The following is a list of the first Presidium of the All-Russian Central Committee of the Soviets:—
- 1 Georgian
- 5 Jews
- 1 Armenian
- 1 Pole
- 1 Russian (if his name was not an assumed one).
This exceptional preponderance of the alien element, foreign to the Russian national idea, could not fail to tinge the entire activities of the Soviet with a spirit harmful to the interests of the Russian State. The Provisional Government was the captive of the Soviet from the very first day, as it had under-estimated the importance and the power of that institution, and was unable to display either determination or strength in resisting the Soviet. The Government did not even hope for victory in that struggle, as, in its endeavour to save the country, it could not very well proclaim watchwords which would have suited the licentious mob and which emanated from the Soviet. The Government talked about duty, the Soviet about rights. The former “prohibited,” the latter “permitted.” The Government was linked with the old power by the inheritance of statesmanship and organisation, as well as the external methods of administration; whereas the Soviet, springing from mutiny and from the slums, was the direct negation of the entire old régime. It is a delusion to think, as a small portion of the moderate democracy still appear to do, that the Soviet played the part of “restraining the tidal wave of the people.” The Soviet did not actually destroy the Russian State, but was shattering it, and did so to the extent of smashing the Army and imposing Bolshevism on it. Hence the duplicity and insincerity of its activities. Apart from its declarations, all the speeches, conversations, comments, and articles of the Soviet and of the Executive Committee, of its groups and individuals, came to the knowledge of the country and of the Front, and tended towards the destruction of the authority of the Government. Stankevitch wrote that not deliberately, but persistently, the Committee was dealing death-blows to the Government.
Who, then, were the men who were trying to democratise the Army Regulations, smashing all the foundations of the Army, inspiring the Polivanov Commission, and tying the hands of two War Ministers? The following is the personnel elected in the beginning of April from the Soldiers’ Section of the Soviet to the Executive Committee:—
| War-time Officers | 1 |
| Clerks | 2 |
| Cadets | 2 |
| Soldiers from the rear | 9 |
| Scribes and men on special duty | 5 |
I will leave their description to Stankevitch, who said: “At first hysterical, noisy, and unbalanced men were elected, who were utterly useless to the Committee....” New elements were subsequently added. “The latter tried consciously, and in the measure of their ability, to cope with the ocean of military matters. Two of them, however, seemed to have been inoffensive scribes in Reserve Battalions, who had never taken the slightest interest in the War, the Army, or the political Revolution.” The duplicity and the insincerity of the Soviet were clearly manifested in regard to the War. The intellectual circles of the Left and of the Revolutionary Democracy mostly espoused the idea of Zimmerwald and of Internationalism. It was natural, therefore, that the first word which the Soviet addressed on March 14, 1917, “To the Peoples of the Whole World,” was:
“PEACE.”
The world problems, infinitely complex, owing to the national, political, and economic interests of the peoples who differed in their understanding of the Eternal Truth, could not be solved in such an elementary fashion. Bethmann-Holweg was contemptuously silent. On March 17th, 1917, the Reichstag, by a majority against the votes of both Social Democratic parties, declined the offer of peace without annexations. Noske voiced the views of the German Democracy in saying: “We are offered from abroad to organise a Revolution. If we follow that advice the working classes will come to grief.” Among the Allies and the Allied Democracies the Soviet manifesto provoked anxiety, bewilderment, and discontent, which were vividly expressed in the speeches made by Albert Thomas, Henderson, Vandervelde, and even the present-day French Bolshevik, Cachin, upon their visits to Russia. The Soviet subsequently added to the word “Peace” the definition, “Without annexations and indemnities on the basis of the self-determination of peoples.” The theory of this formula promptly clashed with the actual question of Western and Southern Russia occupied by the Germans; of Poland, of Roumania, Belgium, and Serbia, devastated by the Germans; of Alsace-Lorraine and Posen, as well as of the servitude, expropriations, and compulsory labour which had been imposed upon all the countries invaded by the Germans. According to the programme of the German Social Democrats, which was at length published in Stockholm, the French in Alsace-Lorraine, the Poles in Posen, and the Danes in Schleswig were only to be granted national autonomy under the sceptre of the German Emperor. At the same time, the idea of the independence of Finland, Russian Poland, and Ireland was strongly advocated. The demand for the restoration of the German colonies was curiously blended with the promises of independence for India, Siam, Korea.
The sun did not rise at the bidding of Chanticleer. The ballon d’essai failed. The Soviet was forced to admit that “time is necessary in order that the peoples of all countries should rise, and with an iron hand compel their rulers and capitalists to make peace.... Meanwhile, the comrade-soldiers who have sworn to defend Russian liberties should not refuse to advance, as this may become a military necessity....” The Revolutionary Democracy was perplexed, and their attitude was clearly expressed in the words of Tchkeidze: “We have been preaching against the War all the time. How can I appeal to the soldiers to continue the War and to stay at the Front?”
Be that as it may, the words “War” and “Advance” had been uttered. They divided the Soviet Socialists into two camps, the “Defeatists” and “Defensists.”[17] Theoretically, only the right groups of the Social Revolutionaries, the popular Socialists, the “Unity” (“Edistvo”) group, and the Labour party (“Trudoviki”) belonged to the latter. All other Socialists advocated the immediate cessation of the war and the “deepening” of the Revolution by means of internal Class War. In practice, when the question of the continuation of the war was put to the vote, the Defensists were joined by the majority of the Social Revolutionaries and of the Social Democrat Mensheviks. The resolutions, however, bore the stamp of ambiguity—neither war nor peace. Tzeretelli was advocating “a movement against the war in all countries, Allied and enemy.” The Congress of the Soviets at the end of May passed an equally ambiguous resolution, which, after demanding that annexations and indemnities should be renounced by all belligerents, pointed out that, “so long as the war lasts, the collapse of the Army, the weakening of its spirit, strength and capacity for active operations would constitute a strong menace to the cause of Freedom and to the vital interests of the country.” In the beginning of June the Second Congress passed a new resolution. On the one hand, it emphatically declared that “the question of the advance should be decided solely from the point of view of purely military and strategical considerations”; on the other hand, it expressed an obviously Defeatist idea: “Should the war end by the complete defeat of one of the belligerent groups, this would be a source of new wars, would increase the enmity between peoples, and would result in their complete exhaustion, in starvation and doom.” The Revolutionary Democracy had obviously confused two ideas: the strategic victory signifying the end of the war and the terms of the Peace Treaty, which might be humane or inhuman, righteous or unjust, far-seeing or short-sighted. In fact, what they wanted was war and an advance, but without a victory. Curiously enough, the Prussian Deputy, Strebel, the editor of Vorwaerts, invented the same formula as early as in 1915. He wrote: “I openly profess that a complete victory of the Empire would not benefit the Social Democracy.”
