'MO. 1. S P 1 
 
 B. C.
 
 * 
 
 V-
 
 RUSSIA IN 1919
 
 BOOKS BY THE SAME AUTHOR 
 
 LITERARY CRITICISM. 
 
 A History of Story-telling. 1909. 
 
 Edgar Allan Poe. 1910. 
 
 Oscar Wilde. 1912. 
 
 Portraits and Speculations. 1913. 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 The Souls of the Streets. 1904. 
 The Stone Lady. 1905. 
 Bohemia in London. 1907. 
 
 BOOKS FOB CHILDREN. 
 
 Highways and Byeways in Fairyland. 1906. 
 The Trap, the Elf and the Ogre. 1906. 
 Old Peter's Russian Tales. 1916. 
 
 ROMANCE. 
 
 The Foofmarks of the Faun and other Stories. 1911. 
 The Elixir of Life. 1915.
 
 RUSSIA IN 1919 
 
 BY 
 
 ARTHUR RANSOME 
 
 . 
 
 
 NEW YORK B.W.HUEBSCH MCMXIX
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1919, 
 BY B. W. HUEBSCH 
 
 Published August, 1919 
 Second printing, August, 1919 
 Third printing, October, 1919 
 
 R3G-3
 
 tE - ' [BRA BY 
 
 LOCAL NO. i,..-s. P. OF c 
 
 VANCOUVER, B. C. 
 PUBLISHER'S NOTE 
 
 On August 27, 1914, in London, I made this 
 note in a memorandum book : "Met Arthur Ran- 
 
 some at 's ; discussed a book on the Russian's 
 
 relation to the war in the light of psychological 
 background folklore." The book was not writ- 
 ten but the idea that instinctively came to him per- 
 vades his every utterance on things Russian. 
 
 The versatile man who commands more than 
 respect as the biographer of Poe and Wilde ; as the 
 translator of and commentator on Remy de Gour- 
 mont; as a folklorist, has shown himself to be 
 consecrated to the truth. The document that 
 Mr. Ransome hurried out of Russia in the early 
 days of the Soviet government (printed in the 
 New Republic and then widely circulated as a 
 pamphlet), was the first notable appeal from a 
 non-Russian to the American people for fair play 
 in a crisis understood then even less than now. 
 
 iii
 
 The British Who's Who that Almanach de 
 Gotha of people who do things or choose their 
 parents wisely tells us that Mr. Ransome's re- 
 creations are "walking, smoking, fairy stories." 
 It is, perhaps, his intimacy with the last named 
 that enables him to distinguish between myth and 
 fact and that makes his activity as an observer and 
 recorder so valuable in a day of bewilderment and 
 betrayal. 
 
 B. W. H. 
 
 IV
 
 1 NO. 1, OF C 
 
 VANCOUVER, B. C. 
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 I AM well aware that there is material in this book 
 which will be misused by fools both white and 
 red. That is not my fault. My object has been 
 narrowly limited. I have tried by means of a 
 bald record of conversations and things seen, to 
 provide material for those who wish to know what 
 is being done and thought in Moscow at the pres- 
 ent time, and demand something more to go upon 
 than secondhand reports of wholly irrelevant atro- 
 cities committed by either one side or the other, 
 and often by neither one side nor the other, but 
 by irresponsible scoundrels who, in the natural 
 turmoil of the greatest convulsion in the history 
 of our civilization, escape temporarily here and 
 there from any kind of control. 
 
 The book is in no sense of the word propa- 
 ganda. For propaganda, for the defence or at- 
 tack of the Communist position, is needed a knowl- 
 edge of economics, both from the capitalist and 
 socialist standpoints, to which I cannot pretend. 
 
 v
 
 Very many times during the revolution it has 
 seemed to me a tragedy that no Englishman prop- 
 erly equipped in this way was in Russia study- 
 ing the gigantic experiment which, as a country, 
 we are allowing to pass abused but not examined. 
 I did my best. I got, I think I may say, as near 
 as any foreigner who was not a Communist could 
 get to what was going on. But I never lost the 
 bitter feeling that the opportunities of study which 
 I made for myself were wasted, because I could 
 not hand them on to some other Englishman, 
 whose education and training would have enabled 
 him to make a better, a fuller use of them. Nor 
 would it have been difficult for such a man to 
 get the opportunities which were given to me 
 when, by sheer persistence in enquiry, I had over- 
 come the hostility which I at first encountered as 
 the correspondent of a "bourgeois" newspaper. 
 Such a man could be in Russia now, for the Com- 
 munists do not regard war as we regard it. The 
 Germans would hardly have allowed an Allied 
 Commission to come to Berlin a year ago to in- 
 vestigate the nature and working of the Autocracy. 
 The Russians, on the other hand, immediately 
 
 vi
 
 agreed to the suggestion of the Berne Conference 
 that they should admit a party of socialists, the 
 majority of whom, as they well knew, had already 
 expressed condemnation of them. Further, in 
 agreeing to this, they added that they would as 
 willingly admit a committee of enquiry sent by 
 any of the "bourgeois" governments actually at 
 war with them. 
 
 I am sure that there will be many in England 
 who will understand much better than I the drudg- 
 ery of the revolution which is in this book very 
 imperfectly suggested. I repeat that it is not my 
 fault that they must make do with the eyes and 
 ears of an ignorant observer. No doubt I have 
 not asked the questions they would have asked, 
 and have thought interesting and novel much 
 which they would have taken for granted. 
 
 The book has no particular form, other than 
 that given it by a more or less accurate adherence 
 to chronology in setting down things seen and 
 heard. It is far too incomplete to allow me to 
 call it a Journal. I think I could have made it 
 twice as long without repetitions, and I am not 
 at all sure that in choosing in a hurry between 
 
 vii
 
 this and that I did not omit much which could 
 witji advantage be substituted for what is here 
 set down. There is nothing here of my talk with 
 the English soldier prisoners and nothing of my 
 visit to the officers confined in the Butyrka Gaol. 
 There is nothing of the plagues of typhus and 
 influenza, or of the desperate situation of a peo- 
 ple thus visited and unable to procure from abroad 
 the simplest drugs which they cannot manufacture 
 at home or even the anaesthetics necessary for 
 their wounded on every frontier of their country. 
 I forgot to describe the ballet which I saw a few 
 days before leaving. I have said nothing of the 
 talk I had with Eliava concerning the Russian 
 plans for the future of Turkestan. I could think 
 of a score of other omissions. Judging from what 
 I have read since my return from Russia, I imagine 
 people -will find my book very poor in the matter 
 of Terrors. There is nothing here of the Red 
 Terror, or of any of the Terrors on the other side. 
 But for its poverty in atrocities my book will be 
 blamed only by fanatics, since they alone desire 
 proofs of past Terrors as justification for new 
 ones. 
 
 viii
 
 On reading my manuscript through, I find it 
 quite surprisingly dull. The one thing that I 
 should have liked to transmit through it seems 
 somehow to have slipped away. I should have 
 liked to explain what was the appeal of the revo- 
 lution to men like Colonel Robins and myself, 
 both of us men far removed in origin and upbring- 
 ing from the revolutionary and socialist move- 
 ments in our own countries. Of course no one 
 who was able, as we were able, to watch the men 
 of the revolution at close quarters could believe 
 for a moment that they were the mere paid agents 
 of the very power which more than all others rep- 
 resented the stronghold they had set out to de- 
 stroy. We had the knowledge of the injustice 
 being done to these men to urge us in their de- 
 fence. But there was more in it than that. 
 There was the feeling, from which we could never 
 escape, of the creative effort of the revolution. 
 There was the thing that distinguishes the creative 
 from other artists, the living, vivifying expression 
 of something hitherto hidden in the consciousness 
 of humanity. If this book were to be an accurate 
 record of my own impressions, all the drudgery, 
 
 ix
 
 gossip, quarrels, arguments, events and experiences 
 it contains would have to be set against a back- 
 ground of that extraordinary vitality which obsti- 
 nately persists in Moscow even in these dark days 
 of discomfort, disillusion, pestilence, starvation 
 and unwanted war. 
 
 ARTHUR RANSOME.
 
 OF C 
 
 VANCOUVER : 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 To PETROGRAD i 
 
 SMOLNI 13 
 
 PETROGRAD TO Moscow 20 
 
 FIRST DAYS IN Moscow 25 
 
 THE EXECUTIVE COMMITTEE ON THE REPLY TO 
 THE PRINKIPO PROPOSAL 44 
 
 KAMENEV AND THE Moscow SOVIET .... 64 
 
 AN EX-CAPITALIST 71 
 
 A THEORIST OF REVOLUTION 80 
 
 EFFECTS OF ISOLATION 85" 
 
 AN EVENING AT THE OPERA 88 
 
 THE COMMITTEE OF STATE CONSTRUCTIONS . . 95 
 THE EXECUTIVE COMMITTEE AND THE TERROR . 108 
 NOTES OF CONVERSATIONS WITH LENIN . . . . 117 
 THE SUPREME COUNCIL OF PUBLIC ECONOMY . . 124 
 
 THE RACE WITH RUIN 132 
 
 A PLAY OF CHEKHOV 139 
 
 THE CENTRO-TEXTILE 143 
 
 MODIFICATION IN THE AGRARIAN PROGRAMME . .151 
 FOREIGN TRADE AND MUNITIONS OF WAR . . . 153
 
 PAGE 
 
 THE PROPOSED DELEGATION FROM BERNE . . .156 
 
 THE EXECUTIVE COMMITTEE ON THE RIVAL PAR- 
 TIES 161 
 
 COMMISSARIAT OF LABOUR 170 
 
 EDUCATION 179 
 
 A BOLSHEVIK FELLOW OF THE ROYAL SOCIETY . . 189 
 
 DIGRESSION 192 
 
 THE OPPOSITION . 194 
 
 THE THIRD INTERNATIONAL 213 
 
 LAST TALK WITH LENIN 224 
 
 THE JOURNEY OUT 231
 
 ENDING LIBRARY 
 
 LOCAL NCX 1, S, P. OF C. 
 
 VANCOUVER, B." C, 
 
 RUSSIA IN 1919 
 
 TO PETROGRAD 
 
 ON January 30 a party of four newspaper corre- 
 spondents, two Norwegians, a Swede and myself, 
 left Stockholm to go into Russia. We travelled 
 with the members of the Soviet Government's 
 Legation, headed by Vorovsky and Litvinov, who 
 were going home after the breaking off of official 
 relations by Sweden. Some months earlier I had 
 got leave from the Bolsheviks to go into Russia 
 to get further material for my history of the revo- 
 lution, but at the last moment there was opposition 
 and it seemed likely that I should be refused per- 
 mission. Fortunately, however, a copy of the 
 Morning Post reached Stockholm, containing a 
 report of a lecture by Mr. Lockhart in which he 
 had said that as I had been out of Russia for six 
 months I had no right to speak of conditions there. 
 
 i
 
 Armed with this I argued that it would be very 
 unfair if I were not allowed to come and see things 
 for myself. I had no further difficulties. 
 
 We crossed by boat to Abo, grinding our way 
 through the ice, and then travelled by rail to the 
 Russian frontier, taking several days over the 
 journey owing to delays variously explained by 
 the Finnish authorities. We were told that the 
 Russian White Guards had planned an attack on 
 the train. Litvinov, half-smiling, wondered if 
 they were purposely giving time to the White 
 Guards to organize such an attack. Several nerv- 
 ous folk inclined to that opinion. But at Viborg 
 we were told that there were grave disorders in 
 Petrograd and that the Finns did not wish to fling 
 us into the middle of a scrimmage. Then some- 
 one obtained a newspaper and we read a detailed 
 account of what was happening. This account 
 was, as I learnt on my return, duly telegraphed to 
 England like much other news of a similar char- 
 acter. There had been a serious revolt in Petro- 
 grad. The Semenovsky regiment had gone over 
 to the mutineers, who had seized the town. The 
 Government, however, had escaped to Kronstadt, 
 
 2
 
 whence they were bombarding Petrograd with 
 naval guns. 
 
 This sounded fairly lively, but there was noth- 
 ing to be done, so we finished up the chess tourna- 
 ment we had begun on the boat. An Esthonian 
 won it, and I was second, by reason of a lucky win 
 over Litvinov, who is really a better player. By 
 Sunday night we reached Terijoki and on Monday 
 moved slowly to the frontier of Finland close to 
 Bieloostrov. A squad of Finnish soldiers was 
 waiting, excluding everybody from the station 
 and seeing that no dangerous revolutionary should 
 break away on Finnish territory. There were no 
 horses, but three hand sledges were brought, and 
 we piled the luggage on them, and then set off to 
 walk to the frontier duly convoyed by the Finns. 
 A Finnish lieutenant walked at the head of the 
 procession, chatting good-humouredly in Swedish 
 and German, much as a man might think it worth 
 while to be kind to a crowd of unfortunates just 
 about to be flung into a boiling cauldron. We 
 walked a few hundred yards along the line and 
 then turned into a road deep in snow through a 
 little bare wood, and so down to the little wooden 
 
 3
 
 bridge over the narrow frozen stream that sepa- 
 rates Finland from Russia. The bridge, not 
 twenty yards across, has a toll bar at each end, 
 two sentry boxes and two sentries. On the Rus- 
 sian side the bar was the familiar black and white 
 of the old Russian Empire, with a sentry box to 
 match. The Finns seemingly had not yet had 
 time to paint their bar and box. 
 
 The Finns lifted their toll bar, and the Finn- 
 ish officers leading our escort walked solemnly to 
 the middle of the bridge. Then the luggage was 
 dumped there, while we stood watching the trem- 
 bling of the rickety little bridge under the weight 
 of our belongings, for we were all taking in with 
 us as much food as we decently could. We were 
 none of us allowed on the bridge until an officer 
 and a few men had come down to meet us on the 
 Russian side. Only little Nina, Vorovsky's 
 daughter, about ten years old, chattering Swed- 
 ish with the Finns, got leave from them, and 
 shyly, step by step, went down the other side of 
 the bridge and struck up acquaintance with the 
 soldier of the Red Army who stood there, gun 
 in hand, and obligingly bent to show her the 
 
 4
 
 sign, set in his hat, of the crossed sickle and ham- 
 mer of the Peasants' and Workmen's Republic. 
 At last the Finnish lieutenant took the list of his 
 prisoners and called out the names "Vorovsky, 
 wife and one bairn," looking laughingly over his 
 shoulder at Nina flirting with the sentry. Then 
 "Litvinov," and so on through all the Russians, 
 about thirty of them. We four visitors, Grim- 
 lund the Swede, Puntervald and Stang, the Nor- 
 wegians, and I, came last. At last, after a gen- 
 eral shout of farewell, and "Helse Finland" from 
 Nina, the Finns turned and went back into their 
 civilization, and we went forward into the new 
 struggling civilization of Russia. Crossing that 
 bridge we passed from one philosophy to another, 
 from one extreme of the class struggle to the other, 
 from a dictatorship of the bourgeoisie to a dicta- 
 torship of the proletariat. 
 
 The contrast was noticeable at once. On the 
 Finnish side of the frontier we had seen the 
 grandiose new frontier station, much larger than 
 could possibly be needed, but quite a good ex- 
 pression of the spirit of the new Finland. On 
 the Russian side we came to the same grey old 
 
 5
 
 wooden station known to all passengers to and 
 from Russia for polyglot profanity and passport 
 difficulties. There were no porters, which was 
 not surprising because there is barbed wire and 
 an extremely hostile sort of neutrality along the 
 frontier and traffic across has practically ceased. 
 In the buffet, which was very cold, no food could 
 be bought. The long tables once laden with ca- 
 viare and other zakuski were bare. There was, 
 however, a samovar, and we bought tea at sixty 
 kopecks a glass and lumps of sugar at two roubles 
 fifty each. We took our tea into the inner pass- 
 port room, where I think a stove must have been 
 burning the day before, and there made some sort 
 of a meal off some of Puntervald's Swedish hard- 
 bread. It is difficult to me to express the curious 
 mixture of depression and exhilaration that was 
 given to the party by this derelict starving station 
 combined with the feeling that we were no longer 
 under guard but could do more or less as we 
 liked. It split the party into two factions, of 
 which one wept while the other sang. Madame 
 Vorovsky, who had not been in Russia since the 
 first revolution, frankly wept, but she wept still 
 
 6
 
 more in Moscow where she found that even as the 
 wife of a high official of the Government she en- 
 joyed no privileges which would save her from 
 the hardships of the population. But the younger 
 members of the party, together with Litvinov, 
 found their spirits irrepressibly rising in spite of 
 having no dinner. They walked about the vil- 
 lage, played with the children, and sang, not revo- 
 lutionary songs, but just jolly songs, any songs 
 that came into their heads. When at last the 
 train came to take us into Petrograd, and we found 
 that the carriages were unheated, somebody got 
 out a mandoline and we kept ourselves warm by 
 dancing. At the same time I was sorry for the 
 five children who were with us, knowing that a 
 country simultaneously suffering war, blockade 
 and revolution is not a good place for child- 
 hood. But they had caught the mood of their 
 parents, revolutionaries going home to their revo- 
 lution, and trotted excitedly up and down the 
 carriage or anchored themselves momentarily, first 
 on one person's knee and then on another's. 
 
 It was dusk when we reached Petrograd. The 
 Finland Station, of course, was nearly deserted, 
 
 7
 
 but here there were four porters, who charged 
 two hundred and fifty roubles for shifting the 
 luggage of the party from one end of the plat- 
 form to the other. We ourselves loaded it into 
 the motor lorry sent to meet us, as at Bieloostrov 
 we had loaded it into the van. There was a long 
 time to wait while rooms were being allotted to 
 us in various hotels, and with several others I 
 walked outside the station to question people about 
 the mutiny and the bombardment of which we 
 had heard in Finland. Nobody knew anything 
 about it. As soon as the rooms were allotted and 
 I knew that I had been lucky enough to get one 
 in the Astoria, I drove off across the frozen river 
 by the Liteini Bridge. The trams were running. 
 The town seemed absolutely quiet, and away 
 down the river I saw once again in the dark, 
 which is never quite dark because of the snow, 
 the dim shape of the fortress, and passed one by 
 one the landmarks I had come to know so well 
 during the last six years the Summer Garden, 
 the British Embassy, and the great Palace Square 
 where I had seen armoured cars flaunting about 
 during the July rising, soldiers camping during 
 
 8
 
 the hysterical days of the Kornilov affair and, 
 earlier, Kornilov himself reviewing the Junkers. 
 My mind went further back to the March revo- 
 lution, and saw once more the picket fire of the 
 revolutionaries at the corner that night when the 
 remains of the Tzar's Government were still fran- 
 tically printing proclamations ordering the people 
 to go home, at the very moment while they them- 
 selves were being besieged in the Admiralty. 
 Then it flung itself further back still, to the day 
 of the declaration of war, when I saw this same 
 square filled with people, while the Tzar came 
 out for a moment on the Palace balcony. By that 
 time we were pulling up at the Astoria and I had 
 to turn my mind to something else. 
 
 The Astoria is now a bare barrack of a place, 
 but comparatively clean. During the war and 
 the first part of the revolution it was tenanted 
 chiefly by officers, and owing to the idiocy of a 
 few of these at the time of the first revolution in 
 shooting at a perfectly friendly crowd of soldiers 
 and sailors, who came there at first with no other 
 object than to invite the officers to join them, the 
 place was badly smashed up in the resulting scrim- 
 
 9
 
 mage. I remember with Major Scale fixing up 
 a paper announcing the fall of Bagdad either the 
 night this happened or perhaps the night before. 
 People rushed up to it, thinking it some news about 
 the revolution, and turned impatiently away. All 
 the damage has been repaired, but the red carpets 
 have gone, perhaps to make banners, and many 
 of the electric lights were not burning, probably 
 because of the shortage in electricity. I got my 
 luggage upstairs to a very pleasant room on the 
 fourth floor. Every floor of that hotel had its 
 memories for me. In this room lived that brave 
 reactionary officer who boasted that he had made 
 a raid on the Bolsheviks and showed little Ma- 
 dame Kollontai's hat as a trophy. In this I used 
 to listen to Perceval Gibbon when he was talking 
 about how to write short stories and having in- 
 fluenza. There was the room where Miss Beatty 
 used to give tea to tired revolutionaries and to still 
 more tired enquirers into the nature of revolution 
 while she wrote the only book that has so far 
 appeared which gives anything like a true impres- 
 ionist picture of those unforgettable days. 1 Close 
 
 1 "The Red Heart of Russia." 
 10
 
 by was the room where poor Denis Garstin used 
 to talk of the hunting he would have when the 
 war should come to an end. 
 
 I enquired for a meal, and found that no food 
 was to be had in the hotel, but they could supply 
 hot water. Then, to get an appetite for sleep, I 
 went out for a short walk, though I did not much 
 like doing so with nothing but an English pass- 
 port, and with no papers to show that I had any 
 right to be there. I had, like the other foreign- 
 ers, been promised such papers but had not yet 
 received them. I went round to the Regina, 
 which used to be one of the best hotels in the 
 town, but those of us who had rooms there were 
 complaining so bitterly that I did not stay with 
 them, but went off along the Moika to the Nevsky 
 and so back to my own hotel. The streets, like 
 the hotel, were only half lit, and hardly any of 
 the houses had a lighted window. In the old 
 sheepskin coat I had worn on the front and in 
 my high fur hat, I felt like some ghost of the old 
 regime visiting a town long dead. The silence 
 and emptiness of the streets contributed to this 
 effect. Still, the few people I met or passed were 
 
 11
 
 talking cheerfully together and the rare sledges 
 and motors had comparatively good roads, the 
 streets being certainly better swept and cleaned 
 than they have been since the last winter of the 
 Russian Empire. 
 
 12
 
 SMOLNI 
 
 EARLY in the morning I got tea, and a bread card 
 on which I was given a very small allowance of 
 brown bread, noticeably better in quality than 
 the compound of clay and straw which made me 
 ill in Moscow last summer. Then I went to 
 find Litvinov, and set out with him to walk to the 
 Smolni institute, once a school for the daughters 
 of the aristocracy, then the headquarters of the 
 Soviet, then the headquarters of the Soviet Gov- 
 ernment, and finally, after the Government's 
 evacuation to Moscow, bequeathed to the North- 
 ern Commune and the Petrograd Soviet. The 
 town, in daylight, seemed less deserted, though it 
 was obvious that the "unloading" of the Petrograd 
 population, which was unsuccessfully attempted 
 during the Kerensky regime, had been accom- 
 plished to a large extent. This has been partly 
 the result of famine and of the stoppage of fac- 
 
 13
 
 tories, which in its turn is due to the impossibility 
 of bringing fuel and raw material to Petrograd. 
 A very large proportion of Russian factory hands 
 have not, as in other countries, lost their connec- 
 tion with their native villages. There was al- 
 ways a considerable annual migration backwards 
 and forwards between the villages and the town, 
 and great numbers of workmen have gone home, 
 carrying with them the ideas of the revolution. 
 It should also be remembered that the bulk of 
 the earlier formed units of the Red Army is com- 
 posed of workmen from the towns who, except 
 in the case of peasants mobilized in districts which 
 have experienced an occupation by the counter- 
 revolutionaries, are more determined and better 
 understand the need for discipline than the men 
 from the country. 
 
 The most noticeable thing In Petrograd to any- 
 one returning after six months' absence is the 
 complete disappearance of armed men. The town 
 seems to have returned to a perfectly peaceable 
 condition in the sense that the need for revolu- 
 tionary patrols has gone. Soldiers walking about 
 no longer carry their rifles, and the picturesque
 
 figures of the revolution who wore belts of ma- 
 chine-gun cartridges slung about their persons 
 have gone. 
 
 The second noticeable thing, especially in the 
 Nevsky, which was once crowded with people too 
 fashionably dressed, is the general lack of new 
 clothes. I did not see anybody wearing clothes 
 that looked less than two years old, with the ex- 
 ception of some officers and soldiers who are as 
 well equipped nowadays as at the beginning of 
 the war. Petrograd ladies were particularly fond 
 of boots, and of boots there is an extreme short- 
 age. I saw one young woman in a well-preserved, 
 obviously costly fur coat, and beneath it straw 
 shoes with linen wrappings. 
 
 We had started rather late, so we took a tram 
 half-way up the Nevsky. The tram conductors 
 are still women. The price of tickets has risen 
 to a rouble, usually, I noticed, paid in stamps. 
 It used to be ten kopecks. 
 
 The armoured car which used to stand at the 
 entrance of Smolni has disappeared and been re- 
 placed by a horrible statue of Karl Marx, who 
 stands, thick and heavy, on a stout pedestal, hold- 
 
 15
 
 ing behind him an enormous top-hat like the muz- 
 zle of an eighteen-inch gun. The only signs of 
 preparations for defence that remain are the pair 
 of light field guns which, rather the worse for 
 weather, still stand under the pillars of the portico 
 which they would probably shake to pieces if ever 
 they should be fired. Inside the routine was as 
 it used to be, and when I turned down the passage 
 to get my permit to go upstairs, I could hardly 
 believe that I had been away for so long. The 
 place is emptier than it was. There is not the 
 same eager crowd of country delegates pressing 
 up and down the corridors and collecting litera- 
 ture from the stalls that I used to see in the old 
 days when the serious little workman from the 
 Viborg side stood guard over Trotsky's door, and 
 from the alcove with its window looking down 
 into the great hall, the endless noise of debate 
 rose from the Petrograd Soviet that met below. 
 
 Litvinov invited me to have dinner with the 
 Petrograd Commissars, which I was very glad to 
 do, partly because I was hungry and partly because 
 I thought it would be better to meet Zinoviev thus 
 than in any other manner, remembering how sourly 
 
 16
 
 he had looked upon me earlier in the revolution. 
 Zinoviev is a Jew, with a lot of hair, a round 
 smooth face, and a very abrupt manner. He was 
 against the November Revolution, but when it 
 had been accomplished returned to his old alle- 
 giance to Lenin and, becoming President of the 
 Northern Commune, remained in Petrograd when 
 .he Government moved to Moscow. He is neither 
 an original thinker nor a good orator except in 
 debate, in answering opposition, which he does 
 with extreme skill. His nerve was badly shaken 
 by the murders of his friends Volodarsky and 
 Uritzky last year, and he is said to have lost his 
 head after the attack on Lenin, to whom he is ex- 
 tremely devoted. I have heard many Com- 
 munists attribute to this fact the excesses which 
 followed that event in Petrograd. I have never 
 noticed anything that would make me consider 
 him pro-German, though of course he is pro-Marx. 
 He has, however, a decided prejudice against the 
 English. He was among the Communists who 
 put difficulties in my way as a "bourgeois jour- 
 nalist" in the earlier days of the revolution, and 
 I had heard that he had expressed suspicion 
 
 17
 
 and disapproval of Radek's intimacy with me. 
 I was amused to see his face when he came in 
 and saw me sitting at the table. Litvinov intro- 
 duced me to him, very tactfully telling him of 
 Lockhart's attack upon me, whereupon he became 
 quite decently friendly, and said that if I could 
 stay a few days in Petrograd on my way back from 
 Moscow he would see that I had access to the his- 
 torical material I wanted about the doings of the 
 Petrograd Soviet during the time I had been away. 
 I told him I was surprised to find him here and 
 not at Kronstadt, and asked about the mutiny and 
 the treachery of the Semenovsky regiment. There 
 was a shout of laughter, and Pozern explained 
 that there was no Semenovsky regiment in exist- 
 ence, and that the manufacturers of the story, 
 every word of which was a lie, had no doubt tried 
 to give realism to it by putting in the name of 
 the regiment which had taken a chief part in put- 
 ting down the Moscow insurrection of fourteen 
 years ago. Pozern, a thin, bearded man, with 
 glasses, was sitting at the other end of the table, 
 as Military Commissar of the Northern Com- 
 mune. 
 
 18
 
 Dinner in Smolni was the same informal affair 
 that it was in the old days, only with much less 
 to eat. The Commissars, men and women, came 
 in from their work, took their places, fed and went 
 back to work again, Zinoviev in particular stay- 
 ing only a few minutes. The meal was extremely 
 simple, soup with shreds of horse-flesh in it, very 
 good indeed, followed by a little kasha together 
 with small slabs of some sort of white stuff of no 
 particular consistency or taste, Then tea and a 
 lump of sugar. The conversation was mostly 
 about the chances of peace, and Litvinov's rather 
 pessimistic reports were heard with disappoint- 
 ment. Just as I had finished, Vorovsky, Madame 
 Vorovsky and little Nina, together with the two 
 Norwegians and the Swede, came in. I learnt 
 that about half the party were going on to Mos- 
 cow that night and, deciding to go with them, 
 hurried off to the hotel.
 
