CHAPTER XII

AFTERWORD

Non-Bolshevik Socialist critics of the Russian failure contend that the

Revolution could not have succeeded in Russia because industrial

conditions had not reached the necessary climax in that country. They

point to Marx, who taught that a social revolution is possible only in

countries with a highly developed industrial system and its attendant

social antagonisms. They therefore claim that the Russian Revolution

could not be a social revolution, and that historically it had to evolve

along constitutional, democratic lines, complemented by a growing

industry, in order to ripen the country economically for the basic

change.

This orthodox Marxian view leaves an important factor out of

consideration--a factor perhaps more vital to the possibility and

success of a social revolution than even the industrial element. That is

the psychology of the masses at a given period. Why is there, for

instance, no social revolution in the United States, France, or even in

Germany? Surely these countries have reached the industrial development

set by Marx as the culminating stage. The truth is that industrial

development and sharp social contrasts are of themselves by no means

sufficient to give birth to a new society or to call forth a social

revolution. The necessary social consciousness, the required mass

psychology is missing in such countries as the United States and the

others mentioned. That explains why no social revolution has taken place

there.

In this regard Russia had the advantage of other more industrialized and

“civilized” lands. It is true that Russia was not as advanced

industrially as her Western neighbours. But the Russian mass psychology,

inspired and intensified by the February Revolution, was ripening at so

fast a pace that within a few months the people were ready for such

ultra-revolutionary slogans as “All power to the Soviets” and “The land

to the peasants, the factories to the workers.”

The significance of these slogans should not be under-estimated.

Expressing in a large degree the instinctive and semi-conscious will of

the people, they yet signified the complete social, economic, and

industrial reorganization of Russia. What country in Europe or America

is prepared to interpret such revolutionary mottoes into life? Yet in

Russia, in the months of June and July, 1917, these slogans became

popular and were enthusiastically and actively taken up, in the form of

direct action, by the bulk of the industrial and agrarian population of

more than 150 millions. That was sufficient proof of the “ripeness” of

the Russian people for the social revolution.

As to economic “preparedness” in the Marxian sense, it must not be

forgotten that Russia is preëminently an agrarian country. Marx’s dictum

presupposes the industrialization of the peasant and farmer population

in every highly developed society, as a step toward social fitness for

revolution. But events in Russia, in 1917, demonstrated that revolution

does not await this process of industrialization and--what is more

important--cannot be made to wait. The Russian peasants began to

expropriate the landlords and the workers took possession of the

factories without taking cognizance of Marxian dicta. This popular

action, by virtue of its own logic, ushered in the social revolution in

Russia, upsetting all Marxian calculations. The psychology of the Slav

proved stronger than social-democratic theories.

That psychology involved the passionate yearning for liberty nurtured by

a century of revolutionary agitation among all classes of society. The

Russian people had fortunately remained politically unsophisticated and

untouched by the corruption and confusion created among the proletariat

of other countries by “democratic” liberty and self-government. The

Russian remained, in this sense, natural and simple, unfamiliar with the

subtleties of politics, of parliamentary trickery, and legal makeshifts.

On the other hand, his primitive sense of justice and right was strong

and vital, without the disintegrating finesse of pseudo-civilization. He

knew what he wanted and he did not wait for “historic inevitability” to

bring it to him: he employed direct action. The Revolution to him was a

fact of life, not a mere theory for discussion.

Thus the social revolution took place in Russia in spite of the

industrial backwardness of the country. But to make the Revolution was

not enough. It was necessary for it to advance and broaden, to develop

into economic and social reconstruction. That phase of the Revolution

necessitated fullest play of personal initiative and collective effort.

The development and success of the Revolution depended on the broadest

exercise of the creative genius of the people, on the coöperation of the

intellectual and manual proletariat. Common interest is the _leit motif_

of all revolutionary endeavour, especially on its constructive side.

This spirit of mutual purpose and solidarity swept Russia with a mighty

wave in the first days of the October-November Revolution. Inherent in

that enthusiasm were forces that could have moved mountains if

intelligently guided by exclusive consideration for the well-being of

the whole people. The medium for such effective guidance was on hand:

the labour organizations and the coöperatives with which Russia was

covered as with a network of bridges combining the city with the

country; the Soviets which sprang into being responsive to the needs of

the Russian people; and, finally, the intelligentsia whose traditions

for a century expressed heroic devotion to the cause of Russia’s

emancipation.