There was not a single branch of administration with which the Soviet and the Executive Committee did not interfere with the same ambiguity and insincerity, due on the one hand to the fear of any action contrary to the fundamentals of their doctrine, and on the other to the obvious impossibility of putting these doctrines into practice. The Soviet did not, and could not, partake in the creative work of rebuilding the State. With regard to Economics, Agriculture, and Labour, the activities of the Soviet were reduced to the publication of pompous Socialist Party programmes, which the Socialist Ministers themselves clearly understood to be impracticable in the atmosphere of War, Anarchy, and Economic crisis prevailing in Russia. Nevertheless, these Resolutions and Proclamations were interpreted in the factories and in the villages as a kind of “Absolution.” They roused the passions and provoked the desire, immediately and arbitrarily, to put them into practice. This provocation was followed by restraining appeals. In an appeal addressed to the sailors of Kronstadt on May 26th, 1917, the Soviet suggested “that they should demand immediate and implicit compliance with all the orders of the Provisional Government given in the interests of the Revolution and of the security of the country....”
All these literary achievements are not, however, the only form of activity in which the Soviet indulged. The characteristic feature of the Soviet and of the Executive Committee was the complete absence of discipline in their midst. With reference to the special Delegation of the Committee, whose object it was to be in contact with the Provisional Government, Stankevitch says: “What could that Delegation do? While it was arguing and reaching a complete agreement with the Ministers, dozens of members of the Committee were sending letters and publishing articles; travelling in the provinces, and at the Front in the name of the Committee; receiving callers at the Taurida Palace, everyone of them acting independently and taking no heed of instructions, Resolutions, or decisions of the Committee.”
Was the Central Committee of the Soviet invested with actual power? A reply to this question can be found in the appeal of the Organising Committee of the Labour Socialist Democratic Party of July 17th. “The watchword ‘All-Power to the Soviets,’ to which many workmen adhere, is a dangerous one. The following of the Soviets represents a minority in the population, and we must make every effort in order that the Bourgeois elements, who are still willing and capable of joining us in preserving the conquests of the Revolution, shall share with us the burdens of the inheritance left by the old régime, which we have shouldered, and the enormous responsibility for the outcome of the Revolution which we bear in the eyes of the people.” The Soviet, and later the All-Russian Central Committee, could not, and would not, by reason of its composition and their political ideas, exercise a powerful restraining influence upon the masses of the people, who had thrown off the shackles and were perturbed and mutinous. The movement had been inspired by the members of the Soviet, and the influence and authority of the Soviet were, therefore, entirely dependent on the extent to which they were able to flatter the instincts of the masses. These masses, as Karl Kautsky, an observer from the Marxist Camp, has said, “were concerned merely with their requirements and their desires as soon as they were drawn into the Revolution, and they did not care a straw whether their demands were practicable or beneficial to society.” Had the Soviet endeavoured to resist with any firmness or determination whatsoever the pressure of the masses, it would have run the risk of being swept away. Also, day after day and step by step, the Soviet was coming under the influence of Anarchist and Bolshevik ideas.
CHAPTER XI.
The Bolshevik Struggle for Power—The Power of the Army and the Idea of a Dictatorship.
In the first period—from the beginning of the Revolution until the coup d’état of November—the Bolsheviks were engaged in struggling to seize power by destroying the Bourgeois régime and disorganising the Army, thus paving the way for the avénement of Bolshevism, as Trotsky solemnly expressed it. On the day after his arrival in Russia Lenin published his programme, of which I will here mention the salient points:
(1) The War waged by the “Capitalist Government” is an Imperialistic, plundering War. No concessions, therefore, should be made to Revolutionary “Defensism.” The representatives of that doctrine and the Army in the field should be made clearly to understand that the War cannot end in a truly Democratic peace, without coercion, unless Capitalism is destroyed.
The troops must fraternize with the enemy.
(2) The first stage of the Revolution by which the Bourgeoisie came into power must be followed by the second stage in which power must pass into the hands of the Proletariat and of the poorest peasants.
(3) No support should be given to the Provisional Government, and the fallacy of its promises should be exposed.
(4) The fact must be acknowledged that, in the majority of the Soviets, the Bolshevik party is in a minority. The policy must therefore be continued of criticising and exposing mistakes, while at the same time advocating the necessity for the transfer of Supreme Power to the Soviet.
(5) Russia is not a Parliamentary Republic—that would have been a step backwards—but a Republic of the Soviets of Workmen’s and Peasants’ Deputies.
The police (Militia?), the Army, and the Civil Service must be abolished.
(6) With regard to the agrarian question, the Soviets of farm-labourers’ deputies must come to the fore. All landowners’ estates must be confiscated, and all land in Russia nationalised and placed at the disposal of Local Soviets of Peasants’ Deputies. The latter to be elected among the poorest peasants.
(7) All the banks in the country must be united in one National Bank, controlled by the Soviet.
(8) Socialism must not be introduced now, but a step must be taken towards the ultimate control by the Soviet of all industries and of the distribution of materials.
(9) The State shall become a Commune, and the Socialist Democratic Bolshevik Party shall henceforward be called “The Communist Party.”
I shall not dwell upon this programme, which was put into practice, with certain reservations, in November, 1917. During the first period the activities of the Bolsheviks, which are of great importance, were based upon the following three principles:
(1) The overthrow of the Government and the demoralisation of the Army.
(2) The promotion of class war in the country and discontent in the villages.
(3) The seizure of power by the minority, which, according to Lenin, was to be “well-organised, armed and centralised,” i.e., the Bolshevik party. (This was, of course, a negation of Democratic forms of Government.)
The ideas and aims of the party were, of course, beyond the understanding not only of the ignorant Russian peasantry, but even of the Bolshevik underlings scattered throughout the land. The masses wanted simple and clear watchwords to be immediately put into practice, which would satisfy their wishes and demands arising from the turmoil of the Revolution. That “simplified” Bolshevism inherent in all popular movements against the established power in Russia was all the easier to institute in that it had freed itself from all restraining moral influences and was aiming primarily at destruction pure and simple, ignoring the consequences of military defeat and of the ruin of the country. The Provisional Government was the first target. In the Bolshevik Press, at public meetings, in all the activities of the Soviets and Congresses, and even in their conversations with the members of the Provisional Government, the Bolshevik leaders stubbornly and arrogantly advocated its removal, describing it as an instrument of counter-Revolution and of International reaction. The Bolsheviks, however, refrained from decisive action, as they feared the political backwardness of the country as a whole. They began what soldiers call “a reconnaissance,” and carried it out with great intensity. They seized several private houses in Petrograd, and organised a demonstration on the 20th and 21st of April. That was the first “review” of the proletariat, at which an estimate was made of the Bolshevik forces. The excuse for this demonstration, in which the workmen and the troops participated, was given by Miliukov’s Note on International Policy. I say excuse because the real reason lay in the fundamental divergence of opinion mentioned above. Everything else was only a pretext. As a result of the demonstration there were great disturbances and armed conflicts in the capital, and many casualties. The crowds carried placards bearing the inscriptions: “Down with the Miliukov Policy of Conquests,” and “Down with the Provisional Government.”
The review was a failure. In the course of the debate in the Soviet on this occasion, the Bolsheviks demanded that the Government be deposed, but there was a note of hesitation in their speeches: “The proletariat should first discuss the existing conditions and form an estimate of its strength.” The Soviet passed a resolution condemning both the Government’s policy of conquest and the Bolshevik demonstration, while at the same time “congratulating the Revolutionary Democracy of Petrograd, which had proved its intense interest in international politics by meetings, resolutions and demonstrations.”
