The Russian Revolution

by Richard Pipes

  However, after the Provisional Government had come into being, the question of the monarchy’s future acquired great urgency. Some ministers wanted to retain the monarchy on a strictly limited, constitutional basis. Proponents of this position, mainly Miliukov and Guchkov, felt that some sort of monarchical presence was essential, in part because to the Russian masses the Crown symbolized the “state” and in part because in a multinational empire it was the main supranational, unifying institution. Their opponents argued that the anti-monarchist passions of the crowds had made it unrealistic to expect the monarchy to survive in any form.

  The monarchy’s prestige in Russia had reached a nadir in the winter of 1916–17 when even committed monarchists turned against it. Guchkov, for all his royalist sentiments, had to admit that in the first days of the Revolution, “around the throne, there was an utter vacuum.” And Shulgin noted on February 27: “in this whole immense city one could not find a few hundred men sympathetic to the government.”105 The significance of this fact can scarcely be overestimated: it exerted a critical influence not only on the outbreak of the Revolution but on its whole subsequent course. Centuries of historical experience had inculcated in Russians—that is, the mass of peasants, workers, and soldiers—the habit of viewing the tsar as the khoziain or proprietor of the country. This notion prevented them from conceiving of sovereignty as something distinct from the person of the sovereign. Russia without a true—that is, “terrible” or “awesome”—tsar, let alone without any tsar, in the people’s minds was a contradiction in terms: for them it was the person of the tsar that defined and gave reality to the state, not the other way around. The decline in the prestige of tsardom which had occurred after the turn of the century, as a result of the monarchy’s inability to suppress the opposition and its ultimate surrender of autocratic authority, lowered in their eyes the prestige of the state and its government as well. Without its khoziain, the country, as the people understood it, fell apart and ceased to exist, just as a peasant household fell apart and ceased to exist upon the death of its bol’shak. When this happened, Russia reverted to its original “Cossack” constitution of universal volia, or liberty, understood in the sense of unbridled license, in which the will of the commune was the only acknowledged authority.

  In view of this tradition, one might have expected the mass of the population to favor the retention of the monarchy. But at this particular historic juncture two factors militated against such a stand.

  The peasantry remained monarchist. Nevertheless, in early 1917 it was not averse to an interlude of anarchy, sensing that it would provide a chance finally to carry out a nationwide “Black Repartition.” Indeed, between the spring of 1917 and the spring of 1918, the communal peasantry would seize and distribute among themselves virtually all the land in private possession. Once this process was completed, its traditional monarchist sentiments would reassert themselves, but then it would be too late.

  The other consideration had to do with the fear of punishment on the part of the Petrograd populace, especially the troops. The February events could be seen in different ways: as a glorious revolution or as a sordid military mutiny. If the monarchy survived, even though constitutionally circumscribed, it was likely to view the actions of the Petrograd garrison as mutiny:

  The half-conscious revulsion against the monarchy among the [Petrograd] masses seems to have been motivated by a sense of apprehension over what had been done … a revolution that ended with the reestablishment of the old dynasty would essentially turn into a rebellion, participation in which … carried the risk of retribution.

  106

  When he arrived in Pskov on March 1, Nicholas had no thought of abdicating. On the contrary, he was determined to reassert his authority by force; in his diary the preceding day he noted that he had sent General Ivanov to Petrograd “to introduce [vodvorit’] order.” But in Pskov he fell under the influence of opinions which touched him where he was the most sensitive: his patriotism and love of the army. From a conversation with General Ruzskii shortly after arrival and throughout the twenty-four hours that followed, Nicholas heard from everyone that as long as he remained tsar Russia could not win the war. Nicholas discounted the opinion of politicians as self-serving, but he paid heed to the generals. As the Hughes telegraph at the Northern Front headquarters registered telegram after telegram from the military commanders urging him, for the sake of the country and its armed forces, first to allow the Duma to form the cabinet and then to abdicate, his resolve weakened. Alexandra anticipated the effects of such pressures on him and on March 2 urged him not to sign a “constitution” or some such “horror” (uzhas). She added:

  If you are compelled to make concessions, then you are

  under no conditions

  obliged to fulfill them, because they have been extracted in an unworthy manner.

