MY FURTHER DISILLUSIONMENT
IN RUSSIA
My
Further Disillusionment
in Russia
By
Emma Goldman
_Being a Continuation of Miss Goldman’s
Experiences in Russia as given in “My
Disillusionment in Russia”_
[Illustration: colophon]
Garden City New York
Doubleday, Page & Company
1924
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES
AT
THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS, GARDEN CITY, N. Y.
_First Edition_
PUBLISHERS’ NOTE
Some years ago Emma Goldman was deported from this country and went to
Russia to investigate personally what she believed to be the nearest
approach to a Utopia which the world had yet produced.
Her experiences so thoroughly disillusioned her that she conceived it to
be her duty to set forth these experiences and her conclusions, which
she did in a book entitled “My Disillusionment in Russia.” The rights in
this material she sold to an American newspaper syndicate from whom we
purchased the book rights, and by whom we were furnished with the copy
for the book. We published the book under date of October 26, 1923, and
not until it was in circulation did we learn that it was minus the last
twelve chapters which had never been turned over to us by the newspaper
syndicate, nor had any intimation been given us that the copy turned
over to us was incomplete. While the conclusion of the book as we
published it was abrupt it was not more so than is frequently the case;
and, therefore, there was no internal evidence to indicate its
incompleteness.
We are now rectifying this serious error by the publication in a
separate volume of the twelve missing chapters under the title, “My
Further Disillusionment in Russia.” This material is even more important
in its revelations and of even greater interest than that already
published.
PREFACE
The annals of literature tell of books expurgated, of whole chapters
eliminated or changed beyond recognition. But I believe it has rarely
happened that a work should be published with more than a third of it
left out and--without the reviewers being aware of the fact. This
doubtful distinction has fallen to the lot of my work on Russia.
The story of that painful experience might well make another chapter,
but for the present it is sufficient to give the bare facts of the case.
My manuscript was sent to the original purchaser in two parts, at
different times. Subsequently the publishing house of Doubleday, Page &
Co. bought the rights to my work, but when the first printed copies
reached me I discovered to my dismay that not only had my original
title, “My Two Years in Russia,” been changed to “My Disillusionment in
Russia,” but that the last twelve chapters were entirely missing,
including my Afterword which is, at least to myself, the most vital
part.
There followed an exchange of cables and letters, which gradually
elicited the fact that Doubleday, Page & Co. had secured my MSS. from a
literary agency in the good faith that it was complete. By some
conspiracy of circumstances the second instalment of my work either
failed to reach the original purchaser or was lost in his office. At any
rate, the book was published without any one’s suspecting its
incompleteness.
The present volume contains the chapters missing from the first edition,
and I deeply appreciate the devotion of my friends who have made the
appearance of this additional issue possible--in justice to myself and
to my readers.
The adventures of my MSS. are not without their humorous side, which
throws a peculiar light on the critics. Of almost a hundred American
reviewers of my work only two sensed its incompleteness. And,
incidentally, one of them is not a “regular” critic but a librarian.
Rather a reflection on professional acumen or conscientiousness.
It were a waste of time to notice the “criticism” of those who have
either not read the book or lacked the wit to realize that it was
unfinished. Of all the alleged “reviews” only two deserve consideration
as written by earnest and able men: those of Henry Alsberg and H. L.
Mencken.
Mr. Alsberg believes that the present title of my book is more
appropriate to its contents than the name I had chosen. My
disillusionment, he asserts, is not only with the Bolsheviki but with
the Revolution itself. In support of this contention he cites Bukharin’s
remark to the effect that “a revolution cannot be accomplished without
terror, disorganization, and even wanton destruction, any more than an
omelette can be made without breaking the eggs.” But it seems not to
have occurred to Mr. Alsberg that, though the breaking of the eggs is
necessary, no omelette can be made if the yolk be thrown away. And that
is precisely what the Communist Party did to the Russian Revolution. For
the yolk they substituted Bolshevism, more specifically Leninism, with
the result as shown in my book--a result that is gradually being
realized as an entire failure by the world at large.
