CHAPTER VIII

THE “INTELLIGENZIA”

_January 6th._

I arrived at St. Petersburg this morning. I have been trying to

formulate my reactionary feelings. I will put them on paper; although I

know I shall only have to spend a very short time with real

reactionaries to be driven straight back into the opposite camp. But

lately at Moscow I have had a heavy dose of anti-governmental

unfairness. Too heavy for the present, although perhaps I shall one day

in the future think that it was not unfair at all.

I asked a man the other day, who is employed in the “Zemstva,” what

party he belonged to. “I belong to the party of common sense,” he

answered; “unfortunately it does not exist.” This exactly sums up, I

think, the impression that any impartial observer must necessarily

derive from the present situation in Russia. Common sense has gone.

Hysteria and undisciplined rant have taken its place.

First, the revolutionaries. There are two kinds of revolutionaries: the

active, who throw bombs at policemen and soldiers, who are ready to dare

anything and sacrifice themselves; and the passive revolutionaries who

sit at home and sympathise and talk a great deal. What is their point of

view?

1. They consider that all classes who are not definitely enrolled under

their flag are violent reactionaries and are fit to be classed with the

“Black Hundred.” The Duma that is to be, they say, will be a “Black

Hundred” Duma; the present Government is purely and simply a reactionary

Government composed of bureaucrats, and no good can come to Russia until

the ulcer is pierced to the core, and all bureaucrats, together with the

Emperor and all his family, and all his Court, are removed. The

objection that the present Government is merely temporary until the Duma

assembles, they meet with the counterargument that the Government, with

the franchise law as it is, is capable of influencing the elections to

any extent, and that the result will be a reactionary Duma.

2. The second question is—What do they want? They say they want a

Constituent Assembly and universal suffrage, and no doubt they do want

this. But whether they would be satisfied with this if they were given

it is another question. Personally, my experience has so far led me to

believe that they would in no wise be satisfied with this; I would lay

odds to this effect. I may, no doubt, be mistaken. I believe what they

really want is for Russia to become a federation of autonomous States

represented by a Republic. Some of the more moderate are either opposed

to this or refrain from stating any opinion in favour of it, owing to

the fact that they know that the Army and ninety million peasants are

ready to kill any one within reach if the “Gasudar” is to be tampered

with.

They fear that if the question of a Republic is brought forward there

will be a general massacre of the educated bourgeoisie, the so-called

“Intelligenzia.” Nothing is more probable. Some people say that nothing

will really change the attitude of these people: no more than any amount

of measures which one of Lord Salisbury’s Cabinets might have adopted

would have changed the opinion of the supporters of Mr. Gladstone or Sir

Henry Campbell-Bannerman, or _vice versâ_. That it is utterly futile to

expect common sense or common fairness from them. That they have their

party feeling, to which they are ready to sacrifice everything, and that

it is infinitely stronger and more bitter, and necessarily stronger and

more bitter, than anything of which we have had experience in England

during the last century.

Some people object that they understand the militant revolutionaries

being in this frame of mind, but they do not understand the more

intelligent passive and detached supporters of the advanced party

sharing such childish views. The more intelligent and detached

supporters are even more violent in their talk than the militant

fighters. At present the kind of argument one hears used is like the

following, which I have heard with my own ears. I have heard intelligent

cultivated people say: “How wicked and cowardly of the Government to

fire upon the revolutionaries, since they have guns and the

revolutionaries haven’t got any.” The English mind, which, be it Liberal

or Conservative, tends to common sense, revolts against such reasoning.

It is rare to find in Russia an Englishman who sympathises with the

revolutionaries. English common sense revolts at the hysterical

impatience which demands the immediate fulfilment of measures more

radical and socialist than exist in any European state, and the common

British sense of fairness is violated at hearing of the wanton murder of

policemen, who earn a poor living and are in no way responsible for the

misdeeds of the Government, exalted as a patriotic execution worthy of

Harmodius and Aristogiton.

On the other hand I think we fail—I am alluding to Englishmen who visit

Russia, and not to those who live here permanently—to realise that the

Russians have been up to now destitute of certain guarantees which

Englishmen regard as a matter of course, and that they do not consider

they have obtained these guarantees yet; and here it is difficult to

contradict them.

Lately an incident happened which has proved a kind of focussing glass

concentrating the opinions of both parties. The revolutionaries walked

into the house of the head of the detective police service, dragged him

from his family circle and shot him. Somewhat later a police officer

named Ermolov walked into the house of a doctor and shot him before his

wife’s eyes. The officer gave himself up to the authorities and said his

act was due to momentary aberration. Around these incidents both parties

wage a war of tongues. The sympathisers with the revolutionaries talk of

the martyrdom of the doctor; whereas their opponents say that the fuss

they are making is unjustifiable since they did the very same thing.

Personally I think that the weak side of the Government case is this:

that the revolutionaries are sure of punishment if caught; whereas the

official who does wrong is not punished, and his wrong-doing is surely

more heinous because he is the representative of the law. On the other

hand I think the wanton murder of policemen has nothing of the heroic in

it, and when I hear it spoken of in terms of admiration I am disgusted.

