The revolution was picturesque and full of color. Nearly every morning one could see regiment after regiment, soldiers, Cossacks, and sailors, with their regimental colors, and bands, and revolutionary flags, marching to the Duma to take the new oath of allegiance. They were cheered, they were blessed, handerchiefs were waved, hats were raised, cigarettes were distributed as mark of appreciation and gratitude to these men, without whose help there would have been no revolution. The enthusiasm became so contagious that men and women, young and old, high and low, fell in alongside or behind, joined in the singing of the Marseillaise, and walked to the Duma to take the oath of allegiance and having taken it they felt as purified as if they had partaken of the communion. Another picturesque sight was the army trucks filled with armed soldiers, red handkerchiefs tied to their bayonets, dashing up and down the streets, ostensibly for the purpose of protecting the citizens but really for the mere joy of riding about and being cheered. One of these trucks stands out vividly in my mind: it contained about twenty soldiers, having in their midst a beautiful young woman with a red banner, and a young hoodlum astride the engine, a cigarette in one hand and a sword in the other. The streets were full of people, or "tovarishchi" (comrades), as they called one another, not only the sidewalks but in the very center, for the tramways were not running. Great events were transpiring and every one who could came out to hear and to see what was going on. There were no newspapers and the street was the news center. Automobiles came dashing through scattering proclamations and copies of the Izvestiia (a news-sheet published by a committee of newspaper men with the authority of the Duma); and as the crowd made a rush to pick these up it looked for a moment as if the whole world was walking on its head and feet at the same time. Those who were fortunate enough to seize a paper ran home with it to read it to the family, those who were not gathered around one of the many bonfires, made from the wooden imperial eagles, crowns, and other insignia of royalty, to listen to the reading of the news, usually by a student. The part played by the students during the revolution has not received the attention it deserves. When all others were hiding or excited it was the students who took charge of the leaderless soldiers, found food for them, collected money for their welfare, and told them what to do. It was interesting to watch with what deference the soldiers looked up to them and hung upon their words. This importance was not wholly lost upon the students, both men and women, and they read the proclamations as if they were tablets of law handed down from heaven. After the reading came the discussion. One of the favorite topics was the comparative bloodlessness of the revolution (something like 169 killed and 1264 wounded) which proved that the Russian Revolution was superior to the French or any other. Having started in this vein the discussion turned on the mighty and noble deeds Russia was going to do now. Just as it once freed Europe from the yoke of Napoleon so will it now liberate her from the militarism and barbarism of William and give freedom to all the world, to all nationalities, races, and creeds. The light of the world is to come from Russia. The crowd meant it. The soldiers were in earnest and patriotic—the praise showered upon them and the responsibility placed upon them seemed to uplift them—the man with the hoe became a free citizen and behaved as such. On Wednesday, March 14, the soldiers posted bulletins in different parts of the city calling on their comrades to abstain from liquor and violence and to prevent others from committing lawless deeds. Not satisfied with mere words small companies of militia visited the places where drinks were sold and emptied the barrels and bottles into the gutter. For days the Astoria Hotel looked and smelled like a wrecked saloon after Carrie Nation and her associates had stoned it.
For some time the whereabouts and intentions of the Tsar were unknown and numerous rumors were afloat. Some said that he had committed suicide, that he was in the city, that he was on the way, that he was under arrest, that he had fled the country. Another interesting question was the form of the new government, should it be a republic or a constitutional monarchy. Many of the educated classes and members of the Duma advocated a constitutional monarchy of the English type, while others, particularly the socialistic groups, favored a republic, a democratic republic; whatever they meant by that is not clear. Needless to say the great mass of people did not know the difference between one kind of government and another but they shouted as loudly as those who knew. One soldier demanded a republic like that of England, another insisted on a republic with a tsar at the head, the wife of the porter of the house where I lived cried as if her heart would break because "they wanted a republic," and some of the peasant women in the country clamored for the tsar because "if they take away the tsar they will also take away God and what will then become of the muzhik." In one place at the front several regiments almost came to blows over this question. An orator ended his eloquent speech by saying that "from now on Russia will have but one monarch, the revolutionary proletariat." This phrase puzzled the soldiers, they also misunderstood the word "monarch" which they thought to be "monakh" (monk). They therefore concluded that it was planned to put a monk on the throne, and an argument arose whether they would have a monk or not. Some were in favor and others opposed. By the time it got to the next regiment the question was whether they would have the monk Iliodor as their ruler. It was no longer a question whether Russia was to have a tsar but whether the tsar should be a monk or not, and whether it should be Iliodor or some other one.