But such a development was by no means within the programme of the

Bolsheviki. For several months following October they suffered the

popular forces to manifest themselves, the people carrying the

Revolution into ever-widening channels. But as soon as the Communist

Party felt itself sufficiently strong in the government saddle, it began

to limit the scope of popular activity. All the succeeding acts of the

Bolsheviki, all their following policies, changes of policies, their

compromises and retreats, their methods of suppression and persecution,

their terrorism and extermination of all other political views--all were

but the _means to an end_: the retaining of the State power in the hands

of the Communist Party. Indeed, the Bolsheviki themselves (in Russia)

made no secret of it. The Communist Party, they contended, is the

advance guard of the proletariat, and the dictatorship must rest in its

hands. Alas, the Bolsheviki reckoned without their host--without the

peasantry, whom neither the _razvyortska_, the Tcheka, nor the wholesale

shooting could persuade to support the Bolshevik régime. The peasantry

became the rock upon which the best-laid plans and schemes of Lenin were

wrecked. But Lenin, a nimble acrobat, was skilled in performing within

the narrowest margin. The new economic policy was introduced just in

time to ward off the disaster which was slowly but surely overtaking the

whole Communist edifice.

II

The “new economic policy” came as a surprise and a shock to most

Communists. They saw in it a reversal of everything that their Party

had been proclaiming--a reversal of Communism itself. In protest some of

the oldest members of the Party, men who had faced danger and

persecution under the old régime while Lenin and Trotsky lived abroad in

safety, left the Communist Party embittered and disappointed. The

leaders then declared a lockout. They ordered the clearing of the Party

ranks of all “doubtful” elements. Everybody suspected of an independent

attitude and those who did not accept the new economic policy as the

last word in revolutionary wisdom were expelled. Among them were

Communists who for years had rendered most devoted service. Some of

them, hurt to the quick by the unjust and brutal procedure, and shaken

to their depths by the collapse of what they held most high, even

resorted to suicide. But the smooth sailing of Lenin’s new gospel had to

be assured, the gospel of the sanctity of private property and the

freedom of cutthroat competition erected upon the ruins of four years of

revolution.

However, Communist indignation over the new economic policy merely

indicated the confusion of mind on the part of Lenin’s opponents. What

else but mental confusion could approve of the numerous acrobatic

political stunts of Lenin and yet grow indignant at the final

somersault, its logical culmination? The trouble with the devout

Communists was that they clung to the Immaculate Conception of the

Communist State which by the aid of the Revolution was to redeem the

world. But most of the leading Communists never entertained such a

delusion. Least of all Lenin.

During my first interview I received the impression that he was a shrewd

politician who knew exactly what he was about and that he would stop at

nothing to achieve his ends. After hearing him speak on several

occasions and reading his works I became convinced that Lenin had very

little concern in the Revolution and that Communism to him was a very

remote thing. The centralized political State was Lenin’s deity, to

which everything else was to be sacrificed. Someone said that Lenin

would sacrifice the Revolution to save Russia. Lenin’s policies,

however, have proven that he was willing to sacrifice both the

Revolution and the country; or at least part of the latter, in order to

realize his political scheme with what was left of Russia.

Lenin was the most pliable politician in history. He could be an

ultra-revolutionary, a compromiser and conservative at the same time.

When like a mighty wave the cry swept over Russia, “All power to the

Soviets!” Lenin swam with the tide. When the peasants took possession of

the land and the workers of the factories, Lenin not only approved of

those direct methods but went further. He issued the famous motto, “Rob

the robbers,” a slogan which served to confuse the minds of the people

and caused untold injury to revolutionary idealism. Never before did any

real revolutionist interpret social expropriation as the transfer of

wealth from one set of individuals to another. Yet that was exactly what

Lenin’s slogan meant. The indiscriminate and irresponsible raids, the

accumulation of the wealth of the former bourgeoisie by the new Soviet

bureaucracy, the chicanery practised toward those whose only crime was

their former status, were all the results of Lenin’s “Rob the robbers”

policy. The whole subsequent history of the Revolution is a kaleidoscope

of Lenin’s compromises and betrayal of his own slogans.

