DEATH AND FUNERAL OF PETER KROPOTKIN
When I reached Moscow in January, 1921, I learned that Peter Kropotkin
had been stricken with pneumonia. I immediately offered to nurse him,
but as one nurse was already in attendance and the Kropotkin cottage was
too small to accommodate extra visitors, it was agreed that Sasha
Kropotkin, who was then in Moscow, should go to Dmitrov to find out
whether I was needed. I had previously arranged to leave for Petrograd
the next day. Till the moment of departure I waited for a call from the
village; none coming, I concluded that Kropotkin was improving. Two days
later, in Petrograd, I was informed by Ravitch that Kropotkin had grown
worse and that I was asked to come to Moscow at once. I left
immediately, but unfortunately my train was ten hours overdue, so that I
reached Moscow too late to connect with Dmitrov. There were at the time
no morning trains to the village and it was not till the eve of
February 7th that I was at last seated in a train bound for the place.
Then the engine went off for fuel and did not return until 1 A.M. of the
next day. When I finally arrived at the Kropotkin cottage, on February
8th, I learned the terrible news that Peter had died about an hour
before. He had repeatedly called for me, but I was not there to render
the last service to my beloved teacher and comrade, one of the world’s
greatest and noblest spirits. It had not been given to me to be near him
in his last hours. I would at least remain until he was carried to his
final resting place.
Two things had particularly impressed me on my two previous visits to
Kropotkin: his lack of bitterness toward the Bolskeviki, and the fact
that he never once alluded to his own hardships and privations. It was
only now, while the family was preparing for the funeral, that I learned
some details of his life under the Bolshevik régime. In the early part
of 1918 Kropotkin had grouped around him some of the ablest specialists
in political economy. His purpose was to make a careful study of the
resources of Russia, to compile these in monographs and to turn them to
practical account in the industrial reconstruction of the country.
Kropotkin was the editor-in-chief of the undertaking. One volume was
prepared, but never published. The Federalist League, as this scientific
group was known, was dissolved by the Government and all the material
confiscated.
On two occasions were the Kropotkin apartments in Moscow requisitioned
and the family forced to seek other quarters. It was after these
experiences that the Kropotkins moved to Dmitrov, where old Peter became
an involuntary exile. Kropotkin, in whose home in the past had gathered
from every land all that was best in thought and ideas, was now forced
to lead the life of a recluse. His only visitors were peasants and
workers of the village and some members of the intelligentsia, whose
wont it was to come to him with their troubles and misfortunes. He had
always kept in touch with the world through numerous publications, but
in Dmitrov he had no access to these sources. His only channels of
information now were the two government papers, _Pravda_ and _Izvestia_.
He was also greatly handicapped in his work on the new Ethics while he
lived in the village. He was mentally starved, which to him was greater
torture than physical malnutrition. It is true that he was given a
better _payck_ than the average person, but even that was insufficient
to sustain his waning strength. Fortunately he occasionally received
from various sources assistance in the form of provisions. His comrades
from abroad, as well as the Anarchists of the Ukraina, often sent him
food packages. Once he received some gifts from Makhno, at that time
heralded by the Bolsheviki as the terror of counter-revolution in
Southern Russia. Especially did the Kropotkins feel the lack of light.
When I visited them in 1920 they were considering themselves fortunate
to be able to have even one room lit. Most of the time Kropotkin worked
by the flicker of a tiny oil lamp that nearly drove him blind. During
the short hours of the day he would transcribe his notes on a
typewriter, slowly and painfully pounding out every letter.
However, it was not his own discomfort which sapped his strength. It was
the thought of the Revolution that had failed, the hardships of Russia,
the persecutions, the endless _raztrels_, which made the last two years
of his life a deep tragedy. On two occasions he attempted to bring the
rulers of Russia to their senses: once in protest against the
suppression of all non-Communist publications; the other time against
the barbaric practice of taking hostages. Ever since the Tcheka had
begun its activities, the Bolshevik Government had sanctioned the taking
of hostages. Old and young, mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, even
children, were kept as hostages for the alleged offence of one of their
kin, of which they often knew nothing. Kropotkin regarded such methods
as inexcusable under any circumstances.
In the fall of 1920, members of the Social Revolutionist Party that had
succeeded in getting abroad threatened retaliation if Communist
persecution of their comrades continued. The Bolshevik Government
announced in its official press that for every Communist victim it would
execute ten Social Revolutionists. It was then that the famous
revolutionist Vera Figner and Peter Kropotkin sent their protest to the
powers that be in Russia. They pointed out that such practices were the
worst blot on the Russian Revolution and an evil that had already
brought terrible results in its wake: history would never forgive such
methods.
The other protest was made in reply to the plan of the Government to
“liquidate” all private publishing establishments, including even those
of the coöperatives. The protest was addressed to the Presidium of the
All-Russian Congress of Soviets, then in session. It is interesting to
note that Gorki, himself an official of the Commissariat of Education,
had sent a similar protest. In this statement Kropotkin called attention
to the danger of such a policy to all progress, in fact, to all thought,
and emphasized that such State monopoly would make creative work utterly
impossible. But the protests had no effect. Thereafter Kropotkin felt
that it was useless to appeal to a government gone mad with power.
