History of the Russian Revolution Vol 1 Part 11

One of the district land committees of Kharkov province decided, on April 5, to conduct a search for weapons among the landowners. That already smacks of the coming civil war. A disturbance arising in Skopinsky county, Riazan province, is explained by the commis-sar as due to a decree of the executive committee of a neighbouring county establishing compulsory rental to the peasants of the landlords' lands. "The agitation of students in favour of tranquillity until the Const.i.tuent a.s.sembly, has had no success." Thus we learn that the students, "who had summoned the peasants in the .rst revolution to a campaign of terror, such being the tactic of the Social Revolutionaries at that time, were now, in 1917, preaching lawfulness and tranquillity-to be sure, without success.

The commissar of Simbirsk province draws the picture of a more developed peasant movement: The district and village committees-of which something will be said later-are arresting the landlords, banishing them from the province, calling out the workers from the landlords' .elds, seizing the land, establishing arbitrary rentals. "The delegates sent by the Executive Committee are taking their stand on the side of the peasants." At the same time there begins a movement of the communal peasants against the individual landowners-against strong peasants, that is, who had detached themselves and taken up individual hold-ings on the basis of Stolypin's law of November 9, 1906. "The situation in the provinces menaces the sowing of the .elds." As early as April, the Simbirsk province commissar can see no way out but immediately to declare the land national property, the terms on which it is to be used to be de.ned later by the Const.i.tuent a.s.sembly.

From Kashir county, just outside Moscow, come complaints that the executive commit-tee is inciting the population to the seizure without indemnity of the church, monastery and landlords' estates. In Kursk province the peasants are removing the war-prisoners from work on the estates, and even locking them up in the local jail. After the peasant con-gresses, the peasants in the Penza province, inclining to a literal interpretation of the Social Revolutionary resolution on land and freedom, begin to violate a recently concluded con-tract with the landlords. At the same time they make an a.s.sault on the new organs of power. "Upon the organisation of the district and county executive committees in March, the in-telligentsia composed the majority of their staffs, but afterwards"-reports the commissar of Penza-"voices began to be heard against the intelligentsia, and by the middle of April the staff of the committees everywhere was exclusively composed of peasants whose tendency on the land question was clearly lawless." A group of landlords of the neighbouring Kazan province complains to the Provisional Government of the impossibility of carrying on their business, because the peasants are calling off their workers, stealing seed, in many localities carrying off the movables of the estate, not permitting the landlord to cut wood in his own forest, threatening him with violence and death. "There are no courts; everybody does as he wishes; sensible people are terrorised." The Kazan landlords already know who is guilty of this anarchy: "The instructions of the Provisional Government are unknown in the village, but Bolshevik lea.ets are widely distributed." However, there was no lack of instructions from the Provisional Government. In a telegram of March 20, Prince Lvov proposed to the commissars to create district committees as organs of the local power, recommending that they should draw into the work of these committees "the local landowners and all the intellectual forces of the village." It was proposed to organise the whole state structure in the manner of a system of chambers of conciliation. The commissars, however, were soon weeping about the crowding out of the "intellectual forces." The muzhik obviously did not trust his county and district Kerenskys.

On April 3, Prince Lvov's subst.i.tute, Prince Yurussov-the Ministry of the Interior was adorned, we see, with lofty t.i.tles recommends that no arbitrary acts shall be permitted, and especially "the freedom of every proprietor to dispose of his own land"-sweetest of all freedoms-shall be defended. Ten days later Prince Lvov himself considers it necessary to do something, and recommends to the commissars "to put a stop to every manifestation of violence and robbery with the whole power of the law." Again two days later, Prince Yurussov instructs the provincial commissars "to take measures for the protection of the stud farms from lawless acts, explaining to the peasants ... and so forth." On April 18, Prince Yurussov is troubled because the war-prisoners working for the landlords are be-ginning to present immoderate demands, and instructs the commissars to penalise these insolent fellows on the basis of the authority formerly enjoyed by the czar's governors. Circulars, instructions, telegraphic directions pour down from above in a continual shower. On May 12 Prince Lvov enumerates in a new telegram the unlawful activities which are unceasing throughout the country arbitrary arrests, searches; removals from of.ce, from management of estates, from administration of factories and shops; wrecking of properties; pillage, insubordination, hooliganism; acts of violence against of.cial personages; imposi-tion of taxes upon the population inciting one part of the population against another, etc., etc. All such forms of activity must be recognised as clearly unlawful and in certain cases even anarchistic. . . ." The characterisation is not very clear, but the conclusion is: "That the most decisive measures must be taken." The provincial commissars resolutely issued orders to the counties, the counties brought pressure to bear on the district committees, and all of them together revealed their impotence in the face of the muzhiks.

Almost everywhere the nearest military detachments had a hand in the business. Often-est indeed they took the initiative. The movement a.s.sumed widely different forms, accord-ing to local conditions and the sharpness of the struggle. In Siberia, where there were no landlords, the peasants took possession of the church and monastery lands. In other parts of the country, too, the clergy had a hard time. In the pious province of Smolensk, under the in.uence of soldiers arriving from the fronts, the priests and the monks were arrested. Lo-cal organisations were often compelled to go farther than they wanted to, merely to prevent the peasants from taking incomparably more radical steps. Early in May a county executive committee of Samara province appointed a social trustee over the property of Count Orlov-Davidov, thus protecting it from the peasants. Since the decree promised by Kerensky forbidding the sale of lands never did appear, the peasants began to stop these sales in their own way, preventing surveys of the land. Con.scation of the landlords' weapons, even their hunting weapons, was spreading wider and wider. The peasants of Minsk province, com-plains the commissar, "take the resolutions of a peasant congress for law." Yes, and how could they take them otherwise? Those congresses were the sole real power in the locali-ties. Thus is revealed the vast dissonance between the Social Revolutionary intelligentsia drowning in words, and the peasantry demanding action.

Towards the end of May the far steppes of Asia billowed up. The Kirghiz, from whom the czardom used to take away their best lands for the bene.t of its servants, arose now against the landlords, suggesting that they hand over at once the stolen goods. "This view is gaining ground in the steppes," reported the Akmolinsk commissar. At the opposite end of the country, in Li.and province, a county executive committee sent a commission to investigate the sacking of the property of Baron Stahl von Holstein. The commission declared the disorders insigni.cant and the presence of the baron in the county undesir-able for the public tranquillity, and proposed: To forward him along with the baroness to Petrograd and place them at the disposal of the Provisional Government. Thus arose one of the innumerable con.icts between the local and the central powers, between the Social Revolutionaries down below and the Social Revolutionaries on top.

