Inside the Russian Revolution by Rheta Childe Dorr - HTML preview

CHAPTER XXV

WHAT NEXT?

Man must hope. He must believe that his fight is a winning fight or he must give up in despair. That is why the Americans place credence in every despatch from Russia which seems to indicate that the disorganized fighting forces are being whipped into form again. That is why any hint that Kerensky had not succeeded in restoring order in the empire was for some time received with incredulity by the reading public. But why refuse to face the facts? We must face them some time.

In late September I read in one of the newspapers a headline which stated that the so-called democratic congress then in session in Petrograd had voted to sustain Kerensky’s demand for a coalition ministry. The headlines were wrong. What the dispatch really stated was that the congress had voted not to form any coalition with the bourgeois element, or with members of the Constitutional Democratic party. That is, the congress would not support a ministry that had any non-socialist members in it. “All the power to the Soviets” was retired as too conservative a slogan. It was “all the power to the Bolsheviki” then, for that is precisely what the vote in that so-called Democratic Congress meant.

Since June, 1917, no fewer than six congresses or conventions have been held in Russia with the object of finding a way out of the chaos with which the country is threatened. Every one of them was hailed beforehand as the one which was going to be a revelation of the intentions and desires of the people. The most important of these was the all-Russia congress of Soviets held last July, and before that the preliminary convention to prepare for the constituent assembly. The one was to decide once and for all whether or not the moderate or the extreme element in the Soviets was to rule, and the other was to quiet both elements by showing that the government intended to prepare a liberal and a democratic constitution for them to debate, amend and adopt when the time came. Lastly, there was the great Moscow congress of last August. I don’t remember what the stated object of that congress was, but it does not matter much. The real object was to find out which was the stronger man, Kerensky or Korniloff. Kerensky won by a narrow margin, a very narrow margin. And then they held another convention, and Kerensky lost.

What will happen next in that distracted country? Into what new morass are the people being led? Frankly, I do not know. I do not know anybody who does. The only analogous situation in modern history is that of the Poland of the eighteenth century. Poland had a government quite as bad as that of the Russian Soviets, or Council of Workmen’s and Soldiers’ Delegates. Instead of being an all-socialist affair Poland’s parliament was made up entirely of noblemen. These men were so proud, so “free” in the New Russia sense of the word that they wouldn’t yield on any question even to a majority vote. A single dissenting voice in their parliament was enough to kill any measure. The people of Poland had no more to say about government than the middle class and the rich have in the Russia of to-day. And when a European war on a limited scale broke out, and Frederick the Great started the era of frightfulness which William the last thought he could bring to a triumphant conclusion, the three great eastern powers of Europe—Russia, Prussia and Austria—sliced up Poland and handed each of the three monarchs a piece. Maria Theresa, who ruled the Austria of that day, wanted it printed in the records that she wept when she took her piece, but she took it just the same, and Poland has wept ever since.

This could happen to Russia. She could be dismembered and handed around. But this is not likely to happen. The Allies would never be so foolish or so cruel as to permit it to happen. Russia could fall apart and become an aggregation of small separate states, but each one of those would still have its Soviets, and consequently a government without stability or permanence. Finland and the Ukraine are two Russian states which are trying to bring about this end, and they may succeed, but a dissected Russia would furnish such good material for future wars that the Allies can hardly afford to consent to it.

Civil war is a fine possibility in Russia just now, except that there seems to be no one at hand to organize the two forces. The strongest probability is more guerilla warfare, more street fighting, more motor trucks loaded with machine guns rushing up and down Petrograd, more battle, murder and sudden death, and then the reaction. Just what form the reaction will take nobody knows. But the mad Bolsheviki know that it is coming, and though they almost court it they also fear it. They call this inevitable reaction the counter revolution, and they excuse all their vagaries, their obstinacy, their pig-headed resistance to a coalition with non-socialists on the ground that they are fighting the counter revolution. I have heard Americans in Russia, college professors, business men, correspondents, even members of American commissions, say: “Don’t blame these people too much for their radicalism. They are afraid they will lose all they gained by the revolution. They fear the return of autocracy.”

I can say with all confidence that whatever may happen in Russia, there is not even the remotest chance of any counter revolution, in the sense meant by the extremists, nor is there the slightest risk of a return of autocracy. The autocracy collapsed like a house of cards, and the real surprise there was in it for the Duma members who deposed Nicholas was that the thing was so easy. I can imagine Miliukov, Rodzianko and the others getting together afterward and saying: “Why on earth didn’t we do this in August, 1914?”

Nobody wants the Czar back unless it is the Romanoff family, and doubtless each one of the grand dukes believes that if any one came back it ought to be himself. The only possibility of a return of monarchy in Russia would result from desperation on the part of the men who will finally restore order there. The situation may be so bad, when the time comes to do that, that they may decide on a limited constitutional monarchy as the best form of government for people who are not yet ready for self-government. A figurehead king, something visible to the people and symbolizing government, but a king with responsible ministers who really rule, is a possibility for Russia. The inevitable reaction, especially if it is long postponed, may take that form. I have heard many Russians say so. Some said it with sorrow, some with satisfaction, but there are plenty of educated and liberal-minded people in Russia who would welcome it. If it comes, I predict that the capital of Russia will be moved back to Moscow. The constitutional monarch, if they have one, may be that brother of the late Czar who is known in Russia as Michael Alexandrovitch, who as one of the ablest and most enlightened of the Romanoff family. He is the man who was chosen by the first provisional government to succeed the Czar when the latter was deposed, and the governments which have followed have all treated him with rather especial consideration. Last June he asked permission to leave turbulent Petrograd and spend the summer in his villa on one of the Finnish lakes. This permission was granted, and Michael has lived in Finland in comparative peace and comfort ever since. The government has not treated any other Romanoff as well.

