CHAPTER XXIII

LENINISM: THE DESIGN OF THE BOLSHEVIKS

No matter what promises the Bolsheviks enter into with Great Britain,

they will not abandon the active prosecution of their plans for

revolutionizing the world. These plans are an essential part of their

theory, and for us to expect the Communists to give them up would be

like the Communists expecting us to give up our theory and practice of

ministerial responsibility.

The Bolsheviks hold that mankind is divided not into nationalities but

into two classes, the Proletariat and the Parasites. Such of them as have

had some education admit, however, that unfortunately in the benighted

capitalistic States outside Russia many of the proletariat are at present

working as slaves and instruments of the parasitic classes, being drugged

and stupefied by patriotism, religion, and a _bourgeois_ education

ingeniously designed by the capitalists to make them contented with their

servile lot. When these deluded workers have been enlightened they will

see that their place is not with the capitalists but with the people.

Such, in short, is the Bolshevik contention.

Carlyle describes in a well-known passage how a dozen French peasants

are taken by their Government, put into gay clothes, armed, drilled, and

sent out to kill a dozen German peasants who have been put through a

similar process by _their_ war-lords. A Bolshevik official, who greatly

appreciates this piece of literature, told me once that the Communist

idea is to arm all the peasants and workers of the world, but to make

them then turn their rifles on their respective oppressors, the kings and

capitalists of their own lands, and, having abolished these, to shake

hands all round in token of perpetual peace.

This simple theory has gripped the Bolshevik mind in Russia, as if it

were a Divine revelation, and its ready acceptance is probably due to

several conditions peculiar to that country—the simplicity and ignorance

of the people, the ascetic and mystical traits in their national

character, their misgovernment in the past, their profound love of peace,

their sufferings in the war, and their conviction, implanted and fostered

by an able but mendacious propaganda, that the workers of the world are

following in their footsteps, though their efforts have not, as yet, been

crowned with quite the same success. Another condition peculiar to Russia

is the feebly developed nationalistic sense of the people. Most of them

have as little idea of a _patria_ as the average Gaul had in the time

of Cæsar, and I have heard of many Russians who did not know that they

themselves were Russian, their imagination having never travelled beyond

the confines of their native province.

Knowing the existence of this state of things, I was not surprised,

consequently, when we were captured at Krasnoyarsk, to find that the

soldiers of the Red Army were indifferent as to our nationality, and

were only anxious to know which of their two categories we belonged to.

We were never once asked for our passports, such tokens of nationality

being regarded as antique lumber, which all mankind was throwing on the

scrap-heap as fast as it could along with crowns and croziers. There was

pained surprise when the private soldiers in our party did not, on being

released by capture from their military “servitude,” join their natural

friends the Bolsheviks joyfully and at once, but remained voluntarily

with their natural enemies, us, their officers.

The Irish soldiers amongst us were not treated differently from the

others, because the Bolsheviks who captured us had never heard of

Ireland, but later I found that the leading Bolsheviks were favourably

disposed towards the Irish, whom they regarded as disinterested agitators

with a genuine sense of grievance and with a considerable practice in

agitation since the days of Parnell.

These Communist leaders expect much help from disgruntled nationalities

outside Russia; hence the support they give to nationalist movements

abroad, and the great sympathy they express for them in every issue of

their newspapers. But if those movements succeeded, the Bolsheviks would

be the first to undermine the resultant nationalist Governments in order

to clear the way for Soviets. Many similar instances of dishonesty on the

part of the Bolsheviks could be given. They manifest, for instance, great

sympathy with strikers abroad, yet they not only crush strikers at home,

but, owing to their complete control of the Press, are able to cover

them with moral obloquy as well, by denouncing them as traitors bought

by foreign capitalists. Workmen so accused have no means of publicly

refuting these charges. Such a case happened recently when a strike

occurred on the Moscow-Kursk railway. They turn a moist eye towards the

“enslaved” British workman, yet treat a deserter from the labour army as

a deserter from the fighting army at the Front is treated in war-time.