A report of May 27 from Pavlograd county in Ekaterinoslav province paints an almost idyllic picture of law and order: The members of the land committee are explaining to the population all misunderstandings and thus "preventing any kind of excess." Alas, this idyll will last but a few weeks. The head of one of the Kostroma monasteries bitterly complained at the end of May against a requisition by the peasants of a third of his horned cattle. The reverend monk should have been more meek: he will soon bid farewell to the other two-thirds.

In Kursk province there began a persecution of the individual settlers who had refused to return to the commune. In the hour of its great land revolution, its "Black Division," the peasantry wanted to act as a single whole. Inner distinctions might prove an obstacle; the commune must stand forth as one man. The .ght for the landlord's land was therefore accompanied by acts of violence against the separate farmer-the land individualist.

On the last day of May, a soldier, Samoilov, was arrested in Perm province for inciting to non-payment of land taxes. Soldier Samoilov will soon be arresting others. During a religious procession in one of the villages in Kharkov province, a peasant Grichenko chopped down with an axe before the eyes of the entire Village the revered icon of St. Nicholas. Thus all kinds of protests arise and express themselves in action. An anonymous naval of.cer and landlord, in his Notes of a White Guard, gives an interesting picture of the evolution of the village in the .rst months of the revolution. To all of.ces "almost everywhere they elected at .rst men from the bourgeois layers. Everybody was striving for but one thing-to maintain order." The peasants, to be sure, made demands for the land, but during the .rst two or three months without violence. You could hear everywhere such phrases as "We do not want to rob, we want to get it by agreement," etc. In these rea.s.suring, af.rmations the ear of the lieutenant caught a note of "concealed threat." And in truth, although the peasantry in the .rst period did not resort to violence, still in relation to the so-called Intellectual forces "they immediately began to reveal their disrespect." This half-waiting att.i.tude continued, according to the White Guard, until May or June, "after which a sharp change was to be observed-a tendency appeared to quarrel with the provisional regulations, to put things through to suit themselves." In other words, the peasants gave the February revolution approximately three months grace on the promissory notes of the Social Revolutionaries, after which they began to collect their own way.

A soldier, Chinenov, who had joined the Bolsheviks, made two trips from Moscow after the revolution to his home in Orel. In May the Social Revolutionaries were dominant in the district. The muzhiks in many localities were still paying rent to the landlords. Chi-nenov organised a Bolshevik nucleus of soldiers, peasant farmhands and poor peasants. The nucleus advocated the cessation of rent payments and a distribution of land among the landless. They immediately registered the landlords' meadow lands, divided them among the villages, and mowed them. "The Social Revolutionaries sitting in the district commit-tees cried out against the illegality of our act, but did not renounce their own share of the hay." As the village representatives would give up their of.ces through fear of responsi-bility, the peasants would select new ones who were more resolute. The latter were by no means always Bolsheviks. By direct pressure the peasants were producing a split in the Social Revolutionary Party, dividing the revolutionary elements from the functionaries and careerists. Having mowed the manorial hay, the muzhiks turned to the fallow land and began to divide it for the fall sowing. The Bolshevik nucleus decided to look over the manorial granaries and send the reserves of grain to the hungering capital. The resolution of the nucleus was carried out because it coincided with the mood of the peasants. Chi-nenov brought with him to his homeland some Bolshevik literature, a thing n.o.body had ever heard of until he arrived. "The local intelligentsia and the Social Revolutionaries," he said, "spread a rumour that I was bringing with me a great deal of German gold and that I would bribe the peasants." The same process developed on a small as on a large scale. The districts had their Miliukovs, their Kerenskys, and . . . their Lenins.

In Smolensk province the in.uence of the, Social Revolutionaries began to grow after the Provincial Congress of peasant deputies, which declared itself, as was to be expected, for a transfer of land to the people. The peasants swallowed this decision whole, but in distinction from their leaders they swallowed it in earnest. Thenceforward the number of Social Revolutionaries in the villages increased continuously. "Anyone who had been in the Social Revolutionary faction at any congress," relates one of the local party workers, "considered himself either a Social Revolutionary, or something very much like it." In the county seat there were two regiments, also under the in.uence of the Social Revolutionar-ies. The district land committee began to plow the landlord's land and mow his meadows. The provincial commissar, a Social Revolutionary, E.mov, issued threatening orders. The village was bewildered. Why, didn't this same commissar tell us that the peasants them-selves are now the government and that only he who works the land can bene.t by it? But as a matter of fact at the direction of this Social Revolutionary commissar, E.mov, 16 dis-trict land committees out of 17, in Yelnin county alone, were brought to trial in the coming months for seizing the landlords' land. Thus, in its own way, the romance between the Nar-odnik intelligentsia and the people drew to its denouement. In the whole county there were not more than three or four Bolsheviks. Their in.uence grew quickly, however, crowding out or splitting the Social Revolutionaries.

An All-Russian Peasant Congress was convoked in Petrograd at the beginning of May. The representation was largely upper crust, and in many cases accidental. If the workers' and soldiers' congresses continually lagged behind the course of events and the political evolution of the ma.s.ses, it is needless to say how far the representation of a scattered peas-antry lagged behind the actual mood of the Russian villages. As delegates there appeared, on the one hand, Narodnik intellectuals of the extreme right, a.s.sociated with the peasantry chie.y through commercial co-operatives or the reminiscences of childhood. The genuine 44 "people," on the other hand, were represented by the better off upper strata of the vil-lages, kulaks, shopkeepers, peasant co-operators. The Social Revolutionaries dominated this congress absolutely, and moreover in the person of their extreme right wing. At times, however, even they paused in fright before the reeking mixture of land greed and political "blackhundred-ism" which exuded from some of the deputies. In regard to the land lord problem an extremely radical position was formulated this congress: "Conversion of all land into national property for equal working use, without any indemnity." To be sure, the kulak understood equality only in the sense of his equality with the landlord, not at all in the sense of his equality with the hired hands. However, this little misunderstand-ing between the .ct.i.tious socialism of the Narodniks and the agrarian democratism of the muzhiks would come out in the open only in the future.

