Edward Hallet Carr is renowned as the historian of Soviet Russia, biographer of The Romantic Exiles, founder of the ‘realist’ approach to the study of International Relations and author of the classic Trevelyan lecture series, What is History? This sparkling biography reveals how intimately the historian’s grasp of statecraft is related to Carr’s own formative experiences at the center of political events. Seconded from Cambridge to the Foreign Office during World War I to administer the Allied blockade of the new Soviet Republic and attending the post-war Paris peace talks on behalf of the British, Carr witnessed at first hand the unfolding drama of the revolution which was to become the centerpiece of his life’s work. At the Foreign Office, and as Times leader writer during World War II, he was an influential opinion maker whose open-minded attitude to the Soviet Union deprived him of academic posts for the next decade. Jonathan Haslam paints a compelling psychological portrait of a man torn between a vicarious identification with the romance of revolution and the ruthless realism of his own intellectual formation. In his fascinating account of the creation of Carr’s vast 14 volume History of Soviet Russia, Haslam reveals a major historian at his craft.
Jonathan Haslam is George F. Kennan Professor in the School of Historical Studies at the Institute for Advanced Study in Princeton and Professor of the History of International Relations at the University of Cambridge.
This biography of E.H. Carr, the preeminent English-speaking historian of the Russian Revolution, is a good account of his motivations and life. The book is fairly dry, however, which isn't surprising considering that he spent much of his long life researching and writing his many, many, many-volume history.
It is always a strange thing to read about historians of the Soviet Union who died well before its collapse. I was struck by this passage, written about Carr at the twilight of his life:
"The reluctance [of Carr] to deal with current Soviet conditions was essentially from dislike of appearing on the front line faced with an unacceptable dilemma: publicly agree with the bleak assessment of the steadfast retreat from reform in the Soviet Union that was also marked by the rehabilitation of Stalin and thereby serve purposes he had no wish to serve, or publicly deny the truth of what was happening, an option even more unacceptable.
"He was always eager for news of life in the Soviet Union, but certainly in the last decade, did not wish to hear of the stagnation in every sphere of society that was apparent to any open-minded visitor from the late seventies. On one occasion the author recalls in 1977, after listening to a few minutes to an account of the demoralized attitude of Russian youth and rumours of the brutal suppression of strikes, he fell silent: the conversation was over, and the meeting along with it."