  107

  General Alekseev, who in the Tsar’s absence from Mogilev assumed the duties of Commander in Chief, had sound practical reasons to be worried by the news from Petrograd: the continuation of strikes and mutinies in the capital city threatened to disrupt the railway service and halt the flow of supplies to the front.108 In the longer run there was the danger of the mutiny spreading to front-line troops. In the morning of February 28 he concluded that there was no hope of suppressing the Petrograd mutiny by force because Khabalov had wired that he had only 1,100 loyal troops left and even they were running out of ammunition.109 In these circumstances he saw no way of saving the front from collapse other than by granting the political concessions urged by Rodzianko. Having learned of the spread of disorders to Moscow, on March 1 he cabled the Tsar:

  A revolution in Russia—and this is inevitable once disorders occur in the rear—will mean a disgraceful termination of the war, with all its inevitable consequences, so dire for Russia. The army is most intimately connected with the life of the rear. It may be confidently stated that disorders in the rear will produce the same result among the armed forces. It is impossible to ask the army calmly to wage war while a revolution is in progress in the rear. The youthful makeup of the present army and its officer staff, among whom a very high percentage consist of reservists and commissioned university students, gives no grounds for assuming that the army will not react to events occurring in Russia.

  Insofar as the Duma was trying to restore order in the rear, Alekseev continued, it should be given the opportunity to form a cabinet of national confidence.110 He followed this cable with the draft of a manifesto prepared, at his request, by N. A. Basily, the chief of the diplomatic chancellery at headquarters,111 in which Nicholas empowered the Duma to form a cabinet. Alekseev’s recommendation was endorsed by Grand Duke Sergei Mikhailovich, the Inspector of Artillery and the Tsar’s cousin once removed.

  Around 10 p.m., while these messages were en route, Nicholas received General Ruzskii. In response to the Tsar’s request that he give free expression to his opinions, Ruzskii came out in support of a Duma cabinet. Having heard him out, Nicholas explained why he disagreed. As Ruzskii later recounted:

  The sovereign’s basic thought was that he wished nothing for himself, in his own interest, that he held on to nothing, but that he did not feel he had the right to transfer the entire task of administering Russia into the hands of people who, being in power today, could inflict grievous harm on the fatherland and tomorrow wash their hands, “handing in their resignation.” “I am accountable to God and Russia for all that has happened and will happen,” the sovereign said. “It is a matter of no consequence that the ministers will be responsible to the Duma and State Council. If I see that they are not acting for Russia’s good, I will never be able to agree with them, consoling myself with the thought that this is not the work of my hands, not my responsibility.”

  When Ruzskii urged the Tsar to adopt the formula “The sovereign reigns and the government rules,” Nicholas said that

  this formula was incomprehensible to him, that he would have had to be differently brought up,
to be reborn.… The Tsar, with remarkable lucidity, ran through the opinions of all those who could, in the near future, administer Russia in the capacity of ministers responsible to the [legislative] chambers, and expressed the conviction that the civic activists who would undoubtedly form the first cabinet had no administrative experience and, having been entrusted with the burden of authority, would prove unable to cope with their task.

  112

  The conversation with Ruzskii ended around 11:30 p.m., at which time Nicholas was handed Alekseev’s cable with Basily’s draft manifesto. The documents from the highest officer in the armed forces made on him a deep impression. After retiring for a few minutes, Nicholas recalled Ruzskii and told him he had made two decisions. Ruzskii was to inform Rodzianko and Alekseev that he would yield and allow the Duma to form a cabinet. The second order concerned Ivanov. He was to be sent a message reading: “Until my arrival and receipt of your report, please undertake no action.”*

  With these instructions, Nicholas gave up the idea of suppressing the Petrograd disorders and took the path of political conciliation. He hoped that his concessions would, in time, have the same calming effect on the country as the Manifesto of October 17, 1905.*

