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A Russian Chronicle

The Tale of Michael L. Zlatovsky

Chapter 14

With the revolution triumphant, a provisional government was established. Professor Milyukov, historian, noted orator, and outstanding liberal, was appointed Minister of Foreign Affairs. The eloquent leftist lawyer, Kerensky, became Minister of Justice. All other posts were occupied by members of the Constitutional Democratic Party, known as “cadets.” At the same time, parallel to the provisional government, the soviets of workers, soldiers, and peasants came into being, dominated by the agrarian party known as Socialist Revolutionaries, with a minority of Social Democrats and leftists of all shades. Thus, a dual form of government--one liberal, the other radical and vociferous--was established, and the struggle between the two began.

The first act of Milyukov was to inform the Allies that Russia would continue the war until victory was achieved. He also made plain that Russia expected to acquire possession of the Dardanelles, then, as now, under the domination of Turkey, the ally of Germany. This manifesto infuriated the radicals who saw clearly that continuation of the war was impossible because the Army, whose disintegration had begun some time ago, had reached a state of near dissolution. Milyukov was forced to resign with the title of “The Dardanellion,” as he was called from then on. The Minister of War, a rich and energetic industrialist, also resigned because of the famous order “NI,” issued by the Soviet of Petrograd.

This order forbade the wearing of epaulettes and other insignia of rank by officers and dictated that they were to be addressed as comrade unless at the battlefront. Self-government was given to the soldiers and sailors, and commissars were appointed to watch the acts of the officers who were summarily termed counter-revolutionists (which in the main they were), since they were recruited from the nobility. The officers resisted the order with the result that a number of naval officers in the fortress on Kronstadt were thrown into the sea. The chief of the armed forces, General Duclonin, was bayoneted by the rebellious soldiers, and with him a number of officers of different rank also perished.

Both the provisional government and the soviets underwent transformation. Kerensky became Minister of War with the notorious Sorinkov his assistant. Other members of the provisional government were also replaced. In the soviet, the more radical elements were gaining the upper hand due to the arrival of old Bolsheviks from the lands of exile. Chief among them were Lenin and Trotsky.

Nicolai Lenin (real name: Vladimir Iliitch Ulianov), son of a government official, became an ardent revolutionary at an early age when his older brother was hanged for participation in a plot to kill Tsar Alexander III, father of the late, un-lamented Nicolas. Lenin graduated from the school of law and soon was arrested because of his revolutionary activities. His biographer tells of an incident characteristic of Lenin's will and powers of concentration:

The political prisons were a kind of school where the novices learned the theory and practice of revolution from the experienced and learned ones who held discussions, ironing out differences and developing new theories. For relaxation they played chess. In the prison where Lenin was sent, there was a champion player who could not be beaten. Lenin challenged him, and so deep was his concentration on the game that his veins stood out to the point of bursting. He beat the champion.

Immediately upon his release from prison, he went into exile, first in France and later in Switzerland, the refuge of Russian revolutionaries. Because of his great learning and iron will, he became the authoritative theoretician and leader of the Social Democrats. He also became editor-in-chief of the socialist paper, The Spark, the gospel of young revolutionaries in Russia. While the exiles around Lenin bowed to his theories, some objected to his tactics of strong revolutionary conspiracy units instead of the more generally accepted mass propaganda. He was also too autocratic. This brought about a split of the party in 1903. Two factions came into being: the Bolsheviks (majority) and Mensheviks (minority) of which Trotsky was the outstanding member.

At the outbreak of the revolution, Lenin and his coterie lived in Switzerland, and there was no way to reach Russia except through Germany. It was finally fixed through a Swiss socialist intermediary that Germany would allow them to pass with the proviso that they be kept incommunicado in passing; hence the legend of the sealed car and the accusation of being a German spy. The truth is that Germany, knowing his anti-war sentiments, believed that his propaganda would deepen the disintegration of Russian forces.