Bolshevik acts and methods since the October days may seem to contradict

the new economic policy. But in reality they are links in the chain

which was to forge the all-powerful, centralized Government with State

Capitalism as its economic expression. Lenin possessed clarity of vision

and an iron will. He knew how to make his comrades in Russia and outside

of it believe that his scheme was true Socialism and his methods the

revolution. No wonder that Lenin felt such contempt for his flock, which

he never hesitated to fling into their faces. “Only fools can believe

that Communism is possible in Russia now,” was Lenin’s reply to the

opponents of the new economic policy.

As a matter of fact, Lenin was right. True Communism was never attempted

in Russia, unless one considers thirty-three categories of pay,

different food rations, privileges to some and indifference to the great

mass as Communism.

In the early period of the Revolution it was comparatively easy for the

Communist Party to possess itself of power. All the revolutionary

elements, carried away by the ultra-revolutionary promises of the

Bolsheviki, helped the latter to power. Once in possession of the State

the Communists began their process of elimination. All the political

parties and groups which refused to submit to the new dictatorship had

to go. First the Anarchists and Left Social Revolutionists, then the

Mensheviki and other opponents from the Right, and finally everybody who

dared aspire to an opinion of his own. Similar was the fate of all

independent organizations. They were either subordinated to the needs of

the new State or destroyed altogether, as were the Soviets, the trade

unions and the coöperatives--three great factors for the realization of

the hopes of the Revolution.

The Soviets first manifested themselves in the revolution of 1905. They

played an important part during that brief but significant period.

Though the revolution was crushed, the Soviet idea remained rooted in

the minds and hearts of the Russian masses. At the first dawn which

illuminated Russia in February, 1917, the Soviets revived again and came

into bloom in a very short time. To the people the Soviets by no means

represented a curtailment of the spirit of the Revolution. On the

contrary, the Revolution was to find its highest, freest practical

expression through the Soviets. That was why the Soviets so

spontaneously and rapidly spread throughout Russia. The Bolsheviki

realized the significance of the popular trend and joined the cry. But

once in control of the Government the Communists saw that the Soviets

threatened the supremacy of the State. At the same time they could not

destroy them arbitrarily without undermining their own prestige at home

and abroad as the sponsors of the Soviet system. They began to shear

them gradually of their powers and finally to subordinate them to their

own needs.

The Russian trade unions were much more amenable to emasculation.

Numerically and in point of revolutionary fibre they were still in their

childhood. By declaring adherence to the trade unions obligatory the

Russian labour organizations gained in physical stature, but mentally

they remained in the infant stage. The Communist State became the wet

nurse of the trade unions. In return, the organizations served as the

flunkeys of the State. “A school for Communism,” said Lenin in the

famous controversy on the functions of the trade unions. Quite right.

But an antiquated school where the spirit of the child is fettered and

crushed. Nowhere in the world are labour organizations as subservient to

the will and the dictates of the State as they are in Bolshevik Russia.

The fate of the coöperatives is too well known to require elucidation.

The coöperatives were the most essential link between the city and the

country. Their value to the Revolution as a popular and successful

medium of exchange and distribution and to the reconstruction of Russia

was incalculable. The Bolsheviki transformed them into cogs of the

Government machine and thereby destroyed their usefulness and

efficiency.

III

It is now clear why the Russian Revolution, as conducted by the

Communist Party, was a failure. The political power of the Party,

organized and centralized in the State, sought to maintain itself by all

means at hand. The central authorities attempted to force the activities

of the people into forms corresponding with the purposes of the Party.

The sole aim of the latter was to strengthen the State and monopolize

all economical, political, and social activities--even all cultural

manifestations. The Revolution had an entirely different object, and in

its very character it was the negation of authority and centralization.

It strove to open ever-larger fields for proletarian expression and to

multiply the phases of individual and collective effort. The aims and

tendencies of the Revolution were diametrically opposed to those of the

ruling political party.

