THE REVOLUTION--THE ABDICATION OF NICHOLAS II.
(MARCH, 1917)
Rasputin was no more and the nation was avenged. A few brave men had
taken upon themselves to secure the disappearance of the man who was
execrated by one and all.[51] It might be hoped that after this
explosion of wrath faction would die down. Unfortunately it was not so.
On the contrary, the struggle between the Czar and the Duma became more
bitter than ever.
The Czar was convinced that in existing circumstances all concessions on
his part would be regarded as a sign of weakness which, without removing
the causes of the discontent which resulted from the miseries and
privations of the war, could only diminish his authority and possibly
accelerate a revolution. The opposition of the Duma revealed the
incapacity and impotence of the Government and in no way improved the
situation. Faction became more intense, intrigue multiplied at a time
when nothing but the presentation of a united front by all the
intelligent classes of the nation could have paralysed the evil
influence of Protopopoff. A universal effort would have been required to
avert the catastrophe which was rapidly approaching. It was true that
this meant asking the upper classes to prove that they could show as
much self-denial as enlightened patriotism, but in the tragic
circumstances through which the country was passing such action might
have been expected of them.
How is it that in Russia no one realised what everyone in Germany
knew--that a revolution would inevitably deliver up the country to its
enemies? “I had often dreamed,” writes Ludendorff in his _War Memories_,
“of the realisation of that Russian revolution which was to lighten our
military burden. A perpetual illusion! We had the revolution to-day
quite unexpectedly. I felt as if a great weight had fallen from my
shoulders.”[52]
The Germans were the only people in Europe who knew Russia. Their
knowledge of it was fuller and more exact than that of the Russians
themselves. They had known for a long time that the Czarist régime, with
all its faults, was the only one capable of prolonging the Russian
resistance. They knew that with the fall of the Czar Russia would be at
their mercy. They stopped at nothing to procure his fall. That is why
the preservation of the existing system should have been secured at any
cost. The revolution was inevitable at that moment, it was said. It
could only be averted by the immediate grant of a constitution. And so
on! The fact is that the perverse fate which had blinded the sovereigns
was to blind the nation in turn.
Yet the Czar was inspired by two dominant sentiments--his political
enemies themselves knew it--to which all Russia could rally. One of them
was his love for his country and the other his absolute determination to
continue the war to the bitter end. In the universal blindness which was
the result of party passion men did not realise that, in spite of all, a
Czar pledged to the cause of victory was an immense moral asset for the
Russian people. They did not see that a Czar who was what he was
popularly supposed to be could alone lead the country to victory and
save it from bondage to Germany.
The position of the Czar was extraordinarily difficult. To the
Extremists of the Right, who regarded a compromise with Germany as their
only road to salvation, he was the insurmountable obstacle, who had to
make way for another sovereign. To the Extremists of the Left who
desired victory, but a victory without a Czar, he was the obstacle which
the revolution would remove. And while the latter were endeavouring to
undermine the foundations of the monarchy by intensive propaganda at and
behind the front--thus playing Germany’s game--the moderate parties
adopted that most dangerous and yet characteristically Russian course of
doing nothing. They were victims of that Slav fatalism which means
waiting on events and hoping that some providential force will come and
guide them for the public good. They confined themselves to passive
resistance because they failed to realise that in so acting they were
paralysing the nation.
The general public had unconsciously become the docile tool of German
intrigue. The most alarming rumours, accepted and given the widest
currency, created an anti-monarchist and defeatist atmosphere behind
the front--an atmosphere of distrust and suspicion which was bound to
have a speedy effect upon the men in the firing-line themselves.
Everyone hacked at the central pillar of the tottering political
edifice, and no one thought of attempting to shore it up while still
there was time. Everything was done to accelerate the revolution;
nothing to avert its consequences.