  The date was March 2, the time 1 a.m. Nicholas retired to his sleeping car, but he stayed awake through the night, tormented by doubts whether his concessions would work and by worries about his family: “My thoughts and feelings are all the time there,” he wrote in the diary, “how hard it must be on poor Alix to go through all this by herself.” He was still awake at 5:15 a.m.113 Ruzskii contacted Rodzianko at 3:30 a.m. Their conversation, which lasted four hours, was to have a decisive influence on Nicholas’s decision to abdicate, because from it Ruzskii and, through him, the other commanding generals learned how desperate the situation in Petrograd had grown and realized that the manifesto granting the Duma the power to form a ministry had come too late.114 They, in turn, exerted on Nicholas pressures to abdicate.

  Ruzskii advised Rodzianko that the Tsar had consented to the formation of a cabinet appointed by and responsible to the legislature. Rodzianko responded:

  It is obvious that His Majesty and you do not realize what is going on here. One of the most terrible revolutions has broken out, which it will not be so easy to quell.… The troops are completely demoralized, they not only disobey but kill their officers. Hatred of Her Majesty has reached extreme limits.… I must inform you that what you propose is no longer adequate, and the dynastic question has been raised point-blank.

  In response to Ruzskii’s request for clarification, Rodzianko answered that

  troops everywhere are joining the Duma and the people and there is a definite, terrible demand for abdication in favor of the [Tsar’s] son under a regency of Michael Aleksandrovich.

  †

  He recommended that the dispatch of front-line troops to Petrograd be halted “since they will not move against the people.”

  As Ruzskii conversed with Rodzianko, the tapes of their exchange were passed on to telegraphists to be forwarded to Alekseev. Alekseev was stunned by what he read. At 9 a.m. (March 2), he wired to Pskov a request that the Tsar be awakened at once (“All etiquette must be set aside”) and shown the Ruzskii-Rodzianko tapes—at stake was the fate not only of the Tsar but of the dynasty and Russia herself.115 A general on the other end of the Hughes telegraph responded that the Tsar had just fallen asleep and that Ruzskii was scheduled to report to him in an hour.

  Alekseev and the other generals at headquarters now decided that there was no alternative. Nicholas would have to follow Rodzianko’s advice and abdicate.116 But Alekseev knew the Tsar well enough to realize that he would do so only under the pressure of the military command. So he took it upon himself to communicate the text of the Ruzskii-Rodzianko conversation to the commanders of the fronts and fleets. He accompanied it with a personal recommendation that Nicholas step down in favor of Alexis and Michael, in order to save the armed forces, make it possible to pursue the war, and safeguard Russia’s national integrity as well as the dynasty. He requested the recipients to communicate their views directly to Pskov, with copies to himself.117

  Ruzskii reported to Nicholas at 10:45 a.m. bearing the tapes of his conversation with Rodzianko. Nicholas read them in silence. Having finished, he went to the window of his railway car and stood motionless, looking out. When he turned around, he said that he would consider Rodzianko’s recommendation. He added that he thought the people would not understand such a move, that the Old Believers would not forgive him for betraying the coronation oath and the Cossacks for abandoning the front.118 He affirmed

  his strong conviction that he had been born for misfortune, that he brought Russia great misfortune. He said that he had realized clearly the night before that no manifesto [about the Duma ministry] would be of help.… “If it is necessary, for Russia’s welfare, that I step aside, I am prepared to do so.”

