Events move so quickly at this time, that it is hard to set them down
from memory even in chronological sequence. Neither newspapers nor
documents are at our disposal. And vet the repeated interruptions in the
Brest-Litovsk negotiations create a suspense which, under present
circumstances, is no longer bearable. I shall endeavor, therefore, to
recall the course and the landmarks of the October revolution, reserving
the right to complete and correct this exposition subsequently in the
light of documents.
What characterized our party almost from the very first period of the
revolution, was the conviction that it would ultimately come into power
through the logic of events. I do not refer to the theorists of the
party, who, many years before the revolution--even before the revolution
of 1905--as a result of their analysis of class relations in Russia,
came to the conclusion that the triumphant development of the revolution
must inevitably transfer the power to the proletariat, supported by the
vast masses of the poorest peasants. The chief basis of this prognosis
was the insignificance of the Russian bourgeois democracy and the
concentrated character of Russian industrialism--which makes of the
Russian proletariat a factor of tremendous social importance. The
insignificance of bourgeois democracy is but the complement of the power
and significance of the proletariat. It is true, the war has deceived
many on this point, and, first of all, the leading groups of bourgeois
democracy themselves. The war has assigned a decisive role in the events
of the revolution to the army. The old army meant the peasantry. Had the
revolution developed more normally--that is, under peaceful
circumstances, as it had in 1912--the proletariat would always have held
a dominant position, while the peasant masses would gradually have been
taken in tow by the proletariat and drawn into the whirlpool of the
revolution.
But the war produced an altogether different succession of events. The
army welded the peasants together, not by a political, but by a military
tie. Before the peasant masses could be drawn together by revolutionary
demands and ideas, they were already organized in regimental staffs,
divisions and army corps. The representatives of petty bourgeois
democracy, scattered through this army and playing a leading role in it,
both in a military and in a conceptual way, were almost completely
permeated with middle-class revolutionary tendencies. The deep social
discontent in the masses became more acute and was bound to manifest
itself, particularly because of the military shipwreck of Czarism. The
proletariat, as represented in its advanced ranks, began, as soon as the
revolution developed, to revive the 1905 tradition and called upon the
masses of the people to organize in the form of representative
bodies--soviets, consisting of deputies. The army was called upon to
send its representatives to the revolutionary organizations before its
political conscience caught up in any way with the rapid course of the
revolution. Whom could the soldiers send as deputies? Eventually, those
representatives of the intellectuals and semi-intellectuals who chanced
to be among them and who possessed the least bit of knowledge of
political affairs and could make this knowledge articulate. In this way,
the petty bourgeois intellectuals were at once and of necessity raised
to great prominence in the awakening army. Doctors, engineers, lawyers,
journalists and volunteers, who under pre-bellum conditions led a rather
retired life and made no claim to any importance, suddenly found
themselves representative of whole corps and armies and felt that they
were "leaders" of the revolution. The nebulousness of their political
ideology fully corresponded with the formlessness of the revolutionary
consciousness of the masses. These elements were extremely condescending
toward us "Sectarians," for we expressed the social demands of the
workers and the peasants most pointedly and uncompromisingly.
At the same time, the petty bourgeois democracy, with the arrogance of
revolutionary upstarts, harbored the deepest mistrust of itself and of
the very masses who had raised it to such unexpected heights. Calling
themselves Socialists, and considering themselves such, the
intellectuals were filled with an ill-disguised respect for the
political power of the liberal bourgeoisie, towards their knowledge and
methods. To this was due the effort of the petty bourgeois leaders to
secure, at any cost, a cooperation, union, or coalition with the liberal
bourgeoisie. The programme of the Social-Revolutionists--created wholly
out of nebulous humanitarian formulas, substituting sentimental
generalizations and moralistic superstructures for a class-conscious
attitude, proved to be the thing best adapted for a spiritual vestment
of this type of leaders. Their efforts in one way or another to prop up
their spiritual and political helplessness by the science and politics
of the bourgeoisie which so overawed them, found its theoretical
justification in the teachings of the Mensheviki, who explained that the
present revolution was a bourgeois revolution, and therefore could not
succeed without the participation of the bourgeoisie in the government.
In this way, the natural bloc of Social-Revolutionists and Mensheviki
was created, which gave simultaneous expression to the political
lukewarmness of the middle-class intellectuals and its relation of
vassal to imperialistic liberalism.
