CHAPTER X
PROPAGANDA
In dealing with the Russian Revolution I shall leave on one side those aspects that have already been treated by other writers. Not much has been written on Siberia yet, and what has been given to us is mostly the product of scared journalists, flying for their lives, and generally in far too much of a hurry to verify their facts.
I shall always count myself fortunate that I was let out of my cage in time to see the Revolution before it had grown old. To experience that wonderful burst of joy, which followed the breaking of age-old chains, was the crowning event of my life. The whole nation was feverishly happy, and suddenly alive with hope and confidence for the future. All the mistakes that had crippled Russia’s conduct of the war were attributed to the Czar’s régime, and now that that had passed away, it seemed simple to go straight ahead and win. The soldiers for the first time in the war were full of enthusiasm. They were well paid, the control of their circumstances was largely in their own hands, and, whenever anything displeased them, they were free to complain or remove it. There was a moral earnestness, a self-reliance, and a pathetic eagerness to justify the freedom that they had won, which all combined to give to the Russian soldier for the time being a new character. Inevitably, in writing of these events, my mind goes back to those three wonderful chapters of the “Excursion,” in which Wordsworth describes his experiences in the early days of the French Revolution.
“A people from the depth
Of shameful imbecility arisen,
Fresh as the morning star!...
Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive,
And to be young was very Heaven!”
And if our sympathies have been alienated by the later horrors of the Revolution, the same excuse holds good for Russia that Wordsworth in his hour of blackest despair found for France. These calamities are not due to particular persons, they have been caused by