MEETING PEOPLE
At A conference of the Moscow Anarchists in March I first learned of
the part some Anarchists had played in the Russian Revolution. In the
July uprising of 1917 the Kronstadt sailors were led by the Anarchist
Yarchuck; the Constituent Assembly was dispersed by Zhelezniakov;
the Anarchists had participated on every front and helped to drive
back the Allied attacks. It was the consensus of opinion that the
Anarchists were always among the first to face fire, as they were
also the most active in the reconstructive work. One of the biggest
factories near Moscow, which did not stop work during the entire period
of the Revolution, was managed by an Anarchist. Anarchists were doing
important work in the Foreign Office and in all other departments. I
learned that the Anarchists had virtually helped the Bolsheviki into
power. Five months later, in April, 1918, machine guns were used to
destroy the Moscow Anarchist Club and to suppress their press. That
was before Mirbach arrived in Moscow. The field had to be "cleared of
disturbing elements," and the Anarchists were the first to suffer.
Since then the persecution of the Anarchists has never ceased.
The Moscow Anarchist Conference was critical not only toward the
existing régime, but toward its own comrades as well. It spoke frankly
of the negative sides of the movement, and of its lack of unity and
coöperation during the revolutionary period. Later I was to learn more
of the internal dissensions in the Anarchist movement. Before closing,
the Conference decided to call on the Soviet Government to release the
imprisoned Anarchists and to legalize Anarchist educational work. The
Conference asked Alexander Berkman and myself to sign the resolution
to that effect. It was a shock to me that Anarchists should ask any
government to legalize their efforts, but I still believed the Soviet
Government to be at least to some extent expressive of the Revolution.
I signed the resolution, and as I was to see Lenin in a few days I
promised to take the matter up with him.
The interview with Lenin was arranged by Balabanova. "You must see
Ilitch, talk to him about the things that are disturbing you and the
work you would like to do," she had said. But some time passed before
the opportunity came. At last one day Balabanova called up to ask
whether I could go at once. Lenin had sent his car and we were quickly
driven over to the Kremlin, passed without question by the guards, and
at last ushered into the workroom of the all-powerful president of the
People's Commissars.
When we entered Lenin held a copy of the brochure _Trial and
Speeches_[2] in his hands. I had given my only copy to Balabanova, who
had evidently sent the booklet on ahead of us to Lenin. One of his
first questions was, "When could the Social Revolution be expected in
America?" I had been asked the question repeatedly before, but I was
astounded to hear it from Lenin. It seemed incredible that a man of his
information should know so little about conditions in America.
My Russian at this time was halting, but Lenin declared that though he
had lived in Europe for many years he had not learned to speak foreign
languages: the conversation would therefore have to be carried on in
Russian. At once he launched into a eulogy of our speeches in court.
"What a splendid opportunity for propaganda," he said; "it is worth
going to prison, if the courts can so successfully be turned into a
forum." I felt his steady cold gaze upon me, penetrating my very being,
as if he were reflecting upon the use I might be put to. Presently he
asked what I would want to do. I told him I would like to repay America
what it had done for Russia. I spoke of the Society of the Friends of
Russian Freedom, organized thirty years ago by George Kennan and later
reorganized by Alice Stone Blackwell and other liberal Americans. I
briefly sketched the splendid work they had done to arouse interest in
the struggle for Russian freedom, and the great moral and financial aid
the Society had given through all those years. To organize a Russian
society for American freedom was my plan. Lenin appeared enthusiastic.
"That is a great idea, and you shall have all the help you want. But,
of course, it will be under the auspices of the Third International.
Prepare your plan in writing and send it to me."
I broached the subject of the Anarchists in Russia. I showed him a
letter I had received from Martens, the Soviet representative in
America, shortly before my deportation. Martens asserted that the
Anarchists in Russia enjoyed full freedom of speech and press. Since
my arrival I found scores of Anarchists in prison and their press
suppressed. I explained that I could not think of working with the
Soviet Government so long as my comrades were in prison for opinion's
sake. I also told him of the resolutions of the Moscow Anarchist
Conference. He listened patiently and promised to bring the matter to
the attention of his party. "But as to free speech," he remarked, "that
is, of course, a bourgeois notion. There can be no free speech in a
revolutionary period. We have the peasantry against us because we can
give them nothing in return for their bread. We will have them on our
side when we have something to exchange. Then you can have all the free
speech you want--but not now. Recently we needed peasants to cart some
wood into the city. They demanded salt. We thought we had no salt, but
then we discovered seventy poods in Moscow in one of our warehouses.
At once the peasants were willing to cart the wood. Your comrades
must wait until we can meet the needs of the peasants. Meanwhile,
they should work with us. Look at William Shatov, for instance, who
has helped save Petrograd from Yudenitch. He works with us and we
appreciate his services. Shatov was among the first to receive the
order of the Red Banner."
Free speech, free press, the spiritual achievements of centuries, what
were they to this man? A Puritan, he was sure his scheme alone could
redeem Russia. Those who served his plans were right, the others could
not be tolerated.
