The Finland Station, on Petrograd’s Vyborg side, shortly
before midnight on 3 April 1917: workers and soldiers, with red flags and
banners, fill the station hall; and there is a military band. The square
outside is packed with automobiles and tank-like armoured cars; and the cold
night air is blue with smoke. A mounted searchlight sweeps over the faces of
the crowd and across the facades of the building, momentarily lighting up the
tram-lines and the outlines of the city beyond. There is a general buzz of
expectation: Lenin’s train is due.
(Orlando Figes, A People's Tragedy, London 1996)
3 April
Lenin and his party arrived in Petrograd on April 3 at 11.10
p.m. It happened to be the final day of the All-Russian Bolshevik Conference,
and his followers prepared him for a welcome accorded to no other political
figure in post-tsarist Russia. As the train pulled into Finland station, a band
struck up the ‘Marseillaise’; outside the terminal stood an armoured car
illuminated by a projector. Lenin mounted the car to deliver a short message,
and then, followed by a crowd, rode to Kshesinskaia’s villa. There he delivered
a speech whose militancy stupefied everyone present. Its thrust was that the
transition from the ‘bourgeois’ phases of the revolution to the socialist one
had to be accomplished in a matter of weeks rather than years … Later that day
Lenin read to his followers a document which came to be known as ‘the April
Theses’. It impressed most members of his audience as written by someone out of
touch with reality, if not positively mad. Lenin proposed renunciation of the
war; immediate transition to the next phase of the Revolution; denial of any
support to the Provisional Government; transfer of all power to the soviets;
dissolution of the army in favour of a people’s militia; confiscation of
landlord property and nationalization of all land; integration of Russia’s
financial institutions into a single National Bank under soviet supervision;
soviet control of production and distribution; and creation of a new
International.
(Richard Pipes, A Concise History of the Russian Revolution, London 1995)
Memoir by the Menshevik Nikolai Sukhanov
I cannot forget that speech, like a flash of lightning,
which shook and astonished not only me, a heretic accidentally thrown into
delirium, but also the true believers. I aver that no one had expected anything
like it. It seemed as if all the elemental forces had risen from their lairs
and the spirit of universal destruction, which knew no obstacles, no doubts,
neither human difficulties nor human calculations, circled in Ksheskinskaia’s
hall above the heads of the enchanted disciples.
(N.N. Sukhanov, The Russian Revolution 1917: a Personal Record, Oxford 1955)
Report in The Times
(from our own correspondent in the Balkan peninsula)
General Brusiloff: I greatly esteem the Council of Labour Deputies, but the
order which it issued at first entailed much harm. As is known, it states that
officers must be chosen by the soldiers. Such a thing has never been seen.
There is no such army in the whole world. If there were it would not be an army, but
a mob. This was more dangerous because of its possible results behind the front.
Here there is complete solidarity between the officers and soldiers in the
trenches. This order is not so pernicious at the front, where it failed to
destroy discipline and comradeship, as it did in the rear. There the effect was
really destructive in many places – not in our Army, be it said to its honour,
but in the remote rear of Russia … Those who think that the war can now be
ended or that the country can be saved without going ahead are mistaken. To
beat the enemy one must go ahead, for he who advances wins. Lastly, the Germans
occupy a large area of our country, and all this must be won back.
('General Brusiloff’s Warning', The Times)
4 April
Cable from German agent in Stockholm to Berlin: ‘Lenin’s
entry into Russia was successful. He is working exactly as we desire.’
(Richard Pipes, A Concise History of the Russian Revolution, London 1995)
Resolution of workers of the Petrograd Pipe Factory, printed
in Izvestiia
We, the workers of shop no. 3 at the Petrograd Pipe Factory,
having assembled in a meeting of 2,600, are deeply indignant at the persecution
on the part of the bourgeois press and various dark and ignorant persons who,
while trying to sow hostility between workers and soldiers, say that the
workers are not working but only demanding an increase in their wages and an
eight-hour day. This, comrade soldiers, is not true. We appreciate the gravity
of the present moment and, aware that our brothers and fathers are sitting
there in the damp trenches, defending our Free and Great Russia, we are
prepared to work not eight but twelve hours, and more if necessary and if we
have the metal, material, and fuel. We ask you, comrade soldiers, not to believe
the various provocative rumours but to select a delegation and send them to see
us in the factories … With comradely greetings, the workers of shop no. 3.