A ring of Soviets all round the world is their ideal, but circumstances

have rendered their present policy complex. Though anti-nationalist

themselves, they have been assisted in their struggle against Kolchak,

Denikin, and the Poles by a nationalist movement among the Russians who

saw that practically all the Red Army was Russian, while Kolchak, for

example, though professedly nationalist and ultra-Russian, was assisted

to such an extent by British, French, Italians, Americans, Japanese,

Chinese, Poles, Serbs, Czechs, and Letts, that his enterprise was

described as an invasion of Russia by a gang of international capitalists.

Lenin knows more about conditions in the outer world than the simple folk

who captured us at Krasnoyarsk, but he knows much less than he is given

credit for in this country. He is a fanatical believer in his own dogma

of internationalism—or, more properly speaking, anti-nationalism and

cosmopolitanism—and in the duty incumbent on him of preaching this dogma

to all peoples.

In speaking of this man many Englishmen seem to form in their minds

the picture of a statesman who will act as they themselves would act

if they were in his position. They think that the responsibilities of

office must sober and modify him as they would sober and modify an

English Socialist. They believe that his extremist utterances are mere

popular clap-trap such as an English politician sometimes indulges in for

electioneering purposes, that he must “play up” to the impossible demands

of his party, but that, when it comes to practical politics, he is bound

to display moderation and common sense.

Such Englishmen do not know Lenin. They read their own character into

that of the Communist leader, and attribute to him an English mentality

and training which he has not got. There is in Lenin and in the

whole Communist party a good deal of that inflexibility, narrowness,

intolerance, and fanaticism which we associate with the Eastern Church;

and I might add, by the way, that if Bolshevism continues in power for a

few years longer, it will inevitably become a dead and mummified system,

a mechanical, devitalized structure such as I believe official Orthodoxy

to be.

The meticulous care which the Bolsheviks take to prevent foreign

literature and non-Bolshevik foreigners from disturbing the belief of

their neophytes in the Bolshevik faith, reminds one of the care taken

by Pobydonostsev, the Procurator of the Most Holy Synod. The mentality

in both cases is the same, though the object is different. No mistress

of novices in a convent could be more careful than the head of the

Extraordinary Commission to prevent bad, breezy men from the outer

world from “blowing in” among the innocent novices, and shaking by

profane laughter their delicately poised faith. A full description of

these minute precautions would be amusing, but it would be too long a

digression. What I have said, however, will show what a mistake it would

be for us to think that these people can modify their programme. To

think so is to attribute to the Bolsheviks the character of an English

political party. Bolshevism has been called “inverted Tsarism,” but it

might also be described as “inverted Christianity,” for whereas the

Founder of Christianity sacrificed Himself for the World, the founders of

Bolshevism are, like the first Mohammedans, ready to sacrifice all the

rest of the world if it does not accept their creed.

Lenin himself impressed me as having all the characteristics of a

fanatical Byzantine monk. He has narrowness, intolerance, asceticism, a

fixed idea, and an incapacity to change. Later I came across a similar

view of him in Landau-Aldanov’s “Lenin und der Bolschewismus” (Berlin,

1920). The Russian Socialist writer says that “some of the Bolsheviks,

and perhaps some of the best of them, have the mentality and the entire

psychology of monks. Had he lived some centuries earlier, Lenin himself

might have made an excellent Jesuit.” Landau-Aldanov goes on to institute

a comparison between the hair-splitting of the Greek theologians at the

Œcumenical Council of Constantinople and the hair-splitting of Lenin,

Martov, and other Bolshevik ideologues at the Second Congress of the

Social Democratic party in August, 1903. He does not strengthen his case,

however, by dragging in Captain Pascal, an officer of the French Mission

in Moscow and formerly a Catholic priest, who has now become a Bolshevik.

