Lenin: A Biography

by Robert John Service

  He obtained at least some of what he wanted. He got a show trial of Socialist Revolutionaries, but not of Mensheviks; and the death penalty, against his wishes, was not imposed. By contrast at the trial of Orthodox Church personnel the Politburo sanctioned the executions he had demanded. Above all, the principle of using the courts and the Cheka to traumatise the opposition to the one-party, one-ideology state was enthusiastically fulfilled.

  But there remained a doubt that Darkevich’s reassuring diagnosis was correct across the range of symptoms. A succession of specialists came out to inspect him, including the surgeon Julius Borchardt and the physician Georg Klemperer from Germany at the daily rate of 20,000 marks apiece.19 The entire medical file on the man came under investigation: his childhood eyesight problems, the stomach ailments of early manhood, the headaches and insomnia, the St Anthony’s fire, the recent transient ischaemic attacks, the listlessness and the obsessions. The doctors were in a quandary. The only point of agreement was that rest alone would not restore him. Klemperer maintained that the bullet lodged in his neck since 1918 had to be removed if ever he was to be cured. The hypothesis was that the headaches were the result of the lead in the bullet poisoning the brain. (The fact that Lenin had suffered chronically from headaches before being shot outside the Mikhelson Factory was not taken into account.) It was noted how nervy Lenin was under medical examination, but this was thought to be a secondary problem resulting from overwork: neurasthenia. The main illness, according to Klemperer, was produced by the bullet’s toxic effects. Klemperer got his way even though Professor Vladimir Rozanov, with the support of Professor Borchardt, argued against the operation. Then Borchardt, having tried in vain to hand the surgical task to Rozanov, performed the operation at the Soldatenkov Hospital on 23 April.20

  Thus the bullet was extracted, and when Lenin awoke next morning at eight o’clock the first signs were that Klemperer’s suggestion had proved successful. Lenin did not even feel pain in his neck.21 But unfortunately this encouraging situation did not last; scarcely had a month passed after the operation when, on 25 May 1922, Lenin suffered a massive stroke out at Gorki. He was picked up and put in his bed, and the doctors waited to see whether he would survive. The whole right side of his body was rendered immobile. He had difficulty speaking. His mind was confused; he was desperate. His recovery was obviously going to be long and uncertain. Fortunately the manor house had by then been well set up for the purpose, and Nadezhda Konstantinovna and Maria Ilinichna reorganised and reduced their other duties and shared the business of looking after him.

  Lenin was again seen by doctors in rapid succession, and a great concilium of them took place on 29 May. Its members included Kozhevnikov, Rossolino and Kramer as well as the Ulyanov family doctor, Fëdor Gete, and the People’s Commissar of Health Nikolai Semashko. Some of them felt that Darkevich’s diagnosis of over-exhaustion had been wrong. But exactly what was wrong with Lenin? The neuropathologist A. M. Kozhevnikov, who had written a study of syphilis, conducted a Wassermann test on Lenin’s blood on 29 May. Next day his place was taken by the ophthalmologist Mikhail Averbakh. The official story was that these examinations conclusively rejected syphilis, especially when the Wassermann proved negative. But other symptoms left doubts. Presumably it was for this reason that Professors Kozhevnikov and Förster went on prescribing injections of arsenic-based preparations for Lenin, which was a conventional anti-syphilitic treatment at that time.22 Unfortunately, despite the mountain of information filed on Lenin at the time, the blood analyses have gone missing.23 These would tell present-day pathologists beyond peradventure whether he had syphilis, and their absence gives rise to the suspicion that the Soviet political leadership, wanting to preserve the image of Lenin as a morally pure individual, removed or destroyed embarrassing archives.

  What can be stated with confidence is that some doctors thought that he had syphilis and others denied this. In the latter group remained Darkevich and he was joined by the neuropathologist Grigori Rossolino, a Russian of Italian descent. Rossolino bluntly told Lenin that he had been hoping that he was suffering from syphilis since it was at least curable. But, while some symptoms pointed in this direction, others surely did not. Professor Rossolino concluded that the illness was even more serious than syphilis and the general prognosis for the patient was grim.