Chairman of the meeting, F. Golakhov, Secretary, I. Gavrilov
(Mark D. Steinberg, Voices of Revolution, 1917, New
Haven and London 2001)
Diary entry of Georges-Maurice Paléologue, French Ambassador to Russia
A disgusting scene was witnessed a few days ago in the
Russian Church at Helsingfors. A funeral service was being held for
Lieutenant-Commander Polivanov, who was murdered by his crew during the recent
disorders. The coffin was open as the orthodox rite prescribes. Suddenly a mob
of workmen and sailors burst into the church. The whole lot marched past the
catafalque in single file and spat in the dead man’s face. The stricken and
weeping widow wiped the sullied features with her handkerchief and implored the
brutes to cease their infamous behaviour. But, thrusting her roughly aside,
they seized the coffin, turned it upside down, emptied out the corpse, the
candles and the wreaths, and left the church bawling the Marseillaise.
(Maurice Paléologue, An Ambassador's Memoirs 1914-1917, London 1973)
5 April
Diary entry of Georges-Maurice Paléologue, French Ambassador to Russia
This morning Milukov gleefully remarked to me: ‘Lenin was a
hopeless failure with the Soviet yesterday. He argued the pacifist cause so
heatedly, and with such effrontery and lack of tact, that he was compelled to
stop and leave the room amidst a storm of booing. He will never survive it.’ I
answered him in Russian fashion: ‘God grant it!’ But I very much fear that once
again Miliukov will prove the dupe of his own optimism. Lenin’s arrival is in
fact represented to me as the most dangerous ordeal the Russian revolution could
have to face.
(Maurice Paléologue, An Ambassador's Memoirs 1914-1917, London 1973)
6 April
Report in The Times
(from our own correspondent in the Balkan peninsula)
Odessa: The revolutionary movement pursues its course in Southern
Russia with a tranquillity that seems almost miraculous. Here in Odessa there
has not been a drop of blood shed. Meetings have been held, orderly
demonstrations have taken place in the streets, but there have been no riots.
Travelling hither from Jassy last Monday I was unable to discover any symptoms
of popular excitement. The railway stations presented their usual aspect. All
railway employees and the police have sworn fidelity to the new regime. Trains
have become more punctual and supplies of provisions now reach Odessa more
regularly. In all this this region a heavy snowfall has been followed by a
rapid thaw, and the floods have claimed more victims than the bloodless
revolution.
('The Revolution in Southern Russia: Tranquil Transformation', The Times)
8 April
Memoirs of Count Bendendorf
On this day, the officer commanding the incoming Guard was a
former sergeant-major who, as soon as he had arrived at the Palace, had made
himself conspicuous by his violence and his revolutionary opinions. He wished
to search the Palace, threatening everyone with worse treatment if he found
anything suspicious. When the Emperor held out his hand, he moved a step back
and said, ‘Not for anything in the world.’ Then the Emperor advanced a step and
said, ‘What have you got against me?’ He remained open-mouthed, turned on his
heel, and left the room.
(Sergei Mironenko, A Lifelong Passion, London 1996)
Report in The Times (by a ‘competent observer, who witnessed the Revolution in Russia, and has just returned to Western Europe')
The most astonishing feature of the whole Revolution was the
revelation of the weakness of the Tsar’s hold upon the people, peasants and
workmen alike. He was nothing to them, hardly even a name. I have visited
several parts of the country since the Revolution, and have nowhere found
regret at the abdication of the Tsar. The peasants are far more interested in
the local landowners than in the ex-Emperor. They seem scarcely to have been
affected by the propaganda for a free
distribution of the land, but have in many places expressed a wish to be
allowed to buy land at fair prices from the Government. It is true that one peasant
woman whom I saw wept on hearing of the abdication of the Tsar. ‘How shall we
now say our prayers?’ she asked tearfully. It was explained to her that she
could now pray for the Duma. This substitution of the name of the Duma for that
of the Tsar is now widespread in Russia: and prayers are daily offered for the
welfare and health of the Duma.