 PETROGRAD TO MOSCOW 
 
 THERE was, of course, a dreadful scrimmage 
 about getting away. Several people were not 
 ready at the last minute. Only one motor was 
 obtainable for nine persons with their light lug- 
 gage, and a motor lorry for the heavy things. I 
 chose to travel on the lorry with the luggage and 
 had a fine bumpity drive to the station, reminding 
 me of similar though livelier experiences in the 
 earlier days of the revolution when lorries were 
 used for the transport of machine guns, red guards, 
 orators, enthusiasts of all kinds, and any stray per- 
 sons who happened to clamber on. 
 
 At the Nikolai Station we found perfect order 
 until we got into our wagon, an old third-class 
 wagon, in which a certain number of places which 
 one of the party had reserved had been occupied 
 by people who had no right to be there. Even 
 this difficulty was smoothed out in a manner that 
 
 20
 
 would have been impossible a year or even six 
 months ago. 
 
 The wagon was divided by a door in the middle. 
 There were open coupes and side seats which be- 
 came plank beds when necessary. We slept in 
 three tiers on the bare boards. I had a very de- 
 cent place on the second tier, and, by a bit of good 
 luck, the topmost bench over my head was occu- 
 pied only by luggage, which gave me room to 
 climb up there and sit more or less upright under 
 the roof with my legs dangling above the general 
 tumult of mothers, babies, and Bolsheviks below. 
 At each station at which the train stopped there 
 was a general procession backwards and forwards 
 through the wagon. Everybody who had a kettle 
 or a coffee-pot or a tin can, or even an empty meat 
 tin, crowded through the carriage and out to get 
 boiling water. I had nothing but a couple of 
 thermos flasks, but with these I joined the others. 
 From every carriage on the train people poured 
 out and hurried to the taps. No one controlled 
 the taps but, with the instinct for co-operation for 
 which Russians are remarkable, people formed 
 themselves automatically into queues, and by the 
 
 21
 
 time the train started again everybody was back 
 in his place and ready for a general tea-drinking. 
 This performance was repeated again and again 
 throughout the night. People dozed off to sleep, 
 woke up, drank more tea, and joined in the vari- 
 ous conversations that went on in different parts 
 of the carriage. Up aloft, I listened first to one 
 and then to another. Some were grumbling at 
 the price of food. Others were puzzling why 
 other nations insisted on being at war with them. 
 One man said he was a co-operator who had come 
 by roundabout ways from Archangel, and describ- 
 ing the discontent there, told a story which I give 
 as an illustration of the sort of thing that is being 
 said in Russia by non-Bolsheviks. This man, in 
 spite of the presence of many Communists in the 
 carriage, did not disguise his hostility to their 
 theories and practice, and none the less told this 
 story. He said that some of the Russian troops 
 in the Archangel district refused to go to the front. 
 Their commanders, unable to compel them, re- 
 signed and were replaced by others who, since the 
 men persisted in refusal, appealed for help. The 
 barracks, so he said, were then surrounded by 
 
 22
 
 American troops, and the Russians, who had re- 
 fused to go to the front to fire on other Russians, 
 were given the choice, either that every tenth man 
 should be shot, or that they should give up their 
 ringleaders. The ringleaders, twelve in number, 
 were given up, were made to dig their own graves, 
 and shot. The whole story may well be Arch- 
 angel gossip. If so, as a specimen of such gossip, 
 it is not without significance. In another part of 
 the carriage an argument on the true nature of 
 selfishness caused some heat because the dispu- 
 tants insisted on drawing their illustrations from 
 each other's conduct. Then there was the diver- 
 sion of a swearing match at a wayside station 
 between the conductor and some one who tried to 
 get into this carriage and should have got into 
 another. Both were fluent and imaginative 
 swearers, and even the man from Archangel 
 stopped talking to listen to them. One, I re- 
 member, prayed vehemently that the other's hand 
 might fly off, and the. other, not to be outdone, 
 retorted with a similar prayer with regard to the 
 former's head. In England the dispute, which 
 became very fierce indeed, would have ended in 
 
 23
 
 assault, but here it ended in nothing but the col- 
 lection on the platform of a small crowd of ex- 
 perts in bad language who applauded verbal hits 
 with impartiality and enthusiasm. 
 
 At last I tried to sleep, but the atmosphere in 
 the carriage, of smoke, babies, stale clothes, and 
 the peculiar smell of the Russian peasantry which 
 no one who has known it can forget, made sleep 
 impossible. But I travelled fairly comfortably, 
 resolutely shutting my ears to the talk, thinking 
 of fishing in England, and shifting from one bone 
 to another as each ached in turn from contact with 
 the plank on which I lay.
 
 FIRST DAYS IN MOSCOW 
 
 IT was a rare cold day when I struggled through 
 the crowd out of the station in Moscow, and be- 
 gan fighting with the sledge-drivers who asked a 
 hundred roubles to take me to the Metropole. I 
 remembered coming here a year ago with Colonel 
 Robins, when we made ten roubles a limit for the 
 journey and often travelled for eight. To-day, 
 after heated bargaining, I got carried with no 
 luggage but a typewriter for fifty roubles. The 
 streets were white with deep snow, less well 
 cleaned than the Petrograd streets of this year 
 but better cleaned than the Moscow streets of last 
 year. The tramways were running. There 
 seemed to be at least as many sledges as usual, 
 and the horses were in slightly better condition 
 than last summer when they were scarcely able to 
 drag themselves along. I asked the reason of the 
 improvement, and the driver told me the horses 
 
 25
 
 were now rationed like human beings, and all got 
 a small allowance of oats. There were crowds 
 of people about, but the numbers of closed shops 
 were very depressing. I did not then know that 
 this was due to the nationalization of trade and a 
 sort of general stock-taking, the object of which 
 was to prevent profiteering in manufactured goods, 
 etc., of which there were not enough to go round. 
 Before I left many shops were being reopened as 
 national concerns, like our own National Kitchens. 
 Thus, one would see over a shop the inscription, 
 'The 5th Boot Store of the Moscow Soviet" or 
 "The 3rd Clothing Store of the Moscow Soviet"' 
 or "The nth Book Shop." It had been found 
 that speculators bought, for example, half a dozen 
 overcoats, and sold them to the highest bidders, 
 thus giving the rich an advantage over the poor. 
 Now if a man needs a new suit he has to go in his 
 rags to his House Committee, and satisfy them 
 that he really needs a new suit for himself. He is 
 then given the right to buy a suit. In this way 
 an attempt is made to prevent speculation and 
 to ensure a more or less equitable distribution of 
 the inadequate stocks. My greatest surprise was 
 
 26
 
 given me by the Metropole itself, because the old 
 wounds of the revolution, which were left un- 
 healed all last summer, the shell-holes and bullet 
 splashes which marked it when I was here before, 
 have been repaired. 
 
 Litvinov had given me a letter to Karakhan of 
 the Commissariat of Foreign Affairs, asking him 
 to help me in getting a room. I found him at 
 the Metropole, still smoking as it were the cigar 
 of six months ago. Karakhan, a handsome Ar- 
 menian, elegantly bearded and moustached, once 
 irreverently described by Radek as "a donkey of 
 classical beauty," who has consistently used such 
 influence as he has in favour of moderation and 
 agreement with the Allies, greeted me very cor- 
 dially, and told me that the foreign visitors were 
 to be housed in the Kremlin. I told him I should 
 much prefer to live in an hotel in the ordinary 
 way, and he at once set about getting a room for 
 me. This was no easy business, though he ob- 
 tained an authorization from Sverdlov, president 
 of the executive committee, for me to live where 
 I wished, in the Metropole or the National, which 
 are mostly reserved for Soviet delegates, officials 
 
 27
 
 and members of the Executive Committee. Both 
 were full, and he finally got me a room in the old 
 Loskutnaya Hotel, now the Red Fleet, partially 
 reserved for sailor delegates and members of the 
 Naval College. 
 
 Rooms are distributed on much the same plan 
 as clothes. Housing is considered a State monop- 
 oly, and a general census of housing accommoda- 
 tion has been taken. In every district there are 
 housing committees to whom people wanting 
 rooms apply. They work on the rough and ready 
 theory that until every man has one room no 
 one has a right to two. An Englishman acting 
 as manager of works near Moscow told me that 
 part of his house had been allotted to workers in 
 his factory, who, however, were living with him 
 amicably, and had, I think, allowed him to choose 
 which rooms he should concede. This plan has, 
 of course, proved very hard on house-owners, and 
 in some cases the new tenants have made a hor- 
 rible mess of the houses, as might, indeed, have 
 been expected, seeing that they had previously 
 been of those who had suffered directly from the 
 decivilizing influences of overcrowding. After 
 
 28
 
 talking for some time we went round the corner to 
 the Commissariat for Foreign Affairs, where we 
 found Chicherin who, I thought, had aged a good 
 deal and was (though this was perhaps his man- 
 ner) less cordial than Karakhan. He asked about 
 England, and I told him Litvinov knew more 
 about that than I, since he had been there more 
 recently. He asked what I thought would be 
 the effect of his Note with detailed terms pub- 
 lished that day. I told him that Litvinov, in an 
 interview which I had telegraphed, had mentioned 
 somewhat similar terms some time before, and that 
 personally I doubted whether the Allies would at 
 present come to any agreement with the Soviet 
 Government, but that, if the Soviet Government 
 lasted, my personal opinion was that the commer- 
 cial isolation of so vast a country as Russia could 
 hardly be prolonged indefinitely on that account 
 alone. (For the general attitude to that Note, 
 see page 44.) 
 
 I then met Voznesensky (Left Social Revolu- 
 tionary), of the Oriental Department, bursting 
 with criticism of the Bolshevik attitude towards 
 his party. He secured a ticket for me to get din- 
 
 29
 
 ner in the Metropole. This ticket I had to sur- 
 render when I got a room in the National. The 
 dinner consisted of a plate of soup, and a very 
 small portion of something else. There are Na- 
 tional Kitchens in different parts of the town sup- 
 plying similar meals. Glasses of weak tea were 
 sold at 30 kopecks each, without sugar. My sister 
 had sent me a small bottle of saccharine just be- 
 fore I left Stockholm, and it was pathetic to see 
 the childish delight with which some of my friends 
 drank glasses of sweetened tea. 
 
 From the Metropole I went to the Red Fleet to 
 get my room fixed up. Six months ago there were 
 comparatively clean rooms here, but the sailors 
 have demoralized the hotel and its filth is inde- 
 scribable. There was no heating and very little 
 light. A samovar left after the departure of the 
 last visitor was standing on the table, together 
 with some dirty curl-papers and other rubbish. 
 I got the waiter to clean up more or less, and or- 
 dered a new samovar. He could not supply 
 spoon, knife, or fork, and only with great diffi- 
 culty was persuaded to lend me glasses. 
 
 The telephone, however, was working, and after 
 30
 
 tea I got into touch with Madame Radek, who had 
 moved from the Metropole into the Kremlin. I 
 had not yet got a pass to the Kremlin, so she 
 arranged to meet me and get a pass for me from 
 the Commandant. I walked through the snow 
 to the white gate at the end of the bridge which 
 leads over the garden up a steep incline to the 
 Kremlin. Here a fire of logs was burning, and 
 three soldiers were sitting around it. Madame 
 Radek was waiting for me, warming her hands at 
 the fire, and we went together into the citadel of 
 the republic. 
 
 A meeting of the People's Commissars was go- 
 ing on in the Kremlin, and on an open space under 
 the ancient churches were a number of motors 
 black on the snow. We turned to the right down 
 the Dvortzovaya street, between the old Cavalier 
 House and the Potyeshny Palace, and went in 
 through a door under the archway that crosses the 
 road, and up some dark flights of stairs to a part 
 of the building that used, I think, to be called the 
 Pleasure Palace. Here, in a wonderful old room, 
 hung with Gobelins tapestries absolutely undam- 
 aged by the revolution, and furnished with carved 
 
 31
 
 chairs, we found the most incongruous figure of 
 the old Swiss internationalist, Karl Moor, who 
 talked with affection of Keir Hardie and of Hynd- 
 man, "in the days when he was a socialist," and 
 was disappointed to find that I knew so little about 
 them. Madame Radek asked, of course, for the 
 latest news of Radek, and I told her that I had 
 read in the Stockholm papers that he had gone 
 to Brunswick, and was said to be living in the 
 palace there. 1 She feared he might have been in 
 Bremen when that town was taken by the Gov- 
 ernment troops, and did not believe he would 
 ever get back to Russia. She asked me, did I 
 not feel already (as indeed I did) the enormous 
 difference which the last six months had made in 
 strengthening the revolution. I asked after old 
 acquaintances, and learnt that Pyatakov, who, 
 when I Last saw him, was praying that the Allies 
 should give him machine rifles to use against the 
 Germans in the Ukraine, had been the first Presi- 
 dent of the Ukrainian Soviet Republic, but had 
 since been replaced by Rakovsky. It had been 
 
 1 It was not till later that we learned he had returned to 
 Berlin, been arrested, and put in prison. 
 
 32
 
 found that the views of the Pyatakov government 
 were further left than those of its supporters, and 
 so Pyatakov had given way to Rakovsky who was 
 better able to conduct a more moderate policy. 
 The Republic had been proclaimed in Kharkov, 
 but at that time Kiev was still in the hands of the 
 Directorate. 
 
 That night my room in the Red Fleet was so 
 cold that I went to bed in a sheepskin coat under 
 rugs and all possible bedclothes with a mattress 
 on the top. Even so I slept very badly. 
 
 The next day I spent in vain wrestlings to get 
 a better room. Walking about the town I found 
 it dotted with revolutionary sculptures, some very 
 bad, others interesting, all done in some haste and 
 set up for the celebrations of the anniversary of 
 the revolution last November. The painters also 
 had been turned loose to do what they could with 
 the hoardings, and though the weather had dam- 
 aged many of their pictures, enough was left to 
 show what an extraordinary carnival that had 
 been. Where a hoarding ran along the front of 
 a house being repaired the painters had used the 
 whole of it as a vast canvas on which they had 
 
 33
 
 painted huge symbolic pictures of the revolution. 
 A whole block in the Tverskaya was so decorated. 
 Best, I think, were the row of wooden booths al- 
 most opposite the Hotel National in the Okhotnia 
 Ryadi. These had been painted by the futurists 
 or kindred artists, and made a really delightful 
 effect, their bright colours and naif patterns seem- 
 ing so natural to Moscow that I found myself 
 wondering how it was that they had never been 
 so painted before. They used to be a uniform 
 dull yellow. Now, in clear primary colours, blue, 
 red, yellow, with rough flower designs, on white 
 and chequered back-grounds, with the masses of 
 snow in the road before them, and bright-ker- 
 chiefed women and peasants in ruddy sheepskin 
 coats passing by, they seemed less like futurist 
 paintings than like some traditional survival, link- 
 ing new Moscow with the Middle Ages. It is 
 perhaps interesting to note that certain staid 
 purists in the Moscow Soviet raised a protest 
 while I was there against the license given to the 
 futurists to spread themselves about the town, 
 and demanded that the art of the revolution should 
 be more comprehensible and less violent. These 
 
 34
 
 criticisms, however, did not apply to the row of 
 booths which were a pleasure to me every time 
 I passed them. 
 
 In the evening I went to see Remstein in the 
 National. Reinstein is a little old grandfather, 
 a member of the American Socialist Labour Party, 
 who was tireless in helping the Americans last 
 year, and is a prodigy of knowledge about the rev- 
 olution. He must be nearly seventy, never misses 
 a meeting of the Moscow Soviet or the Executive 
 Committee, gets up at seven in the morning, and 
 goes from one end of Moscow to the other to lec- 
 ture to the young men in training as officers for 
 the Soviet Army, more or less controls the English 
 soldier war prisoners, about whose Bolshevism he 
 is extremely pessimistic, and enjoys an official po- 
 sition as head of the quite futile department which 
 prints hundred-weight upon hundred-weight of 
 propaganda in English, none of which by any 
 chance ever reaches these shores. He was terribly 
 disappointed that I had brought no American 
 papers with me. He complained of the lack of 
 transport, a complaint which I think I must have 
 heard at least three times a day from different 
 
 35
 
 people the whole time I was in Moscow. Po- 
 litically, he thought, the position could not be 
 better, though economically it was very bad. 
 When they had corn, as it were, in sight, they 
 could not get it to the towns for lack of locomo- 
 tives. These economic difficulties were bound to 
 react sooner or later on the political position. 
 
 He talked about the English prisoners. The 
 men are brought to Moscow, where they are given 
 special passports and are allowed to go anywhere 
 they like about the town without convoy of any 
 kind. I asked about the officers, and he said that 
 they were in prison but given everything possible, 
 a member of the International Red Cross, who 
 worked with the Americans when they were here, 
 visiting them regularly and taking in parcels for 
 them. He told me that on hearing in Moscow 
 that some sort of fraternization was going on on 
 the Archangel front, he had hurried off there with 
 two prisoners, one English and one American. 
 With some difficulty a meeting was arranged. 
 Two officers and a sergeant from the Allied side 
 and Reinstein and these two prisoners from the 
 Russian, met on a bridge midway between the op- 
 
 36
 
 posing lines. The conversation seemed to have 
 been mostly an argument about working-class con- 
 ditions in America, together with reasons why the 
 Allies should go home and leave Russia alone. 
 Finally the Allied representatives (I fancy Amer- 
 icans) asked Reins tein to come with them to Arch- 
 angel and state his case, promising him safe con- 
 duct there and back. By this time two Russians 
 had joined the group, and one of them offered his 
 back as a desk, on which a safe-conduct for Rein- 
 stein was written. Reinstein, who showed me the 
 safe-conduct, doubted its validity, and said that 
 anyhow he could not have used it without instruc- 
 tions from Moscow. When it grew dusk they 
 prepared to separate. The officers said to the 
 prisoners, "What 4 ? Aren't you coming back with 
 us 1 ?" The two shook their heads decidedly, and 
 said, "No, thank you." 
 
 I learnt that some one was leaving the National 
 next day to go to Kharkov, so that I should prob- 
 ably be able to get a room. After drinking tea 
 with Reinstein till pretty late, I went home, bur- 
 rowed into a mountain of all sorts of clothes, and 
 slept a little. 
 
 37
 
 In the morning I succeeded in making out my 
 claim to the room at the National, which turned 
 out to be a very pleasant one, next door to the 
 kitchen and therefore quite decently warm. I 
 wasted a lot of time getting my stuff across. 
 Transport from one hotel to the other, though the 
 distance is not a hundred yards, cost forty roubles. 
 I got things straightened out, bought some books, 
 and prepared a list of the material needed and 
 the people I wanted to see. 
 
 The room was perfectly clean. The chamber- 
 maid who came in to tidy up quite evidently took 
 a pride in doing her work properly, and protested 
 against my throwing matches on the floor. She 
 said she had been in the hotel since it was opened. 
 I asked her how she liked the new regime. She 
 replied that there was not enough to eat, but that 
 she felt freer. 
 
 In the afternoon I went downstairs to the main 
 kitchens of the hotel, where there is a permanent 
 supply of hot water. One enormous kitchen is 
 set apart for the use of people living in the hotel. 
 Here I found a crowd of people, all using different 
 parts of the huge stove. There was an old grey- 
 
 38
 
 haired Cossack, with a scarlet tunic under his 
 black, wide-skirted, narrow-waisted coat, decorated 
 in the Cossack fashion with ornamental cartridges. 
 He was warming his soup, side by side with a little 
 Jewess making potato-cakes. A spectacled elderly 
 member of the Executive Committee was busy 
 doing something with a little bit of meat. Two 
 little girls were boiling potatoes in old tin cans. 
 In another room set apart for washing a sturdy 
 little long-haired revolutionary was cleaning a 
 shirt. A woman with her hair done up in a blue 
 handkerchief was very carefully ironing a blouse. 
 Another was busy stewing sheets, or something of 
 that kind, in a big cauldron. And all the time 
 people from all parts of the hotel were coming 
 with their pitchers and pans, from fine copper ket- 
 tles to disreputable empty meat tins, to fetch hot 
 water for tea. At the other side of the corridor 
 was a sort of counter in front of a long window 
 opening into yet another kitchen. Here there was 
 a row of people waiting with their own saucepans 
 and plates, getting their dinner allowances of soup 
 and meat in exchange for tickets. I was told that 
 people thought they got slightly more if they took 
 
 39
 
 their food in this way straight from the kitchen 
 to their own rooms instead of being served in the 
 restaurant. But I watched closely, and decided 
 it was only superstition. Besides, I had not got 
 a saucepan. 
 
 On paying for my room at the beginning of the 
 week I was given a card with the days of the week 
 printed along its edge. This card gave me the 
 right to buy one dinner daily, and when I bought 
 it that day of the week was snipped off the card 
 so that I could not buy another. The meal con- 
 sisted of a plate of very good soup, together with 
 a second course of a scrap of meat or fish. The 
 price of the meal varied between five and seven 
 roubles. 
 
 One could obtain this meal any time between 
 two and seven. Living hungrily through the 
 morning, at two o'clock I used to experience defi- 
 nite relief in the knowledge that now at any mo- 
 ment I could have my meal. Feeling in this way 
 less hungry, I used then to postpone it hour by 
 hour, and actually dined about five or six o'clock. 
 Thinking that I might indeed have been specially 
 favoured I made investigations, and found that 
 
 40
 
 the dinners supplied at the public feeding houses 
 (the equivalent of our national kitchens) were of 
 precisely the same size and character, any differ- 
 ence between the meals depending not on the food 
 but on the cook. 
 
 A kind of rough and ready co-operative system 
 also obtained. One day there was a notice on the 
 stairs that those who wanted could get one pot of 
 jam apiece by applying to the provisioning com- 
 mittee of the hotel. I got a pot of jam in this 
 way, and on a later occasion a small quantity of 
 Ukrainian sausage. 
 
 Besides the food obtainable on cards it was pos- 
 sible to buy, at ruinous prices, food from specu- 
 lators, and an idea of the difference in the prices 
 may be obtained from the following examples: 
 Bread is one rouble 20 kopecks per pound by card 
 and 15 to 20 roubles per pound from the specula- 
 tors. Sugar is 12 roubles per pound by card, and 
 never less than 50 roubles per pound in the open 
 market. It is obvious that abolition of the card 
 system would mean that the rich would have 
 enough and the poor nothing. Various methods 
 have been tried in the effort to get rid of specu- 
 
 41
 
 lators, whose high profits naturally decrease the 
 willingness of the villages to sell bread at less 
 abnormal rates. But as a Communist said to me, 
 "There is only one way to get rid of speculation, 
 and that is to supply enough on the card system. 
 When people can buy all they want at 1 rouble 20 
 they are not going to pay an extra 14 roubles for 
 the encouragement of speculators." "And when 
 will you be able to do that*?" I asked. "As soon 
 as the war ends, and we can use our transport for 
 peaceful purposes." 
 
 There can be no question about the starvation of 
 Moscow. On the third day after my arrival in 
 Moscow I saw a man driving a sledge laden with, 
 I think, horseflesh, mostly bones, probably dead 
 sledge horses. As he drove a black crowd of crows 
 followed the sledge and perched on it, tearing 
 greedily at the meat. He beat at them contin- 
 ually with his whip, but they were so famished 
 that they took no notice whatever. The starving 
 crows used even to force their way through the 
 small ventilators of the windows in my hotel to 
 pick up any scraps they could find inside. The 
 pigeons, which formerly crowded the streets, ut- 
 
 42
 
 terly undismayed by the traffic, confident in the 
 security given by their supposed connection with 
 religion, have completely disappeared. 
 
 Nor can there be any question about the cold. 
 I resented my own sufferings less when I found 
 that the State Departments were no better off than 
 other folk. Even in the Kremlin I found the 
 Keeper of the Archives sitting at work in an old 
 sheepskin coat and felt boots, rising now and then 
 to beat vitality into his freezing hands like a Lon- 
 don cabman of old times. 
 
 43
 
 THE EXECUTIVE COMMITTEE ON THE 
 REPLY TO THE PRINKIPO PRO- 
 POSAL 
 
 February loth. 
 
 IT will be remembered that a proposal was made 
 by the Peace Conference that the various de facto 
 governments of Russia should meet on an island 
 in the Bosphorus to discuss matters, an armistice 
 being arranged meanwhile. No direct invitation 
 was sent to the Soviet Government. After at- 
 tempting to obtain particulars t-hrough the editor 
 of a French socialist paper, Chicherin on February 
 4th sent a long note to the Allies. The note was 
 not at first considered with great favour in Rus- 
 sia, although it was approved by the opposition 
 parties on the right, the Mensheviks even going 
 so far as to say that in sending such a note, the 
 Bolsheviks were acting in the interest of the whole 
 of the Russian people. The opposition on the 
 
 44
 
 left complained that it was a betrayal of the revo- 
 lution into the hands of the Entente, and there 
 were many Bolsheviks who said openly that they 
 thought it went a little too far in the way of con- 
 cession. On February loth, the Executive Com- 
 mittee met to consider the international position. 
 Before proceeding to an account of that meet- 
 ing, it will be well to make a short summary of the 
 note in question. Chicherin, after referring to 
 the fact that no invitation had been addressed to 
 them and that the absence of a reply from them 
 was being treated as the rejection of a proposal 
 they had never received, said that in spite of its 
 more and more favourable position, the Russian 
 Soviet Government considered a cessation of hos- 
 tilities so desirable that it was ready immediately 
 to begin negotiations, and, as it had more than 
 once declared, to secure agreement "even at the 
 cost of serious concessions in so far as these should 
 not threaten the development of the Republic." 
 "Taking into consideration that the enemies 
 against whom it has to struggle borrow their 
 strength of resistance exclusively from the help 
 shown them by the powers of the Entente, and 
 
 45
 
 that therefore these powers are the only actual 
 enemy of the Russian Soviet Government, the 
 latter addresses itself precisely to the powers of 
 the Entente, setting out the points on which it con- 
 siders such concessions possible with a view to 
 the ending of every kind of conflict with the afore- 
 said powers." There follows a list of the conces- 
 sions they are prepared to make. The first of 
 these is recognition of their debts, the interest on 
 which, "in view of Russia's difficult financial po- 
 sition and her unsatisfactory credit," they propose 
 to guarantee in raw materials. Then, "in view 
 of the interest continually expressed by foreign 
 capital in the question of the exploitation for its 
 advantage of the natural resources of Russia, the 
 Soviet Government is ready to give to subjects of 
 the powers of the Entente mineral, timber and 
 other concessions, to be defined in detail, on con- 
 dition that the economic and social structure of 
 Soviet Russia shall not be touched by the internal 
 arrangements of these concessions." The last 
 point is that Which roused most opposition. It 
 expresses a willingness to negotiate even concern- 
 ing such annexations, hidden or open, as the Allies 
 
 4 6
 
 may have in mind. The words used are "The 
 Russian Soviet Government has not the intention 
 of excluding at all costs consideration of the ques- 
 tion of annexations, etc. . . ." Then, "by an- 
 nexations must be understood the retention on this 
 or that part of the territory of what was the Rus- 
 sian Empire, not including Poland and Finland, 
 of armed forces of the Entente or of such forces 
 as are maintained by the governments of the En- 
 tente or enjoy their financial, military, technical 
 or other support." There follows a statement 
 that the extent of the concessions will depend on 
 the military position. Chicherin proceeds to give 
 a rather optimistic account of the external and 
 internal situation. Finally he touches on the 
 question of propaganda. "The Russian Soviet 
 Government, while pointing out that it cannot 
 limit the freedom of the revolutionary press, de- 
 clares its readiness, in case of necessity, to include 
 in the general agreement with the powers of the 
 Entente the obligation not to interfere in their 
 internal affairs." The note ends thus : "On the 
 foregoing bases the Russian Soviet Government 
 is ready immediately to begin negotiations either 
 
 47
 
 on Prinkipo island or in any other place whatso- 
 ever with all the powers of the Entente together 
 or with separate powers of their number, or with 
 any Russian political groupings whatsoever, ac- 
 cording to the wishes of the powers of the Entente. 
 The Russian Soviet Government begs the powers 
 of the Entente immediately to inform it whither 
 to send its representatives, and precisely when and 
 by what route." This note was dated February 
 4th, and was sent out by wireless. 
 