Mr. Alsberg also believes that it was “grim necessity, the driving need
to preserve not the Revolution but the remnants of civilization, which
forced the Bolsheviki to lay hands on every available weapon, the
Terror, the Tcheka, suppression of free speech and press, censorship,
military conscription, conscription of labour, requisitioning of
peasants’ crops, even bribery and corruption.” Mr. Alsberg evidently
agrees with me that the Communists employed all these methods; and that,
as he himself states, “the ‘means’ largely _determines_ the ‘end’”--a
conclusion the proof and demonstration of which are contained in my
book. The only mistake in this viewpoint, however--a most vital one--is
the assumption that the Bolsheviki were forced to resort to the methods
referred to in order to “preserve the remnants of civilization.” Such a
view is based on an entire misconception of the philosophy and practice
of Bolshevism. Nothing can be further from the desire or intention of
Leninism than the “preservation of the remnants of civilization.” Had
Mr. Alsberg said instead “the preservation of the Communist
dictatorship, of the political absolutism of the Party”, he would have
come nearer the truth, and we should have no quarrel on the matter. We
must not fail to consider that the Bolsheviki _continue_ to employ
exactly the same methods to-day as they did in what Mr. Alsberg calls
“the moments of grim necessity, in 1919, 1920, and 1921.”
We are in 1924. The military fronts have long ago been liquidated;
internal counter-revolution is suppressed; the old bourgeoisie is
eliminated; the “moments of grim necessity” are past. In fact, Russia is
being politically recognized by various governments of Europe and Asia,
and the Bolsheviki are inviting international capital to come to their
country whose natural wealth, as Tchicherin assures the world
capitalists, is “waiting to be exploited.” The “moments of grim
necessity” are gone, but the Terror, the Tcheka, suppression of free
speech and press, and all the other Communist methods enumerated by Mr.
Alsberg _still remain in force_. Indeed, they are being applied even
more brutally and barbarously since the death of Lenin. Is it to
“preserve the remnants of civilization,” as Mr. Alsberg claims, or to
strengthen the weakening Party dictatorship?
Mr. Alsberg charges me with believing that “had the Russians made the
Revolution à la Bakunin instead of à la Marx” the result would have been
different and more satisfactory. I plead guilty to the charge. In truth,
I not only believe so; I am certain of it. The Russian Revolution--more
correctly, Bolshevik methods--conclusively demonstrated how a
revolution should _not_ be made. The Russian experiment has proven the
fatality of a political party usurping the functions of the
revolutionary people, of an omnipotent State seeking to impose its will
upon the country, of a dictatorship attempting to “organize” the new
life. But I need not repeat here the reflections summed up in my
concluding chapter. Unfortunately they did not appear in the first
edition of my work. Otherwise Mr. Alsberg might perhaps have written
differently.
Mr. Mencken in his review believes me a “prejudiced witness,” because
I--an Anarchist--am opposed to government, whatever its form. Yet the
whole first part of my book entirely disproves the assumption of my
prejudice. I defended the Bolsheviki while still in America, and for
long months in Russia I sought every opportunity to coöperate with them
and to aid in the great task of revolutionary upbuilding. Though an
Anarchist and an anti-governmentalist, I had not come to Russia
expecting to find my ideal realized. I saw in the Bolsheviki the symbol
of the Revolution and I was eager to work with them in spite of our
differences. However, if lack of aloofness from the actualities of life
means that one cannot judge things fairly, then Mr. Mencken is right.
One could not have lived through two years of Communist terror, of a
régime involving the enslavement of the whole people, the annihilation
of the most fundamental values, human and revolutionary, of corruption
and mismanagement, and yet have remained aloof or “impartial” in Mr.
Mencken’s sense. I doubt whether Mr. Mencken, though not an Anarchist,
would have done so. Could he, being human?
In conclusion, the present publication of the chapters missing in the
first edition comes at a very significant period in the life of Russia.
When the “Nep,” Lenin’s new economic policy, was introduced, there rose
the hope of a better day, of a gradual abolition of the policies of
terror and persecution. The Communist dictatorship seemed inclined to
relax its strangle-hold upon the thoughts and lives of the people. But
the hope was short-lived. Since the death of Lenin the Bolsheviki have
returned to the terror of the worst days of their régime. Despotism,
fearing for its power, seeks safety in bloodshed. More timely even than
in 1922 is my book to-day.
