In _all_ our revolutions, however, the legal government finds opposed

to it, once the first steps in actual revolution have been taken, not

merely hostile individuals and parties--this any government finds--but

a rival government, better organized, better staffed, better obeyed.

This rival government is of course illegal, but not all of its leaders

and followers are from the beginning consciously aiming to supplant

the legal government. Very often they think of themselves as merely

supplementing it, perhaps also as preserving it in a revolutionary

course. Yet a rival government they are, and no mere critics or

opponents. At a given revolutionary crisis they step naturally and

easily into the place of the defeated government.

This process does indeed work itself out in the old regimes before the

first steps in revolution are taken. Puritans in England, Whigs in

America, Third Estate in France, the Kadets and compromisist Socialists

in Russia, all had organizations that demanded their allegiance and

that enabled them to fight the old regime with revolution at least

in the back of their minds. But the process is much more clear, more

sharply edged--except perhaps in America--at the stage we have now

reached.

Once the first stage in revolution is over, the struggle that arises

between moderates and extremists comes to be a struggle between

two rival governmental machines. That of the moderates, the legal

government, bar inherited some of the prestige that goes with being

established, some of the financial resources--actual or potential--of

the old government, most of its liabilities, all of its institutions.

Try to alter these latter as it may, it finds them annoyingly

persistent, extremely difficult to blot out. The legal government is

unpopular with many just because it is an obvious and responsible

government, because it has to shoulder some of the unpopularity of the

government of the old regime.

The illegal government of the extremists, however, has to face no

such difficulties. It has the prestige which recent events have given

to attackers, to those who can claim to be in the forefront of the

revolution. It has, as governments go, relatively few responsibilities.

It does not have to try to use, if only temporarily, the worn-out

machinery, the institutions of the old regime. It has, on the

contrary, for the moment the great advantage of using the efficient

machinery gradually constructed by the revolutionists, both moderates

and extremists, from the time when they began under the old regime

to emerge as a pressure group. Indeed, the final capture of this

machinery--or this organization, if you prefer--seems to be what really

determines the final victory of the extremists over the moderates, long

before that final victory is apparent in events. Why the moderates do

not keep control of the organization they have done so much to initiate

and to mold is a question that permits of no simple answer. We may hope

that some answer will emerge from a more detailed study of the fate

of the moderates. We must first, however, see how well the foregoing

analysis fits the facts in our four revolutions.

Charles and the Long Parliament were clearly dual sovereigns from the

actual outbreak of hostilities in 1642 if not from the very first

session of 1640. Once the Civil War was decided against Charles,

Parliament, under the control of the moderates, found itself the legal

government. But almost immediately it was confronted by the radical New

Model Army, which very soon began to take the kind of action that in

this world only a government can take. The fact that Charles was still

on the scene and the existence of the Scotch Army complicated the

situation in the three or four years before the execution of Charles

in 1649, but the broad lines of the duel between the newly legal

government of the Presbyterian moderates in Parliament and the illegal

government of the extremist Independents in the New Model Army are

clear.

In America this dual sovereignty is most obvious in the years before

the final break in 1776. The lines between the legal and the illegal

government were obscured, especially in a colony like Massachusetts,

by the fact that town meetings and colonial legislatures were part of

the legal government, but were often controlled by men active in the

illegal government. None the less, the machinery which culminated in

the continental congresses--in themselves illegal bodies--was clearly

used by revolutionists against constituted authority.

While the moderates in France, the Feuillants, or constitutional

monarchists, still controlled the legislative body and the formal

machinery of the centralized state, their increasingly republican

opponents controlled the network of Jacobin societies which made up

the frame of the other, or illegal, government. Through their control

of these societies they worked into the control of many of the units

of local government, and from this position of vantage were able to

expel the Feuillant moderates and destroy the monarchy. The process was

then repeated with the Girondin moderates controlling the legislative

body and the Montagnard extremists controlling the important units

of the Jacobin network and at least one exceedingly important local

governmental unit--the Paris Commune. In the crisis of June 2, 1793,

the illegal government again won out over the legal.

In Russia the _dvoevlastie_ is plain. The provisional government which

emerged from the February revolution had through its connection with

the Duma some claim to legitimacy. Though it absorbed more and more

Socialists of various stripes in the next six months, thus exhibiting

the leftward movement we have found in all our societies, it remained

moderate and quite conscious of its legality. On the other side the

Bolsheviks and a few allied radical groups had by late summer obtained

control of the network of soviets and stood as an illegal government

facing the legal one. Soviet means no more than “council” and had

originally in Russia no more connotations than its English equivalent

has for us. The soviets were local councils of trade-unionists,

soldiers, sailors, peasants, and suitable intellectuals. They sprang

up naturally enough with the dissolution of the Czarist power in 1917,

all the more since memories of the abortive revolution of 1905, which

had also made use of the soviet form, were fresh in the minds of

everyone. The Bolsheviks, wisely concentrating on the soviets while the

attention of the compromisists was increasingly taken by participation

in the legal government, were able to wrest control of key soviets in

Petrograd, Moscow, and major industrial towns from the compromisists.