As to the opponents of the revolutionaries, they also attack the

Government, and especially Count Witte. They say that the only

supporters of Count Witte are foreigners. The _Slovo_ newspaper said,

for instance, that foreigners only supported Count Witte because they

desired the enfeeblement of Russia. But reactionaries say that the

Russian revolution is entirely fostered and supported by a foreign

Government. Now it cannot be to the French Government’s interest for

Russia’s credit to collapse, nor can it be to the German Government’s

interest for Russia to become a federation of autonomous States;

therefore it must be the English Government, and, when pressed, they

admit this. But if the English Press is trying to ruin Russia by

supporting Count Witte, it is obvious that it cannot be at the same time

trying to ruin Russia by supporting the revolutionaries. One of these

two statements must be untrue; quite apart from the question as to

whether the collapse of Russia’s credit would prove a material advantage

to England. The fact is that the reactionaries who talk in this strain

are politically limited in their ideas; they know practically nothing

either of England or of any other country, they merely repeat old

catchwords and musty traditions which have been proved to be absurd.

Now apart from these reactionary Jingoes, who are really of no

importance whatsoever now, there is a large class of people who six

months ago would have been called red revolutionaries, and who now call

themselves “Moderates,” and are called by the revolutionaries members of

the “Black Gang.”

These people wish for the most speedy fulfilment of the Manifesto of the

17th of October; they blame the Government for its delay in making laws,

and they blame Count Witte. But they look upon the Duma as being

competent to settle the various aspirations of the various parties. They

should be a strong party; the trouble is that up to the present time

they have never seen their way either to support the Government or to

form a homogeneous party among themselves. It is possible that the

recent events at Moscow may have the effect of causing them to coalesce.

It is to be hoped that this will happen; for in them lies the safe _via

media_ between the two extremes of reaction and anarchy.

It will be noticed that all these various parties are united with regard

to one detail, that is in their blame of Count Witte. It is also worth

mentioning that in all the innumerable attacks made on Count Witte

nobody has so far had the ingenuity or the perspicacity to name his

possible successor. Would the revolutionaries really like him to go? I

doubt it. They would have, in the first place, nobody to attack; in the

second place, they would risk having a more reactionary successor. For

that reason I have never up to now believed in any of the countless

reports regarding Count Witte’s immediate resignation.

At present the Government is feeling extremely confident owing to the

way in which recent events have turned out; the revolutionaries also

profess to be in no wise disheartened; they say that the Moscow rising

is nothing in comparison with what they will do in March, and that

seeing that they have exhausted the efficacy of strikes and armed

risings they will adopt the method of terrorism and blow up Government

buildings with dynamite (in March). I have heard intelligent

sympathisers with the revolutionaries talking of such a policy with

enthusiasm, saying that this is the only way to deal with the

Government, and that the Duma, such as it will be, is not only of no

account but will never come into existence.

These people are members of the Russian “Intelligenzia,” or middle

professional class. They have many admirable qualities, and I live among

them and like them; but I think that sometimes some of their members

talk most wildly and ought to know better. Up to now, of course, they

have been carefully prevented by the Government from taking any part in

politics whatsoever, and they feel now that vast possibilities have been

opened to them; that it is they who made the revolution, and that it is

they who are going to rule the country.

Only at present they have not succeeded in producing a great man. They

arrogate to themselves the position of sole spokesmen and

representatives of the Russian people, and at this also common sense

revolts. For apart from the fact of the peasants distrusting them, and

the Army hating them, what have they done for Russia? Possibly it was

not they who brought about the Constitution. They class the whole gentry

and aristocracy with the Bureaucrats under one sweeping ban of blame and

abuse; but the gentry laid the foundations of reform and revolution long

before they existed as a class at all (_vide_ the Decembrists, 1825).

Moreover, the gentry gave to Russia Poushkin, Lermontov, Gogol, Tolstoi,

Turgeniev, Tchaikovski, and Dostoievski; in fact, her literature, her

art, her music, her poetry; all her great men and men of genius. In the

sphere of the arts they have made Russia hideous by importing a debased

_art nouveau_ from Munich; and in the sphere of literature they have

produced some excellent writers of short stories. In verse (the verse of

such writers as “Skitaletzt” is weaker than the prose of Andreev and

Co.) the English equivalent would be the political poetry of Mr. Alfred

Austin; the political tendencies of the Russian writers, of course,

differ widely from that of the English Laureate, whose work, although it

has met with public recognition, would, perhaps, have made England less

famous as a literary nation were it the sole representative of our

poetical literature.

Now that I have disburdened myself on the subject of the unfairness of

the “Intelligenzia,” I feel better. According to the oriental fashion I

should at once add counter-arguments giving all that there is to be said

in their favour. This I will do another day.

MOSCOW, _January 13th_.

I came back to Moscow on the 10th. I saw the old year out (it is the

Russian New Year’s Eve) with the kind family who live on the floor above

mine, and with whom I always have my meals. They played Vindt all night.

When the New Year came “A happy New Year” was drunk in champagne.

A year in Russia · 第 8 / 26 章