A shrewd Asiatic, this Lenin. He knows how to play on the weak sides of
men by flattery, rewards, medals. I left convinced that his approach to
people was purely utilitarian, for the use he could get out of them for
his scheme. And his scheme--was it the Revolution?
I prepared the plan for the Society of the Russian Friends of American
Freedom and elaborated the details of the work I had in mind, but
refused to place myself under the protecting wing of the Third
International. I explained to Lenin that the American people had little
faith in politics, and would certainly consider it an imposition to be
directed and guided by a political machine from Moscow. I could not
consistently align myself with the Third International.
Some time later I saw Tchicherin. I believe it was 4 A. M.
when our interview took place. He also asked about the possibilities
of a revolution in America, and seemed to doubt my judgment when I
informed him that there was no hope of it in the near future. We spoke
of the I. W. W., which had evidently been misrepresented to him.
I assured Tchicherin that while I am not an I. W. W. I must state
that they represented the only conscious and effective revolutionary
proletarian organization in the United States, and were sure to play an
important rôle in the future labour history of the country.
Next to Balabanova, Tchicherin impressed me as the most simple and
unassuming of the leading Communists in Moscow. But all were equally
naïve in their estimate of the world outside of Russia. Was their
judgment so faulty because they had been cut off from Europe and
America so long? Or was their great need of European help father to
their wish? At any rate, they all clung to the idea of approaching
revolutions in the western countries, forgetful that revolutions are
not made to order, and apparently unconscious that their own revolution
had been twisted out of shape and semblance and was gradually being
done to death.
The editor of the London _Daily Herald_, accompanied by one of his
reporters, had preceded me to Moscow. They wanted to visit Kropotkin,
and they had been given a special car. Together with Alexander Berkman
and A. Shapiro, I was able to join Mr. Lansbury.
The Kropotkin cottage stood back in the garden away from the street.
Only a faint ray from a kerosene lamp lit up the path to the house.
Kropotkin received us with his characteristic graciousness, evidently
glad at our visit. But I was shocked at his altered appearance. The
last time I had seen him was in 1907, in Paris, which I visited after
the Anarchist Congress in Amsterdam. Kropotkin, barred from France
for many years, had just been given the right to return. He was then
sixty-five years of age, but still so full of life and energy that he
seemed much younger. Now he looked old and worn.
I was eager to get some light from Kropotkin on the problems that were
troubling me, particularly on the relation of the Bolsheviki to the
Revolution. What was his opinion? Why had he been silent so long?
I took no notes and therefore I can give only the gist of what
Kropotkin said. He stated that the Revolution had carried the people
to great spiritual heights and had paved the way for profound social
changes. If the people had been permitted to apply their released
energies, Russia would not be in her present condition of ruin. The
Bolsheviki, who had been carried to the top by the revolutionary wave,
first caught the popular ear by extreme revolutionary slogans, thereby
gaining the confidence of the masses and the support of militant
revolutionists.
He continued to narrate that early in the October period the
Bolsheviki began to subordinate the interests of the Revolution to the
establishment of their dictatorship, which coerced and paralysed every
social activity. He stated that the coöperatives were the main medium
that could have bridged the interests of the peasants and the workers.
The coöperatives were among the first to be crushed. He spoke with much
feeling of the oppression, the persecution, the hounding of every shade
of opinion, and cited numerous instances of the misery and distress of
the people. He emphasized that the Bolsheviki had discredited Socialism
and Communism in the eyes of the Russian people.
"Why haven't you raised your voice against these evils, against this
machine that is sapping the life blood of the Revolution?" I asked.
He gave two reasons. As long as Russia was being attacked by the
combined Imperialists, and Russian women and children were dying from
the effects of the blockade, he could not join the shrieking chorus of
the ex-revolutionists in the cry of "Crucify!" He preferred silence.
Secondly, there was no medium of expression in Russia itself. To
protest to the Government was useless. Its concern was to maintain
itself in power. It could not stop at such "trifles" as human rights or
human lives. Then he added: "We have always pointed out the effects of
Marxism in action. Why be surprised now?"
I asked Kropotkin whether he was noting down his impressions and
observations. Surely he must see the importance of such a record to
his comrades and to the workers; in fact, to the whole world. "No,"
he said; "it is impossible to write when one is in the midst of great
human suffering, when every hour brings new tragedies. Then there may
be a raid at any moment. The Tcheka comes swooping down in the night,
ransacks every corner, turns everything inside out, and marches off
with every scrap of paper. Under such constant stress it is impossible
to keep records. But besides these considerations there is my book on
Ethics. I can only work a few hours a day, and I must concentrate on
that to the exclusion of everything else."
After a tender embrace which Peter never failed to give those he loved,
we returned to our car. My heart was heavy, my spirit confused and
troubled by what I had heard. I was also distressed by the poor state
of health of our comrade: I feared he could not survive till spring.
The thought that Peter Kropotkin might go to his grave and that the
world might never know what he thought of the Russian Revolution was
appalling.
FOOTNOTE:
[2] _Trial and Speeches of Alexander Berkman and Emma Goldman before
the Federal Court of New York, June-July, 1917._ Mother Earth
Publishing Co., New York.