Roger Establet
Conversations Among Friends
I first met Barlas Tolan at Marmara University, in the wonderful Institute of Political Studies located on the shores of the Bosphorus, where he held important positions, and later at Galatasaray, an equally admirable place.
In both cases, our professional relationship was followed by long, informal conversations over tea. I had noticed the essential role that Barlas Tolan had played in introducing and disseminating the works of French sociology in Turkey. With the genuine talent of a storyteller, he would recount the encounters he had had with the great figures of our discipline—people whom I had known only through books in libraries or, at best, from the back rows of a Paris lecture hall. Yet I had the privilege of sharing with him a few anecdotes about a person he knew better than I did: Georges Gurvitch.
The first dates back to my student years—1959, so long ago now! Georges Gurvitch was a terrifying professor. He spoke with a strong Russian accent and a powerful voice, and he was extremely demanding about the length of the presentations he assigned to his students. We had to register at the beginning of the academic year. The day before my presentation in Gurvitch’s class, two of my classmates persuaded me to drive them to Brest in my second-hand 4CV, which meant that I would be absent on the fateful day of my presentation. When I returned from Brest, I found an envelope in my ENS mailbox. I immediately recognized the large, powerful handwriting—the handwriting of Professor Georges Gurvitch. I trembled. I told myself that my exam paper had been thrown into the Seine. But no!
The formidable Professor Georges Gurvitch apologized to me for his absence, which was due to illness, and suggested another date. Barlas Tolan, who knew Georges Gurvitch better than I did, had no difficulty imagining my relief. Chance had truly worked in my favor!
But chance was to strike again. During my military service in 1963, I received a letter from the director of the ENS asking whether I would accept a position as assistant lecturer at the Sorbonne, under the supervision of Georges Gurvitch! It was an extraordinary opportunity, made possible by the unexpected—but foreseeable—arrival of the large baby-boom generations into higher education.
I regularly went to Georges Gurvitch’s home to receive his instructions. He lived at 38 rue Vaneau, in the apartment that had once been occupied by Marx. The formidable Georges Gurvitch told me about the beginnings of his career. Just before the 1917 Revolution, he had taken an examination at an Orthodox college. In this theology thesis, he argued that the Apocalypse was an anticipatory version of Marxist theories. The members of the examining committee, who were fond of the young Gurvitch, granted him just enough credit to pass, while expressing their complete disagreement with his ideas.
When the Revolution occurred, Georges Gurvitch became a People’s Commissar and a professor at the University of Tomsk. During a meeting, he saw the members of his former examining committee arrive. One of them said to him:
“—Dear Georges Gurvitch, you see, we are now in agreement with the communists!
—Well,” he replied, “now it is I who no longer agree with them!”
Imagine Barlas Tolan’s delight upon hearing this little story, even though he knew better than I did the rest of Gurvitch’s life story, both tragic and glorious.
And I was able to tell him yet another one.
“One day, I arrived at Georges Gurvitch’s home. But I was welcomed by his wife, who was very sad. She told me that her husband was at the doctor’s and that he would be back soon. She spoke to me about her youth with Gurvitch in her beloved Russia, which she longed so much to see again. She also told me that Georges was making arrangements to return there.”
“He had set his conditions: he wanted to address the workers of the factory where he had once been a People’s Commissar in Russian, and he wanted to consult the archives of that factory.”
The Russians refused the first condition but accepted the second. Madame Gurvitch pleaded with them. In October 1965, Georges Gurvitch agreed to give up his request to address the workers of his former factory. But the journey never took place: Gurvitch died during the winter that followed. Madame Gurvitch would lose her mind.
In one of the libraries of Aix-en-Provence, I came across an English-Russian lexicon by Madame Gurvitch, published in the United States between 1940 and 1944. Perhaps Madame Gurvitch was thus one of the key figures of the Second World War. I did not have time to ask Barlas Tolan about this: yet another regret!
Roger Establet
Professor Emeritus of Sociology