('How Tsardom Fell. New Sidelights on the Revolution', The Times)
10 April
Sir George Buchanan, British Ambassador to the Imperial Court
Kerensky dined at the Embassy last night ... and in a long conversation I told him quite frankly why my confidence in the army, and even in the Provisional Government, was shaken. He admitted the accuracy of the facts which I cited, but said that he knew his people and that he only hoped that the Germans would not delay taking the offensive, as, when once the fighting began, the army would pull itself together. He wanted, he said, to make the war a national one, as it was in England and France. He saw no danger of the Provisional Government being overthrown, as only a small minority of the troops were on the side of the Soviet. He added that the Communistic doctrines preached by Lenin have made the Socialists lose ground.
(Sir George Buchanan, My Mission to Russia, London 1923)
Diary entry of Georges-Maurice Paléologue, French Ambassador to Russia
Albert Thomas asked to have a talk with me privately in my own room. There he said in a serious but friendly tone: 'Monsieur Ribot [French Minister of Foreign Affairs] has given me a letter for you; he left it to my discretion when I should hand it over to you. I have much too high a regard for you not to give it to you at once. Here it is.' It was dated the 13th April. I read it, without the slightest surprise or emotion ... 'Monsieur l'Ambassadeur ... It has seemed to the Government that your position of favour with the Emperor would make it more difficult for you to carry on your duties under the present government. You will realize that in new circumstances a new man is required, and you have told me, with a delicacy of feeling I highly appreciate, that you were ready to sacrifice yourself by laying aside all personal considerations. I take this opportunity of thanking you for this proof of your disinterestedness, which does not surprise me in a man like you, and of telling you at the same time that we will not forget the great services you have rendered our country.'
(Maurice Paléologue, An Ambassador's Memoirs 1914-1917,
London 1973)
14 April
Memoir by the Menshevik Nikolai Sukhanov
First of all - there can be no doubt about it - Lenin is an extraordinary phenomenon, a man of absolutely exceptional intellectual power ... he represents an unusually happy combination of theoretician and popular leader ... The Bolshevik party was the work of his hands, and his alone. The very thought of going against Lenin was frightening and odious, and required from the Bolshevik mass what it was incapable of giving ... without Lenin, there was nothing and no one in the party.
(N.N. Sukhanov, The Russian Revolution 1917: a Personal Record, Oxford 1955)
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15 April 2017
Quite an interesting counter-factual piece in Vedomosti, wondering what would have happened if the war had not sapped morale to the extent that it did, and Russia had continued to a victorious conclusion:
Let’s suppose that the arctic conditions didn’t happen, the workers’ protests weren’t so widespread, the demonstrators weren’t harried and so on – and that the Russian empire continued more or less without a hitch until the spring. What would then have happened? Russia, having survived the winter with enormous difficulty, tries with all its might to hold the front. Soldiers are increasingly less keen to fight, but the front holds and Germany is forced to retain the strength of its forces. In April 1917 the USA enters the fray. Since the informal truce between Russia and Turkey doesn’t happen, the advance by English troops into Mesopotamia is far more successful. By the end of 1917 it’s clear that Germany cannot continue the war and the hope that Russia will pull out is not envisaged. Germany capitulates by the end of the year. Russia receives its cherished Bosphorus and Dardanelles, and as victor claims it share in the war indemnity. The army quickly and at times randomly reduces from 7 million men under arms at the end of the war to the pre-war figure of 1.5 million. Another 3 million are released from captivity. Most of them are peasants. They’re embittered, tired of war, they’ve learnt how to kill and handle a weapon. The victorious tsar is garlanded with laurels. The capital celebrates the victory. But who has benefited? The elite, of course … But the land question hasn’t gone away, particularly with the peasants returning from the war to find destruction, sometimes family members killed, land or property taken off them. And this is not all. The country is hit by inflation. Prices are three times higher than before the war. The main pre-war trading partners – Germany and Austro-Hungary – lie in ruins. Industry has been shifted onto a war footing and cannot meet the needs of the population. The regions are populated by refugees, displaced people, prisoners. Everyone wants to get home as quickly as possible. The roads are paralysed by a scarcity of engines and trucks. There’s little bread, but the cities in any case can’t offer the villages goods in exchange for food. Furthermore, the soldiers who have spent time in Europe, especially the Russian expeditionary force that fought in France, are now convinced that life over there is better. As a result, in the spring of 1918 the country undergoes an epidemic of peasant unrest, led by those who fought on the front. Estates are put to the torch, officials are killed, the country comes to a halt. The army doesn’t want to fight against its former comrades-in-arms. In many provinces the soldiers stand alongside the peasants. The cities are beset by uprisings from lack of bread. The Duma accuses the government and tsar of being unable to resolve the peasant issue. Political activity becomes more extreme, particularly in the case of the Socialist Revolutionary party. A huge number of soviets are created as an alternative source of authority.