The Minister of Agriculture, Chernov, burning with a desire to present an Easter egg to the Peasant Congress, vainly busied himself with the project of a decree forbidding land sales. The Minister of Justice, Pereverzev, also counting himself something of a Social Revolutionary, issued instructions during the very days of the congress that in the various localities no obstacles should be put in the way of land sales. On this subject the peasant deputies raised a noise. But the matter did not move forward a step. The Provisional Government of Prince Lvov would not agree to lay a hand on the landlords' estates. The socialists did not want to lay a hand on the Provisional Government. And least of all was the staff of the congress capable of .nding a way out of the contradiction between its appet.i.te for land and its reactionism.

On the 20th of May, Lenin spoke at the Peasant Congress. It seemed, says Sukhanov, as though Lenin had landed in a pit of crocodiles. "However, the little muzhiks listened attentively and very likely not without sympathy, although they did not dare show it." The same thing was repeated in the soldiers' section, which was extremely hostile to the Bol-sheviks. In the style of the Social Revolutionaries and Mensheviks, Sukhanov tries to give Lenin's tactics on the land question an anarchist tint. This is not so far from the att.i.tude of Prince Lvov, who was always inclined to regard infringements of landlord rights as anar-chist activities. According to this logic, the revolution as a whole is equivalent to anarchy. In reality Lenin's way of posing the question was far deeper than it seemed to his critics. The instruments of the agrarian revolution, and primarily of the seizure of the landed es-tates, were to be the soviets of peasants' deputies with the land committees subject to them. In Lenin's eyes these soviets were the organs of a future state power, and that too a most concentrated power-namely, the revolutionary dictatorship. This is certainly far from anar-chism, from the theory and practice of non-government. Lenin said on April 28 "We favour an immediate transfer of the land to the peasants, with the highest degree of organisation possible. We are absolutely against anarchist seizures." Why, then, are we unwilling to await the Const.i.tuent a.s.sembly? For this reason: "The important thing for us is revolu-tionary initiative; the laws should be the result of it. If you wait until the law is written, and do not yourselves develop revolutionary energy, you will get neither law nor land." Are not these simple words the voice of all revolutions?

After a month's sitting, the Peasant Congress elected as a permanent inst.i.tution an exec-utive committee composed of two hundred st.u.r.dy village petty bourgeois and Narodniks of the professorial or trader type, adorning them at the summit with the decorative .gures of Breshkovskaia, Chaikovsky, Vera Figner and Kerensky. As president they elected the So-cial Revolutionary, Avksentiev, a man made for provincial banquets, but not for a peasant war.

Henceforward the more important questions were taken up at joint sessions of the two executive committees, that of the worker-soldiers and that of the peasants. This combina-tion entailed a great strengthening of the right wing which blended directly with the Kadets. In all cases where it was necessary to bring pressure against the workers, come down on the heads of the Bolsheviks, or threaten the independent Kronstadt republic with whips and scorpions, the two hundred hands, or rather the two hundred .sts, of the peasant executive committee would be lifted like a wall. Those people were fully in accord with Miliukov, that it was necessary to "make an end" of the Bolsheviks. But in regard to the landed estates, they had the views not of liberals, but of muzhiks, and this brought them into oppo-sition with the bourgeoisie and the Provincial Government. The Peasant Congress had not had time to disperse, when complaints began to arrive that its resolutions were being taken seriously in the localities and that peasants were going about the business of appropriating the land and equipment of the landlords. It was simply impossible to hammer into those stubborn peasant skulls the difference between words and deeds.

The Social Revolutionaries, frightened, sounded the retreat. At the beginning of June, at their Moscow congress, they solemnly condemned all arbitrary seizures of land: we must wait for the Const.i.tuent a.s.sembly. But their resolution proved impotent, not only to stop, but even to weaken the agrarian movement. The matter was further greatly complicated by the fact that in the Social Revolutionary party itself there was no small number of elements actually ready to go the limit with the muzhiks against the landlords. These left Social Revolutionaries, not yet having made up their minds to break with the party, helped the muzhiks get around the law, or at least interpret it in their own fashion.

In Kazan province, where the peasant movement a.s.sumed especially stormy propor-tions, the left wing of the Social Revolutionaries de.ned itself sooner than in other places. At their head stood Kalegaev, subsequently Commissar of Agriculture in the Soviet Gov-ernment during the bloc between the Bolsheviks and the Social Revolutionaries. From the middle of May there began in Kazan province a systematic transfer of land to the district committees. This measure was adopted most boldly of all in Spa.s.sk county, where a Bol-shevik stood at the head of the peasant organisations. The provincial authorities complained to the centre about the agrarian agitation carried on by Bolsheviks coming from Kronstadt, and added that the pious nun Tamara was arrested for "making objections."

From the province of Yorenezh the commissar reported on June 2: "Incidents of law-breaking and illegal activity in the province are growing more numerous every day, espe-cially in the agrarian matter." In Penza province also, the seizures of land were becom-ing more insistent. One of the district land committees in Kaluga province deprived the monastery of half of its meadow lands, and upon the complaint of the abbot the county committee resolved: that the meadows should be taken as a whole. It is not often that the higher inst.i.tution proves more radical than the lower. In Penza province an abbess, Maria, weeps over the seizure of the nunnery's land The local authorities are powerless."

In Viatka province the peasants closed up the property of the Skoropadskys, the family of the future Ukrainian hetman, and "until the decision of the question of landed property" resolved that n.o.body should touch the forests, and that the income from the property should be paid into the public treasury. In a series of other localities the land committees not only lowered the rent .ve or six times, but directed that it should not be paid to the landlords, but placed at the disposal of the committees until the question should be settled by the Const.i.tuent a.s.sembly. This was not a lawyer's but a muzhik's way-that is, a serious way-of postponing the question about land reforms until the Const.i.tuent a.s.sembly. In Saratov province the peasants who only yesterday forbade the landlords to cut down the forests have to-day begun to fell the trees themselves. Oftener and oftener the peasants are seizing the church and monastery lands, especially where there are few landlords. In Li.and, the Lettish farm workers, along with soldiers of the Lettish Battalion, undertake an organised seizure of the baronial lands.