Lenin was planning another armed demonstration on a large scale on June 10th during the Congress of the Soviets; but it was countermanded, as the great majority of the Congress was opposed to it. The demonstration was likewise intended as a means of seizing power. This internal struggle between the two wings of the Revolutionary Democracy, which were bitterly antagonistic to one another, is extremely interesting. The Left wing made every endeavour to induce the “Defensist” block, which was preponderant, to break with the Bourgeoisie and to assume power. The block was also resolutely opposed to such a course.
Within the Soviets new combinations were coming into being. On certain questions the Social Revolutionaries of the Left and the Social Democrats—Internationalists—were leaning towards the Bolsheviks. Nevertheless, until September the Bolsheviks were not in a majority in the Petrograd Soviet or in many provincial Soviets. It was only on September 25th that Bronstein Trotsky succeeded Tchkeidze as Chairman of the Petrograd Soviet. The motto, “All Power to the Soviets,” sounded from their lips like self-sacrifice or provocation. Trotsky explained this contradiction by saying that, owing to constant re-elections, the Soviets reflected the true (?) spirit of the masses of workmen and soldiers, who were leaning to the Left, whereas, after the break with the Bourgeoisie, extremist tendencies were bound to prevail in the Soviets. As the true aspect of Bolshevism gradually revealed itself these dissensions deepened, and were not limited to the Social Democratic programme or to party tactics. It was a struggle between Democracy and the Proletariat, between the majority and a minority, which was intellectually backward, but strong in its mutinous daring and headed by strong and unprincipled men. It was a struggle between the democratic principles of Universal Suffrage, political liberties, equality, etc., and the dictatorship of a privileged class, madness, and imminent slavery. On the 2nd July there was a second Ministerial crisis, for which the outward cause was the disapproval of the Liberal Ministers of the Act of Ukrainian Autonomy. On July 3rd-5th the Bolsheviks made another riot in the Capital, in which workmen, soldiers and sailors participated. It was done this time on a large scale, and was accompanied by plunder and murder. There were many victims, and the Government was in great difficulty. Kerensky was at that time visiting us on the Western Front. His conversations with Petrograd over the direct wire indicated that Prince Lvov and the Government were deeply depressed. Prince Lvov summoned Kerensky to return to Petrograd at once, but warned him that he could not be responsible for his safety. The rebels demanded that the Soviet and the Central Executive Committee of the Congress should assume power. These wings of the Revolutionary Democracy returned another categorical refusal. The movement found no support in the provinces, and the mutiny was quelled chiefly by the Vladimir military school and the Cossack regiments. Several companies of the Petrograd garrison likewise remained loyal. Bronstein Trotsky wrote that the movement was premature because there were too many passive and irresolute elements in the garrison; but that it had nevertheless been proved that, “except the cadets, no one wanted to fight against the Bolsheviks for the Government and for the leading parties in the Soviet.”
The tragedy of the Government headed by Kerensky, and of the Soviet, lay in the fact that the masses would not follow abstract watchwords. They proved equally indifferent to the country and to the Revolution, as well as to the International, and had no intention of shedding their blood and sacrificing their lives for any of these ideas. The crowd followed those who gave practical promises and flattered its instincts.
When we speak of “power,” with reference to the first period of the Russian Revolution, we actually mean only its outward forms; for under the exceptional conditions imposed by a World War on a scale unequalled in history, when 20 per cent. of the entire male population was under arms, the power was really concentrated in the hands of the Army. That Army had been led astray, had been demoralised by false doctrines, had lost all sense of duty, and all fear of authority. Last, but not least, it had no leader. The Government, Kerensky, the Commanding Corps, the Soviet, Regimental Committees—for many reasons none of these could claim that title. The dissensions between all these contending forces were reflected in the minds of the men, and hastened the ruin of the Army. It is useless to make any surmises which cannot be proved by realities, especially in the absence of historical perspective; but there can be no doubt the question, whether or not it would have been possible to erect a dam which would have stemmed the tide and preserved discipline in the Army, will continue to arouse attention. Personally, I believe that it was possible. At first the Supreme Command might have done it, as well as the Government, had it shown sufficient resolve to squash the Soviets or sufficient strength and wisdom to draw them into the orbit of statesmanship and of truly democratic constructive work.
There can be no doubt that, in the beginning of the Revolution, the Government was recognised by all the sane elements of the population. The High Command, the officers, many regiments, the Bourgeoisie, and those Democratic elements which had not been led astray by militant Socialism adhered to the Government. The Press in those days was full of telegrams, addresses and appeals from all parts of Russia, from various Social, Military and class organisations and institutions whose democratic attitude was undoubted.
As the Government weakened and was driven into two successive coalitions, that confidence correspondingly decreased and could not find compensation in fuller recognition by the Revolutionary Democracy; because anarchist tendencies, repudiating all authority, were gaining ground within these circles. In the beginning of May, after the armed rising in the streets of Petrograd, which took place without the knowledge of the Soviet, but with the participation of its members; after the resignation of Miliukov and Gutchkov, the complete impotence of the Provisional Government became so clearly apparent that Prince Lvov appealed to the Soviet, with the consent of the Duma Committee and of the Constitutional Democratic Party. He invited “the active creative forces of the country to participate directly in the government which had hitherto refrained from any such participation.”
After some hesitation, the Soviet deemed it necessary to accept the offer, thereby assuming direct responsibility for the fate of the revolution. (Four members of the Soviet accepted Ministerial posts.) The Soviet declined to assume full power “because the transfer of power to the Soviets in that period of the revolution would have weakened it and would have prematurely estranged the elements capable of serving it, which would constitute a menace to the revolution.” The impression produced by such declarations upon the Bourgeoisie and upon the “hostages” in the Coalition Government can be imagined. Although the Soviet expressed full confidence in the Government and appealed to the democracy to grant it full support, which would guarantee the authority of the Government, that Government was already irretrievably discredited. The Socialist circles which had sent their representatives to join it neither altered nor strengthened its intellectual level. On the contrary, it was weakened, inasmuch as the gulf was widened which separated the two political groups represented in the Government. While officially expressing confidence in the Government, the Soviet continued to undermine its power and became somewhat lukewarm towards the Socialist Ministers, who had been compelled by circumstances to deviate, to a certain extent, from the programme of the Socialist party. The people and the Army did not pay much attention to these events, as they were beginning to forget that there was any power at all, owing to the fact that the existence of that power had no bearing upon their everyday life.