It was perfectly clear to us that the logic of the class struggle would,
sooner or later, destroy this temporary combination and cast aside the
leaders of the transition period. The hegemony of the petty bourgeois
intellectuals meant, in reality, that the peasantry, which had suddenly
been called, through the agency of the military machine, to an organized
participation in political life, had, by mere weight of numbers,
overshadowed the working class and temporarily dislodged it. More than
this: To the extent that the middle-class leaders had suddenly been
lifted to terrific heights by the mere bulk of the army, the proletariat
itself, and its advanced minority, had been discounted, and could not
but acquire a certain political respect for them and a desire to
preserve a political bond with them; it might otherwise be in danger of
losing contact with the peasantry. In the memories of the older
generation of workingmen, the lesson of 1905 was firmly fixed; then, the
proletariat was defeated just because the heavy peasant reserves did not
arrive in time for the decisive battle. This is why in this first period
of the revolution even the masses of workingmen proved so much more
receptive to the political ideology of the Social-Revolutionists and the
Mensheviki. All the more so, since the revolution had awakened the
hitherto dormant and backward proletarian masses, thus making uninformed
intellectual radicalism into a preparatory school for them.
The Soviets of Workingmen's, Soldiers' and Peasants' Deputies meant,
under these circumstances, the domination of peasant formlessness over
proletarian socialism, and the domination of intellectual radicalism
over peasant formlessness. The soviet institution rose so rapidly, and
to such prominence, largely because the intellectuals, with their
technical knowledge and bourgeois connections, played a leading part in
the work of the soviet. It was clear to us, however, that the whole
inspiring structure was based upon the deepest inner contradictions, and
that its downfall during the next phase of the revolution was quite
inevitable.
The revolution grew directly out of the war, and the war became the
great test for all parties and revolutionary forces. The intellectual
leaders were "against the war." Many of them, under the Czarist regime,
had considered themselves partisans of the left wing of the
Internationale, and subscribed to the Zimmerwald resolution. But
everything changed suddenly when they found themselves in responsible
"posts." To adhere to the policy of Revolutionary Socialism meant, under
those circumstances, to break with the bourgeoisie, their own and that
of the Allies. And we have already said that the political helplessness
of the intellectual and semi-intellectual middle class sought shelter
for itself in a union with bourgeois liberalism. This caused the pitiful
and truly shameful attitude of the middle-class leaders towards the war.
They confined themselves to sighs, phrases, secret exhortations or
appeals addressed to the Allied Governments, while they were actually
following the same path as the liberal bourgeoisie. The masses of
soldiers in the trenches could not, of course, reach the conclusion that
the war, in which they had participated for nearly three years, had
changed its character merely because certain new persons, who called
themselves "Social-Revolutionists" or "Mensheviki," were taking part in
the Petrograd Government. Milyukov displaced the bureaucrat Pokrovsky;
Tereshtchenko displaced Milyukov--which means that bureaucratic
treachery had been replaced first by militant Cadet imperialism, then by
an unprincipled, nebulous and political subserviency; but it brought no
objective changes, and indicated no way out of the terrible war.
Just in this lies the primary cause of the subsequent disorganization of
the army. The agitators told the soldiers that the Czarist Government
had sent them into slaughter without any rime or reason. But those who
replaced the Czar could not in the least change the character of the
war, just as they could not find their way clear for a peace campaign.
The first months were spent in merely marking time. This tried the
patience both of the army and of the Allied Governments, and prompted
the drive of June 18, which was demanded by the Allies, who insisted
upon the fulfillment of the old Czarist obligations. Scared by their own
helplessness and by the growing impatience of the masses, the leaders of
the middle class complied with this demand. They actually began to think
that, in order to obtain peace, it was only necessary for the Russian
army to make a drive. Such a drive seemed to offer a way out of the
difficult situation, a real solution of the problem--salvation. It is
hard to imagine a more amazing and more criminal delusion. They spoke of
the drive in those days in the same terms that were used by the
social-patriots of all countries in the first days and weeks of the war,
when speaking of the necessity of supporting the cause of national
defence, of strengthening the holy alliance of nations, etc., etc. All
their Zimmerwald internationalistic infatuations had vanished as if by
magic.
To us, who were in uncompromising opposition, it was clear that the
drive was beset with terrible danger, threatening perhaps the ruin of
the revolution itself. We sounded the warning that the army, which had
been awakened and deeply stirred by the tumultuous events which it was
still far from comprehending, could not be sent into battle without
giving it new ideas which it could recognize as its own. We warned,
accused, threatened. But as for the dominant party, tied up as it was
with the Allied bourgeoisie, there was no other course; we were
naturally threatened with enmity, with bitter hatred.