The lumber kings from Vitebsk province cry loudly that the measures adopted by the land committees are destroying the lumber industry and preventing them from supplying the needs of the front. Those no less. disinterested patriots, the landlords of the Poltava province, grieve over the fact that agrarian disorders are making it impossible; for them to supply provisions for the army. Finally a congress of horse breeders in Moscow gives warning that peasant seizures are threatening with gigantic misfortunes the studs of the Fatherland. In those days the Procuror of the Holy Synod, the same one who called the members of that sacred inst.i.tution "idiots and scoundrels," complains to the government that in Kazan province the peasants are taking away from the monks not only lands and cattle, but also the .our necessary for the holy bread. In Petrograd province, two steps from the capital, the peasants drive the lessee out of a property and begin to run it themselves. The wide-awake Prince Yurussov again telegraphs on June 2 to the four winds: "In spite of a series of demands from me . . . etc., etc. . . . I again ask you to take the most decisive measures." The prince only forgets to say what measures.

In those times, when a gigantic job of tearing up the deepest roots of medievalist and serfdom was under way throughout the whole country, the Minister of Agriculture, Cher-nov, was gathering in his chancelleries materials for the. Const.i.tuent a.s.sembly. He in-tended to introduce the reform no otherwise than on the basis of the most accurate agricul-tural data and statistics of all possible kinds, and therefore kept urging the peasants with the sweetest of voices to wait until his exercises were .nished. This did not, however, pre-vent the landlords from kicking out the "Rural Minister" long before he had completed his sacramental tables.

On the basis of the archives of the Provisional Government young investigators have concluded that in March the agrarian movement had arisen with more or less strength in only 84 counties. In April, it had seized 174 counties; in May, 236; in June, 280; in July, 325. These .gures, however, do not give complete picture of the actual growth of the movement, because in each county the struggle a.s.sumed from month to month more and more stubborn and broad ma.s.s character.

In that .rst period, from March to July the peasants in their overwhelming majority are still refraining from direct acts of violence against the landlords, and from open seizures of the land. Yakovlev, the leader of the above-mentioned investigations, now People's Commissar of Agriculture of the Soviet Union, explains the comparatively peaceful tactics of the peasants by their trustfulness toward the bourgeoisie. This explanation must be declared invalid. To say nothing of the continual suspiciousness of the muzhik toward the city the authorities and cultivated society a government headed by Prince Lvov could not possibly dispose the peasants to trustfulness. If the peasants during this .rst period hardly ever resort to measures of open violence, and are still trying to give their activities the form of legal or semi-legal pressure, this is explained by their very distrustfulness of the government, combined with an insuf.cient trust in their own powers. The peasants are only pacing the take-off, feeling out the ground, measuring the resistance of the enemy-bringing pressure upon the landlords from all directions. "We do not want to rob," they recite, "we want to do everything nicely." They are not appropriating the meadow, but only cutting the hay. They are only compelling the landlords to rent them the land, but are themselves establishing the price. Or with a similar compulsion they are "buying" the land-but at a price designated by themselves. All these legal coverings, none too convincing to the landlord or the liberal jurists, are dictated in reality by a concealed but deep distrust of the government. "You won't get it by being good," says the muzhik to himself, "and force is dangerous-let's try foxiness." He would prefer, of course, to expropriate the landlord with his own consent.

"Throughout all these months," insists Yakovlev, "there prevails a wholly unique method of 'Peaceful' struggle with the landlord, a thing never before seen in history, a result of the peasants' trust in the bourgeoisie and the government of the bourgeoisie." These methods here declared to have been never before seen in history, are in reality the typical and in-evitable methods historically obligatory throughout the entire planet in the initial stages of a peasant war. The attempt to disguise its .rst rebel steps with legality, both sacred and secular, has from time immemorial characterised the struggle of every revolutionary cla.s.s, before it has gathered suf.cient strength and con.dence to break the umbilical cord which bound it to the old society. This is more completely true of the peasantry than of any other cla.s.s, for even in its best periods the peasantry advances in semi-darkness, looking upon its city friends with distrustful eyes. It has good reasons for this. The friends of an agrarian movement in its .rst steps are the agents of the liberal and radical bourgeoisie. And while promoting a part of the peasant demands, these friends are, nevertheless alarmed for the fate of bourgeois property rights, and therefore try their best to lead the peasant uprising on to the rails of bourgeois legality.

Long before the revolution, other factors operate in the same direction. From the milieu of the n.o.bility itself there arise preachers of conciliation. Leo Tolstoy looked deeper into the soul of the muzhik than anybody else. His philosophy of non-resistance to evil by violence was a generalisation of the .rst stages of the muzhik revolution. Tolstoy dreamed of a day when it would all come to pa.s.s "without robbery, by mutual consent." He built up a religious foundation under this tactic in the form of a puri.ed Christianity. Mahatma Gandhi is now ful.lling the same mission in India, only in a more practical form. If we go backward from the present day we shall have no dif.culty in .nding, similar "never before seen in history" phenomena in all sorts of religious, national, philosophical and political disguises, beginning with Biblical times and still earlier.

The peculiarity of the peasant uprising of 1917 lay only in the fact that the agents of bourgeois legality were people who called themselves socialists, and also revolutionists. But it was not they who determined the character of the peasant movement and its rhythm. The peasants followed the Social Revolutionaries only in so far as they could secure from them adequate formulas for a settlement with the landlord. At the same time the Social Revolutionaries served them in the capacity of a juridical disguise: this was, after all, the party of Kerensky, Minister of Justice and afterwards War Minister, and of Chernov, Minister of Agriculture. The delay in the promulgation of the necessary decrees would be explained by the district and county Social Revolutionaries as due to the resistance of the landlords and liberals. They would a.s.sure the peasants that "our people" in the government are doing their very best. To this of course the muzhik had no answer. But not suffering in the least from that precious "trustfulness," he deemed it necessary to help "our people" from below, and he did this so thoroughly that "our people" up above soon began to feel their very joints cracking.

The weakness of the Bolsheviks in relation to the peasant was temporary, and due to the fact that the Bolsheviks did not share the peasant illusions. The village could come to Bolshevism only through experience and disappointment. The strength the Bolsheviks lay in the fact that on the agrarian question, as on others, they were free of the divergence between word and deed.

General sociological considerations could not yield an a priori decision as to whether the peasantry as a whole were capable of rising against the landlords or not. The strengthening of capitalist tendencies in agriculture during the period between the two revolutions, the dividing off of a layer of wealthy farmers from the primitive commune, the extraordinary growth of rural co-operation administered by well-off and rich peasants-all this made it impossible to say with certainty which of two tendencies would weigh the most in the revolution: the agrarian caste antagonism between the peasantry and the n.o.bility, or the cla.s.s antagonism within the peasantry itself.