 From the moment when the note appeared in 
 the newspapers of February 5th, it had been the 
 main subject of conversation. Every point in it 
 was criticized and counter-criticized, but even its 
 critics, though anxious to preserve their criticism 
 as a basis for political action afterwards, were des- 
 perately anxious that it should meet with a reply. 
 No one in Moscow at that time could have the 
 slightest misgiving about the warlike tendencies 
 of the revolution. The overwhelming mass of the 
 people and of the revolutionary leaders want 
 peace, and only continued warfare forced upon 
 them could turn their desire for peace into des- 
 perate, resentful aggression. Everywhere I heard
 
 the same story: "We cannot get things straight 
 while we have to fight all the time." They would 
 not admit it, I am sure, but few of the Soviet 
 leaders who have now for eighteen months been 
 wrestling with the difficulties of European Russia 
 have not acquired, as it were in spite of them- 
 selves, a national, domestic point of view. They 
 are thinking less about world revolution than 
 about getting bread to Moscow, or increasing the 
 output of textiles, or building river power-stations 
 to free the northern industrial district from its 
 dependence on the distant coal-fields. I was con- 
 sequently anxious to hear what the Executive 
 Committee would have to say, knowing that there 
 I should listen to some expression of the theoret- 
 ical standpoint from which my hard-working 
 friends had been drawn away by interests nearer 
 home. 
 
 The Executive Committee met as usual in the 
 big hall of the Hotel Metropole, and it met as 
 usual very late. The sitting was to begin at 
 seven, and, foolishly thinking that Russians might 
 have changed their nature in the last six months, 
 I was punctual and found the hall nearly empty, 
 
 49
 
 because a party meeting of the Communists in the 
 room next door was not finished. The hall looked 
 just as it used to look, with a red banner over the 
 presidium and another at the opposite end, both, 
 inscribed "The All Russian Executive Commit- 
 tee," "Proletariat of all lands, unite," and so on. 
 As the room gradually filled, I met many acquaint- 
 ances. 
 
 Old Professor Pokrovsky came in, blinking 
 through his spectacles, bent a little, in a very old 
 coat, with a small black fur hat, his hands clasped 
 together, just as, so I have been told, he walked 
 unhappily to and fro in the fortress at Brest dur- 
 ing the second period of the negotiations. I did 
 not think he would recognize me, but he came up 
 at once, and reminded me of the packing of the 
 archives at the time when it seemed likely that 
 the Germans would take Petrograd. He told me 
 of a mass of material they are publishing about 
 the origin of the war. He said that England 
 came out of it best of anybody, but that France 
 and Russia showed in a very bad light. 
 
 Just then, Demian Biedny rolled in, fatter than 
 he used to be (admirers from the country send him 
 
 50
 
 food) with a round face, shrewd laughing eyes, 
 and cynical mouth, a typical peasant, and the poet 
 of the revolution. He was passably shaved, his 
 little yellow moustache was trimmed, he was wear- 
 ing new leather breeches, and seemed altogether a 
 more prosperous poet than the untidy ruffian I 
 -first met about a year or more ago before his 
 satirical poems in Pravda and other revolution- 
 ary papers had reached the heights of popularity 
 to which they have since attained. In the old days 
 before the revolution in Petrograd he used to send 
 his poems to the revolutionary papers. A few 
 were published and scandalized the more austere 
 and serious-minded revolutionaries, who held a 
 meeting to decide whether any more were to be 
 printed. Since the revolution, he has rapidly 
 come into his own, and is now a sort of licensed 
 jester, flagellating Communists and non-Com- 
 munists alike. Even in this assembly he had 
 about him a little of the manner of Robert Burns 
 in Edinburgh society. He told me with expan- 
 sive glee that they had printed two hundred and 
 fifty thousand of his last book, that the whole 
 edition was sold in two weeks, and that he had had 
 
 51
 
 his portrait painted by a real artist. It is actually 
 true that of his eighteen different works, only two 
 are obtainable to-day. 
 
 Madame Radek, who last year showed a genius 
 for the making of sandwiches with chopped leeks, 
 and did good work for Russia as head of the Com- 
 mittee for dealing with Russian war prisoners, 
 came and sat down beside me, and complained 
 bitterly that the authorities wanted to turn her 
 out of the grand ducal apartments in the Kremlin 
 and make them into a historical museum to illus- 
 trate the manner of life of the Romanovs. She 
 said she was sure that was simply an excuse and 
 that the real reason was that Madame Trotsky did 
 not like her having a better furnished room than 
 her own. It seems that the Trotskys, when they 
 moved into the Kremlin, chose a lodging ex- 
 tremely modest in comparison with the gorgeous 
 place where I had found Madame Radek. 
 
 All this time the room was filling, as the party 
 meeting ended and the members of the Executive 
 Committee came in to take their places. I was 
 asking Litvinov whether he was going to speak, 
 when a little hairy energetic man came up and 
 
 52
 
 with great delight showed us the new matches in- 
 vented in the Soviet laboratories. Russia is short 
 of match-wood, and without paraffin. Besides 
 which I think I am right in saying that the bulk 
 of the matches used in the north came from fac- 
 tories in Finland. In these new Bolshevik 
 matches neither wood nor paraffin is used. Waste 
 paper is a substitute for one, and the grease that 
 is left after cleaning wool is a substitute for the 
 other. The little man, Berg, secretary of the 
 Presidium of the Council of Public Economy, 
 gave me a packet of his matches. They are like 
 the matches in a folding cover that used to be com- 
 mon in Paris. You break off a match before 
 striking it. They strike and burn better than any 
 matches I have ever bought in Russia, and I do 
 not see why they should not be made in England, 
 where we have to import all the materials of 
 which ordinary matches are made. I told Berg 
 I should try to patent them and so turn myself 
 into a capitalist. Another Communist, who was 
 listening, laughed, and said that most fortunes 
 were founded in just such a fraudulent way. 
 Then there was Steklov of the Izvestia^ Ma- 
 
 53
 
 dame Kollontai, and a lot of other people whose 
 names I do not remember. Little Bucharin, the 
 editor of Pravda and one of the most interesting 
 talkers in Moscow, who is ready to discuss any 
 philosophy you like, from Berkeley and Locke 
 down to Bergson and William James, trotted up 
 and shook hands. Suddenly a most unexpected 
 figure limped through the door. This was the 
 lame Eliava of the Vologda Soviet, who came up 
 in great surprise at seeing me again, and reminded 
 me how Radek and I, hungry from Moscow, aston- 
 ished the hotel of the Golden Anchor by eating 
 fifteen eggs apiece, when we came to Vologda last 
 summer (I acted as translator during Radek's con- 
 versations with the American Ambassador and Mr. 
 Lindley). Eliava is a fine, honest fellow, and 
 had a very difficult time in Vologda where the 
 large colony of foreign embassies and missions nat- 
 urally became the centre of disaffection in a dis- 
 trict which at the time was full of inflammable 
 material. I remember when we parted from him, 
 Radek said to me that he hardly thought he would 
 see him alive again. He told me he had left Vo- 
 logda some three months ago and was now going 
 
 54
 
 to Turkestan. He did not disguise the resentment 
 he felt towards M. Noulens (the French Ambas- 
 sador) who, he thought, had stood in the way of 
 agreement last year, but said that he had nothing 
 whatever to say against Lindley. 
 
 At last there was a little stir in the raised presi- 
 dium, and the meeting began. When I saw the 
 lean, long-haired Avanesov take his place as secre- 
 tary, and Sverdlov, the president, lean forward a 
 little, ring his bell, and announce that the meeting 
 was open and that "Comrade Chicherin has the 
 word," I could hardly believe that I had been away 
 six months. 
 
 Chicherin's speech took the form of a general 
 report on the international situation. He spoke a 
 little more clearly than he was used to do, but even 
 so I had to walk round to a place close under the 
 tribune before I could hear him. He sketched the 
 history of the various steps the Soviet Government 
 has taken in trying to secure peace, even including 
 such minor "peace offensives" as Litvinov's per- 
 sonal telegram to President Wilson. He then 
 weighed, in no very hopeful spirit, the possibilities 
 of this last Note to all the Allies having any seri- 
 
 55
 
 ous result. He estimated the opposing tendencies 
 for and against war with Russia in each of the 
 principal countries concerned. The growth of 
 revolutionary feeling abroad made imperialistic 
 governments even more aggressive towards the 
 Workers' and Peasants' Republic than they would 
 otherwise be. It was now making their interven- 
 tion difficult, but no more. It was impossible to 
 say that the collapse of Imperialism had gone so 
 far that it had lost its teeth. Chicherin speaks as 
 if he were a dead man or a ventriloquist's lay fig- 
 ure. And indeed he is half-dead. He has never 
 learnt the art of releasing himself from drudgery 
 by handing it over to his subordinates. He is per- 
 manently tired out. You feel it is almost cruel to 
 say "Good morning" to him when you meet him, 
 because of the appeal to be left alone that comes 
 unconsciously into his eyes. Partly in order to 
 avoid people, partly because he is himself accus- 
 tomed to work at night, his section of the foreign 
 office keeps extraordinary hours, is not to be found 
 till about five in the afternoon and works till four 
 in the morning. The actual material of his report 
 was interesting, but there was nothing in its man- 
 
 56
 
 ner to rouse enthusiasm of any kind. The audi- 
 ence listened with attention, but only woke into 
 real animation when with a shout of laughter it 
 heard an address sent to Clemenceau by the emigre 
 financiers, aristocrats and bankrupt politicians of 
 the Russian colony in Stockholm, protesting 
 against any sort of agreement- with the Bolsheviks. 
 Bucharin followed Chicherin. A little eager 
 figure in his neat brown clothes (bought, I think, 
 while visiting Berlin as a member of the Economic 
 Commission), he at least makes himself clearly 
 heard, though his voice has a funny tendency to 
 breaking. He compared the present situation with 
 the situation before Brest. He had himself (as I 
 well remember) been with Radek, one of the most 
 violent opponents of the Brest peace, and he now 
 admitted that at that time Lenin had been right 
 and he wrong. The position was now different, 
 because whereas then imperialism was split into 
 two camps fighting each other, it now showed signs 
 of uniting its forces. He regarded the League of 
 Nations as a sort of capitalist syndicate, and said 
 that the difference in the French and American 
 attitude towards the League depended upon the 
 
 57
 
 position of French and American capital. Capital 
 in France was so weak, that she could at best be 
 only a small shareholder. Capital in America was 
 in a very advantageous position. America there- 
 fore wanted a huge All-European syndicate in 
 which each state would have a certain number of 
 shares. America, having the greatest number of 
 shares, would be able to exploit all the other na- 
 tions. This is a fixed idea of Bucharin's, and he 
 has lost no opportunity of putting out this theory 
 of the League of Nations since the middle of last 
 summer. As for Chicherin's Note, he said it had 
 at least great historical interest on account of the 
 language it used, which was very different from 
 the hypocritical language of ordinary diplomacy. 
 Here were no phrases about noble motives, but a 
 plain recognition of the facts of the case. "Tell 
 us what you want," it says, "and we are ready to 
 buy you off, in order to avoid armed conflict." 
 Even if the Allies gave no answer the Note would 
 still have served a useful purpose and would be a 
 landmark in history. 
 
 Litvinov followed Bucharin. A solid, jolly, 
 round man, with his peaked grey fur hat on his 
 
 58
 
 head, rounder than ever in fur-collared, thick coat, 
 his eye-glasses slipping from his nose as he got up, 
 his grey muffler hanging from his neck, he hurried 
 to the tribune. Taking off his things and leaving 
 them on a chair below, he stepped up into the 
 tribune with his hair all rumpled, a look of ex- 
 treme seriousness on his face, and spoke with a 
 voice whose capacity and strength astonished me 
 who had not heard him speak in public before. 
 He spoke very well, with more sequence than 
 Bucharin, and much vitality, and gave his sum- 
 mary of the position abroad. He said (and Lenin 
 expressed the same view to me afterwards) that 
 the hostility of different countries to Soviet Russia 
 varied in direct proportion to their fear of revolu- 
 tion at home. Thus France, whose capital had 
 suffered most in the war and was weakest, was the 
 most uncompromising, while America, whose capi- 
 tal was in a good position, was ready for agree- 
 ment. England, with rather less confidence, he 
 thought was ready to follow America. Need of 
 raw material was the motive tending towards 
 agreement with Russia. Fear that the mere exis- 
 tence of a Labour Government anywhere in the 
 
 59
 
 world strengthens the revolutionary movement 
 elsewhere, was the motive for the desire to wipe 
 out the Soviet at all cost. Chicherin's note, he 
 thought, would emphasize the difference between 
 these opposing views and would tend to make im- 
 possible an alliance of the capitalists against 
 Russia. 
 
 Finally, Kamenev, now President of the Mos- 
 cow Soviet, spoke, objecting to Bucharin's com- 
 parison of the peace now sought with that of Brest 
 Litovsk. Then everything was in a state of ex- 
 periment and untried. Now it was clear to the 
 world that the unity of Russia could be achieved 
 only under the Soviets. The powers opposed to 
 them could not but recognize this fact. Some 
 parts of Russia (Ukraine) had during the last 
 fifteen months experienced every kind of govern- 
 ment, from the Soviets, the dictatorship of the pro- 
 letariat, to the dictatorship of foreign invaders 
 and the dictatorship of a General of the old regime, 
 and they had after all returned to the Soviets. 
 Western European imperialists must realize that 
 the only Government in Russia which rested on 
 
 60
 
 the popular masses was the Government of the 
 Soviets and no other. Even the paper of the 
 Mensheviks, commenting on Chicherin's note, had 
 declared that by this step the Soviet Government 
 had shown that it was actually a national Govern- 
 ment acting in the interests of the nation. He 
 further read a statement by Right Social Revolu- 
 tionaries (delegates of that group, members of the 
 Constituent Assembly, were in the gallery) to the 
 effect that they were prepared to help the Soviet 
 Government as the only Government in Russia 
 that was fighting against a dictatorship of the 
 bourgeoisie. 
 
 Finally, the Committee unanimously passed a 
 resolution approving every step taken in trying to 
 obtain peace, and at the same time "sending a fra- 
 ternal greeting to the Red Army of workers and 
 peasants engaged in ensuring the independence of 
 Soviet Russia." The meeting then turned to talk 
 of other things. 
 
 I left, rather miserable to think how little I had 
 foreseen when Soviet Russia was compelled last 
 year to sign an oppressive peace with Germany, 
 
 61
 
 that the time would come when they would be 
 trying to buy peace from ourselves. As I went 
 out I saw another unhappy figure, unhappy for 
 quite different reasons. Angelica Balabanova, 
 after dreaming all her life of socialism in the most 
 fervent Utopian spirit, had come at last to Russia 
 to find that a socialist state was faced with diffi- 
 culties at least as real as those which confront 
 other states, that in the battle there was little sen- 
 timent and much cynicism, and that dreams 
 worked out in terms of humanity in the face of the 
 opposition of the whole of the rest of the world 
 are not easily recognized by their dreamers. Poor 
 little Balabanova, less than five feet high, in a 
 black coat that reached to her feet but did not 
 make her look any taller, was wandering about like 
 a lost and dejected spirit. Not so, she was think- 
 ing, should socialists deal with their enemies. 
 Somehow, but not so. Had the silver trumpets 
 blown seven times vn vain, and was it really neces- 
 sary to set to work and, stone by stone, with bleed- 
 ing hands, level the walls of Jericho ? 
 
 There was snow falling as I walked home. 
 Two workmen, arguing, were walking in front of 
 
 62
 
 me. "If only it were not for the hunger," said 
 one. "But will that ever change 1 ?" said the 
 other. '
 
 KAMENEV AND THE MOSCOW SOVIET 
 
 February nth. 
 
 LITVINOV has been unlucky in his room in the 
 Metropole. It is small, dark and dirty, and colder 
 than mine. He was feeling ill and his chest was 
 hurting him, perhaps because of his speech last 
 night; but while I was there Kamenev rang him 
 up on the telephone, told him he had a car below, 
 and would he come at once to the Moscow Soviet 
 to speak on the international situation*? Litvinov 
 tried to excuse himself, but it was no use, and he 
 said to me that if I wanted to see Kamenev I had 
 better come along. We found Kamenev in the 
 hall, and after a few minutes in a little Ford car 
 we were at the Moscow Soviet. The Soviet 
 meets in the small lecture theatre of the old Poly- 
 technic. When we arrived, a party meeting was 
 going on, and Kamenev, Litvinov, and I went 
 behind the stage to a little empty room, where we
 
 were joined by a member of the Soviet whose 
 name I forget. 
 
 It was Kamenev's first talk with Litvinov after 
 his return, and I think they forgot that I was 
 there. Kamenev asked Litvinov what he meant 
 to do, and Litvinov told him he wished to establish 
 a special department of control to receive all com- 
 plaints, to examine into the efficiency of different 
 commissariats, to get rid of parallelism, etc., and, 
 in fact, to be the most unpopular department in 
 Moscow. Kamenev laughed. "You need not 
 think you are the first to have that idea. Every 
 returning envoy without exception has the same. 
 Coming back from abroad they notice more than 
 we do the inefficiencies here, and at once think 
 they will set everything right. Rakovsky sat here 
 for months dreaming of nothing else. Joffe was 
 the same when he came back from that tidy Berlin. 
 Now you; and when Vorovsky comes (Vorovsky 
 was still in Petrograd) I am ready to wager that 
 he too has a scheme for general control waiting in 
 his pocket. The thing cannot be done. The only 
 way is, when something obviously needs doing, to 
 put in some one we can trust to get it done. Soap 
 
 65
 
 is hard to get. Good. Establish a commission 
 and soap instantly disappears. But put in one 
 man to see that soap is forthcoming, and somehow 
 or other we get it." 
 
 "Where is the soap industry concentrated?" 
 "There are good factories, well equipped, here, 
 but they are not working, partly for lack of mate- 
 rial and partly, perhaps, because some crazy fool 
 imagined that to take an inventory you must bring 
 everything to a standstill." 
 
 Litvinov asked him what he thought of the posi- 
 tion as a whole. He said good, if only transport 
 could be improved; but before the public of Mos- 
 cow could feel an appreciable improvement it 
 would be necessary that a hundred wagons of 
 foodstuffs should be coming in daily. At present 
 there are seldom more than twenty. I asked Ka- 
 menev about the schools, and he explained that 
 one of their difficulties was due to the militarism 
 forced upon them by external attacks. He ex- 
 plained that the new Red Army soldiers, being 
 mostly workmen, are accustomed to a higher stand- 
 ard of comfort than the old army soldiers, who 
 were mostly peasants. They objected to the 
 
 66
 
 planks which served as beds in the old, abomin- 
 able, over-crowded and unhealthy barracks. 
 Trotsky, looking everywhere for places to put his 
 darlings, found nothing more suitable than the 
 schools; and, in Kamenev's words, "We have to 
 fight hard for every school." Another difficulty, 
 he said, was the lack of school books. Histories, 
 for example, written under the censorship and in 
 accordance with the principles of the old regime, 
 were now useless, and new ones were not ready, 
 apart from the difficulty of getting paper and of 
 printing. A lot, however, was being done. 
 There was no need for a single child in Moscow to 
 go hungry. 150,000 to 180,000 children got free 
 meals daily in the schools. Over 10,000 pairs of 
 felt boots had been given to children who needed 
 them. The number of libraries had enormously 
 increased. Physically workmen lived in far worse 
 conditions than in 1912, but as far as their spirit- 
 ual welfare was concerned there could be no com- 
 parison. Places like the famous Yar restaurant, 
 where once the rich went to amuse themselves 
 with orgies of feeding and drinking and flirting 
 with gypsies, were now made into working men's
 
 clubs and theatres, where every working man had 
 a right to go. As for the demand for literature 
 from the provinces, it was far beyond the utmost 
 efforts of the presses and the paper stores to 
 supply. 
 
 When the party meeting ended, we went back 
 to the lecture room where the members of the 
 Soviet had already settled themselves in their 
 places. I was struck at once by the absence of the 
 general public which in the old days used to 
 crowd the galleries to overflowing. The political 
 excitement of the revolution has passed, and to- 
 day there were no more spectators than are usually 
 to be found in the gallery of the House of Com- 
 mons. The character of the Soviet itself had not 
 changed. Practically every man sitting on the 
 benches was obviously a workman and keenly in- 
 tent on what was being said. Litvinov practi- 
 cally repeated his speech of last night, making it, 
 however, a little more demagogic in character, 
 pointing out that after the Allied victory, the only 
 corner of the world not dominated by Allied capi- 
 tal was Soviet Russia. 
 
 The Soviet passed a resolution expressing "firm 
 68
 
 confidence that the Soviet Government will suc- 
 ceed in getting peace and so in opening a wide road 
 to the construction of a proletarian state." A note 
 was passed up to Kamenev who, glancing at it, an- 
 nounced that the newly elected representative of 
 the Chinese workmen in Moscow wished to speak. 
 This was Chitaya Kuni, a solid little Chinaman 
 with a big head, in black leather coat and breeches. 
 I had often seen him before, and wondered who he 
 was. He was received with great cordiality and 
 made a quiet, rather shy speech in which he told 
 them he was learning from them how to introduce 
 socialism in China, and more compliments of the 
 same sort. Reinstein replied, telling how at an 
 American labour congress some years back the 
 Americans shut the door in the face of a represent- 
 ative of a union of foreign workmen. "Such," he 
 said, "was the feeling in America at the time when 
 Gompers was supreme, but that time has passed." 
 Still, as I listened to Reinstein, I wondered in how 
 many other countries besides Russia, a representa- 
 tive of foreign labour would be thus welcomed. 
 The reason has probably little to do with the good- 
 heartedness of the Russians. Owing to the gen- 
 
 69
 
 eral unification of wages Mr. Kuni could not rep- 
 resent the competition of cheap labour. I talked 
 to the Chinaman afterwards. He is president of 
 the Chinese Soviet. He told me they had just 
 about a thousand Chinese workmen in Moscow, 
 and therefore had a right to representation in the 
 government of the town. I asked about the Chi- 
 nese in the Red Army, and he said there were two 
 or three thousand, not more. 
 
 70
 
 AN EX-CAPITALIST 
 
 February 13th. 
 
 I DRANK tea with an old acquaintance from the 
 provinces, a Russian who, before the revolution, 
 owned a leather-bag factory which worked in close 
 connection with his uncle's tannery. He gave me 
 a short history of events at home. The uncle had 
 started with small capital, and during the war had 
 made enough to buy outright the tannery in which 
 he had had shares. The story of his adventures 
 since the October revolution is a very good illus- 
 tration of the rough and ready way in which theory 
 gets translated into practice. I am writing it, as 
 nearly as possible, as it was told by the nephew. 
 
 During the first revolution, that is from March 
 till October 1917, he fought hard against the 
 workmen, and was one of the founders of a Soviet 
 of factory owners, the object of which was to de- 
 feat the efforts of the workers' Soviets. 1 This, of 
 
 1 By agreeing upon lock-outs, etc. 
 71
 
 course, was smashed by the October Revolution, 
 and "Uncle, after being forced, as a property 
 owner, to pay considerable contributions, watched 
 the newspapers closely, realized that after the na- 
 tionalization of the banks resistance was hopeless, 
 and resigned himself to do what he could, not to 
 lose his factory altogether." 
 
 He called together all the workmen, and pro- 
 posed that they should form an artel or co-opera- 
 tive society and take the factory into their own 
 hands, each man contributing a thousand roubles 
 towards the capital with which to run it. Of 
 course the workmen had not got a thousand roubles 
 apiece, "so uncle offered to pay it in for them, on 
 the understanding that they would eventually pay 
 him back." This was illegal, but the little town 
 was a long way from the centre of things, and it 
 seemed a good way out of the difficulty. He did 
 not expect to get it back, but he hoped in this way 
 to keep control of the tannery, which he wished to 
 develop, having a paternal interest in it. 
 
 Things worked very well. They elected a com- 
 mittee of control. "Uncle was -elected president, 
 I was elected vice-president, and there were three 
 
 72
 
 workmen. We are working on those lines to this 
 day. They give uncle 1,500 roubles a month, 
 me a thousand, and the bookkeeper a thousand. 
 The only difficulty is that the men will treat uncle 
 as the owner, and this may mean trouble if things 
 go wrong. Uncle is for ever telling them, 'It's 
 your factory, don't call me Master,' and they 
 reply, 'Yes, it's our factory all right, but you are 
 still Master, and that must be.' " 
 
 Trouble came fast enough, with the tax levied 
 on the propertied classes. "Uncle," very wisely, 
 had ceased to be a property owner. He had given 
 up his house to the factory, and been allotted 
 rooms in it, as president of the factory Soviet. 
 He was therefore really unable to pay when the 
 people from the District Soviet came to tell him 
 that he had been assessed to pay a tax of sixty 
 thousand roubles. He explained the position. 
 The nephew was also present and joined in the 
 argument, whereupon the tax-collectors consulted 
 a bit of paper and retorted, "A tax of twenty thou- 
 sand has been assessed on you too. Be so good as 
 to put your coat on." 
 
 That meant arrest, and the nephew said he had 
 73
 
 five thousand roubles and would pay that, but 
 could pay no more. Would that do*? 
 
 "Very well," said the tax-collector, "fetch it." 
 
 The nephew fetched it. 
 
 "And now put your coat on." 
 
 "But you said it would be all right if I paid the 
 five thousand !" 
 
 "That's the only way to deal with people like 
 you. We recognize that your case is hard, and 
 we dare say that you will get off. But the Soviet 
 has told us to collect the whole tax or the people 
 who refuse to pay it, and they have decreed that 
 if we came back without one or the other, we shall 
 go to prison ourselves. You can hardly expect us 
 to go and sit in prison out of pity for you. So on 
 with your coat and come along." 
 
 They went, and at the militia headquarters were 
 shut into a room with barred windows where they 
 were presently joined by most of the other rich 
 men of the town, all in a rare state of indignation, 
 and some of them very angry with "Uncle," for 
 taking things so quietly. "Uncle was worrying 
 about nothing in the world but the tannery and 
 the leather-works which he was afraid might get 
 
 74
 
 into difficulties now that both he and I were un- 
 der lock and key." 
 
 The plutocracy of the town being thus gathered 
 in the little room at the militia-house, their wives 
 came, timorously at first, and chattered through 
 the windows. My informant, being unmarried, 
 sent word to two or three of his friends, in order 
 that he might not be the only one without some 
 one to talk with outside. The noise was some- 
 thing prodigious, and the head of the militia 
 finally ran out into the street and arrested one of 
 the women, but was so discomfited when she re- 
 moved her shawl and he recognized her as his host- 
 ess at a house where he had been billeted as a sol- 
 dier that he hurriedly let her go. The extraordi- 
 nary parliament between the rich men of the town 
 and their wives and friends, like a crowd of hoodie 
 crows, chattering outside the window, continued 
 until dark. I 
 
 Next day the workmen from the tannery came 
 to the militia-house and explained that "Uncle" 
 had really ceased to be a member of the propertied 
 classes, that he was necessary to them as president 
 of their soviet, and that they were willing to secure 
 
 75
 
 his release by paying half of the tax demanded 
 from him out of the factory funds. Uncle got 
 together thirty thousand, the factory contributed 
 another thirty, and he was freed, being given a 
 certificate that he had ceased to be an exploiter or 
 a property owner, and would in future be subject 
 only to such taxes as might be levied on the work- 
 ing population. The nephew was also freed, on 
 the grounds that he was wanted at the leather- 
 works. 
 
 I asked him how things were going on. He 
 said, "Fairly well, only uncle keeps worrying be- 
 cause the men still call him 'Master.' Otherwise, 
 he is very happy because he has persuaded the 
 workmen to set aside a large proportion of the 
 profits for developing the business and building a 
 new wing to the tannery." 
 
 "Do the men work?" 
 
 "Well," he said, "we thought that when the 
 factory was in their own hands they would work 
 better, but we do not think they do so, not notice- 
 ably, anyhow." 
 
 "Do they work worse?" 
 
 "No, that is not noticeable either."
 
 I tried to get at his political views. Last sum- 
 mer he had told me that the Soviet Government 
 could not last more than another two or three 
 months. He was then looking forward to its 
 downfall. Now he did not like it any better, but 
 he was very much afraid of war being brought 
 into Russia, or rather of the further disorders 
 which war would cause. He took a queer sort of 
 pride in the way in which the territory of the Rus- 
 sian republic was gradually resuming its old fron- 
 tiers. "In the old days no one ever thought the 
 Red Army would come to anything," he said. 
 "You can't expect much from the Government, 
 but it does keep order, and I can do my work and 
 rub along all right." It was quite funny to hear 
 him in one breath grumbling at the revolution and 
 in the next anxiously asking whether I did not 
 think they had weathered the storm, so that there 
 would be no more disorders. 
 
 Knowing that in some country places there had 
 been appalling excesses, I asked him how the Red 
 Terror that followed the attempt on the life of 
 Lenin had shown itself in their district. He 
 laughed. 
 
