In philosophy, there is a concept called the hermeneutic circle. This idea originated with Schleiermacher, evolved through Dilthey, and was further developed by Heidegger and Gadamer. The basic principle is that understanding requires knowledge of both the whole and its parts. However, when we first approach something, we do not fully grasp either the whole or its parts. Moreover, understanding a part without knowing the whole is impossible, and the whole cannot exist without its parts (otherwise, what makes it a whole, and what is it whole in relation to?). This seemingly paradoxical situation is resolved through a process of approximation.
Imagine we start with an approximate idea of both the part and the whole — like two Rorschach blots. We begin carefully and without jumping to conclusions to relate them to each other. We continuously align one approximation with another, over and over, until they start influencing each other, gradually sharpening the blurred outlines of both. This process is the hermeneutic circle, a repetitive, circular movement around a central idea, aimed at understanding both the structure of the periphery and the center. In other words, both the whole and the part are understood through their ongoing circular relationship, moving from vagueness to clarity.
Heidegger frequently used this method, repeatedly asking the same question and circling around an elusive center and a blurred periphery.
However, one must be cautious when trying to formalize this method. It is easy to lose sight of the subtle philosophical task of distinguishing what constitutes the whole and what the part. Hermeneutics is grounded in Aristotle and is deeply connected to phenomenology (as Dilthey realized after engaging with Husserl’s ideas). If we interpret the whole and the part outside of Aristotelian ontology (for example, through atomism or materialism), the entire approach collapses. Thus, practicing hermeneutics requires a particular philosophical culture.
Now, let us apply the principle of the hermeneutic circle to victory. The Victory in the war with the West in Ukraine serves both as a goal and a means. The exceptional significance of this Victory in Russian history compels us to view the current Russian statehood as an instrument, a method. In this sense, modern Russia is a part of Victory, a condition for it. Victory represents the beginning of the future, while the past and present are merely precursors to it. Returning to Aristotle, the primary cause is the final cause, causa finalis. Victory in Ukraine is the entelechy of Russian political history — it is the purpose for which everything else has existed. From Vladimir the Bright Sun to Victory, from Kiev to Kiev.
Victory is greater than the Russian Federation as a whole because Victory represents the essence of Russia in its fullness. The Russian Federation is just a part of Victory; Victory is the whole. It is destiny, the final triumph.
To achieve Victory, Russia must be adjusted to fit it. This is what is happening now. It is being done both correctly and incorrectly. It is correct when we see Victory as the goal and the whole, and the Russian Federation as the means and the part, as a specific moment in our political history. It is incorrect when we treat the Russian Federation as the whole and absolutize the status quo, excluding the true whole of Russian history. When a single moment of political history is exaggerated to overshadow the entire existence of Russia (the whole), we stray from the right path. As we shift from the incorrect to the correct approach, Victory draws nearer. We bring it closer. This is the hermeneutics of war.
Doing things correctly means restructuring the state to serve Victory. When Victory ceases to be just a part and becomes the whole, the state will, in turn, cease to be everything and an end in itself, becoming instead the means and the path to Victory. At that point, something new will be established — the State of Victory. And then we will triumph.
Afterward, a new hermeneutic turn will occur. Victory will become the foundation of a new Russian statehood. Only a new Russia can achieve Victory, and it is precisely this new Russia that will emerge after Victory. Victory itself will then become part of the future, a moment of the whole. The new statehood will be an even more cohesive phenomenon, a new core, and an absolute center.
In other words, Victory is a bridge between the past (including the rapidly fading present) and the future. The more Victory is realized, the more Russian time itself will become.
The Russian Federation is not fully Russia. It is a part of Russia — both in time and space. Victory in Ukraine must transform this part into the whole, making Russia truly Russia in the fullest sense. This transformation goes far beyond territory, population, strategy, or geopolitics. It involves the hermeneutic circle of all Russian history. This is the solution to the metaphysical problem of Russian destiny.
(This article was translated from the Russian.)
