The Return of Holy Russia: Apocalyptic History, Mystical Awakening, and the Struggle for the Soul of the World

by Gary Lachman

A history of how mystical and spiritual influences have shaped Russia’s identity and politics and what it means for the future of world civilization

Examines Russia’s spiritual history, from its pagan origins and Eastern Orthodox mysticism to secret societies, Rasputin, Roerich, Blavatsky, and Dostoyevsky Explains the visionary writings of the spiritual philosophers of Russia’s Silver Age, which greatly influence Putin today Explores what Russia’s unique identity and its history of messianic politics and apocalyptic thought mean for its future on the world stage At the turn of the 20th century, a period known as the Silver Age, Russia was undergoing a powerful spiritual and cultural rebirth. It was a time of magic and mysticism that saw a vital resurgence of interest in the occult and a creative intensity not seen in the West since the Renaissance. This was the time of the God-Seekers, pilgrims of the soul and explorers of the spirit who sought the salvation of the world through art and ideas. These sages and their visions of Holy Russia are returning to prominence now through Russian president Vladimir Putin, who, inspired by their ideas, envisions a new “Eurasian” civilization with Russia as its leader.

Exploring Russia’s long history of mysticism and apocalyptic thought, Gary Lachman examines Russia’s unique position between East and West and its potential role in the future of the world. Lachman discusses Russia’s original Slavic paganism and its eager adoption of mystical and apocalyptic Eastern Orthodox Christianity. He explores the Silver Age and its “occult revival” with a look at Rasputin’s prophecies, Blavatsky’s Theosophy, Roerich’s “Red Shambhala,” and the philosophies of Berdyaev and Solovyov. He looks at Russian Rosicrucianism, the Illuminati Scare, Russian Freemasonry, and the rise of other secret societies in Russia. He explores the Russian character as that of the “holy fool,” as seen in the great Russian literature of the 19th century, especially Dostoyevsky. He also examines the psychic research performed by the Russian government throughout the 20th century and the influence of Evola and the esoteric right on the spiritual and political milieus in Russia.

Through in-depth exploration of the philosophies that inspire Putin’s political regime and a look at Russia’s unique cultural identity, Lachman ponders what they will mean for the future of Russia and the world. What drives the Russian soul to pursue the apocalypse? Will these philosophers lead Russia to dominate the world, or will they lead it into a new cultural epoch centered on spiritual power and mystical wisdom?

Genres: Russia, History, Politics, Occult, Nonfiction, Audiobook, Conspiracy Theories

448 pages, Hardcover

First published May 5, 2020

About the author

Gary Lachman is an American writer and musician. Lachman is best known to readers of mysticism and the occult from the numerous articles and books he has published.

Reviews

[Steve Greenleaf · Rating 5 out of 5]