The end result, the author concludes, of this ‘alternative history’ is almost certainly revolution, removal of the tsar, and a bitter civil war; in other words, what actually happened, just delayed by a year or so. The key event was therefore not the revolution as such but Russia’s involvement in the First World War, which was little short of inevitable. It was this, he suggests, which led to the ‘catastrophe of 1917’.
8 October
Letter from Lenin to the Bolshevik Comrades attending the Regional Congress of
the Soviets of the Northern Region
Comrades, Our revolution is passing through a highly critical period …
A gigantic task is being imposed upon the responsible leaders of our Party,
failure to perform which will involve the danger of a total collapse of the
internationalist proletarian movement. The situation is such that verily,
procrastination is like unto death … In the vicinity of Petrograd and in
Petrograd itself — that is where the insurrection can, and must, be decided on
and effected … The fleet, Kronstadt, Viborg, Reval, can and must advance
on Petrograd; they must smash the Kornilov regiments, rouse both the capitals,
start a mass agitation for a government which will immediately give the land to
the peasants and immediately make proposals for peace, and must overthrow
Kerensky’s government and establish such a government. Verily, procrastination
is like unto death.
(V.I. Lenin and Joseph Stalin, The Russian Revolution: Writings and Speeches
from the February Revolution to the October Revolution, 1917, London 1938)
9 October
Report in The Times
The Maximalist [Bolshevik], M. Trotsky, President of the Petrograd Soviet,
made a violent attack on the Government, describing it as irresponsible and
assailing its bourgeois elements, ‘who,’ he continued, ‘by their attitude are
causing insurrection among the peasants, increasing disorganisation and trying
to render the Constituent Assembly abortive.’ ‘The Maximalists,’ he declared,
‘cannot work with the Government or with the Preliminary Parliament, which I am
leaving in order to say to the workmen, soldiers, and peasants that Petrograd,
the Revolution, and the people are in danger.’ The Maximalists then left the
Chamber, shouting, ‘Long live a democratic and honourable peace! Long live the
Constituent Assembly!’
(‘Opening of Preliminary Parliament’, The Times)
10 October
As Sukhanov left his home for the Soviet on the morning of the 10th, his
wife Galina Flakserman eyed nasty skies and made him promise not to try to
return that night, but to stay at his office … Unlike her diarist husband,
who was previously an independent and had recently joined the Menshevik left,
Galina Flakserman was a long-time Bolshevik activist, on the staff of Izvestia.
Unbeknownst to him, she had quietly informed her comrades that comings and
goings at her roomy, many-entranced apartment would be unlikely to draw
attention. Thus, with her husband out of the way, the Bolshevik CC came
visiting. At least twelve of the twenty-one-committee were there … There
entered a clean-shaven, bespectacled, grey-haired man, ‘every bit like a
Lutheran minister’, Alexandra Kollontai remembered. The CC stared at the
newcomer. Absent-mindedly, he doffed his wig like a hat, to reveal a familiar
bald pate. Lenin had arrived.
(China Miéville, October: The Story of the Russian Revolution, London 2017)
Memoir by the Menshevik Nikolai
Sukhanov
Oh, the novel jokes of the merry muse of History! This supreme and decisive
session took place in my own home … without my knowledge … For such a
cardinal session not only did people come from Moscow, but the Lord of Hosts
himself, with his henchman, crept out of the underground. Lenin appeared in a
wig, but without his beard. Zinoviev appeared with a beard, but without his
shock of hair. The meeting went on for about ten hours, until about 3 o’clock
in the morning … However, I don’t actually know much about the exact
course of this meeting, or even about its outcome. It’s clear that the question
of an uprising was put … It was decided to begin the uprising as quickly
as possible, depending on circumstances but not on the Congress.
