Spies and Commissars

by Robert Service

  Apparently democracy and civic freedoms were all right for the British but not necessarily appropriate for Russians. And the report ended with the comment: ‘We cannot forget that the responsibility for these conditions resulting from foreign interference rests not upon the revolutionaries of Russia, but upon the Capitalist Governments of other countries, including our own.’69

  The individual accounts by visitors were much less bland. H. G. Wells wrote up his thoughts in Russia in the Shadows: ‘Ruin: that is the primary Russian fact at the present time.’70 He did not attempt an analysis of Bolshevism, and he could not resist a satirical aside:

  A gnawing desire drew up on me to see Karl Marx shaved. Some day, if I am spared, I will take up shears and a razor against Das Kapital; I will write The Shaving of Karl Marx.

  But Marx is for the Marxists merely an image and a symbol, and it is with Marxists that we now are dealing.71

  Yet Wells also insisted that the communist order had more support in Russia than any of its Russian opponents, either on Russia’s soil or abroad, were ever likely to gather.72The Times gave his account a backhanded compliment:

  The merit — and it is a real merit — of Mr H. G. Wells’s book on Bolshevist Russia is that it tells us nothing new, either about Russia or about himself. It adds the evidence of one more sympathiser with communist ideals to the testimony of so many other witnesses with similar leanings on the utter and dismal breakdown of the Bolshevist system.73

  Wells had gone out to Russia with a favourable opinion of communism; his disillusionment carried weight.

  Bertrand Russell’s book The Theory and Practice of Bolshevism described a similar reaction: ‘I went to Russia a communist, but contact with those who have no doubts has intensified a thousandfold my own doubts, not as to Communism itself, but as to the wisdom of holding a creed so firmly that for its sake men are willing to inflict widespread misery.’74 Russell had done his homework and peppered his conversation with Lenin with awkward questions. He interpreted Bolshevism as a secular religion. About Lenin he reported:

  I think if I had met him without knowing who he was, I should not have guessed that he was a great man; he struck me as too opinionated and narrowly orthodox. His strength comes, I imagine, from his honesty, courage, and unwavering faith — religious faith in the Marxian gospel, which takes the place of the Christian martyr’s hopes of Paradise, except that it is less egotistical. He has as little love of liberty as the Christians who suffered under Diocletian, and retaliated when they acquired power. Perhaps love of liberty is incompatible with wholehearted belief in a panacea for all human ills. If so, I cannot but rejoice in the sceptical temper of the Western world.75

  Russell refused to exercise any toleration of intolerance. He also turned on the Western socialists who suppressed mention of what they saw with their own eyes on trips to Moscow. Communist harshness, he argued, could not be explained away by the military intervention of Britain and France. Although war and blockade had undoubtedly made things worse, the fundamental cause lay in the doctrines of the Bolshevik leaders.

  Nonetheless Russell’s hostile testimony was inconsistent with some of his private comments. He wrote to his friend Ottoline Morrell from Stockholm:

  I was stifled and oppressed by the weight of the machine as by a cope of lead. Yet I think it the right government for Russia at this moment. If you ask yourself how Dostoevsky’s characters should be governed, you will understand. Yet it is terrible. They are a nation of artists, down to the simplest peasant; the aim of the Bolsheviks is to make them industrial and as Yankee as possible. Imagine yourself governed by a mixture of Sidney Webb and [British Ambassador to Washington] Rufus Isaacs, and you will have a picture of modern Russia.76

  Whereas The Theory and Practice of Bolshevism was a work of lasting value, Russell was tempted into silliness when corresponding with his clever London friends; and his prescription for the ‘nation of artists’ was condescending at best, callous at worst. His mistress Dora Black, soon to be his second wife, was even sillier. She had always given intellectual approval to the Soviet order and did not modify her ideas when she subsequently made her own trip to Russia — Russell had refused to take her with him. Black enjoyed shocking him by saying that ‘she liked Russia just about as much as [he] had hated it’. She scoffed at his opinions as ‘bourgeois and senile and sentimental’.77

  The disagreement between the future spouses was a microcosm of the debates about Soviet Russia on the political left. Quite apart from out-and-out communists, the Bolsheviks had many admirers — and the degrees of approval varied from individual to individual. But there were also plenty of detractors who saw very clearly that the communist revolutionary project could bring the entire labour movement into disrepute. However many delegations went to Moscow, the disagreement was likely to remain.

