5 - 11 November 1917
- By Mark Sutcliffe
- •
- 20 Nov, 2017
- •
as per the Gregorian calendar. 5 November 2017
5 November
Diary entry of Joshua Butler Wright, Counselor of the
American Embassy, Petrograd
Cold — with first real ice and snow of the year. About 35 men, women and
children will leave on Tuesday together with the majority of the Red Cross
mission who, notwithstanding what seems to me to be a wonderful opportunity to
save the cause for which they have enlisted, are going to quit.
(Witness to Revolution: The Russian Revolution Diary and Letters of J. Butler
Wright, London 2002)
6 November
Sir George Buchanan, British Ambassador to Russia
The government is now in the hands of a small clique of extremists, who are
bent on imposing their will on the country by terroristic methods … Some
of the [factory delegations] held very outspoken language, saying that all
Lenin and Trotzky wanted was to sleep, as Kerensky had done, in Nicholas’s bed.
(Sir George Buchanan, My Mission to Russia, London 1923)
Diary entry of Louis de Robien,
attaché at the French Embassy
The government of Peoples’ Commissars has still not been constituted, and
well-informed people say every night that it cannot last ‘another day’ …
And yet in spite of these assurances the Bolsheviks are still masters, and I
cannot imagine who there could be to even compete with them for power …
Each day one hears of some new split and some sensational new patching-up;
there are announcements that a new army is marching on Petrograd, that the
Cossacks are arriving in Moscow, that railway-lines have been cut, that the
Germans are landing on every coast … and each day passes in peace and
quiet. All these reports are untrue and even if they were true they do not
interest anyone, and people in the street and even in the drawing-rooms can
only talk of the best way to get hold of a sack of flour or a few eggs.
(Louis de Robien, The Diary of a Diplomat in Russia 1917–1918, London 1969)
7 November
On 7 November the new Commissar of Finance, V.R. Menzhinsky, appeared at the
State Bank with a detachment of sailors and demanded the money; but the bankers
stood firm and, despite further armed threats, dismissals and ultimatums,
continued their strike.
(Orlando Figes, A People’s Tragedy, London 1996)
Lenin and Trotsky do not have the
slightest idea of the meaning of freedom or the Rights of Man. They have
already become poisoned with the filthy venom of power, and this is shown by
their shameful attitude towards freedom of speech, the individual, and all
those other civil liberties for which the democracy struggled.
(Maxim Gorky in his column for Novaya zhizn, cited in Figes, A
People’s Tragedy)
8 November
Diary entry of Alexander Benois, artist and critic
Nemanov [colleague of Benois at Rech’ newspaper] considers
Kerensky a pathetic liar and hypocrite … Kornilov, in his opinion, simply
an idiot and Kaledin [head of the Don Cossack forces] a
jackass. Overall Nemanov shares Paleologue’s opinion that in Russia we just
don’t have any statesmanlike people. There was one who had real determination
and personal courage — Stolypin, and that was why the revolutionaries
immediately did away with him.
(Alexander Benois, Diary 1916–1918, Moscow 2006)
9 November
Empress Maria in Ai-Todor to her son, former emperor Nicholas II, in Tobolsk
My dear darling Nicky!
You know that my thoughts and prayers never leave you — day and night I
think of you all, sometimes it is so painful, that I can almost bear it no
longer … l live only by remembering the past and try, if possible, to
forget the present nightmare.
(Sergei Mironenko, A Lifelong Passion, London 1996)
10 November
[In Red Square] a young soldier spoke to us in German … ‘You foreigners
look down on us Russians because so long we tolerated a medieval
monarchy … But we saw that the Tsar was not the only tyrant in the world;
capitalism was worse, and in all the countries of the world capitalism was
Emperor … Russian revolutionary tactics are best.’
(John Reed, Ten Days that Shook the World, New York 1919)
Diary entry of Alexander Benois,
artist and critic
This morning, as I was deep in two different curtain designs for Petrushka,[Benois’s
wife] Akitsa runs in with the paper and starts begging me to be more
careful with ‘them’ and not getting involved in any kind of dealings — clearly
thinking of yesterday’s visit by [Commissar for Enlightenment] Lunacharsky
and not believing my oft-repeated decision to stand apart from politics and
political activity. My involvement with them is exclusively with the aim of
protecting artistic heritage. From her alarm I realised that something
significant and unpleasant had happened, and I must admit that I am also
disturbed by many of the recent acts of the Bolsheviks … Fortunately, just
before Lunacharsky came we were visited by Count [de] Robien, and his cheerful
gossip, anecdotes and humour lifted my spirits a little. He is singularly
delighted that the war is juddering to an end. He is clearly enjoying much of
what is happening, although at the same time he recognizes that he himself is
also in some danger — as is the whole diplomatic community. To get petrol for
his car he went to Smolny — and enjoyed the scene of this ‘fairground of
triumphant proletariat’! He told how Grand Duke Pavel Alexandrovich was
arrested and asked by the soldiers guarding him to read them the newspaper.
They got hold of a copy of Pravda and the Grand Duke, sitting there in a fug of
tobacco smoke, read them Pravda from cover to cover. There’s something quite
symbolic in this.
(Alexander Benois, Diary 1916–1918, Moscow 2006)
11 November
Diary entry of Louis de Robien, attaché at the French
Embassy
I went to see the Grand Duke Paul and Princess Paley in Countess Kreutz’s
apartment, where they have taken refuge while waiting to be allowed to go back
to Tsarskoye Selo. I found the Grand Duke wonderfully courageous, relating the
details of his arrest and of his detention at Smolny with great good humour.
But they went through some terrible hours as after the fall of Kerensky they
were at the mercy of the red hordes … The Grand Duke has no complaints
about his guards: some of them even addressed him as ‘Comrade Highness’! They
found an armchair for him and settled him into it; one of them then begged him
to read the newspaper to them and explain it, and they asked his permission to
smoke while listening. The Grand Duke naturally agreed, and it must have been
strange to see this Romanov in general’s uniform and wearing the order of Saint
George, with his majestic look and superb presence, reading Pravda to a group
of four dishevelled sailors.
(Louis de Robien, The Diary of a Diplomat in Russia 1917–1918, London 1969)
Reply of the Spanish Ambassador to the
‘Soviet Note’ of the previous day
To the People’s Commissary of Foreign Affairs:
I had the honour to receive your note, №83 … in which you inform me
regarding the proposal of the People’s Commissaries to the representatives of
Allied powers to conclude an immediate armistice and to start negotiations for
peace … I hasten to inform you, Mr Commissary, that … I will not fail
this very day to transmit to my government by telegraph the contents of the
above-mentioned note in order that my government may be able to make it known
to the Spanish people, and also to use all necessary efforts in order to assist
in the conclusion of peace which is so desired by all humanity.
(Russian-American Relations: March 1917-March 1920, New York 1920)
11 November 2017
Just returned from Russia with a turbulent stomach requiring several emergency
stops en route to the airport (not all of it vodka-related either). Apart from
that, an interesting few days. There wasn’t, by any means, a universal show of
indifference to the anniversary — several small exhibitions, a major one at the
Hermitage, the odd gathering (by the Aurora), some TV documentaries
and a new series focusing on Trotsky all added up to something. But
there was a slight sense of going through the motions, of dutifully observing
an anniversary that would be good to get out of the way. And maybe the banal
truth is, reading de Robien and others in this week’s posting, that people are
no different to how they were a hundred years ago: they have a life to live,
food to buy, family to look after. If you can do all that with governments
crumbling around you and bodies lying on the street, it’s not surprising that 7
November 2017 merits little more than a flicker of interest from the general
public.
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.
