Possibly I overstate that. Nonetheless, it was pointed out to the Tsar that the assassination was not officially sanctioned by the Serb government. Witte and a few others attempted to use this as an "out" for the Tsar so that Russia could refuse to go to war. The Tsar chose to ignore this option.MarvinTScamper said:Black Hand were all current or former Serbian military officers, yes? "No connection" with the government seems a little overzealous.
Old Nicky didn't want to go to war. Question is really did he get pushed into it anyway? Or did he just go reluctantly. Latter seems more likely, but maybe the powers around him forced it.Possibly I overstate that. Nonetheless, it was pointed out to the Tsar that the assassination was not officially sanctioned by the Serb government. Witte and a few others attempted to use this as an "out" for the Tsar so that Russia could refuse to go to war. The Tsar chose to ignore this option.
I think the Kaiser had more to do with war and the split with Russia then Nicky. His rejection of Bismark's policies (specifically the Reinsurane Treaty) put Russia and France together. Why the Kaiser decided to give Austria a blank check in Serbia and then get on cruise was beyond stupid.World War I begins
The Russian army was at least the equal of the German in manpower and materiel. Thanks to secret mobilizations before August 1, it was ready in the field only 3 days after the Germans. The Schlieffen Plan (Germany's tactical plan, which had counted on the Russians taking 3 weeks longer so that Germany could knock out France before turning to the East) was thus confounded, and The Germans were bogged down in fighting on 2 fronts.
Under pressure from the French, the Russians attacked the Germans in East Prussia to force them to withdraw troops from the Western Front. A bold attack by General Samsonov forced the Germans back, but then the Russians stopped and dispersed their forces to collect supplies and protect captured fortresses, which turned out to have no significance. This allowed the Germans to regroup their forces further south and destroy Samsonov's army in the Battle of Tannenberg. Moving their troops south again by rail, the Germans then defeated the Russians in the Battle of the Masurian Lakes (September 9-14), forcing the Russians to order a retreat. (These two victories made Generals Hindenburg and Ludendorff famous in Germany; their brilliant use of railroad cars to mass troops at the point of battle was reminiscent of Stonewall Jackson who 60 years earlier used the same strategy in the Shenandoah Valley.)
After this retreat the Eastern Front began to stabilize as the war of mobility gave way to a war of position. Sweeping offensives like those of August were abandoned as the armies discovered the advantages of defensive warfare and dug themselves in. Just as in the west, one entrenched machine-gunner was enough to repel a hundred infantrymen, and railways could bring up defenders much faster than the advancing troops could fill in the gaps at the front line.
It was at this point that Russia's military weaknesses began to show. Russia was not prepared for a war of attrition. Other European powers managed to adapt to this new type of industrial warfare. But Russia was divided socially, its political system was too rigid, and its economy too weak to bear the strain of a long war. Russia's single greatest asset, it's seemingly inexhaustible supply of peasant soldiers, would not turn out to be the advantage presumed before the war. To save money the army had given little formal training to those beyond the First Levy. But there were so many casualties in the first months of the war that it soon found itself having to call on poorly trained reserves.
The lack of a clear command structure was the army's biggest weakness. As I mentioned Grand Duke Nikolai and General Sukhomlinov detested each other. Neither man had much military experience apart from their aristocratic backgrounds. Nikolai, as supreme commander, had never taken part in any serious fighting. Sukhomlinov, the Minister for War, was a salon soldier. He had done very little to prepare the army for combat. The command committed endless blunders. It had learned nothing from the conflict with Japan. In conducted the war after the pattern of a 19th century campaign, asking men to storm enemy artillery positions regardless of casualties, wasting resources on the obsolete calvary, defending useless fortresses in the rear, and neglecting the technological needs of modern artillery warfare. It scorned the art of building trenches, which on the Russian side were so primitive that they were little more than graves.
This is absolutely true, but I didn't want to get into it too much here since this thread is about Russia and that's enough to discuss!I think the Kaiser had more to do with war and the split with Russia then Nicky. His rejection of Bismark's policies (specifically the Reinsurane Treaty) put Russia and France together. Why the Kaiser decided to give Austria a blank check in Serbia and then get on cruise was beyond stupid.
The bolded is an absolutely fascinating question: how much did the Tsar know, how much should he have known?For several narratives now, it has been a reoccurring theme that the Russian people didn't know the true nature of the Alexie/Rasputin connection. In the same way, it seems as if the Tsar & Tsarina also did not know of the questioning and wonderment of the Russian people's. It sure seems somewhere along the way that SOME true facts would have reached either or both sides. This is a fascinating story that I did not truly digest over the years like I am now. It's interesting how a small group of rulers (Tsar's) could have THAT much control over an entire society without an accurate exchange of information. I don't know much about him, but I am a little surprised Rasputin didn't go public with what he knew. But I guess why would he? He had it made the way things were working out for him - until the end.
Project 1917 is a series of events that took place a hundred years ago as described by those involved. It is composed only of diaries, letters, memoirs, newspapers and other documents
IIRC what happened was Nicky went to the front when he took over as commander from his uncle (cousin?). When he did that he was basically cut off from happenings in St. Petersburg.The bolded is an absolutely fascinating question: how much did the Tsar know, how much should he have known?