The blood shed during the Petrograd rising organised by the anarchist-Bolshevik section of the Soviet on July 4th-5th, Prince Lvov’s resignation, and the formation of a new coalition in which the Socialists, nominated by the Soviet, definitely predominated were but stepping stones towards the complete collapse of the power of the State. As I have already said, the first Government crisis was occasioned by events which, however important politically, were only “excuses.” In the new Coalition the Democratic Bourgeoisie played but a secondary part, and its “temporary” assistance was only required in order that responsibility might be shared; while everything was decided behind the curtain, in the circles closely connected with the Soviet. Such a coalition could have no vitality and could not reconcile even the opportunist elements of the Bourgeoisie with the Revolutionary Democracy. Apart from political and social considerations, the relative strength of the forces which were brought into play was influenced by the growing discontent of the masses with the activities of the Government owing to the general condition of the country. The masses accepted the revolution not as an arduous, transitory period, linked up with the past and present political development of Russia and of the world, but as an independent reality of the day, carrying in its trail real calamities such as the War, banditism, lawlessness, stoppage of industry, cold and hunger. The masses were unable to grasp the situation in its complex entirety and could not differentiate between elemental, inevitable phenomena inherent in all revolutions and the will for good or evil of departments of the Government, institutions or individuals. They felt that the situation was intolerable and tried to find a remedy. As a result of the universal recognition of the impotence of the existing power, a new idea began to occupy the minds of the people:
A DICTATORSHIP.
I emphatically declare that in the social and military circles with which I was in touch the tendency towards a dictatorship was prompted by a patriotic and clear consciousness of the abyss into which the Russian people was rapidly sinking. It was not in the slightest degree inspired by any reactionary or counter-revolutionary motives. There can be no doubt that the movement found adherents among the reactionaries and among mere opportunists; but both these elements were accessory and insignificant. Kerensky thus interpreted the rise of the movement which he described as “the tide of conspiracy”: “The Tarnopol defeat created a movement in favour of conspiracies, while the Bolshevik rising of July demonstrated to the uninitiated the depth of the disruption of Democracy, the impotence of the revolution against anarchy, as well as the strength of the organised minority which acted spontaneously.” It would be difficult to find a better excuse for the movement. In the atmosphere of popular discontent, universal disorder and approaching anarchy, endeavours at creating a dictatorship were the natural outcome of the existing conditions. These endeavours had their origin in a search for a strong national and democratic power, but not a reactionary one.
On the whole the Revolutionary Democracy lived in an atmosphere poisoned by the fear of a counter-revolution. All its cares, measures, resolutions and appeals, as well as the disruption of the Army and the abolition of the police in the villages, tended towards a struggle with this imaginary foe, which was supposed to menace the conquests of the revolution. Were the conscious leaders of the Soviet really convinced that such a danger existed, or were they fanning this unfounded fear as a tactical move? I am inclined to accept the second solution, because it was quite obvious, not only to myself, but to the Soviet as well, that the activities of the Democratic Bourgeoisie meant not counter-revolution, but merely opposition. And yet in the Russian partisan press and in wide circles outside Russia it is precisely in the former sense that the pre-November period of the Revolution was interpreted. The Provisional Government proclaimed a broad, Democratic programme upon its formation. In the circles of the Right this programme was criticised and there was discontent; but no active opposition. In the first four or five months after the beginning of the Revolution there was not a single important counter-revolutionary organisation in the country. These organisations became more or less active and other secret circles, especially officers’ circles, were formed in July in connection with the plans for a Dictatorship. There can be no doubt that many people with pronounced tendencies towards a restoration joined these circles. But their main object was to combat the unofficial government, which was a class government, as well as the personnel of the Soviet and the Executive Committee. Had these circles not collapsed prematurely owing to their weakness, numerical insignificance and lack of organisation, some of the members of those institutions might very possibly have been destroyed. While constantly resisting counter-revolution from the Right, the Soviet gave every opportunity for the preparations for a real counter-revolution emanating from its own midst, from the Bolsheviks.
I remember that different persons who came to the Stavka began to discuss the question of a dictatorship and to throw out feelers, as it were, approximately in the beginning of June. All these conversations were stereotyped to such an extent that I have no difficulty in summarising them.
“Russia is moving towards inevitable ruin. The Government is utterly powerless. We must have a strong power. Sooner or later we shall have to come to a Dictatorship.”
Nobody mentioned restoration or a change of policy in a reactionary direction. The names were mentioned of Kornilov and Brussilov. I warned them against hasty decisions. I must confess that we still entertained the illusory hope that the Government—by internal evolution, under the influence of a new, armed demonstration on the part of the anti-National extremist elements towards which they were so lenient—would realise the futility and hopelessness of continuing in their present position and would come to the idea of power vested in one man, which might be achieved in a constitutional manner. The future seemed pregnant with disaster in the absence of a truly lawful power. I pointed out that there were no military leaders enjoying sufficient authority with the demoralised soldiery, but that if a military dictatorship should become necessary for the State and practicable, Kornilov was already very much respected by the officers, whereas Brussilov’s reputation had been injured by his opportunism.
In his book Kerensky says that “Cossack circles and certain politicians” had suggested repeatedly to him that the impotent Government should be replaced by a personal dictatorship. It was only when society was disappointed in him as the “possible organiser and chief agent for altering the system of Government” that “a search began for another individual.”
There can be no doubt that the men and social circles that appealed to Kerensky in the question of a dictatorship were not his apologists and did not belong to the “Revolutionary Democracy,” but the mere fact of their appeal is sufficient proof that their motives could not have been reactionary, and that it reflected the sincere desire of the Russian patriotic elements to see a strong man at the helm in days of storm and strife.
Perhaps there may also have been another motive; there had been a short period, approximately in June, when not only the Russian public, but also the officers had succumbed to the charm of the War Minister’s impassioned oratory and pathos. The Russian officers, who were being sacrificed wholesale, had forgotten and forgiven and were desperately hoping that he would save the Russian Army. And their promise to die in the front line was by no means an empty one. During Kerensky’s visits to the front, it was a painful sight to see these doomed men, their eyes shining with exaltation, and their hearts beating with hope, a hope that was destined to be so bitterly and mercilessly disappointed.
It is to be noted that Kerensky, seeking in his book to justify the temporary “concentration of power” which he assumed on August 27th, says: “In the struggle against the conspiracy conducted by a single will, the State was compelled to set against it a will capable of resolute and quick action. No collective power, much less a Coalition, can possess such a single will.”
I think that the internal condition of the Russian State threatened with a monstrous joint conspiracy of the German General Staff and the anti-national and anti-constitutional elements of the Russian exiles was sufficiently grave to warrant the demand for a strong power “capable of resolute and quick action.”
CHAPTER XII.
The Activities of the Provisional Government—Internal Politics, Civil Administration—The Town, the Village and the Agrarian Problem.
I will deal in this and in the subsequent chapters with the internal condition of Russia in the first period of the Revolution only in so far as it affected the conduct of the World War. I have already mentioned the duality of the Supreme Administration of the country and the incessant pressure of the Soviet upon the Provisional Government. A member of the Duma, Mr. Shulgin, wittily remarked: “The old régime is interned in the fortress of Peter and Paul, and the new one is under domiciliary arrest.” The Provisional Government did not represent the people as a whole; it could not and would not forestall the will of the Constituent Assembly by introducing reforms which would shake the political and social structure of the State to its very foundations. It proclaimed that “not violence and compulsion, but the voluntary obedience of free citizens to the power which they had themselves created, constituted the foundation of the new administration of the State. Not a single drop of blood has been shed by the Provisional Government which has erected no barrier against the free expression of public opinion....” This non-resistance to evil at the moment when a fierce struggle, unfettered by moral or patriotic considerations, was being conducted by some groups of the population for motives of self-preservation and by others for the attainment by violence of extreme demands, was undoubtedly a confession of impotence. In the subsequent declarations of the second and third Coalition Governments mention was made “of stringent measures” against the forces of disorganisation in the country. These words, however, were never translated into deeds.
