"'Evil men have no songs.' How is it that the Russians have songs?"

Friedrich Nietzsche’s aphorism, "'Evil men have no songs.' How is it that the Russians have songs?" uses paradox and irony to provoke questioning of conventional moral judgments and cultural stereotypes. The assertion that “evil men have no songs” implies a profound link between music, particularly song, and moral goodness or the capacity for human feeling. Songs are generally vehicles for expressing longing, love, suffering, hope, and the complexity of the human condition, all of which presuppose emotional depth, empathy, and a vibrant inner life. An “evil man,” presumably devoid of such richness, would lack the impetus or authenticity to create or genuinely engage with song.

Turning to the Russians as a national and cultural group, Nietzsche conjures a then-European stereotype of the Russians as a people associated with darkness, brutality, or enigmatic “otherness.” Yet, Russian music and folk song are famous for their passionate intensity, melancholic beauty, and stirring emotional depth. The question, how can a nation with a reputation for harshness produce such poignant and moving songs?, underscores a tension between simplistic moral labeling and the undeniable cultural output that testifies to a nuanced, soulful humanity.

Nietzsche, often critical of binary moral distinctions, points here to the limitations of such judgments. He is not making a factual claim about Russian character or history; rather, he is mocking the arbitrariness of calling entire peoples “evil” based on political or cultural bias, while also noting how reductive notions about evil fail to account for the creative, expressive capacities manifest in music. The presence of songs and art suggest inner depth, perhaps even suffering and self-reflection, which complicate any verdict of simple “evil.” Thus, the quote underscores the folly of facile moral judgments and reminds us of the complex, intertwined relationships between culture, creativity, morality, and humanity.