Just as diametrically opposed were the _methods_ of the Revolution and

of the State. Those of the former were inspired by the spirit of the

Revolution itself: that is to say, by emancipation from all oppressive

and limiting forces; in short, _by libertarian principles_. The methods

of the State, on the contrary--of the Bolshevik State as of every

government--were based on _coercion_, which in the course of things

necessarily developed into systematic violence, oppression, and

terrorism. Thus two opposing tendencies struggled for supremacy: the

Bolshevik State against the Revolution. That struggle was a

life-and-death struggle. The two tendencies, contradictory in aims and

methods, could not work harmoniously: the triumph of the State meant the

defeat of the Revolution.

It would be an error to assume that the failure of the Revolution was

due entirely to the character of the Bolsheviki. Fundamentally, it was

the result of the principles and methods of Bolshevism. It was the

authoritarian spirit and principles of the State which stifled the

libertarian and liberating aspirations. Were any other political party

in control of the government in Russia the result would have been

essentially the same. It is not so much the Bolsheviki who killed the

Russian Revolution as the Bolshevik idea. It was Marxism, however

modified; in short, fanatical governmentalism. Only this understanding

of the underlying forces that crushed the Revolution can present the

true lesson of that world-stirring event. The Russian Revolution

reflects on a small scale the century-old struggle of the libertarian

principle against the authoritarian. For what is progress if not the

more general acceptance of the principles of liberty as against those of

coercion? The Russian Revolution was a libertarian step defeated by the

Bolshevik State, by the temporary victory of the reactionary, the

governmental idea.

That victory was due to a number of causes. Most of them have already

been dealt with in the preceding chapters. The main cause, however, was

not the industrial backwardness of Russia, as claimed by many writers on

the subject. That cause was cultural which, though giving the Russian

people certain advantages over their more sophisticated neighbours, also

had some fatal disadvantages. The Russian was “culturally backward” in

the sense of being unspoiled by political and parliamentary corruption.

On the other hand, that very condition involved inexperience in the

political game and a naïve faith in the miraculous power of the party

that talked the loudest and made the most promises. This faith in the

power of government served to enslave the Russian people to the

Communist Party even before the great masses realized that the yoke had

been put around their necks.

The libertarian principle was strong in the initial days of the

Revolution, the need for free expression all-absorbing. But when the

first wave of enthusiasm receded into the ebb of everyday prosaic life,

a firm conviction was needed to keep the fires of liberty burning. There

was only a comparative handful in the great vastness of Russia to keep

those fires lit--the Anarchists, whose number was small and whose

efforts, absolutely suppressed under the Tsar, had had no time to bear

fruit. The Russian people, to some extent instinctive Anarchists, were

yet too unfamiliar with true libertarian principles and methods to apply

them effectively to life. Most of the Russian Anarchists themselves were

unfortunately still in the meshes of limited group activities and of

individualistic endeavour as against the more important social and

collective efforts. The Anarchists, the future unbiased historian will

admit, have played a very important rôle in the Russian Revolution--a

rôle far more significant and fruitful than their comparatively small

number would have led one to expect. Yet honesty and sincerity compel me

to state that their work would have been of infinitely greater practical

value had they been better organized and equipped to guide the released

energies of the people toward the reorganization of life on a

libertarian foundation.

But the failure of the Anarchists in the Russian Revolution--in the

sense just indicated--does by no means argue the defeat of the

libertarian idea. On the contrary, the Russian Revolution has

demonstrated beyond doubt that the State idea, State Socialism, in all

its manifestations (economic, political, social, educational) is

entirely and hopelessly bankrupt. Never before in all history has

authority, government, the State, proved so inherently static,

reactionary, and even counter-revolutionary in effect. In short, the

very antithesis of revolution.

It remains true, as it has through all progress, that only the

libertarian spirit and method can bring man a step further in his

eternal striving for the better, finer, and freer life. Applied to the

great social upheavals known as revolutions, this tendency is as potent

as in the ordinary evolutionary process. The authoritarian method has

been a failure all through history and now it has again failed in the

Russian Revolution. So far human ingenuity has discovered no other

principle except the libertarian, for man has indeed uttered the highest

wisdom when he said that liberty is the mother of order, not its

daughter. All political tenets and parties notwithstanding, no

revolution can be truly and permanently successful unless it puts its

emphatic veto upon all tyranny and centralization, and determinedly

strives to make the revolution a real revaluation of all economic,

social, and cultural values. Not mere substitution of one political

party for another in the control of the Government, not the masking of

autocracy by proletarian slogans, not the dictatorship of a new class

over an old one, not political scene shifting of any kind, but the

complete reversal of all these authoritarian principles will alone serve

the revolution.