The idea of not forestalling the will of the Constituent Assembly was not carried out by the Government, especially in the domain of national self-determination. The Government proclaimed the independence of Poland, but made “the consent to such alterations of the territory of the Russian State as may be necessary for the creation of independent Poland” dependent upon the All-Russian Constituent Assembly. That proclamation, the legal validity of which is contestable, was, however, in full accord with the juridical standpoint of society. With regard to Finland, the Government did not alter her legal status towards Russia, but confirmed the rights and privileges of the country, cancelled all the limitations of the Finnish Constitution and intended to convoke the Finnish Chamber (“Seim”) that was to confirm the new constitution of the Principality. The Government subsequently adhered to their intention to entertain favourably all the just demands of the Finns for local reconstruction. Nevertheless, both the Provisional Government and Finland were engaged in a protracted struggle for power on account of the universal desire for the immediate satisfaction of the interests of the separate nationalities. On July 6th the Finnish Assembly passed a law (by the majority of Social-Democratic votes) proclaiming the assumption by that body of supreme power after the abdication “of the Finnish Grand-Duke” (the official title of the Russian Emperor). Only foreign affairs, military legislation and administration were left to the Provisional Government. This decision corresponded to a certain degree with the resolution of the Congress of Soviets, which demanded that full independence should be granted to Finland before the convocation of the Constituent Assembly, with the above-mentioned restrictions. The Russian Government answered this declaration of the actual independence of Finland by dissolving the Assembly, which met, however, once again in September of its own free will. In this struggle, the intensity of which varied according to the rise and fall of the political barometer in Petrograd, the Finnish politicians, disregarding the interests of the State and having no support whatsoever in the Army, counted exclusively upon the loyalty or, to be more correct, the weakness of the Provisional Government. Matters never reached the stage of open rebellion. The conscious elements of the population kept the country within the limits of reasonableness, not out of loyalty, but perhaps because they feared the consequences of civil war and especially of the sabotage in which the licentious soldiers and sailors would have presumably indulged.
May and June were spent in a struggle for power between the Government and the self-appointed Central Rada (Assembly). The All-Ukrainian Military Congress, also convened arbitrarily on June 8th, demanded that the Government should immediately comply with all the demands of the Central Rada and the Congresses, and suggested that the Rada should cease to address the Government, but should begin at once to organise the autonomous administration of the Ukraine. On June 11th the autonomous Constitution of the Ukraine was adopted and a Secretariat (Council of Ministers) formed under the chairmanship of Mr. Vinnichenko. After the Government envoys—the Ministers Kerensky, Tereschenko and Tzeretelli—had negotiated with the Rada, a proclamation was issued on July 2nd, which forestalled the decision of the Constituent Assembly and proclaimed the autonomy of the Ukraine with certain restrictions. The Central Rada and the Secretariat were gradually seizing the administration, creating a dual power on the spot and discrediting the All-Russian Government. They thus provoked civil strife and provided moral excuses for every endeavor to shirk civic and military duties to the common Mother Country. The Central Rada, moreover, contained from the outset sympathisers with Germany and was undoubtedly connected through the “Union for the Liberation of the Ukraine” with the headquarters of the Central Powers. Bearing in mind the ample material collected by the Stavka, Vinnichenko’s half-hearted confession to a French correspondent (?) with regard to Germanophil tendencies in the Rada, and finally the report of the Procurator of the Kiev Court of Appeal at the end of August, 1917, I cannot doubt that the Rada played a criminal part. The Procurator complained that the complete destruction of the machinery of intelligence and of criminal investigation deprived the Government prosecutors of the possibility of investigating the situation; he said that not only German espionage and propaganda, but the mutinies of the Ukrainian troops, as well as the destination of obscure funds of undoubted Austro-German origin ... could be traced to the Rada.
The Ministry of the Interior, which, in the old days, practically controlled the Autocracy and provoked universal hatred, now went to the other extreme. It all but abolished itself, and the functions of that branch of the administration were divided among local, self-appointed organisations. The history of the organs of the Ministry of the Interior is, in many ways, similar to the fate of the Supreme Command. On March 5th the Minister-President issued an order for the suppression of the offices of Governor and of Inspector of Police (“Ispravnik”), which were to be replaced by the presidents of the Provincial and District self-governing Councils (“Oupravas”), and for the police to be replaced by a militia organised by Social Institutions. This measure, adopted owing to the universal dislike for the agents of the old régime, was, in fact, the only actual manifestation of the Government’s will; because the status of the Commissars was not established by law until the month of September. The instructions and orders of the Government were, on the whole, of an academic nature, because life followed its own course, and was regulated, or, to be more correct, muddled up, by local revolutionary changes of the law. The office of Government Commissars became a sinecure from the very outset. They had no power or authority, and became entirely dependent upon revolutionary organisations. When the latter passed a vote of censure upon the activities of a Commissar, he could practically do nothing more. The organisations elected a new one, and his confirmation in office by the Provisional Government was a mere formality. In the first six weeks seventeen Provincial Commissars and a great many District Commissars were thus removed. Later, in July, Tzeretelli, during his tenure of the office of Minister of the Interior, which lasted for a fortnight, gave official sanction to this procedure and sent a circular to the Local Soviets and Committees, inviting them to send in to him the names of desirable candidates, which were to replace the unsuitable ones. Thus there remained no representatives of the Central power on the spot. In the beginning of the Revolution the so-called “Social Committees” or “Soviets of Social Organisation” really represented a social Institution comprising the union of towns and Zemstvos, of Municipal Dumas, professional Unions, Co-operatives, Magistrates, etc. Things went from bad to worse when these Social Committees were dissolved into class and party organisations. Local power passed into the hands of the Soviets of Workmen and Soldiers and in places before the law had been produced to “democratised” Socialistic Dumas, closely reminiscent of semi-Bolshevik Soviets.
The regulations issued by the Government on April 15th, on the organisation of Municipal Self-Government, comprised the following main points:
(1) All citizens of both sexes, having attained the age of twenty, were given the suffrage in the town.
(2) No domiciliary qualification was established.
(3) A proportional system of elections was introduced.
(4) The Military were given the suffrage in the localities in which the respective garrisons were quartered.
