In the beginning of August I proceeded to Minsk and took General Markov as Chief-of-Staff of the Front. I had no regrets in leaving the Stavka. For two months I had worked like a slave and my outlook had widened, but had I achieved anything for the preservation of the Army? Positive results were nil. There may have been some negative results; the process of disruption of the Army had been to a certain extent stayed. And that is all. One of Kerensky’s assistants, afterwards High Commissar, Stankevitch, thus describes my activities: “Nearly every week telegrams were sent to Petrograd (by Deniken) containing provocative and harsh criticisms on the new methods in the Army; criticisms they were, not advice. Is it possible to advise that the Revolution should be cancelled.” If that was only Stankevitch discussing Denikin it would not matter. But these views were shared by the wide circles of the Revolutionary Democracy and referred not to the individual, but to all those who “impersonated the tragedy of the Russian Army.” The appreciation must therefore be answered.
Yes, the Revolution could not be cancelled, and what is more, I may state that the majority of the Russian officers, with whom I agreed, did not wish to cancel the Revolution. They demanded one thing only—that the Army should not be revolutionised from the top. None of us could give any other advice. And if the Commanding Staffs appeared to be “insufficiently tied to the Revolution” they should have been mercilessly dismissed and other people—were they but unskilled artisans in military matters—should have been appointed, and given full power and confidence.
Personalities do not matter. Alexeiev, Brussilov, Kornilov—represent periods and systems. Alexeiev protested. Brussilov submitted. Kornilov claimed. In dismissing these men one after another did the Provisional Government have a definite idea, or were they simply distracted to the point of convulsion and completely lost in the morass of their own internal dissensions? Would it not appear that had the order been changed in which the links had stood in that chain salvation might have ensued?
[CHAPTER XXVII.]
My Term as Commander-in-Chief on the Western Russian Front.
I took over the Command from General Gourko. His removal had already been decided on May 5th, and an Order of the Day had been drafted at the War Ministry. Gourko, however, sent a report in which he stated that it was impossible for him to remain morally responsible for the armies under his command in the present circumstances (after the “Declaration of the Soldier’s Rights” had been issued). This report afforded Kerensky an excuse for issuing on May 26th an order relieving Gourko of his post and appointing him to the command of a division. The motive was adduced that Gourko was “not up to the mark,” and that “as the country was in danger, every soldier should do his duty and not be an example of weakness to others.” Also that “the Commander-in-Chief enjoys the full confidence of the Government, and should apply all his energies to the task of carrying out the intentions of the Government; to decline to bear the moral responsibility was on General Gourko’s part tantamount to dereliction of duty, which he should have continued to perform according to his strength and judgment.” Not to speak of the fact that Gourko’s dismissal had already been decided, suffice it to recall similar instances, such as the resignations of Gutchkov and Miliukov, in order to realise the hypocrisy of these excuses. And what is more—Kerensky himself, during one of the Government crises caused by the uncompromising attitude of the “Revolutionary Democracy,” had threatened to resign, and had stated in writing to his would-be successor, Nekrassov, that: “Owing to the impossibility of introducing into the Government such elements as were required in the present exceptional circumstances, he could no longer bear the responsibility before the country according to his conscience and judgment, and requested therefore to be relieved of all his duties.” The papers said that he had “departed from Petrograd.” On October 28th, as we know, Kerensky fled, abandoning the post of Supreme Commander-in-Chief.
The old Commanding Staffs were in a difficult position. I refer not to men of definite political convictions, but of the average honest soldier. They could not follow Kerensky (the system, not the man) and destroy with their own hands the edifice which they had themselves spent their lives in building. They could not resign because the enemy was on Russian soil and they would be deserters according to their own conscience. It was a vicious circle.
Upon my arrival at Minsk I addressed two large gatherings of members of the Staff and departments of the Front, and later the Army Commanders, and expounded my fundamental views. I did not say much, but stated clearly that I accepted the Revolution without any reservations. I considered, however, that to “revolutionise” the Army was a fatal procedure, and that to introduce demagogy into the Army would mean the ruin of the Country. I declared that I would oppose it with all my might and invited my collaborators to do the same. I received a letter from General Alexeiev, who wrote: “Congratulations on your appointment. Rouse them! Make your demands calmly but persistently. I trust that the revival will come without coaxing, without red ribbons, without sonorous and empty phrases. The Army cannot continue as it is now, for Russia is being transformed into a multitude of idlers who have an exaggerated idea of their own importance (value their movements in gold). I am in heart and in thought with you, with your work and with your wishes. God help you.”
The Committee of the Front impersonated at Minsk “Military Politics.” On the eve of my arrival that semi-Bolshevik organisation had passed a resolution protesting against an advance and in favour of the struggle of united democracies against their Governments; this naturally helped to define my attitude towards that body. I had no direct intercourse with the Committee, which “stewed in its own juice,” argued the matter of preponderant influences of the Social Democratic and Social Revolutionary factions, passed resolutions which puzzled even the Army Committees by their demagogic contents, distributed defeatist pamphlets, and incensed the men against their chiefs. According to the law, the Committees were not responsible and could not be tried. The Committee was educating in the same sense the pupils of the “school for agitators,” who were afterwards to spread these doctrines along the Front. I will quote one instance showing the real meaning of these manifestations “of civic indignation and sorrow.” Pupils of the school often appealed to the Chief-of-Staff and sent in “demands.” On one occasion the demand for an extra pair of boots was couched in offensive terms. General Markov refused it. On the next day a resolution was published (in the paper The Front, No. 25) of the Conference of Pupils of the School of Agitators to the effect that they had personally tested the reluctance of Headquarters to take elective organisations into account. The pupils declared that the Committee of the Front will find in them and in those who sent them full support against “counter-revolution,” and even armed assistance.