In the economic field this transformation must be in the hands of the

industrial masses: the latter have the choice between an industrial

State and anarcho-syndicalism. In the case of the former the menace to

the constructive development of the new social structure would be as

great as from the political State. It would become a dead weight upon

the growth of the new forms of life. For that very reason syndicalism

(or industrialism) alone is not, as its exponents claim, sufficient unto

itself. It is only when the libertarian spirit permeates the economic

organizations of the workers that the manifold creative energies of the

people can manifest themselves, and the revolution be safeguarded and

defended. Only free initiative and popular participation in the affairs

of the revolution can prevent the terrible blunders committed in Russia.

For instance, with fuel only a hundred versts [about sixty-six miles]

from Petrograd there would have been no necessity for that city to

suffer from cold had the workers’ economic organizations of Petrograd

been free to exercise their initiative for the common good. The peasants

of the Ukraina would not have been hampered in the cultivation of their

land had they had access to the farm implements stacked up in the

warehouses of Kharkov and other industrial centres awaiting orders from

Moscow for their distribution. These are characteristic examples of

Bolshevik governmentalism and centralization, which should serve as a

warning to the workers of Europe and America of the destructive effects

of Statism.

The industrial power of the masses, expressed through their libertarian

associations--Anarcho-syndicalism--is alone able to organize

successfully the economic life and carry on production. On the other

hand, the coöperatives, working in harmony with the industrial bodies,

serve as the distributing and exchange media between city and country,

and at the same time link in fraternal bond the industrial and agrarian

masses. A common tie of mutual service and aid is created which is the

strongest bulwark of the revolution--far more effective then compulsory

labour, the Red Army, or terrorism. In that way alone can revolution act

as a leaven to quicken the development of new social forms and inspire

the masses to greater achievements.

But libertarian industrial organizations and the coöperatives are not

the only media in the interplay of the complex phases of social life.

There are the cultural forces which, though closely related to the

economic activities, have yet their own functions to perform. In Russia

the Communist State became the sole arbiter of all the needs of the

social body. The result, as already described, was complete cultural

stagnation and the paralysis of all creative endeavour. If such a

débâcle is to be avoided in the future, the cultural forces, while

remaining rooted in the economic soil, must yet retain independent scope

and freedom of expression. Not adherence to the dominant political party

but devotion to the revolution, knowledge, ability, and--above all--the

creative impulse should be the criterion of fitness for cultural work.

In Russia this was made impossible almost from the beginning of the

October Revolution, by the violent separation of the intelligentsia and

the masses. It is true that the original offender in this case was the

intelligentsia, especially the technical intelligentsia, which in Russia

tenaciously clung--as it does in other countries--to the coat-tails of

the bourgeoisie. This element, unable to comprehend the significance of

revolutionary events, strove to stem the tide by wholesale sabotage. But

in Russia there was also another kind of intelligentsia--one with a

glorious revolutionary past of a hundred years. That part of the

intelligentsia kept faith with the people, though it could not

unreservedly accept the new dictatorship. The fatal error of the

Bolsheviki was that they made no distinction between the two elements.

They met sabotage with wholesale terror against the intelligentsia as a

class, and inaugurated a campaign of hatred more intensive than the

persecution of the bourgeoisie itself--a method which created an abyss

between the intelligentsia and the proletariat and reared a barrier

against constructive work.

Lenin was the first to realize that criminal blunder. He pointed out

that it was a grave error to lead the workers to believe that they could

build up the industries and engage in cultural work without the aid and

coöperation of the intelligentsia. The proletariat had neither the

knowledge nor the training for the task, and the intelligentsia had to

be restored in the direction of the industrial life. But the recognition

of one error never safeguarded Lenin and his Party from immediately

committing another. The technical intelligentsia was called back on

terms which added disintegration to the antagonism against the régime.

While the workers continued to starve, engineers, industrial experts,

and technicians received high salaries, special privileges, and the best

rations. They became the pampered employees of the State and the new

slave drivers of the masses. The latter, fed for years on the fallacious

teachings that muscle alone is necessary for a successful revolution

and that only physical labour is productive, and incited by the campaign

of hatred which stamped every intellectual a counter-revolutionist and

speculator, could not make peace with those they had been taught to

scorn and distrust.