During the two days I spent in the Kropotkin household I learned more of
his personal life than during all the years that I had known him. Even
his closest friends were not aware that Peter Kropotkin was an artist
and a musician of much talent. Among his effects I discovered a
collection of drawings of great merit. He loved music passionately and
was himself a musician of unusual ability. Much of his leisure he spent
at the piano.
And now he lay on his couch, in the little workroom, as if peacefully
asleep, his face as kindly in death as it had been in life. Thousands of
people made pilgrimages to the Kropotkin cottage to pay homage to this
great son of Russia. When his remains were carried to the station to be
taken to Moscow, the whole population of the village attended the
impressive funeral procession to express their last affectionate
greeting to the man who had lived among them as their friend and
comrade.
The friends and comrades of Kropotkin decided that the Anarchist
organizations should have exclusive charge of the funeral, and a Peter
Kropotkin Funeral Commission was formed in Moscow, consisting of
representatives of the various Anarchist groups. The Committee wired
Lenin, asking him to order the release of all Anarchists imprisoned in
the capital in order to give them the opportunity to participate in the
funeral.
Owing to the nationalization of all public conveyances, printing
establishments, etc., the Anarchist Funeral Commission was compelled to
ask the Moscow Soviet to enable it to carry out successfully the funeral
programme. The Anarchists being deprived of their own press, the
Commission had to apply to the authorities for the publication of the
matter necessary in connection with the funeral arrangements. After
considerable discussion permission was secured to print two leaflets and
to issue a four-page bulletin in commemoration of Peter Kropotkin. The
Commission requested that the paper be issued without censorship and
stated that the reading matter would consist of appreciations of our
dead comrade, exclusive of all polemical questions. This request was
categorically refused. Having no choice, the Commission was forced to
submit and the manuscripts were sent in for censorship. To forestall the
possibility of remaining without any memorial issue because of the
delaying tactics of the Government, the Funeral Commission resolved to
open, on its own responsibility, a certain Anarchist printing office
that had been sealed by the Government. The bulletin and the two
leaflets were printed in that establishment.
In answer to the wire sent to Lenin the Central Committee of the
All-Russian Executive of the Soviets resolved “to propose to the
All-Russian Extraordinary Commission (_Veh-Tcheka_) to release,
according to its judgment, the imprisoned Anarchists for participation
in the funeral of Peter A. Kropotkin.” The delegates sent to the Tcheka
were asked whether the Funeral Commission would guarantee the return of
the prisoners. They replied that the question had not been discussed.
The Tcheka thereupon refused to release the Anarchists. The Funeral
Commission, informed of the new development in the situation,
immediately guaranteed the return of the prisoners after the funeral.
Thereupon the Tcheka replied that “there are no Anarchists in prison
who, in the judgment of the Chairman of the Extraordinary Commission,
could be released for the funeral.”
The remains of the dead lay in state in the Hall of Columns in the
Moscow Labour Temple. On the morning of the funeral the Kropotkin
Funeral Commission decided to inform the assembled people of the breach
of faith on the part of the authorities and demonstratively to withdraw
from the Temple all the wreaths presented by official Communist bodies.
Fearing public exposure, the representatives of the Moscow Soviet
definitely promised that all the Anarchists imprisoned in Moscow would
immediately be released to attend the funeral. But this promise was also
broken, only seven of the Anarchists being released from the “inner
jail” of the Extraordinary Commission. None of the Anarchists imprisoned
in the Butyrki attended the funeral. The official explanation was that
the twenty Anarchists incarcerated in that prison refused to accept the
offer of the authorities. Later I visited the prisoners to ascertain the
facts in the case. They informed me that a representative of the
Extraordinary Commission insisted on _individual_ attendance, making
exceptions in some cases. The Anarchists, aware that the promise of
temporary release was _collective_, demanded that the stipulations be
kept. The Tcheka representative went to the telephone to consult the
higher authorities, so he said. He did not return.
The funeral was a most impressive sight. It was a unique demonstration
never witnessed in any other country. Long lines of members of Anarchist
organizations, labour unions, scientific and literary societies and
student bodies marched for over two hours from the Labour Temple to the
burial place, seven versts [nearly five miles] distant. The procession
was headed by students and children carrying wreaths presented by
various organizations. Anarchist banners of black and scarlet Socialist
emblems floated above the multitude. The mile-long procession entirely
dispensed with the services of the official guardians of the peace.
Perfect order was kept by the multitude itself spontaneously forming in
several rows, while students and workers organized a live chain on both
sides of the marchers. Passing the Tolstoi Museum the cortège paused,
and the banners were lowered in honour of the memory of another great
son of Russia. A group of Tolstoians on the steps of the Museum rendered
Chopin’s Funeral March as an expression of their love and reverence for
Kropotkin.
The brilliant winter sun was sinking behind the horizon when the remains
of Kropotkin were lowered into the grave, after speakers of many
political tendencies had paid the last tribute to their great teacher
and comrade.