by Victor Serge
There is a sudden din of heavy motor lorries passing over the uneven paving of the road. Two go by, bristling with bayonets. Sailors and civilians are standing up in them, their rifles held upright. They’re going somewhere as reinforcements.
June 13, 1919
At Smolny, just now, a comrade from the executive committee of the soviet was giving a vivid account of her inspection visit to the front line the previous night, and how she had had a battery of light artillery urgently moved. This militant, who now holds an important position of responsibility, used to be a tailoring worker. Her simplicity has been supplemented by a great seriousness, a sort of gravity. Her improvised strategy is probably better than that of a highly trained specialist who sympathizes with the enemy.
The day is calm, despite our anxieties. The battle remains undecided. Now I know the whole truth of the situation, which the city as yet knows only through vague rumors. A fort at Kronstadt has been blown up. Two ships from the war fleet have tried to go over to the Whites; I don’t know whether they succeeded or not. The fortress of Krasnaia Gorka is in the hands of the Whites, as well as the radio station. Those occupying it have transmitted a message to the British fleet and to the Finnish government, to ask for their assistance and promising them a rapid victory. The Yudenich offensive is finally developing to the west and south within a maximum radius of less than forty miles. In short, Petrograd is threatened on all sides. By sea, where the British can take action from one moment to the next (their planes are bombing Kronstadt and sometimes Petrograd), and where units of the Baltic fleet may well be flying the flag of counterrevolution; by the ever watchful Finland, which has already unleashed its Karelian volunteers against us, and which is vociferously demanding Izhora Land, that is, the whole of the mouth of the Neva; by the White and Estonian forces (Yudenich, Rodzianko, Balakhovich) to the South and West. But the worst danger is certainly that from within. It is everywhere. Is there a conspiracy, on a wide scale or more limited? Certainly all these treacheries—the Semenov regiment, the Krasnaia Gorka, the Pavel fort, the battleships Petropavlosk and Andrei Pervozvanny—fit together and are connected, giving a clear impression of something planned in advance. Have we reached the end of the list yet? Who will betray next? Which fort, which battleship, which headquarters? Two thirds of the officers in the army and the fleet served under the old regime; three quarters of the intellectuals and civil servants “sabotaged” the social revolution for as long as they could, and will carry on doing so. At the lowest estimate there are a hundred thousand Whites in Petrograd around us and among us, if you define as a “White” any citizen who detests us, who fervently desires the re-establishment of private property by the Allied forces and the punishment of the Communists. This evening, tomorrow at the latest, we shall know for sure.
Meanwhile, the weather is fine. At around six o’clock, the pathways on the Kronversky Prospect, behind the Peter-Paul Fortress, are filling up with people. Soon quite a crowd is streaming towards the huge iron-built theater of the House of the People, where the meeting in honor of Rosa Luxemburg and Karl Liebknecht is due to be held. Zinoviev is billed to speak. People are keen to hear the truth about the situation from his mouth. Trainee soldiers arrive, carrying their flags. Then whole companies of soldiers appear. The hall is an enormous iron framework, in which there are several balconies one above the other, overlooking a tiered pit; it is flooded by a huge crowd. How many faces will be there in the sad grey daylight? Four thousand, six thousand, no less, and probably more. An impressive sight. Iron, nothing but iron, beams, pillars, girders, rope-molding, all in taut iron—and below men, soldiers, workers, young women, it seems like the whole population of the streets of Petrograd in Year Two brought into this one place; the crowd is hardly tumultuous, despite all those raised foreheads and watchful eyes. Seen from the platform, the living halflight of this hall is like an abyss. This blurred, multiplied humanity, raised up, held and imprisoned in the magnificent metallic edifice that it has built for itself, this humanity, which is anxious and pained, keeps silent as it awaits the words that will be thrown down to it from here; suddenly I feel I can measure its elemental force.
Three speeches in particular made a visible impact on the crowd, although it also applauded Hungarian and German comrades who had come to bring fraternal greetings from European revolutionaries. Peters was the first to speak. Abroad Peters is cloaked in a sinister mythology, fabricated by a rather dubious type of journalism which is expert at exploiting news stories; in fact he is an ordinary young man in a grey suit. To tell the truth, his appearance is not very prepossessing, and he doesn’t smile much. His face has thick, rather harsh features, he looks somewhat sullen, like a bulldog, with pale grey eyes. He pronounces clearly, but with a Latvian accent. He begins his speech by declaring in a loud voice: “A people always finds its Judas! Judas! Judas! Since treachery is everywhere, let it be quite clear that we shall crush it without fail, ruthlessly.” Six thousand people welcome this threat with cheers. If, later on, the newspapers in London and Paris accuse Peters of being responsible for the Red terror, they will be lying. I saw terror voted by acclamation by the people of Petrograd, coming up from the streets, freely, at the call of danger.