Unfortunately Russia is not the only country where this proletarian

attitude against the intelligentsia prevails. Everywhere political

demagogues play upon the ignorance of the masses, teach them that

education and culture are bourgeois prejudices, that the workers can do

without them, and that they alone are able to rebuild society. The

Russian Revolution has made it very clear that both brain and muscle are

indispensable to the work of social regeneration. Intellectual and

physical labour are as closely related in the social body as brain and

hand in the human organism. One cannot function without the other.

It is true that most intellectuals consider themselves a class apart

from and superior to the workers, but social conditions everywhere are

fast demolishing the high pedestal of the intelligentsia. They are made

to see that they, too, are proletarians, even more dependent upon the

economic master than the manual worker. Unlike the physical

proletarian, who can pick up his tools and tramp the world in search of

a change from a galling situation, the intellectual proletarians have

their roots more firmly in their particular social environment and

cannot so easily change their occupation or mode of living. It is

therefore of utmost importance to bring home to the workers the rapid

proletarization of the intellectuals and the common tie thus created

between them. If the Western world is to profit by the lessons of

Russia, the demagogic flattery of the masses and blind antagonism toward

the intelligentsia must cease. That does not mean, however, that the

toilers should depend entirely upon the intellectual element. On the

contrary, the masses must begin right now to prepare and equip

themselves for the great task the revolution will put upon them. They

should acquire the knowledge and technical skill necessary for managing

and directing the intricate mechanism of the industrial and social

structure of their respective countries. But even at best the workers

will need the coöperation of the professional and cultural elements.

Similarly the latter must realize that their true interests are

identical with those of the masses. Once the two social forces learn to

blend into one harmonious whole, the tragic aspects of the Russian

Revolution would to a great extent be eliminated. No one would be shot

because he “once acquired an education.” The scientist, the engineer,

the specialist, the investigator, the educator, and the creative artist,

as well as the carpenter, machinist, and the rest, are all part and

parcel of the collective force which is to shape the revolution into the

great architect of the new social edifice. Not hatred, but unity; not

antagonism, but fellowship; not shooting, but sympathy--that is the

lesson of the great Russian débâcle for the intelligentsia as well as

the workers. All must learn the value of mutual aid and libertarian

coöperation. Yet each must be able to remain independent in his own

sphere and in harmony with the best he can yield to society. Only in

that way will productive labour and educational and cultural endeavour

express themselves in ever newer and richer forms. That is to me the

all-embracing and vital moral taught by the Russian Revolution.

IV

In the previous pages I have tried to point out why Bolshevik

principles, methods, and tactics failed, and that similar principles

and methods applied in any other country, even of the highest

industrial development, must also fail. I have further shown that it is

not only Bolshevism that failed, but Marxism itself. That is to say, the

STATE IDEA, the _authoritarian principle_, has been proven bankrupt by

the experience of the Russian Revolution. If I were to sum up my whole

argument in one sentence I should say: The inherent tendency of the

State is to concentrate, to narrow, and monopolize all social

activities; the nature of revolution is, on the contrary, to grow, to

broaden, and disseminate itself in ever-wider circles. In other words,

the State is institutional and static; revolution is fluent, dynamic.

These two tendencies are incompatible and mutually destructive. The

State idea killed the Russian Revolution and it must have the same

result in all other revolutions, unless the _libertarian idea prevail_.

Yet I go much further. It is not only Bolshevism, Marxism, and

Governmentalism which are fatal to revolution as well as to all vital

human progress. The main cause of the defeat of the Russian Revolution

lies much deeper. It is to be found in the whole Socialist conception of

revolution itself.

The dominant, almost general, idea of revolution--particularly the

Socialist idea--is that revolution is a violent change of social

conditions through which one social class, the working class, becomes

dominant over another class, the capitalist class. It is the conception

of a purely physical change, and as such it involves only political

scene shifting and institutional rearrangements. Bourgeois dictatorship

is replaced by the “dictatorship of the proletariat”--or by that of its

“advance guard,” the Communist Party; Lenin takes the seat of the

Romanovs, the Imperial Cabinet is rechristened Soviet of People’s

Commissars, Trotsky is appointed Minister of War, and a labourer becomes

the Military Governor General of Moscow. That is, in essence, the

Bolshevik conception of revolution, as translated into actual practice.

