The New, New Year

September 1, 1700 was a day when a very important event did not take place.

For centuries, the first of September had been a day of celebrating the New Year in Russia. It seems counterintuitive now, but it was quite logical, actually. August was when the most important agricultural activities of the year were completed. And if some unfortunate event or bad weather conditions stopped people from collecting crops, it meant almost certain death from starvation. So peasants worked very hard to bring in the crop.

Of course, peasants did not work on St. Elias day – August 2 (or July 20, old style). This day for religious ceremonies had pagan roots, in the annual celebrations of the god Perun, who was said to drive his chariot across the skies making thunderous noises, a common enough occurrence in the tempestuous days of early August.

On St. Elias day, peasants brought gifts to church – not too unlike pagan offerings of atonement, perhaps – beseeching the saint to keep their fields from being ruined by rain or storms. They brought fruit, flowers and vegetables. Quite often they also sacrificed an ox, an animal long associated in many cultures with the gods of storm and tempests.

But as soon as this celebration was over, everyone hurried back to work. It was important to prepare food for the long winter ahead, to collect crops, to bring in the hay. There was no time to spare. Of course, if you were rich, you hired someone to help out for the month; if you were not, you asked for help from family.

By the end of August, the heavy work was done. You could finally relax. Logically, it really was more like the end of the year than December – at least for peasants. You thanked the people who helped you and often left a small part of the field unharvested – another pagan rite: an offering to the god Veles, to beseech him for good crops in the coming year.

Early September was a rare time in Russian villages: peasants could afford to eat meat. This was due to economics (meat did not last as long then) and superstition (feasting somehow magically ensured that there would be enough food for the winter). So cows and pigs were slaughtered and huge celebrations ensued. Even though medieval Russia did not yet know vodka, people also drank a lot of medovukha, made from honey. These feasts were a celebration of the New Year. And even though townspeople did not have to work in the fields, they still followed the old traditions, knowing that their prosperity depended on good crops and the amount of cattle which God (or pagan spirits, as the case might be) would send them.

It was like this until the time of Peter the Great. In 1698, Peter, who had always had a keen fascination with things western, led a secret diplomatic mission to Europe – The Great Embassy. In order that he could avoid the complications of court protocol, Peter traveled under the name of Peter Mikhailov. Of course, everyone knew that this tall, strange tsar was masquerading as a junior officer, but officially they could not know or recognize him as tsar. It gave Peter immense freedom.

As soon as Peter returned to Russia he began “westernizing” everyday life. And the young tsar did not brook any resistance. Boyars who came to welcome him home were subjected to a painful and humiliating procedure: Peter cut off their beards. At that time in Russia, a man without a beard considered himself to be naked, emasculated, even homosexual (a mortal sin). Western dress, which many thought to be unusual and indecent, became mandatory. Parties were organized, where people were required to bring their wives and daughters (springing them from the confines of the terem) and allow them to dance with other males – shock upon shock. Guests even smoked – something previously associated with the Devil. It is therefore not surprising that many Russians began to whisper that the tsar was the Antichrist.

On September 1, 1699, everyone as usual celebrated the New Year. But then, just three months later, they were ordered to celebrate  the New Year again, on January 1, as was the tradition in the West.

As a sign of good beginnings and good cheer, congratulate one another on the New Year, wishing good fortune in business and prosperity for the family. In honor of the New Year, commit to decorating a tree in order to amuse the children, and ride down hills on sleds. Adults shall not engage in drunkenness and brawling – there are plenty of other days for this. Whosoever does not celebrate on the New Year, shall be subject to the rod.

It is somewhat ironic to think that Russians would need to be threatened with the rod to get them to celebrate. But clearly not everyone was accepting of change.

As it turned out, on September 1, 1700, what would have been the New Year was instead the occasion for a new war – against Sweden, in order that Peter, pursuing his naval passions, could obtain Russian an outlet to the sea. Peter changed the calendar and New Year’s was not celebrated on September 1. Henceforth, the year would begin with the traditional celebration of Christ’s birth (which actually had long ago been crafted to coincide with and overshadow the pagan holiday of the Winter Equinox) and not the Creation of the World.

People were confused, and, since it was rather dangerous to contradict the tsar, they cancelled their celebrations. At least in cities. In villages, the tradition of celebrating the New Year in September held on for some time. The break was painful at first – especially as it was but one of many Petrine changes. But, by the 19th century, January first and Christmas trees (yolkas – something else Peter had much admired abroad) were popular throughout Russia. Peter had won, except on one detail: people drink a lot on New Year’s. In fact, there used to be a saying – “to go under a yolka” – meaning to visit a tavern.