The practical enthusiasm of the nation was no less marked than the sentimental. The wealthy classes contributed liberally to the various relief funds, and made many sacrifices to help the country in its time of danger. In spite of the inconvenience and dislocation of trade caused by the military preparations, complaints were never heard. The whole nation seemed to have combined in a common determination to see the war through to a successful conclusion.
The gathering of the harvest provided an instance of this practical enthusiasm. Russia being the world’s largest producer of wheat, barley, rye, and oats the matter was a very urgent one. Moreover, Russia is self-supporting, and the failure of the crops would mean the ruin and starvation of thousands during the winter months. Most of the men had been called to the colours, and there was a serious danger of large portions of the crops, especially in the more remote districts, being allowed to rot for lack of labour. The problem was attacked with a practical spirit unusual in the Russian with his Asiatic fatalism. The zemstvos, the military, and the local authorities co-operated in dealing with this problem. Women, boys, and old men were set to work. Tramps and prisoners were forcibly transformed into temporary harvesters. By means of a central bureau in each district it was possible to keep in touch with every farm, no matter how remote, and to ensure that no crops suffered through lack of labour. As a result of these measures the whole harvest was successfully gathered, and the nation was able to face the coming winter with the satisfactory knowledge that, in any event, its food supply was assured.
Perhaps the most remarkable effects of the war on the nation was the complete change which came over its attitude towards the Jews. Partly by reason of ancient religious intolerance and partly because of the fact that the Jews, thanks to the thriftless and unbusinesslike methods of the Russians, have managed to accumulate much of the national wealth, the Judiev hitherto have been regarded with fierce animosity and subjected to pitiless persecution. The story of the pogroms is one of the most hideous chapters in the history of any people. It was fully expected in many quarters that the national enthusiasm engendered by the war should find an outlet in a repetition of these horrors. Vienna indeed was so confident that it officially informed the world that Vilna was the scene of a terrible outbreak of anti-semitism. The report was a lie. The Jews were no longer the best hated race in Russia; that distinction had been wrested from them by the “Nemetz.” Everywhere a new tolerance and a new respect for the Jews was apparent, especially when news came of their heroic deeds at the front. Their enthusiasm for the war and devotion to the Tzar rivalled that of the Russians themselves. A quarter of a million of men—the largest Jewish army ever assembled since the fall of Jerusalem—were with the Tzar’s forces. Throughout the country the Jews set a splendid example in contributing to the relief funds and in removing distress caused by the war. Hence the Jew has become almost popular. Even when, as a mark of Imperial appreciation of their loyalty, ukases were issued relieving them of many of the disadvantages under which they suffered, and practically admitting them to the full citizenship of the Russian Empire, hardly a protesting voice was heard.
Indeed, in many respects, the war has been for Russia a blessing in disguise. It has completed the work of the past few years. On all sides reforms have been effected and a new Russia has emerged. The old ideals and the old standards have passed. But the change has been unconscious, and the Russians, with their chronic fatalism, have not realised they have been taking part in events which have practically transformed the old autocratic regime into one which is almost democratic. Some external shock was needed to rouse the nation to a sense of its new glories. The war provided that shock, and Russia and the world have realised that a new era has dawned in the dominions of the Tzar.
CHAPTER II
Mobilisation
Mobilisation in Russia is an inevitably slow and difficult operation. The circumstances under which it is effected render it almost impossible to reduce it to a matter of automatic precision, as is the case with the German Army. It is typically Russian: rather ponderous and very human. The chances of its being successfully and quickly accomplished are so slight compared with those of its proving an orgy of confusion and disorganisation that nobody, least of all in Russia itself, where businesslike methods are not expected of officials of any sort, dared hope that it would be carried out without a hitch. The Allies were apprehensive, the Kaiser was openly contemptuous and left only second-line troops to guard his eastern frontiers until Russia could extricate her army from the inevitable confusion and be worthy of the attentions of the perfect Teutonic fighting machine.
The German, of course, with his keen materialism, has a reputation for doing these things with an automatic efficiency. The Slav, on the other hand, is of a very different temperament, and the Tzar’s army has acquired, and deserved, a reputation for mismanagement. It is the most human of armies, for certainly there never was one more given to error. The Manchurian campaign was one of the worst muddles of modern times. In comparison, the South African War was a model of efficient management. It was always a case of the wrong thing at the wrong moment: and even when there appeared to be a chance of the right thing happening, corruption or ineptitude stepped in and stultified every effort. Those who happened to be in Russia during that period will remember that hardly a day passed without some fresh instance of the national habit of blundering through. The railways were in a state of frantic disorganisation; whole regiments got mislaid; food and clothing were always lacking in spite of the most lavish expenditure. Worst of all, numerous officials and Jewish contractors became suddenly and mysteriously wealthy, and made small secret of the source of their prosperity.
Nobody raised his voice in protest because nobody had expected anything different. The orgy of mismanagement was accepted with a good-humoured shrug of the shoulders. Nitchevo, it can’t be helped! That was the comment of the fatalism which is at once the greatest weakness and greatest strength of the Russian character.