Russia & The Struggle for Peace/Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
THE ALLIES
TO speak of the conduct of the Allies during the struggle for peace is a very delicate and responsible task, and I am very reluctant to undertake it. But unfortunately the part played by the Allied diplomacy was so significant and so active that it is quite impossible to pass it over in silence. All that took place in Russia after the Revolution cannot be understood without a detailed explanation of the part played by the diplomacy of the Allies. I have already mentioned the disappointment caused in Russia by the cold, strange, and unfriendly attitude of the Allies to the Russian Revolution. The cold reception of the Revolution in England was undoubtedly a severe blow to Anglo-Russian friendship. But, after all, that is unimportant in comparison with what happened afterwards. I recall these initial blunders of the Allies,[1] since they prepared the ground for the later blunders of the Allied diplomacy and made them stand out in still more glaring relief. Those were indeed fateful steps, both for Russia and for the Allies, which began when the Allies had to define their attitude to the Russian peace programme. To-day, when the veil is partly lifted and secrets are being revealed, when it is known that Austria made serious proposals for peace, the conduct of the Allied diplomacy is still harder to understand. When one hears of the demands then made by French diplomacy, one comes to the conviction that the imperialistic mania from which Miliukov's party suffered was an international phenomenon. It is hard to restrain one's feelings when one thinks that Russia was sacrificed to satisfy the annexationist greed of the French imperialists, who were not content with Alsace-Lorraine, but who wanted to annex purely German land. To-day the same statesmen who allowed Russia to go to rack and ruin for the sake of their greed for a "bigger Alsace," hypocritically say that they will not lay down their arms till justice is done in Russia. But I want to forget these newly revealed facts in writing this chapter. I shall attempt to describe the struggle of the Allied diplomacy with the Russian democracy as it appeared in Russia, where these facts were not yet known.
When the Soviet had published its manifesto to the peoples of the world, there began a time of great expectations. How would Europe respond? At first the Russians thought only of what would be the attitude of Germany. Less attention was paid to France and England. That is not to say that the Russian democracy was forgetful or ignorant of the fact that a powerful and militant imperialism with annexationist desires existed in these countries. No. But, none the less, they hoped and expected that the influence of the Russian Revolution would appear most quickly and most powerfully just in these free and democratic states. They were confident that the old democratic traditions of these countries would make them all the more responsive to any manifestations of the democratic spirit in Russia. From England and France they expected an immediate and joyful response.
The aim of the Russian democracy in making this appeal was to put an end to the war with one blow. It was a great dream, worthy of a great revolution. But it was an ideal, and even the greatest enthusiasts did not believe that peace would come all at once. The democracy knew that they were in for a stubborn and intense struggle for peace. And their programme in that struggle was definite and realistic. In the first place, to prove to the Russian Army and to the broad masses of the democracy that Russia and her Allies had no aims of conquest, that they were fighting a purely defensive war, and that if the war had to continue it was wholly and solely the fault of Austro-German imperialism. In the second place, to destroy the internal unity of Germany, which was built and nourished on the conviction that the Allies were threatening the integrity of the Central Powers, that they had annexationist aims and were out for purely German territory, that they wanted to dismember Austria and destroy the Turkish Empire and to exclude Germany from the world's commerce and colonial power.
The Russian and Allied imperialists tried to discredit this first international act of the Russian Revolution by calling it doctrinaire and fanatical. It was, in fact, neither fanatical nor doctrinaire. It was an instinctively felt and deeply considered action which did honour to the statesmanship of the Russian democracy. Whatever its influence may have been in Germany, it was the one means of reviving the Russian army. If the Russian and Allied Governments had succeeded in convincing the Russian army—not by mere statements but by evident facts—that Russia, in concert with her Allies, had renounced every kind of annexation, that they were making every effort to bring the war to an honourable conclusion as soon as possible, and that only Germany was prolonging the war in the interests of her policy of conquest, then millions of Russian soldiers (the Russian army at that time numbered at least eight millions) would have risen like a man in defence of Russia and the Allies. All Russia would have fought the more vigorously, since every soldier who longed for peace would have known that the only way to peace was through war. The Russian democracy certainly never suspected that difficulties would arise from the Allied side. On the contrary, they were convinced that the Allied democracies would go with them enthusiastically. They knew that there would be a struggle in the Allied countries, and that the imperialists would not easily give way; but they had no doubt of the final triumph of the democratic principles.
"We are prepared to back up the peoples of England, France and Italy by force of arms if they compel their Governments to renounce conquests and are none the less compelled to defend themselves against Germany. But we shall firmly protest against the continuation of the war for the interests of capital, whatever the national flag under which it sails." Such was the simple and straightforward message of the Russian democracy to the Allies. And the answer was at least as simple, but cruel and abrupt. The Allies refused to democratise the Allied war-aims, rejected all proposals to revise the treaties, and, instead, simply demanded that Russia should go on fighting. Having refused to help the Russian democracy in its efforts to re-inspire the army, the Allies nevertheless demanded that the Russian army should undertake an offensive as it was. And when this senseless offensive, carried out owing to the insistence of the Allies against all strategical considerations, led to an appalling catastrophe, as it was bound to do, and brought about the final ruin of the Russian army, the Allies washed their hands of Russia.