I will not examine in detail these regulations, which are probably the most Democratic ever known in Municipal Law, because the experience gained in their application was too short to afford any ground for discussion. I will only note one phenomenon which accompanied the introduction of these regulations in the autumn of 1917. The free vote in many places became a mockery. Throughout the length and breadth of Russia, all the non-Socialist and politically neutral parties were under suspicion and were subjected to persecution. They were not allowed to conduct propaganda, and their meetings were dispersed. Electioneering was characterised by blatant abuses. Occasionally election agents were subjected to violence and lists of candidates destroyed. At the same time the licentious and demoralised soldiery of many garrisons—chance guests in the town in which, as often as not, they had only appeared a day or two before—rushed to the polls and presented lists drawn up by the extreme Anti-National parties. There were cases when military units, arriving after the elections, demanded a re-election and accompanied this demand by threats and sometimes murders. There can be no doubt that, among the circumstances that affected the August elections in Petrograd to the Municipal Duma, to which sixty-seven Bolsheviks out of two hundred were elected, the presence in the Capital of numerous demoralised garrisons was not the least important. The authorities were silent because they were absent. The Petite Bourgeoisie, the intellectual workers, in a word, the Town Democracy in the widest sense, was the weakest party and was always defeated in that Revolutionary struggle. The mutinies, rebellions, and separations of various Republics—the precursors of the bloody Soviet Régime—had the most painful effect on the life of that portion of the community. The “self-determination” of the soldiers caused uneasiness and even fear of unrestricted violence. Even travelling was unsafe and difficult, because the railways fell into the hands of deserters. The “self-determination” of the workmen resulted in the impossibility of obtaining supplies of the most necessary commodities, owing to a tremendous rise in prices. The “self-determination” of the villages produced a stoppage of supplies, and the villages were thus left to starve; not to mention the moral ordeal of the class which was subjected to insults and degradation. The Revolution had raised hopes for the betterment of the conditions of life for everyone except the Bourgeois Democracy, because even the moral conquests proclaimed by the new Revolutionary power—liberty of speech, of the Press and of meetings, etc.—soon belonged exclusively to the Revolutionary Democracy. The upper Bourgeoisie (intellectually superior) was organised to a certain extent by means of the Constitutional Democratic Party, but the Petite Bourgeoisie (the Bourgeois Democracy) had no organisation whatsoever and no means for an organised struggle. The Democratic Municipalities were losing their true Democratic aspect—not as a result of the new Municipal law, but of Revolutionary practice—and became mere class organs of the Proletariat, or the representatives of purely Socialistic parties, completely out of touch with the people.
Self-government in the districts and in the villages in the first period of the Revolution was of more or less the same nature. Towards the autumn there should have been a Democratic system of Zemstvo Administration, on the same basis as that in the municipalities. The District (Volost) Zemstvo was to undertake the administration of local agriculture, education, order and safety. As a matter of fact, the villages were administered—if such a word can be applied to Anarchy—by a complex agglomeration of revolutionary organisations, such as peasant Congresses, Supply and Land Committees, Popular Soviets, Village Councils, etc. Very often another peculiar organisation—that of the deserters—dominated them all. At any rate, the All-Russian Union of Peasants agreed with the following declaration made by the left wing: “All our work for the organisation of various Committees will be of no avail if these Social Organisations are to remain under the constant threat of being terrorised by accidental armed bands.”
The only question that deeply perturbed the minds of the peasantry and overshadowed all other events, was the old, painful, traditional question:
THE QUESTION OF THE LAND.
It was an exceptionally complex and tangled question. It arose more than once in the shape of fruitless mutinies, which were ruthlessly suppressed. The wave of agrarian troubles which swept over Russia in the years of the First Revolution (1905-6) and left a trail of fire and ruined estates was an indication of the consequences that were bound to follow the Revolution of 1917. It is difficult to form an exhaustive idea of the motives which prompted the land-owners to defend their rights so stubbornly and so energetically: was it atavism, a natural yearning for the land, statesmanlike considerations as to the desirability of increasing the productivity of the land by introducing higher methods of agriculture, a desire to maintain a direct influence over the people, or was it merely selfishness?... One thing is certain—the agrarian reforms were overdue. Retribution could not fail to overtake the Government and the Ruling Classes for the long years of poverty, oppression, and, what is most important, the incredible moral and intellectual darkness in which the peasant masses were kept, their education being entirely neglected.
The peasants demanded that all land should be surrendered to them, and would not wait for the decision of the Central Land Committee or of the Constituent Assembly. This impatience was undoubtedly due, to a great extent, to the weakness of the Government and to outside influences, which will be described later. There was no divergence of opinion as to the fundamental idea of the reforms. The Liberal Democracy and the Bourgeoisie, the Revolutionary Democracy and the Provisional Government, all spoke quite definitely about “handing the land over to the workers.” With the same unanimity these elements favoured the idea of leaving the final decision on the reform of the land and legislation on the subject to the Constituent Assembly. This irreconcilable divergence of opinion arose by reason of the very essence of land reform. Liberal circles in Russia stood for the private ownership of the land—an idea which found increasing favour with the peasants—and demanded that the peasants should receive allotments rather than that the land should be entirely redistributed. On the other hand, the Revolutionary Democracy advocated, at all meetings of every party, class and profession, the adoption of the Resolution of the All-Russian Congress of Peasants, which was passed on May 25th, with the approval of the Minister Tchernov on “the transfer of all lands ... to the people as a whole, as their patrimony, on the basis of equal possession without any payment.” The peasants did not or would not understand this Social Revolutionary Resolution, which caused dissensions. The peasants were private owners by nature and could not understand the principle of nationalisation. The principle of equal possession meant that many millions of peasants, whose allotments were larger than the normal, would lose their surplus allotments, and the whole question of the redistribution of the land would lead to endless civil war; because there were innumerable peasants who had no land at all, and only 45,000,000 dessiatines of arable land which did not belong to the peasants to divide among 20,000,000 peasant households.
The Provisional Government did not consider itself entitled to solve the land problem. Under the pressure of the masses, it transferred its rights partly to the Ministry of Agriculture, partly to the Central Land Committee, which was organised on the basis of broad, democratic representation. The latter was entrusted with the task of collecting data and of drawing up a scheme of land reform, as well as of regulating the existing conditions with regard to the land. In practice, the use of the land transfer, rent, employment of labour, etc., were dealt with by the Local Land Committees. These bodies contained illiterate elements—the intellectuals as a rule were excluded—which had selfish motives and had no perception either of the extent or of the limits of their powers. The Central Representative Institutions and the Ministry of Agriculture, under Tchernov, issued appeals against arbitrariness and for the preservation of the land, pending the decision of the Constituent Assembly. At the same time they overtly encouraged “temporary possession of the land,” as seizure of the land was then described, on the excuse that the Government were obliged to sell as much land as possible. The propaganda that was conducted on a large scale in the villages by irresponsible representatives of Socialist and Anarchist circles completed Tchernov’s work.
The results of this policy were soon apparent. In one of his circulars to Provincial Commissars, the Minister of the Interior, Tzeretelli, admitted that complete anarchy reigned in the villages: “Land is being seized and sold, agricultural labourers are forced to stop working, and landowners are faced with demands which are economically impossible. Breeding stock is being destroyed and implements plundered. Model farms are being ruined. Forests are being cut down irrespective of ownership, timber and logs are being stolen, and their shipment prevented. No sowing is done on privately-owned farms, and harvests of grain and hay are not reaped.” The Minister accused the Local Committees and the Peasant Congresses of organising arbitrary seizures of the land, and came to the conclusion that the existing conditions of agriculture and forestry “would inevitably bring about endless calamities for the Army and the country, and threatened the very existence of the State.” If we recall the fires, the murders, the lynchings, the destruction of estates, which were often filled with treasures of great historical and artistic value, we shall have a true picture of the life of the villages in those days.