When I think about Russia, two thoughts immediately pop into my mind. The first is Winston Churchill's observation (made in 1939) that Russia is "a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma." The second thought is a visual image of Russian nesting dolls shown in the 1979 BBC production of John LeCare's Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy starring Alex Guinness. As the opening credits roll, one doll after another is removed until the final, innermost doll is revealed--and this doll has no face. Of course, in the context of the story, this final, faceless doll no doubt references the mole inside the Circus. But for me, it also represents the seeming inscrutability of the Russian mind and its culture. One needn't be an expert on Russian history and culture (and I'm not), to hold this sense of perplexity, at least those of us living to the "West" of Russia.
But if you, like me, don't wish to remain in confused ignorance about this rich culture and the nation-state that it supports, then Gary Lachman's The Return of Holy Russia: Apocalyptic History, Mystical Awakening, and the Struggle for the Soul of the World (2020) can provide you a comprehensive and accessible tour of Russian history and culture that shines a light into the events, ideas, and attitudes that mark this complicated (and often perplexing<) behemoth of a culture and nation. In this book, Lachman looks backward in time to unpack the Russian nesting dolls of Russian culture that he broached in his Dark Star Rising: Magick and Power in the Age of Trump (2018). In that book, Lachman explored the many tributaries outside of mainstream cultures that altered (and continues to alter) political reality in the U.S., Europe, and Russia in this current time of troubles. In Dark Star Rising, Lachman ranges from Trump's New Thought heritage (via Norman Vincent Peale) to an extended consideration of the culture of Putin's contemporary Russia, a witch's brew of resuscitated czarist aspirations for empire and Slavic glory, Stalinism, Orthodoxy, and "Eurasianism," all overseen by a criminal syndicate posing as a national government. I suspect that as Lachman looked at the tangled mass of threads that run through the Putin regime, he must have wondered (or at least I did), where did all these threads come from? What among the many justifications (and lies) that this particular regime promotes to retain its control could resonate with enough ordinary Russians to maintain the legitimacy of the regime at a level sufficient to allow it to remain in power? The Return of Holy Russia is an attempt to identify those threads from near their beginning and then follow them through to the present. In undertaking this project, Lachman, in his typically thorough, well-paced, and accessible prose, has completed a comprehensive history of Russian thought and culture centered on its religious, philosophical, and high-cultural aspirations. So does this book answer the riddle, solve the mystery, and de-code the enigma? No, but it helps. In this book, Lachman serves as a tour guide in a massive museum of Russian history and culture, providing a grand tour that touches upon the significant exhibits without lingering on any one exhibit too long. By doing so, many readers will emerge from their reading experience wanting to further explore those exhibits that they found most intriguing. I recently read an interview of Lachman where he observed that reading the works of Colin Wilson was like receiving a liberal arts education. The same can be said for reading Lachman.
In the Introduction and first two chapters, Lachman provides an overview of his subject and a sense of his undertaking, which is an exploration of the Russian "soul" or "character" through time, the result of accretions laid down over hundreds of years of history that lead us the ever-elusive present. Lachman, in these initial pages, identifies some of those who've looked deeply into Russian culture in attempts to arrive at an understanding of the Russian mind. (Lachman notes up-front that he doesn't read or speak the Russian language.) This undertaking by Lachman and his sources is by nature the equivalent of an impressionist painting as opposed to, for instance, an engineering blueprint. In an impressionist work, the colors are bright but often blended one into another and the lines often blurred. We see the big picture but we remain relaxed toward the details, foregoing (or postponing) concerns with details of structure and causal relationships. In this extended metaphor, the Russian "mind," "soul," or "character" is the impressionist vision as a whole, taken-in while knowing that such entities consist of many individual minds that, like flowers, share many common, identifiable attributes, but that reveal individual markers upon close inspection. Lachman addresses the challenge in a footnote (p. 24):
"I apologize to readers who may find these comments about “the Russian character” or“soul” offensive and outdated, given our current concern with avoiding racial or national stereotypes. I personally do not find this danger so serious, and my outline of the characteristics of “Russian man”—and “Russian woman” too—are based on wide reading and multiple sources."
Anyone writing a history of ideas (or more broadly, of culture) must deal with negotiating between the Scylla of over-(or unjustified) generalizations and the Charybdis of extreme skepticism about identifying shared traits among groups, be those groups as large and diverse as a nation or as small as a family. Of course, any observer must be careful to avoid convenient and popular stereotypes and lazy generalizations. And groups have outliers, those who don't fit the prevailing pattern of group norms and characteristics and who march to the beat of different drummers. In short, we have to use sound judgment and discernment before arriving at any conclusions. I find that Lachman negotiates these narrows artfully, not only in addressing generalizations or the ubiquity of cultural traits but in addressing all of the ideas that he identifies over the course of Russian history, Lachman maintains a light touch, not allowing his judgments to intrude into his subject matter. Indeed, one of the features that I enjoy when reading Lachman is to watch for those fleeting moments when he tips his hand--often ever so slightly--to reveal judgments he holds about his subject matter. In his introduction and conclusions, in this book and others, Lachman allows himself to emerge from behind the author's screen to share some more explicit judgments with readers, although I've never found that he proselytizes. Indeed, Lachman does a fine job of following the adage of the great British philosopher R. G. Collingwood that the historian should "re-enact" the thought of his historical subjects. Only when one has, in a sense, gotten inside the head of one's historical subject can the historian place himself in a position to reach conclusions and pass judgments.