“Dostoievsky tells us in one of his novels of an atheist who blew out all

the candles in front of his holy _ikons_, replaced the _ikons_ by the

works of anti-Christian philosophers like Buechner and Moleschott, and,

having done so, piously lighted the candles again. This expresses exactly

what the Reds have done. Yesterday they believed blindly in St. Nicholas

the Wonder-worker; to-day they have transferred the same unreasoning

faith to Karl Marx; and their scientific superstition of to-day is as

childish as was their religious superstition of yesterday.”

Though he has travelled abroad, Lenin has lived, even abroad, in a

close revolutionary atmosphere, which is, after all, a very narrowing

atmosphere. He brooded over his own ideas, exchanged views with people

who were much of the same way of thinking as himself, and entered into

controversy only with Mensheviks, Anarchists, and other theorists who are

even further removed from the realities of life than he is. His ignorance

of conditions in England is therefore very great. His manner of life has

deprived his mind of all flexibility, and imparted to his utterances

a pontifical character which would not be tolerated for a moment in

political circles anywhere outside Russia.

The Russian newspapers are filled daily with interminable dissertations

on abstruse socialistic subjects from his pen or from the pens of other

prophets of Bolshevism, and the style of these lucubrations bears some

resemblance, in respect at least of extreme aridity, to the interminable

treatises on obscure theological questions which were popular in Europe

during the religious ferment of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.

Instead of quotations from pious divines and from the Early Fathers, they

are full of ponderous passages from German professors, who are apparently

regarded by the Communists as infallible authorities. And in the same way

that some English congregations of the post-Reformation period delighted

in sermons lasting three or four hours, so the Bolsheviks delight in

endless speeches on abstruse socialistic subjects, of which most of them

can understand only very little.

But amid all this confusion and obscurity there remains clear the fixed

idea of “internationalism” or anti-nationalism whereof Lenin is the

Prophet. He has passed most of his life in poverty and exile on account

of it. He is now wading towards it through blood. It would be a mistake,

therefore, to think that he will ever really surrender it—though he

may promise to do so for the sake of getting locomotives and machinery

from us. He has made this perfectly clear in hundreds of speeches and

newspaper articles; if we think otherwise, he has a perfect right to say

that he has not deceived us, that we have deceived ourselves. He has

warned us not only in his public utterances, but by his actions, that he

will not keep any promises he makes to capitalist States, and that he

will use any methods and accept help from any quarters in order to attain

his ends. He accepted help from the Kaiser in 1918 in order to contribute

afterwards towards the Kaiser’s overthrow; and he has frequently boasted

that when he made peace with Germany at Brest-Litovsk, and promised to

cease his revolutionary propaganda in Germany, he never meant to observe

the conditions of that peace and did not observe them in so far as they

related to propaganda.

This is not his policy alone, but that of all his party, which admits

that it has always acted on it and always will act on it. In his pamphlet

on the “Bolshevik Party,” Radek, an authoritative spokesman of the

Communists, says that the Bolsheviks supported the agitation for a Duma

in 1905, not because they wanted to keep a Duma in existence, but because

they were convinced that it would be a ladder which would enable them to

reach their goal, and which they could then kick away. The same pamphlet

and all the recent literature of the Bolsheviks are full of similar

admissions of dishonesty.

After peace was concluded with Esthonia, Lenin said in effect:

We have acknowledged the _bourgeois_ Government of Esthonia.

We have given it money and concessions and territory and all

the other playthings that a Capitalist State hankers after,

because we are perfectly sure of our ability to undermine the

foundations on which it stands. We will work silently and

tirelessly among its working classes, and it is only a question

of time when the whole fabric will come tumbling down. Esthonia

is now in the Kerensky stage, but, as surely as sunrise follows

darkness, so surely will the Communist stage follow the

Kerensky and the Esthonian workers establish a Soviet republic.

It may be taken for granted, therefore, that, no matter what promises

Lenin makes, he will not cease to encourage Bolshevik propaganda in the

British Empire.

