Russia, today and tomorrow

Front matter

RUSSIA

TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW

THE MACMILLAN COMPANY

Preface

This book has its origin in my intercourse with American audiences during the past three months. Hence — its dedication. It could not have been written before the end of 1921, nor could it have taken its present form in surroundings less sympathetic or more inclined to take sides in the events here described. It was necessary for the cycle of events in Russia to come to a close, before its meaning could become patent and a criterium be found by which these events could be judged in their unity and completion. I think this is now the case with both the "White" and the "Red" movements in Russia. The former ran its course with the loss of the last patch of anti-Bolshevist territory in the Crimea; the latter — with the Great Russian famine. General Wrangel's defeat manifested the degeneration of the "White" movement. The famine of 1921 demonstrated Russia's exhaustion under the Bolshevist rule. Whatever happens in the time to come, these two phenomena will mark the turning point in the Russian Revolution.

I gladly accepted the invitation to deliver a course of eight lectures on Russia at the Lowell Institute, Boston, Mass., in October and November, 1921, because by this time I had come to a definite conclusion as to the meaning and the place of the Russian events of the past four years in the history of our Revolution. The reader will see that I draw a distinction between the Revolution as

vii viii PREFACE

a great historical process which transforms human psychology and institutions, and its passing stages and varying moods. In 1903-1905 I had occasion to explain to Chicago and Boston audiences the origin of our revolutionary process; now I was tempted to analyze its present significant phase.

It is important for the reader to discriminate between the passing form and the lasting substance of the Russian Revolution, as well as between its negative and positive aspects. While the destructive aspect of the Revolution is of necessity presented in detail in this book, I wish that the constructive processes of the Revolution should not be overlooked. We are witnessing the birth of the Russian democracy, in the midst of the ruins of the past, which will never return. One must not be impatient with the great and complicated revolutionary process which in other countries took decades, if not centuries, for its completion.

The double title of this book, "Russia To-day and To-morrow," is intended to keep before the mind of the reader that basic idea of the Russian Revolution. One chapter is devoted to an attempt to foretell the outlines of the coming Russia, as a result of the Revolution. The reader will observe, however, that the conception of that Russia of to-morrow is present throughout the book and forms the thread which permits me to find myself and to lead the reader through the labyrinth of events.

I think that there are two requisites necessary for a successful presentation of my country's case before the American public opinion: the presentation must be sincere and truly democratic in spirit. Were I not certain of my ability to meet these conditions, I would not

PREFACE ix

have come to America. I found my audiences here extremely interested in the subject, I saw what they wanted of me, and I finally decided to present in book form the contents of miylectures and addresses. Of course, I had to write this book afresh from my notes, and this gave me the opportunity to expand most of the chapters far beyond the space of an hour's lecture.

The first eight chapters of the book correspond with my lectures at the Lowell Institute (October 25-November 18, and November 1-November 22, 1921) and I have preserved their titles. The ninth and the tenth chapters, in their initial form, formed the contents of my address before the Civic Forum in New York, delivered, under the title "Russia To-day and To-morrow," at the Town Hall, on November 11, 1921. The ninth chapter ("Russia To-morrow") is closely connected with the lectures delivered in Boston, and presents their natural conclusion.

The last two chapters deal with the relations, diplomatic and intellectual, between Russia and the outside world. I did not intend to exhaust the question, but only to concentrate attention on the two aspects which are of special interest to America. The Russian, and especially the Siberian question, as it might have been put before the Washington Conference, could not be omitted at the moment when the Conference was in the center of the world's attention. That is why I have treated that problem in greater detail than in my lecture before the Civic Forum. The Siberian- Japanese problem formed the subject of my lectures at the Cleveland Reserve University (at the McBride Foundation) and at the Chicago University, on December 13 and 14. Of course, in its final form the subx PREFACE

ject has been brought up to the present moment, and the chapter includes an analysis of the stand taken by the Washington Conference; the readers will also find in this chapter new material brought to Washington by the Vladivostok delegation. The eleventh chapter ("Russia's Contribution to the World Civilization") reproduces a lecture delivered at Columbia University, on November 28, 1921. Its content is not closely connected with the other parts of the book, but I followed the advice of some of my hearers, who found that in "Russia of To-morrow" the noblest side of the Russian life of yesterday and to-day, its great- culture, could not be omitted.