 77
 
 "We got off very cheaply," he said. "This is 
 what happened. A certain rich merchant's widow 
 had a fine house, with enormous stores of all kinds 
 of things, fine knives and forks, and too many of 
 everything. For instance, she had twenty-two 
 samovars of all sizes and sorts. Typical mer- 
 chant's house, so many tablecloths that they could 
 not use them all if they lived to be a hundred. 
 Well, one fine day, early last summer, she was told 
 that her house was wanted and that she must clear 
 out. For two days she ran hither and thither try- 
 ing to get out of giving it up. Then she saw it 
 was no good, and piled all those things, samovars 
 and knives and forks and dinner services and table- 
 cloths and overcoats (there were over a dozen fur 
 overcoats) in the garrets which she closed and 
 sealed, and got the president of the Soviet to come 
 and put his seal also. In the end things were so 
 friendly that he even put a sentinel there to see 
 that the seal should not be broken. Then came 
 the news from ,Petrograd and Moscow about the 
 Red terror, and the Soviet, after holding a meet- 
 ing and deciding that it ought to do something, and 
 being on too good terms with all of us to do any- 
 
 78
 
 thing very bad, suddenly remembered poor Maria 
 Nicolaevna's garrets. They broke the seals and 
 tumbled out all the kitchen things, knives, forks, 
 plates, furniture, the twenty-two samovars and the 
 overcoats, took them in carts to the Soviet and de- 
 clared them national property. National prop- 
 erty ! And a week or two later there was a wed- 
 ding of a daughter of one of the members of the 
 Soviet, and somehow or other the knives and forks 
 were on the table, and as for samovars, there were 
 enough to make tea for a hundred." 
 
 79
 
 A THEORIST OF REVOLUTION 
 
 February 13th. 
 
 AFTER yesterday's talk with a capitalist victim of 
 the revolution, I am glad for the sake of contrast 
 to set beside it a talk with one of the revolution's 
 jchief theorists. The leather-worker illustrated the 
 revolution as it affects an individual. The revolu- 
 tionary theorist was quite incapable of even con- 
 sidering his own or any other individual interests 
 and thought only in terms of enormous move- 
 ments in which the experiences of an individual 
 had only the significance of the adventures of one 
 ant among a myriad. Bucharin, member of the 
 old economic mission to Berlin, violent opponent 
 of the Brest peace, editor of Pravda, author of 
 many books on economics and revolution, indefa- 
 tigable theorist, found me drinking tea at a table 
 in the Metropole. 
 
 I had just bought a copy of a magazine which 
 80
 
 contained a map of the world, in which most of 
 Europe was coloured red or pink for actual or po- 
 tential revolution. I showed it to Bucharin and 
 said, "You cannot be surprised that people abroad 
 talk of you as of the new Imperialists." 
 
 Bucharin took the map and looked at it. 
 
 "Idiotism, rank idiotism!" he said. "At the 
 same time," he added, "I do think we have entered 
 upon a period of revolution which may last fifty 
 years before the revolution is at last victorious in 
 all Europe and finally in all the world." 
 
 Now, I have a stock theory which I am used to 
 set before revolutionaries of all kinds, nearly al- 
 ways with interesting results. (See p. 118.) I 
 tried it on Bucharin. I said : 
 
 "You people are always saying that there will 
 be revolution in England. Has it not occurred to 
 you that England is a factory and not a granary, 
 so that in the event of revolution we should be 
 immediately cut off from all food supplies. Ac- 
 cording to your own theories, English capital 
 would unite with American in ensuring that within 
 six weeks the revolution had nothing to eat. Eng- 
 land is not a country like Russia where you can 
 
 8l
 
 feed yourselves somehow or other by simply walk- 
 ing to where there is food. Six weeks would see 
 starvation and reaction in England. I am in- 
 clined to think that a revolution in England 
 would do Russia more harm than good." 
 
 Bucharin laughed. "You old counter-revolu- 
 tionary !" he said. "That would be all true, but 
 you must look further. You are right in one 
 thing. If the revolution spreads in Europe, Amer- 
 ica will cut off food supplies. But by that time 
 we shall be getting food from Siberia." 
 
 "And is the poor Siberian railway to feed Rus- 
 sia, Germany, and England*?" 
 
 "Before then Pichon and his friends will have 
 gone. There will be France to feed too. But 
 you must not forget that there are the cornfields 
 of Hungary and Roumania. Once civil war ends 
 in Europe, Europe can feed herself. With Eng- 
 lish and German engineering assistance we shall 
 soon turn Russia into an effective grain supply for 
 all the working men's republics of the Continent. 
 But even then the task will be only beginning. 
 The moment there is revolution in England, the 
 English colonies will throw themselves eagerly 
 
 82
 
 into the arms of America. Then will come Amer- 
 ica's turn, and, finally, it is quite likely that we 
 shall all have to combine to overthrow the last 
 stronghold of capitalism in some South African 
 bourgeois republic. I can well imagine," he said, 
 looking far away with his bright little eyes through 
 the walls of the dark dining room, ''that the work- 
 ing men's republics of Europe may have to have a 
 colonial policy of an inverse kind. Just as now 
 you conquer backward races in order to exploit 
 them, so in the future you may have to conquer the 
 colonists to take from them the means of exploita- 
 tion. There is only one thing I am afraid of." 
 
 "And what is that?" 
 
 "Sometimes I am afraid that the struggle will 
 be so bitter and so long drawn out that the whole 
 of European culture may be trampled under foot." 
 
 I thought of my leather-worker of yesterday, 
 one of thousands experiencing in their own persons 
 the appalling discomforts, the turn over and re- 
 valuation of all established values that revolution, 
 even without death and civil war, means to the 
 ordinary man; and, being perhaps a little faint- 
 hearted, I finished my tea in silence. Bucharin, 
 
 83
 
 after carelessly opening these colossal perspectives, 
 drank his tea in one gulp, prodigiously sweetened 
 with my saccharin, reminded me of his illness in 
 the summer, when Radek scoured the town for 
 sweets for him, curing him with no other medicine, 
 and then hurried off, fastening his coat as he went, 
 a queer little De Quincey of revolution, to disap- 
 pear into the dusk, before, half running, half walk- 
 ing, as his way is, he reached the other end of the 
 big dimly lit, smoke-filled dining room.
 
 EFFECTS OF ISOLATION 
 
 February 14th. 
 
 I HAD a rather grim talk with Meshtcheriakov at 
 dinner. He is an old Siberian exile, who visited 
 England last summer. He is editing a monthly 
 magazine in Moscow, mostly concerned with the 
 problems of reconstruction, and besides that doing 
 a lot of educational work among the labouring 
 classes. He is horrified at the economic position 
 of the country. Isolation, he thinks, is forcing 
 Russia backwards towards a primeval state. 
 
 "We simply cannot get things. For example, I 
 am lecturing on mathematics. I have more pupils 
 than I can deal with. They are as greedy for 
 knowledge as sponges for water, and I cannot get 
 even the simplest text-books for them. I cannot 
 even find in the second-hand book stores an old 
 Course of Mathematics from which I could myself 
 make a series of copies for them. I have to teach 
 
 85
 
 like a teacher of the middle ages. But, like him, 
 I have pupils who want to learn." 
 
 "In another three years," said some one else at 
 the table, "we shall be living in ruins. Houses 
 in Moscow were always kept well warmed. Lack 
 of transport has brought with it lack of fuel, and 
 water-pipes have burst in thousands of houses. 
 We cannot get what is needed to mend them. In 
 the same way we cannot get paints for the walls, 
 which are accordingly rotting. In another three 
 years we shall have all the buildings of Moscow 
 tumbling about our ears." 
 
 Some one else joined in with a laugh: "In 
 ten years we shall be running about on all fours." 
 
 "And in twenty we shall begin sprouting tails." 
 
 Meshtcheriakov finished his soup and laid down 
 his wooden spoon. 
 
 "There is another side to all these things," he 
 said. "In Russia, even if the blockade lasts, we 
 shall get things established again sooner than any- 
 where else, because we have all the raw materials 
 in our own country. With us it is a question of 
 transport only, and of transport within our own 
 borders. In a few years, I am convinced, in spite 
 
 86
 
 of all that is working against us, Russia will be a 
 better place to live in than anywhere else in Eu- 
 rope. But we have a bad time to go through. 
 And not we alone. The effects of the war are 
 scarcely visible as yet in the west, but they will 
 become visible. Humanity has a period of tor- 
 ment before it. . . ." 
 
 "Bucharin says fifty years," I said, referring 
 to my talk of yesterday. 
 
 "Maybe. I think less than that. But the 
 revolution will be far worse for you nations of the 
 west than it has been for us. In the west, if there 
 is revolution, they will use artillery at once, and 
 wipe out whole districts. The governing classes 
 in the west are determined and organized in a way 
 our home-grown capitalists never were. The 
 Autocracy never allowed them to organize, so, 
 when the Autocracy itself fell, our task was com- 
 paratively easy. There was nothing in the way. 
 It will not be like that in Germany."
 
 AN EVENING AT THE OPERA 
 
 I READ in one of the newspapers that a member of 
 the American Commission in Berlin reasoned from 
 the fact that the Germans were crowding to thea- 
 tres and spectacles that they could not be hungry. 
 There can be no question about the hunger of the 
 people of Moscow, but the theatres are crowded, 
 and there is such demand for seats that speculators 
 acquire tickets in the legitimate way and sell them 
 illicitly near the doors of the theatre to people who 
 have not been able to get in, charging, of course, 
 double the price or even more. Interest in the 
 theatre, always keen in Moscow, seems to me to 
 have rather increased than decreased. There is a 
 School of Theatrical Production, with lectures on 
 every subject connected with the stage, from stage 
 carpentry upwards. A Theatrical Bulletin is pub- 
 lished three times weekly, containing the pro- 
 grammes of all the theatres and occasional articles
 
 on theatrical subjects. I had been told in Stock- 
 holm that the Moscow theatres were closed. The 
 following is an incomplete list of the plays and 
 spectacles to be seen at various theatres on Feb- 
 ruary 13 and February 14, copied from the Theat- 
 rical Bulletin of those dates. Just as it would be 
 interesting to know what French audiences en- 
 joyed at the time of the French revolution, so I 
 think it worth while to record the character of 
 the entertainments at present popular in Moscow. 
 
 Opera at the Great Theatre. "Sadko" by Rim- 
 
 sky-Korsakov and "Samson and Delilah" by 
 
 Saint-Saens. 
 Small State Theatre. "Besheny Dengi" by Os- 
 
 trovsky and "Starik" by Gorky. 
 Moscow Art Theatre. 'The Cricket on the 
 
 Hearth" by Dickens and "The Death of Pa- 
 
 zuchin" by Saltykov-Shtche'drin. 
 Opera. "Selo Stepantchiko" and "Coppelia." 
 People's Palace. "Dubrovsky" by Napravnik 
 
 and "Demon" by Rubinstein. 
 Zamoskvoretzky Theatre. "Groza" by Ostrovsky 
 
 and "Meshtchane" by Gorky.
 
 Popular Theatre. "The Miracle of Saint An- 
 thony" by Maeterlinck. 
 Komissarzhevskaya Theatre. "A Christmas 
 
 Carol" by Dickens and "The Accursed 
 
 Prince" by Remizov. 
 Korsh Theatre. "Much Ado about Nothing" by 
 
 Shakespeare and "Le Misanthrope" and 
 
 "Georges Dandin" by Moliere. 
 Dramatic Theatre. "Alexander I" by Merezh- 
 
 kovsky. 
 Theatre of Drama and Comedy. "Little Dorrit" 
 
 by Dickens and "The King's Barber" by Lu- 
 
 nacharsky. 
 
 Besides these, other theatres were playing K. R. 
 (Konstantin Romanov), Ostrovsky, Potapenko, 
 Vinitchenko, etc. The two Studios of the Mos- 
 cow Art Theatre were playing "Rosmersholm" and 
 a repertoire of short plays. They, like the Art 
 Theatre Company, occasionally play in the subur- 
 ban theatres when their place at home is taken by 
 other performers. 
 
 I went to the Great State Theatre to Saint- 
 Saens' "Samson and Delilah." I had a seat in the 
 
 90
 
 box close above the orchestra, from which I could 
 
 obtain a view equally good of the stage and of the 
 
 house. Indeed, the view was rather better of the 
 
 house than of the stage. But that was as I had 
 
 wished, for the house was what I had come to see. 
 
 It had certainly changed greatly since the pre- 
 
 revolutionary period. The Moscow plutocracy of 
 
 bald merchants and bejewelled fat wives had gone. 
 
 Gone with them were evening dresses and white 
 
 shirt fronts. The whole audience was in the 
 
 monotone of everyday clothes. The only contrast 
 
 was given by a small group of Tartar women in 
 
 the dress circle, who were shawled in white over 
 
 head and shoulders, in the Tartar fashion. There 
 
 were many soldiers, and numbers of men who had 
 
 obviously come straight from their work. There 
 
 were a good many grey and brown woollen jerseys 
 
 about, and people were sitting in overcoats of all 
 
 kinds and ages, for the theatre was very cold. 
 
 (This, of course, was due to lack of fuel, which 
 
 may in the long run lead to a temporary stoppage 
 
 of the theatres if electricity cannot be spared for 
 
 lighting them.) The orchestra was also variously 
 
 dressed. Most of the players of brass instruments 
 
 91
 
 had evidently been in regimental bands during the 
 war, and still retained their khaki-green tunics 
 with a very mixed collection of trousers and 
 breeches. Others were in every kind of everyday 
 clothes. The conductor alone wore a frock coat, 
 and sat in his place like a specimen from another 
 age, isolated in fact by his smartness alike from 
 his ragged orchestra and from the stalls behind 
 him. 
 
 I looked carefully to see the sort of people who 
 fill the stalls under the new regime, and decided 
 that there has been a general transfer of brains 
 from the gallery to the floor of the house. The 
 same people who in the old days scraped kopecks 
 and waited to get a good place near the ceiling now 
 sat where formerly were the people who came here 
 to digest their dinners. Looking from face to face 
 that night I thought there were very few people in 
 the theatre who had had anything like a good 
 dinner to digest. But, as for their keenness, I 
 can imagine few audiences to which, from the 
 actor's point of view, it would be better worth 
 while to play. Applause, like brains, had come 
 down from the galleries. 
 
 92
 
 Of the actual performance I have little to say 
 except that ragged clothes and empty stomachs 
 seemed to make very little difference to the orches- 
 tra. Helzer, the ballerina, danced as well before 
 this audience as ever before the bourgeoisie. As I 
 turned up the collar of my coat I reflected that the 
 actors deserved all the applause they got for their 
 heroism in playing in such cold. Now and then 
 during the evening I was unusually conscious of 
 the unreality of opera generally, perhaps because 
 of the contrast in magnificence between the stage 
 and the shabby, intelligent audience. Now and 
 then, on the other hand, stage and audience seemed 
 one and indivisible. For "Samson and Delilah" 
 is itself a poem of revolution, and gained enor- 
 mously by being played by people every one of 
 whom had seen something of the sort in real life. 
 Samson's stirring up of the Israelites reminded me 
 of many scenes in Petrograd in 1917, and when, at 
 last, he brings the temple down in ruins on his tri- 
 umphant enemies, I was reminded of the words at- 
 tributed to Trotsky : "If we are, in the end, forced 
 to go, we shall slam the door behind us in such a way 
 that the echo shall be felt throughout the world." 
 
 93
 
 Going home afterwards through the snow, I did 
 not see a single armed man. A year ago the streets 
 were deserted after ten in the evening except by 
 those who, like myself, had work which took them 
 to meetings and such things late at night. They 
 used to be empty except for the military pickets 
 round their log-fires. Now they were full of foot- 
 passengers going home from the theatres, utterly 
 forgetful of the fact that only twelve months be- 
 fore they had thought the streets of Moscow un- 
 safe after dark. There could be no question about 
 it. The revolution is settling down, and people 
 now think of other matters than the old question, 
 will it last one week or two*? 
 
 94
 
 THE COMMITTEE OF STATE 
 CONSTRUCTIONS 
 
 February 15th. 
 
 I WENT by appointment to see Pavlovitch, Presi- 
 dent of the Committee of State Constructions. It 
 was a very jolly morning and the streets were 
 crowded. As I walked through the gate into the 
 Red Square I saw the usual crowd of peasant 
 women at the little chapel of the Iberian Virgin, 
 where there was a blaze of candles. On the wall 
 of what used, I think, to be the old town hall, close 
 by the gate, some fanatic agnostic has set a white 
 inscription on a tablet, "Religion is opium for the 
 People." The tablet, which has been there a long 
 time, is in shape not unlike the customary frame 
 for a sacred picture. I saw an old peasant, evi- 
 dently unable to read, cross himself solemnly be- 
 fore the chapel, and then, turning to the left, cross 
 himself as solemnly before this anti-religious in- 
 
 95
 
 scription. It is perhaps worth while to remark in 
 passing that the new Communist programme, while 
 insisting, as before, on the definite separation of 
 church and state, and church and school, now in- 
 cludes the particular statement that "care should 
 be taken in no way to hurt the feelings of the re- 
 ligious." Churches and chapels are open, church 
 processions take place as before, and Moscow, as 
 in the old days, is still a city of church bells. 
 
 A long line of sledges with welcome bags of 
 flour was passing through the square. Soldiers of 
 the Red Army were coming off parade, laughing 
 and talking, and very noticeably smarter than the 
 men of six months ago. There was a bright clear 
 sky behind the fantastic Cathedral of St. Basil, 
 and the rough graves under the Kremlin wall, 
 where those are buried who died in the fighting at 
 the time of the November Revolution, have been 
 tidied up. There was scaffolding round the gate 
 of the Kremlin which was damaged at that time 
 and is being carefully repaired. 
 
 The Committee of State Constructions was 
 founded last spring to co-ordinate the manage- 
 ment of the various engineering and other con- 
 
 96
 
 structive works previously carried on by independ- 
 ent departments. It became an independent or- 
 gan with its own finances about the middle of 
 the summer. Its headquarters are in the Nikol- 
 skaya, in the Chinese town, next door to the old 
 building of the Anglo-Russian Trading Company, 
 which still bears the Lion and the Unicorn sculp- 
 tured above its green and white fagade some time 
 early in the seventeenth century. 
 
 Pavlovitch is a little, fat, spectacled man with 
 a bald head, fringed with the remains of red hair, 
 and a little reddish beard. He was dressed in a 
 black leather coat and trousers. He complained 
 bitterly that all his plans for engineering works 
 to improve the productive possibilities of the coun- 
 try were made impracticable by the imperious de- 
 mands of war. As an old Siberian exile he had 
 been living in France before the revolution and, 
 as he said, had seen there how France made war. 
 "They sent her locomotives, and rails for the loco- 
 motives to run on, everything she needed they sent 
 her from all parts of the world. When they sent 
 horses, they sent also hay for their food, and shoes 
 for their feet, and even nails for the shoes. If we 
 
 97
 
 were supplied like that, Russia would be at peace 
 in a week. But we have nothing, and can get 
 nothing, and are forced to be at war against our 
 will. 
 
 "And war spoils everything," he continued. 
 "This committee should be at work on affairs of 
 peace, making Russia more useful to herself and 
 to the rest of the world. You know our plans. 
 But with fighting on all our fronts, and with all 
 our best men away, we are compelled to use ninety 
 per cent, of our energy and material for the imme- 
 diate needs of the army. Every day we get 
 masses of telegrams from all fronts, asking for 
 this or that. For example, Trotsky telegraphs 
 here simply "We shall be in Orenburg in two 
 days," leaving us to do what is necessary. Then 
 with the map before me, I have to send what will 
 be needed, no matter what useful work has to be 
 abandoned meanwhile, engineers, railway gangs 
 for putting right the railways, material for bridges, 
 and so on. 
 
 "Indeed, the biggest piece of civil engineering 
 done in Russia for many years was the direct result 
 of our fear lest you people or the Germans should
 
 take our Baltic fleet. Save the dreadnoughts we 
 could not, but I decided to save what we could. 
 The widening and deepening of the canal system 
 so as to shift boats from the Baltic to the Volga 
 had been considered in the time of the Tzar. It 
 was considered and dismissed as impracticable. 
 Once, indeed, they did try to take two torpedo- 
 boats over, and they lifted them on barges to 
 make the attempt. Well, we said that as the 
 thing could be planned, it could be done, and the 
 canals are deepened and widened, and we took 
 through them, under their own power, seven big 
 destroyers, six small destroyers and four submarine 
 boats, which, arriving unexpectedly before Kazan, 
 played a great part in our victory there. But the 
 pleasure of that was spoilt for me by the knowl- 
 edge that I had had to take men and material from 
 the building of the electric power station, with 
 which we hope to make Petrograd independent of 
 the coal supply. 
 
 "The difficulties we have to fight against are, of 
 course, enormous, but much of what the old regime 
 failed to do, for want of initiative or for other 
 reasons, we have done and are doing. Some of 
 
 99
 
 the difficulties are of a most unexpected kind. 
 The local inhabitants, partly, no doubt, under the 
 influence of our political opponents, were ex- 
 tremely hostile with regard to the building of the 
 power station, simply because they did not under- 
 stand it. I went there myself, and explained to 
 them what it would mean, that their river would 
 become a rich river, that they would be able to get 
 cheap power for all sorts of works, and that they 
 would have electric light in all their houses. 
 Then they carried me shoulder high through the 
 village, and sent telegrams to Lenin, to Zino- 
 viev, to everybody they could think of, and 
 since then we have had nothing but help from 
 them. 
 
 "Most of our energy at present has to be spent 
 on mending and making railways and roads for 
 the use of the army. Over 1 1,000 versts of rail- 
 way are under construction, and we have finished 
 the railway from Arzamas to Shikhran. Twelve 
 hundred versts of highroad are under construction. 
 And to meet the immediate needs of the army we 
 have already repaired or made 8,000 versts of 
 roads of various kinds. As a matter of fact the 
 
 100
 
 internal railway net of Russia is by no means as 
 bad as people make out. By its means, hampered 
 as we are, we have been able to beat the counter- 
 revolutionaries, concentrating our best troops, now 
 here, now there, wherever need may be. Remem- 
 ber that the whole way round our enormous fron- 
 tiers we are being forced to fight groups of reac- 
 tionaries supported at first mostly by the Germans, 
 now mostly by yourselves, by the Roumanians, by 
 the Poles, and in some districts by the Germans 
 still. Troops fighting on the Ural front are fight- 
 ing a month later south of Voronezh, and a month 
 later again are having a holiday, marching on the 
 heels of the Germans as they evacuate the occu- 
 pied provinces. Some of our troops are not yet 
 much good. One day they fight, and the next they 
 think they would rather not. So that our best 
 troops, those in which there are most workmen, 
 have to be flung in all directions. We are at work 
 all the time enabling this to be done, and making 
 new roads to enable it to be done still better. 
 But what waste, when there are so many other 
 things we want to do ! 
 
 "All the time the needs of war are pressing on 
 101
 
 us. To-day is the first day for two months that 
 we have been able to warm this building. We 
 have been working here in overcoats and fur hats 
 in a temperature below freezing point. Why*? 
 Wood was already on its way to us, when we had 
 suddenly to throw troops northwards. Our wood 
 had to be flung out of the wagons,. and the Red 
 Army put in its place, and the wagons sent north 
 again. The thing had to be done, and we have 
 had to work as best we could in the cold. Many 
 of my assistants have fallen ill. Two only 
 yesterday had to be taken home in a condition 
 something like that of a fit, the result of prolonged 
 sedentary work in unheated rooms. I have lost 
 the use of my right hand for the same reason." 
 He stretched out his right hand, which he had been 
 keeping in the pocket of his coat. It was an ugly 
 sight, with swollen, immovable fingers, like the 
 roots of a vegetable. 
 
 At this moment some one came in to speak to 
 Pavlovitch. He stood at the table a little behind 
 me, so that I did not see him, but Pavlovitch, 
 noticing that he looked curiously at me, said, "Are 
 you acquaintances?" I looked round and saw 
 
 102
 
 Sukhanov, Gorky's friend, formerly one of the 
 cleverest Writers on the Novaya Jizn. I jumped 
 up and shook hands with him. 
 
 "What, have you gone over to the Bolsheviks'?" 
 I asked. 
 
 "Not at all," said Sukhanov, smiling, "but I 
 am working here." 
 
 "Sukhanov thinks that we do less harm than 
 anybody else," said Pavlovitch, and laughed. 
 "Go and talk to him and he'll tell you all there is 
 to be said against us. And there's lots to say." 
 
 Sukhanov was an extremely bitter enemy of the 
 Bolsheviks, and was very angry with me when, 
 over a year ago, I told him I was convinced that 
 sooner or later he would be working with them. 
 I told Pavlovitch the story, and he laughed again. 
 "A long time ago," he said, "Sukhanov made 
 overtures to me through Miliutin. I agreed, and 
 everything was settled, but when a note appeared 
 in Pravda to say that he was going to work in 
 this Committee, he grew shy, and wrote a contra- 
 diction. Miliutin was very angry and asked me 
 to publish the truth. I refused, but wrote on 
 that day in my diary, 'Sukhanov will come.' 
 
 103
 
 Three months later he was already working with 
 us. One day he told me that in the big diary of 
 the revolution which he is writing, and will write 
 very well, he had some special abuse for me. 'I 
 have none for you,' I said, 'but I will show you 
 one page of my own diary,' and I showed him 
 that page, and asked him to look at the date. 
 Sukhanov is an honest fellow, and was bound to 
 come." 
 
 He went on with his talk. 
 
 "You know, hampered as we are by lack of 
 everything, we could not put up the fight we are 
 putting up against the reactionaries if it were not 
 for the real revolutionary spirit of the people as 
 a whole. The reactionaries have money, muni- 
 tions, supplies of all kinds, instructors, from out- 
 side. We have nothing, and yet we beat them. 
 Do you know that the English have given them 
 tanks? Have you heard that in one place they 
 used gases or something of the kind, and blinded 
 eight hundred men? And yet we win. Why"? 
 Because from every town we capture we get new 
 strength. And any town they tal^e is a source of 
 weakness to them, one more town to garrison 
 
 104
 
 and hold against the wishes of the population." 
 "And if you do get peace, what then 4 ?" 
 "We want from abroad all that we cannot make 
 ourselves. We want a hundred thousand versts 
 of rails. Now we have to take up rails in one 
 place to lay them in another. We want new rail- 
 ways built. We want dredgers for our canals and 
 river works. We want excavators." 
 
 "And how do you expect people to sell you these 
 things when your foreign credit is not worth a 
 farthing?" 
 
 "We shall pay in concessions, giving foreigners 
 the right to take raw materials. 'Timber, actual 
 timber, is as good as credit^. We have huge areas 
 of forest in the north, and every country in Eu- 
 rope needs timber. Let that be our currency for 
 foreign purchases. We are prepared to say, 'You 
 build this, or give us that, and we will give you 
 the right to take so much timber for yourselves.' 
 And so on. And concessions of other kinds also. 
 As a matter of fact negotiations are now proceed- 
 ing with a foreign firm for the building of a rail- 
 way from the Obi to Kotlas." 
 
 "But part of that district is not in your hands." 
 105
 
 "If we get peace we shall be able to arrange 
 that without difficulty." 
 
 Just as I was going he stopped me, and evi- 
 dently not in the least realizing that English peo- 
 ple generally have come to think of him and his 
 friends as of some strange sort of devils, if not 
 with horns and tails, certainly far removed from 
 human beings, he asked: "If we do get peace, 
 don't you think there will be engineers and skilled 
 labourers in England who will volunteer to come 
 out to Russia and help us"? There is so much to 
 do that I can promise they will have the best we 
 can give them. We are almost as short of skilled 
 men as we are of locomotives. We are now taking 
 simple unskilled workmen who show any signs of 
 brains and training them as we go along. There 
 must be engineers, railwaymen, mechanics among 
 English socialists who would be glad to come. 
 And of course they need not be socialists, so long 
 as they are good engineers." 
 
 That last suggestion of his is entirely character- 
 istic. It is impossible to make the Bolsheviks 
 realize that the English people feel any hostility 
 towards them. Nor do they feel hostility towards 
 
 106
 
 the English as such. On my way back to the 
 hotel I met a party of English soldiers, taken 
 prisoners on the northern front, walking free, with- 
 out a convoy, through the streets. 
 