There is here a curious detailed parallel with the French revolution.

The final insurrectionary victory of the Bolsheviks was achieved

without complete control of the general network of soviets, just as

that of the Montagnards was achieved without control of the whole

network of Jacobin clubs. In each case control of the most important

units of the illegal government was sufficient.

_IV. Weaknesses of the Moderates_

At this stage in revolution, then, the moderates in control of the

formal machinery of government are confronted by the extremists in

control of machinery devised for propaganda, pressure-group work, even

insurrection, but now increasingly used as machinery of government.

This stage ends with the triumph of the extremists and the merging of

the dual sovereignty into a single one. We must now inquire into the

reasons for the failure of the moderates in these revolutions to hold

power.

There is first the paradox we have previously noted, that in the early

stages of revolution the control of the machinery of government is in

itself a source of weakness for those who hold such control. Little by

little the moderates find themselves losing the credit they had gained

as opponents of the old regime, and taking on more and more of the

discredit innocently associated by the hopeful many with the status

of heir to the old regime. Forced on the defensive, they make mistake

after mistake, partly because they are so little used to being on the

defensive. They are in a position from which only a superhuman wisdom

could extricate them; and the moderates are among the most human of

revolutionaries.

Faced with the opposition of more radical groups organized in the

network we have called the illegal government, the moderates have

broadly but three choices: they may try to suppress the illegal

government; they may try to get control of it themselves; or they may

let it alone. Actually their policy shifts around among these three

policies, combining one with another; in these circumstances, the net

effect is to produce a fourth policy, which amounts to a positive

encouragement of their enemies in the illegal government.

In the revolutions we are studying the moderates are particularly

handicapped in their efforts to suppress these enemy organizations. The

revolutions were all made in the name of freedom, were all associated

with what the Marxists call a bourgeois individualistic ideology. The

moderates found themselves obliged to observe certain “rights” of

their enemies--notably those of freedom of speech, of the press, of

assembly. What is more, many if not most of the moderates sincerely

believed in such rights, held that truth is great and will prevail.

Had it not just prevailed against the tyranny of the old regime?

Even when under pressure the moderate begins to try to suppress an

extremist newspaper, forbid an extremist meeting, jail a few extremist

leaders, his conscience troubles him. More important, any unsuppressed

extremists raise a mighty howl. The moderates are betraying the

revolution; they are using exactly the same methods the villainous

tyrants of the old regime had used.

The Russian revolution is here an excellent example. The Kadets and

compromisists between February and October could not conveniently

suppress Bolshevik propaganda, nor indeed any form of Bolshevik

political activity. When they tried to do so after a premature

Bolshevik rising, the street troubles in Petrograd known as the “July

Days,” they were met by protests from all sorts of people, including

notably the Bolsheviks. This was despotism, this was Czarism of the

worst sort. Had not the February revolution brought political freedom,

freedom of the press and association, to Russia forever? Kerensky

mustn’t make use of the kind of weapons the Czars had used. In 1938

Stalin of course can use methods worthy of Peter the Great or Ivan the

Terrible, but that is only to say that the Russian revolution is over.

In 1917, however, even had Kerensky been the sort of man who could

successfully organize repressive measures--and he plainly was not that

sort of man--what we are bound to call public opinion would not in

those days have permitted the execution of such measures. Much the same

situation is to be found in France, where the Jacobins were permitted

free speech and free association, and firmly and publicly insisted on

their rights as free men to get ready for a dictatorship.

Nor are the moderates more successful in their attempts to get--or

rather to retain--control of the machinery which they and the

extremists had jointly built up as a means of overthrowing the old

regime. For this there seems to be no single preponderant reason.

The moderates are, of course, occupied with a good deal of the work

of actual governing, and they have less time for army committees or

Jacobin clubs or soviet meetings. They feel themselves perhaps a trifle

superior to such activity. They are temperamentally unfitted for the

rougher and dirtier work of the politics of direct action. They have

moral scruples. They are not quite the noble souls historical legend

makes out the Girondin moderates in the French revolution to have been;

indeed many of them, like Brissot and Kerensky, have a good many of the

gifts of the political manipulator. But they are in power, and they

seem to set about quite naturally cultivating the sober virtues that

go with power. Such virtues, however, make them inadequate leaders of

militant revolutionary societies.