  27. THE SPREADING OF COMINTERN

  The British Labour delegation had been remarkably incurious about global revolution in their talks with Soviet leaders. Whether out of naivety or politeness, they barely mentioned Comintern and its activities abroad. Although Ethel Snowden knew that Lenin had a ‘great interest’ in insurrections around the globe, she still did not discuss this with him when she had the chance. In Moscow she gained the impression that Comintern was a pretty feeble organization, and she claimed that this was how Russian communist acquaintances felt. They had told her that the policy of excluding weak or wavering groups on the European political far left ‘would so restrict [Comintern’s] members that it could not become effective as it is’.1 And with that, Mrs Snowden moved on to topics closer to her heart. Most fellow members of the Labour delegation did not even mention Comintern in their reports. This obviously made it easy for Soviet leaders to sidestep the topic. Whereas they had endlessly asked questions about Bolshevism in Russia, they failed to enquire about Bolshevik ambitions in Europe.

  But those ambitions were very real and, since the First Comintern Congress in 1919, Comintern had been the main agency used to realize them. There was indeed no other option while the Red Army and Cheka were tied down in the Civil War. Funds were disbursed to find zealots in every country who would split with the socialists and social-democrats and set up a communist organization. World revolution was an openly stated objective. The Kremlin was in charge from the start and knocked back the objections of Hugo Eberlein, the Spartacist delegate, who did not see why the Russians should boss everyone around. Eberlein objected to the March 1919 gathering calling itself a formally constituted congress. He thought that the cart was being put before the horse, arguing that the global map should be densely dotted with communist parties before any congress could take place.2 Eberlein got nowhere; Lenin and his comrades simply reverted to tricks they had used before the Great War. They stuffed the ‘delegations’ with trusted foreigners, including several who were living permanently in Russia — Boris Reinstein was allowed to attend for the American Socialist Party and Khristo Rakovski for the Balkan Revolutionary Social-Democratic Federation. There were thirty-four voting delegates and the Bolsheviks had assured themselves a majority on all matters: Eberlein was the only person even to abstain in the vote for the formal proclamation of Comintern.

  Even if Rosa Luxemburg had been present, it is far from certain that she could have successfully counteracted the psychological cunning of the Bolsheviks. The Congress delegates were taken to Petrograd to visit the places of communist glory in 1917. They went to the Finland Station where Lenin and Trotsky had arrived from abroad. They wandered the corridors of the Smolny Institute. They gazed at the Winter Palace. The effect was to dazzle them with the achievements of the Soviet order. The foreign delegates came away with the impression that the Bolsheviks were giants walking the earth. Bright applause greeted Lenin and Trotsky whenever they appeared. Lenin delivered the introductory report and offered ‘theses’ on bourgeois democracy and proletarian dictatorship. Bukharin supplied a ‘platform’ and Trotsky a ‘manifesto’. Trotsky also gave a spirited speech on the Red Ar
my, praising the achievements of ‘socialist militarism’. (This kind of belligerence disconcerted Arthur Ransome but did not put an end to his admiration for Trotsky.) The official drafts and orations won a warm reception. Reports by foreign delegates on revolutionary possibilities abroad invariably supported the line marked out by the Bolshevik leaders, who got the Congress they had planned for.3

  Lenin and Trotsky performed with a commendable display of modesty and humour, as exemplified by an incident on the last day of the proceedings. After the singing of the Internationale it was time for the official photographs, but Trotsky had stepped down from the stage. The photographer complained loudly till the People’s Commissar for Military Affairs returned. There was much merriment when someone joked that Soviet Russia had installed the Dictatorship of the Photographer.4

