THE QUESTION OF THE ADVANCE OF THE RUSSIAN ARMY.
We were thus confronted with a crucial question: SHOULD THE RUSSIAN
ARMY ADVANCE?
On March 27th the Provisional Government issued a proclamation "To the
Citizens" on the subject of war aims. The Stavka could not detect any
definite instructions for governing the Russian Army in the midst of a
series of phrases in which the true meaning of the appeal was obscured
in deference to the Revolutionary Democracy. "The Defence at all costs
of our national patrimony and the liberation of the country from the
enemy who has invaded it is the first and vital aim of our soldiers,
who are defending the freedom of the people.... Free Russia does not
aim at domination over other peoples, at depriving them of _their_
national patrimony, or at the forcible seizure of foreign territories.
She aims at a lasting peace, on the basis of the self-determination
of peoples. The Russian people do not wish to increase their external
power at the expense of other peoples ... but ... will not allow their
Mother Country to come out of the great struggle downtrodden and
weakened. These principles will constitute the basis of the Foreign
Policy of the Provisional Government ... _while all the obligations to
our Allies will be respected_."
In the Note of April 18th, addressed to the Allied Powers by the
Foreign Minister, Miliukov, we find yet another definition: "The
universal desire of the people to carry the World War to a victorious
conclusion ... has grown owing to the consciousness of the common
responsibility of everyone. This desire has become more active,
because it is concentrated on the aim which is immediate and clear to
everyone--_that of repelling the enemy who has invaded the territory
of our Mother Country_." These, of course, were mere phrases, which
described the War aims in cautious, timorous and nebulous words,
allowing of any interpretation, and deprived, moreover, any foundation
in fact. The will for victory in the people and in the Army had
not only not grown, but was steadily decreasing, as a result of
weariness and waning patriotism, as well as of the intense work of
the abnormal coalition between the representatives of the extreme
elements of the Russian Revolutionary Democracy and the German
General Staff. That coalition was formed by ties which were unseen
and yet quite perceptible. I will deal with that question later, and
will only say here that the destructive work, in accordance with
the Zimmerwald programme, for ending the War began long before the
Revolution and was conducted from within as well as from without. The
Provisional Government was trying to pacify the militant element of the
Revolutionary Democracy by expounding meaningless and obscure formulas
with regard to the War aims, but it did not interfere with the Stavka
in regard to the choice of strategical means. We were, therefore, to
decide the question of the advance independently from the prevailing
currents of political opinion. The only clear and definite object upon
which the Commanding Staffs could not fail to agree was to defeat the
enemy in close union with the Allies. Otherwise our country was doomed
to destruction.
Such a decision implied an advance on a large scale because victory was
impossible without it, and a devastating war might otherwise become
protracted. The responsible organs of the Democracy, the majority of
whom had Defeatist tendencies, tried correspondingly to influence
the masses. Even the moderate Socialist circles were not altogether
free from these tendencies. The masses of the soldiery utterly failed
to understand the ideas behind of the Zimmerwald programme; but the
programme itself offered a certain justification for the elementary
feelings of self-preservation. In other words, it was a question with
them of saving their skin. The idea of an advance could not, therefore,
be particularly popular with the Army, as demoralisation was growing.
There was no certainty not only that the advance would be successful,
but even that the troops would obey the order to go forward. The
colossal Russian Front was still steady ... by the force of inertia.
The enemy feared it, as, like ourselves, he was unable to gauge its
potential strength. What if the advance were to disclose our impotence?
Such were the motives adduced against an advance. But there were
too many weighty reasons in favour of it, and these reasons were
imperative. The Central Powers had exhausted their strength, moral and
material, and their man power. If our advance in the autumn of 1916,
which had no decisive strategical results, had placed the enemy forces
in a critical position, what might not happen now, when we had become
stronger and, technically better equipped, when we had the advantage
in numbers, and the Allies were planning a decisive blow in the spring
of 1917? The Germans were awaiting the blow with feverish anxiety,
and in order to avert it they had retreated thirty miles on a front
of 100 miles between Arras and Soissons to the so-called Hindenburg
line, after causing incredibly ruthless and inexcusable devastation to
the relinquished territory. This retreat was significant, as it was
an indication of the enemy's weakness, and gave rise to great hopes.
_We had to advance._ Our intelligence service was completely destroyed
by the suspicions of the Revolutionary Democracy, which had foolishly
believed that this service was identical with the old secret police
organisation, and had therefore abolished it. Many of the delegates
of the Soviet were in touch with the German agents. The fronts were
in close contact, and espionage was rendered very easy. In these
circumstances our decision not to advance would have been undoubtedly
communicated to the enemy, who would have immediately commenced the
transference of his troops to the Western Front. This would have been
tantamount to treason to our Allies, and would have inevitably led to a
separate peace--with all its consequences--if not officially, at least
practically. The attitude of the revolutionary elements in Petrograd
in this matter was, however, so unstable that the Stavka had at first
suspected--without any real foundation--the Provisional Government
itself.
