The Russian Turmoil; Memoirs: Military, Social, and Political

by Anton Ivanovich Denikin

On the whole the Revolutionary Democracy lived in an atmosphere poisoned by the fear of a counter-revolution. All its cares, measures, resolutions and appeals, as well as the disruption of the Army and the abolition of the police in the villages, tended towards a struggle with this imaginary foe, which was supposed to menace the conquests of the revolution. Were the conscious leaders of the Soviet really convinced that such a danger existed, or were they fanning this unfounded fear as a tactical move? I am inclined to accept the second solution, because it was quite obvious, not only to myself, but to the Soviet as well, that the activities of the Democratic Bourgeoisie meant not counter-revolution, but merely opposition. And yet in the Russian partisan press and in wide circles outside Russia it is precisely in the former sense that the pre-November period of the Revolution was interpreted. The Provisional Government proclaimed a broad, Democratic programme upon its formation. In the circles of the Right this programme was criticised and there was discontent; but no active opposition. In the first four or five months after the beginning of the Revolution there was not a single important counter-revolutionary organisation in the country. These organisations became more or less active and other secret circles, especially officers’ circles, were formed in July in connection with the plans for a Dictatorship. There can be no doubt that many people with pronounced tendencies towards a restoration joined these circles. But their main object was to combat the unofficial government, which was a class government, as well as the personnel of the Soviet and the Executive Committee. Had these circles not collapsed prematurely owing to their weakness, numerical insignificance and lack of organisation, some of the members of those institutions might very possibly have been destroyed. While constantly resisting counter-revolution from the Right, the Soviet gave every opportunity for the preparations for a real counter-revolution emanating from its own midst, from the Bolsheviks.

I remember that different persons who came to the Stavka began to discuss the question of a dictatorship and to throw out feelers, as it were, approximately in the beginning of June. All these conversations were stereotyped to such an extent that I have no difficulty in summarising them.

“Russia is moving towards inevitable ruin. The Government is utterly powerless. We must have a strong power. Sooner or later we shall have to come to a Dictatorship.”

Nobody mentioned restoration or a change of policy in a reactionary direction. The names were mentioned of Kornilov and Brussilov. I warned them against hasty decisions. I must confess that we still entertained the illusory hope that the Government—by internal evolution, under the influence of a new, armed demonstration on the part of the anti-National extremist elements towards which they were so lenient—would realise the futility and hopelessness of continuing in their present position and would come to the idea of power vested in one man, which might be achieved in a constitutional manner. The future seemed pregnant with disaster in the absence of a truly lawful power. I pointed out that there were no military leaders enjoying sufficient authority with the demoralised soldiery, but that if a military dictatorship should become necessary for the State and practicable, Kornilov was already very much respected by the officers, whereas Brussilov’s reputation had been injured by his opportunism.

In his book Kerensky says that “Cossack circles and certain politicians” had suggested repeatedly to him that the impotent Government should be replaced by a personal dictatorship. It was only when society was disappointed in him as the “possible organiser and chief agent for altering the system of Government” that “a search began for another individual.”

There can be no doubt that the men and social circles that appealed to Kerensky in the question of a dictatorship were not his apologists and did not belong to the “Revolutionary Democracy,” but the mere fact of their appeal is sufficient proof that their motives could not have been reactionary, and that it reflected the sincere desire of the Russian patriotic elements to see a strong man at the helm in days of storm and strife.

Perhaps there may also have been another motive; there had been a short period, approximately in June, when not only the Russian public, but also the officers had succumbed to the charm of the War Minister’s impassioned oratory and pathos. The Russian officers, who were being sacrificed wholesale, had forgotten and forgiven and were desperately hoping that he would save the Russian Army. And their promise to die in the front line was by no means an empty one. During Kerensky’s visits to the front, it was a painful sight to see these doomed men, their eyes shining with exaltation, and their hearts beating with hope, a hope that was destined to be so bitterly and mercilessly disappointed.

It is to be noted that Kerensky, seeking in his book to justify the temporary “concentration of power” which he assumed on August 27th, says: “In the struggle against the conspiracy conducted by a single will, the State was compelled to set against it a will capable of resolute and quick action. No collective power, much less a Coalition, can possess such a single will.”

I think that the internal condition of the Russian State threatened with a monstrous joint conspiracy of the German General Staff and the anti-national and anti-constitutional elements of the Russian exiles was sufficiently grave to warrant the demand for a strong power “capable of resolute and quick action.”