I cannot mention here all the opportunities afforded me to address numerous American audiences on the various phases of the Russian problem. The text of some of those addresses is preserved in the publication of the respective institutions.* I can only say that it was the free exchange of opinions, of questions and answers, which particularly stimulated me to fix my views in this book and which drew my attention to special points needing and deserving elucidation.

I hope that this book will meet with the same attention which was accorded its author by his American audiences.

Paul N. Miliukov.

New York, February 7, 1922.

* See "The Consensus," published by the National Economic League of Boston, Vol. 7, No. 1, January, 1922; also the "Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science." Philadelphia, March, 1922.

Contents

CHAPTER PAGE

I. Why the Revolution Could Not Be

Averted 1

Chapter I. Why The Revolution Could Not Be Averted

Seventeen years ago, in 1904, I addressed an American audience on the subject of the Russian Crisis. Some of my present readers may recall, in substance, what I then said. I am now going to speak on the Russian Catastrophe. In this catastrophe, we witness the end, or, at any rate, the continuation of the same process which then began. This change from "Crisis" to "Catastrophe" may convey to you the tragic meaning of the revolutionary process which has developed in Russia during these seventeen years.

In 1904 the first Russian Revolution was approaching. It took place in the year following my first coming here. The symptoms of the Revolution were so clear and obvious to everybody, except the Tsar and his Government, that it was not very difficult to play the prophet. The reasons why the first Russian Revolution, in 1905, became unavoidable were discussed in my previous lectures. 1

I am going to tell you now what has happened since

x "Russia and its Crisis," 1905, Chicago University Press.

and just what made necessary and unavoidable the second Russian Revolution in 1917.

The chief reason was that the first RevoluUun proved abortive. In a moment of panic the Tsar signed the renowned October (30) Manifesto of 1905. Had this promise been seriously meant and had it resulted in a real constitution and a sound beginning of political freedom been made at that time, the second Revolution might not have happened at all. But, as a matter of fact, the Tsar never wished to curtail his prerogatives. His view, and especially the view of the Tsarina, was that it was his moral duty, to pass unimpaired the whole inheritance that he had received from God and from his ancestors to his heir and successor. This uncompromising view, common to all autocrats, made tragic the Tsar's destiny. But it also caused the Russian revolutionary process- to continue and at the same time it extremely complicated its issues.

The Tsar soon repented having yielded even so little as he really had given to the Russian people. He was always on the alert for a favorable moment to come, to recover his complete autocratic power. The young popular representative, the "Duma," on the other hand, wished to extend its power over the extremely narrow limits of the sham constitution of 1906. The Duma insisted on being a real representation of the nation and a real legislative organ of power. Nicholas II remained hostile to his creation. He preserved his right to nominate his ministers and half of the members of the Upper House, and he made unlimited use of that right in order to do what he liked and to paralyze every action of the Duma which was not to his taste. That is why the decade of years which p f gecj between the two Revolutions (1906-1917) was niled with relentless struggle between the Duma and the Tsar's ministers, which made peaceful progress impossible for Russia.

This struggle passed through two stages, which correspond to the periods of the sessions of the two first and two last Dumas. The first stage, which includes the activity of the first two Dumas, was short and violent (1906-7). The second stage, that of the last two Dumas (1907-1917), was comparatively long and outwardly quiet. But there was no quiet in the country. A second conflict, much more serious than the first, was ripening, and everybody knew it.