  The concilium of doctors whittled their discussions down to a small number of possibilities. One was that he had syphilis; this possibility continued to be discussed in 1923 when Professor A. Strumpel, Germany’s leading specialist on neurosyphilis, concluded that Lenin was suffering from ‘endarteriitis luetica’. This was the Latin term for a syphilitic inflammation of the artery linings.24 Another possibility was that he was suffering from ‘neurasthenia’, or nervous exhaustion, as the result of massive overwork. Almost certainly this was what had been said to him two decades previously by a Swiss specialist; and now Förster, while identifying toxin from the lead bullet as the primary problem, affirmed that neurasthenia too was harming him.25 The third possible diagnosis, according to some of the doctors, was that the surgical operation to remove the bullet from his neck had caused damage. Naturally Klemperer did not like this opinion since it was he who had recommended the operation. The fourth and last hypothesis was cerebral arteriosclerosis. Lenin’s father had reportedly died of it in 1886 and might well have passed on the condition to his son. The subsequent medical history of the other Ulyanovs was to point in the same direction. Anna Ilinichna travelled incognito across the border to Latvia in 1922 to a sanatorium, and she died after a stroke and chronic paralysis in 1935; two years later Maria Ilinichna failed to survive a heart attack, and Dmitri Ilich died of stenocardia – the constriction of the blood vessels joined to the heart – in 1943.26

  Nor could the doctors discount the suggestion that Lenin was suffering from a combination of the various possibilities. In truth the patient’s condition baffled them and they continued to argue with each other. Only one idea united them. This was that Lenin had to cut down drastically on his political activity. A certain Professor Obukh was given the task of informing him. Failure to hearken to this advice, Lenin was told unequivocally, would result in another stroke or death. Lenin raised an objection that his daily routine was not one of great strain since he neither drank too much nor led ‘a dissolute life’.27 But Obukh would not budge. Lenin’s survival depended entirely on his taking a lengthy break from his public responsibilities. While outwardly agreeing to their recommendations, in reality he was planning to trick the medical staff. His own researches in the medical textbooks convinced him that there was no hope for him. Rather than suffer paralysis, he again determined to commit suicide, and on 30 May he summoned Stalin to Gorki. They kissed in the Russian manner on greeting. Then Lenin asked his visitor to get the poison to do the job. Stalin conferred with Bukharin and Maria Ilinichna outside the bedroom. They agreed that Stalin should go back and explain to Lenin that the prognosis of the optimistic doctors should be believed. On this occasion, Lenin agreed. He would delay killing himself a little longer.28

  But what really was wrong with him? Medical science has progressed in the ensuing decades and would be able, if Lenin were now a patient, to diagnose his illness more easily. One of the possible causes would no longer be seriously entertained: neurasthenia. Today this condition, so readily diagnosed until the middle of the twentieth century, is seldom recognised as a genuine disease. Of the three main remaining diagnoses each has something plausible about it. If it were not for the negative result of the Wasserman test, syphilis would be a credible guess. If it were not for the fact that he had had minor strokes before 1922, the surgical removal of the bullet might be credible. Yet the fact remains that some of Lenin’s doctors believed he was syphilitic even though, apparently, he failed to come up positive on the Wasserman test. Nor can it be disproved that the operation on the bullet fatally worsened an existing condition. Then again perhaps Professor Osipov got it right when suggesting that Lenin was suffering f
rom atherosclerosis or a ‘hardening of the arteries’. Often it is associated with a high pressure of blood against the arterial walls. The affected arteries in Lenin’s case, as was revealed after his death in 1924, were linked to the brain.

  In the West this is scarcely a topic of intense interest. In Russia, however, the communist authorities propagated an image of Lenin as a morally pure individual, and the consequence is that many contemporary historians have been searching to prove that he died of a venereal disease.29 Thus it is implied that he was sexually promiscuous. It is an understandable quest. But it is driven by motives outside the limits of medical history. And until further information comes to light, no useful conclusion may be offered.

