The Proletarian Revolution in Russia/Part 7/Chapter 4
IV
DEMOCRACY AND PROLETARIAN DICTATORSHIP
The resolution of the March Congress of the Soviets advocates, as the most important problem at present, the creation of "efficient organization" and higher discipline. Such resolutions are now readily supported by everybody. But that their realization requires compulsion, and compulsion in the form of a dictatorship, is ordinarily not comprehended. And yet, it would be the greatest stupidity and the most absurd opportunism to suppose that the transition from Capitalism to Socialism is possible without compulsion and dictatorship. The Marxian theory long ago condemned in no uncertain terms this petty bourgeois-democratic and anarchistic nonsense. And the Russia of 1917–1918 confirms in this respect the Marxian theory so clearly, palpably and convincingly that only those who are hopelessly stupid or who have firmly determined to ignore the truth can still err in this respect. Either a Kornilov dictatorship (if Kornilov be taken as the Russian type of a bourgeois Cavaignac), or a dictatorship of the proletariat,—no other alternative is possible for a country which is passing through an unusually swift development with unusually difficult transitions and which suffers from desperate disorganization created by the most horrible war. All middle courses are advanced—in order to deceive the people—by the bourgeoisie, who are not in a position to tell the truth and admit openly that they need a Kornilov, or—through stupidity—by the petty bourgeois democrats, the Chernovs, Tseretellis and Martovs, prattling of a united democracy, of the dictatorship of democracy, of a single democratic front, and similar nonsense. Those who have not learned even from the course of the Russian revolution of 1917–1918 that middle courses are impossble, must be given up as hopeless.
On the other hand, it is not hard to see that during any transition from Capitalism to Socialism a dictatorship is necessary for two main reasons or in two main directions. In the first place, it is impossible to conquer and destroy Capitalism without the merciless suppression of the reisistance of the exploiters, who cannot be at once deprived of their wealth, of their advantages in organization and knowledge, and who will, therefore, during a quite long period, inevitably attempt to overthrow the hateful (to them) authority of the poor. Secondly, every great revolution, and especially a Socialist revolution, even if there was no external war, is inconceivable without an internal war, thousands and millions of cases of wavering and of desertion from one side to the other, and a state of the greatest uncertainty, instability and chaos. And, of course, all the decadent elements of the old order, inevitably very numerous and connected largely with the petty bourgeoisie (for the petty bourgeoisie is the first victim of every war and every crisis) cannot fail to "show up" during such a profound transformation. And these elements of decay cannot "show up" otherwise than through the increase of crimes, hooliganism, bribery, speculation and other indecencies. It takes time and an iron hand to get rid of this.
There never was a great revolution in history in which the people did not instinctively feel this and did not display salutary firmness, shooting down thieves on the spot. The trouble with previous revolutions was this—that the revolutionary zeal of the masses, which kept them vigilant and gave them strength to mercilessly suppress the elements of decay, did not last long. The social, the class causes of such weakness of revolutionary zeal lay in the weakness of the proletariat, which is the only class capable (if sufficiently numerous, conscious and disciplined) of attracting the majority of the exploited toilers (the majority of the poor, if we should use a simpler and more popular expression) and of retaining power for a sufficiently long,time to completely suppress both all exploiters and all elements of decay.
This historical experience of all revolutions, this universal historical—economic and political—lesson was summed up by Marx in his brief, sharp, exact and vivid formula: the dictatorship of the proletariat. And that the Russian revolution correctly approached this universal historical problem has been proven by the victorious march of the Soviet oganization among all peoples and tongues of Russia. For the Soviet rule is nothing else than the organized form of the dictatorship of the proletariat, the dictatorship of the class conscious proletariat, rousing to a new democracy, to independent participation in the administration of the state, tens and tens of millions of exploited toilers, who through their experience are discovering that the disciplined and class conscious vanguard of the proletariat is their most reliable leader.
But "dictatorship" is a great word. And great words must not be used lightly. A dictatorship is an iron rule, with revolutionary daring, and swift and merciless in the suppression of the exploiters as well as of the hooligans. And our rule is too mild, quite frequently resembling jam rather than iron. We must not for a moment forget that the bourgeois and petty bourgeois environment is offering resistance to the Soviet rule in two ways: on the one hand, by external pressure—by the methods of the Savinkovs, Gotz, Gegetchkoris and Kornilovs, by conspiracies and insurrections, with their ugly "ideologic" reflection, by torrents of falsehood and calumny in the press of the Cadets, Right Social-Revolutionists and Mensheviki; and, on the other, this environment exerts internal pressure, taking advantage of every element of decay, of every weakness, to bribe, to increase the lack of discipline, dissolluteness, chaos. The nearer we get to the complete military suppression of the bourgeoisie, the more dangerous become for us the petty bourgeois anarchic inclinations. And these inclinations cannot be combatted only by propaganda and agitation, by the organization of emulation, by the selection of organizers; they must also be met with force.