The danger of this propaganda consists in the idea of internationalism

which I have explained above, and which might better perhaps be called

anti-nationalism or anationalistic class war. This theory enables the

Bolsheviks to find accomplices and allies in the most unexpected places

outside Russia—in battleships, wireless stations, military barracks,

post-offices, consulates, palatial hotels, and mansions. The result is

that no one holding a responsible position in a non-Bolshevik country

can be sure that he has not in his employ an embittered subordinate,

sometimes with a genuine grievance against society and a genuine belief

in Communism as a cure for all the ills of the world, but more frequently

aggrieved because of a natural incapacity which education does not and

cannot remedy. Such a man may feel that his place is with the all-world

proletariat and not with the mixture of classes which compose his

particular country, so that, if not actually working for the Bolsheviks,

he may be quite ready to work for them if the opportunity presents itself.

I know nothing of present conditions in this country (Great Britain)

owing to my long absence from it, but this danger is manifest on the

Continent, and especially in the countries which lie near Russia. There

is a leakage of official information in the Finnish, Scandinavian, and

Polish posts, telegraphs and hotels, and even in some of the foreign

consulates and legations, where non-Britishers have to be employed. One

such case of leakage that I know of was suspected to have taken place

in a foreign consulate in Warsaw. The position in Finland is especially

bad from this point of view, owing to the accentuation of class

differences by the arming of the middle classes and the disarming of the

working classes, a measure which has been of enormous assistance to the

“Internationalist” propaganda in that country.

Even here in London the establishment of a Bolshevik embassy with the Red

flag flying over it might have anything but a tranquillizing effect on a

section of our working classes. Workmen and private soldiers, who would

be incapable of feeling any sympathy with a foreign nation which attacked

England, might, in some cases, sympathize with what Chicherin calls “the

Government of the Poor and of the Oppressed.” You will notice from this

phrase how Bolshevism has stolen the thunder of Christianity. Thus one

of the principal Bolshevik newspapers is called _Bednota_ (Poverty).

Lunacharsky, the Bolshevik Minister of the Fine Arts, has maintained

in numberless discourses delivered in Russia that Christ was the first

Bolshevik, and that the early Christians were the first Communists.

Even anti-Bolsheviks have expressed astonishment at Lenin’s choice of

“such a dangerous clerical”; but doubtless Lenin knew, when he made the

appointment, that a Modernist like Lunacharsky is a far more dangerous

enemy to Christianity than a violent unbeliever. He was still engaged in

this campaign when I was in Moscow in the spring, and I think that, in

the opinion of the simple Russians who heard him, he had the advantage

of the learned theologians who ventured to dispute his theory. A drift

towards religious anarchy has long been characteristic of the Russians,

as may be seen by a study of their literature for the last fifty years.

It has been counteracted by a powerful ecclesiastical organization, but

the Bolsheviks have now stopped the machinery of that organization, and

are undermining all confidence in it by a series of carefully conducted

exposures in connection with bogus relics of saints, etc.

Even if the Bolshevik succeeded in establishing Soviet republics all over

the world, they could not succeed in eliminating national feeling and

war, for, in this as in other matters, they are fighting against human

nature. But even their temporary success would, I think, do irreparable

harm to our civilization. And it would be foolish to ignore the fact

that their theory does contain a seductive appeal to that large number

of people in every land who are convinced that they have never had a

fair chance owing to the faulty construction of the society in which

they live. The seductiveness of that appeal is increased by the most

ingenious devices. If a Bolshevik embassy comes to London, it will not

only fly the Red flag, signifying the triumph of the proletariat, but

it will use on its official notepaper and on all its stamps the crest

of the Republic—a crossed hammer and reaping-hook, symbolical of the

union of peasants and workers. If the Bolshevik trade unions and other

organizations send deputations to this country, they will also use seals

which are in all cases humble implements of manual labour. A Bolshevik

official once pointed out to me with pride that the Communists had thrown

into the scrap-heap the lions and eagles, swords and battle-axes, and all

the other emblems of ferocity and slaughter in which the old heraldry

delighted, and had substituted for them “the poor, crooked scythe and

spade.” In his opinion—the comparison is sacrilegious, but we must know

the views of the other side in order to combat them—the world has entered

on a phase such as that which began when a gibbet replaced the Roman

eagles as the emblem under which the most important portion of humanity

marched.