The next speaker was Antselovich, young, full-blooded, with a warm voice and vigorous gestures; he listed the sacrifices made by revolutionary Germany and named the martyrs. Zinoviev appeared only at the end. When he was seen on the platform, a member of the party Bureau whispered to me: “That’s a good sign! The battle of Krasnaia Gorka must be going our way.” And that was indeed the case. Zinoviev gave some detailed information on the events that had taken place. Within a few hours, we should have recaptured Krasnaia Gorka. But while he was speaking, a clicking sound, like clockwork suddenly being set in motion, could be heard to the left, in the wings. For this platform is a stage. The same thought immediately occurred to all of us. Peters rushed off, as did others, including me. The speaker never turned a hair, though he heard the noise and signaled to us. We didn’t find anything. But from now on I was fully aware that the breast of this man who was speaking, tribune of the class war, was exposed to the enemy’s blows. Then the whole hall echoed with cheers and a magnificent chorus gave voice to the Internationale.
As we came out, we could hear gunfire.
Night of June 13, 1919
The heavy, dull sound of shelling continues to echo in the distance at brief intervals. Doubtless it comes from Krasnaia Gorka. Each shot reminds us that the position is still in the hands of the Whites. They are holding out. From one hour to the next, the Finnish—or British—attack may be launched. On this sleepless night, the city is awake for its armed vigil. The house-to-house searches continue. But the voluntary surrender of weapons has exceeded all expectations. In all the party committee buildings, in all the militia offices, whole rooms are full of rifles, revolvers and sabers, piled up as though after a battle. But here it is before the battle that they have been removed from the enemy. Those who bring weapons are not asked for any explanation. Those in whose houses weapons are found, after repeated warnings and the extension of the period for surrendering arms on pain of death, are arrested on the spot. At the headquarters of the Special Commission (Cheka), a brand new German machine-gun has been brought in, found in a private house. It is not the first. In the cellars of a consulate (the Romanian, I think), I am told they have found a small naval gun.
The street is ready to become a battlefield. The preparations taken in the pale light of nighttime have a sort of solemnity about them. Motorcycles, armed with machineguns, set off through the deserted streets. Armored cars await a signal. In the entrance halls of the committee buildings, machineguns have been placed. Groups of militia men and Communists, with bayonets fixed to their guns, are gathering in the Gorkhovaia, at the doors of the militia headquarters.
June 18-19, 1919
Ever since 14 June, although the situation remained very serious and no significant change had occurred, we had the sense that
the crisis was over. It may well have simply been a relaxation of the nerves. But however that may be, the shelling stopped on June 14, although the Whites held the Krasnaia Gorka fort until the night of June 16. On the sixteenth, towards midnight, the sailors from Kronstadt mounted an assault on the fort which the Red fleet had shelled. The garrison put up only a feeble resistance. A number of soldiers who had been taken by surprise by the treachery of the White officers remained passive, not wishing to fight against the Reds. The officers and a small minority of the gunners—those who had condemned themselves by shelling Kronstadt and the surrounding villages—resisted ferociously. No revolutionary court will have to spend time judging them. The sailors, during the assault, did not bother with such formalities.