Strange to say, as evening came a kind of fear seized the population, particularly the more ignorant. It was difficult for them to shake off the terror of the old police; all the time that they were talking against the tsar they had a feeling that they were doing wrong, and that some one was denouncing them. It was hard for them to believe that all that they saw and heard during the day was real and that the old regime was powerless. Some one would start a rumor that a monarchist general with an army was marching on the city and that he would kill and burn. Early Friday evening, March 16, as I was walking down the street, soldiers ran by me shouting for every one to get under cover for several hundred police from Tsarskoe Selo were coming and that there would be street fighting. Frightened mothers grabbed their little ones and hurried home, storekeepers closed the shops, porters barricaded the gates, housewives extinguished the lights, and the streets became as dark and as silent as a cemetery. This lasted for an hour or more and then came more soldiers announcing that all was well, that the supposed policemen were revolutionary soldiers who had come to take the oath of allegiance.
The exultation reached its highest point when the first temporary government, with Prince Lvov at the head, was announced. Every one was pleased with the men selected, they were without doubt the ablest leaders of the country, men who had always fought for the cause of liberty and for the interests of the public. There was nothing but praise for them and assurances of support. The fact that there was a "pravitelstvo" (government) calmed the people and they gradually went back to their old occupations, but as new men, with broader outlooks and with higher aspirations.
The taking of the oath of office by the new Ministry was the last act of that wonderful week to be unanimously approved by the people. When the temporary government attempted to govern it was interfered with by the Council of Workmen's and Soldiers' Deputies; the cry was raised by the Socialist groups that it was they who had won the revolution and that they, therefore, should have all the power. Since then the country has become more and more divided against itself, love has turned into hate, joy into sorrow.
THE JUGO-SLAV MOVEMENT
By Robert J. Keener
[FN: As used in this paper, the term Jugo-Slav comprehends
the Serbs, Croats, and Slovenes, but not the Bulgars. It is
not necessary here to consider whether the latter are Slavs
or Slavicized Tartars, but merely to point out that since
the Congress of Berlin in 1878, the Bulgars have taken no
part in the movement which has resulted in the creation of
Jugo-Slav nationalism. The word "jug" means "south" in
Slavic. It is also written "youg" and "[iu]g.">[
If there are miracles in history, the Jugo-Slav movement is a miracle. It is the story of a nation which entered its new home in the Balkans in the seventh century and became divided geographically and politically, in faith and written language, and in economic and social life, until at last its spokesmen could truthfully say that it was divided into thirteen separate administrative units dependent upon fifteen legislative bodies. [FN: In 1915 the Slovenes inhabiting Carniola, Carinthia, Styria, Istria, and Goerz-Gradisca, and the Serbo-Croats of Istria and Dalmatia, were under the direct rule of Austria. Trieste and its district were a part of Austria. The Serbs of Hungary belonged to Hungary proper for the most part; the Croats by a fundamental agreement were entitled to autonomy in Croatia. Fiume, the seaport of Croatia and Hungary, had an administration of its own. Bosnia-Herzegovina possessed a diet and was under the dual rule of Austria and Hungary. All the provinces or districts mentioned above were governed by the two parliaments at Vienna and Budapest. There were, in addition, two independent Serb states, Serbia and Montenegro. Down to 1912 Turkey ruled over a large number of Serbs.] How did it come about that this evolution of twelve centuries, beginning with primeval unity and passing through a political, economic, and social decomposition of a most bewildering character, has once more arrived at national unity and is even now demanding the last step—political amalgamation? Is it a doctrine or a dream or is it a reality?