The Bolsheviks have, of course, no right to a monopoly of those emblems,

which were chosen for them by clever literary men who have never done

manual labour in their lives, but many people are misled by symbols.

All pictorial advertisement is based on this weakness in the logical

powers of the human mind. An advertisement containing a picture of a

fat baby and a eulogy of somebody’s patent food establishes in the mind

of the average woman a connection between the fatness of the baby and

the nutritive value of the food, though no such connection necessarily

exists; and the Bolsheviks, who are extremely up to date in many of their

methods, act continually and with great success on this principle in all

their propaganda. The pictorial propaganda which raised the Kitchener

Army is elementary in comparison with the propaganda which raised the Red

Army, and this latter propaganda is only one manifestation of a system

carefully and scientifically constructed by men of considerable artistic

talent and with a profound knowledge of Russian, and indeed of world,

psychology.

This sort of deception is easier when, as is the case at present, a sort

of madness has seized upon men’s minds, as has happened on one or two

occasions in the past history of Europe. On such occasions all opinions

and beliefs seem to become, so to speak, liquefied or molten, and the

mind of the world is ready to take the imprint of any new stamp that is

applied to it. When this period of liquefaction has passed, opinions

harden again either in the new mould or in the old mould. The Reformation

and the French Revolution are cases in point. The former established the

principle of private judgment and maimed the system of an international

Church. The latter established the rule of the _bourgeoisie_ and made the

heads of states their servants. According to the contention of Lenin and

his followers who, to do them justice, are close students of past history

and take a wide survey of it, the proletariat have now as much right to

subjugate the middle classes as the latter had in the seventeenth and

eighteenth centuries to subjugate the nobility and heads of states. All

the Bolshevik literature now being published emphasizes this point. Lenin

cannot see how England, which allowed the right of private judgment to

her middle classes in the seventeenth century, and allowed every kind of

Reformist literature to enter the country, can now deny the right of

private judgment to her lower classes and prevent Bolshevik publications

from circulating among them. The Bolshevik leader knows that, as the

present period of liquefaction will not last long, it is necessary for

him to act quickly, or else public opinion in England will harden again

and the receptivity of the popular mind in England to the new ideas will

cease, or, as we would put it, the period of madness will pass. As Lenin

would put it, Spain was kept unchanged during and after the Reformation

owing to the energetic measures taken by Charles the Fifth and Philip the

Second to prevent the circulation of Reformist literature among their

subjects, though it is an historical fact that the latter manifested

a keen appetite for this forbidden fruit. The Bolsheviks admit that,

if England could establish a similarly strict blockade against their

ideas, England would be saved from Bolshevism, but they do not think

that, under modern conditions and with trade re-established between the

two countries, and especially in view of her well-known theories on the

subject of free speech and a free press, England can ever establish such

a blockade. Some of them are enthusiastic on this subject; others are

inclined to fear that they are already too late; that, in these swift

days of the aeroplane and the radio, movements of popular effervescence

soon pass, and that Great Britain is hardening again in the old

_bourgeois_ mould.

I have tried to make it clear how impossible it is for the Communists

to abandon their theory and practice of international propaganda.

My contention may be strengthened by a description, from personal

observation, of the conditions which prevail in the People’s Commissariat

of Foreign Affairs at Moscow. Most of the members of that department

belong to the Third International, and their main work is to produce

revolutions in foreign countries. After working hard all day organizing

trouble for us in India, Persia, Turkey, and Egypt, they allow themselves

some comic relief and relaxation in the afternoon by the composition

of soothing despatches intended for the English _bourgeoisie_. One

of them, Commissar Feinberg, acted very often as correspondent of an

English newspaper, the _Daily Herald_. Many of the English passports

which go through Feinberg’s hands get “lost”—that is, they are set

aside for the use of Bolshevik emissaries going to England, or else

utilized as models in the well-equipped establishment for the fabrication

of English passports which the “Third International” has inaugurated.