Early in the book, Lachman ties three key figures from the Silver Age of Russian thought and culture to the present regime of Vladimir Putin. Putin recommended that his regional governors read specific works from three Silver Age thinkers: Vladimir Solovyev (d. 1900), an Orthodox mystic and labeled "Russia's greatest philosopher" by the American scholar of Russian thought, James P. Scanlan; Nicholas Berdyaev (d. 1948), the Orthodox philosopher and theologian exiled by Lenin who became one of the foremost "Christian existentialists" and whose ideas about freedom and creativity remain important; and Ivan Ilyin (d. 1950), a philosopher also exiled by Lenin who became a proponent of fascism, although he and the Mussolini and Nazi regimes parted with differences. He ended his days living in Switzerland. Of the three, Ilych is the least surprising person among the three on Putin's reading list, while Solovyev and Berdyev are perplexing. (Lachman wisely avoids offering an opinion about whether Putin himself has read any of these thinkers; it would be a safe "no" vote if Trump recommended reading certain books, but Putin? Who knows? So mysterious he is.) All three of these figures were products of Russia's "Silver Age" of 1890 until 1920, when Lenin and the Bolsheviks ended any meaningful philosophy or theology in Russia, although Berdyev and Ilyin made their most significant contributions after they were exiled. In fact, the Silver Age may be seen as the fulcrum of Russian thought and spirituality, and Lachman's book an account of the advance of Russian thought to this point and then its abrupt disbursal after 1920, with several Silver Age thinkers being recycled of late, which may--or may not--presage a genuine renewal and invigoration of Russian thought and spirituality. I'd wager that it is the Silver Age and some of its thinkers that most intrigue Lachman, as they attempt to forge a way that transcends the opposition between Western science, rationality, and material well-being and the collective energy, passion, and spirituality of the Russian heritage. These thinkers were looking for a "third-way" that took Russia beyond political and economic servitude without buying the ethos of Western modernity in full. (If I were to hedge my bet, I'd put some money on Lachman saying "Just Dostoyevsky" as the most telling point in his survey.)
The book takes the reader back to the early days of Russia and patiently recounts the development of Russian culture as influenced by Byzantium, Orthodox Christianity, pagan traditions, and the continuing influx of horsemen from Central Asia with the Mongols (Tartars) as the final and perhaps most formative set of invaders from the east. Lachman also touches upon the struggle for control among the elites to claim dominion over the territories that eventually grew into Russia. This chronicle of elite struggles can become a bit repetitive, as chronicles are want to do, unless you're into the type of raw data that gives rise to Robert Graves's Claudius books, the History Plays of Shakespeare, or George R.R. Martin's Game of Thrones, to give you a sense of the futility and carnage that these repetitive struggles for power entail. But while the early stages of the chronology of rulers and would-be rulers are noted, Lachman's main focus remains on the various influences of thought and practice that formed the Russian Orthodox tradition. While religious disputes remain on the whole less brutal than struggles for political control (to the extent the two arenas remain separate), the trends in Russian Orthodoxy are dynamic and contribute mightily--for good and ill--to the formation of modern Russia. The political history, too, eventually gets to the point where Peter the Great (the late 1600s) and Catherine the Great (the mid-late 1700s) come on the scene. Lachman addresses the efforts of these rulers to change Russian culture based on the innovations of Western Europe, especially in the fields of science and technology. By the 1600s, the West had begun the Scientific Revolution that was also a revolution in the ability of societies and nations to gain control over nature through technology. And while Galileo, Bacon, Hooker, and Newton were the most significant names in science, Russians were also exposed to Western thought flowing from the Rennaisance and occult traditions (e.g., Freemasonry) and liberal political thought (e.g., Locke, Voltaire). It's at this point where ideas associated with Western modernity begin to clash with Russia's Orthodox Christian, Asian, and traditionalist heritages. Earlier in the book Lachman addresses the differences between Orthodox and Western (Catholic) Christianity, which seem subtle to the point of trivial at first glance--just try grasping the significance of the filioque clause on a first pass--but the sometimes perplexing differences that often seem over-emphasized by elite churchmen and theologians prompt quite different attitudes and practices in the religious life of the faithful (and sort-of faithful).
When Lachman's narrative arrives at the nineteenth-century, he moves into an era in which many of the names become familiar, especially in literature: Pushkin, Gogol, Tolstoy, Turgenev, and, most importantly, Dostoyevsky. In addition to the rich insights into Russian thought and life provided by these authors and their literary works, Russian thought blossomed in many other fields as well. And despite the efforts at the Congress of Vienna and the failures of the revolutionary movements of 1848 throughout Europe, pressure for political change and the political writing promoting change grew in importance. One might think given the eventual success of the Bolsheviks that Marxist thought dominated the political conversation, but this seems not to have been the case. Many members of the intelligentsia went through a youthful infatuation with Marxism before moving on. (Alas, Lenin and his ilk didn't move on.) This is also the era of Slavic and Russian nationalism, with writers of the magnitude of Dostoyevsky and Tolstoy, among many others, who promoted ideas about the importance of Christianity and Pan-Slavism.
As I suggested earlier in this review, the Silver Age from 1890 to 1920 can be seen as a high point in Russian culture and thought. Vladimir Solovyev, as a philosopher and theologian, comes across as the most important thinker of that era. During this period, which involved significant social and political unrest, members of the intelligentsia were seeking ways to organize a new Russia, with or without the czar. Thinkers like Solovyev, Bulgakov, Berdyaev, and others wanted to bridge the gap between Russia's unique and deeply felt Orthodox Christian culture and the rationality of the West, to find, as it were, a "third way" (a term it seems as popular the end of the twentieth century as it was at the beginning). But, as Lachman recounts, the few thinkers and searchers lucky enough to have survived the initial stages of the Bolshevik seizure of control were shipped abroad by Lenin, including Berdyaev and Ilyin.
Lachman ties his account into the present, bringing it up to where he first recounted it Dark Star Rising. We learn of Putin's reading list of Silver Age thinkers and of his use of technology, propaganda, and political machinations (apologies to the misunderstood Machiavelli) to maintain his regime. Lachman describes what seems to be the attitude of Putin and many of those who buy into his narrative: what is the liberal West's dream is Russia's nightmare; indeed, there is a strain of the Russian character that sees history only as a nightmare. The horrors of the twentieth century in Russia certainly contribute to this dour outlook.
[The rest of my review (in full) can be found at https://sngthoughts.blogspot.com/2020....]