  Whatever the causes, a major stroke had occurred. The only sensible restorative measure for Lenin was his complete retirement from active politics. Even this would not bring about a cure, only the postponement of a further stroke. But, if Lenin had thought this, he would have killed himself as he had planned. Instead he was persuaded by the medical team that they would be able to restore his health and enable him to return to the Politburo and Sovnarkom. He seemed genuinely cheerful as he began little by little to recover. He read books. He wrote notes to the Politburo. He began to potter around again, and took an interest in the agricultural work at Gorki. Above all, he was kept informed about Kremlin politics since Stalin, as the party’s General Secretary, travelled out to the Gorki sanatorium for face-to-face discussions. Maria Ilinichna was asked by Lenin to put out a bottle of red wine so as to make Stalin feel properly welcome. Sitting out on the sunny terrace, Lenin and Stalin could talk things over. Lenin aimed to reassure himself that all was well in the Politburo, Central Committee and Sovnarkom. For this purpose he had approved the election of Stalin as General Secretary, and the early signs were that Stalin had been a good choice.

  There were abundant occasions for relaxation. A dog was obtained for him, Aida, which looked just like Zhenka, the dog he had owned in his Siberian exile.30 Lenin was delighted. He also took gentle strolls around the woods in search of mushrooms just as he had done when first he lived with Nadezhda Konstantinovna in Shushenskoe. They paid visits, too, to the state collective farm that had been carved out of the estate at Gorki. This was not quite so happy an experience since Lenin did not think that the farm chairman was very good at his job.31

  But Lenin did not interfere. Instead he made his own arrangements for different forms of husbandry to be introduced to the area adjacent to the sanatorium. He was keen to foster rabbit-rearing and bee-keeping. ‘If I can’t get involved in politics,’ he said, ‘then I’ll have to get involved in agriculture.’32 He had faced the choice between agriculture and politics in Alakaevka in 1889–90 when his mother wanted him as her estate manager. Agriculture had been second best in his estimation at that time, and so it remained in 1922; for he did not genuinely intend to drop politics: he was using these hobbies as a way of passing the time before he returned to his Kremlin duties. Occasionally he made this clear. When the doctors insisted that he gave up work, he replied with huge pathos: ‘There’s nothing else I have.’33 Nothing, in his mind, should get in the way of his struggle to get back to normality in Moscow. He found, for example, that his nerves were set a-jangle when anyone played the piano in the house. His sensitivity to ambient sound had become more acute than ever, and Maria Ilinichna banned music from the house forthwith.34

  His greatest pleasure came not from hobbies but from the presence of children. Dmitri Ulyanov’s young son Viktor frequently came out to stay with his Uncle Volodya. So, too, did the daughter of a Moscow female worker as well as Inessa Armand’s daughter Inna and son Alexander. They were by then in their twenties. It is clear that Lenin and Krupskaya would have loved to have had children of their own, and the visits of these young people brought them joy. They felt a responsibility for the Armands after Inessa’s death, and Lenin gave orders for them to be well looked after.35

  Not everyone approved of the invitation to the Armands. Maria Ilinichna, by now a crabby spinster in her mid-forties, believed that her brother needed a respite from the social round and that every such visit had an adverse effect on him.36 It is also possible that she objected to these young people because of the relationship between Lenin and Inessa. Nadya, however, felt otherwise and a blazing row took place between the two women. Lenin, hearing Nadya’s report on the incident, became so upset that he began to be afflicted by one of his severe headaches.37 Lenin’s personal bodyguard Pëtr Pakaln could see no way round the problem but to request the removal of the Armands. But this was not the end of the matter. Later in the summer Nadya wrote again to ‘my sweet girl’ Inna Armand – the daughter of the deceased Inessa – inviting her to stay at Gorki:38

  Well, why can’t you stay with us? On the contrary, this year we’re going to live in a more ‘family-like fashion’ and more ‘openly’ since it’s impossible to occupy V.I. more than eight hours a day and anyway there’s need of a break twice a week. Therefore he’ll be delighted to have guests. He was very concerned when I told him you were ill and wrote a special letter to Zhidelëv about you and about [one of his secretaries] Lidia Alexandrovna [Fotieva], asking him to look after you.