English banknotes are also fabricated there, and may be expected on the

market at any moment. Thus we have the Foreign Office of a great country

deliberately forging the passports and the paper money of a foreign

Government with which it is conducting friendly negotiations, and Foreign

Office officials calmly supervising the work of forgery.

I have already spoken of the character of the Pan-Mohammedan Congress

held under the _ægis_ of Chicherin in April, 1920, of his Korean and

Japanese intrigues, and of the entertainment provided for foreign

revolutionaries who are housed, fed, paid, and clothed by the Soviet

Government, travel free, and enjoy every facility for their destructive

activities.

Can we make the Bolshevik Government stop all this? I do not think that

we can, for the Foreign Office, like the Ministry of Communications,

the Ministry of Foreign Trade, and one or two other organizations of

technical experts, is regarded by the Executive Committee generally as

being very lukewarm in the faith and as having made too many concessions

already to the capitalistic heretics outside. The organization of the

“Third International” is so interwoven with the Bolshevik Government

organization that it would be difficult to say where the one ends and

the other begins, and quite impossible to tear them apart. Most of the

leading Commissars are in “the International” as well as in the Communist

group which rules Russia, and they can never be depended upon to expel

themselves from the latter body. Foreign revolutionaries orate frequently

from the same platform as Lenin and Trotsky, and they are not regarded

as foreigners because in the Communist scheme of things there are no

foreigners. There are only Proletariat and Parasites.

I must admit, however, that the Reds are as afraid of us as we are afraid

of them; indeed, my stay among them gave me the impression that one of

their leading characteristics was an intense suspicion and great fear of

what they call “the great predatory Empires.”

Their state of mind is, in some respects, the same as Japan’s was in

1868. Japan then found herself the only non-Christian nation in the

world which the Christian Whites had not conquered or undermined; and,

consequently, she became profoundly alarmed at the irresistible military

strength, the utter unscrupulousness, and the consummate diplomatic

talent of the European, with the result that their whole national

character, which is naturally joyous, became permanently altered for

the worse. I do not mean to say that this change took place in 1868.

It began, as a matter of fact, long before, in the time of the Shogun

Hideyoshi, when the Philippines had been conquered by Spain and Japan

itself had become filled with Spanish and Portuguese Jesuits; but the

effects were apparent twenty years ago, when I lived in Japan, and are

apparent still.

I shall now give the Bolshevik point of view, not because I sympathize

with it, but because it is always useful to know what the people on the

other side think and to understand the suspicions and delusions under

which they labour.

The Bolshevik Government now finds itself the only Government of its

kind in the world, and in an infinitely more dangerous position than the

Japanese were. The Government of the Shoguns represented all the Japanese

race, which was as patriotic and as firmly welded together as the British

race was in 1914 and is still. The Government of Lenin is brand-new, and

has therefore none of the forces and sanctions of tradition behind it. It

represents but a very small section of the Russian people and is menaced

not only by powerful interests inside Russia, but also, in the firm

opinion of the Bolsheviks, by all the other Governments in the world,

republican as well as monarchical. The Soviet Republic believes that

these Governments hate it intensely, and are, some of them, in a state

of acute fear for their own existence. But I have seen myself that the

countries which suffer most from this fear—Finland, for example—are by

no means in such a state of panic as the Bolshevik Government, which is

convinced, rightly or wrongly, that all the wealth of the world and all

the intellect of the world are working against it ceaselessly and with

supreme ability. Wealth, according to Lenin, is naturally against him;

and intellect has been subdued to the service of wealth by capitalism,

religion, patriotism, and militarism.

Despite all their bluster and all their military success, the Bolsheviks

therefore feel themselves at times to be nothing but amateurs in the

realms of diplomacy, war, secret service, and economics; and, on more

than one occasion, Lenin himself confessed to a painful sinking at the

heart, and even declared in public that his great experiment would

probably fail.