Lenin's entry into Petrograd was triumphant. Hundreds of thousands marched through the streets carrying his portrait along with red flags. Members of the soviet carried him on their shoulders and put him on a platform from which he made his “maiden” speech. In it he attacked the provisional government most forcefully, declaring that all power should be given to the soviets. His slogans were, “Immediate cessation of hostilities,” and “War to the palaces; peace to the huts.” He also declared that the party should take the name of Communist from now on.

Later, Trotsky (real name, Leo Bronstein) came from America via Halifax. There he was detained by the British and released only upon the insistence of the provisional government whose gravedigger he was to become. In contrast to the ponderous, assiduous Lenin, he was volatile--dashing from one European country to another, charming people with his wit and sarcasm while spreading the gospel of revolution. Instead of writing serious books, he chose the pamphlet as the means of propaganda, which brought him the title of “king of the pamphleteers.” However, his main strength was in his unequaled talent as an orator that could bring an audience to a frenzy of enthusiasm.

The arrival of the immigrant galaxy of star revolutionaries resulted in immediate changes in the Petrograd Soviet: the moderate elements were pressed out and the radicals took their places. The Soviet became fiercely antagonistic to the Provisional and called for open rebellion.

Meanwhile, the doomed administration, under the pressure of the Allies, declared a general mobilization, and along with all doctors under 45, I was called into service. I was assigned to a hospital situated in a former summer residence of the royal family. It had been the favorite resort of Mad Paul, son of Catherine the Great. In one of the rooms there was a dummy made in the image of the Tsar with one of his boots on the leg, the other--stained with blood--near the bed, a position in which the Tsar was caught and assassinated by the court plotters with the tacit consent of his son, Alexander I. (This later became a play in America called, “The Patriot.” Watching it, I marveled at the realistic reproduction of the palace, the surroundings, and the very room where the Tsar was killed. However, the historical facts were distorted: Paul was not the only mad Tsar, and his assassination was not an isolated instance. As a matter of fact, his own father, Peter III, was imprisoned by his wife, Catherine, and killed in prison by the Orlov brothers who were the lovers of the “enlightened” Tsarina along with a legion of others.)

The work in the hospital was light, and I kept my office in the city. I was commuting from a considerable distance, and with the slow, irregular, overcrowded trains, it was a real ordeal. Added to it was the worry about the safety of my family and lack of adequate food. My health became undermined. I developed a persistent cough, lost weight, and was feverish at times. It looked suspiciously like tuberculosis. [Indeed, later in the United States, an X-ray revealed an old scar on one lung, indicative of an initial tuberculous lesion.] I was re-examined, excused from military service, and advised to go for a rest to the Crimea, the Russian Florida. I was reluctant to leave my family in such turbulent times, but I was overruled by my unselfish wife, always ready for sacrifice, who justly pointed out that a sick man is worse than no man. I gave in and went with misgivings and fear.

The Crimea is a peninsula on the Black Sea. Here is situated the town of Yalta, a name most familiar in this country, and the naval base of Sevastopol which later resisted for more than a year the fierce onslaught of the best Nazi forces. The central part of the Crimea consists of steppes or prairies where the nomad tartars move along with their sheep. The southern part has a warm, even climate and abounds in beautiful mountain scenery. The valleys are luxuriant with vineyards, olive groves, and orange trees.

And to a resort in this part of Crimea I went. I spent there 30 unforgettable days away from the hungry city with its noise, strikes, demonstrations, and political squabbles. Peace and quiet reigned here. There could be found men and women of different political views, but by tacit agreement, matters of political nature were never discussed. We did not even read the papers. We were content to lie naked on the warm sand for hours looking at the blue water of the sea, which, for some inexplicable reason, is called Black. It was fascinating to watch the diving, playing dolphins and to walk at ebb tide in the receding water collecting shells and multicolored stones. We were letting strength seep into our emaciated bodies and trying to forget the ominous present and the menacing future.

A group of us took two trips. One, suggested by a retired naval captain, was to the nearby naval base of Theodosia. The commander of the port was an old friend of his, and we had a warm reception. We were taken for a short ride in a big sailboat and were shown the submerging and surfacing of a submarine. In parting, we all had a few drinks, and everything looked rosy for a while.