  It is hard to believe that Nadya was inventing Lenin’s thoughts out of the air. She recognised that the visits were truly important for him, and wanted to help him.

  The disagreeable atmosphere was stoked up but not created by the dispute about the children. Nadya and Maria were forever struggling with each other. Any little incident could touch off an explosion. In July 1922, the Bolshevik editor Nikolai Meshcheryakov had visited Lenin for two hours. Lenin’s bodyguard Pëtr Pakaln observed the scene:39

  But, since comrade Meshcheryakov was not offered any tea during his visit, Nadezhda Konstantinovna complained to Ilich, who became terribly distraught and on the same day issued a rebuke to Maria and also to Sasha [the maid] for their lack of attention to visitors, and he ordered them henceforth to feed everyone coming to the house.

  Maria’s recollection of the events was different. Lenin’s reaction had indeed been sharp: ‘A comrade travelled out to a house like this and no one could even give him a bite to eat.’ But Maria disclaimed responsibility, saying that she had been ‘hoping’ that Nadya would look after Meshcheryakov. According to Maria, Lenin’s reply was: ‘Well, she’s too well-known a slattern [fefëla] for anyone to rely on her.’40 While this was hardly an expression of total support for his sister, it was abusive language to use about his wife.

  Nadya and Maria, his wife and his sister, were fighting for possession of Lenin. Each whispered in his ear about the shortcomings of the other. It would seem that he did not want to take sides openly and definitively. He had always used the interplay of emotions among his relatives to his advantage. The problem in mid-1922 was that he was no longer in a dominant position because of ill health. What he most needed was that Nadya and Maria calm down and find a modus vivendi. In subsequent months they composed themselves; but they continued to take opposite approaches to his convalescence. Maria thought it stupid of Professor Klemperer, who had not covered himself with glory by instigating surgery upon Lenin in April, to let him read newspapers and talk to visiting politicians.41 By contrast Nadya felt that without this minimal political activity he would become demoralised, and she complied – even colluded – with his requests for information.

  Nadya was bound to hold sway, if only because she was doing what her wilful husband wanted. She also had a better way of managing him. Maria taught herself how to take photographs in order to record her brother’s appearance for posterity;42 but it was Nadya who sat with him for hours and talked him round to feeling that he might recover. She helped him, too, with the manual exercises that his doctors said would be necessary. Basket weaving was among these.43 The road to recuperation was bestrewn with obstacles. One day Lenin was progressing and seemed almost as he had been before the stroke of May 1922. The next day he could be hobbling or worse. He collapsed frequen
tly, and had to be carried back to his bedroom. His mood, not surprisingly, was volatile. He raged to get back to the Kremlin and to resume control. He had always been reluctant to allow others to take supreme command, and the enforced convalescence made him exceedingly edgy. At the slightest resistance to his wishes, he could fly into a temper. He had had this potential even before, but in this period he was very irritable and obsessive. But, although he had admitted this to Professor Darkevich in March, he did not and probably could not restrain himself.

  Thus in July he announced the need for a transformation of the entire Central Committee with its twenty-seven members elected under his aegis at the Eleventh Party Congress. He had the gall to suggest that the Central Committee should be cut down to just three members and that none of the most influential party leaders – Trotski, Stalin, Zinoviev, Kamenev, Dzierżyński and Bukharin – should belong to it. His proposed Central Committee would consist of Central Committee Secretaries Molotov and Kuibyshev and Sovnarkom Deputy Chairman Rykov. As an additional insult, he suggested that Kamenev, Zinoviev and Lenin’s least favourite colleague in the previous year, Tomski, should serve under them as candidate members. Lenin’s pretext was that the Central Committee as presently constituted was too tired to discharge its functions properly. Its members, too, needed a period of convalescence.44 The outrageous criticism of his colleagues’ efficiency barely concealed an implicit claim that he alone had the talent to run the Central Committee. It was a claim to which he returned in the last weeks of 1922 when he dictated what became known as his Political Testament. His external modesty was often charming; but underneath lay the arrogance of the person who believes in his natural right to be the supreme leader.