It was forgotten that Russia did not consist merely of fifteen to twenty
million human beings ripe for parliamentary government, but that it had
one hundred and twenty to one hundred and thirty million peasants, most
of them rude and uneducated, to whom the Czar was still the Lord’s
Anointed, he whom God had chosen to direct the destinies of Great
Russia. Accustomed from his earliest youth to hear the priest invoke the
name of the Czar in the offertory, one of the most solemn moments in the
Orthodox liturgy, the _moujik_ in his mystical exaltation was bound to
attribute to him a character semi-divine.[53]
The Czar was not the head of the Russian Church. He was its protector
and defender. But after Peter the Great abolished the patriarchate the
people were inclined to regard him as the incarnation of both spiritual
and temporal authority. It was an error, of course, but it survived. It
was this double aspect of the person of the sovereign which made Czarism
mean so much to the masses, and as the Russian people are essentially
mystic, the second factor was not a whit less important than the first.
For in the mind of the _moujik_, autocracy could not be separated from
Orthodoxy.
The Russian revolution could not be exclusively a political revolution.
It must necessarily have a religious character. When the old system fell
it was bound to create such a void in the political and religious
conscience of the Russian people that unless care were taken it would
involve the whole of the social organism in its fall. To the humble
peasant the Czar was both the incarnation of his mystic aspirations and
in a sense a tangible reality, impossible to replace by a political
formula, which would be an incomprehensible abstraction to him. Into the
vacuum created by the collapse of the Czaristic régime the Russian
revolution--in view of the passion of the absolute and the proneness to
extremes which are characteristic of the Slav nature--was certain to
hurl itself with a violence that no government could control. There was
a fatal risk that it would all end in political and religious chaos or
sheer anarchy.
As the revolution was desired, preparations should have been made to
avert this eventuality. Even in times of peace it would have been a
formidable risk: to venture upon such a step in war was simply criminal.
We Westerners are apt to judge Russian affairs by the governing classes
with which we have come in contact--classes which have attained a degree
of culture and civilisation equal to our own. We too often forget the
millions of semi-barbarous and ignorant beings who understand the
simplest and most primitive sentiments alone. Of these the Czarist
fetish was one of the most striking examples.
The British Ambassador, getting his information from Russian politicians
whose patriotism was above suspicion, but who saw their country as they
wanted it to be and not as it really was, allowed himself to be led
astray. Insufficient account was taken of the special conditions which
made Russia a religious, political, and social anachronism to which none
of the formulæ or panaceas of Western Europe would apply. They forgot
that in any country at war the early stages of a revolution almost
always produce a weakening of the national effort and adversely affect
the fighting power of the army. In a country like Russia this would be
true to a far greater extent. The Entente made a mistake[54] in thinking
that the movement which the beginning of February, 1917, revealed was of
popular origin. It was nothing of the kind, and only the governing
classes participated in it. The great masses stood aloof. It is not true
that it was a fundamental upheaval which overturned the monarchy. It was
the fall of the monarchy itself which raised that formidable wave which
engulfed Russia and nearly submerged the neighbouring states.
* * * * *
After his return from G.H.Q. the Czar had remained at Tsarskoïe-Selo for
the months of January and February. He felt that the political situation
was more and more strained, but he had not yet lost all hope. The
country was suffering: it was tired of the war and anxiously longing for
peace. The opposition was growing from day to day, and the storm was
threatening, but in spite of everything Nicholas II. hoped that
patriotic feeling would carry the day against the pessimism which the
trials and worries of the moment made general, and that no one would
risk compromising the results of a war which had cost the nation so much
by rash and imprudent action.
His faith in his army was also unshaken. He knew that the material sent
from France and England was arriving satisfactorily and would improve
the conditions under which it had to fight. He had the greatest hopes of
the new formations which had been created in the course of the
winter.[55] He was certain that his army would be ready in the spring to
join in that great offensive of the Allies which would deal Germany her
death-blow and thus save Russia: a few weeks more and victory would be
his.