On March 14 the Soviet issued its Manifesto, and on the 27th the Provisional Government associated itself with the principle of no annexations and no indemnities. At once in the Allied countries the cry was raised that the Russian democracy was contemplating a separate peace. The situation became very curious. The Russian democracy approached the Allies with the most urgent request to help them in the struggle for a general peace; and, if a general peace appeared impossible, to give them the possibility of reorganising the army. Instead of answering their request and lending assistance, the Allies began to accuse them of wanting to make a separate peace with the enemy. Their accusation was as illogical as it was dishonest. It was a kind of "political strategy" to obscure the issue and to avoid making a definite reply. But at first the Russian democracy took it in good faith and considered it as an honest misunderstanding. As soon as they were aware of it, they began to make all possible efforts to convince the Western democracies that they were mistaken in their interpretation of Russia's intentions. They did this so decisively and so completely that the greatest sceptics must have been forced to realise that the accusation of the Allies was without foundation. The democracy, the Government, the democratic Press, every meeting of soldiers or workers, congresses of Soviets and Soldiers' Delegates: all of them emphatically stated that there was not the least idea of making a separate peace. The Russian democracy denounced fraternisation as soon as the suspicion arose that it could be interpreted as a separate peace. They indignantly refused to listen to the numerous offers of separate peace. But nothing helped. The legend of "separate peace" continued to be spread, and the more the Allies shouted about separate peace and about the alleged treachery of the Russian democracy to the Allied cause, the easier it was for them to avoid answering the direct questions and requests of the Russian democracy and the Provisional Government.
In the disastrous misunderstandings and misrepresentations which arose from this situation, a prominent part was played by the Allied missions to the young democracy. French, Belgian, British, and Italian Socialists and workers hastened to Russia to implore the democracy and the Soviets not to conclude a separate peace. It was a most unedifying procession, but there was a certain humorous element in it. Not only was their specific mission without any relation to the real situation in Russia, since the Russian democracy had no thought of making a separate peace; they were altogether out of touch with the feelings of Russia; in many cases people had to force themselves to take them seriously. They made the impression that their mission was simply to assure the Russian democracy that the French and British workers and Socialists were as good and faithful imperialists as their Governments. Fortunately the Russian democracy took their statements very sceptically, and in spite of their repeated assertions that they were the true representatives of Western Labour and Socialism, they were not believed.
These missions merely had a negative effect. They showed democratic Russia the weakness of the democracy in the Allied countries. The very fact that the Governments of these countries could choose the emissaries of Labour, and that in spite of the demands, not only of the Soviet, but even of the Provisional Government, the minority Socialists were unable to come, showed the Russian democracy how little help they could expect from the Allied democracies in their struggle for peace.
In speaking about the Allied missions, it is only just to record the sincere efforts made by Mr. Arthur Henderson to make the real Russian attitude known in this country on his return. Unfortunately his efforts were made fruitless by the same methods of "political strategy."
But the missions were, after all, only an incident, and people soon forgot them after their departure. Much more weight was carried by the official conduct of the Allied diplomacy. First there were the speeches of the leading statesmen on the question of foreign policy; secondly, the question of calling an inter-Allied conference for the revision of war-aims. Later on a third element was added in the struggle against the Stockholm conference.
It is not necessary to dwell on the speeches at great length. It is sufficient to say that every speech on foreign policy in the French and British Parliaments was received with an outburst of enthusiasm in Russian imperialistic circles and was the cause of great distress to the Russian democracy. Every speech showed how infinitely far away the ideals of the Russian democracy were from the real programme of the Allied diplomacy. Every speech lessened the hopes of an early peace, every speech shook the faith of the Russian democracy in the possibility of joint Allied action towards peace, and correspondingly assisted the disintegration of the Russian army. Miliukov's party was jubilant, and with good reason, for the Allied diplomacy, while diverging more and more widely from the ideas of the Russian democracy, became more and more closely in agreement with the views of the Russian imperialists. For example, Miliukov's organ, the Rech (on the 6/19th of May) welcomed Lord Robert Cecil's speech in the following terms: "In the House of Commons Lord Robert Cecil answered Snowden's proposal to welcome Russia's declaration on the renouncement of imperialistic conquests and territorial gains. While the German Chancellor's reply, to which we referred the other day, did away with the illusion of German readiness for peace. Lord Robert Cecil's reply will undoubtedly help to destroy another illusion—which imagines that the countries in alliance with us can easily be brought into line with the ideas of Zimmerwald and Kintal (this was the Russian imperialists' favourite way of referring to the peace formula of the Soviet). Lord Cecil subjected the notorious formula 'without annexations or indemnities' to severe criticism, basing his contentions on the essential interests of Great Britain and her Allies."