The conspiracy—or the conspiracies—are turning out to be vast and complex. They result from the tension built up by all the hatred against the Reds. The objective aimed at was the capture of Petrograd, with the assistance of the British fleet, assistance which decisive events in the interior of the country would have made extremely probable (and which, moreover, had perhaps even been promised). In the Petrograd region, the initiative lay with the former army and navy officers, in collusion with the “Union for the Regeneration of Russia” and the “National Center,” made up of the Constitutional Democrats, the Right Social Revolutionaries and Denikin. Thus the ramifications of the White organizations stretch into the south with Denikin and into Siberia with Kolchak, to Finland and Estonia, to the White army of Yudenich and Rodzianko, to the British fleet and to the Allied intelligence agencies at Helsinki and Tallinn. Documents prove the involvement of the Mensheviks and the oborontsi (patriots, Plekhanov’s former group) in the conspiracy. The Right Social Revolutionaries were of course involved, and some lost sheep from the “Left” Social Revolutionaries too. The movement was set in motion a little prematurely as a result of the explosion (on the morning of June 12) at the Pavel fort. The signal was supposed to be given from Krasnaia Gorka. Most of the Kronstadt forts and two battleships (the Andrei Pervozvanny and the Petropavlosk) had more or less gone over to the Whites, as well as several military headquarters in Petrograd and Krasnoe Selo. And according to a plan meticulously prepared in advance, a few hours of treachery could have made Petrograd over to the Whites.
The Krasnaia Gorka officers, led by Major Nekludov, were ahead of time, and since they were not followed by the troops and the crews—on the two battleships said to have “gone over” there was no more than a momentary hesitation—they were defeated. What should be noted in all this is the moral aspect. All these White officers were vested with functions in the Red Army, privileged in various respects in comparison to the privations suffered by the rest of the population; right up to the very moment of their treachery, they pretended loyalty towards the revolutionary regime. They worked fraternally alongside the Communists. But when the fortress at Krasnaia Gorka was taken, they had some two hundred Communists and sympathizers arrested, and half of them were shot in small groups over a period of forty-eight hours. Clearly it never crossed their minds that one could do anything other than kill a Communist who had been defeated or taken prisoner. The same psychology was manifested in an order issued by General Rodzianko: “In the name of the Constituent Assembly,” it began, “I instruct you to execute Communists.” At the same time Yudenich also imposed the death penalty on anyone who failed to hand over Communists. It is the mentality shown by the Versailles forces at the time of the Paris Commune. During the last week of May in 1871 the reactionaries killed more than thirty thousand people in eight days. In 1918 the White terror in Finland killed ten to twelve thousand insurgents, and more than seventy thousand were tortured in the prisons. White terror, which is embryonic in the current treacheries and shootings, has the particular feature that it tends to kill its victims all together and that it aims to exterminate the most vigorous and the most conscious element among its opponents. That is the main thing that distinguishes it from Red terror, which it precedes and is the cause of, and which has no other purpose than to break the resistance of a minority. Hence the latter is by far the less bloody. In this respect it is also possible to draw a comparison between the mentality of the reactionary junker, who is convinced of the divine right of the rich, and that of the idealistic rebel, who may certainly be provoked to violence, but who cannot be made into the complacent executioner who is happy to be at the service of “order.”
June 22-24, 1919
The point of greatest danger has passed, although neither Yudenich’s offensive nor that of the White Karelian bands have yet been halted. In the north, the British are also attacking in the direction of Lake Onega; in the south-west the Poles have inflicted losses on us and captured positions. But Petrograd has overcome its surprise, and is on its guard; at every moment it is becoming more confident. By a sort of acquired momentum, the energy devoted to defense, above all internal defense, is developing and rapidly increasing.
A decision by the central committee of the Communist Party, published as early as June 14, when militants were being sent to the front, requires all party members to learn immediately how to handle a machine-gun.
Now extraordinary precautionary measures are coming one after the other. In all this we are aware of the strong hand of the head of internal security, Peters. These measures are worth noting; born from the practice of civil war, they provide the basis for a whole theory.
First of all, it is vital to strike the class enemy, the Whites. To this end, order No 960, of June 22, requires that every citizen must always carry with him a labor certificate issued at his place of work. All those who exploit the labor of others, or who do not work, are required to present themselves within three days at the Palace of Labor, where they will be registered and will receive special documents. The house committees and the militia responsible for the control of the streets will check that this order is being applied. This is a direct blow against the White population, made up of speculators, intellectuals who are irredeemably hostile to the soviet regime, and the old and new rich—all are doing their utmost to keep their heads down and bide their time. When they came to be registered, all those who were considered to be suspect were immediately sent to do defense work.
A mandatory regulation of June 21 establishes new controls based on strict rules as to the circulation of cars and motorcycles by day or by night, within or outside the city. A vehicle requires two different permits, one for moving around the town between 7.00am and 11.00pm, and one for the period between 11.00pm and 7.00am. A special permit is required for any journey outside the city. All motor vehicles, without exception, will be checked by the militia. If we recall that even the smallest counter-revolutionary attack would require a number of rapid journeys, this precaution is obviously essential.