Whatever the explanation, the fact of the uniformity is clear. This

particular failure of the moderates is well shown in the French

revolution. The Jacobin network of societies of “Friends of the

Constitution” was in its inception hardly to the Left of Lafayette and

his friends. When, however, it began to move further to the Left the

Fayettists made a few feeble efforts to retain control, and then went

off and founded their own society, the Feuillants. The Feuillants,

however, could not spread beyond narrow upper-class and intellectual

Parisian circles. Later groups founded here and there throughout the

country as “Friends of the Monarchy,” or “Friends of Peace,” tried to

compete with the Jacobins, but with very little luck. If they gave

bread to the poor, the Jacobins cried out that they were attempting

bribery. If they did nothing, the Jacobins complained that they lacked

social conscience. Finally the Jacobins worked out a fairly systematic

procedure. They would hire a few hoodlums--sometimes it was not

necessary to hire them--to break up a meeting of the rival Friends of

Peace, and would then send a deputation to the municipal authorities

asking that the Friends of Peace be closed as a public nuisance. The

authorities were either Jacobins themselves, or more afraid of the

Jacobins than of the Friends of Peace, so that the matter received a

suitable revolutionary solution.

Similarly the Presbyterians found themselves powerless to control the

spread of Independency, not only in the army, but in local parishes.

And in Russia the compromisists found the Bolsheviks formidable in

all the important soviets. A detailed study of the Petrograd soviet

from February to October will show how cleverly the party of Lenin

took advantage of every mistake of its opponents, how successfully it

burrowed from within, spreading its control from factory soviets on

up until finally the city soviet was captured. Such a study will also

show the compromisists gradually losing ground, in spite of the great

oratorical gifts of leaders like Tseretelli, Chkheidze and Kerensky.

There is, indeed, an almost organic weakness in the position of the

moderates. They are placed between two groups, the disgruntled but not

yet silenced conservatives and the confident, aggressive extremists.

There are still freedom of speech and the other political rights, so

that even conservatives have a voice. Now the moderates seem in all

these revolutions to be following the slogan used so conspicuously

for French politics of the _Cartel des Gauches_ in 1924: no enemies

to the Left. They still distrust the conservatives, against whom they

have so recently risen; and they are reluctant to admit that the

extremists, with whom they so recently stood united, can actually be

their enemies. All the force of the ideas and sentiments with which the

moderates entered the revolution give them a sort of twist toward the

Left. Emotionally they cannot bear to think of themselves as falling

behind in the revolutionary process. Moreover, many of them hope to

outbid the extremists for popular support, to beat them at their

own game. But only in normal times can you trust in the nice smooth

clichés of politics like “beat them at their own game.” The moderates

fail by this policy of “no enemies to the Left” to reconcile these

enemies to the Left; and they make it quite impossible to rally to

their support any of the not yet quite negligible conservatives. Then,

after the moderates get thoroughly frightened about the threatening

attitude of the extremists, they turn for help to the conservatives,

and find there just aren’t any. They have emigrated, or retired to

the country, hopeless and martyred in spirit. Needless to say, a

martyred conservative is no longer a conservative, but only another

maladjusted soul. This last turn of theirs towards the conservatives,

however, finishes the moderates. Alone, unsupported in control of a

government as yet by no means in assured and habitual control of a

personnel, civil or military, they succumb easily to insurrection. It

is significant that Pride’s Purge, the French crisis of June 2, 1793,

and the Petrograd October revolution were all hardly more than _coups

d’état_.

In the English, French, and Russian revolutions it is possible to

distinguish one critical measure around which all these currents

converge, a measure which, espoused by the moderates, cuts them off

from support on the Right and leaves the radicals in a position to use

this very measure against its authors. Such are the Root-and-Branch

Bill in the English, the Civil Constitution of the Clergy in the

French, and Order Number One in the Russian, revolutions.

The Root-and-Branch Bill originated in a petition with 15,000

signatures presented to the House of Commons late in 1640, asking

for the abolition of Episcopacy “with all its roots and branches.”

