After ignoring the advice of learned professors and insightful readers for five decades, I finally dragged my dusty copy of Tolstoy’s War and Peace off the shelf a month ago and read it.
While zigzagging all over the globe to get to
Less than 20 minutes from home on my late-night return flight, I turned the last page with an immense sense of accomplishment.
I sat there in the dark airplane, savoring that once-in-a-lifetime experience and trying to decide what part of Leo Tolstoy’s complex classic had touched me most.
Most of all, I think, I was impressed by the novelist’s slowly emerging portrait of General Kutuzof, with its cogent reminder of how much can be accomplished when we don’t care who gets the credit for it.
Glory-hungry noblemen who led the first Russian divisions
that invaded
Countless lives were lost when the ego-infested officers made decisions designed to enhance their own reputations without considering the military outcome.
In clear contrast stood Kutuzof. Many wondered why the emperor tapped this lethargic, obese, aging soldier to be his commander in the seemingly hopeless war with Napoleon. It turned out to be a brilliant choice, for long ago General Kutuzof had outgrown the need to perform in the spotlight. He was almost devoid of ego.
Patiently he bore the insults of fellow-generals and the
rising disapproval of the young emperor. Ignoring opportunities to dazzle his
critics with spectacular assaults on the French army, the old general let
Napoleon’s troops advance almost unopposed until the unfed, frozen French army
collapsed in
War ended and peace came to Russia in that era, Tolstoy tells us, because one elderly soldier felt no greed for glamour or glory. What would happen if the leaders of the Lord’s army were like Kutuzof, if we quit worrying about who gets the credit and upheld Christ’s core truth that greatness comes to those who seek it least of all.