Lenin upon his arrival took a very cautious position upon this question. "The agrarian movement," he said on April 14, "is only a prophecy, not a fact.... We must be prepared for a union of the peasantry with the bourgeoisie." That was not a thought accidentally tossed off. On the contrary, Lenin insistently repeated it in many connections. At a party conference on April 24, he said attacking the "old Bolsheviks" who had accused him of underestimating the peasantry: "It is not permissible for a proletarian party to rest its hopes at this time on a community of interest with the peasantry. We are struggling to bring the peasantry over to our side, but they now stand to a certain degree consciously-on the, side of the capitalists." This demonstrates among other things how far Lenin was from that theory of an eternal harmony of interest between proletariat and peasantry subsequently attributed to him by the epigones. While admitting the possibility that the peasantry, as a caste, might act as a revolutionary factor, Lenin nevertheless was getting ready in April for a less favourable variant; namely, a stable bloc of the landlords, bourgeoisie and broad layers of the peasantry. "To try to attract the peasant now," he said, "means to throw ourselves on the mercy of Miliukov." Hence the conclusion: "Transfer the centre of gravity to the soviets of farm-hand deputies."

But the more favourable variant was realised. The agrarian movement from being a prophesy became a fact, revealing for a brief moment, but with extraordinary force, the superiority of the caste ties of the peasantry over the capitalistic antagonisms. The sovi-ets of farm-hand deputies attained signi.cance only in a few localities, chie.y the Baltic provinces. The land committees, on the contrary, became the instruments of the whole peasantry, who with their heavy-handed pressure converted them from chambers of concil-iation into weapons of agrarian revolution.

This fact that the peasantry as a whole found it possible once more-for the last time in their history-to act as a revolutionary factor, testi.es at once to the weakness of capitalist relations in the country and to their strength. The bourgeois economy had not yet by any means sucked up the land relations of medieval serfdom. At the same time the capitalist development had gone so far that it had made the old forms of landed property equally unbearable for all layers of the village. The interweaving of landlord and peasant property-quite often conscious arranged in such a way as to convert the landlord's rights in a trap for the whole commune-the frightful striped owners of the village land, and .nally the very recent antagonism between the land commune and the individualist owners-all this together created an unbearable tangle of land relationships from which it was impossible to escape by way of halfhearted legislative measures. Moreover, the peasants felt it more deeply than any agrarian theoreticians could. The experience of life handed down through a series of generations led them all to the same conclusion: we must bury both hereditary and acquired rights in the land, erase all boundary marks, and hand over the land, purged of historic deposits, to those who work it. This was the meaning of the muzhik's aphorism: the land is no man's, the land is G.o.d's. And in this same spirit the peasantry interpreted the Social Revolutionary programme: socialisation of the land. All Narodnik theories to the contrary notwithstanding, there was not in this one grain of socialism. The most audacious of agrarian revolutions has never yet by itself overstepped the bounds of the bourgeois regime. That socialisation which was to guarantee to each toiler his "right to the land," was with the preservation of unrestricted market relations, an utter Utopia. Menshevism criticised this Utopia from the liberal-bourgeois point of view. Bolshevism, on the other hand, exposed the progressive democratic tendency which was .nding in these theories of the Social Revolutionaries a Utopian expression. This exposure of the genuine historic meaning of the Russian agrarian movement was one of the greatest services of Lenin.

Miliukov wrote that for him, "as a sociologist and investigator of Russian historic evolution"-that is, a man surveying the course of events from a height-"Lenin and Trot-sky are leading a movement far nearer to Pugatchev and Razin, to Bolotnikov-to the eigh-teenth and seventeenth centuries of our history-than to the last word in European anarcho-syndicalism." That dole of truth which is contained in this a.s.sertion of the liberal sociologist-leaving aside his reference to "anarcho-syndicalism" which was dragged in here for some unknown reason-militates not against the Bolsheviks, but rather against the Russian bour-geoisie, their belatedness and political insigni.cance. The Bolsheviks are not to blame that those colossal peasant movements of past ages did not lead to a democratisation of social relations in Russia-without cities to lead them it was unattainable!-nor are the Bolsheviks to blame that the so-called liberation of the peasants in 1861 was carried out in such a way as to involve stealing of the communal land, enslavement of the peasant to the state, and complete preservation of the caste system. One thing is true: the Bolsheviks were obliged to carry through in the .rst quarter of the twentieth century that which was not carried through-or not even undertaken at all-in the seventeenth, eighteenth and nineteenth cen-turies. Before taking up their own great task, they had to clear the ground of the historic rubbish of the old ruling cla.s.ses and the old ages. We may add that the Bolsheviks at least ful.lled this preliminary task most conscientiously. This Miliukov will now hardly venture to deny.

CHAPTER 21.

SHIFTS IN THE Ma.s.sES.

In the fourth month of its existence the February regime was already choking from its own contradictions. June had begun with the all-Russian congress of the soviets, whose task was to create a political cover for the advance on the front. The beginning of the advance coin-cided in Petrograd with a gigantic demonstration of workers and soldiers organised by the Compromisers against the Bolsheviks, but which turned out to be a Bolshevik demonstra-tion against the Compromisers. The growing indignation of the ma.s.ses led after two weeks to another demonstration, which broke out without any summons from above, led to b.l.o.o.d.y encounters, and has gone into history under the name of "the July days." Taking place ex-actly halfway between the February and the October revolutions, the July semi-insurrection closes the former and const.i.tutes a kind of dress rehearsal for the latter. We shall end this volume on the threshold of the July days, but before pa.s.sing over to those events whose arena in June was Petrograd, it is necessary to have a glance at certain processes which were taking place in the ma.s.ses.

To a certain liberal who had af.rmed at the beginning of May that the more the gov-ernment moves to the left, the more the country moves to the right-meaning by "country," of course, "the possessing cla.s.ses"-Lenin replied: "the country of workers and poorer and poorest peasants, I a.s.sure you, citizen, is a thousand times farther to the left than the Cher-novs and Tseretellis, and a hundred times farther than we. Live a little and you will see." Lenin estimated that the workers and peasants were "a hundred times" farther to the left than the Bolsheviks. This may seem a little unfounded: the workers and soldiers were still supporting the Compromisers, and the majority of them were on their guard against the Bolsheviks. But Lenin was delving deeper. The social interests of the ma.s.ses, their hatred and their hope, were still only seeking a mode of expression. The policy of the Compro-misers had been for then a .rst stage. The ma.s.ses were immeasurably to the left of the Chernovs and Tseretellis, but were themselves still unconscious of their radicalism. Lenin 292.

was right in a.s.serting that the ma.s.ses were to the left of the Bolsheviks, for the party in its immense majority had not yet realised the mightiness of the revolutionary pa.s.sions that were simmering in the depths of the awakening people. The indignation of the ma.s.ses was nourished by the dragging-out of the war, the economic ruin and the malicious inactivity of the government.