  It was ultimately intended that Comintern would be run by its Executive Committee, but until everything was sorted out it was agreed to hand authority to ‘comrades of the country where the Executive Committee is’.5 The natural assumption was that either Trotsky or Lenin would chair the Comintern Executive Committee. But this was impractical since Trotsky needed to travel to the front lines of the Civil War and Lenin had onerous duties in Sovnarkom and the Politburo. It was decided to give the Comintern post to Zinoviev, which was something of a surprise since he had originally opposed the seizure of power in Petrograd in 1917. But Zinoviev had made up for this by showing solidarity with Lenin ever since. Although he ran the Petrograd administration, he was ambitious to prove himself on the international stage and there was no obviously better candidate among the Russians. He set about his new job by demanding lavish funding from the Bolshevik leadership in Moscow. His request was met, and when the Executive Committee met for the first time on 26 March 1919 Zinoviev announced that credit facilities to the value of one million rubles had been opened for Comintern.6 In May the budget was raised to three million.7 Despite the size of these sums, much of Comintern’s activity was carried out in the traditions of the pre-revolutionary political underground. When Lenin decided that a million pounds sterling had to be transferred to Zinoviev in Petrograd, the Party Central Committee Secretary Yelena Stasova physically took it by train from Moscow.8

  The founding documents — theses, platform and manifesto — were evasive about Comintern’s purposes. One objective alone was clearly set out: world revolution. How Comintern would attain it was left unspecified apart from through the establishment of communist parties and the promotion of revolutionary struggle. The interests of Soviet Russia were to be taken into account in every foreign operation; this did not need to be spelled out since everyone already agreed on it. Comintern refrained from admitting that its purse strings were held by the Bolshevik leadership. Nor was anything said about the requirement to submit all big decisions in advance to the scrutiny of the Bolsheviks. The fact that Zinoviev chaired the Executive Committee was not thought enough by itself: the Russian Communist Party expected to initiate policy, with Zinoviev carrying out whatever the Politburo demanded of him. Comintern was going to send out its agents to distribute money and attract followers. Communist parties had to be created. Newspapers needed to be started and printing presses acquired. The message of communism had to be disseminated to the working classes. Trotsky and the People’s Commissariat of Foreign Affairs had begun this work in 1917–18. Comintern was empowered to intensify and expand it.

  The set-up had the advantage of deflecting the attention of foreign governments from the People’s Commissariat. Chicherin had until then been sending out ‘plenipotentiaries’ who were already suspected — usually quite reasonably — of subversive activity. Ostensibly Comintern was based on Russian territory by historical accident. The Bolshevik leaders could pretend to have no authority over revolutionary actions designed to bring down capitalism around the globe.

  But although Chicherin could now mask Soviet pretensions abroad, he could not make them disappear. The People’s Commissariat of Foreign Affairs conducted business for a state that needed to spread the message of revolution to foreign working classes if Sovnarkom was to survive the hostility of world capitalism. At the same time — until fraternal revolutions took place in powerful countries — Chicherin had to conciliate those governments willing to grant diplomatic recognition and open their economies to trade with Russia. Comintern’s open espousal of proletarian insurrection and dictatorship inevitably complicated his overtures. The work was made no easier by Zinoviev’s poaching of personnel from the People’s Commissariat. Even Litvinov and Vorovski were seconded to fulfil tasks for Comintern.9 This was bound to render them still more suspect in the eyes of states abroad and put obstacles in the path of Soviet diplomacy. Gradually Chicherin achieved agreement that Comintern should publicly be kept separate from the People’s Commissariat. Zinoviev saw the sense in this and asked to keep his own couriers rather than share them with Chicherin.10 In May 1919 the Politburo also ruled that Comintern alone should conduct illegal work abroad, and a ban was introduced on Soviet embassy personnel engaging in efforts that broke local law.11

  The separation of functions was never as neat in reality, and the Politburo muddled everything again by appointing Litvinov to oversee the Comintern budget.12 From Litvinov downwards, Soviet diplomats abroad remained in active contact with revolutionaries committed to insurrectionary violence. Chicherin, in fact, had no basic objection. His only stipulation was that embassy officials should carry out their clandestine functions without getting caught. He wanted world revolution no less fervently than Zinoviev.