To the extent to which the principal problem of the Soviet Republic changes from military suppression to administration, suppression and compulsion will, as a rule, be manifested in trials, and not in shooting on the spot. And in this respect the revolutionary masses have taken, since November 7, 1917, the right road, and have proven the vitality of the Revolution, in starting to organize their own—workmen's and peasants'—tribunals, before any decrees were issued dismissing the bourgeois-democratic judicial apparatus. But our revolutionary and popular tribunals are excessively and incredibly weak. It is apparent that the masses' view of courts,—inherited from the regime of the land-owners and the bourgeoisie,—as not their own, has not yet been completely destroyed. It is not sufficiently appreciated that the courts serve to atract all the poor to administration (for judicial activity is one of the functions of state administration); that the court is an organ of the rule of the proletariat and of the poorest peasantry; that the court is a means of training in discipline. There is a lack of appreciation of the simple and obvious fact that, if the chief misfortunes of Russia are famine and unemployment, these misfortunes cannot be overcome by any outbursts of enthusiasm, but only by thorough and universal organization and discipline, in order to increase the production of bread for men and bread for industry (fuel), to transport it in time and to distribute it in the right way. That therefore responsibility for the tortures of famine and unemployment falls on everyone who violates labor discipline in any enterprise and in any business. That those who are responsible should be discovered, tried and punished without mercy. The petty bourgeois environment, which we will now have persistently to combat, is reflected particularly in the lack of comprehension of the economic and political connection between famine and unemployment and the prevailing dissolution in organization and discipline,—in the firm hold of the view of the small proprietor: nothing matters, if only I gain as much as possible.
This struggle of the petty bourgeois environment against proletarian organization is expressed with particular force in the railway industry, which embodies, probably most clearly, the economic ties created by large Capitalism. The "office" element furnishes saboteurs and grafters in large numbers; the proletarian element, its best part, is fighting for discipline. But between these two elements there are, of course, many who waver, who are "weak," who are unable to resist the "temptation" of speculation, bribery and personal advantage, at the expense of the functioning apparatus, the uninterrupted work of which is necessary to overcome famine and unemployment.
A characteristic struggle occured on this basis in connection with the last decree on railway management, the decree which granted dictatorial (or "unlimited") power to individual directors. The conscious (and mostly, probably, unconscious) representatives of petty bourgeois disintegration contended that the granting of "unlimited" (i. e. dictatorial) power to individuals was a defection from the principle of Commissariat administration, from the democratic and other principles of the Soviet Republic. Some of the Left Social-Revolutionists carried on a plainly demagogic agitation against the decree on dictatorship, appealing to evil instincts and to the petty bourgeois desire for personal gain. The question thus presented is of really great significance: first, the question of principle—is, in general, the appointment of individuals, endowed with unlimited power, the appointment of dictators, in accord with the fundamental principles of the Soviet rule; secondly, in what relation does this action,—this precedent, if you wish,—stand to the special problems of the Soviet rule during the present concrete period? Both quesions deserve serious consideration.
That the dictatorship of individuals has very frequently in the history of the revolutionary movements served as an expression and a means of realization of the dictatorship of the revolutionary classes, is confirmed by the undisputed experience of history. With bourgeois democratic principles, the dictatorship of individuals has undoubtedly been compatible. But this point is always treated adroitly by the bourgeois critics of the Soviet Government and by their petty bourgeois allies. On the one hand, they declare Soviet rule to be simply something absurd and anarchically wild, carefully avoiding all our historical comparisons and theoretical proofs that the Soviets are a higher form of democracy; nay, more, they are the beginning of a Socialist form of democracy. On the other hand, they demand of us a higher democracy than the bourgeois democracy and argue: with your Bolshevist (i. e. Socialist, not bourgeois) democratic principles, with the Soviet democratic principles, individual dictatorship is absolutely incompatible.
Extremely poor arguments, these. If we are not anarchists, we must admit the necessity of a state; that is, of force, for the transition from Capitalism to Socialism. The form of compulsion is determined by the degree of development of the particular revolutionary class, then by such special circumstances as, for instance, the heritage of a long and reactionary war, and finally by the forms of resistance of the bourgeoisie and the petty bourgeoisie. There is therefore absolutely no contradiction in principle between the Soviet (Socialist) democracy and the use of dictatorial power of individuals. The distinction between a proletarian and a bourgeois dictatorship consists in this: that the first directs its attacks against the exploiting minority in the interests of the exploited majority; and, further, in this,—that the first is accomplished (also through individuals) not only by the masses of the exploited toilers, but also by organizations which are so constructed that they arouse these masses to historical creative work (the Soviets belong to this category of organization).
With respect to the second question, the significance of individual dictatorial power from the standpoint of the specific problems of the present period, we must say that every large machine industry—which is the material productive source and basis of Socialism—requires an absolute and strict unity of the will which directs the joint work of hundreds, thousands and tens of thousands of people. This necessity is obvious from the technical, economic and historical standpoints and has always been recognized by all those who had given any thought to Socialism as its pre-requisites. But how can we secure a strict unity of will? By subjecting the will of thousands to the will of one.