The political party I belong to (the Constitutional- Democratic, founded in 1905, the first of the Russian constitutional parties) through all four Dumas never ceased to be in opposition to the Tsar's Government. In fact, all the parties that claimed to represent democracy, either bourgeois or socialistic, were on the same side. We, I mean my party, the "Cadets" (the Constitutional-Democratic) had been in the majority in the first Duma. An attempt was made by the Tsar, through his ministers, to approach me on the subject of building a majority Cabinet. But the mediators were not in earnest. They were anxious to have some popular names in the Cabinet, but they were not prepared to make any substantial concessions to our political program. Of course, under such conditions, we were unable to take the power and the responsibility before the nation. The negotiations came to nothing, and the chance for a peaceful evolution was lost. The alternative, proposed to the Tsar by his bureaucratic minister, Mr. Stolypin, was, to dissolve the first Duma, "the Duma of popular hopes," as it was called. Unfortunately, the Tsar decided to take that advice. The Duma was dissolved after 70 days of existence. An appeal for passive resistance, issued by the opposition from Viborg, fell flat. However, the nation's answer to the dissolution of the Duma was given on the occasion of new elections. The electors, in spite of all exertions of the Government (not yet quite experienced in the art of electioneering), sent to the second Duma — the Duma of the "popular wrath" — a socialist majority, instead of the former bourgeois radical one. Thenceforth, the fate of the popular representation was sealed. A compromise had been possible with the constitutionalist majority, but, as has been shown, it did not materialize. No compromise whatever was possible with the socialist parties, who were then extremist and revolutionary. After 100 days of existence, in spite of its very cautious tactics, the second Duma was also dissolved. The motive — this time it was a very serious one — was found in the attempt of an extreme socialist faction to make use of their parliamentary seats to prepare for a revolution in Russia.

The second stage began with an open breach of the Constitution. Mr. Stolypin, under the influence of the nobility and reactionary parties, persuaded the Tsar, before summoning the third Duma, to change the electoral law. According to the Fundamental Law of 1905, granted by the Tsar himself, this change could not have been introduced without the consent of the Duma. But the Constitution was violated. A new electoral statute was promulgated by the Tsar's order on June 16, 1907, which artificially transferred the majority from the democratic parties to the privileged class of the nobility and the gentry. 1

From that moment the Duma lost all its influence on the nation. Political parties, representing the masses, were declared "illegal" and officially prosecuted. To take their place in the Duma, new parties were built under the auspices of the Government, and these represented the privileged classes or reactionary political groups. It was this fictitious representation, ready to follow every hint of the Government, which functioned as a legislative organ during the decade of 1907-17. Only such laws had a chance to pass as were desired or introduced by the Government. All exertions of the opposition to give the form of laws to the general principles proclaimed by the October manifesto of 1905, such as liberty of speech, liberty of conscience, of meetings, locomotion, inviolability of person, were* regularly defeated by the governmental majority or were postponed ad Kalendas Grcecas. On the other hand, important legislation was passed securing the landed

^his important fact can be illustrated by the change in social composition of the Duma before and after the breach of the Constitution.

Before 1907 After 1907

(per cent.) (per cent.)

Landed gentry 34 51

Peasants 43 22.4

Burgesses 23 24.2

Workingmen 3.4 2.3

It must be added that under the electoral regulation of June 16> 1907, peasants' and workmen's deputies were elected from a number of candidates not by themselves but by a group of biggest landowners and richest burgesses, at their choice, in electoral assemblies of the Provinces. This explains why the peasants' representatives, who filled up the ranks of the opposition in the first two Dumas, now almost exclusively sat on the backs of the Government parties, thus enforcing the absolute majority of the landed gentry. See my article on "The Representative System in Russia," in "Russian Realities and Problems," Cambridge, Great Britain, 1917.

However, there was another side to that domination of the Duma by the Government, — and it must not be overlooked. In such questions as budget, education, national defense, the governmental majority, from patriotic considerations or under the influence of public opinion, was often moved to vote with the opposition against the Government. Such votes, of course, had no practical consequences. They did not overthrow the Cabinets. The vote of mistrust in no way deprived the ministers of the Tsar's confidence. On the contrary: it almost seemed that the more a minister succeeded in antagonizing the Duma, the more reliable he was considered to be in that contest between the old regime and the Russian democracy.

As a result, the activity of the Duma — even in its chastened form — far from removing the danger of a new revolution, rather contributed to increase this danger. Any constructive work which might satisfy public needs and thus help to mitigate popular disaffection, was made impossible by the governmental majority and by the Upper House of a unique structure: "a cemetery of the Duma's good intentions," as witty people called it. On the other hand, open criticism of the Government's policy could not be forbidden to the opposition. The Duma's sittings, which were public, soon became the only place where free speech was heard, and no censure was able to stifle severe exposure of the Government's secret designs. The names of the opposition speakers in the Duma became widely known all over the country. This explains why, under the second Revolution, the opposition leaders of the Duma automatically became leaders of the popular movement, in which the Duma itself was unable to play any part.