  By July 1920, when the Second Comintern Congress took place, there had been much organizational progress. The Germans already had a communist party and the French and Italians were well on their way to establishing theirs. Advances in America and Britain were slower as the Executive Committee put militants under pressure to form a single party in each country. The path towards this end was being smoothed by Comintern’s money, which always went to communists who toed the Russian line. Comintern leaders picked the British Socialist Party as the likeliest instrument for the Soviet cause in the United Kingdom. Being to the left of the Labour Party, it was a stalwart of the Hands Off Russia movement; and like all groups on the political extreme left, it was experiencing the torments of internal struggle — in this case between factions led by E. C. Fairchild and John Maclean. Their conflict was gradually surmounted through the intervention of Theodore Rothstein acting on Moscow’s orders. Rothstein’s own influence had risen through his close ties with the Kremlin, and he received a hearing before British militants which began the process that ended in splitting the British Socialist Party and creating the Communist Party of Great Britain in 1920.13

  The Second Comintern Congress imposed a universal scheme for communist parties to be organized on the Bolshevik model. The parties were to be centralized, hierarchical and disciplined. They had to recognize Comintern as the supreme authority on every matter of importance. ‘Internationalism’ was to take precedence over national concerns.

  Yet Comintern had a long way to go in the cause of creating communist parties everywhere, and delegates came to Moscow devoted to the cause but not yet leading large organizations. Their ways were rough and ready. The communist organization in Mexico chose three comrades, including the American political refugee Linn A. E. Gale, to represent it at the Second Congress. None of them, however, could go. As chance had it, the Japanese communist Keikichi Ishimoto was passing through Mexico City on his way to Moscow via the United States and Norway. Gale, who was himself not Mexican but an American in exile, warmed to Ishimoto as being ‘quite young but a fine, sincere fellow’. Gale and his comrades decided to transfer their credentials to him for use in the Congress proceedings.14 The fact that Mexico’s national representation passed so casually into the hands of an obscure Japanese says a lot about the haphazardness of the arrangements. In Brazil it was Comintern which took the initiative. Its agent, a certain Ramison, searched Rio de Janeiro for militants who might foun
d a communist party. He made his first approach to Edgard Leuenroth, who bluntly refused. Pressed to give his reasons, Leuenroth exclaimed: ‘Because I’m not a Bolshevist!’15 Ramison, though, knew that Comintern did not mind who created parties as long as they were created, and he eventually found people who would start the process for him. In Moscow, Zinoviev had confidence that the Executive Committee could cope with any difficulties that might arise. There would be many zigzags on the road to world revolution and the Bolshevik leaders were masters of the art of political manoeuvring.

  In July 1921 the Politburo set up a world trade union agency — Profintern — in parallel to Comintern. It was to be an international centre for unions that rejected working inside the capitalist system. Communists would lead and inspire Profintern, challenging the broader labour movement to fortify the resistance to governments and employers. In its first pronouncement Profintern made an open declaration of its hostility to the entire order of capitalism around the world.

  The Soviet authorities were not just looking to Europe and America. In September 1920 Zinoviev organized a Congress of the Peoples of the East in Baku. As the capital of Azerbaijan, the new Soviet republic, it appeared the best place for the communist leadership to signal to Muslim peoples that Moscow wanted to befriend national liberation movements. Joint action against the imperial powers was proposed. The treaty of Sèvres in August 1920 subjected the Middle East to British and French control, and the communist leaders in Moscow intended to exploit existing regional resentments as well as those which might arise as the result of the treaty. They also aimed to cause trouble for the United Kingdom in India. If Indians overturned British rule, the entire empire might fall apart — and the French imperial edifice might well collapse soon afterwards. Communism’s militant atheism was a barrier to the recruitment of followers since religious belief and affiliation was well-nigh universal in Asia. In Baku, therefore, care had to be taken to avoid giving offence to Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists and other believers; and communist speakers were under orders to avoid showing disrespect for popular traditions. The ‘peoples of the East’ were instead to be won over by the promise that Comintern could help them to break off the shackles of imperialism and modernize their economies and cultures. Communism would benefit from European and US capitalists losing their grip on the countries of Asia, Africa and Latin America.