The order to hand over immediately all weapons which have remained in the hands of citizens, and the house-to-house searches which followed this order, were aimed at disarming the enemy within. At present the task is to arm the workers. The same weapons will serve for this task!
On June 24 the Workers’ Defense committee published a decree in the name of Zinoviev and Peters ordering the formation of workers’ reserve regiments by the trade union organization. They will be made up of workers from the factories of Petrograd; headquarters will be set up by district and factory.
Peters has issued a poster which reiterates that “anyone found in possession of weapons or ammunition after June 24 will be immediately shot.” And thus we are brought back to the question of the terror, which is the logical conclusion of all these measures.
I believe that I have seen the birth of the terror during these anxious days. A list of sixty-six people who have been shot has just been published by the Special Commission. It takes up a whole column in the newspaper. Each name is followed by a brief indication of the reason for the sentence. Included are those responsible for the betrayals at Krasnaia Gorka, Kronstadt and everywhere else, and their accomplices; there are monarchists and members of
the Republican Center, people who were more or less agents of the “Simon” espionage agency, officers and civil servants guilty of forgery, two militia men who had sold their weapons, agents of the Special Commission itself sentenced for theft or extortion, a trio of speculators—which means, in a time of famine, people responsible for starvation. The total is sixty-six. Less than the number of our people that they shot in the Krasnaia Gorka fort immediately after the betrayal. So, during this month of implacable civil war, in Petrograd, Red terror has taken a total of less than a hundred and fifty lives, if we are to believe the announcements that have been published. (And why should they not all have been published, since it is principally by means of such announcements that the terror has an effect on the enemy?) But even if we follow rumor, which always exaggerates and distorts, and double or triple this figure, then still, in this battle of the civil war, only a derisory number of Whites have fallen victim to the Reds. When they capture the smallest town, more assorted workers, “Jews” and “Bolsheviks” are put to death.
The other night I was at the Special Commission headquarters, perhaps at the very time when the fate of those sixty-six was being decided. Peters was there, in army uniform, following by telephone the various internal and external defense operations which were still in an indeterminate state. The news arrived, one item after another: “A certain fort at Kronstadt is on fire. British planes are bombing the fleet. On a certain battleship treachery is being planned. At Krasnaia Gorka, the Whites are systematically shooting their prisoners and transmitting appeals to the British fleet by radio. The general staff of a certain Red regiment have been captured by Yudenich and shot. Balakhovich has burned a village. In a certain street a clandestine printing press has been discovered with manifestos in favor of the Constituent Assembly. In a certain house, a stock of guns and grenades has been found. Here there is a machine-gun in an attic. There, bombs in a cellar. An agent of the National Center has been arrested on the Finnish frontier: he was carrying messages from the Whites in the city. In Karelia the Whites have won a victory. In X. Street, speculators and brigands have robbed the local cooperative: the population will have no sugar for the next fortnight. Somewhere else a bad Communist has committed a theft. There has just been an attack on the Moscow railway line, with the aim of cutting off food supplies.” Such are the reports which a man invested with the highest responsibility for the defense of the revolutionary capital receives from morning to evening and from evening to morning. He knows that the slightest mistake—error, hesitation or weakness—can lead to a fatal betrayal. Everywhere there are concealed hatreds. Only a small number of men can be relied on—and the mass of armed workers, heroic, but ignorant, suffering and slaves to their instincts, whom the Whites are surreptitiously trying to undermine. And now the revolutionary, at his post amid this enormous danger, is brought this list of sixty-six Whites, treacherous officers, intellectuals who support the Entente, starvers of the people, shady “Communists.” Did he have any choice? Was not terror imposed on him by implacable necessity? Perhaps this very evening the revolution will collapse in our blood and in the blood of a whole people. The old law is: kill or be killed. But for us it is nonetheless something higher and less cruel than what has existed through the ages, for it is translated as follows: Break the past of lies, oppression, exploitation, authority, so that the future shall belong to the free workers in a free society. Crush this handful of backward-looking reactionaries—sixty-six, one hundred or three hundred, what does it matter!—in order to spare the tens of thousands of workers whom they will slaughter if they come out on top. Crush this incipient reaction at whatever cost, because if it were to triumph even for a moment it would be a calamity for the whole of humanity.