Yet the Czar hesitated to leave Tsarskoïe-Selo, such was his anxiety
about the political situation. On the other hand, he considered that his
departure could not be deferred much longer, and that it was his duty to
return to G.H.Q. He ultimately left for Mohileff on Thursday, March 8th,
arriving there next morning.
He had hardly left the capital before the first symptoms of insurrection
began to be observable in the working-class quarters. The factories went
on strike, and the movement spread rapidly during the days following.
The population of Petrograd had suffered great privations during the
winter, for owing to the shortage of rolling-stock the transport of food
and fuel had become very difficult, and there was no sign of improvement
in this respect. The Government could think of nothing likely to calm
the excitement, and Protopopoff merely exasperated everyone by the
measures of repression--as stupid as criminal--taken by the police.
Troops also had been employed. All the regiments being at the front, the
only troops at Petrograd were units under instruction, whose loyalty had
been thoroughly undermined by organised propaganda in the barracks in
spite of counter-measures. There were cases of defection, and after
three days of half-hearted resistance unit after unit went over to the
insurgents. By the 13th the city was almost entirely in the hands of the
revolutionaries, and the Duma proceeded to form a provisional
government.
At first we at Mohileff had no idea of the scale of the events which had
occurred at Petrograd. Yet after Saturday, March 10th, General Alexeieff
and some officers of the Czar’s suite had tried to open his eyes and
persuade him to grant the liberties the nation demanded immediately. But
once more Nicholas II. was deceived by the intentionally incomplete and
inaccurate statements of a few ignorant individuals in his suite[56] and
would not take their advice.
By the 12th it was impossible to conceal the truth from the Czar any
longer; he understood that extraordinary measures were required, and
decided to return to Tsarskoïe-Selo at once.
The Imperial train left Mohileff on the night of the 12th, but on
arriving at the station of Malaia-Vichera twenty-four hours later it was
ascertained that the station of Tosno, thirty miles south of Petrograd,
was in the hands of the insurgents, and that it was impossible to get to
Tsarskoïe-Selo. There was nothing for it but to turn back.
The Czar decided to go to Pskoff to General Russky, the
Commander-in-Chief of the Northern Front. He arrived there on the
evening of the 14th. When the General had told him the latest
developments in Petrograd the Czar instructed him to inform M. Rodzianko
by telephone that he was ready to make every concession if the Duma
thought that it would tranquillise the nation. The reply came: “It is
too late.”
Was it really so? The revolutionary movement was confined to Petrograd
and its suburbs; in spite of propaganda, the Czar still enjoyed
considerable prestige in the army, and his authority with the peasants
was intact. Would not the grant of a Constitution and the help of the
Duma have been enough to restore to Nicholas II. the popularity he had
enjoyed at the beginning of the war?
The reply of the Duma left the Czar with the alternatives of abdicating
or marching on Petrograd with the troops which remained faithful to him:
the latter would mean civil war in the presence of the enemy. Nicholas
II. did not hesitate, and on the morning of the 15th he handed General
Russky a telegram informing the President of the Duma that he intended
to abdicate in favour of his son.
A few hours later he summoned Professor Fiodorof to his carriage and
said:
“Tell me frankly, Sergius Petrovitch. Is Alexis’s malady incurable?”
Professor Fiodorof, fully realising the importance of what he was going
to say, answered:
“Science teaches us, sire, that it is an incurable disease. Yet those
who are afflicted with it sometimes reach an advanced old age. Still,
Alexis Nicolaïevitch is at the mercy of an accident.”
The Czar hung his head and sadly murmured:
“That’s just what the Czarina told me. Well, if that is the case and
Alexis can never serve his country as I should like him to, we have the
right to keep him ourselves.”
His mind was made up, and when the representatives of the Provisional
Government and the Duma arrived from Petrograd that evening he handed
them the Act of Abdication he had drawn up beforehand and in which he
renounced for himself and his son the throne of Russia in favour of his
brother, the Grand-Duke Michael Alexandrovitch.