The measureless European-Asiatic plain had become a country only thanks to railroads. The war struck them most heavily of all. Transport was steadily breaking down; the num-ber of disabled locomotives on certain roads had reached 50 per cent. At headquarters learned engineers read reports to the effect that no later than in six months the railroad transport would be in a state of complete paralysis. In these calculations there was a certain amount of conscious spreading of panic. But the breakdown of transport had really reached threatening dimensions. It had created tie-ups on the roads, intensi.ed the disturbance of commodity exchange, and augmented the high cost of living.

The food situation in the cities was becoming worse and worse. The agrarian movement had established its centre in 43 provinces. The .ow of grain to the army and the towns was dangerously dwindling. In the more fertile regions, to be sure, there were still tens and hundreds of millions of poods of surplus grain, but the purchasing operations at a .xed price gave extremely unsatisfactory results: and moreover it was dif.cult to deliver the ready grain to the centres owing to the breakdown of transport. From the autumn of 1916 on, an average of about one half of the expected provision trains arrived at the front. Petrograd, Moscow and other industrial centres received no more than 10 per cent of what they needed. They had almost no reserves. The standard of living of the city ma.s.ses oscillated between under-nourishment and hunger. The arrival of the Coalition Government was signalised with a democratic order forbidding the baking of white bread. It will be several years after that before the "French roll" will again. appear in the capital. There was not enough b.u.t.ter. In June the consumption of sugar was cut down by de.nite rationing for the whole country.

The mechanism of the market, broken by the war, had not been replaced by that state regulation to which the advanced capitalist governments had been compelled to resort, and which alone permitted Germany to hold on through four years of war.

Threatening symptoms of economic collapse appeared at every step. The fall in produc-tivity in the factories was caused, aside from the breakdown of transport, by the wearing out of equipment, the lack of raw materials and supplies, the .ux of personnel, bad .nancing the universal uncertainty.

The princ.i.p.al plants were still working for the war. Orders had been distributed for two or three years ahead. Meantime the workers were unwilling to believe that the war would continue. The newspapers were publishing appalling .gures of war pro.ts. The cost of living was rising. The workers were awaiting a change. The technical and administrative personnel of the factories were uniting in unions and advancing their demands. In this sphere the Mensheviks and Social Revolutionaries dominated. The regime of the factories was disintegrating. All joints were weakening. The prospects of the war and of the national economy were becoming misty, and property rights unreliable. Pro.ts were falling off, dangers growing, the bosses losing their taste for production under the conditions created by the revolution. The bourgeoisie as a whole was entering upon a policy of economic defeatism. Temporary losses and de.cits due to economic paralysis were in their eyes the overhead expenses of a struggle with the revolution which threatened the foundations of "culture." At the same time the virtuous press was accusing the workers from day to day of maliciously sabotaging industry, stealing raw materials, unnecessarily burning up fuel in order to produce stoppages. The falsity of these accusations exceeded all bounds, and since this was the press of a party which actually stood at the head of the Coalition power, the indignation of the workers naturally transferred itself to the Provisional Government.

The industrialists had not forgotten the experience of 1905 when a correctly organised lockout actively supported by the government had not only broken up the struggle of the workers for an eight-hour day, but also had rendered the monarchy an invaluable service in the matter of wiping out the revolution. The question of a lockout was now again brought up for discussion at a Council of the Congresses of industry and Trade-thus innocently they named the .ghting organ of trusti.ed and syndicated capital. One of the leaders of industry, the engineer explained later in his memoirs why the idea of a lockout was rejected: "This would have looked like a blow at the rear of the army . . . The consequences -of such a step, in the absence of governmental support, looked to the majority very dark." The whole misfortune lay in the absence of a "real" government. The Provisional Government was paralysed by the Soviet; the reasonable leaders of the Soviet were paralysed by the ma.s.ses; the workers in the factories were armed; moreover, almost every factory had in the neighbourhood a friendly regiment or battalion. In these circ.u.mstances these gentlemen industrialists considered a lockout "odious in its national aspect." But they did not by any means renounce the idea of an offensive, but merely adapted it to existing circ.u.mstances, giving it not a simultaneous, but a creeping character. According to the diplomatic expres-sion of Auerbach, the industrialists ".nally came to the conclusion that an object lesson would be given by life itself, in the form of an inevitable gradual closing of the factories, so to speak, one at a time-a thing which soon did actually occur." In other words, renounc-ing a demonstrative lockout as involving "an enormous responsibility," this Council of the United Industries recommended to its members to close up the enterprises one at a time, seeking out a respectable pretext.

This plan of a creeping lockout was carried out with remarkable system. Leaders of Capital like the Kadet Kutler, a former Minister in the cabinet of Witte, read signi.cant re-ports about the breakdown of industry, laying the blame, not on the three years of war, but on the three months of revolution. "In the course of two or three weeks," prophesied the im-patient newspaper Rech, "the shops and factories will begin to shut down one after another," A threat was here dressed up in the form of a prophecy. Engineers, professors, journalists started a campaign in both the general and the specialised press, in which a bridling of the workers was presented as the fundamental condition of salvation. The minister-industrialist Konovalov had declared on the 17 of May, just before his demonstrative withdrawal from government: "If there does not soon come a sobering up of cloudy heads ... we will witness a stoppage of tens and hundreds of plants."

In the middle of June a Congress of Trade and Industry demands of the Provisional Gov-ernment "a radical break with the system of developing the revolution." We have already heard this demand made by the generals: "Stop the Revolution." But the industrialists make it more concise: "The source of all evil is not only the Bolsheviks, but also the socialist parties. Only a .rm iron hand can save Russia."