This caused the following incident: At the end of April, in the
temporary absence of the Supreme C.-in-C., the Chief of the Diplomatic
Chancery reported to me that the Allied Military Attaches were
greatly perturbed because a telegram had just been received from the
Italian Ambassador at Petrograd, in which he categorically stated
that the Provisional Government had decided to conclude a separate
peace with the Central Powers. When the receipt of a telegram had
been ascertained, I sent a telegram to the War Minister, because I
was then unaware of the fact that the Italian Embassy, owing to the
impulsiveness of its personnel, had more than once been the channel
through which false rumours had been spread. My telegram was most
emphatic, and ended thus: "Posterity will stigmatise with deep contempt
the weak-kneed, impotent, irresolute generation which was good
enough to destroy the rotten régime, but not good enough to preserve
the honour, the dignity, and the very existence of Russia." The
misunderstanding was painful indeed; the news was false, the Government
was not thinking of a separate peace. Later, at the fateful sitting of
the Conference at the Stavka of Commanders-in-Chief and members of the
Government, on July 16th, I had an opportunity of expressing my views
once more. I said: "... There is another way--the way of treason. It
would give a respite to our distressed country.... But the curse of
treachery will not give us happiness. At the end of that way there is
slavery--political, economical, and moral."
I am aware that in certain Russian circles such a straightforward
profession of moral principles in politics was afterwards condemned.
It was stated that such idealism is misplaced and pernicious, that
the interests of Russia must be considered above all "conventional
political morality."... A people, however, lives not for years, but for
centuries, and I am certain that, had we then altered the course of our
external policy, the sufferings of the Russian people would not have
been materially affected, and the gruesome, blood-stained game with
marked cards would have continued ... at the expense of the people.
The psychology of the Russian military leaders did not allow of such a
change, of such a compromise with conscience. Alexeiev and Kornilov,
abandoned by all and unsupported, continued for a long time to follow
that path, trusting and relying upon the common-sense, if not the noble
spirit, of the Allies and preferring to be betrayed rather than betray.
Was that playing the part of a Don Quixote? It may be so. But the other
policy would have had to be conducted by other hands less clean. As
regards myself, three years later, having lost all my illusions and
borne the heavy blows of fortune, having knocked against the solid
wall of the overt and blind egoism of the "friendly" powers, and
being therefore free from all obligations towards the Allies, almost
on the eve of the final betrayal by these powers of the real Russia,
I remained the convinced advocate of _honest policy_. Now the tables
are turned. At the end of April, 1920, I had to try and convince
British Members of Parliament that a healthy national policy cannot be
free from all moral principles, and that an obvious crime was being
committed because no other name could be given to the abandonment of
the armed forces of the Crimea to the discontinuance of the struggle
against Bolshevism, its introduction into the family of civilised
nations, and to its indirect recognition; that this would prolong for
a short while the days of Bolshevism in Russia, but would open wide
the gates of Europe to Bolshevism. I am firmly convinced that the
Nemesis of history will not forgive THEM, as it would not have then
forgiven us. The beginning of 1917 was a moment of acute peril for the
Central Powers and a decisive moment for the Entente. The question
of the Russian advance greatly perturbed the Allied High Command.
General Barter, the Representative of Great Britain, and General Janin,
the French Representative at Russian Headquarters, often visited the
Supreme C.-in-C. and myself, and made inquiries on the subject. But the
statements of the German Press, with reference to pressure from the
Allies and to ultimatums to the Stavka, are incorrect. These would have
simply been useless, because Janin and Barter understood the situation,
and knew that it was the condition of the Army that hindered the
beginning of the advance. They tried to hurry and to increase technical
assistance, while their more impulsive compatriots--Thomas, Henderson,
and Vandervelde--were making hopeless endeavours to fan the flame of
patriotism by their impassioned appeals to the Representatives of the
Russian Revolutionary Democracy and to the troops.
The Stavka also took into consideration the strong probability that
the Russian Army would have rapidly and finally collapsed had it
been left in a passive condition and deprived of all impulses for
active hostilities, whereas a successful advance might lift and heal
the _moral_, if not through sheer patriotism, at least through the
intoxication of a great victory. Such feelings might have counteracted
all international formulas sown by the enemy on the fertile soil of
the Defeatist tendencies of the Socialistic Party. Victory would
have given external peace, and some chance of peace within. Defeat
opened before the country an abyss. The risk was inevitable, and was
justified by the aim of saving Russia. The Supreme Commander-in-Chief,
the Quartermaster-General, and myself fully agreed as to the necessity
of an advance. And this view was shared in principle by the Senior
Commanding Officers. Different views were held on various Fronts as
to the degree of fighting capacity of the troops and as to their
preparedness. I am thoroughly convinced that the decision itself
independently of its execution rendered the Allies a great service,
because the forces, the means, and the attention of the enemy were kept
on the Russian Front, which, although it had lost its former formidable
power, still remained a potential danger to the enemy. The same
question, curiously enough, was confronting Hindenburg's Headquarters.
Ludendorff writes: "The general position in April and in May precluded
the possibility of important operations on the Eastern Front." Later,
however, "... there were great discussions on the subject at G.H.Q.