(N.N. Sukhanov, The Russian Revolution 1917: a Personal Record, Oxford 1955)
11 October
British Consul Arthur Woodhouse in a letter home
Things are coming to a pretty pass here. I confess I should like to be out
of it, but this is not the time to show the white feather. I could not ask for
leave now, no matter how imminent the danger. There are over 1,000 Britishers
here still, and I and my staff may be of use and assistance to them in an
emergency.
(Helen Rappaport, Caught in the Revolution: Petrograd 1917, London 2017)
Memoir of Fedor Raskolnikov, naval
cadet at Kronstadt
The proximity of a proletarian rising in Russia, as prologue to the world
socialist revolution, became the subject of all our discussions in
prison … Even behind bars, in a stuffy, stagnant cell, we felt instinctively
that the superficial calm that outwardly seemed to prevail presaged an
approaching storm … At last, on October 11, my turn [for release]
came … Stepping out of the prison on to the Vyborg-Side embankment and
breathing in deeply the cool evening breeze that blew from the river, I felt
that joyous sense of freedom which is known only to those who have learnt to
value it while behind bards. I took a tram at the Finland Station and quickly
reached Smolny … In the mood of the delegates to the Congress of Soviets
of the Northern Region which was taking place at that time .. an unusual
elation, an extreme animation was noticeable … They told me straightaway
that the CC had decided on armed insurrection. But there was a group of
comrades, headed by Zinoviev and Kamenev, who did not agree with this decision
and regarded a rising a premature and doomed to defeat.
(F.F. Raskolnikov, Kronstadt and Petrograd in 1917, New York 1982, first
published 1925)
12 October
Sir George Buchanan, British Ambassador to Russia
On [Kerensky] expressing the fear that there was a strong anti-Russian
feeling both in England and France, I said that though the British public was
ready to make allowances for her difficulties, it was but natural that they
should, after the fall of Riga, have abandoned all hope of her continuing to
take an active part in the war … Bolshevism was at the root of all the
evils from which Russia was suffering, and if he would but eradicate it he
would go down to history, not only as the leading figure of the revolution, but
as the saviour of his country. Kerensky admitted the truth of what I had said,
but contended that he could not do this unless the Bolsheviks themselves
provoked the intervention of the Government by an armed uprising.
(Sir George Buchanan, My Mission to Russia, London 1923)
13 October
Diary entry of Louis de Robien, attaché at the French Embassy
Kerensky is becoming more and more unpopular, in spite of certain grotesque
demonstrations such as this one: the inhabitants of a district in Central
Russia have asked him to take over the supreme religious power, and want to
make him into a kind of Pope as well as a dictator, whereas even the Tsar was
really neither one nor the other. Nobody takes him seriously, except in the
Embassy. A rather amusing sonnet about him has appeared, dedicated to the beds
in the Winter Palace, and complaining that they are reserved for hysteria
cases … for Alexander Feodorovich (Kerensky’s first names) and then
Alexandra Feodorovna (the Empress).
(Louis de Robien, The Diary of a Diplomat in Russia 1917–1918, London 1969)
14 October 2017
The BBC2 semi-dramatisation of how the Bolsheviks took power, shown this week,
was a curious thing. Talking heads in the form of Figes, Mieville, Rappaport,
Sebag-Montefiore, Tariq Ali, Martin Amis and others were interspersed with
moody reconstructions of late-night meetings, and dramatic moments such as
Lenin’s unbearded return to the Bolshevik CC (cf Sukhanov above). The programme
felt rather staged and unconvincing, with a lot of agonised expressions and
fist-clenching by Lenin, but the reviewers liked it. Odd, though, that
Eisenstein’s storming of the Winter Palace is rolled out every time, with a
brief disclaimer that it’s a work of fiction and yet somehow presented as
historical footage. There’s a sense of directorial sleight of hand, as if the
rather prosaic taking of the palace desperately needs a re-write. In some
supra-historical way, Eisenstein’s version has become the accepted version.
John Reed’s Ten Days that Shook the World
, currently being
serialised on Radio 4, is also presented with tremendous vigour, and properly
so as the book is nothing if not dramatic. Historical truth, though, is often
as elusive in a book that was originally published — in 1919 — with an
introduction by Lenin. ‘Reed was not’, writes one reviewer, ‘an ideal observer.
He knew little Russian, his grasp of events was sometimes shaky, and his facts
were often suspect.’ Still, that puts him in good company, and Reed is
undoubtedly a good read.