The same speech produced such a deplorable impression in Russian Socialist and democratic circles that the leading democratic organs refrained from commenting on it at length. But their mood may be judged from the following comments in the Izvestia (7/20th May) on the above article in the Rech: "Miliukov's organ, the Rech, is triumphant with unconcealed and malicious delight—and what for? Because the English Foreign Minister adopted a none too benevolent attitude to the peace 'without annexations or indemnities,' to which revolutionary democratic Russia and with them the Provisional Government have pledged themselves. The late Russian Minister for Foreign Affairs is delighted that Russia's policy meets with opposition in England!"
But however harmful these speeches were, the main evil did not come from them, but from the absolutely intolerable attitude of the Allies to Russia's request for a conference to revise the Allied war-aims. Had the Allies deliberately decided to drive Russia to desperation, had they consciously intended to destroy in the Russian army and the Russian people all confidence in the Allies, they could not have done so more successfully.
In effect, the Russian democracy, having definitely repudiated all aims of conquest in their foreign policy, very soon realised the need of revising the existing treaties and agreements between Russia and her Allies. The sinister significance of the Secret Treaties began to be known. There were two currents of opinion in the democracy. The radical minority was for an immediate publication of the Secret Treaties, and wanted Russia to declare them null and void. The majority, though of the same opinion that the imperialistic agreements of the old regime could not be binding on democratic Russia, considered that the Russian Government ought not to publish them without the sanction of the Allies. They therefore proposed to convoke an immediate conference of the Allied Governments, at which the Allies should replace the Secret Treaties by an open declaration of Allied war-aims in accordance with the principle of "no annexations and no indemnities."
The Russian democracy again showed wise statesmanship on this occasion. Unfortunately the Allies did not meet them with straightforward statesmanship.
At first they expressed readiness to meet the Russians. For instance, Ribot, in his speech in the French Chamber, and the British Government, in its Note to the Russian Government early in May, announced their willingness to discuss the revision of the treaties in conference. After that Russia asked and implored the Allies to make arrangements for such a conference, but it did not take place. All Russia's hopes were set on the conference. It was many times announced and many times cancelled, postponed, and again announced. But it remained a "phantom conference." No doubt this obstinacy and prevarication was exercised for lofty national interests. But the question remains: would it not have been better honestly to fulfil the promise, to call the conference and revise the treaties, instead of driving Russia to desperation and compelling her to publish the agreements independently and to repudiate them as the ignominious legacy of Tsardom?
The longer the Allies put off the revision of their war-aims, the more the strength and military fitness of Russia became undermined through lack of certainty and confidence in the purposes of the war. And the more Russia's military power decreased, the less interest the Allies had in meeting her requests. Thus the behaviour of the Allies became more and more high-handed. The Allied Press, which had never been very friendly since the Revolution, began to adopt an arrogant and contemptuous tone. During the Miliukov crisis, Chernov reproached the Provisional Government with speaking to the Allies in the tone of a poor relation. This reproach could be applied with equal justice to the Coalition Government of which Chernov himself was a member. But the real cause of this lack of self-respect was the attitude of the Allies, who began by degrees to treat Russia really as a "poor relation." The Allies began to remonstrate with Russia. The Allied Ambassadors made a démarche and reproached the Government for the lack of discipline in the Russian army. The Allies put forward demands: Russia should "fulfil her duty as an ally." At last the question of the revision of the treaties was made to depend on the military activities of Russia. The Allies brought pressure to bear on the Russian Government, and demanded that the Russian army should begin an immediate offensive.
To-day it is a matter of common knowledge that the July offensive of the Russian army was the gravest and most fatal blunder of Kerenski and the Russian high command. It was more than a blunder. It was the heaviest crime any statesman could have committed. It was equivalent to staking the whole fate of the Revolution and the very existence of Russia as an independent State on one very doubtful move.
History will never forgive Kerenski and his associates for this crime. But its judgment of him will be mitigated by the fact that he was acting under an appalling pressure from the Allies.
- ↑ Among these minor blunders I may indicate two which especially agitated the democracy. First there was the altogether unjustifiable interference of the British and French authorities in regulating the return of revolutionary exiles and selecting which should be allowed to return and which should not, a process which became known as "infiltration." The second was the insufficiently cautious observance of diplomatic usage by the Allied embassies. For instance, the British Ambassador received deputations from the Cossacks and made speeches to them which were interpreted as an interference in the internal political conflicts of Russia. Under the heading, "Sir Buchanan and the Cossacks," the Novaia Zhizn of October 18, writes: "What sort of leading articles would have appeared in the Times and the Morning Post if the Russian Ambassador in London had received a delegation of Sinn Feiners and expressed his hope that they would rescue the country from a grave crisis? … Why, then, do English usages appear so susceptible of modifications on Russian soil? Why does Sir Buchanan find it possible to make exactly such speeches to the representatives of the Cossacks, one of the factions in the present political conflict in Russia? … Perhaps he wants to act in harmony with that section of the English Press which in the very moment of Kornilov's adventure took Kornilov's side? Or has he taken into consideration the reception of General Gurko by King George, after his escape to England with the assistance of 'certain Englishmen' and on a 'foreign ship.' Such demonstrations of sympathy with the representatives of the old régime and the 'Kornilovists' are least of all likely to help in strengthening 'friendly relations' between England and Russia. They only serve to call forth a justifiable mistrust of the rulers of England in the Russian democracy."