Would not a rapid advance on the Eastern Front with the available
troops, reinforced by a few divisions from the West, offer a better
chance than mere waiting? It was a most propitious moment, as some
people said, for smashing the Russian Army, when its fighting capacity
had deteriorated.... I disagreed, in spite of the fact that our
position in the West had improved. I would not do anything that might
destroy the real chances of peace." Ludendorff means, of course,
separate peace. What such a peace was to be we learnt later, at
Brest-Litovsk....
The Armies were given directions for a new offensive. The general idea
was to break through the enemy positions on sectors specially prepared
on all European fronts, to advance on a broad front in great strength
on the South-Western Front, in the direction from Kamenetz-Podolsk to
Lvov, and further to the line of the Vistula, while the striking force
of our Western Front was to advance from Molodetchno to Vilna and the
Niemen, throwing back northwards the German Armies of General Eichorn.
The Northern and the Roumanian Fronts were to co-operate by dealing
local blows and attracting the forces of the enemy. The time for the
advance was not definitely fixed, and a broad margin was allowed. But
the days went by, and the troops, who had hitherto obeyed orders and
carried out the most difficult tasks without a murmur, the same troops
that had hitherto withstood the onset of the Austro-German Armies with
naked breasts, without cartridges or shells, now stood with their
will-power paralysed and their reason obscured. The offensive was still
further delayed.
Meanwhile the Allies, who had been preparing a big operation for the
spring, as they had counted upon strong reinforcements being brought
up by the enemy in the event of the complete collapse of the Russian
Front, began the great battle in France, as had been planned, at the
end of March, and _without awaiting_ the final decision on our advance.
The Allied Headquarters, however, did not consider simultaneous action
as a necessary condition of the contemplated operations, even before
disaffection had begun in the Russian Army. Owing to the natural
conditions of our Front we were not expected to begin the advance
before the month of May. Meanwhile, according to the general plan of
campaign for 1917, which had been drawn up in November, 1916, at the
Conference at Chantilly, General Joffre intended to begin the advance
of the Anglo-French Army at the end of January and the beginning of
February. General Nivelle, who superseded him, altered the date to the
end of March after the Conference at Calais of February 14th, 1917.
The absence of co-ordination between the Western and Eastern European
Fronts was bearing bitter fruit. It is difficult to tell whether the
Allies would have deferred their spring offensive for two months, and
whether the advances of a combined operation with the Russian Front
would have been a compensation for the delay, which gave Germany the
opportunity of reinforcing and reorganising her armies. One thing is
certain--that that lack of co-ordination gave the Germans a great
respite. Ludendorff wrote: "I detest useless discussions, but I cannot
fail to think of what would have happened had Russia advanced in April
and May and had won a few minor victories. We would have been faced, as
in the autumn of 1916, with a fierce struggle. Our munitions would have
reached a very low ebb. After careful consideration, I fail to see how
our High Command could have remained the master of the situation had
the Russians obtained in April and May even the same scant successes
which crowned their efforts in June. In April and May of 1917, in spite
of our victory (?) on the Aisne and in Champagne, it was only the
Russian Revolution that saved us."
* * * * *
Apart from the general advance on the Austro-German Front, another
question of considerable interest arose in April--that of an
_independent operation for the conquest of Constantinople_. Inspired
by young and spirited naval officers, the Foreign Minister, Miliukov,
repeatedly negotiated with Alexeiev, and tried to persuade him to
undertake that operation, which he considered likely to be successful,
and which would, in his opinion, confront the Revolutionary Democracy,
which was protesting against annexations, with an accomplished fact.
The Stavka disapproved of this undertaking, as the condition of
our troops would not permit of it. The landing of an Expeditionary
Force--in itself a very delicate task--demanded stringent discipline,
preparation, and perfect order. What is more, the Expeditionary
Force, which would lose touch with the main Army, should be imbued
with a very strong sense of duty. To have the sea in the rear is a
circumstance which depresses even troops with a very strong _moral_.
These elements had already ceased to exist in the Russian Army. The
Minister's requests were becoming, however, so urgent that General
Alexeiev deemed it necessary to give him an object-lesson, and a small
Expedition was planned to the Turkish coast of Asia Minor. As far
as I can remember, Zunguldak was the objective. This insignificant
operation required a detachment consisting of one Infantry Regiment,
one Armoured Car Division, and a small Cavalry contingent, and was
to have been carried out by the troops of the Roumanian Front. After
a while the Headquarters of that Front had shamefacedly to report
that the detachment could not be formed because the troops declined
to join the Expeditionary Force. This episode was due to a foolish
interpretation of the idea of peace without annexations, which
distorted the very principles of strategy and was also, perhaps, due
to the same instinct of self-preservation. It was another ill omen for
the impending general advance. That advance was still being prepared,
painfully and desperately.
The rusty, notched Russian sword was still brandished. The question
was, when would it stop and upon whose head would it fall?
[Illustration: Foreign military representatives at the Stavka. Standing
on the pathway, from left to right: Lieut.-Col. Marsengo (Italy); 2.
General Janin (France); 3. General Alexeiev; 4. General Barter (Great
Britain); 5. General Romei Longhena (Italy).]