A more memorable trip was a ride over the mountains encircling the sea. The view from the mountaintop was beautiful beyond description, but the ride was not without danger. The road--or rather the path--was narrow and winding, and at times the carriage was so close to the edge that it looked like we were going to plunge into the sea from some thousands of feet. We heard stories of this kind, and when we asked the driver if they were true, he said, “It is God's will. My brother plunged, and his hat was never recovered.” However, nothing daunted, he brandished the whip, hollering, “Hey, you eagles, step lively!” without slowing the pace of the horses. It was a wonderful ride, but we did not care to try it again.

Shortly before I left the resort, a new visitor arrived named Belov. He was a professor of mineralogy at the technicum of Kiev and was sent by some company to explore the mineral deposits of the Crimean mountains and their possible utilization. He was to bring discord among us by persistently denouncing the Bolsheviks, calling Lenin a German spy and Trotsky a foreign agitator (the word foreign being substituted for Jew as a concession to the Jews present.) Some who held other views became irritated; others who shared the same views became vociferous. Heated disputes and denunciations ensued, and harmony and good will ceased to exist. During the civil war, I found in the papers the names of 18 traitors executed in Kiev. Among them was Belov, professor of mineralogy. It served him right.

I returned to Petrograd at the end of May 1917, refreshed and in perfect health. I found the city more in turmoil than ever. It was the season of “white nights,” and the weather was balmy. Because of this, the streets were full day and night, with crowds disputing, arguing, agitating, and clashing with each other. In the Village, populated mostly by workers, the Bolsheviks had the upper hand. In the central parts, the adherents of the Provisional government prevailed. Day after day, Lenin harangued the crowds from the balcony of the Kshesinskaya palace, the headquarters of the Bolsheviks, denouncing the Provisional government as traitors and calling for civil disobedience.

Lenin, who was most effective in small groups of intellectuals, was not too successful as an agitator. The palm of agitation fell to Trotsky. His speeches were inflammatory, full of sarcasm, ridicule, and annihilating epithets toward the adversaries. I remember vividly one speech delivered in a big hall ordinarily accommodating some 2,000 people. It was so crowded beyond capacity that the speaker had to be carried to the rostrum over the shoulders of the listeners. Referring to the president of the Soviet, a Menshevik, he said, “This man calls himself a Red. He is not a Red but a radish--red on the outside and white inside.” He went on to denounce him and his followers in polished sarcastic phrases which made the crowd roar with laughter and exclamations of approbation.

It was shortly after this memorable speech that the Menshevik Soviet president was ousted and replaced by a Social Revolutionary named Gath, a former conspirator and daring terrorist who had the distinction of being chained to the walls of Peter and Paul fortress for years and who was crippled by repeated beatings. He was too weak physically to hold this post, and Trotsky became president of the Soviet. As the Soviet became stronger, the weakness of the Provisional government became more apparent. The changes of personalities became kaleidoscopic. Some were “thrown to the lions”; others were sacrificed for the sake of the meek sheep, the Conservatives. The Soviet was also in a state of flux; and the hero of today became the traitor of tomorrow. The very parties became divided into leftists, rightists, and centralists. And what was going on in Petrograd was true of other cities, big and small.

The rural districts were in a state of revolt with peasants “smoking out” the landlords, killing the recalcitrant, looting and burning their homes, taking possession of the land, and--often as not--fighting among themselves in dividing the land and the loot. The monetary system, with no basis of valuation and no taxes paid, became impaired. The Provisional government took to the press and flooded the country with paper money. The lowest denominations were the so-called “kerenkies” of 20 and 40 rubles printed on poor paper the size of an eight-cent stamp in this country. The peasants refused to accept this money and withheld their produce from the market. Transportation was hampered by strikes and lack of railroad equipment. As a result, the cities went hungry.

Discipline in the Army was lax to the point of disobedience. Under such conditions, it was sheer madness to try an offensive. Led by Kerensky with the aim of taking possession of the important city of Tarnapol, the gate to the Carpathian Mountains, the offensive had some initial success, but subsequently turned into a rout, resulting in great loss of men and armaments. The Army suffered a blow from which it never recovered.

Chapter 15