Having prepared the political setting, the industrialists pa.s.sed from words to deeds. In the course of March and April, 129 small plants involving 9,000 workers were shut down; in May, 108 with a like number of workers; in June, 125 plants with 38,000 workers were shut down; in July, 206 plants threw out on the streets 48,000 workers. The lockout devel-oped in a geometric progression. But that was only a beginning. Textile Moscow got into motion after Petrograd, and the provinces after Moscow. The manufacturers would refer to an absence of fuel, raw materials, accessories, credits. The factory committees would interfere in the matter and in many cases indubitably establish the fact of a malicious dis-location of industry with the goal of bringing pressure on the workers, or holding up the government for subsidies. Especially impudent were the foreign capitalists acting through the mediation of their emba.s.sies. In several cases the sabotage was so obvious that as a re-sult of the exposures of the shop committees the industrialists found themselves compelled to re-open the factories, thus laying bare one contradiction after another. The revolution soon arrived at the chief of them all: that between the social character of industry and the private ownership of its tools and equipment. In the interests of victory over the workers, the entrepreneur closes the factory as though it were a question of a mere snuff box, and not an enterprise necessary to the life of the whole nation.

The banks, having successfully boycotted the Liberty Loan, took a militant att.i.tude against .scal encroachments on big capital. In a letter addressed to the Ministry of Finance the bankers "prophesied" a .ow of capital abroad and a transfer of papers to the safes in case of radical .nancial reforms. In other words the banker-patriots threatened a .nancial lockout to complete the industrial one. The government hastened to accede: after all, the organisers of this sabotage were respected people who had been compelled as the result of the war and the revolution to risk their capital, and not any old Kronstadt sailors who risked nothing but their heads.

The Executive Committee could not fail to understand that the responsibility for the economic fate of the country, especially since the open a.s.sociation of the socialists in the government, would lie in the eyes of the ma.s.ses upon the ruling Soviet majority. The economic department of the Executive Committee had worked out a broad programme of state regulation of the economic life. Under pressure of the threatening situation, the proposals of very moderate economists had proved much more radical than their authors. "For many branches of industry," read this programme, "the time is ripe for a state trade monopoly (bread, meat, salt. leather); for others, the conditions are ripe for the formation of regulating state trusts (coal, oil, metals, sugar, paper); and .nally, for almost all branches of industry contemporary conditions demand a regulative partic.i.p.ation of the state in the distribution of raw materials and .nished products, and also in the .xation of prices.... Simultaneously with this it is necessary to place under control ... all credit inst.i.tutions."

On May 16, the Executive Committee with its bewildered political leadership adopted the proposals of the economists almost without debate, and backed them up with a unique warning addressed to the government: It should take upon itself "the task of a planned organisation of the national industry and labour," calling to memory that in consequence of the non ful.lment of this task "the old regime fell and it had been necessary to reorganise the Provisional Government." In order to pump up their courage the Compromisers were scaring themselves.

"The programme is excellent," wrote Lenin, "both the control and the governmentalising of the trusts, also the struggle with speculation, and liability for labour. . . . It is necessary to recognise this programme of 'frightful' Bolshevism, for no other programme and no other way out of the actually threatening terrible collapse can be found." However, the whole question was: Who was to carry out this excellent programme? Would it be the Coalition? The answer was given immediately. The day after the adoption by the Executive Committee of the economic programme, the Minister of Trade and Industry, Konovalov, resigned and slammed the door behind him. He was temporarily replaced by the engineer Palchinsky, a no less loyal but more energetic representative of big capital. The minister-socialists did not even dare seriously propose the programme of the Executive Committee to their liberal colleagues. Chernov, you remember, was vainly trying to get the government to adopt a veto on land sales. In answer to its growing dif.culties, the government, on its side, brought forward a programme of unloading Petrograd, that is, transferring shops and factories into the depths of the country. This programme was motivated both by military considerations-the danger that the Germans might seize the capital-and by economic: Petrograd was too far from the sources of fuel and raw materials. This unloading would have meant the liquidation of the Petrograd industries for a series of months and years. The political aim was to scatter throughout the whole country the vanguard of the working cla.s.s. Parallel with this the military power brought forward one pretext after another for deporting from Petrograd the revolutionary military units.

Palchinsky tried with all his might to convince the workers' section of the Soviet of the advantages of an unloading. To accomplish this task against the will of the workers was impossible. But the workers would not agree. The unloading scheme got forward as little as the regulation of industry the break down was going deeper. Prices were rising. The silent lockout was broadening, and the therewith unemployment. The government was marking time. Miliukov wrote later: "The ministry was simply swimming with the current, and the current was running in the Bolshevik channel." Yes, the current was running in the Bolshevik channel.

The proletariat was the chief motive force of revolution. At the same time the revolution was giving shape to the proletariat. And the proletariat was badly in need of this.

We have observed the decisive role of the Petrograd workers in the February days. The most militant positions were occupied by the Bolsheviks. Immediately after the overturn, however, the Bolsheviks retired into the background. The Compromise parties advanced to the front of the political stage. They turned over the power to the liberal bourgeoisie. Patriotism was the countersign of this bloc. Its a.s.sault was so strong that at least one half of the leaders of the Bolshevik Party capitulated to it. With Lenin's arrival the course of the party changed abruptly, and thereafter its in.uence grew swiftly. In the armed April demonstration the front ranks of the workers and soldiers were already trying to break the chain of the Compromisers. But after a .rst effort they fell back. The Compromisers remained at the helm.

Later on, after the October revolution, a good deal was written to the effect that the Bolsheviks owed their victory to the peasant army, tired of the war. That is a very super.cial explanation. The opposite statement would be nearer to the truth: If the Compromisers got a dominant position in the February revolution, it is thanks most of all to the unusual place occupied in the life of the country by a peasant army. If the revolution had developed in peace time, the leading role of the proletariat would have had from the beginning a far more sharply expressed character. Without the war the revolutionary victory would have come later, and if you do not count the victims of the war, would have been paid for at a higher price. But it would not have left a place for an inundation of compromising patriotic moods. At any rate, the Russian Marxists who had prophesied long before these events a conquest of proletariat in the course of the bourgeois revolution did not take for their starting point the temporary moods army, but the cla.s.s structure of the Russian society. That prophecy was wholly con.rmed. But the fundamental correlation of cla.s.ses was refracted through the war and temporarily shifted by the pressure of the army-that is, by an organisation of decla.s.sed and armed peasants. It was just this arti.cial social formation which so extraordinarily strengthened the hold of the petty bourgeois compromise policy, and made possible an eight-months' period of experiments, weakening to the country and the revolution.