 107
 
 THE EXECUTIVE COMMITTEE AND 
 THE TERROR 
 
 February 
 
 MY general impression that the Soviet revolution 
 has passed through its period of internal struggle 
 and is concentrating upon constructive work so 
 far as that is allowed by war on all its frontiers, 
 and that the population is settling down under the 
 new regime, was confirmed by the meeting of the 
 Executive Committee which definitely limited the 
 powers of the Extraordinary Commission. Be- 
 fore the sitting was opened I had a few words with 
 Peters and with Krylenko. The excitement of 
 the internal struggle was over. It had been bit- 
 terly fought within the party, and both Krylenko 
 of the Revolutionary Tribunal and Peters of the 
 Extraordinary Commission were there merely to 
 witness the official act that would define their new 
 position. Peters talked of his failure to get away 
 
 108
 
 for some shooting; Krylenko jeered at me for 
 having refused to believe in the Lockhart con- 
 spiracy. Neither showed any traces of the bitter 
 struggle waged within the party for and against 
 the almost dictatorial powers of the Extraordinary 
 Commission for dealing with counter-revolu- 
 tion. 
 
 The sitting opened with a report by Dserzhin- 
 sky, that strange ascetic who, when in prison in 
 Warsaw, insisted on doing the dirty work of 
 emptying the slops and cleaning other people's 
 cells besides his own, on a theory that one man 
 should where possible take upon himself the evil 
 which would otherwise have to be shared by all; 
 and in the dangerous beginning of the revolution 
 had taken upon himself the most unpopular of all 
 posts, that of President of the Extraordinary 
 Commission. His personal uprightness is the 
 complement of an absolute personal courage, 
 shown again and again during the last eighteen 
 months. At the time of the Left Social Revolu- 
 tionary mutiny he went without a guard to the 
 headquarters of the mutineers, believing that he 
 could bring them to reason, and when arrested by 
 
 109
 
 them dared them to shoot him and showed so bold 
 a front that in the end the soldiers set to watch 
 him set him free and returned to their allegiance. 
 This thin, tallish man, with a fanatic face not un- 
 like some of the traditional portraits of St. Francis, 
 the terror of counter-revolutionaries and criminals 
 alike, is a very bad speaker. He looks into the 
 air over the heads of his audience and talks as if 
 he were not addressing them at all but some one 
 else unseen. He talks even of a subject which he 
 knows perfectly with curious inability to form his 
 sentences ; stops, changes words, and often, recog- 
 nizing that he cannot finish his sentence, ends 
 where he is, in the middle of it, with a little odd, 
 deprecating emphasis, as if to say : "At this point 
 there is a full stop. At least so it seems." 
 
 He gave a short colourless sketch of the history 
 of the Extraordinary Commission. He referred 
 to the various crises with which it had had to deal, 
 beginning with the drunken pogroms in Petrograd, 
 the suppression of the combined anarchists and 
 criminals in Moscow (he mentioned that after that 
 four hours' struggle which ended in the clearing 
 out of the anarchists' strongholds, criminality in 
 
 110
 
 Moscow decreased by 80 per cent.), to the days 
 of the Terror when, now here, now there, armed 
 risings against the Soviet were engineered by for- 
 eigners and by counter-revolutionaries working 
 with them. He then made the point that through- 
 out all this time the revolution had been threat- 
 ened by large-scale revolts. Now the revolution 
 was safe from such things and was threatened only 
 by individual treacheries of various kinds, not by 
 things which needed action on a large scale. They 
 had traitors, no doubt, in the Soviet institutions 
 who were waiting for the day (which would never 
 come) to join with their enemies, and meanwhile 
 were secretly hampering their work. They did 
 not need on that account to destroy their institu- 
 tions as a whole. The struggle with counter- 
 revolution had passed to a new stage. They no 
 longer had to do open battle with open enemies; 
 they had merely to guard themselves against indi- 
 viduals. The laws of war by which, meeting him 
 on the field of battle, the soldier had a right to 
 kill his enemy without trial, no longer held good. 
 The situation was now that of peace, where each 
 offender must have his guilt proved before a 
 
 111
 
 court. Therefore the right of sentencing was re- 
 moved from the Extraordinary Commission; but 
 if, through unforeseen circumstances, the old con- 
 ditions should return, they intended that the dic- 
 tatorial powers of the Commission should be re- 
 stored to it until those conditions had ceased. 
 Thus if, in case of armed counter-revolution, a dis- 
 trict were declared to be in a state of war, the 
 Extraordinary Commission would resume its old 
 powers. Otherwise its business would be to hand 
 offenders, such as Soviet officials who were habit- 
 ually late (here there was a laugh, the only sign 
 throughout his speech that Dserzhinsky was hold- 
 ing the attention of his audience), over to the 
 Revolutionary Tribunal, which would try them 
 and, should their guilt be proved, put them in 
 concentration camps to learn to work. He read 
 point by point the resolutions establishing these 
 changes and providing for the formation of Revo- 
 lutionary Tribunals. Trial to take place within 
 forty-eight hours after the conclusion of the inves- 
 tigation, and the investigation to take not longer 
 than a month. He ended as he ended his sen- 
 tences, as if by accident, and people scarcely real- 
 
 112
 
 ized he had finished before Sverdlov announced 
 the next speaker. 
 
 Krylenko proposed an amendment to ensure 
 that no member of the Revolutionary Tribunal 
 could be also a member of the Extraordinary 
 Commission which had taken up and investigated 
 a case. His speech was very disappointing. He 
 is not at his best when addressing a serious meet- 
 ing like that of the Executive Committee. The 
 Krylenko who spoke to-night, fluently, clearly, but 
 without particular art, is a very different Krylenko 
 from the virtuoso in mob oratory, the little, dan- 
 gerous, elderly man in ensign's uniform who 
 swayed the soldiers' mass meetings in Petrograd a 
 year and a half ago. I remember hearing him 
 speak in barracks soon after the murder of Shin- 
 garev and Kokoshkin, urging class struggle and at 
 the same time explaining the difference between 
 that and the murder of sick men in bed. He re- 
 ferred to the murder and, while continuing his 
 speech, talking already of another subject, he went 
 through the actions of a man approaching a bed 
 and killing a sleeper with a pistol. It was a trick, 
 of course, but the thrilling, horrible effect of it
 
 moved the whole audience with a shudder of dis- 
 gust. There was nothing of this kind in his short 
 lecture on jurisprudence to-night. 
 
 Avanesov, the tall, dark secretary of the Execu- 
 tive Committee, with the face of a big, benevolent 
 hawk hooded in long black hair, opposed Krylenko 
 on the ground that there were not enough trust- 
 worthy workers to ensure that in country districts 
 such a provision could be carried out. Finally 
 the resolution was passed as a whole and the 
 amendment was referred to the judgment of the 
 prsesidium. 
 
 The Committee next passed to the consideration 
 of the Extraordinary Tax levied on the propertied 
 classes. Krestinsky, Commissary of Finance, 
 made his report to a grim audience, many of whom 
 quite frankly regarded the tax as a political mis- 
 take. Krestinsky is a short, humorous man, in 
 dark spectacles, dressed more like a banker than 
 like a Bolshevik. It was clear that the collection 
 of the tax had not been as successful as he had 
 previously suggested. I was interested in his ref- 
 erence to the double purpose of the tax and in the 
 reasons he gave for its comparative failure. The 
 
 114
 
 tax had a fiscal purpose, partly to cover deficit, 
 partly by drawing in paper money to raise the 
 value of the rouble. It had also a political pur- 
 pose. It was intended to affect the propertied 
 classes only, and thus to weaken the Kulaks (hard- 
 fists, rich peasants) in the villages and to teach the 
 poorer peasants the meaning of the revolution. 
 Unfortunately some Soviets, where the minority of 
 the Kulaks had retained the unfair domination 
 given it by its economic strength, had distributed 
 the tax-paying equally over the whole population, 
 thus very naturally raising the resentment of the 
 poor who found themselves taxed to the same 
 amount as those who could afford to pay. It had 
 been necessary to send circular telegrams empha- 
 sizing the terms of the decree. In cases where the 
 taxation had been carried out as intended there 
 had been no difficulty. The most significant rea- 
 son for the partial unsuccess was that the proper- 
 tied class, as such, had already diminished to a 
 greater extent than had been supposed, and many 
 of those taxed, for example, as factory owners were 
 already working, not as factory owners, but as paid 
 directors in nationalized factories, and were there-
 
 fore no longer subject to the tax. In other words, 
 the partial failure of the tax was a proof of the 
 successful development of the revolution. (This 
 is illustrated by the concrete case of "Uncle" re- 
 corded on p. 73.) Krestinsky believed that the 
 revolution had gone so far that no further tax of 
 this kind would be either possible or necessary. 
 
 116
 
 NOTES OF CONVERSATIONS WITH 
 LENIN 
 
 WHATEVER else they may think of him, not even 
 his enemies deny that Vladimir Ilyitch Oulianov 
 (Lenin) is one of the greatest personalities of his 
 time. I therefore make no apology for writing 
 down such scraps of his conversation as seem to 
 me to illustrate his manner of mind. 
 
 He was talking of the lack of thinkers in the 
 English labour movement, and said he remembered 
 hearing Shaw speak at some meeting. Shaw, he 
 said, was "A good man fallen among Fabians" 
 and a great deal further left than his company. 
 He had not heard of "The Perfect Wagnerite," 
 but was interested when I told him the general 
 idea of the book, and turned fiercely on an inter- 
 rupter who said that Shaw was a clown. "He 
 may be a clown for the. bourgeoisie in a bourgeois 
 state, but they would not think him a clown in a 
 revolution." 
 
 117
 
 He asked whether Sidney Webb was consciously 
 working in the interests of the capitalists, and 
 when I said I was quite sure that he was not, he 
 said, "Then he has more industry than brains. 
 He certainly has great knowledge." 
 
 He was entirely convinced that England was 
 on the eve of revolution, and pooh-poohed my 
 objections. "Three months ago I thought it 
 would end in all the world having to fight the 
 centre of reaction in England. But I do not think 
 so now. Things have gone further there than in 
 France, if the news as to the extent of the strikes 
 is true." 
 
 I pointed out some of the circumstances, geo- 
 graphical and economical, which would make the 
 success of a violent revolution in England proble- 
 matical in the extreme, and put to him the same 
 suggestion that I put to Bucharin (see page 81), 
 namely, that a suppressed movement in England 
 would be worse for Russia than our traditional 
 method of compromise. He agreed at once, but 
 said, "That is quite true, -but you cannot stop a 
 revolution . . . although Ramsay MacDonald 
 will try to at the last minute. Strikes and Soviets.
 
 If these two habits once get hold, nothing will 
 keep the workmen from them. And Soviets, once 
 started, must sooner or later come to supreme 
 power." Then, "But certainly it would be much 
 more difficult in England. Your big clerk and 
 shop-keeping class would oppose it, until the work- 
 men broke them. Russia was indeed the only 
 country in which the revolution could start. And 
 we are not yet through our troubles with the peas- 
 antry." 
 
 I suggested that one reason why it had been pos- 
 sible in Russia was that they had had room to 
 retreat. 
 
 "Yes," he said. "The distances saved us. 
 The Germans were frightened of them, at the time 
 when they could indeed have eaten us up, and won 
 peace, which the Allies would have given them 
 in gratitude for our destruction. A revolution in 
 England would have nowhere whither to retire." 
 
 Of the Soviets he said, "In the beginning I 
 thought they were and would remain a purely 
 Russian form; but it is now quire clear that un- 
 der various names they must be the instruments 
 of revolution everywhere."
 
 He expressed the opinion that in England they 
 would not allow me to tell the truth about Russia, 
 and gave as an example the way in which Colonel 
 Robins had been kept silent in America. He 
 asked about Robins, "Had he really been as 
 friendly to the Soviet Government as he made 
 out 1 ?" I said, "Yes, if only as a sportsman ad- 
 miring its pluck and courage in difficulties." I 
 quoted Robins' saying, "I can't go against a baby 
 I have sat up with for six months. But if there 
 were a Bolshevik movement in America I'd be 
 out with my rifle to fight it every time." "Now 
 that," said Lenin, "is an honest man and more 
 far-seeing than most. I always liked that man." 
 He shook with laughter at the image of the baby, 
 and said, "That baby had several million other 
 folk sitting up with it too." 
 
 He said he had read in an English socialist paper 
 a comparison of his own theories with those of an 
 American, Daniel De Leon. He had then bor- 
 rowed some of De Leon's pamphlets from Rein- 
 stein (who belongs to the party which De Leon 
 founded in America), read them for the first time, 
 and was amazed to see how far and how early De 
 
 120
 
 Leon had pursued the same train of thought as the 
 Russians. His theory that representation should 
 be by industries, not by areas, was already the 
 germ of the Soviet system. He remembered see- 
 ing De Leon at an International Conference. De 
 Leon made no impression at all, a grey old man, 
 quite unable to speak to such an audience: but 
 evidently a much bigger man than he looked, 
 since his pamphlets were written before the ex- 
 perience of the Russian Revolution of 1905. 
 Some days afterwards I noticed that Lenin had 
 introduced a few phrases of De Leon, as if to do 
 honour to his memory, into the draft for the new 
 programme of the Communist party. 
 
 Talking of the lies that are told about Russia, 
 he said it was interesting to notice that they were 
 mostly perversions of truth and not pure inven- 
 tions, and gave as an example the recent story 
 that he had recanted. "Do you know the origin 
 of that?" he said. "I was wishing a happy New 
 Year to a friend over the telephone, and said 
 'And may we commit fewer stupidities this year 
 than last !' Some one overheard it and told some 
 one else. A newspaper announced 'Lenin says we 
 
 121
 
 are committing stupidities' and so the story 
 started." 
 
 More than ever, Lenin struck me as a happy 
 man. Walking home from the Kremlin, I tried 
 to think of any other man of his calibre who had 
 had a similar joyous temperament. I could think 
 of none. This little, bald-headed, wrinkled man, 
 who tilts his chair this way and that, laughing 
 over one thing or another, ready any minute to 
 give serious advice to any who interrupt him to 
 ask for it, advice so well reasoned that it is to his 
 followers far more compelling than any command, 
 every one of his wrinkles is a wrinkle of laughter, 
 not of worry. I think the reason must be that he 
 is the first great leader who utterly discounts the 
 value of his own personality. He is quite without 
 personal ambition. More than that, he believes, 
 as a Marxist, in the movement of the masses which, 
 with or without him, would still move. His 
 whole faith is in the elemental forces that move 
 people, his faith in himself is merely his belief 
 that he justly estimates the direction of those 
 forces. He does not believe that any man could 
 
 122
 
 make or stop the revolution which he thinks inevi- 
 table. If the Russian revolution fails, according 
 to him, it fails only temporarily, and because of 
 forces beyond any man's control. He is conse- 
 quently free with a freedom no other great man 
 has ever had. It is not so much what he says 
 that inspires confidence in him. It is this sen- 
 sible freedom, this obvious detachment. With 
 his philosophy he cannot for a moment believe 
 that one man's mistake might ruin all. He is, 
 for himself at any rate, the exponent, not the 
 cause, of the events that will be for ever linked 
 with his name. 
 
 123
 
 THE SUPREME COUNCIL OF PUBLIC 
 ECONOMY 
 
 February 2oth. 
 
 TO-DAY was an unlucky day. I felt tired, ill 
 and hungry, and had arranged to talk with both 
 Rykov, the President of the Supreme Council of 
 People's Economy, and Krestinsky, the Commissar 
 of Finance, at such awkward times that I got no 
 tea and could get nothing to eat until after four 
 o'clock. Two such talks on an empty stomach 
 (for the day before I had had only a plate of 
 soup and a little scrap of fish) were a little too 
 much for me, and I fear I did not gather as much 
 information as I should have collected under bet- 
 ter conditions. 
 
 I had a jolly drive, early in the morning, 
 through the Chinese Town, and out by the gate 
 in the old wall, up Myasnitzkaya Street, and 
 round to the right to a building that used to be 
 
 124
 
 the Grand Hotel of Siberia, a loathsome place 
 where I once stayed. Here in the old days pro- 
 vincial merchants put up, who did not mind high 
 prices and a superfluity of bugs. It has now been 
 turned into a hive of office work, and is the head- 
 quarters of the Supreme Council of Public Econ- 
 omy, which, controlling production and distribu- 
 tion alike, is the centre of the constructive work 
 going on throughout the country. 
 
 This Council, the theorists tell me, is intended 
 to become the central organization of the state. 
 The Soviets will naturally become less and less 
 important as instruments of political transition 
 as that transition is completed and the struggle 
 against reaction within and without comes to an 
 end. Then the chief business of the state will 
 no longer be to protect itself against enemies but 
 to develop its economic life, to increase its produc- 
 tivity and to improve the material conditions of 
 the workers of whom it is composed. All these 
 tasks are those of the Supreme Council of Public 
 Economy, and as the bitterness of the struggle 
 dies away this body, which came into being almost 
 unnoticed in the din of battle, will become more 
 
 125
 
 and more important in comparison with the So- 
 viets, which were in origin not constructive organ- 
 izations but the instruments of a revolution, the 
 hardest stages of which have already been accom- 
 plished. 
 
 It is perhaps worth while to set out here the 
 constitution of this Council. It is considered at 
 present as the economic department of the Ail- 
 Russian Central Executive Committee, to which, 
 and to the Council of People's Commissaries, it is 
 responsible. It regulates all production and dis- 
 tribution. It reports on the various estimates 
 of the state budget and, in conjunction with the 
 Commissariats of Finance and State Control, car- 
 ries out the financing of all branches of public 
 economy. It consists of 69 members, and is com- 
 posed as follows: Ten representatives from the 
 All-Russian Executiye Committee, thirty from the 
 All-Russian Industrial Productive Union (a union 
 of Trade Unions), twenty from the ten District 
 Councils of Public Economy, two from the Ail- 
 Russian Council of Workers' Co-operative So- 
 cieties, and one representative each from the Com- 
 missariats of Supply, Ways of Communication, 
 
 126
 
 Labour, Agriculture, Finance, Trade and Indus- 
 try, and Internal Affairs. It meets as a whole at 
 least once in every month. The work of its mem- 
 bers is directed by a Prsesidium of nine members, 
 of which it elects eight, the President being elected 
 by the All-Russian Central Executive Commit- 
 tee, and enjoying the rank of a People's Commissar 
 or Minister. 
 
 I had a long talk with Rykov, the President, 
 or rather listened to a long lecture by him, only 
 now and then succeeding in stopping him by forc- 
 ing a question into the thread of his harangue. 
 He stammers a little, and talks so indistinctly 
 that for the first time (No. The first time was 
 when Chicherin gabbled through the provisions 
 of the Brest Treaty at the fourth All-Russian As- 
 sembly.) I felt willing to forgive normal Rus- 
 sians, who nearly always talk as if they were in 
 Petrograd and their listener in Vladivostok. 
 
 Part of what he said is embodied in what I 
 have already written. But besides sketching the 
 general aims of the Council, Rykov talked of the 
 present economic position of Russia. At the mo- 
 ment Russian industry was in peculiar difficulties 
 
 127
 
 owing to the fuel crisis. This was partly due to 
 the fact that the Czechs and the Reactionaries, 
 who had used the Czechs to screen their own 
 organization, had control of the coalfields in the 
 Urals, and partly to the fact that the German 
 occupation of the Ukraine and the activities of 
 Krasnov had cut off Soviet Russia from the Donetz 
 coal basin, which had been a main source of sup- 
 ply, although in the old days Petrograd had also 
 got coal from England. It was now, however, 
 clear that, with a friendly Ukraine, they would 
 have the use of the Donetz basin much sooner than 
 they had expected. 
 
 The Brest peace and the deprivations it in- 
 volved had made them consider the position of 
 the industrial districts from a new standpoint, 
 and they were determined to make Petrograd and 
 Moscow as far as possible independent of all fuel 
 which had to be brought from a distance. He 
 referred to the works in progress for utilizing wa- 
 ter power to provide electrical energy for the 
 Petrograd factories, and said that similar electrifi- 
 cation, on a basis of turf fuel, is planned for Mos- 
 cow. 
 
 128
 
 I asked how they were going to get the machines. 
 He said that of course they would prefer to buy 
 them abroad, but that, though this was impossible, 
 the work would not be delayed on that account, 
 since they could make a start with the machines 
 they had. Turbines for the Petrograd works they 
 still hoped to obtain from abroad when peace had 
 been arranged. If the worst came to the worst 
 he thought they could make their own. "That 
 is one unexpected result of Russia's long isolation. 
 Her dependence on imports from abroad is lessen- 
 ing." He gave an example in salt, the urgent 
 need of which has led to the opening of a new 
 industry, whose resources are such as to enable 
 Russia not only to supply herself with salt, but 
 the rest of the world as well if need should be. 
 
 I asked what were their immediate plans with 
 regard to the electrification of Moscow. He said 
 that there was no water power near Moscow but 
 big turf deposits which would be used as fuel. 
 In order not to interfere with the actual lighting 
 of the town from the power-station already in 
 existence, they are taking the electric plant from 
 the Provodnik works, which will supply enough 
 
 129
 
 electricity for the lighting of the town. As soon 
 as that is set up and working, they will use it 
 for the immediate needs of Moscow, and set about 
 transferring the existing power-station to the new 
 situation near the turf beds. In this way they 
 hope to carry out the change from coal to turf 
 without interfering with the ordinary life of the 
 town. Eventually when things settle down they 
 will get a larger plant. 
 
 I said, "Of course you have a double object in 
 this, not only to lessen the dependence of the in- 
 dustrial districts on fuel that has to be brought 
 from a distance, and of which you may be de- 
 prived, but also to lessen the strain on transport*?" 
 
 "Yes," he said. "Indeed at the present mo- 
 ment the latter is our greatest difficulty, hamper- 
 ing everything we would wish to do. And trans- 
 port we cannot put right without help from 
 abroad. Therefore we do everything we can to 
 use local resources, and are even developing the 
 coal deposits near Moscow, which are of inferior 
 quality to the Donetz coal, and were in the old 
 days purposely smothered by the Donetz coal- 
 owners, who wished to preserve their monopoly." 
 
 130
 
 I asked him if in his opinion Russia could organ- 
 ize herself without help from abroad. He said, 
 "I rather think she will have to. We want steam 
 dredgers, steam excavators, and locomotives most 
 of all, but we have small hope of getting them in 
 the immediate future, because the effects of the 
 war have been so serious in the disorganization 
 of industry in the western countries that it is 
 doubtful whether they will be in a position to 
 supply even their own needs." 
 
 While we were talking Berg, the secretary, came 
 in. I asked him how his Soviet matches were 
 progressing, and he said that the labels were being 
 printed and that the first lot would soon be ready. 
 They will be distributed on the card system, and 
 he had calculated that they could sell them at 
 twelve kopecks a packet. I paid a rouble for a 
 box of ordinary matches at Bieloostrov, and a 
 rouble and a half here.
 
 THE RACE WITH RUIN 
 
 AFTER leaving Rykov I went to see Krestinsky, 
 the Commissar of Finance, the curious little op- 
 timist whose report on the Extraordinary Tax I 
 had heard at the last meeting of the Executive 
 Committee. I found him in the Ilyinka street, 
 in the Chinese town. I began by telling him that 
 I did not believe that they meant to pay the loans. 
 He laughed and gave me precisely the answer I 
 had expected : "Of course we hope there will be 
 a revolution in other countries, in which case they 
 will repudiate their debts and forgive us ours. 
 But if that does not happen we know very well 
 that we shall have to pay, and we are prepared 
 to pay, and shall be able to pay, in concessions, 
 in raw material which they need more than they 
 need gold." 
 
 Then, being myself neither an economist nor a 
 theoretical socialist, I put before him what had 
 
 132
 
 been said to me in Stockholm by an Englishman 
 who was both one and the other; namely, that, 
 being isolated from European finance, the Soviet 
 Government of Russia was bound to come to an 
 end on economic and financial grounds alone. 
 
 He said: "That would certainly be so, if ris- 
 ing prices, rising wages, were to mean indefinitely 
 increased demands on the printing machines for 
 paper money. But, while we are at present forced 
 to print more and more money, another process 
 is at work which, in the long run, will bring this 
 state of things to an end. Just as in our dealings 
 with other countries we exchange goods instead of 
 paying in money, so within our own frontiers 
 money is ceasing to be the sole medium of ex- 
 change. Gradually the workmen are coming to 
 receive more and more in other forms than money. 
 Houses, for example, lighting and heating are 
 
 * 
 
 only a beginning. These things being state mo- 
 nopolies, the task of supplying the workman's 
 needs without the use of money is comparatively 
 easy. The chief difficulty is, of course, food sup- 
 plies, which depend on our ability to keep up an 
 exchange of goods with the villages. If we can 
 
 133
 
 supply the villages with manufactured goods, 
 they will supply us with food. You can fairly 
 say that our ruin or salvation depends on a race 
 between the decreasing value of money (with the 
 consequent need for printing notes in ever greater 
 quantities) and our growing ability to do without 
 money altogether. That is of course, a broad 
 view, and you must not for a moment suppose that 
 we expect to do without money in the immediate 
 future. I am merely showing you the two op- 
 posing tendencies on which our economic fate de- 
 pends." 
 
 I will not set down here what he said about the 
 Extraordinary Tax, for it was merely a repetition 
 of what I had heard him say in committee. In 
 connection with it, however, he admitted that 
 capitalism and profiteering were hard things to 
 root out, saying that they had great difficulty in 
 getting at what he called "the new bourgeoisie," 
 namely the speculators who have made fortunes 
 since the revolution by selling scarce food products 
 at fantastic prices. It was difficult to tax them 
 because they carried on their operations secretly 
 and it was next to impossible to find out who they 
 
 134
 
 were. They did not bank their money, and 
 though an attempt had been made to get at them 
 through the house committees, it was found that 
 even these committees were unable to detect them. 
 They will, however, be made to disgorge their 
 ill-gotten gains when the measure first proposed 
 by Sokolnikov last summer is put into practice. 
 This is a general exchange of new money for old, 
 after which the old will be declared invalid. 
 "Of course," said Krestinsky, "they will cheat in 
 every possible way, scattering out the money 
 among a number of friends and relations. But 
 something will have been done in cleaning them 
 up, and that process will be completed by a sec- 
 ond exchange of money later on." 
 
 Fifteen milliards of new notes for the first ex- 
 change are already printed, but they think that 
 twenty milliards will be necessary. 
 
 I asked if the new money was better looking 
 than the old, if it looked more like money that 
 was worth having than the wretched little notes 
 printed by the Provisional Government and scorn- 
 fully called "Kerenkies" by the populace. Kres- 
 tinsky said he was afraid not, but that the second 
 
 135 
 

 
 and final exchange would be made in notes which 
 they expected to be permanent. They did not 
 expect the notes of the first exchange to circulate 
 abroad, but the notes of the second would carry 
 with them state obligation and they expected them 
 to go into general currency. He added, smiling, 
 that the words "Proletariat of all lands, unite," 
 were to appear on the notes in eight languages. 
 The question of the look of the notes, of their 
 ability to inspire confidence by their mere appear- 
 ance, is of real importance in a country where so 
 many of the peasantry will judge their value by 
 nothing else. 
 
 I reminded him of the hostility roused in some 
 villages by mistakes in the assessment and collect- 
 ing of the Extraordinary Tax, mistakes which (so 
 other Communists had assured me) would cost 
 them more, politically, than the tax was worth 
 to them, and asked him, "Will you not have great 
 difficulty in getting the exchange made, and are 
 you not running the risk of providing the reaction- 
 aries with a new profitable basis of agitation?" 
 
 He said that of course they would not make 
 the attempt unless they felt sure they were po- 
 
 136
 
 litically strong enough to carry it through. "If 
 it is properly explained to the villages there will 
 be nothing to fear, because the measure will not 
 threaten any but the rich and therefore the small 
 minority of the peasantry. It would be a differ- 
 ent matter if the same thing were to be tried by 
 the counter-revolutionaries, because they would 
 not discriminate in favour of the poor. If Kol- 
 chak and Company overthrow us and try to sub- 
 stitute their money for ours, their action would 
 affect rich and poor alike, minority and majority 
 together. If there were not a hundred other 
 causes guaranteeing the insecurity of their posi- 
 tion, the fact that they will be unable to get rid 
 of our money without rousing ^.the most violent 
 opposition in the masses throughout the country 
 would alone be sufficient to do it." 
 
 I asked whether that was the reason why they 
 intended to print on the notes "Proletariat of all 
 lands, unite," so that the counter-revolutionaries, 
 unable to tolerate money bearing that hated 
 phrase, should be forced to a step disastrous for 
 themselves. 
 
 He laughed, and said that he did not think 
 137
 
 counter-revolution in the least likely unless 
 brought in by invasion, which he did not think 
 politically possible. 
 
 138
 
 A PLAY OF CHEKHOV 
 
 February 2ist. 
 