The leading Bolsheviks whom I met in Moscow are profoundly convinced

that their enemies have a great advantage over them in being able to

offer rewards which they cannot offer—wealth, comfort, high and permanent

positions, the esteem of powerful and ancient empires, the blessings

of religion. The Soviet can only give its agents hard work, danger,

permanent discomfort. It cannot provide them even with good cigarettes or

with matches which will light. It can only promise them the applause of

a small clique, not the applause of a people. It measures so accurately

the tremendous strength of the temptations to which they are exposed

that, when it sends abroad not only an ordinary agent, but even a leading

Commissar, it generally keeps his wife or some of his relatives behind as

a hostage, lest, corrupted by the gold of the capitalists, he should grow

faint-hearted, tired of the bitter, unending struggle, and abandon them

altogether.

Lenin has himself confessed, in moments of depression, that, though

there are nominally 600,000 Communists in Russia, there are not 6,000

who can be trusted implicitly. Only fanatics can be depended upon in all

circumstances, and fanatics are few, even in Russia. The average man

cannot rise to the heights or sink to the depths of fanaticism, and even

if he does, he is easily tempted by the easy, normal life which ensures

him cigars, beer, soap, clean linen, and other comforts which Bolshevism

cannot give him, not to speak of nice dresses, jewelry, scent, and real

tea with sugar in it for his wife, as well as playthings for his children.

Even the fanatics in Russia have been kept at too tense a strain during

the last two years: weak human nature cannot stand it. Lenin and Trotsky

both realize this, and are appalled by the infinite staying-power, the

secular experience, and the extreme seductiveness of the vast, patient

force entrenched in front of them. They are all the more appalled because

they realize that, though the workers are tired, the work has hardly yet

begun.

The foregoing explains why Lenin and Trotsky tolerate, and will in all

probability continue to tolerate, such a mediæval institution as the

Extraordinary Commission. Despite the dangerous wideness of its powers,

it at least guards them from the anti-Bolshevik conspirators and the

foreign agents who, in their opinion, swarm in every part of Russia.

Most of the things we say about them they say about us. We praise their

“Intelligence,” but they think that ours is of extreme and deadly

efficiency. They gave me to understand that more than 99 per cent. of

the sympathetic foreigners to whom they opened their minds have turned

out to be agents of their worst enemies. Trotsky, in particular, has

become so nervous and frightened at what he regards as the “disloyalty”

of sympathetic Britishers that he starts whenever he is addressed in

English, and, though he speaks that language fairly well, he conducts the

conversation in Russian or French if his interlocutor happens to know

either of these languages.

He does not understand our institutions; he is suffering from

overwork and nervous strain; he is even afraid for his own life; and,

consequently, he believes the impossible story of the renegade French

officer Sadul that the British Government hired assassins to murder him.

We must bear this in mind if we want to understand fully the truth of Mr.

Lloyd George’s remark in this connection, that we are “dealing not with

realities, but with illusions, myths, and ghosts.”

What frightens the Bolsheviks most of all, however, is the well-founded

suspicion that the very nature of man is working against them. All their

attempts to abolish capitalism, trading, and that legitimate desire

for gain which, after all, makes the world go round, are as futile as

cutting water with a sword and expecting the fissure to remain open. Not

a month passes without the Extraordinary Commission discovering that some

new financial or commercial nucleus has formed on the old lines; and

for the past six months a vast amount of speculation has been connived

at in Moscow and elsewhere. As much of this speculation is carried on,

especially in the Moscow Food Control, by high officials of the Soviet

itself, the Extraordinary Commission lost heart altogether in April last

and has practically ceased to contend against it ever since.

Even this natural result the Bolsheviks attribute, however, to

“Capitalist” Propaganda, so that they have decided that there is not room

in the world for both a Soviet and a Capitalist Government. Hence, plots

for the overthrow of all existing Governments, counteraction by these

Governments, and a thickening of the fog of suspicion, a multiplication

of the “illusions, myths, and ghosts.”

A prisoner of the Reds · 第 23 / 24 章