However, the question as to the roots of compromisism is not exhausted by reference to the peasant army. In the proletariat itself, in its make-up, its political level, we must seek supplementary causes for the temporary entrenchment of the Mensheviks and Social Rev-olutionaries. The war brought vast changes in the const.i.tution and mood of the working cla.s.s. If the preceding years had been a time of revolutionary af.ux, the war sharply broke off that process. The mobilisation was thought out and conducted not only from a military, but still more from a police viewpoint. The government made haste to clean out from the industrial districts the more active and restless groups of workers. We may consider it es-tablished that the mobilisation of the .rst months of war tore away from the industries as many as 40 per cent of the workers, chie.y the skilled workers. Their absence, having a very damaging effect on the course of production, called out hot protests from the industri-alists in proportion to their high pro.ts from the war industries. A further destruction of the workers' cadres was thus stopped. The workers indispensable to the industries remained in the capacity of men on military duty. The breaches effected by the mobilisation were made up by immigrants from the villages, small-town people, badly quali.ed workers, women, boys. The percentage of women in industry rose from 32 to 40 per cent.

The process of renewal and dilution of the proletariat reached its extreme dimensions in the capital. For the years of the war, 1914-17, the number of workers in large enterprises, those hiring more than 500, almost doubled in the Petrograd province. In consequence of the liquidation of plants and factories in Poland, and especially in the Baltic states, and still more in consequence of the general growth of the war industries, there were concentrated in Petrograd by 1917 about 400,000 workers in plants and factories. Out of these, 335,000 were in the one hundred and forty giant plants. The more militant elements of the Petro-grad proletariat played no small part at the front in giving form to the revolutionary moods of the army. But those yesterday's immigrants from the villages who replaced them, often well-to-do peasants and shopkeepers hiding from the front, women and boys, were far more submissive than the ranking workers. To this we must add that the quali.ed workers who found themselves in the position of men on military duty-and of these there were hundreds of thousands-observed an extraordinary caution through fear of being, thrown over to the front. Such was the social basis of the patriotic mood, which had prevailed with a part of the workers even under the czar. But there was no stability in this patriotism. The mer-ciless military and police repression, the redoubled exploitation, defeats at the front, and industrial breakdown, pushed the workers into the struggle. Strikes. during the war were predominantly economic in character, however, and distinguished by far more moderation than before the war. The weakening of the cla.s.s was increased by the weakening of its party. After the arrest and exile of the Bolshevik Duma deputies, there was carried out with the help of a previously prepared hierarchy of provocateurs a general smash-up of the Bol-shevik organisations, from which the party did not recover until the February revolution. During 1915 and 1916 the diluted working cla.s.s had to go through an elementary school of struggle before the partial economic strikes and demonstrations of hungry women could in February 1917 fuse in a general strike, and draw the army into an insurrection.

The Petrograd proletariat thus entered the February revolution not only in a hetero-geneous condition, not yet having amalgamated its const.i.tuent parts, but with a lowered political level even of its advanced layers. In the provinces it was still worse. It was this revival of political illiteracy and semi-illiteracy in the proletariat, caused by the war, which created the second condition necessary for the temporary dominance of the Compromise parties.

A revolution teaches and teaches fast. In that lies its strength. Every week brings some-thing new to the ma.s.ses. Every two months creates an epoch. At the end of February, the insurrection. At the end of April, a demonstration of the armed workers and soldiers in Petrograd. At the beginning of July, a new a.s.sault, far broader in scope and under more resolute slogans. At the end of August, Kornilov's attempt at an overthrow beaten off by the ma.s.ses. At the end of October, conquest of power by the Bolsheviks. Under these events, so striking in their rhythm, molecular processes were taking place, welding the het-erogeneous parts of the working cla.s.s into one political whole. In this again the chief role was played by the strike.

Frightened by the lightning of revolution striking in the midst of their baccha.n.a.lia of war pro.ts, the industrialists made concessions in the .rst weeks to the workers. The Petrograd factory owners even agreed, with quali.cations and exceptions, to the eight-hour day. But that did not quiet things, since the standard of living continually sank. In May the Executive Committee was obliged to concede that with the increasing cost of living the situation of the workers "borders for many categories upon chronic starvation." The mood in the worker districts was becoming more and more nervous and tense. What depressed them most of all was the absence of prospects. The ma.s.ses are capable of enduring the heaviest deprivations when they understand what for, but the new regime was more and more revealing itself to them as a mere camou.age of the old relations against which they had revolted in February. This they would not endure.

The strikes were especially stormy among the more backward and exploited groups of workers. Laundry workers, dyers, coopers, trade and industrial clerks, structural work-ers, bronze workers, unskilled workers, shoemakers, paper-box makers, sausage makers, furniture workers, were striking, layer after layer, throughout the month of June. The metal-workers were beginning, on the contrary, to play a restraining role. To the advanced workers it was becoming more and more clear that individual economic strikes in the con-ditions of war, breakdown and in.ation could not bring a serious improvement, that there must be some change in the very foundations. The lockout not only made the workers favourable to the demand for the control of industry, but even pushed them toward the thought of the necessity of taking the factories into the hands of the state. This inference seemed the more natural in that the majority of private factories were working for the wax, and that alongside them were state enterprises of the same type. Already in the summer of 1917 delegations began to arrive in the capital from the far ends of Russia, delegations of workers and clerks, with a plea that the factories should be taken over by the treasury, since the shareholders had stopped .nancing them. But the government would not hear of this; consequently it was necessary to change the government. The Compromisers opposed this. The workers began to shift their front against the Compromisers. The Putilov factory with its 40,000 workers was a stronghold of the Social Revolutionaries during the .rst months of the revolution. But its garrison did not long defend it against Bolsheviks. At the head of the Bolshevik attack most often was to be seen Volodarsky, a tailor in the past. A Jew who had spent some years in America and spoke English well, Volodarsky was a magni.cent ma.s.s orator, logical, ingenious and bold. His American intonation gave a unique expressive-ness to his resonant voice, ringing out concisely at meetings of many thousands. "From the moment of his arrival in the Narva district," says the worker Minichev, "the ground in the Putilov factory began to slip under the feet of the Social Revolutionary gentlemen, and in the course of something like two months the Putilov workers had gone over to the Bolsheviks."

The growth of strikes, and of the cla.s.s struggle in general, almost automatically raised the in.uence of the Bolsheviks. In all cases where it was a question of life-interests the workers became convinced that the Bolsheviks had no ulterior motives, that they were concealing nothing, and that you could rely on them. In the hours of con.ict all the work-ers tended toward the Bolsheviks, the non-party workers, the Social Revolutionaries, the Mensheviks. This is explained by the fact that the factory and shop committees, waging a struggle for the lif