And with a few minor alterations it is also the idea of revolution held

by all other Socialist parties.

This conception is inherently and fatally false. Revolution is indeed a

violent process. But if it is to result only in a change of

dictatorship, in a shifting of names and political personalities, then

it is hardly worth while. It is surely not worth all the struggle and

sacrifice, the stupendous loss in human life and cultural values that

result from every revolution. If such a revolution were even to bring

greater social well being (which has not been the case in Russia) then

it would also not be worth the terrific price paid: mere improvement can

be brought about without bloody revolution. It is not palliatives or

reforms that are the real aim and purpose of revolution, as I conceive

it.

In my opinion--a thousandfold strengthened by the Russian

experience--the great mission of revolution, of the SOCIAL REVOLUTION,

is a _fundamental transvaluation of values_. A transvaluation not only

of social, but also of human values. The latter are even preëminent, for

they are the basis of all social values. Our institutions and conditions

rest upon deep-seated ideas. To change those conditions and at the same

time leave the underlying ideas and values intact means only a

superficial transformation, one that cannot be permanent or bring real

betterment. It is a change of form only, not of substance, as so

tragically proven by Russia.

It is at once the great failure and the great tragedy of the Russian

Revolution that it attempted (in the leadership of the ruling political

party) to change only institutions and conditions while ignoring

entirely the human and social values involved in the Revolution. Worse

yet, in its mad passion for power, the Communist State even sought to

strengthen and deepen the very ideas and conceptions which the

Revolution had come to destroy. It supported and encouraged all the

worst anti-social qualities and systematically destroyed the already

awakened conception of the new revolutionary values. The sense

of justice and equality, the love of liberty and of human

brotherhood--these fundamentals of the real regeneration of society--the

Communist State suppressed to the point of extermination. Man’s

instinctive sense of equity was branded as weak sentimentality; human

dignity and liberty became a bourgeois superstition; the sanctity of

life, which is the very essence of social reconstruction, was condemned

as un-revolutionary, almost counter-revolutionary. This fearful

perversion of fundamental values bore within itself the seed of

destruction. With the conception that the Revolution was only a means of

securing political power, it was inevitable that all revolutionary

values should be subordinated to the needs of the Socialist State;

indeed, exploited to further the security of the newly acquired

governmental power. “Reasons of State,” masked as the “interests of the

Revolution and of the People,” became the sole criterion of action,

even of feeling. Violence, the tragic inevitability of revolutionary

upheavals, became an established custom, a habit, and was presently

enthroned as the most powerful and “ideal” institution. Did not Zinoviev

himself canonize Dzerzhinsky, the head of the bloody Tcheka, as the

“saint of the Revolution”? Were not the greatest public honours paid by

the State to Uritsky, the founder and sadistic chief of the Petrograd

Tcheka?

This perversion of the ethical values soon crystallized into the

all-dominating slogan of the Communist Party: THE END JUSTIFIES ALL

MEANS. Similarly in the past the Inquisition and the Jesuits adopted

this motto and subordinated to it all morality. It avenged itself upon

the Jesuits as it did upon the Russian Revolution. In the wake of this

slogan followed lying, deceit, hypocrisy and treachery, murder, open and

secret. It should be of utmost interest to students of social psychology

that two movements as widely separated in time and ideas as Jesuitism

and Bolshevism _reached exactly similar results_ in the evolution of the

principle that the end justifies all means. The historic parallel,

almost entirely ignored so far, contains a most important lesson for all

coming revolutions and for the whole future of mankind.

There is no greater fallacy than the belief that aims and purposes are

one thing, while methods and tactics are another. This conception is a

potent menace to social regeneration. All human experience teaches that

methods and means cannot be separated from the ultimate aim. The means

employed become, through individual habit and social practice, part and

parcel of the final purpose; they influence it, modify it, and presently

the aims and means become identical. From the day of my arrival in

Russia I felt it, at first vaguely, then ever more consciously and

clearly. The great and inspiring aims of the Revolution became so

clouded with and obscured by the methods used by the ruling political

power that it was hard to distinguish what was temporary means and what

final purpose. Psychologically and socially the means necessarily

influence and alter the aims. The whole history of man is continuous

proof of the maxim that to divest one’s methods of ethical concepts

means to sink into the depths of utter demoralization. In that lies the

real tragedy of the Bolshevik philosophy as applied to the Russian

Revolution. May this lesson not be in vain.