At the same time, public debates on questions of budget, legislation, foreign politics, military and naval defense contributed to lift the veil which until then had kept back the unqualified laymen from the sanctuary of governmental practice. Due to the Duma, political discussion was becoming common property.

In the general opinion, even of the moderate circles, the second Revolution was bound to come. Moreover, everybody was sure that this revolution was bound to be a greater success than the first one, as a result of the better political education of the masses.

This is a very brief and rapid outline of the political events which contributed to prepare the second Russian Revolution, in 1917. But you could never realize just why an uprising against such a tremendous power as that of the old autocracy seemed to be proved so easy, and why the whole fabric of the bureaucracy went to pieces at once and was so thoroughly destroyed to its very foundations, should I confine myself to that outward description of the general trend of the latest events, since I last was in America. A deeper insight into the Russian past is necessary in order to explain certain special features of the Russian Revolution. My explanation remains substantially the same as that which I gave to my American readers before the Revolution.

Speaking generally, one may say that at a certain period of national development a violent overthrow of obsolete political and social institutions is very likely to come in every civilized community capable of evolving from medievalism to modern democracy. The Russian Revolution is no exception to that general rule. It is in many aspects similar to other revolutions, e.g., the English Revolution of the XVII Century — and especially the great French Revolution of 1789-95. In my capacity of historian I have studied both. But after having passed through that living experience of our own Revolution, I read again, in 1917, Mr. Taine's volumes on the "Ancient Regime and the Revolution" — and I was amazed at many similarities in the smallest details which never before had arrested my attention. I now realize better than at any time of my former studies, just how much similar is the psychology of all revolutions.

But, at the same time, one must not forget that every nation has its peculiarities, in its revolutionary, as well as in its normal stage of development. To make you understand that special character of the Russian Revolution, I must draw your attention to these peculiar features, made our own by the whole process of Russia's history. To my mind, all these features converge into one. The fundamental difference which distinguishes Russia's social structure from that of other civilized countries, can be characterized as a certain weakness or lack of a strong cohesion or cementation of elements which form a social compound. You can observe that lack of consolidation in the Russian social aggregate in every aspect of civilized life: political, social, mental and national.

From the political point of view, the Russian State institutions lacked cohesion and amalgamation with the popular masses over which they ruled. This peculiarity can be explained by the origin of the Russian State and by the process of its historical growth. Originated on the confines of Europe and Asia, the Russian State was late to appear. You can observe a certain regularity in the order of development of States as you go from the West to the East of Europe. The same process of evolution of State institutions which took place on the banks of the Seine and Loire as early as V-VII Century a.d., developed itself one or two centuries later (VII- VIII) in the countries eastwards from the Rhine, and four or five centuries later on the Eastern Mark of Germany (IX-XI). On the boundless plains of the future Russian Empire, State institutions developed five to nine centuries later than in France: the earliest date being that of Southern Russia (Kieff on the Dnieper River, IX-XII Century), and the latest — that of the Muscovite center (XIV Century).

Now, as a consequence of their later appearance, the State institutions in Eastern Europe necessarily assumed certain forms which were different from those in the West. The State in the East had no time to originate from within, in a process of organic evolution. It was brought to the East from outside. In the West, the State gradually evolved from the initial stage of tribal existence, through the intermediary stage of tribal aristocracy (the heads of the clans). In the East, the internal differentiation within the tribes had not yet made sufficient progress when the necessity of a State organization was felt. In the absence of internal elements of national statehood, the State institutions were then simply superposed over the tribal institutions. We have a very telling legend which symbolizes this kind of origin of the Russian State. The emissaries of the Russian Slavic tribes, the legend runs, went to the Northern viking Hrorekr, to invite him to come to Russia and to take up the kingly power. "Our land," it is related they said, "is a very large and rich one. But order is lacking. Come to rule and to reign over us." You will often hear now that expression "calling for Northmen/' used to suggest that Russia wants again its "order" to be brought from outside. The same legend was used by the first and the only doctrine of Russian nationalism we have ever had, — by the so-called Slavophil doctrine. The Slavophils wished to prove by it that Russian State institutions, being of foreign origin, remained foreign to the Russian soul and to the Russian country. The "land" did not wish to share in the sin of the "State." The "land" would rather have chosen the way of "internal truth" — the path of Mary — and have left the path of Martha — that of "external truth," of "order" preserved by force — to foreign hirelings.