When the first series of my articles on Russia appeared, in 1922, and
later when my book was published, I was bitterly attacked and denounced
by American radicals of almost every camp. But I felt confident that the
time would come when the mask would be torn from the false face of
Bolshevism and the great delusion exposed. The time has come even sooner
than I anticipated. In most civilized lands--in France, England,
Germany, in the Scandinavian and Latin countries, even in America the
fog of blind faith is gradually lifting. The reactionary character of
the Bolshevik régime is being realized by the masses, its terrorism and
persecution of non-Communist opinion condemned. The torture of the
political victims of the dictatorship in the prisons of Russia, in the
concentration camps of the frozen North and in Siberian exile, is
rousing the conscience of the more progressive elements the world over.
In almost every country societies for the defense and aid of the
politicals imprisoned in Russia have been formed, with the object of
securing their liberation and the establishment of freedom of opinion
and expression in Russia.
If my work will help in these efforts to throw light upon the real
situation in Russia and to awaken the world to the true character of
Bolshevism and the fatality of dictatorship--be it Fascist or
Communist--I shall bear with equanimity the misunderstanding and
misrepresentation of foe or friend. And I shall not regret the travail
and struggle of spirit that produced this work, which now, after many
vicissitudes, is at last complete in print.
EMMA GOLDMAN.
Berlin, June, 1924.
CONTENTS
PAGE
PREFACE vii
CHAPTER
I. ODESSA 1
II. RETURNING TO MOSCOW 13
III. BACK IN PETROGRAD 27
IV. ARCHANGEL AND RETURN 41
V. DEATH AND FUNERAL OF PETER
KROPOTKIN 54
VI. KRONSTADT 65
VII. PERSECUTION OF ANARCHISTS 78
VIII. TRAVELLING SALESMEN OF THE
REVOLUTION 95
IX. EDUCATION AND CULTURE 110
X. EXPLOITING THE FAMINE 130
XI. THE SOCIALIST REPUBLIC RESORTS
TO DEPORTATION 136
XII. AFTERWORD 144
MY FURTHER DISILLUSIONMENT
IN RUSSIA
MY FURTHER DISILLUSIONMENT IN RUSSIA
CHAPTER I
ODESSA
At the numerous stations between Kiev and Odessa we frequently had to
wait for days before we managed to make connections with trains going
south. We employed our leisure in visiting the small towns and villages,
and formed many acquaintances. The markets were especially of interest
to us.
In the Kiev province by far the greater part of the population is
Jewish. They had suffered many pogroms and were now living in constant
terror of their repetition. But the will to live is indestructible,
particularly in the Jew; otherwise centuries of persecution and
slaughter would long since have destroyed the race. Its peculiar
perseverance was manifest everywhere: the Jews continued to trade as if
nothing had happened. The news that Americans were in town would
quickly gather about us crowds of people anxious to hear of the New
World. To them it was still a “new” world, of which they were as
ignorant as they had been fifty years before. But not only
America--Russia itself was a sealed book to them. They knew that it was
a country of pogroms, that some incomprehensible thing called revolution
had happened, and that the Bolsheviki would not let them ply their
trade. Even the younger element in the more distant villages was not
much better informed.
The difference between a famished population and one having access to
food supplies was very noticeable. Between Kiev and Odessa products were
extremely cheap as compared with northern Russia. Butter, for instance,
was 250 rubles a pound as against 3,000 in Petrograd; sugar 350 rubles,
while in Moscow it was 5,000. White flour, almost impossible to obtain
in the capitals, was here sold at 80 rubles a pound. Yet all along the
journey we were besieged at the stations by hungry people, begging for
food. The country possessed plenty of supplies, but evidently the
average person had no means of purchase. Especially terrible was the
sight of the emaciated and ragged children, pleading for a crust of
bread at the car windows.
While in the neighbourhood of Zhmerenka we received the appalling news
of the retreat of the Twelfth Army and the quick advance of the Polish
forces. It was a veritable rout in which the Bolsheviki lost great
stores of food and medical supplies, of which Russia stood so much in
need. The Polish operations and the Wrangel attacks from the Crimea
threatened to cut our journey short. It had been our original purpose to
visit the Caucasus but the new developments made travel farther than
Odessa impracticable. We still hoped, however, to continue our trip
provided we could secure an extension of time for our car permit, which
was to expire on October 1st.