  119

  At this point, Ruzskii was handed the cable from Alekseev requesting his opinion of Alekseev’s recommendation that Nicholas abdicate. Ruzskii read the message aloud to the Tsar.120

  Around 2 p.m., Pskov was in receipt of the army commanders’ responses to Alekseev’s cable. All agreed with Alekseev. Grand Duke Nikolai Nikolaevich begged the Tsar “on his knees” to give up the crown to save Russia and the dynasty. General A. E. Evert, who commanded the Western Front, and General A. A. Brusilov, in charge of the Southwestern Front, concurred. General V. V. Sakharov of the Romanian Front thought the Provisional Government “a gang of bandits” but he, too, saw no way of avoiding abdication.*

  Ruzskii called on Nicholas again, between 2 and 3:00 p.m., accompanied by Generals Iu. N. Danilov and S. S. Savvich and bearing the cables from Nikolai Nikolaevich and the other front commanders.121 After perusing them, Nicholas requested the three generals to state their frank opinion. They responded, with much emotion, that in their view, too, the Tsar had no choice but to step down. After a moment of silence, Nicholas crossed himself and said that he was prepared to do so. The generals also made the sign of the cross. Nicholas then retired, reappearing a quarter of an hour later (at 3:05 p.m.) with two messages that he had written by hand on telegraphic blanks, one addressed to Rodzianko, the other to Alekseev. The first read:

  There is no sacrifice that I would not make for the sake of the true well-being and salvation of our Mother Russia. For that reason, I am prepared to renounce the throne in favor of My Son, with the understanding that He will remain with Me until attaining maturity, and that My Brother, Michael Aleksandrovich, will serve as Regent.

  122

  The cable to Alekseev was essentially the same except that it made no mention of the regency.123

  Nicholas requested headquarters to draft an abdication manifesto. Alekseev entrusted the task to Basily. Drawing on the Code of Laws, Basily drafted the text, which at 7:40 p.m. was wired to Pskov for the Tsar’s signature.124

  All the evidence indicates that Nicholas abdicated from patriotic motives: the wish to spare Russia a humiliating defeat and to save her armed forces from disintegration. The argument which swayed him was the unanimous opinion of the commanders of the disparate fronts, especially the cable from Nikolai Nikolaevich.* No less significant is the fact that Nicholas carried on talks about his abdication, not with the Duma and its Provisional Government, but with General Alekseev, as if to emphasize that he was abdicating to the armed forces and at their request. If Nicholas’s foremost concern had been with preserving his throne he would have quickly made peace with Germany and used front-line troops to crush the rebellion in Petrograd and Moscow. He chose instead, to give up the crown to save the front.

  Although Nicholas showed no emotion throughout this ordeal, abdication was for him an immense sacrifice: not because he craved either the substance of power or its trappings—the one he thought a heavy burden, the other a tedious imposition—but because he felt that by this action he was betraying his oath to God and country.125

  Hi
s trials were not yet over. At the very instant when he was signing the pledge to abdicate, in Petrograd two delegates from the Provisional Committee, Shulgin and Guchkov, were boarding a special train bound for Pskov. They carried their own draft of an abdication manifesto, hoping to extract from Nicholas what, unknown to them, he had already conceded. They were sent by the Provisional Committee, which had decided the preceding night that it required the Tsar’s abdication to begin functioning. The hope of the government was that by acting swiftly it could present the country with a new tsar, the child Alexis, before the Soviet proclaimed Russia a republic.

  As he was leaving the Imperial train, Ruzskii was told that Shulgin and Guchkov were on their way. He informed Nicholas and was requested to return the cables to Rodzianko and Alekseev. Ruzskii thought that the two deputies, both known monarchists, could be carrying a message from the Duma that would enable Nicholas to retain the throne.126

  While awaiting their arrival, Nicholas sent for Professor S. P. Fedorov, the Court physician, to inquire about the prospects of Alexis’s recovery. He told Fedorov of Rasputin’s prediction that upon reaching the age of thirteen—that is, in 1917—Alexis would be completely cured. Was that correct? The physician responded that such a recovery would be a miracle, for medicine knew of no cure for hemophilia. Even so, Alexis could live for many years. He further expressed the personal opinion that it would be inconceivable that after abdicating Nicholas would be permitted to keep his son, now installed as tsar, with him, because he would almost certainly be required to go into exile abroad.127 On hearing this, Nicholas changed his mind. He would not part with the boy: therefore, instead of abdicating in favor of Alexis he would hand the crown to Michael.