 I SAW Chekhov's "Uncle Vanya" acted by the 
 cast of the Art Theatre in the First Studio. This 
 is a little theatre holding just over 200 people. 
 It was of course full. It was curious to see how 
 complete the revolution had been in a social sense. 
 It was impossible to tell to what class in pre- 
 revolutionary days any particular member of the 
 audience had belonged. I was struck by the new 
 smartness of the boy officers of the Red Army, 
 of whom a fair number were present. As we 
 waited for the curtain to rise, I thought how the 
 mental attitude of the people had changed. A 
 year ago, we lived with exhilaration or despair on 
 a volcano which might any day erupt and sweep 
 away the new life before any one had become 
 accustomed to live it. Now the danger to the 
 revolution was a thousand miles away on the va- 
 
 139
 
 rious fronts. Here, in the centre, the revolution 
 was an established fact. People had ceased to 
 wonder when it would end, were settling into 
 their places in the new social order, and took their 
 pleasures not as if they were plucking flowers on 
 their way to execution, but in the ordinary routine 
 of life. 
 
 The play is well known, a drama of bourgeois 
 society in a small country place. A poor land- 
 owner scraping money for an elder brother in the 
 town, realizing at last that the brother was not the 
 genius for whom such sacrifice was worth while; 
 a doctor with a love for forestry and dreams of 
 the future ; the old mock-genius's young wife ; his 
 sister; his adoring mother; the old nurse and the 
 ancient dependent adopted, as it were, with the 
 estate; all these people in their own way make 
 each other suffer. Chekhov's irony places before 
 us wasted lives, hopelessness, exaggerated interest 
 in personalities, vain strugglings after some better 
 outlet for the expression of selves not worth ex- 
 pressing. 
 
 That play, acted to-day, seemed as remote as a 
 play of the old regime in France would have 
 
 140
 
 seemed five years ago. A gulf seemed to have 
 passed. The play had become a play of historical 
 interest; the life it represented had gone for ever. 
 People in Russia no longer have time for private 
 lives of such a character. Such people no longer 
 exist ; some of them have been swept into the flood- 
 tide of revolution and are working as they never 
 hoped to have the chance to work; others, less 
 generous, have been broken and thrown aside. 
 The revolution has been hard on some, and has 
 given new life to others. It has swept away that 
 old life so absolutely that, come what may, it will 
 be a hundred years at least before anywhere in 
 Russia people will be able to be unhappy in that 
 particular way again. 
 
 The subject of "Uncle Vanya" was a great deal 
 more remote from the Russian audience of to-day 
 than was the opera of "Samson and Delilah" 
 which I heard last week. And, if I realized that 
 the revolution had come to stay, if I realized 
 that Chekhov's play had become a play of his- 
 torical interest, I realized also that Chekhov was 
 a great master in that his work carried across the 
 gulf between the old life and the new, and affected 
 
 141
 
 a revolutionary audience of to-day as strongly 
 as it affected that very different audience of a few 
 years ago. Indeed, the play seemed almost to 
 have gained by the revolution, which had lent it, 
 perhaps, more irony than was in Chekhov's mind 
 as he wrote. Was this the old life 1 ? I thought, 
 as I stepped out into the snow. If so, then thank 
 God it has gone ! 
 
 1 4 2
 
 THE CENTRO-TEXTILE 
 
 February 22nd. 
 
 THIS morning I drove to the Dielovoi Dvor, the 
 big house on the Varvarskaya Square which is 
 occupied by the central organization of the textile 
 industry. The head of this organization is No- 
 gin, an extremely capable, energetic Russian, so 
 capable, indeed, that I found it hard to believe 
 he could really be a Russian. He is a big man, 
 with a mass of thick brown shaggy hair, so thick 
 that the little bald patch on the top of his head 
 seems like an artificial tonsure. Nogin sketched 
 the lines on which the Russian textile industry was 
 being reorganized, and gave orders that I should 
 be supplied with all possible printed matter in 
 which to find the details. 
 
 The "Centro-Textile" is the actual centre of 
 the economic life of Russia, because, since textiles 
 
 H3
 
 are the chief materials of exchange between the 
 towns and the villages, on its success depends the 
 success of everything else. The textile industry 
 is, in any case, the most important of all Russian 
 industries. Before the war it employed 500,000 
 workmen, and Nogin said that in spite of the dis- 
 organization of the war and of the revolution 
 400,000 are employed to-day. This may be so 
 in the sense that 400,000 are receiving pay, but 
 lack of fuel or of raw material must have brought 
 many factories to a standstill. 
 
 All the big factories ha.ve been nationalized. 
 Formerly, although in any one town there might 
 be factories carrying out all the different processes, 
 these factories belonged to different owners. A 
 single firm or bank might control factories scat- 
 tered over Russia and, so that the whole process 
 should be in its hands, the raw material travelled 
 from factory to factory through the country, in- 
 stead of merely moving about a single town. 
 Xhus a roll of material might have gone through 
 one process at Jaroslav, another at Moscow, and 
 a third at Tula, and finally come back to Jaroslav 
 
 144
 
 to be finished, simply because the different fac- 
 tories which worked upon it, though widely scat- 
 tered, happened 'to be under one control. Na- 
 tionalization has made possible the rational re- 
 grouping of factories so that the complete process 
 is carried out in one place, consequently saving 
 transport. There are twenty-three complete 
 groups of this kind, and in the textile industry 
 generally about fifty groups in all. 
 
 There has been a similar concentration of con- 
 trol. In the old days there were hundreds of 
 different competitive firms with their buildings and 
 offices in the Ilyinka, the Varvarka, and the Ni- 
 kolskaya. 1 The Chinese town 1 was a mass of 
 little offices of different textile firms. The whole 
 of that mass of struggling competitive units of 
 direction had now been concentrated in the house 
 in which we were talking. The control of the 
 workers had been carried through in such a way 
 that the technical experts had proper weight. 
 (See p. 171.) There were periodical conferences 
 of elected representatives of all the factories, and 
 
 1 Streets and a district in Moscow. 
 H5
 
 Nogin believed that the system of combined 
 elective workmen's and appointed experts' repre- 
 sentation could hardly be improved upon. 
 
 Nationalization had had the effect of standard- 
 izing the output. Formerly, an infinite variety of 
 slightly different stuffs were produced, the varia- 
 tions being often merely for the sake of being 
 different in the competitive trade. Useless va- 
 rieties had now been done away with, with the 
 result of greater economy in production. 
 
 I asked what he could tell me about their diffi- 
 culties in the matter of raw material. He said 
 they no longer get anything from America, and 
 while the railway was cut at Orenburg by the 
 Cossacks, they naturally could get no cotton from 
 Turkestan. In fact, last autumn they had cal- 
 culated that they had only enough material to 
 keep the factories going until December. Now 
 they found they could certainly keep going to the 
 end of March, and probably longer. Many small 
 factories, wishing to make their cases out worse 
 than they were, had under-estimated their stocks. 
 Here, as in other things, the isolation of the revo- 
 
 146
 
 lution had the effect of teaching the Russians that 
 they were less dependent upon the outside world 
 than they had been in the habit of supposing. 
 He asked me if I knew it had been considered 
 impossible to combine flax and cotton in such a 
 way that the mixture could be worked in machines 
 intended for cotton only. They had an infinite 
 supply of flax, much of which in the old days had 
 been exported. Investigations carried on for the 
 Centre-Textile by two professors, the brothers 
 Chilikin, had ended in the discovery of three dif- 
 ferent processes for the cottonizing of flax in such 
 a way that they could now mix not only a small 
 percentage of their flax with cotton and use the 
 old machines, but were actually using fifty per 
 cent, flax and had already produced material ex- 
 perimentally with as much as seventy-five per 
 cent. 
 
 (Some days later two young technicians from 
 the Centro-Textile brought me a neatly prepared 
 set of specimens illustrating these new processes 
 and asked me to bring them anything of the same 
 sort from England in return. They were not 
 
 *47
 
 Bolsheviks were, in fact, typical non-politicals. 
 They were pleased with what the Centre-Textile 
 was doing, and said that more encouragement was 
 given to research than ever formerly. But they 
 were very despondent about the economic position. 
 I could not make them understand why Russia 
 was isolated, and that I might be unable to bring 
 them technical books from England.) 
 
 Nogin rather boastfully said that the western 
 linen industry would suffer from the isolation of 
 Russia, whereas in the long run the Russians would 
 be able to do without the rest of the world. With 
 regard to wool, they would have no difficulty now 
 that they were again united with a friendly 
 Ukraine. The silk industry was to be developed 
 in the Astrakhan district where climatic conditions 
 are particularly favourable. 
 
 I asked about the fate of the old textile manu- 
 facturers and was told that though many had gone 
 abroad many were working in the nationalized 
 factories. The engineering staff, which mostly 
 struck work at the beginning of the revolution, 
 had almost without exception returned, the 
 
 148
 
 younger engineers in particular realizing the new 
 possibilities opening before the industry, the con- 
 tinual need of new improvements, and the imme- 
 diate welcome given to originality of any kind. 
 Apart from the question of food, which was bad 
 for everybody, the social standard of the work- 
 ers had risen. Thus one of their immediate diffi- 
 culties was the provision of proper houses. The 
 capitalists and manufacturers kept the workers 
 in barracks. "Now-a-days the men want better 
 dwellings and we mean to give them better. 
 Some have moved into the old houses of the own- 
 ers and manufacturers, but of course there are not 
 enough of these to go round, and we have exten- 
 sive plans in the way of building villages and 
 garden cities for the workmen." 
 
 I asked Nogin what, in his opinion, was most 
 needed by Russia from abroad, and he said that 
 as far as the textile industries were concerned they 
 wanted machinery. Like every one else to whom 
 I put this question, he said that every industry 
 in Russia would be in a better position if only 
 they had more locomotives. "Some of our fac- 
 
 149
 
 tories are stopping now for lack of fuel, and at 
 Saratov, for example, we have masses of raw ma- 
 terial which we are unable to get to Moscow." 
 
 150
 
 IN the afternoon I met Sereda, the Commissar of 
 Agriculture. He insisted that the agrarian pol- 
 icy had been much misrepresented by their enemies 
 for the purposes of agitation. They had no in- 
 tention of any such idiocy as the attempt to force 
 the peasants to give up private ownership. The 
 establishment of communes was not to be com- 
 pulsory in any way; it was to be an illustrative 
 means of propaganda of the idea of communal 
 work, not more. The main task before them was 
 to raise the standard of Russian agriculture, which 
 under the old system was extremely low. By 
 working many of the old estates on a communal 
 system with the best possible methods they hoped 
 to do two things at once: to teach the peasant to 
 realize the advantages of communal labour, and 
 to show him that he could himself get a very
 
 great deal more out of his land than he docs. 
 "In other ways also we are doing everything we 
 can to give direct help to the small agriculturists. 
 We have mobilized all the agricultural experts in 
 the country. We are issuing a mass of simply 
 written pamphlets explaining better methods of 
 farming." 
 
 (I have seen scores of these pamphlets on for- 
 estry, potatoes, turf, rotation of crops, and so on, 
 besides the agricultural journals issued by the 
 Commissariat and sent in large quantities to the 
 villages.) 
 
 I told Sereda I had heard that the peasants 
 were refusing to sow more than they wanted for 
 their own needs. He said that on the contrary 
 the latest reports gave them the right to hope for 
 a greater sown area this year than ever before, and 
 that even more would have been sown if Den- 
 mark had not been prevented from letting them 
 have the seed for which they had actually paid. 
 I put the same question to him that I put to Nogin 
 as to what they most needed; he replied, "Trac- 
 tors." 
 
 152
 
 FOREIGN TRADE AND MUNITIONS 
 OF WAR 
 
 February 25th. 
 
 I HAD a talk in the Metropole with Krasin, who 
 is Commissar for Trade and- Industry and also 
 President of the Committee for Supplying the 
 Needs of the Army. He had disapproved of the 
 November Revolution, but last year, when things 
 looked like going badly, he came to Russia from 
 Stockholm feeling that he could not do otherwise 
 than help. He is an elderly man, an engineer, 
 and very much of a European. We talked first 
 of the Russian plans with regard to foreign trade. 
 All foreign trade, he said, is now concentrated in 
 the hands of the State, which is therefore able to 
 deal as a single customer. I asked how that 
 would apply to purchase, and whether they ex- 
 pected that countries dealing with them would 
 organize committees through which the whole 
 
 153
 
 Russian trade of each such country should simi- 
 larly pass. Krasin said, "Of course that would 
 be preferable, but only in the case of socialist 
 countries. As things are now it would be very 
 much to our disadvantage. It is better for us to 
 deal with individual capitalists than with a ring. 
 The formation of a committee in England, for 
 example, with a monopoly of trade with Russia, 
 would have the effect of raising prices against us, 
 since we could no longer go from a dear shop to 
 a cheaper one. Besides, as socialists we naturally 
 wish to do nothing to help in the trustification of 
 English manufacturers." 
 
 He recognized that foreign trade on any large 
 scale was impossible until their transport had 
 been improved. Russia proposed to do her pay- 
 ing in raw material, in flax, timber, etc., in ma- 
 terials of which she had great quantities although 
 she could not bring them to the ports until her 
 transport should be restored. It would, there- 
 fore, be in the foreigner's own interests to help 
 them in this matter. He added that they were 
 confident that in the long run they could, without 
 foreign help, so far restore their transport as to 
 
 154
 
 save themselves from starvation ; but for a speedy 
 return to normal conditions foreign help was es- 
 sential. 
 
 The other question we touched was that of mu- 
 nitions. I expressed some surprise that they 
 should be able to do so well although cut off from 
 the west. Krasin said that as far as that was 
 concerned they had ample munitions for a long 
 fight. Heavy artillery is not much use for the 
 kind of warfare waged in Russia; and as for light 
 artillery, they were making and mending their 
 own. They were not bothering with three-inch 
 shells because they had found that the old regime 
 had left scattered about Russia supplies of three- 
 inch shells sufficient to last them several years. 
 Dynamite also they had in enormous quantities. 
 They were manufacturing gunpowder. The car- 
 tridge output had trebled since August when Kra- 
 sin's committee was formed. He thought even 
 as things were they could certainly fight for a 
 year. 
 
 155
 
 THE PROPOSED DELEGATION FROM 
 BERNE 
 
 I DO not remember the exact date when the pro- 
 posal of the Berne International Conference to 
 send a Commission of Enquiry to Russia became 
 known in Moscow, but on February 2oth every- 
 body who came to see me was talking about it, 
 and from that date the question as to the reception 
 of the delegates was the most urgently debated 
 of all political subjects. Chicherin had replied 
 immediately to Berne, saying that "though they 
 did not consider the Berne Conference either so- 
 cialist or in any degree representative of the work- 
 ing-class they nevertheless would permit the Com- 
 mission's journey into Russia, and would give it 
 every opportunity of becoming acquainted from 
 all sides with the state of affairs, just as they 
 would any bourgeois commission directly or in- 
 directly connected with any of the bourgeois gov- 
 
 156
 
 ernments, even with those then attacking Russia." 
 It may well be imagined that a reply in this 
 style infuriated the Mensheviks who consider 
 themselves more or less affiliated to the parties 
 epresented at Berne. What, they shrieked, Kaut- 
 sky not a socialist 1 ? To which their opponents 
 replied, "The Government which Kautsky sup- 
 ports keeps Radek in irons in a gaol." But to 
 me the most interesting thing to observe was that 
 Chicherin's reply was scarcely more satisfactory 
 to some of the Communists. It had been sent off 
 before any general consultation, and it appeared 
 that the Communists themselves were widely di- 
 vided as to the meaning of the proposal. One 
 party believed that it was a first step towards 
 agreement and peace. The other thought it an 
 ingenious ruse by Clemenceau to get "so-called" 
 socialist condemnation of the Bolsheviks as a basis 
 for allied intervention. Both parties were, of 
 course, wrong in so far as they thought the Allied 
 Governments had anything to do with it. Both 
 the French and English delegates were refused 
 passports. This, however, was not known in 
 Moscow until after I left, and by then much had 
 
 157
 
 happened. I think the Conference which founded 
 the Third International in Moscow had its origin 
 in a desire to counter any ill effects that might 
 result from the expected visit of the people of 
 Berne. 
 
 Litvinov said he considered the sending of the 
 Commission from Berne the most dangerous 
 weapon yet conceived by their opponents. He 
 complained that he had been unable to get either 
 Lenin or Chicherin to realize that this delegation 
 was a preparation for hostilities, not a prepara- 
 tion for peace. "You do not understand that 
 since the beginning of the war there has been a 
 violent struggle between two Internationals, one 
 of which does not believe in revolution while the 
 other does. In this case a group of men already 
 committed to condemn the revolution are com- 
 ing to pass judgment on it. If they were not to 
 condemn the revolution they would be condemn- 
 ing themselves. Chicherin ought to have put a 
 condition that a delegation of Left Socialists 
 should also come. But he replied within an hour 
 of getting the telegram from Berne. These idiots 
 here think the delegation is coming to seek a 
 
 158
 
 ground for peace. It is nothing of the sort. It 
 is bound to condemn us, and the Bourgeois Gov- 
 ernments will know how to profit by the criticism, 
 however mild, that is signed by men who still re- 
 tain authority as socialists. Henderson, for ex- 
 ample (Henderson was at first named as one of 
 the delegates, later replaced by MacDonald), will 
 judge simply by whether people are hungry or 
 not. He will not allow for reasons which are not 
 in our control. Kautsky is less dangerous, be- 
 cause, after all, he will look below the obvious." 
 Reinstein remembered the old personal hostility 
 between Lenin and Kautsky, whom Lenin, in a 
 book which Reinstein thought unworthy of him, 
 had roundly denounced as a renegade and traitor. 
 The only man in the delegation who could be 
 counted on for an honest effort to understand was 
 Longuet. 
 
 As the days went on, it became clear that the 
 expected visit had provided a new bone of conten- 
 tion between the Russian parties. The Com- 
 munists decided that the delegates should not be 
 treated with any particular honour in the way of 
 a reception. The Mensheviks at once set about 
 
 159
 
 preparing a triumphal reception on a large scale 
 for the people whom they described as the repre- 
 sentatives of genuine socialism. Demian Biedny 
 retorted in an extremely amusing poetic dialogue, 
 representing the Mensheviks rehearsing their parts 
 to be ready for the reception. Other Communists 
 went to work to prepare a retort of a different 
 kind. They arranged a house for the Berne dele- 
 gates to live in, but at the same time they pre- 
 pared to emphasize the difference between the two 
 Internationals by the calling of an anti-Berne con- 
 ference which should disclaim all connection with 
 that old International which they considered had 
 gone into political bankruptcy at the outbreak of 
 the European war. 
 
 160
 
 THE EXECUTIVE COMMITTEE ON 
 THE RIVAL PARTIES 
 
 February 26th. 
 
 IN the afternoon I got to the Executive Com- 
 mittee in time to hear the end of a report by 
 Rykov on the economic position. He said there 
 was hope for a satisfactory conclusion to the ne- 
 gotiations for the building of the Obi-Kotlas rail- 
 way, and hoped that this would soon be followed 
 by similar negotiations and by other concessions. 
 He explained that they did not want capitalism 
 in Russia but that they did want the things that 
 capital could give them in exchange for what they 
 could give capital. This was, of course, referring 
 to the opposition criticism that the Soviet was 
 prepared to sell Russia into the hands of the 
 "Anglo-American Imperialistic bandits." Rykov 
 said that the main condition of all concessions 
 would be that they should not effect the interna- 
 
 161
 
 tional structure of the Soviet Republic and should 
 not lead to the exploitation of the workmen. 
 They wanted railways, locomotives, and machines, 
 and their country was rich enough to pay for these 
 things out of its natural resources without sensible 
 loss to the state or the yielding of an inch in their 
 programme of internal reconstruction. 
 
 He was followed by Krestinsky, who pointed 
 out that whereas the commissariats were, in a 
 sense, altered forms of the old ministries, links 
 with the past, the Council of Public Economy, 
 organizing the whole production and distribution 
 of the country, building the new socialist state, 
 was an entirely new organ and a link, not with the 
 past, but with the future. 
 
 The two next speeches illustrated one of the 
 main difficulties of the revolution. Krasin (see 
 p. 153) criticized the council for insufficient con- 
 fidence in the security of the revolution. He said 
 they were still hampered by fears lest here or 
 there capitalism should creep in again. They 
 were unnecessarily afraid to make the fullest pos- 
 sible use of specialists of all kinds who had taken 
 . a leading part in industry under the old regime 
 
 162
 
 and who, now that the old regime, the old system, 
 had been definitely broken, could be made to serve 
 the new. He believed that unless the utmost use 
 was made of the resources of the country in tech- 
 nical knowledge, etc., they could not hope to or- 
 ganize the maximum productivity which alone 
 could save them from catastrophe. 
 
 The speaker who followed him, Glebov, de- 
 fended precisely the opposite point of view and 
 represented the same attitude with regard to the 
 re-organization of industry as is held by many 
 who object to Trotsky's use of officers of the old 
 army in the re-organization of the new, believing 
 that all who worked in high places under the old 
 regime must be and remain enemies of the revo- 
 lution, so that their employment is a definite source 
 of danger. Glebov is a trade union representa- 
 tive, and his speech was a clear indication of the 
 non-political undercurrent towards the left which 
 may shake the Bolshevik position and will most 
 certainly come into violent conflict with any defi- 
 nitely bourgeois government that may be brought 
 in by counter-revolution. 
 
 In the resolution on the economic position which 
 163
 
 was finally passed unanimously, one point reads 
 as follows: "It is necessary to strive for just 
 economic relations with other countries in the form 
 of state regulated exchange of goods and the bring- 
 ing of the productive forces of other countries to 
 the working out of the untouched natural resources 
 of Soviet Russia." It is interesting to notice the 
 curiously mixed character of the opposition. 
 Some call for "a real socialism," which shall make 
 no concessions whatsoever to foreign capital, 
 others for the cessation of civil war and peace with 
 the little governments which have obtained Allied 
 support. In a single number of the Printers 1 
 Gazette, for example, there was a threat to appeal 
 against the Bolsheviks to the delegation from 
 Berne and an attack on Chicherin for being ready 
 to make terms with the Entente. 
 
 The next business on the programme was the 
 attitude to be adopted towards the repentant So- 
 cial Revolutionaries of the Right. Kamenev 
 made the best speech I have ever heard from him, 
 for once in a way not letting himself be drawn 
 into agitational digressions, but going point by 
 point through what he had to say and saying it 
 
 164
 
 economically. The S.R.'s had had three watch- 
 words: "War and alliance with the Allies," 
 "Coalition with the bourgeoisie," and "The Con- 
 stituent Assembly." For over a year they had 
 waged open war with the Soviet Government over 
 these three points. They had been defeated in 
 the field. But they had suffered a far more se- 
 rious moral defeat in having to confess that their 
 very watchwords had been unsound. "War and 
 Alliance with the Allies" had shown itself to mean 
 the occupation of Russian territory by foreign 
 troops in no way concerned to save the revolution, 
 but ready, as they had shown, to help every force 
 that was working for its suppression. "Coalition 
 with the Bourgeoisie" had shown itself to be a path 
 the natural ending to which was the dictatorship 
 of the bourgeoisie through military force. "The 
 Constituent Assembly" had been proved to be no 
 more than a useful mask behind which the enemies 
 of the revolution could prepare their forces and 
 trick the masses to their own undoing. 
 
 He read the declaration of the Right Social 
 Revolutionaries, admitting that the Soviet Gov- 
 ernment was the only force working against a 
 
 165
 
 dictatorship of the bourgeoisie, and calling upon 
 their troops to overthrow the usurping govern- 
 ments in Siberia, and elsewhere. This repentance, 
 however, had come rather late and there were those 
 who did not share it. He said finally that the 
 Executive Committee must remember that it was 
 not a party considering its relations with another 
 party, but an organ of government considering the 
 attitude of the country towards a party which in 
 the most serious moment of Russian history had 
 admittedly made grave mistakes and helped Rus- 
 sia's enemies. Now, in this difficult moment, 
 every one who was sincerely ready to help the 
 working masses of Russia in their struggle had the 
 right to be given a place in the ranks of the fight- 
 ers. The Social Revolutionaries should be al- 
 lowed to prove in deeds the sincerity of their re- 
 cantation. The resolution which was passed re- 
 capitulated the recantations, mentioned by name 
 the members of the party with whom discussions 
 had been carried on, withdrew the decision of 
 June 14th (excluding the S.R.'s from the Exec- 
 utive Committee on the ground of their counter- 
 revolutionary tendencies) with regard to all groups 
 
 166
 
 of the party which held themselves bound by the 
 recently published declarations, gave them the 
 right equally with other parties to share in the 
 work of the Soviets, and notified the administra- 
 tive and judicial organs of the Republic to free 
 the arrested S.R.'s who shared the point of view 
 expressed in the recantations. The resolution was 
 passed without enthusiasm but without opposi- 
 tion. 
 
 There followed the reading by Avanesov of the 
 decree concerning the Menshevik paper Vsegda 
 Vpered ("Forever Forward," but usually de- 
 scribed by critics of the Mensheviks as "Forever 
 Backward"). The resolution pointed out that in 
 spite of the Mensheviks having agreed on the need 
 of supporting the Soviet Government they were 
 actually carrying on an agitation, the effect of 
 which could only be to weaken the army. An 
 example was given of an article, "Stop the Civil 
 War," in which they had pointed out that the 
 war was costing a great deal, and that much of 
 the food supplies went to the army. On these 
 grounds they had demanded the cessation of the 
 civil war. The Committee pointed out that the 
 
 167
 
 Mensheviks were making demagogic use of the 
 difficulties of the food supply, due in part to the 
 long isolation from the Ukraine, the Volga dis- 
 trict and Siberia, for which those Mensheviks who 
 had worked with the White Guard were them- 
 selves partly responsible. They pointed out that 
 Russia was a camp besieged from all sides, that 
 Kolchak had seized the important centre of Perm, 
 that Petrograd was threatened from Finland, that 
 in the streets of Rostov and Novo Tcherkassk 
 gallows with the bodies of workmen were still 
 standing, that Denikin was making a destructive 
 raid in the northern Caucasus, that the Polish 
 legionaries were working for the seizure of Vilna 
 and the suppression of Lithuania and the White 
 Russian proletariat, and that in the ports of the 
 Black Sea the least civilized colonial troops of the 
 Entente were supporting the White Guards. 
 They pointed out that the Soviet Government had 
 offered concessions in order to buy off the impe- 
 rialistic countries and had received no reply. 
 Taking all this into consideration the demand to 
 end civil war amounted to a demand for the dis- 
 arming of the working class and the poor peasantry 
 
 168
 
 in the face of bandits and executioners advancing 
 from all sides. In a word, it was the worst form 
 of state crime, namely, treason to a state of work- 
 ers and peasants. The Committee considered use- 
 ful every kind of practical criticism of the work 
 of the Soviet Government in all departments, but 
 it could not allow that in the rear of the Red 
 Army of workers and peasants, under that army's 
 protection, should be carried on unrestrained an 
 agitation which could have only one result, the 
 weakening of Soviet Russia in the face of its 
 many enemies. Therefore Vsegda Vpered would 
 be closed until the Mensheviks should show in 
 deed that they were ready to stand to the defence 
 and support of the revolution. At the same time, 
 the Committee reminded the Mensheviks that a 
 continuation of their counter-revolutionary work 
 would force the Soviet Government "to expel them 
 to the territories of Kolchak's democracy." This 
 conclusion was greeted with laughter and ap- 
 plause, and with that the meeting ended. 
 
 169
 
 COMMISSARIAT OF LABOUR 
 
 February 28th. 
 
 THIS morning I went round to the Commissariat 
 of Labour, to see Schmidt, the Commissar. 
 Schmidt is a clean-shaven, intelligent young man, 
 whose attention to business methods is reflected 
 in his Commissariat, which, unlike that of For- 
 eign Affairs, is extremely clean and very well 
 organized. I told him I was particularly inter- 
 ested to hear what he could say in answer to the 
 accusations made both by the Mensheviks and by 
 the Extremists on the Left that control by the 
 workers has become a dead letter, and that a 
 time will come when the trades unions will move 
 against the state organizations. 
 
 Schmidt answered: "Those accusations and 
 suggestions are all very well for agitational pur- 
 poses, but the first to laugh at them would be the 
 trades unions themselves. This Commissariat, 
 
 170
 
 for example, which is the actual labour centre, is 
 controlled directly by the unions. As Commissar 
 of Labour, I was elected directly by the General 
 Council of the Trades Unions. Of the College 
 of nine members which controls the whole work 
 of the Commissariat, five are elected directly by 
 the General Council of the Trades Unions and 
 four appointed by the Council of People's Com- 
 missaries, thus giving the Unions a decisive ma- 
 jority in all questions concerning labour. All 
 nine are confirmed by the Council of People's Com- 
 missaries, representing the state as a whole, and 
 the Commissar is confirmed by the All-Russian 
 Executive Committee." 
 