This subjection, if the participants in the common work are ideally conscious and disciplined, may resemble the gentle leadership of an orchestra conductor; but may take the acute form of a dictatorship,—if there is no ideal discipline and consciousness. But at any rate, complete submission to a single will is absolutely necessary for the success of the process of work which is organized on the type of large machine industry. This is doubly true of the railways. And just this transition from one political problem to another, which in appearance has no resemblance to the first, constitutes the peculiarity of present period. The Revolution has just broken the oldest, the strongest, and the heaviest chains to which the masses were compelled to submit. So it was yesterday. And today the same Revolution—and indeed in the interests of Socialism—demands the absolute submission of the masses to the single will of these who direct the tabor process. It is self-understood that such a transition cannot take place at once. It is self-understood that it can be realized only after great upheavals, crises, returns to the old; only through the greatest strain on the energy of the proletarian vanguard which is leading the people to the new order. This is ignored by those who vacillate and drop completely into the hysterics of the Novaya Zhizn, V period, Dielo Naroda and Nash Viek.
Take the psychology of the average, ordinary type of the toiling and exploited masses and compare this psychology with the objective, material conditions of their social life. Before the November revolution they had never seen the possessing exploiting classes sacrifice in their favor anything that was really of value to them. The proletarian had not seen that he would be given the often promised land and liberty, that he would be given peace, that they would sacrifice the interests of a "greater Russia" and of the secret treaties aiming at a "greater Russia," that they would sacrifice capital and profits. He saw this only after November 7, 1917,—when the proletarian took these things himself by force and when he had to defend them by force against the Kerenskys, Gotz, Gegetchkoris, Dutoffs, and Kornilovs. It is natural that for a certain time all attention of the proletarian, all his thoughts, all his energy are turned in one direction—to breathe freely, to straighten out, to expand, to enjoy such immediate benefits of life as can be taken away and which were denied him by the overthrown exploiters. It is natural that it must take some time before the ordinary representative of the masses will not only see and become convinced, but will come to feel that he must not just simply "seize," grab, snatch,—and that this leads to greater disorganization, to ruin, to the return of the Kornilovs. A corresponding change in the environment (and, hence, in the psychology) of the rank and file of the toiling masses is barely beginning. And we, the Communist Party (the Bolsheviki), who give conscious expression to the aspirations of the exploited masses for emancipation, should fully comprehend this change and its necessity, should be in the front ranks of the weary masses which are seeking a way out, and should lead them along the right road—the road of labor discipline, harmonizing the problem of "holding meetings" to discuss the conditions of work with the problem of absolute submission to the will of the Soviet director, of the dictator, during work.
The "meeting-holding" is ridiculed, and more often wrathfully hissed at by the bourgeois, Mensheviki, etc., who see only chaos, senseless bustle and outbursts of petty bourgeois egoism. But without the "meeting-holding" the oppressed masses could never pass over from the discipline forced by the exploiters to a conscious and voluntary discipline. "Meeting-holding" is the real democracy of the toilers, their straightening out, their awakening to a new life, their first steps on the field which they themselves have cleared of reptiles (exploiters, imperialists, landed proprietors, capitalists), and which they want to learn to put in order themselves in their own way, for themselves, in accord with the principles of their, "Soviet," rule, and not the rule of the nobility and bourgeoisie. The November victory of the toilers against the exploiters was necessary, it was necessary to have a whole historical period of elementary discussion by the toilers themselves of the new conditions of life and of the new problems to make possible a secure transition to higher forms of labor discipline, to a conscious assimilation of the idea of the necessity of the dictatorship of the proletariat, to absolute submission to the personal orders of the representatives of the Soviet rule during work.
This transition has now begun.
We have successfully solved the first problem of the Revolution. We saw how the toiling masses constituted in themselves the fundamental condition of a successful solution: united effort against the exploiters, to overthrow them. Such stages as October, 1905, and March and November, 1917, are of universal historical significance.
We have successfully solved the second problem of the Revolution: to awaken and arouse the downtrodden social classes which were oppressed by the exploiters and which only after November 7, 1917, have obtained the freedom to overthrow the exploiters and to begin to take stock and to regulate their life in their own way. The "meeting-holding" of the most oppressed and downtrodden, of the least trained, toiling masses, their joining the Bolsheviki, their creating everywhere Soviet organization,—this is the second great stage of the Revolution.
We are now in the third stage. Our gains, our decrees, our laws, our plans must be secured by the solid forms of every day labor discipline. This is the most difficult, but also the most promising problem, for only its solution will give us Socialism. We must learn to combine the stormy democracy of the meetings, overflowing with fresh energy, breaking all restraint, the democracy of the toiling masses—with iron discipline during work, with absolute submission to the will of one person, the Soviet director, during work.
We have not learned this, but we will learn.
The restoration of bourgeois exploitation threatened us yesterday through the Kornilovs, Gotz, Dutoffs, Bogayevskys. We defeated them. This restoration, the very same restoration is threatening us today in a different form, through the environment of petty bourgeois dissoluteness and anarchism, in the form of ordinary, small, but numerous attacks and aggressions of this environment against proletarian discipline. This environment of petty bourgeois anarchy we must and will conquer.