[Otto Lehto · Rating 3 out of 5]

Lachman's book is a rather well researched and well written but also somewhat historically suspect book that does not know whether it wants to be a serious book about general history or a highly stylized historical narrative about Russian arcana where fact and fiction mix. As historical entertainment and light reading, I highly enjoyed the book. It contains so many strange characters (mystics, philosophers, and warlords) and wild histories (both true and apocryphal) as to be worth reading. It introduced me to many thinkers, poets, mystics, and philosophers who I want to read more from and more about. The book also contains a lot of secular history about the origins and development of the Russian nation; much more than the title of the book suggests. Many occult-hungry readers looking for a work of arcane history have been disappointment but I found the secular history very informative (as someone who knows little about Russian history).

However, I think the book makes two errors: 1) It refuses to "fact check" or even critically analyse most of the wild claims of its central characters. It takes the spiritual credentials of people like Madame Blavatsky and Rasputin at face value. The author constantly hides behind the excuse of "I am only reporting what they say" which is rather sloppy for a book with pretensions to being serious scholarship. In this sense, the book fails as a history book. 2) Metaphysically and spiritually, the book reflects the author's spiritual views, some of which are pretty weird. It openly expounds the Gurdjieff/Blavatsky spiritual tradition which emphasizes the need for a "Third Way" between the individualistic, materialistic West and the holistic, spiritual East. This viewpoint is also reflected in many of the writings of the broader Russian literati of the past few centuries, so it at least gives the book some coherence. Although this viewpoint is not without some merit and relevance in the context of Russia, the author's uncritical indulgence towards this viewpoint lends credence to the outrageous claims of Blavatsky and the Russian mystics, and even to the morally bankrupt cultural relativism most recently expounded by Alexander Dugin. In this sense, the book obscures the pursuit of truth in favour of an intuitive knowing. This tends to justify or at least excuse the mystical mumbo jumbo of the cultural reactionaries and to (unintentionally) give political and moral authority to the self-serving narrative spun by the Russian state and its neo-reactionary supporters of an "alternative modernity" that supposedly overcomes the individualism of the West in favour of a more holistic spiritual solution (headed by the Czar/Church, of course). To be sure, the author claims that the Russians go too far in the other direction of collectivism, and he seems to prefer those authors whom were critical of, or antagonistic to, the mainstream Russian establishments of the Church and the State, so I do not want to falsely paint him as on board with the moral reactionaries of Putin's Russia today. Nonetheless, in the final section, Lachman embraces a mystical longing for a dreamlike fusion between individualism and holism that I think lends itself open to abuse in the current climate. The book is an illuminating and fun read if you ignore the excessive reverence that the author shows towards some weird ideas. I think he simply goes too far in that dimension. But I agree that mysticism is a perfectly legitimate social pursuit that more people need to study. More books on the mystical traditions of the world can help us carve a new, creative path ahead, by giving all the spiritual traditions of the world their due. One of the last obstacles faced by spiritual growth is the obtuse nationalism of mystical reactionaries.