 Of course control by the workers, as it was first 
 introduced, led speedily to many absurdities and, 
 much to the dissatisfaction of the extremer ele- 
 ments, has been considerably modified. It was 
 realized that the workers in any particular fac- 
 tory might by considering only their own inter- 
 ests harm the community as a whole, and so, in 
 the long run, themselves. The manner of its 
 modification is an interesting example of the way 
 in which, without the influence of tanks, a'fro- 
 
 171
 
 planes or bayonets, the cruder ideas of communism 
 are being modified by life. It was reasoned that 
 since the factory was the property, not of the par- 
 ticular workmen who work in it, but of the com- 
 munity as a whole, the community as a whole 
 should have a considerable voice in its manage- 
 ment. And the effect of that reasoning has been 
 to ensure that the technical specialist and the 
 expert works manager are no longer at the caprice 
 of a hastily called gathering of the workmen who 
 may, without understanding them, happen to dis- 
 approve of some of their dispositions. Thus the 
 economical, administrative council of a national- 
 ized factory consists of representatives of the 
 workmen and clerical staff, representatives of the 
 higher technical and commercial staffs, the di- 
 rectors of the factory (who are appointed by the 
 Central Direction of National Factories), repre- 
 sentatives of the local council of trades unions, 
 the Council of Public Economy, the local soviet, 
 and the industrial union of the particular indus- 
 try carried on in the factory, together with a rep- 
 resentative of the workers' co-operative society 
 and a representative of the peasants' soviet of the 
 
 172
 
 district in which the factory is situated. In this 
 council not more than half of the members may 
 be representatives of the workmen and clerical 
 staff of the factory. This council considers the 
 internal order of the factory, complaints of any 
 kind, and the material and moral conditions of 
 work and so on. On questions of a technical char- 
 acter it has no right to do more than give advice. 
 The night before I saw Schmidt, little Finberg 
 had come to my room for a game of chess in a 
 very perturbed state of mind, having just come 
 from a meeting of the union to which he belonged 
 (the union of clerks, shop assistants and civil 
 servants) where there had been a majority against 
 the Bolsheviks after some fierce criticism over this 
 particular question. Finberg had said that the 
 ground basis of the discontent had been the lack 
 of food, but that the outspoken criticism had taken 
 the form, first, of protests against the offer of 
 concessions in Chicherin's Note of February 4th, 
 on the ground that concessions meant concessions 
 to foreign capitalism and the formation in Rus- 
 sia of capitalist centres which would eventually 
 spread; and second, that the Communists them- 
 
 173
 
 selves, by their modifications of Workers' Control, 
 were introducing State Capitalism instead of So- 
 cialism. 
 
 I mentioned this union to Schmidt, and asked 
 him to explain its hostility. He laughed, and 
 said: "Firstly, that union is not an industrial 
 union at all, but includes precisely the people 
 whose interests are not identical with those of the 
 workmen. Secondly, it includes all the old civil 
 servants who, as you remember, left the ministries 
 at the November Revolution, in many cases tak- 
 ing the money with them. They came back in 
 the end, but though no longer ready to work 
 openly against the revolution as a whole, they re- 
 tain much of their old dislike of us, and, as you . 
 see, the things they were objecting to last night 
 were precisely the things which do not concern 
 them in particular. Any other stick would be 
 as good to them. They know well that if they 
 were to go on strike now they would be a nuisance 
 to us, no more. If you wish to know the attitude 
 of the Trades Unions, you should look at the 
 Trades Union Congress which wholly supported 
 us, and gave a very different picture of affairs. 
 
 174
 
 They know well that in all questions of labour, 
 the trades unions have the decisive voice. I told 
 you that the unions send a majority of the mem- 
 bers of the College which controls the work of 
 this Commissariat. I should have added that the 
 three most important departments the depart- 
 ment for safeguarding labour, the department for 
 distributing labour, and that for regulating wages 
 are entirely controlled by the Unions." 
 "How do politics affect the Commissariat'?" 
 "Not at all. Politics do not count with us, 
 just because we are directly controlled by the 
 Unions, and not by any political party. Men- 
 sheviks, Maximalists and others have worked and 
 are working in the Commissariat. Of course if 
 a man were opposed to the revolution as a whole 
 we should not have him here, because he would 
 be working against us instead of helping." 
 
 I asked whether he thought the trade unions 
 would ever disappear in the Soviet organizations. 
 He thought not. On the contrary, they had 
 grown steadily throughout the revolution. He 
 told me that one great change had been made in 
 them. Trade unions have been merged together 
 
 175
 
 into industrial unions, to prevent conflict between 
 individual sections of one industry. Thus boiler- 
 makers and smiths do not have separate unions, 
 but are united in the metal-workers' union. This 
 unification has its effect on reforms and changes. 
 An increase in wages, for example, is simultaneous 
 all over Russia. The price of living varies very 
 considerably in different parts of the country, 
 there being as great differences between the cli- 
 mates of different parts as there are between the 
 countries of Europe. Consequently a uniform 
 absolute increase would be grossly unfair to some 
 and grossly favourable to others. The increase 
 is therefore proportional to the cost of living. 
 Moscow is taken as a norm of 100, and when a 
 new minimum wage is established for Moscow 
 other districts increase their minimum wage pro- 
 portionately. A table for this has been worked 
 out, whereby in comparison with 100 for Mos- 
 cow, Petrograd is set down as 120, Voronezh 
 or Kursk as 70, and so on. 
 
 We spoke of the new programme of the Com- 
 munists, rough drafts of which were being printed 
 in the newspapers for discussion, and he showed 
 
 176
 
 me his own suggestions in so far as the programme 
 concerned labour. He wished the programme to 
 include, among other aims, the further mechaniza- 
 tion of production, particularly the mechanization 
 of all unpleasant and dirty processes, improved 
 sanitary inspection, shortening of the working day 
 in employments harmful to health, forbidding 
 women with child to do any but very light work, 
 and none at all for eight weeks before giving 
 birth and for eight weeks afterwards, forbidding 
 overtime, and so on. "We have already gone far 
 beyond our old programme, and our new one steps 
 far ahead of us. Russia is the first country in the 
 world where all workers have a fortnight's holi- 
 day in the year, and workers in dangerous or un- 
 healthy occupations have a month's." 
 
 I said, "Yes, but don't you find that there is 
 a very long way between the passing of a law and 
 its realization*?" 
 
 Schmidt laughed and replied : "In some things 
 certainly, yes. For example, we are against all 
 overtime, but, in the present state of Russia we 
 should be sacrificing to a theory the good of the 
 revolution as a whole if we did not allow and en- 
 
 177
 
 courage overtime in transport repairs. Similarly, 
 until things are further developed than they are 
 now, we should be criminal slaves to theory if we 
 did not, in some cases, allow lads under sixteen 
 years old to be in the factories when we have not 
 yet been able to provide the necessary schools 
 where we would wish them to be. But the pro- 
 gramme is there, and as fast as it can be realized 
 we are realizing it." 
 
 178
 
 EDUCATION 
 
 February 28th. 
 
 AT the Commissariat of Public Education I showed 
 Professor Pokrovsky a copy of The German- 
 Bolshevik Conspiracy, published in America, con- 
 taining documents supposed to prove that the 
 German General Staff arranged the November 
 Revolution, and that the Bolsheviks were no more 
 than German agents. The weak point about the 
 documents is that the most important of them 
 have no reason for existence except to prove that 
 there was such a conspiracy. These are the docu- 
 ments bought by Mr. Sisson. I was interested to 
 see what Pokrovsky would say of them. He 
 looked through them, and while saying that he 
 had seen forged documents better done, pointed 
 as evidence to the third of them which ends with 
 the alleged signatures of Zalkind, Polivanov, Mek- 
 hanoshin and Joffe. He observed that whoever 
 
 179
 
 forged the things knew a good deal, but did not 
 know quite enough, because these persons, de- 
 scribed as "plenipotentiaries of the Council of 
 Peoples' Commissars," though all actually in the 
 service of the Soviet Government, could not all, 
 at that time, have been what they were said to be. 
 Polivanov, for example, was a very minor official. 
 Joffe, on the other hand, was indeed a person of 
 some importance. The putting of the names in 
 that order was almost as funny as if they had 
 produced a document signed by Lenin and the 
 Commandant of the Kremlin, putting the latter 
 first. 
 
 Pokrovsky told me a good deal about the or- 
 ganization of this Commissariat, as Lunacharsky, 
 the actual head of it, was away in Petrograd. 
 The routine work is run by a College of nine mem- 
 bers appointed by the Council of People's Commis- 
 sars. The Commissar of Education himself is 
 appointed by the All-Russian Executive Commit- 
 tee. Besides this, there is a Grand College which 
 meets rarely for the settlement of important ques- 
 tions. In it are representatives of the Trades 
 Unions, the Workers' Co-operatives, the Teachers' 
 
 180
 
 Union, various Commissariats such as that for 
 affairs of Nationality, and other public organiza- 
 tions. He also gave me then and at a later date 
 a number of figures illustrating the work that has 
 been done since the revolution. Thus whereas 
 there used to be six universities there are now six- 
 teen, most of the new universities having been 
 opened on the initiative of the local Soviets, as 
 at Astrakhan, Nijni, Kostroma, Tambov, 
 Smolensk and other places. New polytechnics 
 are being founded. At Ivano-Vosnesensk the new 
 polytechnic is opened and that at Briansk is be- 
 ing prepared. The number of students in the 
 universities has increased enormously though not 
 to the same proportion as the number of universi- 
 ties, partly because the difficulties of food supply 
 keep many students out of the towns, and partly 
 because of the newness of some of the universities 
 which are only now gathering their students about 
 them. All education is free. In August last a 
 decree was passed abolishing preliminary exami- 
 nations for persons wishing to become students. 
 It was considered that very many people who 
 could attend the lectures with profit to them- 
 
 181
 
 selves had been prevented by the war or by pre- 
 revolution conditions from acquiring the sort of 
 knowledge that could be tested by examination. 
 It was also believed that no one would willingly 
 listen to lectures that were of no use to him. 
 They hoped to get as many working men into the 
 universities as possible. Since the passing of that 
 decree the number of students at Moscow Uni- 
 versity, for example, has more than doubled. It 
 is interesting to notice that of the new students a 
 greater number are studying in the faculties of 
 science and history and philosophy than in those 
 of medicine or law. Schools are being unified on 
 a new basis in which labour plays a great part. 
 I frankly admit I do not understand, and I gather 
 that many teachers have also failed to understand, 
 how this is done. Crafts of all kinds take a big 
 place in the scheme. The schools are divided into 
 two classes one for children from seven to twelve 
 years old, and one for those aged from thirteen to 
 seventeen. A milliard roubles has been assigned 
 to feeding children in the schools, and those who 
 most need them are supplied with clothes and 
 footgear. Then there are many classes for work- 
 
 182
 
 ing men, designed to give the worker a general 
 scientific knowledge of his own trade and so pre- 
 vent him from being merely a machine carrying 
 out a single uncomprehended process. Thus a 
 boiler-maker can attend a course on mechanical 
 engineering, an electrical worker a course on 
 electricity, and the best agricultural experts are 
 being employed to give similar lectures to the 
 peasants. The workmen crowd to these courses. 
 One course, for example, is attended by a thou- 
 sand men in spite of the appalling cold of the 
 lecture rooms. The hands of the science pro- 
 fessors, so Pokrovsky told me, are frostbitten from 
 touching the icy metal of their instruments during 
 demonstrations. 
 
 The following figures represent roughly the 
 growth in the number of libraries. In October, 
 1917, there were 23 libraries in Petrograd, 30 in 
 Moscow. To-day there are 49 in Petrograd and 
 85 in Moscow, besides a hundred book distribut- 
 ing centres. A similar growth in the number of 
 libraries has taken place in the country districts. 
 In Ousolsky ouezd^ for example, there are now 
 73 village libraries, 35 larger libraries and 500 
 
 183
 
 hut libraries or reading rooms. In Moscow edu- 
 cational institutions, not including schools, have 
 increased from 369 to 1,357. 
 
 There are special departments for the circula- 
 tion of printed matter, and they really have de- 
 veloped a remarkable organization. I was shown 
 over their headquarters on the Tverskaya, and saw 
 huge maps of Russia with all the distributing cen- 
 tres marked with reference numbers so that it was 
 possible to tell in a moment what number of any 
 new publication should be sent to each. Every 
 post office is a distributing centre to which is sent 
 a certain number of all publications, periodical 
 and other. The local Soviets ask through the post 
 offices for such quantities as are required, so that 
 the supply can be closely regulated by the de- 
 mand. The bookselling kiosks send in reports of 
 the sale of the various newspapers, etc., to elimi- 
 nate the waste of over-production, a very impor- 
 tant matter in a country faced simultaneously by 
 a vigorous demand for printed matter and an ex- 
 treme scarcity of paper. 
 
 It would be interesting to have statistics to 
 illustrate the character of the literature in de- 
 
 184
 
 mand. One thing can be said at once. No one 
 reads sentimental romances. As is natural in a 
 period of tremendous political upheaval pamphlets 
 sell by the thousand, speeches of Lenin and Trot- 
 sky are only equalled in popularity by Demian 
 Biedny's more or less political poetry. Pamphlets 
 and books on Marx, on the war, and particularly 
 on certain phases of the revolution, on different 
 aspects of economic reconstruction, simply written 
 explanations of laws or policies vanish almost as 
 soon as they are put on the stalls. The reading 
 of this kind has been something prodigious during 
 the revolution. A great deal of poetry is read, 
 and much is written. It is amusing to find in a 
 red-hot revolutionary paper serious articles and 
 letters by well-meaning persons advising would-be 
 proletarian poets to stick to Pushkin and Lermon- 
 tov. There is much excited controversy both in 
 magazine and pamphlet form as to the distin- 
 guishing marks of the new proletarian art which 
 is expected to come out of the revolution and 
 no doubt will come, though not in the form ex- 
 pected. But the Communists cannot be accused 
 of being unfaithful to the Russian classics. Even 
 
 185
 
 Radek, a foreign fosterchild and an adopted Rus- 
 sian, took Gogol as well as Shakespeare with him 
 when he went to annoy General Hoffmann at 
 Brest. The Soviet Government has earned the 
 gratitude of many Russians who dislike it for 
 everything else it has done by the resolute way 
 in which it has brought the Russian classics into 
 the bookshops. Books that were out of print and 
 unobtainable, like Kliutchevsky's "Courses in Rus- 
 sian History," have been reprinted from the 
 stereotypes and set afloat again at most reason- 
 able prices. I was also able to buy a book of his 
 which I have long wanted, his "Foreigners' Ac- 
 counts of the Muscovite State," which had also 
 fallen out of print. In the same way the Gov- 
 ernment has reprinted, and sells at fixed low prices 
 that may not be raised by retailers, the works of 
 Koltzov, Nikitin, Krylov, Saltykov-Shtchedrin, 
 Chekhov, Goncharov, Uspensky, Tchernyshevsky, 
 Pomyalovsky and others. It is issuing Chukov- 
 sky's edition of Nekrasov, reprints of Tolstoy, 
 Dostoievsky and Turgenev, and books by Pro- 
 fessor Timiriazev, Karl Pearson and others of a 
 scientific character, besides the complete works of 
 
 186
 
 Lenin's old rival, Plekhanov. It is true that most 
 of this work is simply done by reprinting from 
 old stereotypes, but the point is that the books 
 are there, and the sale for them is very large. 
 
 Among the other experts on the subject of the 
 Soviet's educational work I consulted two friends, 
 a little boy, Glyeb, who sturdily calls himself a 
 Cadet though three of his sisters work in Soviet 
 institutions, and an old and very wise porter. 
 Glyeb says that during the winter they had no 
 heating, so that they sat in school in their coats, 
 and only sat for a very short time, because of the 
 great cold. He told me, however, that they gave 
 him a good dinner there every day, and that les- 
 sons would be all right as soon as the weather got 
 warmer. He showed me a pair of felt boots 
 which had been given him at the school. The 
 old porter summed up the similar experience of 
 his sons. "Yes," he said, "they go there, sing 
 the Marseillaise twice through, have dinner and 
 come home." I then took these expert criticisms 
 to Pokrovsky who said, "It is perfectly true. We 
 have not enough transport to feed the armies, let 
 alone bringing food and warmth for ourselves. 
 
 187
 
 And if, under these conditions, we forced children 
 to go through all their lessons we should have 
 corpses to teach, not children. But by making 
 them come for their meals we do two things, keep 
 them alive, and keep them in the habit of coming, 
 so that when the warm weather comes we can do 
 better." 
 
 188
 
 A BOLSHEVIK FELLOW OF THE 
 ROYAL SOCIETY 
 
 AT Sukhanov's suggestion I went to see Professor 
 Timiriazev, the greatest Russian Darwinian, well- 
 known to many scientific men in this country, a 
 foreign member of the Royal Society, a Doctor 
 of Cambridge University and a Bolshevik. He 
 is about eighty years old. His left arm is para- 
 lysed, and, as he said, he can only work at his 
 desk and not be out and about to help as he would 
 wish. A venerable old savant, he was sitting writ- 
 ing with a green dressing gown about him, for his 
 little flat was very cold. On the walls were por- 
 traits of Darwin, Newton and Gilbert, besides 
 portraits of contemporary men of science whom 
 he had known. English books were everywhere. 
 He gave me two copies of his last scientific book 
 and his latest portrait to take to two of his friends 
 in England. 
 
 189
 
 He lives with his wife and son. I asked if his 
 son were also a Bolshevik. 
 
 "Of course," he replied. 
 
 He then read me a letter he had written, pro- 
 testing against intervention. He spoke of his old 
 love for England and for the English people. 
 Then, speaking of the veil of lies drawn between 
 Soviet Russia and the rest of the world, he broke 
 down altogether, and bent his head to hide his 
 tears. 
 
 "I suffer doubly," he said, after excusing him- 
 self for the weakness of a very old man. "I suffer 
 as a Russian, and, if I may say so, I suffer as an 
 Englishman. I have English blood in my veins. 
 My mother, you see, looks quite English," pointing 
 to a daguerreotype on the wall, "and my grand- 
 mother was actually English. I suffer as an Eng- 
 lishman when I see the country that I love misled 
 by lies, and I suffer as a Russian because those lies 
 concern the country to which I belong, and the 
 ideas which I am proud to hold." 
 
 The old man rose with difficulty, for he, like 
 every one else in Moscow, is half starved. He 
 showed me his Byron, his Shakespeare, his En- 
 
 190
 
 cyclopaedia Britannica, his English diplomas. He 
 pointed to the portraits on the wall. "If I could 
 but let them know the truth," he said, "those 
 friends of mine in England, they would protest 
 against actions which are unworthy of the Eng- 
 land we have loved together." 
 
 191
 
 DIGRESSION 
 
 AT this point the chronological arrangement of 
 my book, already weak, breaks down altogether. 
 So far I have set down, almost day by day, things 
 seen and heard which seemed to me characteristic 
 and clear illustration of the mentality of the Com- 
 munists, of the work that has been done or that 
 they are trying to do, and of the general state of 
 affairs. I spent the whole of my time in ceaseless 
 investigation, talking now with this man, now 
 with that, until at the end of a month I was so 
 tired (besides being permanently hungry) that I 
 began to fear rather than to seek new experiences 
 and impressions. The last two weeks of my stay 
 were spent, not in visiting Commissariats, but in 
 collecting masses of printed material, in talking 
 with my friends of the opposition parties, and, 
 while it was in progress, visiting daily the Confer- 
 ence in the Kremlin which, in the end, definitely 
 
 192
 
 announced itself as the Third International. I 
 have considered it best to treat of that Confer- 
 ence more or less as a whole, and am therefore 
 compelled to disregard chronology altogether in 
 putting down on paper <the results of some of my 
 talks with the opposition. Some of these took 
 place on the same days as my visits to the Kremlin 
 conference, and during those days I was also partly 
 engaged in getting to see the British prisoners in 
 the Butyrka prison, in which I eventually suc- 
 ceeded. This is my excuse for the inadequacy of 
 ny account of the conference, an inadequacy which 
 I regret the more as I was the only non-Communist 
 who was able to be there at all. 
 
 193
 
 THE OPPOSITION 
 
 No man likes being hungry. No man likes being 
 cold. Everybody in Moscow, as in Petrograd, is 
 both hungry and cold. There is consequently very 
 general and very bitter discontent. This is of 
 course increased, not lessened, by the discipline 
 introduced into the factories and the heavy burden 
 of the army, although the one is intended to 
 hasten the end of hunger and cold and the other 
 for the defence of the revolution. The Com- 
 munists, as the party in power, naturally bear the 
 blame and are the objects of the discontent, which 
 will certainly within a short time be turned upon 
 any other government that may succeed them. 
 That government must introduce sterner discipline 
 rather than weaker, and the transport and other 
 difficulties of the country will remain the same, 
 unless increased by the disorder of a new up- 
 heaval and the active or passive resistance of many 
 
 194
 
 who are convinced revolutionaries or will become 
 so in answer to repression. 
 
 The Communists believe that to let power slip 
 from their hands at this moment would be treach- 
 ery to the revolution. And, in the face of the 
 advancing forces of the Allies and Kolchak many 
 of the leaders of the opposition are inclined to 
 agree with them, and temporarily to submit to 
 what they undoubtedly consider rank tyranny. 
 A position has been reached after these eighteen 
 months not unlike that reached by the English 
 Parliament party in 1643. I am reminded of a 
 passage in Guizot, which is so illuminating that 
 I make no apology for quoting it in full : 
 
 "The party had been in the ascendant for three 
 years: whether it had or had not, in church and 
 state, accomplished its designs, it was at all events 
 by its aid and concurrence that, for three years, 
 public affairs had been conducted; this alone was 
 sufficient to make many people weary of it ; it was 
 made responsible for the many evils already en- 
 dured, for the many hopes frustrated; it was de- 
 nounced as being no less addicted to persecution 
 than the bishops, no less arbitrary than the king: 
 
 195
 
 its inconsistencies, its weaknesses, were recalled 
 with bitterness; and, independently of this, even 
 without factions or interested views, from the mere 
 progress of events and opinions, there was felt a 
 secret need of new principles and new rulers." 
 
 New rulers are advancing on Moscow from Si- 
 beria, but I do not think that they claim that they 
 are bringing with them new principles. Though 
 the masses may want new principles, and might 
 for a moment submit to a reintroduction of very 
 old principles in desperate hope of less hunger and 
 less cold, no one but a lunatic could imagine that 
 they would for very long willingly submit to 
 them. In the face of the danger that they may 
 be forced to submit not to new principles but to 
 very old ones, the non-Communist leaders are un- 
 willing to use to the full the discontent that exists. 
 Hunger and cold are a good enough basis of agita- 
 tion for anyone desirous of overturning any exist- 
 ing government. But the Left Social Revolu- 
 tionaries, led by the hysterical but flamingly hon- 
 est Spiridonova, are alone in having no scruples 
 or hesitation in the matter, the more responsible 
 parties fearing the anarchy and consequent weak- 
 
 196
 
 ening of the revolution that would result from 
 any violent change. 
 
 THE LEFT SOCIAL REVOLUTIONARIES 
 
 The Left Social Revolutionaries want something 
 so much like anarchy that they have nothing to 
 fear in a collapse of the present system. They 
 are for a partisan army, not a regular army. They 
 are against the employment of officers who served 
 under the old regime. They are against the em- 
 ployment of responsible technicians and commer- 
 cial experts in the factories. They believe that 
 officers and experts alike, being ex-bourgeois, must 
 be enemies of the people, insidiously engineering 
 reaction. They are opposed to any agreement 
 with the Allies, exactly as they were opposed to 
 any agreement with the Germans. I heard them 
 describe the Communists as "the bourgeois gen- 
 darmes of the Entente," on the ground that hav- 
 ing offered concessions they would be keeping 
 order in Russia for the benefit of Allied capital. 
 They blew up Mirbach, and would no doubt try 
 to blow up any successors he might have. Not 
 wanting a regular army (a low bourgeois weapon) 
 
 197
 
 they would welcome occupation in order that they, 
 with bees in their bonnets and bombs in their 
 hands, might go about revolting against it. 
 
 I did not see Spiridonova, because on February 
 1 1, the very day when I had an appointment with 
 her, the Communists arrested her, on the ground 
 that her agitation was dangerous and anarchist in 
 tendency, fomenting discontent without a pro- 
 gramme for its satisfaction. Having a great re- 
 spect for her honesty, they were hard put to it 
 to know what to do with her, and she was finally 
 sentenced to be sent for a year to a home for 
 neurasthenics, "where she would be able to read 
 and write and recover her normality." That the 
 Communists were right in fearing this agitation 
 was proved by the troubles in Petrograd, where 
 the workmen in some of the factories struck, and 
 passed Left Social Revolutionary resolutions 
 which, so far from showing that they were await- 
 ing reaction and General Judenitch, showed sim- 
 ply that they were discontented and prepared to 
 move to the left. 
 
 198
 
 THE MENSHEVIKS 
 
 The second main group of opposition is domi- 
 nated by the Mensheviks. Their chief leaders are 
 Martov and Dan. Of these two, Martov is by 
 far the cleverer, Dan the more garrulous, being 
 often led away by his own volubility into agita- 
 tion of a kind not approved by his friends. Both 
 are men of very considerable courage. Both are 
 Jews. 
 
 The Mensheviks would like the reintroduction 
 of capitalists, of course much chastened by expe- 
 rience, and properly controlled by themselves. 
 Unlike Spiridonova and her romantic supporters 
 they approved of Chicherin's offer of peace and 
 concessions to the Allies (see page 44). They 
 have even issued an appeal that the Allies should 
 come to an agreement with "Lenin's Government." 
 As may be gathered from their choice of a name 
 for the Soviet Government, they are extremely 
 hostile to it, but they fear worse things, and are 
 consequently a little shy of exploiting as they 
 easily could the dislike of the people for hunger 
 and cold. They fear that agitation on these lines 
 
 199
 
 might well result in anarchy, which would leave 
 the revolution temporarily defenceless against 
 Kolchak, Denikin, Judenitch or any other armed 
 reactionary. Their non-Communist enemies say 
 of the Mensheviks: "They have no constructive 
 programme; they would like a bourgeois govern- 
 ment back again, in order that they might be in 
 opposition to it, on the left." 
 
 On March 2nd, I went to an election meeting 
 of workers and officials of the Moscow Co-opera- 
 tives. It was beastly cold in the hall of the Uni- 
 versity where the meeting was held, and my nose 
 froze as well as my feet. Speakers were an- 
 nounced from the Communists, Internationalists, 
 Mensheviks, and Right Social Revolutionaries. 
 The last-named did not arrive. The Presidium 
 was for the most part non-Communist, and the 
 meeting was about equally divided for and against 
 the Communists. A Communist led off with a 
 very bad speech on the general European situation 
 and to the effect that there was no salvation for 
 Russia except by the way she was going. Lozov- 
 sky, ( the old Internationalist, spoke next, support- 
 ing the Bolsheviks' general policy but criticizing 
 
 200
 
 their suppression of the press. Then came Dan, 
 the Menshevik, to hear whom I had come. He is 
 a little, sanguine man, who gets very hot as he 
 speaks. He conducted an attack on the whole 
 Bolshevik position combined with a declaration 
 that so long as they are attacked from without he 
 is prepared to support them. The gist of his 
 speech was: i. He was in favour of fighting 
 Kolchak. 2. But the Bolshevik policy with re- 
 gard to the peasants will, since as the army grows 
 it must contain more and more peasants, end in the 
 creation of an army with counter-revolutionary 
 sympathies. 3. He objected to the Bolshevik 
 criticism of the Berne delegation (see page 156) 
 on very curious grounds, saying that though 
 Thomas, Henderson, etc., backed their own Impe- 
 rialists during the war, all that was now over, and 
 that union with them would help, not hinder, revo- 
 lution in England and France. 4. He pointed 
 out that "All power to the Soviets" now means 
 "All power to the Bolsheviks," and said that he 
 wished that the Soviets should actually have all 
 power instead of merely supporting the Bolshevik 
 bureaucracy. He was asked for his own pro- 
 
 201
 
 gramme, but said he had not time to give it. I 
 watched the applause carefully. General dissatis- 
 faction with the present state of affairs was obvi- 
 ous, but it was also obvious that no party would 
 have a chance that admitted its aim was extinction 
 of the Soviets (which Dan's ultimate aim certainly 
 is, or at least the changing of them into non-politi- 
 cal industrial organizations) or that was not pre- 
 pared to fight against reaction from without. 
 