The point is, indeed, that for centuries the State power has remained in Russia what it was when the Northern vikings first came: an outsider to whom allegiance was won only in the measure of his utility. The people were not willing to assimilate themselves to the State, to feel a part of it, responsible for the whole. The country continued to feel and to live independent from the State authorities. This was not only possible: it was practically unavoidable as a natural result of an extremely primitive and undeveloped system of administration. Under that system, which was characterized by an extreme scarcity of the executive organs of administration in the country, the central Government was simply unable to get at every single citizen. Whether it had to collect taxes and duties, or to prosecute criminal offenders, its only means for a very long time was to address itself to the whole community to which this particular taxpayer or criminal offender belonged. The community was made responsible for its single member. When Peter the Great decided to change that state of things and to introduce a better order into that primitive anarchy, by following the example of the Swedish system of administration — which was then held in high repute — his foreign advisers informed him that it was impossible to apply that system to Russia. The simple reason was that it was too expensive. They told Peter that the cost of administering one small Province, like Liefland, on the Swedish pattern, was more than the current expenses for the whole of Russia, when kept in order by traditional means.

The population was too poor to bear the expenses of the perfected provincial institutions of more advanced countries. Nay, it was even too poor to bear the expenses of the central administration with its rapidly growing needs. Political development and the process of expansion of the Russian State wasj always in advance of Russia's economic, development. That is why the State was forced to extract from its poor subjects more than they could possibly give. Hence the objective necessity to resort to force. The burden of sustaining the, expanding State's institutions was becoming extremely heavy, and, of course, this growing charge was unable to contribute to transform traditional passive submission into a voluntary habit to obey.

You now can see why in Russia (1), the rural population up to the last remained, in a sense, natural anarchists; (2), why all important changes were bound to come from above, from the State authorities, and (3), why each new power, which did not get too much "under the skin" of the plain people, was sure of being passively obeyed. This explains to a great extent the events of the Russian Revolution.

We now pass to another aspect of the same basic feature: the lack of cohesion among the social elements in Russia. We do not find in the social history of Russia any groups of population strong enough to limit the power of the State. We know that the case was different in Western Europe under medieval feudalism or under more modern growth of urban liberties. In the European East there was no landed aristocracy and no "bourgeoisie" strong and united enough to be able to dictate conditions to the growing power of the Tsar. In Russia, as well as under the Byzantine or the Moslem rule, all land was supposed to belong originally to the Chief of the State, whether his name was Emperor, Tsar or Khalif. The landed aristocracy, far from limiting the power of their sovereign, was in Russia created by that same autocratic power as a class of the Tsar's military "servants." The Tsar allotted to them their landed estates, on the condition of actual military service.

It is very characteristic that in Russia, since the XVI Century, the words "courtiers" and "men of service" were used to designate the class of nobility and gentry. It is true that in the XVIII Century the Tsar's donations of military lots of land definitely evolved into unlimited and unconditioned private landed property. But the Russian peasants did not forget that originally their landlord's estates belonged to the Tsar. And from that very moment when military lots became the private property of the nobles, the peasants persistently waited for the time when the Tsar would be kind enough to learn about their needs and to give them back the "land." They were sure that he would do that, while remunerating his old "servants" with money.