We reached Odessa just after a fire had completely destroyed the main
telegraph and electric stations, putting the city in total darkness. As
it would require considerable time to make repairs, the situation
increased the nervousness of the city, for darkness favoured
counter-revolutionary plots. Rumours were afloat of Kiev having been
taken by the Poles and of the approach of Wrangel.
It was our custom to pay our first official visit to the _Ispolkom_
(Executive Committee) in order to familiarize ourselves with the
situation and the general work scheme of the local institutions. In
Odessa there was a _Revkom_ instead, indicating that the affairs of the
city had not yet been sufficiently organized to establish a Soviet and
its Executive Committee. The Chairman of the _Revkom_ was a young man,
not over thirty, with a hard face. After scrutinizing our documents
carefully and learning the objects of our mission he stated that he
could not be of any assistance to us. The situation in Odessa was
precarious, and as he was busy with many pressing matters, the
Expedition would have to look out for itself. He gave us permission,
however, to visit the Soviet institutions and to collect whatever we
might be able to procure. He did not consider the Petrograd Museum and
its work of much importance. He was an ordinary worker appointed to a
high government position, not over-intelligent and apparently
antagonistic to everything “intellectual.”
The prospects did not look promising, but, of course, we could not leave
Odessa without making a serious effort to collect the rich historical
material which we knew to be in the city. Returning from the _Revkom_ we
happened to meet a group of young people who recognized us, they having
lived in America before. They assured us that we could expect no aid
from the Chairman who was known as a narrow fanatic embittered against
the _intelligentsia_. Several of the group offered to introduce us to
other officials who would be able and willing to assist us in our
efforts. We learned that the Chairman of Public Economy in Odessa was an
Anarchist, and that the head of the Metal Trade Unions was also an
Anarchist. The information held out hope that we might accomplish
something in Odessa, after all.
We lost no time in visiting the two men, but the result was not
encouraging. Both were willing to do everything in their power, but
warned us to expect no returns because Odessa, as they phrased it, was
The City of Sabotage.
It must unfortunately be admitted that our experience justified that
characterization. I had seen a great deal of sabotage in various Soviet
institutions in every city I had visited. Everywhere the numerous
employees deliberately wasted their time while thousands of applicants
spent days and weeks in the corridors and offices without receiving the
least attention. The greater part of Russia did nothing else but stand
in line, waiting for the bureaucrats, big and little, to admit them to
their sanctums. But bad as conditions were in other cities, nowhere did
I find such systematic sabotage as in Odessa. From the highest to the
lowest Soviet worker everyone was busy with something other than the
work entrusted to him. Office hours were supposed to begin at ten, but
as a rule no official could be found in any of the departments till noon
or even later. At three in the afternoon the institutions closed, and
therefore very little work was accomplished.
We remained in Odessa two weeks, but so far as material collected
through official channels was concerned, we got practically nothing.
Whatever we accomplished was due to the aid of private persons and
members of outlawed political parties. From them we received valuable
material concerning the persecution of the Mensheviki and the labour
organizations where the influence of the former was strongest. The
management of several unions had been entirely suspended at the time we
arrived in Odessa, and there began a complete reorganization of them by
the Communists, for the purpose of eliminating all opposing elements.
Among the interesting people we met in Odessa were the Zionists,
including some well-known literary and professional men. It was at
Doctor N----’s house that we met them. The Doctor himself was the owner
of a sanatorium located on a beautiful spot overlooking the Black Sea
and considered the best in the South. The institution had been
nationalized by the Bolsheviki, but Doctor N---- was left in charge and
was even permitted to take in private patients. In return for that
privilege he had to board and give medical attention to Soviet patients
for one third of the established price.
Late into the night we discussed the Russian situation with the guests
at the Doctor’s house. Most of them were antagonistic to the Bolshevik
régime. “Lenin let loose the motto ‘Rob the robbers,’ and at least here
in the Ukraina his followers have carried out the order to the letter,”
said the Doctor. It was the general opinion of the gathering that the
confusion and ruin which resulted were due to that policy. It robbed the
old bourgeoisie but did not benefit the workers. The Doctor cited his
sanatorium as an illustration. When the Bolsheviki took it over they
declared that the proletariat was to own and enjoy the place, but not a
single worker had since been received as patient, not even a proletarian
Communist. The people the Soviet sent to the sanatorium were members of
the new bureaucracy, usually the high officials. The Chairman of the
Tcheka, for instance, who suffered from nervous breakdown, had been in
the institution several times. “He works sixteen hours a day sending
people to their death,” the Doctor commented. “You can easily imagine
how it feels to take care of such a man.”