[Tom · Rating 2 out of 5]

I began this book excited. I left disappointed, even infuriated at times. Ultimately, Lachman’s thesis, whilst a sound idea, was explained and addressed poorly. For a book that pertains to examine the mystical aspects of Russian thought and its relation to the modern predicament of that country, it rarely did what I was expecting. Indeed, the positive aspects of the book are almost entirely those sections that actually do what I had expected. The flaws with Lachman’s book, however, are all too obvious, and must be addressed first.

For me, this book suffered from two major issues. The first is Lachman’s insistence to retell the entirety of Russian history. He is seldom doing so whilst examining esoteric traditions of various ages. Most of the first two thirds of this book are simply a Russian history textbook. Not only is this not what I had signed up for, but the history itself is lacking. Many better books on Russian history have been written. Following on from that, the second major issue is the way in which Russian history told. Lachman is often condescending, presumptuous, or ridiculous. He goes out of his way to remind the reader that theological debates that influenced Russian history are of course exercises in “hair splitting” that, in his view, have no relevance to everyday life. He sneeringly refers to the veneration of icons in the Russian Orthodox tradition. Likewise, his progressive vision of history sees his erroneously describe Alexander III’s reign as one of stagnation, ignoring the immense industrialisation at the time. Indeed, any Tsar who exerts their authority on Russia is either a tyrant if conservative, or enlightened if a ‘Westerniser’ a la Peter the Great. Alas, such a view suggests a total failure to grasp the essence of Russian history that ought to be integral to this thesis.

For all of his talk of the contradictions of Russian thought, Lachman seems to be entirely dismissive of those aspects he doesn’t like. Lachman doesn’t even need to embrace the Russian view of their history and their nation; he merely needs to accept their claims as being a genuine influence on their present culture and geopolitics. Even here, Lachman fails. Ultimately, this sneering attitude entirely undermines any credibility Lachman has when attempting to address a subject as vast as Russian nationhood. Worse still, Lachman indulges himself by needlessly psychologising various figures from Russian history. This is both inaccurate and extremely annoying. I’d be surprised any reader can take these sections seriously. The entire notion of a “Right Man” (aka a man who is neurotically invested in always being correct and has the authority to make everyone act as if this is so) is fantastical, and Lachman’s incessant use of this phrase on Russian figures such as Ivan Grozny just smacks of incompetence and an inadequate understanding of the very history he is somehow a published author on.

This book is undoubtedly at its best when Lachman leaves the posturing over historical figures and events behind and actually writes about esoteric traditions in Russian thought. In other words, when Lachman provides the book I expected him to have written, rather than the bad Russian history book he has written, the book is all of a sudden much better. When Lachman tells tales of the esoteric thinkers with influence of Nicholas II’s court, or those figures and groups that survived the era of Stalin, the detail is very good. However, it took nearly 300 pages to reach this quality, and given the previous dubious historiography, I’m not sure how much to trust. Indeed, the 1960s and 1970s, as per usual in Russian history texts, are almost entirely ignored by Lachman despite the general interest of intelligence agencies in psychic phenomena in humans.

In the end, there is little positive to say about this book. The reason for its failure is because Lachman not only doesn’t know Russia, but he does not seem to want to. He merely wishes to tell his ideologically blinded version of Russian history to suit his thesis, and only then wishes to examine the essence of the thesis itself. There is undoubtedly some truth to Lachman’s thesis that Russia’s esoteric traditions influence its sense of nationhood, and there is some real insight in this book, but this insight could be gained by bypassing this book entirely and actually seeking a genuine understanding of the Orthodox Church, Russian mysticism, and by treating the ideas of the likes of Alexander Dugin as authentic representations of Russian culture. Russia is in an interesting, if concerning predicament today, but blinding oneself to the roots of its culture will lead to a garbled understanding of why it is and how it will handle its present situation. If only Lachman had tried to understand, or even represent Russian thought and tradition, then his book would be more valuable than it is.