The question of the ownership of the land by the landlords was thus not merely a matter of selfish class interest, all the more as, not only the landlords but the wealthy peasants were subjected to violence by order of the Committees, and in spite of them. One village rose against another. It was not a question of the transfer of riches from one class or individual to another, but of the destruction of treasures, of agriculture, and of the economic stability of the State. The instincts of proprietorship inherent in the peasantry irresistibly grew as these seizures and partitions took place. The mental attitude of the peasantry upset all the plans of the Revolutionary Democracy. By converting the peasants into a Petite Bourgeoisie, it threatened to postpone to an indefinite date the triumph of Socialism. The villagers were obsessed by the idea of land distribution and by their own interests, and were not in the least concerned with the War, with politics, or with social questions which did not directly affect them. The workers of the village were being killed and maimed at the front, and the village, therefore, considered the War as a burden. The authorities disallowed seizures of the land and imposed restrictions in the shape of monopolies and fixed prices for corn. The peasantry, therefore, bore a grudge against the Government. The towns ceased to supply manufactured goods and the villages were estranged from the towns and ceased to supply them with grain. This was the only real “conquest” made by the Revolution, and those who profited by it grew very anxious as to the attitude of future Governments towards the arbitrary solution of the land question. They therefore actively encouraged anarchy in the villages, condoned seizures and undermined the authority of the Provisional Government. By this means they hoped to bring the peasants over to their side as supporters, or, at least, as a neutral element, in the impending decisive struggle for power.
The abolition of the police by the order issued on April 17th was one of the acts of the Government which seriously complicated the normal course of life. In reality, this act only confirmed the conditions which had arisen almost everywhere in the first days of the Revolution, and were directly due to the wrath of the people against the Executive of the old regime, and especially of those who had been oppressed and persecuted by the police and had suddenly found themselves on the crest of the wave. It would be a hopeless task to defend the Russian police as an institution. It could only be considered good by comparing it with the militia and with the Extraordinary Bolshevik Commission....
In any case it would have been useless to resist the abolition of the police, because it was a psychological necessity. There can be no doubt that the attitude and actions of the old police were due less to their political opinions than to the instructions of their employers and to their own personal interests. No wonder, therefore, that the gendarmes and the policemen, insulted and persecuted, introduced a very bad element into the Army, into which they were subsequently forcibly drafted. The Revolutionary Democracy, in self defence, grossly exaggerated their counter-revolutionary activities in the Army; nevertheless, it is absolutely true that a great many ex-officers of the police and of the gendarmerie, partly, perhaps, from motives of self-defence, chose for themselves a most lucrative profession—that of the demagogue and the agitator. The fact is that the abolition of the police in the very midst of the turmoil—when crime was on the increase and the guarantees of public safety and of the safety of individual property were weakened—was a real calamity. The militia, indeed, far from being a substitute for the police, was a caricature of them. In Western countries the police is placed as a united force under the orders of a Department of the Central Government. The Provisional Government placed the militia under the orders of Zemstvo and Municipal Administrations. The Government Commissars were only entitled to make use of the militia for certain definite purposes. The cadres of the militia were filled by untrained men, devoid of technical experience, and, as often as not, criminals. By virtue of the new law, there were admitted to the militia persons under arrest or who had served a term of imprisonment for comparatively grave offences. The system of recruiting practised by some forcibly “democratised” Zemstvo and Municipal institutions tended quite as much as the new law towards the deterioration of the personnel of the militia.
The Chief of the Central Administration of the Militia himself admitted that escaped convicts were sometimes placed in command of the militia. The villages were sometimes without any militia at all, and they administered themselves as best they could.
In its proclamation of April 25th the Provisional Government gave an accurate description of the condition of the country in stating that “the growth of new social ties was slower than the process of disruption caused by the collapse of the old régime.” In every feature of the life of the people this fact was clearly to be observed.
CHAPTER XIII.
The Activities of the Provisional Government: Food Supplies, Industry, Transport and Finance.
In the early spring of 1917 the deficiency in supplies for the Army and for the towns was rapidly growing. In one of its appeals to the peasants the Soviet said: “The enemies of freedom, the supporters of the deposed Czar, are taking advantage of the shortage of food in the towns for which they are themselves responsible in order to undermine your freedom and ours. They say that the Revolution has left the country without bread....” This simple explanation, adduced by the Revolutionary Democracy in every crisis, was, of course, one-sided. There was the inheritance of the old régime as well as the inevitable consequences of three years of war, during which imports of agricultural implements had come to a standstill, labourers were taken from the land, and, as a result, the area under crops was diminished. But these were not the only reasons for the food shortage in a fertile country—a shortage which in the autumn was considered by the Government as disastrous. The food policy of the Government and the fluctuation of prices, the depreciation of the currency and a rise in the price of commodities entirely out of proportion to the fixed prices for grain also largely contributed to this result. This rise in prices was due to general economic conditions, and especially to a very rapid rise in wages; to the agrarian policy of the Government, the inadequacy of the area under crops, to the turmoil in the villages, and to the breakdown of transport. Private trade was abolished and the entire matter of food supplies was handed over to Food Supply Committees—undoubtedly democratic in character, but, with the exception of the representatives of the Co-operatives, inexperienced and devoid of a creative spirit. There are many more reasons, great and small, which may be included in the formula: The Old Régime, the War and the Revolution.
On March 29th the Provisional Government introduced the grain monopoly. The entire surplus of grain, excluding normal supplies, seed corn and fodder, reverted to the State. At the same time the Government once again raised the fixed price of grain, and promised to introduce fixed prices for all necessary commodities, such as iron, textiles, leather, kerosine oil, etc. This last measure, which was universally recognised as just, and to which the Minister of Supplies attributed a very great importance, proved impossible of application owing to the confused condition of the country. Russia was covered by a huge network of Food Supply Institutions, which cost 500,000,000 roubles a year, but could not cope with their work. The villages, on the other hand, had ceased to pay taxes and rents, were flooded with paper money, for which they could get no equivalent in manufactured goods, and were by no means anxious to supply grain. Propaganda and appeals were of no avail, and, as often as not, force had to be applied.
In its Proclamation of August 29th the Government admitted that the Country was in a desperate position; the Government stores were emptying; towns, provinces, and armies at the Front were in dire need of bread, although, in fact, there was sufficient bread in the country. Some had not delivered last year’s harvest; some were agitating and preventing others from doing their duty. In order to avert grave danger, the Government once more raised the fixed prices and threatened to apply stringent measures against the offenders, and to regulate prices and the distribution of articles required by the villages. But the vicious circle of conflicting political, social and class interests was narrowing, like to a tight noose, round the neck of the Government, paralysing its will-power and energy.
The condition of industry was no less acute, and it was steadily falling into ruin. Here, as in the matter of supplies, the calamity cannot be ascribed to one set of causes, as happened when the employers and the workmen levelled accusations against one another. The former were charged with taking excessive profits and having recourse to sabotage in order to upset the Revolution, while the latter were blamed for slackness and greed and for deriving selfish gains from the Revolution. The causes may be divided into three categories.
