Based on no more than half an hour's perusal of some textbooks in the philosophy section of a bookshop in Moscow, I have the following observations. Since the collapse of the USSR, the curriculum has had to be rewritten. I looked at the contents of a couple of books in detail, and here is what I can remember.

Marxism-Leninism, which one presumes would have been the dominant event in the history of philosophy from the Soviet point of view, had been relegated to around a dozen pages out of several hundred. Otherwise, the canonical story, as one would expect to find it from the pre-Socratics to, at any rate Hegel, was identical in outline to what would be given in any respectable Western version of the story. There was perhaps more willingness to include Indian and Chinese thought from what one might call the classical eras of both cultures at the beginning, but otherwise, until at least the nineteenth century, there was nothing surprising.

The notable divergences began in the later part of the nineteenth century, when one might call the analytic part of the story, beginning with figures such as Meinong, Brentano, and Frege, continuing with Russell and Whitehead, and including the emergence of such groups as the Vienna Circle and the eminent Polish logicians of the twentieth century, either disappeared or seemed to be treated very cursorily in comparison to what the Anglophone world calls 'continental' philosophy; that Franco-German style that grew up in the shadow of Hegel and Marx. Thus, plenty of Heidegger and Derrida, but very little Ayer or Quine. One could be forgiven for thinking philosophy came to an end at Calais after 1900, though to be fair many authors in the Anglophone world have often seemed to assert that it only began west of Dover.

But the truly striking thing was the way in which 'Russian philosophy' suddenly emerged as something in its own right in the accounts given of the later nineteenth and twentieth centuries. Perhaps this is not too surprising; Russia was after all a very closed society for the greater part of the twentieth century, and was forced to develop in isolation to a great extent. But when one looks at those included in the canon, although some of them have been translated and acquired a certain reputation in the west (such as Berdyaev, for example), most are almost unknown (the members of the so-called Eurasian movement, for example, have hardly begun to be studied here). Moreover, someone like Berdyaev would only be counted as a philosopher by most inhabitants of Anglophone philosophy departments (save perhaps by those recusant Franco-German sympathisers) in an extended literary sense of the term. They have certainly yet to be integrated in any way into the history of philosophy as it is told here.

Interestingly, since I wrote the original post it has come to my notice that Copleston's History of Philosophy has a separate volume on Russian philosophy, which rather underlines my original point.