Most of the grand dukes and grand duchesses are virtually prisoners on their estates. The Empress Dowager is confined to her estate in the Crimea, and the government would not even allow her to leave it to bid her exiled son good-by. But Michael Alexandrovitch must have convinced the government that he is trustworthy, and he seems to be regarded as a man who could be brought out of his shadowy background and set up for the people to call a king, if the worst comes to the worst and they have to have a king. This is the most severe form the reaction could permanently take in Russia, as far as I can judge. Of course a military dictatorship may precede this, but the dictatorship would be a temporary thing, a war measure to crush the Bolsheviki and bring order out of chaos. Nobody in Russia, as far as I know and believe, wants a counter revolution in the sense suggested by the Bolsheviki. But the counter revolution, as a bogie to be held over the heads of the timid dreamers and of those half-hearted ones who shrink from bloodshed, is so useful that the Bolshevik leaders worked it hard all summer and in the latest developments they were still at it.

The experience of the French people after their revolution is often cited by the timorous in Russia. It is true that the Bourbons came back, but the people of France did not call them back. They were put back by the allied monarchs of Europe, aghast at the spread of republicanism in the eastern hemisphere. Following the revolution and the two score years of Napoleonic wars, these rulers got together, signed a secret agreement that the peace of Europe depended on France remaining a monarchy, and in 1814 they put Louis XVIII on the throne. By virtue of giving the French a liberal constitution he kept the throne until his death, ten years later. The allied monarchs saw to it that his brother, Charles X, succeeded him, but the allies could not prevent the French from turning him out of the country within six years. Nor could they stay the revolution of 1848 which banished Louis Philippe, the last Bourbon.

Times have changed since the French revolution. Kings have lost most of their power and almost all of their popularity. They cannot get together and, under the direction of a Metternich, agree that the peace of Europe demands that Russia remain an autocracy. They could not do this even if the old combination, Russia, Prussia, Austria, England and France, had not been violently disrupted. No country in Europe is interested in restoring the Romanoff dynasty, unless it be the country of the Hohenzollerns, and that country is not going to have much to say about the world’s business for the next few years.

There may be no counter-revolution in Russia, but there will ultimately be a return to sanity and order. There will be a constitutional convention, not too soon, it is to be hoped, and in that convention the voice of the leaders of the moderate parties will be heard. Trotsky may be a delegate, but so will Prof. Paul Miliukoff, the leader of the Constitutional Democrats, or Cadets, as they are colloquially known. All through the riot and turmoil of the summer Prof. Miliukoff and his colleagues worked steadily to keep the party alive, to keep it constantly in the foreground as the liberal-conservative force which might at least share in shaping the new constitution.

There are plenty of wise, sane statesmen, plenty of good citizens in Russia. They are not very conspicuous just now, and for good reason. A fine old French abbé who was asked what he did during the Reign of Terror, replied simply, “I lived.” Avoiding assassination is a career in itself just now in Russia. Many of the wealthy classes and the estate owners spent the summer in Finland. Some went to England or the United States. The peasants in many parts of the empire, falling in joyfully with the Kerensky plan of dividing up the land, began the process by sacking and burning the homes of the estate owners, destroying their fields, orchards and vineyards, and cutting and burning their forests. These acts, in conjunction with riots and excesses in the towns have encouraged the intellectual classes to leave the country and to take no part in politics.

Despite everything that has happened, despite these excesses, there is no question that the Russian people in revolt have contributed greatly to the world’s democracy. They will make still greater contributions, I believe. They have a long road to travel before they establish their new civilization. The Russians are not as developed as the English, the French or the Americans. In some respects they are no further developed than the English of the reign of Henry the Eighth. They ride in street cars, but the street cars were made in Germany. They use the telephone, and go up stairs in a lift, but the telephone and the lift came from Sweden. They have only recently learned to use modern tools with skill or to farm scientifically. But they are learning very fast. They are learning to coöperate in their farming faster than almost any other people in Europe, which to my mind is the most hopeful sign of all.

For I am just as much of a socialist as when I went to Russia in May, 1917, and just as little of an anarchist. I believe that the next economic development will be socialism, that is coöperation, common ownership of the principal means of production, and the administration of all departments of government for the collective good of all the people. I believe that the world is for the many, not the few. But Russia has demonstrated that there is no advantage to be gained by taking all power out of the hands of one class and placing it in the hands of another. Too much power rests now in the hands of a small class. But that class never abused its power more ruthlessly than the Russian Tavarishi did in the 1917 revolution.

The lesson of Russia to America is patient, intelligent, clear-sighted preparation for the next economic development. Beginning with the youngest children, we must contrive for all children a system of education which will create in the coming generation a thinking working class, one which will accept responsibility as well as demand power, and into whose hands we can safely confide authority and destiny.

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