Naturally the moderate Episcopalians, from Hyde and Falkland to Digby,

were against a measure which destroyed their Church; and just as

naturally the Presbyterians were inclined to favor it. It is possible

that politically minded moderates like Pym might have left the bill

alone, but the refusal of the bishops to give up their seats in the

House of Lords seems to have determined Pym to support the bill. This

espousal made almost every Episcopalian a Royalist, and when the Civil

War broke out in 1642 the Presbyterians were stranded on the extreme

Right of the party groupings within the region controlled by the

Parliamentarians. They could find no possible allies except to the

Left. The Independents--and Cromwell had first actually introduced the

Root-and-Branch Bill to the House--could now argue that presbyters were

no better than bishops, that the reasons which held for the abolition

of one held incontrovertibly for the abolition of the other. Later,

when the moderates proved incapable of carrying the war to a successful

conclusion, measures like the Self-Denying Ordinance and the creation

of the New Model Army had to be accepted by a Presbyterian majority

which yet was not by any means a commanding majority, and which had

left itself with no possibility of conservative support.

The Civil Constitution of the Clergy emerged after months of discussion

in the National Assembly as a charter for renewed Christianity in

France. The moderates who put it through seem mostly to have been

sincere men, bad Catholics in some ways, perhaps, but rather because

they had absorbed some of the practical worldly spirit of the age than

because they were outright anti-clericals. Yet their measure alienated

the good Catholics and merely encouraged the violent anti-clericals to

try to root out the “vile superstitions” of Christianity altogether.

The Civil Constitution in all innocence provided for the election

of parish priests by the same local electoral bodies that chose lay

officials for the new government positions, and for the election of

bishops by the same departmental body that elected representatives to

the Legislative Assembly. It scrapped all the historic dioceses of old

France, and substituted nice, nearly uniform dioceses identical with

the new _départements_ into which France was governmentally divided. It

did consent to “notify” the Pope of such elections.

Since the property of the Church as a corporation had been taken over

to serve as security for the new paper money of the revolution, the

_assignats_, the State was to support the expenses of the clergy under

the new constitution. The election of priests and bishops by bodies

to which Protestants, Jews, and avowed atheists were eligible was so

completely uncanonical that no Pope could for a moment have considered

accepting it. Although there was the usual diplomatic delay, the break

between the Pope and the revolutionary government was inevitable, and

with it the powerful and conservative group of Catholics was forced

irreconcilably into opposition. A schism began which extended to every

village in the land. But the new Constitutional Church was hardly more

acceptable to the real radicals than the old Orthodox Church, and

as the critical days of the Terror drew nearer the moderates found

themselves saddled with the protection of a church which returned them

no important support.

Order Number One emerged from no such long debate as did the

Root-and-Branch Bill and the Civil Constitution of the Clergy. Indeed,

it is not quite fair to list it as a definite measure sponsored

by the moderates, though the soviet leader most prominent in the

group which prepared it was the moderate N. D. Sokolov, and the

compromisists energetically promulgated it. The Order emerged in the

very last days of the February revolution from the headquarters of

the Petrograd soviet. It was addressed to the army, and in addition

to the usual revolutionary measures towards a standing army of the

old regime--abolition of salutes, social and political equality of

privates with officers, and so on--it provided for elected company

and battalion committees which were to have entire charge of arms,

above all of those of officers; and it ordered that every military

unit obey the soviets in political matters. The military committee of

the Duma might be obeyed in military matters, provided the soviet did

not object in a specific case. The Order was devised primarily with

the Petrograd garrison in mind, but its main provisions were rapidly

taken up at the front. This order at once convinced the conservatives

that there was nothing to be hoped for from the revolution, and put

even the more liberal officers in a state of mind to welcome later

attempts at a conservative _coup d’état_. It made the subsequent task

of the moderates in bringing Russia back to military efficiency for

the war on Germany more difficult than ever. And it by no means served

to reconcile the soldiers themselves with the continuation of the war.

Most of the popularity of Order Number One eventually redounded to

the credit of the Bolsheviks; most of its unpopularity came back on

the compromisists. This is the typical fate of the moderates in these

revolutions.

Again, the moderates are in all our societies confronted sooner or

later with the task of fighting a war; and they prove poor war leaders.

In England the fighting broke out in 1642, and before the first

Civil War was over Cromwell and the Independents had made themselves

indispensable, and were on the threshold of power. Foreign war in

France broke out in the spring of 1792, and a few months later the

monarchy had fallen; the war went very badly in the spring of 1793, and

in June the moderate Girondins, who had on the French side been the

most eager for war, were turned out by the Montagnards. The Russian

revolution was born in the midst of a disastrous war, and the Russian

moderates never had a chance at peaceful administration. The fact is

clear. The moderates cannot seem to succeed in war. The reasons why are

less clear. No doubt the commitment of the moderates to protect the

liberties of the individual is a factor. You cannot organize an army if

you take Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity at all seriously.

The anatomy of revolution · 第 12 / 24 段