[Ken Kuhlken · Rating 5 out of 5]

As an avid reader of Dostoyevski, I have long been fascinated by Russia and Russian literature especially in the 19th century and especially the intellectual controversies about extreme beliefs concerning the dominions of science and religion. Also, as a fan of 19th century romantics like Mary Shelly, John Keats, and the Bronte sisters, and also of predictions of the apocalypse, the title alone convince me to read this book.

I was delighted and inspired by what I found. My only complaint is that such a broad subject left me feeling at times as if I were skimming over issues and people I would have loved to stay with longer. Still, I gave it five stars because I wish everybody would read it, as the subject matter and Mr. Lachman's take on it is enlightening, especially in light of the current condition of our "civilization". Also, it offered me glimpses into several authors I now intend to pursue.

[Ilya Miller · Rating 3 out of 5]

A bit of a mixed bag this one (as Russia itself most definitely is). Rather boring crash course in Russian history for those who skipped school mixed with big figures in Russian occult thought (Blavatsky, Rasputin, Rerich) and some lesser knowns (never heard of Vladimir Megre and Anastasianism before) thrown in. Ilyin, Dugin, Surkov et al feature as well for the sake of relevance. A fair job all in all for someone who used to play in Blondie, nevertheless. A book to recommend to your fellow expat who doesn’t get the ongoing war with Ukraine (or Russia itself, I might add).

[Drew · Rating 4 out of 5]

Another interesting work by Lachman on how occult ideas have influenced mainstream society. This particular volume is focused on tracing how historical religious and spiritual ideas have shaped the modern-day Russian approach to how they view their political geopolitical place and destiny in the world. If you are a fan of Gary Lachman's work you know exactly what you are in for. This book will be of great interest for those who found the ending chapters of Darkstar Rising intriguing and were thirsty for more information.

[M. · Rating 3 out of 5]

I'd call this a 3.5. I read this after reading Lachman's Dark Star Rising, which was great. I love Lachman's books but this one read more like a text from a History class, which isn't bad, it just didn't contain as many as intriguing idiosyncrasies and unusual perspectives as his other books.

[Kyle · Rating 4 out of 5]

A Religious and Spiritual History of Russia

A good overview of the religious and spiritual elements that developed in Russia throughout the course of its history. Anyone who is interested in learning more about the esoteric or the occult and its impact on the historical stage should pick this up. Lachman is good at narrative and presenting the ideas as they are without overselling them for dramatic effect. You might want to start with his book Dark Star Rising, as it provides some context for the philosophical ideas in this book. Overall, Holy Russia is a good read and worth your time if you are interested in how religious, esoteric, and philosophical ideas shape the social and cultural history of a nation and how it can have an impact on the world at large.

[Denny Hunt · Rating 5 out of 5]

Grand tour of Russia's philosophical history along with key and intelligent accounts of religious and political personalities and events. Lachman excellent research shows. The take home for me, was that reading Berdyaev is/was a good idea. Also learned about some others who made huge contributions to Russian identities and how they influenced Russia's culture. This is not another book telling us what the Judeo-Christian/secular and practically Godless West thinks about Russia and her people, but a book that joins them in a discovery that is meaningful to the human family. Of course, now I need to read me some more Lachman!

[Inconscientious · Rating 5 out of 5]

Considering the almost exclusive negative portrayal of all things Russia these days, Lachman presents a refreshing alternative. This is a history that is grounded in an unbiased, albeit symbolic framework of thinking. This book is an extremely important work for the Western world and its struggle to understand Russia. Take home message, Russia has never been engulfed by the Western Liberal mindset and neither shall it ever be and yet, this does not mean that it is opposed to all things West.

[Nancy McQueen · Rating 4 out of 5]

Helped to give me a slight crack of insight into Russian thought. I'm sure that I haven't even scratched the surface

[Gordon · Rating 4 out of 5]

an excellent exposition on mystical/philosophical history of Russia, really wonderfully thick with interesting characters.

[Sean Murray · Rating 1 out of 5]

An unfortunate departure. Not a standard Lachman. A history of Russia, and not an esoteric one. The ratio of Russian history to esoteric commentary is around 10 to 1, and the esoteric commentary is rather anemic in it’s insight. I don’t know who Gary was trying to impress here. Perhaps another homage to Wilson, of whom Lachman is an orphaned apostle? Who knows.