 I went to see Sukhanov (the friend of Gorky 
 and Martov, though his political opinions do not 
 precisely agree with those of either), partly to get 
 the proofs of his first volume of reminiscences of 
 the revolution, partly to hear what he had to say. 
 I found him muffled up in a dressing-gown or 
 overcoat in an unheated flat, sitting down to tea 
 with no sugar, very little bread, a little sausage and 
 a surprising scrap of butter, brought in, I suppose, 
 from the country by a friend. Nikitsky, a Men- 
 shevik, was also there, a hopeless figure, prophesy- 
 ing the rotting of the whole system and of the revo- 
 lution. Sukhanov asked me if I had noticed the 
 disappearance of all spoons (there are now none 
 but wooden spoons in the Metropole) as a symbol' 
 
 202
 
 of the falling to pieces of the revolution. I told 
 him that though I had not lived in Russia thirty 
 years or more, as he had, I had yet lived there long 
 enough and had, before the revolution, sufficient 
 experience in the loss of fishing tackle, not to be 
 surprised that Russian peasants, even delegates, 
 when able, as in such a moment of convulsion as 
 the revolution, stole spoons if only as souvenirs 
 to show that they had really been to Moscow. 
 
 We talked, of course, of their attitude towards 
 the Bolsheviks. Both work in Soviet institutions. 
 Sukhanov (Nikitsky agreeing) believed that if the 
 Bolsheviks came further to meet the other parties, 
 Mensheviks, etc., "Kolchak and Denikin would 
 commit suicide and your Lloyd George would give 
 up all thought of intervention." I asked, What 
 if they should be told to hold a Constituent Assem- 
 bly or submit to a continuance of the blockade 4 ? 
 Sukhanov said, "Such a Constituent Assembly 
 would be impossible, and we should be against it." 
 Of the Soviets, one or other said, "We stand abso- 
 lutely on the platform of the Soviet Government 
 now: but we think that such a form cannot be 
 permanent. We consider the Soviets perfect iix- 
 
 203
 
 struments of class struggle, but not a perfect form 
 of government." I asked Sukhanov if he thought 
 counter revolution possible. He said "No," but 
 admitted that there was a danger lest the agitation 
 of the Mensheviks or others might set fire to the 
 discontent of the masses against the actual physi- 
 cal conditions, and end in pogroms destroying Bol- 
 sheviks and Mensheviks alike. Their general the- 
 ory was that Russia was not so far developed that 
 a Socialist State was at present possible. They 
 therefore wanted a state in which private capital 
 should exist, and in which factories were not run 
 by the state but by individual owners. They be- 
 lieved that the peasants, with their instincts of 
 small property-holders, would eventually enforce 
 something of the kind, and that the end would be 
 some form of democratic Republic. These two 
 were against the offering of concessions to the 
 Allies, on the ground that those under considera- 
 tion involved the handing over to the concession- 
 aires of the whole power in northern Russia 
 railways, forests, the right to set up their own 
 banks in the towns served by the railway, with all 
 that this implied. Sukhanov was against conces- 
 
 204
 
 sions on principle, and regretted that the Menshe- 
 viks were in favour of them. 
 
 I saw Martov at the offices of his newspaper, 
 which had just been suppressed on account of an 
 article, which he admitted was a little indiscreet, 
 objecting to the upkeep of the Red Army (see page 
 167). He pointed eloquently to the seal on some 
 of the doors, but told me that he had started a new 
 paper, of which he showed me the first number, 
 and told me that the demand for it was such that 
 although he had intended that it should be a 
 weekly he now expected to make it a daily. Mar- 
 tov said that he and his party were against every 
 form of intervention for the following reasons: 
 1. The continuation of hostilities, the need of an 
 army and of active defence were bound to inten- 
 sify the least desirable qualities of the revolution, 
 whereas an agreement, by lessening the tension, 
 would certainly lead to moderation of Bolshevik 
 policy. 2. The needs of the army overwhelmed 
 every effort at restoring the economic life of the 
 country. He was further convinced that inter- 
 vention of any kind favoured reaction, even sup- 
 posing that the Allies did not wish this. "They 
 
 205
 
 cannot help themselves," he said, "the forces that 
 would support intervention must be dominated by 
 those of reaction, since all of the non-reactionary 
 parties are prepared to sink their differences with 
 the Bolsheviks, in order to defend the revolution 
 as a whole." He said he was convinced that the 
 Bolsheviks would either have to alter or go. He 
 read me, in illustration of this, a letter from a 
 peasant showing the unreadiness of the peasantry 
 to go into communes (compulsion in this matter 
 has already been discarded by the Central Govern- 
 ment). "We took the land," wrote the peasant 
 in some such words, "not much, just as much as we 
 could work, we ploughed it where it had not been 
 ploughed before, and now, if it is made into a com- 
 mune, other lazy fellows who have done nothing 
 will come in and profit by our work." Martov 
 argued that life itself, the needs of the country and 
 the will of the peasant masses, would lead to the 
 changes he 'thinks desirable in the S6viet regime. 
 
 THE RIGHT SOCIAL REVOLUTIONARIES 
 
 The position of the Right Social Revolution- 
 aries is a good deal more complicated than that of 
 
 206
 
 the Mensheviks. In their later declarations they 
 are as far from their romantic anarchist left wing 
 as they are from their romantic reactionary ex- 
 treme right. They stand, as they have always 
 stood, for a Constituent Assembly, but they have 
 thrown over the idea of instituting a Constituent 
 Assembly by force. They have come into closer 
 contact with the Allies than any other party to the 
 left of the Cadets. By doing so, by associating 
 themselves with the Czech forces on the Volga 
 and minor revolts of a reactionary character inside 
 Russia, they have pretty badly compromised them- 
 selves. Their change of attitude towards the 
 Soviet Government must not be attributed to any 
 change in their own programme, but to the realiza- 
 tion that the forces which they imagined were sup- 
 porting them were actually being used to support 
 something a great deal further right. The Print- 
 ers' Gazette, a non-Bolshevik organ, printed one 
 of their resolutions, one point of which demands 
 the overthrow of the reactionary governments sup- 
 ported by the Allies or the Germans, and another 
 condemns every attempt to overthrow the Soviet 
 Government by force of arms, on the ground that 
 
 207
 
 such an attempt would weaken the working class 
 as a whole and would be used by the reactionary 
 groups for their own purposes. 
 
 Volsky is a Right Social Revolutionary, and was 
 President of that Conference of Members of the 
 Constituent Assembly from whose hands the Di- 
 rectorate which ruled in Siberia received its au- 
 thority and Admiral Kolchak his command, his 
 proper title being Commander of the Forces of the 
 Constituent Assembly. The Constituent Assem- 
 bly members were to have met on January ist of 
 this year, then to retake authority from the Di- 
 rectorate and organize a government on an All- 
 Russian basis. But there was continual friction 
 between the Directorate and the Conference of 
 members of the Constituent Assembly, the Di- 
 rectorate being more reactionary than they. In 
 November came Kolchak's coup d'etat, followed 
 by a declaration against him and an appeal for 
 his overthrow issued by members of the Con- 
 stituent Assembly. Some were arrested by a 
 group of officers. A few are said to have been 
 killed. Kolchak, I think, has denied respon- 
 sibility for this, and probably was unaware of 
 
 208
 
 the intentions of the reactionaries under his 
 command. Others of the members escaped to 
 Ufa. On December 5th, 25 days before that 
 town was taken by the Bolsheviks, they an- 
 nounced their intention of no longer opposing the 
 Soviet Government in the field. After the cap- 
 ture of the town by the Soviet troops, negotiations 
 were begun between the representatives of the 
 Conference of Members of the Constituent Assem- 
 bly, together with other Right Social Revolution- 
 aries, and representatives of the Soviet Govern- 
 ment, with a view to finding a basis for agreement. 
 The result of those negotiations was the resolution 
 passed by the Executive Committee on February 
 26th (see page 166). A delegation of the mem- 
 bers came to Moscow, and were quaintly housed 
 in a huge room in the Metropole, where they had 
 put up beds all round the walls and big tables in 
 the middle of the room for their deliberations. It 
 was in this room that I saw Volsky first, and after- 
 wards in my own. 
 
 I asked him what exactly had brought him and 
 all that he represented over from the side of Kol- 
 chak and the Allies to the side of the Soviet Gov- 
 
 209
 
 ernment. He looked me straight in the face, and 
 said: "I'll tell you. We were convinced by 
 many facts that the policy of the Allied representa- 
 tives in Siberia was directed not to strengthening 
 the Constituent Assembly against the Bolsheviks 
 and the Germans, but simply to strengthening the 
 reactionary forces behind our backs." 
 
 He also complained: "All through last sum- 
 mer we were holding that front with the Czechs, 
 being told that there were two divisions of Ger- 
 mans advancing to attack us, and we now know 
 that there were no German troops in Russia 
 at all." 
 
 He criticized the Bolsheviks for being better 
 makers of programmes than organizers. They 
 offered free electricity, and presently had to admit 
 that soon there would be no electricity for lack of 
 fuel. They did not sufficiently base their policy 
 on the study of actual possibilities. "But that 
 ,they are really fighting against a bourgeois dicta- 
 torship is clear to us. We are, therefore, prepared 
 to help them in every possible way." 
 
 He said, further: "Intervention of any kind 
 210
 
 will prolong the regime of the Bolsheviks by com- 
 pelling us to drop opposition to the Soviet Govern- 
 ment, although we do not like it, and to support it 
 because it is defending the revolution." 
 
 With regard to help given to individual groups 
 or governments fighting against Soviet Russia, 
 Volsky said that they saw no difference between 
 such intervention and intervention in the form of 
 sending troops. 
 
 I asked what he thought would happen. He 
 answered in almost the same words as those used 
 by Martov, that life itself would compel the Bol- 
 sheviks to alter their policy or to go. Sooner or 
 later the peasants would make their will felt, and 
 they were against the bourgeoisie and against the 
 Bolsheviks. No bourgeois reaction could win per- 
 manently against the Soviet, because it could have 
 nothing to offer, no idea for which people would 
 fight. If by any chance Kolchak, Denikin and 
 Co. were to win, they would have to kill in tens 
 of thousands where the Bolsheviks have had to kill 
 in hundreds, and the result would be the complete 
 ruin and the collapse of Russia in anarchy. "Has 
 
 211
 
 not the Ukraine been enough to teach the Allies 
 that even six months' occupation of non-Bolshevik 
 territory by half a million troops has merely the 
 effect of turning the population into Bolsheviks?" 
 
 212
 
 THE THIRD INTERNATIONAL 
 
 March 3rd. 
 
 ONE day near the end of February, Bucharin, 
 hearing that I meant to leave quite soon, said 
 rather mysteriously, "Wait a few days longer, be- 
 cause something of international importance is 
 going to happen which will certainly be of interest 
 for your history." That was the only hint I got of 
 the preparation of the Third International. Bu- 
 charin refused to say more. On March 3rd Rein- 
 stein looked in about nine in the morning and said 
 he had got me a guest's ticket for the conference in 
 the Kremlin, and wondered why I had not been 
 there the day before, when it had opened. I told 
 him I knew nothing whatever about it; Litvinov 
 and Karakhan, whom I had seen quite recently, 
 had never mentioned it, and guessing that this 
 must be the secret at which Bucharin had hinted, 
 I supposed that they had purposely kept silence. 
 
 213
 
 I therefore rang up Litvinov, and asked if they 
 had had any reason against my going. He said 
 that he had thought it would not interest me. So 
 I went. The Conference was still a secret. 
 There was nothing about it in the morning papers. 
 The meeting was in a smallish room, with a dais 
 at one end, in the old Courts of Justice built in the 
 time of Catherine the Second, who would certainly 
 have turned in her grave if she had known the use 
 to which it was being put. Two very smart sol- 
 diers of the Red Army were guarding the doors. 
 The whole room, including the floor, was deco- 
 rated in red. There were banners with "Long 
 Live the Third International" inscribed upon them 
 in many languages. The Prsesidium was on the 
 raised dais at the end of the room, Lenin sitting in 
 the middle behind a long red-covered table with 
 Albrecht, a young German Spartacist, on the right 
 and Flatten, the Swiss, on the left. The audito- 
 rium sloped down to the foot of the dais. Chairs 
 were arranged on each side of an alleyway down 
 the middle, and the four or five front rows had 
 little tables for convenience in writing. Every- 
 body of importance was there ; Trotzky, Zinoviev, 
 
 214
 
 Kamenev, Chicherin, Bucharin, Karakhan, Lit- 
 vinov, Vorovsky, Steklov, Rakovsky, representing 
 here the Balkan Socialist Party, Skripnik, repre- 
 senting the Ukraine. Then there were Stang 
 (Norwegian Left Socialists^ Grimlund (Swedish 
 Left), Sadoul (France), Finberg (British Social- 
 ist Party), Reinstein (American Socialist Labour 
 Party), a Turk, a German-Austrian, a Chinese, 
 and so on. Business was conducted and speeches 
 were made in all languages, though where possible 
 German was used, because more of the foreigners 
 knew German than knew French. This was un- 
 lucky for me. 
 
 When I got there people were making reports 
 about the situation in the different countries. 
 Finberg spoke in English, Rakovsky in French, 
 Sadoul also. Skripnik, who, being asked, refused 
 to talk German and said he would speak in either 
 Ukrainian or Russia, and to most people's relief 
 chose the latter, made several interesting points 
 about the new revolution in the Ukraine. The 
 killing of the leaders under the Skoropadsky re- 
 gime had made no difference to the movement, 
 and town after town was falling after internal 
 
 215
 
 revolt. (This was before they had Kiev and, of 
 course, long before they had taken Odessa, both 
 of which gains they confidently prophesied. ) The 
 sharp lesson of German occupation had taught the 
 .Ukrainian Social Revolutionaries what their expe- 
 riences during the last fifteen months had taught 
 the Russian, and all parties were working to- 
 gether. 
 
 But the real interest of the gathering was in its 
 attitude towards the Berne conference. Many 
 letters had been received from members of that 
 conference, Longuet for example, wishing that the 
 Communists had been represented there, and the 
 view taken at 'Moscow was that the left wing at 
 Berne was feeling uncomfortable at sitting down 
 with Scheidemann and Company; let them defi- 
 nitely break with them, finish with the Second 
 International and join the Third. It was clear 
 that this gathering in the Kremlin was meant as the 
 nucleus of a new International opposed to that 
 which had split into national groups, each sup- 
 porting its own government in the prosecution of 
 the war. That was the leit motif of the whole 
 affair. 
 
 216
 
 Trotsky, in a leather coat, military breeches and 
 gaiters, with a fur hat with the sign of the Red 
 Army in front, was looking very well, but a strange 
 figure for those who had known him as one of the 
 greatest anti-militarists in Europe. Lenin sat 
 quietly listening, speaking when necessary in al- 
 most every European language with astonishing 
 ease. Balabanova talked about Italy and seemed 
 happy at last, even in Soviet Russia, to be once 
 more in a "secret meeting." It was really an 
 extraordinary affair and, in spite of some childish- 
 ness, I could not 'help realizing that I was present 
 at something that will go down in the histories of 
 socialism, much like that other strange meeting 
 convened in London in 1848. 
 
 The vital figures of the conference, not counting 
 Flatten, whom I do not know and on whom I can 
 express no opinion, were Lenin and the young 
 German, Albrecht, who, fired no doubt by the 
 events actually taking place in his country, spoke 
 with brain and character. The German Austrian 
 also seemed a real man. Rakovsky, Skripnik, and 
 Sirola the Finn really represented something. 
 But there was a make-believe side to the whole 
 
 217
 
 affair, in which the English Left Socialists were 
 represented by Finberg, and the Americans by 
 Reinstein, neither of whom had or was likely to 
 have any means of communicating with his con- 
 stituents. 
 
 March 4th. 
 
 In the Kremlin they were discussing the pro- 
 gramme on which the new International was to 
 stand. This is, of course, dictatorship of the pro- 
 letariat and all that that implies. I heard Lenin 
 make a long speech, the main point of which was 
 to show that Kautsky and his supporters at Berne 
 were now condemning the very tactics which they 
 had praised in 1906. When I was leaving the 
 Kremlin I met Sirola walking in the square out- 
 side the building without a hat, without a coat, in 
 a cold so intense that I was putting snow on my 
 nose to prevent frost-bite. I exclaimed. Sirola 
 smiled his ingenuous smile. "It is March," he 
 said, "Spring is coming." 
 
 March 5th. 
 
 To-day all secrecy was dropped, a little prema- 
 218
 
 turely, I fancy, for when I got to the Kremlin I 
 found that the first note of opposition had been 
 struck by the man who least of all was expected to 
 strike it. Albrecht, the young German, had op- 
 posed the immediate founding of the Third Inter- 
 national, on the double ground that not all nations 
 were properly represented and that it might make 
 difficulties for the political parties concerned in 
 their own countries. Every one was against him. 
 Rakovsky pointed out that the same objections 
 could have been raised against the founding of the 
 First International by Marx in London. The 
 German-Austrian combated Albrecht's second 
 point. Other people said that the different parties 
 concerned had long ago definitely broken with the 
 Second International. Albrecht was in a minority 
 of one. It was decided therefore that this confer- 
 ence was actually the Third International. Plat- 
 ten announced the decision, and the "Interna- 
 tional" was sung in a dozen languages at once. 
 Then Albrecht stood up, a little red in the face, 
 and said that he, of course, recognized the decision 
 and would announce it in Germany. 
 
 219
 
 March 6th. 
 
 The conference in the Kremlin ended with the 
 usual singing and a photograph. Some time be- 
 fore the end, when Trotsky had just finished speak- 
 ing and had left the tribune, there was a squeal of 
 protest from the photographer who had just 
 trained his apparatus. Some one remarked "The 
 Dictatorship of the Photographer," and, amid 
 general laughter, Trotsky had to return to the 
 tribune and stand silent while the unabashed pho- 
 tographer took two pictures. The founding of the 
 Third International had been proclaimed in the 
 morning papers, and an extraordinary meeting in 
 the Great Theatre announced for the evening. I 
 got to the theatre at about five, and had difficulty 
 in getting in, though I had a special ticket as a 
 correspondent. There were queues outside all the 
 doors. The Moscow Soviet was there, the Execu- 
 tive Committee, representatives of the Trades 
 Unions and the Factory Committees, etc. The 
 huge theatre and the platform were crammed, peo- 
 ple standing in the aisles and even packed close 
 together in the wings of the stage. Kamenev 
 opened the meeting by a solemn announcement of 
 
 220
 
 the founding of the Third International in the 
 Kremlin. There was a roar of applause from the 
 audience, which rose and sang the "International" 
 in a way that I have never heard it sung since the 
 All-Russian Assembly when the news came of the 
 strikes in Germany during the Brest negotiations. 
 Kamenev then spoke of those who had died on the 
 way, mentioning Liebknecht and Rosa Luxem- 
 bourg, and the whole theatre stood again while the 
 orchestra played, "You fell as victims." Then 
 Lenin spoke. If I had ever thought that Lenin 
 was losing his personal popularity, I got my answer 
 now. It was a long time before he could speak at 
 all, everybody standing and drowning his attempts 
 to speak with roar after roar of applause. It was 
 an extraordinary, overwhelming scene, tier after 
 tier crammed with workmen, the parterre filled, 
 the whole platform and the wings. A knot of 
 workwomen were close to me, and they almost 
 fought to see him, and shouted as if each one were 
 determined that he should hear her in particular. 
 He spoke as usual, in the simplest way, emphasiz- 
 ing the fact that the revolutionary struggle every- 
 where was forced to use the Soviet forms. "We 
 
 221
 
 declare our solidarity with the aims of the Soviet- 
 ists," he read from an Italian paper, and added, 
 "and that was when they did not know what our 
 aims were, and before we had an established pro- 
 gramme ourselves." Albrecht made a very long 
 reasoned speech for Spartacus, which was trans- 
 lated by Trotsky. Guilbeau, seemingly a mere 
 child, spoke of the socialist movement in France. 
 Steklov was translating him when I left. You 
 must remember that I had had nearly two years of 
 such meetings, and am not a Russian. When I 
 got outside the theatre, I found at each door a 
 disappointed crowd that had been unable to get in. 
 
 The proceedings finished up next day with a re- 
 view in the Red Square and a general holiday. 
 
 If the Berne delegates had come, as they were 
 expected, they would have been told by the Com- 
 munists that they were welcome visitors, but that 
 they were not regarded as representing the Inter- 
 national. There would then have ensued a 
 lively battle over each one of the delegates, the 
 Mensheviks urging him to stick to Berne, and the 
 Communists urging him to express allegiance to 
 the Kremlin. There would have been demonstra- 
 
 222
 
 tions and counter-demonstrations, and altogether 
 I am very sorry that it did not happen and that I 
 was not there to see.
 
 LAST TALK WITH LENIN 
 
 I WENT to see Lenin the day after the Review in 
 the Red Square, and the general holiday in honour 
 of the Third International. The first thing he 
 said was : "I am afraid that the Jingoes in Eng- 
 land and France will make use of yesterday's do- 
 ings as an excuse for further action against us. 
 They will say 'How can we leave them in peace 
 when they set about setting the world on fire*?' 
 To that I would answer, 'We are at war, Mes- 
 sieurs! And just as during your war you tried to 
 make revolution in Germany, and Germany did 
 her best to make trouble in Ireland and India, so 
 we, while we are at war with you, adopt the meas- 
 ures that are open to us. We have told you we 
 are willing to make peace.' " 
 
 He spoke of Chicherin's last note, and said they 
 based all their hopes on it. Balfour had said 
 somewhere, "Let the fire burn itself out." That it 
 
 224
 
 would not do. But the quickest way of restoring 
 good conditions in Russia was, of course, peace 
 and agreement with the Allies. "I am sure we 
 could come to terms, if they want to come to terms 
 at all. England and America would be willing, 
 perhaps, if their hands were not tied by France. 
 But intervention in the large sense can now hardly 
 be. They must have learnt that Russia could 
 never be governed as India is governed, and that 
 sending troops here is the same thing as sending 
 them to a Communist University." 
 
 I said something about the general hostility to 
 their propaganda noticeable in foreign countries. 
 
 Lenin. "Tell them to build a Chinese wall 
 round each of their countries. They have their 
 customs-officers, their frontiers, their coast-guards. 
 They can expel any Bolsheviks they wish. Revo- 
 lution does not depend on propaganda. If the 
 conditions of revolution are not there no sort of 
 propaganda will either hasten or impede it. The 
 war has brought about those conditions in all coun- 
 tries, and I am convinced that if Russia to-day 
 were to be swallowed up by the sea, were to cease 
 to exist altogether, the revolution in the rest of 
 
 225
 
 Europe would go on. Put Russia under water for 
 twenty years, and you would not affect by a shill- 
 ing or an hour a week the demands of the shop- 
 stewards in England." 
 
 I told him, what I have told most of them many 
 times, that I did not believe there would be a revo- 
 lution in England. 
 
 Lenin. "We have a saying that a man may 
 have typhoid while still on his legs. Twenty, 
 maybe thirty years ago I had abortive typhoid, 
 and was going about with it, had had it some 
 days before it knocked me over. Well, England 
 and France and Italy have caught the disease al- 
 ready. England may seem to you to be un- 
 touched, but the microbe is already there." 
 
 I said that just as his typhoid was abortive ty- 
 phoid, so the disturbances in England to which he 
 alluded might well be abortive revolution, and 
 come to nothing. I told him the vague, discon- 
 nected character of the strikes and the generally 
 liberal as opposed to socialist character of the 
 movement, so far as it was political at all, re- 
 minded me of what I had heard of 1905 in Russia 
 
 226
 
 and not at all of 1917, and that I was sure it 
 would settle down. 
 
 Lenin. "Yes, that is possible. It is, perhaps, 
 an educative period, in which the English workmen 
 will come to realize their political needs, and turn 
 from liberalism to socialism. Socialism is cer- 
 tainly weak in England. Your socialist move- 
 ments, your socialist parties ... when I was in 
 England I zealously attended everything I could, 
 and for a country with so large an industrial popu- 
 lation they were pitiable, pitiable ... a handful 
 at a street corner ... a meeting in a drawing 
 oom ... a school class . . . pitiable. But you 
 must remember one great difference between Rus- 
 sia of 1905 and England of to-day. Our first 
 Soviet in Russia was made during the revolution. 
 Your shop-stewards committees have been in 
 existence long before. They are without pro- 
 gramme, without direction, but the opposition they 
 will meet will force a programme upon them." 
 
 Speaking of the expected visit of the Berne dele- 
 gation, he asked me if I knew MacDonald, whose 
 . name had been substituted for that of Henderson 
 
 227
 
 in later telegrams announcing their coming. He 
 said : "I am very glad MacDonald is coming in- 
 stead of Henderson. Of course MacDonald is not 
 a Marxist in any sense of the word, but he is at 
 least interested in theory, and can therefore be 
 trusted to do his best to understand what is hap- 
 pening here. More than that we do not ask." 
 
 We then talked a little on a subject that inter- 
 ests me very much, namely, the way in which in- 
 sensibly, quite apart from war, the Communist 
 theories are being modified in the difficult process 
 of their translation into practice. We talked of 
 the changes in "workers' control," which is now a 
 very different thing from the wild committee busi- 
 ness that at first made work almost impossible. 
 We talked then of the antipathy of the peasants to 
 compulsory communism, and how that idea also 
 had been considerably whittled away. I asked 
 him what were going to be the relations between 
 the Communists of the towns and the property- 
 loving peasants, and whether there was not great 
 danger 01 antipathy between them, and said I re- 
 gretted leaving too soon to see the elasticity of 
 
 228
 
 the Communist theories tested by the inevitable 
 pressure of the peasantry. 
 
 Lenin said that in Russia there was a pretty 
 sharp distinction between the rich peasants and the 
 poor. "The only opposition we have here in Rus- 
 sia is directly or indirectly due to the rich peasants. 
 The poor, as soon as they are liberated from the 
 political domination of the rich, are on our side 
 and are in an enormous majority." 
 
 I said that would not be so in the Ukraine, where 
 property among the peasants is much more equally 
 distributed. 
 
 Lenin. "No. And there, in the Ukraine, you 
 will certainly see our policy modified. Civil war, 
 whatever happens, is likely to be more bitter in 
 the Ukraine than elsewhere, because there the in- 
 stinct of property has been further developed in 
 the peasantry, and the minority and majority will 
 be more equal." 
 
 He asked me if I meant to return, saying that I 
 could go down to Kiev to watch the revolution 
 there as I had watched it in Moscow. I said I 
 should be very sorry to think that this was my last 
 
 229
 
 visit to the country which I love only second to my 
 own. He laughed, and paid me the compliment 
 of saying that, "although English," I had more or 
 less succeeded in understanding what they were at, 
 and that he should be pleased to see me again. 
 
 \RY 
 
 " 330 C- 
 VANCOUVER, B. C?
 
 THE JOURNEY OUT 
 
 March 15'th. 
 
 THERE is nothing to record about the last few days 
 of my visit, fully occupied as they were with the 
 collection and packing of printed material and 
 preparations for departure. I left with the two 
 Americans, Messrs. Bullitt and Steffens, who had 
 come to Moscow some days previously, and trav- 
 elled up in the train with Bill Shatov, the Com- 
 mandant of Petrograd, who is not a Bolshevik but 
 a fervent admirer of Prince Kropotkin, for the dis- 
 tribution of whose works in Russia he has probably 
 done as much as any man. Shatov was an emigre 
 in New York, returned to Russia, brought law and 
 order into the chaos of the Petrograd-Moscow rail- 
 way, never lost a chance of doing a good turn to an 
 American, and with his level-headedness and prac- 
 tical sense became one of the hardest worked serv- 
 ants of the Soviet, although, as he said, the mo- 
 
 231
 
 mcnt people stopped attacking them he would be 
 the first to pull down the Bolsheviks. He went 
 into the occupied provinces during the German 
 evacuation of them, to buy arms and ammunition 
 from the German soldiers. Prices, he said, ran 
 low. You could buy rifles for a mark each, field 
 guns for 1 50 marks, and a field wireless station for 
 500. He had then been made Commandant of 
 Petrograd, although there had been some talk of 
 setting him to reorganize transport. Asked how 
 long he thought the Soviet Government could hold 
 out, he replied, "We can afford to starve another 
 year for the sake of the Revolution." 
 
 THE END 
 
 
 232
 
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