One of the Bundist writers present held that the Bolsheviki were trying
to imitate the French Revolution. Corruption was rampant; it put in the
shade the worst crimes of the Jacobins. Not a day passed but that people
were arrested for trading in Tsarist or Kerensky money; yet it was an
open secret that the Chairman of the Tcheka himself speculated in
valuta. The depravity of the Tcheka was a matter of common knowledge.
People were shot for slight offences, while those who could afford to
give bribes were freed even after they had been sentenced to death. It
repeatedly happened that the rich relatives of an arrested man would be
notified by the Tcheka of his execution. A few weeks later, after they
had somewhat recovered from their shock and grief, they would be
informed that the report of the man’s death was erroneous, that he was
alive and could be liberated by paying a fine, usually a very high one.
Of course, the relatives would strain every effort to raise the money.
Then they would suddenly be arrested for attempted bribery, their money
confiscated and the prisoner shot.
One of the Doctor’s guests, who lived in the “Tcheka Street” told of the
refinements of terrorism practised to awe the population. Almost daily
he witnessed the same sights: early in the morning mounted Tchekists
would dash by, shooting into the air--a warning that all windows must be
closed. Then came motor trucks loaded with the doomed. They lay in rows,
faces downward, their hands tied, soldiers standing over them with
rifles. They were being carried to execution outside the city. A few
hours later the trucks would return empty save for a few soldiers. Blood
dripped from the wagons, leaving a crimson streak on the pavement all
the way to the Tcheka headquarters.
It was not possible that Moscow did not know about these things, the
Zionists asserted. The fear of the central power was too great to permit
of the local Tcheka doing anything not approved by Moscow. But it was no
wonder that the Bolsheviki had to resort to such methods. A small
political party trying to control a population of 150,000,000, which
bitterly hated the Communists, could not hope to maintain itself
without such an institution as the Tcheka. The latter was characteristic
of the basic principles of Bolshevik conception: the country must be
_forced_ to be _saved_ by the Communist Party. The pretext that the
Bolsheviki were defending the Revolution was a hollow mockery. As a
matter of fact, they had entirely destroyed it.
It had grown so late that the members of our expedition could not return
to the car, fearing difficulty in locating it, because of the dark
night. We therefore remained at the home of our host, to meet next day a
group of men of national reputation, including Bialeck, the greatest
living Jewish poet, known to Jews the world over. There was also present
a literary investigator, who had made a special study of the question of
pogroms. He had visited seventy-two cities, collecting the richest
material to be had on the subject. It was his opinion that, contrary to
accepted notion, the pogrom wave during the civil war period, between
the years 1918 and 1921, under the various Ukrainian governments, was
even worse than the most terrible Jewish massacres under the Tsars.
There had taken place no pogroms during the Bolshevik régime, but he
believed that the atmosphere created by them intensified the anti-Jewish
spirit and would some day break out in the wholesale slaughter of the
Jews. He did not think that the Bolsheviki were particularly concerned
in defending his race. In certain localities of the South the Jews,
constantly exposed to assault and pillage by robber bands and
occasionally by individual Red soldiers, had appealed to the Soviet
Government for permission to organize themselves for self-defence,
requesting that arms be given them. But in all such cases the Government
refused.
It was the general sentiment of the Zionists that the continuation of
the Bolsheviki in power meant the destruction of the Jews. The Russian
Jews, as a rule, were not workers. From time immemorial they had engaged
in trade; but business had been destroyed by the Communists, and before
the Jew could be turned into a worker he would deteriorate, as a race,
and become extinct. Specific Jewish culture, the most priceless thing to
the Zionists, was frowned upon by the Bolsheviki. That phase of the
situation seemed to affect them even more deeply than pogroms.
These intellectual Jews were not of the proletarian class. They were
bourgeois without any revolutionary spirit. Their criticism of the
Bolsheviki did not appeal to me for it was a criticism from the Right.
If I had still believed in the Communists as the true champions of the
Revolution I could have defended them against the Zionist complaints.
But I myself had lost faith in the revolutionary integrity of the
Bolsheviki.