Owing to various political and economic reasons and to the fact that the old Government did not devote sufficient attention to the development of the natural resources of the country, our industries were not placed on a solid basis, and were to a great extent dependent upon foreign markets even for such material as might easily have been found in Russia. Thus in 1912 there was a serious shortage of pig-iron, and in 1913 of fuel. From 1908 to 1913 imports of metals from abroad rose from 29 to 34 per cent. Before the War we imported 48 per cent. of cotton. We needed 2,750,000 pouds[18] of wool from abroad out of a total of the 5,000,000 pouds produced.
The War unquestionably affected industry very deeply. Normal imports came to a standstill. The mines of Dombrovsk were lost. Owing to strategical requirements, transport was weakened, supplies of fuel and of raw materials diminished. Most of the factories had to work for the Army, and their personnel was curtailed by mobilisations. From an economic point of view, the militarisation of industry was a heavy burden for the population, because, according to the estimates made by one of the Ministers, the Army absorbed 40 to 50 per cent. of the total of goods produced by the country. Finally, the War widened the gulf between the employers and the workmen, as the former made immense profits, whereas the latter were impoverished, and their condition was further aggravated by the suspension of certain professional guarantees on account of the War by the fact that certain categories of workmen were drafted by conscription to definite industrial concerns, and by the general burden of inflated prices and inadequate food supplies.
Even in these abnormal circumstances Russian industries to some extent fulfilled the requirements of the moment, but the Revolution dealt them a death blow, which caused their gradual dislocation and ultimate collapse. On the one hand, the Provisional Government was legislating for the establishment of a strict Government control of the industries of the country and for regulating them by heavily taxing profits and excess war profits, as well as by Government distribution of fuel, raw materials and food. The latter measure caused the trading class to be practically eliminated and to be replaced by democratic organisations. Whether excess profits disappeared as a result of this policy, or were merely transferred to another class, it is not easy to decide. On the other hand, the Government were deeply concerned with the protection of labour, and were drafting and passing various laws concerning the freedom of unions, labour exchanges, conciliation boards, social insurance, etc. Unfortunately, the impatience and the desire for “law-making” which had seized the villages were also apparent in the factories. Heads of industrial concerns were dismissed wholesale, as well as the administrative and technical staffs. These dismissals were accompanied by insults and sometimes by violence, out of revenge for past offences, real or imaginary. Some of the members of the staffs resigned of their own accord, because they were unable to endure the humiliating position into which they were forced by the workmen. Given our low level of technical and educational standards, such methods were fraught with grave danger. As in the Army, so in the factories, Committees replaced by elections the dismissed personnel with utterly untrained and ignorant men. Sometimes the workmen completely seized the industrial concerns. Ignorant and unprovided with capital, they led these concerns to ruin, and were themselves driven to unemployment and misery. Labour discipline in the factories completely vanished, and no means was left of exercising moral, material or judicial pressure or compulsion. The “consciousness” alone of the workers proved inadequate. The technical and administrative personnel which remained or was newly elected could no longer direct the industries and enjoyed no authority, as it was thoroughly terrorised by the workmen. Naturally, therefore, the working hours were still further curtailed, work became careless, and production fell to its lowest ebb. The metallurgical industries of Moscow fell 32 per cent. and the productivity of the Petrograd factories 20 to 40 per cent. as early as in the month of April. In June the production of coal and the general production of the Donetz basin fell 30 per cent. The production of oil in Baku and Grozni also suffered. The greatest injury, however, was inflicted upon the industries by the monstrous demands for higher wages, completely out of proportion to the cost of living and to the productivity of labour, as well as to the actual paying capacity of the industries. These demands greatly exceeded all excess profits. The following figures are quoted in a Report to the Provisional Government: In eighteen concerns in the Donetz Basin, with a total profit of 75,000,000 roubles per annum, the workmen demanded a wage increase of 240,000,000 roubles per annum; the total amount of increased wages in all the mining and metallurgical factories of the South was 800,000,000 roubles per annum. In the Urals the total Budget was 200,000,000, while the wages rose to 300,000,000. In the Putilov factory alone, in Petrograd, before the end of 1917, the increase in wages amounted to 90,000,000 roubles. The wages rose from 200 to 300 per cent. The increase in the wages of the textile workers of Moscow rose 500 per cent., as compared to 1914. The burden of these increases naturally fell on the Government, as most of the factories were working for the defence of the country. Owing to the condition of industry described above, and to the psychology of the workmen, industrial concerns collapsed, and the country experienced an acute shortage of necessary commodities, with a corresponding increase in prices. Hence the rise in the price of bread and the reluctance of the villages to supply the towns.
At the same time Bolshevism introduced a permanent ferment into the labouring masses. It flattered the lowest instincts, fanned hatred against the wealthy classes, encouraged excessive demands, and paralysed every endeavour of the Government and of the moderate Democratic organisations to arrest the disruption of industry: “All for the Proletariat and through the Proletariat....” Bolshevism held up to the working class vivid and entrancing vistas of political domination and economic prosperity, through the destruction of the Capitalist régime and the transfer to the workmen of political power, of industries, of the means of production, and of the wealth of the country. And all this was to come at once, immediately, and not as a result of a lengthy, social, economic process and organised struggle. The imagination of the masses, unfettered by knowledge or by the authority of leading professional unions, which were morally undermined by the Bolsheviks, and were on the verge of collapse, was fired by visions of avenging the hardships and boredom of heavy toil in the past, and of enjoying amenities of a Bourgeois existence, which they despised and yet yearned for with equal ardour. It was “Now or Never: All or Nothing!” As life was destroying illusions, and the implacable law of economics was meting out the punishment of high prices, hunger and unemployment, Bolshevism was the more convincingly insisting upon the necessity of rebellion and explaining the causes of the calamity and the means of averting it. The causes were: the policy of the Provisional Government, which was trying to reintroduce enslavement by the Bourgeoisie, the sabotage of the employers, and the connivance of the Revolutionary Democracy, including the Mensheviks, which had sold itself to the Bourgeoisie. The means was the transfer of power to the Proletariat.
All these circumstances were gradually killing Russian Industry.
In spite of all these disturbances, the dislocation of industry was not immediately felt in the Army to an appreciable degree, because attention was concentrated upon the Army at the expense of the vital necessities of the country itself, and also because for several months there had been a lull at the Front. In June, 1917, therefore, we were provided adequately, if not amply, for an important offensive. Imports of war material through Archangel, Murmansk, and partly through Vladivostok had increased, but had not been sufficiently developed by reason of the natural shortcomings of maritime routes, and of the low carrying capacity of the Siberian and of the Murmansk Railways. Only 16 per cent. of the actual needs of the Army were satisfied. The military administration, however, clearly saw that we were living on the old stores collected by the patriotic impulse and effort of the country in 1916. By August, 1917, the most important factories for the production of war materials had suffered a check. The production of guns and of shells had fallen 60 per cent., and of aircraft 80 per cent. The possibility of continuing the War under worse material conditions was, however, amply proved later by the Soviet Government, which had been using the supplies available in 1917 and the remnants of Russian Industrial production for the conduct of civil war for more than three years. This, of course, was only possible through such an unexampled curtailment of the consuming market that we are practically driven back to primitive conditions of life.