No revolution can ever succeed as a factor of liberation unless the

MEANS used to further it be identical in spirit and tendency with the

PURPOSES to be achieved. Revolution is the negation of the existing, a

violent protest against man’s inhumanity to man with all the thousand

and one slaveries it involves. It is the destroyer of dominant values

upon which a complex system of injustice, oppression, and wrong has been

built up by ignorance and brutality. It is the herald of NEW VALUES,

ushering in a transformation of the basic relations of man to man, and

of man to society. It is not a mere reformer, patching up some social

evils; not a mere changer of forms and institutions; not only a

re-distributor of social well-being. It is all that, yet more, much

more. It is, first and foremost, the TRANSVALUATOR, the bearer of _new_

values. It is the great TEACHER of the NEW ETHICS, inspiring man with a

new concept of life and its manifestations in social relationships. It

is the mental and spiritual regenerator.

Its first ethical precept is the identity of means used and aims sought.

The ultimate end of all revolutionary social change is to establish the

sanctity of human life, the dignity of man, the right of every human

being to liberty and well-being. Unless this be the essential aim of

revolution, violent social changes would have no justification. For

_external_ social alterations can be, and have been, accomplished by the

normal processes of evolution. Revolution, on the contrary, signifies

not mere _external_ change, but _internal_, basic, fundamental change.

That internal change of concepts and ideas, permeating ever-larger

social strata, finally culminates in the violent upheaval known as

revolution. Shall that climax reverse the process of transvaluation,

turn against it, betray it? That is what happened in Russia. On the

contrary, the revolution itself must quicken and further the process of

which it is the cumulative expression; its main mission is to inspire

it, to carry it to greater heights, give it fullest scope for

expression. Only thus is revolution true to itself.

Applied in practice it means that the period of the actual revolution,

the so-called transitory stage, must be the introduction, the prelude to

the new social conditions. It is the threshold to the NEW LIFE, the new

HOUSE OF MAN AND HUMANITY. As such it must be of the spirit of the new

life, harmonious with the construction of the new edifice.

To-day is the parent of to-morrow. The present casts its shadow far into

the future. That is the law of life, individual and social. Revolution

that divests itself of ethical values thereby lays the foundation of

injustice, deceit, and oppression for the future society. The _means_

used to _prepare_ the future become its _cornerstone_. Witness the

tragic condition of Russia. The methods of State centralization have

paralysed individual initiative and effort; the tyranny of the

dictatorship has cowed the people into slavish submission and all but

extinguished the fires of liberty; organized terrorism has depraved and

brutalized the masses and stifled every idealistic aspiration;

institutionalized murder has cheapened human life, and all sense of the

dignity of man and the value of life has been eliminated; coercion at

every step has made effort bitter, labour a punishment, has turned the

whole of existence into a scheme of mutual deceit, and has revived the

lowest and most brutal instincts of man. A sorry heritage to begin a new

life of freedom and brotherhood.

It cannot be sufficiently emphasized that revolution is in vain unless

inspired by its ultimate ideal. Revolutionary methods must be in tune

with revolutionary aims. The means used to further the revolution must

harmonize with its purposes. In short, the ethical values which the

revolution is to establish in the new society must be _initiated_ with

the revolutionary activities of the so-called transitional period. The

latter can serve as a real and dependable bridge to the better life only

if built of the same material as the life to be achieved. Revolution is

the mirror of the coming day; it is the child that is to be the Man of

To-morrow.

THE END

FOOTNOTES:

[A] Political bureaus.

[B] Armed units organized by the Bolsheviki for the purpose of

suppressing traffic and confiscating foodstuffs.

[C] Individual small-scale.

[D] Happy villagers and their model homes, specially prepared and shown

to Catherine the Great by her Prime Minister Potemkin to deceive her

about the true condition of the peasantry.

My further disillusionment in Russia · 第 12 / 12 章