I give a translation of this document which, by its nobility and the
burning patriotism in every line, compelled the admiration of even the
Czar’s enemies:
The Act of Abdication of the Czar Nicholas II.
By the grace of God, We, Nicholas II., Emperor of all the Russias,
Tsar of Poland, Grand-Duke of Finland, etc., etc.... to all Our
faithful subjects make known:
* * * * *
In these days of terrible struggle against the external enemy who
has been trying for three years to impose his will upon Our
Fatherland, God has willed that Russia should be faced with a new
and formidable trial. Troubles at home threaten to have a fatal
effect on the ultimate course of this hard-fought war. The
destinies of Russia, the honour of Our heroic army, the welfare of
the people and the whole future of Our dear country demand that the
war should be carried to a victorious conclusion at any price.
Our cruel foe is making his supreme effort, and the moment is at
hand in which Our valiant army, in concert with Our glorious
allies, will overthrow him once and for all.
In these days, which are decisive for the existence of Russia, We
think We should follow the voice of Our conscience by facilitating
the closest co-operation of Our people and the organisation of all
its resources for the speedy realisation of victory.
For these reasons, in accord with the Duma of the Empire, We think
it Our duty to abdicate the Crown and lay down the supreme power.
Not desiring to be separated from Our beloved son, We bequeath Our
heritage to Our brother, the Grand-Duke Michael Alexandrovitch, and
give him Our blessing. We abjure him to govern in perfect accord
with the representatives of the nation sitting in the legislative
institutions, and to take a sacred oath in the name of the beloved
Fatherland.
We appeal to all the loyal sons of the country, imploring them to
fulfil their patriotic and holy duty of obeying their Czar in this
sad time of national trial. We ask them to help him and the
representatives of the nation to guide the Russian state into the
path of prosperity and glory.
God help Russia.
The Czar had fallen. Germany was on the point of winning her greatest
victory, but the fruits might still escape her. They would have escaped
her if the intelligent section of the nation had recovered itself in
time and had gathered round the Grand-Duke Michael, who, by his
brother’s desire--the Act of Abdication said so in terms--was to be a
constitutional sovereign in the full sense of the word. Nothing
prevented so desirable a consummation, for Russia was not yet in the
presence of one of those great popular movements which defy all logic
and hurl nations into the gulf of the unknown. The revolution had been
exclusively the work of the Petrograd population, the majority of which
would not have hesitated to rally round the new ruler if the Provisional
Government and the Duma had set the example. The army, which was still a
well-disciplined body, represented a serious force. As for the great
bulk of the nation, it had not the slightest idea that anything had
passed.
This last chance of averting the catastrophe was lost through thirst for
power and fear of the Extremists. The day after the Czar’s abdication
the Grand-Duke Michael, acting on the advice of all save two of the
members of the Provisional Government, renounced the throne in turn and
resigned to a constituent assembly the task of deciding what the future
form of government should be.
The irreparable step had been taken. The removal of the Czar had left in
the minds of the masses a gaping void it was impossible for them to
fill. They were left to their own devices--a rudderless ship at the
mercy of the waves--and searching for an ideal, some article of faith
which might replace what they had lost, they found nothing but chaos
around them.
To finish her work of destruction, Germany had only to give Lenin and
his disciples a plentiful supply of money and let them loose on Russia.
Lenin and his friends never dreamed of talking to the peasants about a
democratic republic or a constituent assembly. They knew it would have
been waste of breath. As up-to-date prophets, they came to preach the
holy war and to try and draw these untutored millions by the attraction
of a creed in which the finest teaching of Christ goes hand in hand with
the worst sophisms--a creed which, thanks to the Jews, the adventurers
of Bolshevism, was to be translated into the subjection of the _moujik_
and the ruin of the country.