On their part the landed nobility were doing exactly the opposite to what was necessary to undermine that popular opinion. In the first place, there was no law of primogeniture in Russia. Landed estates were divided and subdivided, until in the third or fourth generation they formed a number of small lots which did not much differ from the peasants' holdings. Few ancient families of nobles remained alive : most of them died out. Admission to the gentry being free to everybody, the emptied ranks were gradually filled with newcomers. Especially, from Peter the Great's time it was sufficient to have reached a certain rank in the bureaucratic or military service, or (at a later date) to have been decorated with St. Vladimir's order, to enter the ranks of the nobility. As time went on, that new aristocracy of "rank" lost in its turn a great part of its possessions, together with the former aristocracy of "provenience." A good deal was purchased by the peasants as a result of the Emancipation Act of 1861. But the nobles still preserved about 105 million dessiatines. They went on losing them during the last half century. Only a third of the number just mentioned (35 million) remained in their possession at the moment of the Revolution of 1917. The peasants insisted on this remaining third being given over to_ them with the rest. It was, practically, this claim of the peasants that lay at the basis of all political struggle of the last decades. It was this social question which complicated so much the just and timely solution of the problem of political freedom.

The agrarian question had become the chief point of contention and competition in all party platforms. The socialisf groups accepted the peasants' standpoint concerning the transfer of lands from the nobles, but they wanted these lands to be given to the State, not to private peasants. My party, the "bourgeois" democracy, tried to reconcile the popular claims with the point of view of law on private property and with sound economic principles. It was chiefly with the aim to make such solutions impossible that the Government dispersed the first two Dumas, and changed the Electoral Law to the benefit of the nobles. Under the third, the Duma of the Government's own choice, the State authorities took the side of the big landowners. The new Premier, Mr. Stolypin, tried by special legislation to divert the peasants' attention from the lands of the nobility, and to remunerate the rich peasants at the expense of the poorest. This experiment of reactionary social legislation was among the causes which contributed to the success of the extreme elements under the second Revolution. The very first result of that Revolution was to deprive the new privileged group of the well-to-do peasant landowners of their possessions acquired under Mr. Stolypin's agrarian legislation. But then, the revolutionary process went farther. The peasants' solution of the agrarian tangle prevailed amidst the general crisis. The same revolutionary outbreak which destroyed the autocracy, also completely swept away its ally, the landed aristocracy and the gentry. You now can see to what a large extent this issue was favored and prepared by the social history of Russia.

Let us now pass to the third aspect of the fundamental feature mentioned above: to the weakness of mental cohesion between the different social groups of the nation. Of course, it would be strange to deny that a certain national way of feeling and thinking is common to all social groups. A Russian intellectual is no foreigner to his people. But history, here too for a long time, prevented both groups, the intellectuals and the people, from being welded together. In the first place, up to the last half century, the onlyeducated class in Russia was the nobility and gentry. The fate of this class was partly shared by the intellectuals. Under Peter the Great, (1689-1725) to serve the State in its process of reform, they hurriedly picked up some superficial knowledge of applied science abroad. Under the Empress Elizabeth (1741-1761), to please her, tfiey imitated French fashions and learned to dress, to speak, and to dance, as it behooved accomplished courtiers. Under Catherine II (1762- 1796), to follow her example, they read Montesquieu and Voltaire, and made progress in advanced politics. Under Alexander I (1801-1825), they definitely became revolutionaries. For the first time, they decided to serve — not the "State," but the country, and they did it in their own manner, in the way of Riego's and Pepe's. But, by their social extraction, as well as by the Government's policy, they still were prevented from actual intercourse with the people. The consequence of their estrangement from active politics and from contact with the plain people was an abstract way of thinking. Again, their abstract way of thinking drove them to a sort of intellectual extremism. The February Revolution in France (1848) made them socialists. They thenceforth obediently followed the metamorphoses of European socialism, passing from Fourier to Proudhon, from Proudhon to Karl Marx, and from Marx to revolutionary syndicalism. At the same time, beginning with the middle of the XIX Century, their ranks began to fill up from the lower social layers, and they definitely forsook civil and military service for journalism, for the academic career, science, art and other liberal vocations. They studied prettythoroughly the political life of the advanced democracies. But they had no access to their own. That is why they remained extremists, with very little, if any, political experience. The extremism of that part of the Russian intellectuals is to be greatly responsible for the failure of the first Revolution. It also proved detrimental to the success of our second Revolution, when a chance was given them for realizing their doctrines.