It wasn't absolutely, entirely ridiculous. A part of being an emperor is being the embodiment of the people. Nicky was discouraged from marrying Alex but Nick was interested in her as (gasp) a person. However an emperor has to sacrifice himself for his people. Alex was never suited to be the Empress of Russia, a severely nationalistic country.The German background of the Empress, her close relationship with Rasputin which was not explained, and the large number of German names at the court added credence to the conspiracy theories of treason. So did the execution in March 1915 of Colonel Miasoyedov, one of Sukhomlinov's proteges, for spying for Germany.
This is true, but dislike and distrust of Rasputin among the populace was well known long before Nicholas went to Stavka.IIRC what happened was Nicky went to the front when he took over as commander from his uncle (cousin?). When he did that he was basically cut off from happenings in St. Petersburg.
This is an important point and I'm glad you brought it up. Unfortunately there's just too much history here and I'm trying to encapsulate it all in a few posts, so I'm going to be missing a lot of stuff.It wasn't absolutely, entirely ridiculous. A part of being an emperor is being the embodiment of the people. Nicky was discouraged from marrying Alex but Nick was interested in her as (gasp) a person. However an emperor has to sacrifice himself for his people. Alex was never suited to be the Empress of Russia, a severely nationalistic country.
I haven't seen it in your timelines, but I think a key development in what happened in WW1 was the breaching of the League of Three Emperors aka Dual Alliance, in which Russia had actually been aligned with Germany and AHE. Not surprisingly the breaking point was the interest in the Balkans which Germany did not feel to be in their sphere of interest or influence. It finally ceased to be in 1887, the year before Wilhelm came to power, and Wilhelm did not renew it. Nick and Alex married in 1894, but it wasn't far from the time when Germany/Russia/AHE has more or less been aligned.
Tim seriously this is great reading, thanks.timschochet said:This is an important point and I'm glad you brought it up. Unfortunately there's just too much history here and I'm trying to encapsulate it all in a few posts, so I'm going to be missing a lot of stuff.
Was there any justice served regarding Rasputin's murder OR did all of that get washed away along with the Revolution? (or am I jumping the narrative gun?)timschochet said:Rasputin's daughter also sued Felix Yusopov for murdering her father, but lost...The death of Rasputin did nothing to solve the problems that beset the last days of autocratic Russia.
Don't ever worry about jumping the gun.Was there any justice served regarding Rasputin's murder OR did all of that get washed away along with the Revolution? (or am I jumping the narrative gun?)
I am amazed that a high-profiled murder, such as this, basically went either unsolved/untried. Especially with a government vying for legitimacy. Given the political turmoil at the time I can see how investigations got interrupted or trashed. But I wonder IF it was an "on purpose" ignorance due to the growing disdain for the upper class (Tsar) ruling the country. Wasn't Rasputin a member of the peasant society though? I'd think that the lower class of the day would demand justice. But therein lies the problem with the political arena of the day. The less-than-wealthy had zero say in protocol or justice even. (I'm sure I have missed many detailed facts along the way but this is how it reads to me.)...there were some legal inquiries regarding Rasputin, but not about his murder. The Kerensky government, seeking international legitimacy, were trying to prove connections between the Tsarina and the Germans. They even went to the point of having Anna Vruyoba, the Tsarina's maid and closest friend, physically examined to see if she had sex with Rasputin (she turned out to be a virgin.)
No, THE problem was not line of supply or that the country is so big. THE problem was the winter. For both Napoleon and Germans. If everything else was the same but the winters were mild the chances of success for both Napoleon and the Nazi's would have been high. The French and German armies were built around Western European Summer fighting. From weapons, to uniforms, to tactics- the French were about concentrated cannon fire, disciplined infantry to smash the other lines and the the cavalry to finish the job. The Germans were about the Blitzkrieg tanks smashing, with CAS and troops to finish the job. The ability to do either was made impossible in snow and/or mud. Foraging is much easier without heavy snow as is actually the line of supply. But simple things like your equipment that has helped you trounce previous nations simply does not work anymore. I have been in Moscow in the winter walking through a foot of snow in -20 temp.... The winter is the major factor. Everything else took the winter advantage and increased the effect. That is why the scorched earth defense was so effective.In retrospect, Napoleon's essential problem in Moscow was the same problem Hitler faced at Stalingrad: line of supply. Russia is just one frigging large country with a whole lot of people. All of Russia's military tactics, in terms of defense, come down to one simple principle: retreat, retreat, retreat, let your enemy get in too deep, and then surround them and cut them off. This strategy might not work in smaller countries, but for Russia it's perfect. It's as if you were playing chess but you had endless squares in the back of your side of the board. The drawback is that all of those retreats are going to create a LOT of human misery. In both 1812 and 1941-42, western Russia was completely savaged and torn apart. (And I have to add that if I were either Ukrainian or Polish, I would not be very fond of this strategy!)
Two points: first, although Rasputin was from the peasantry, he was not a popular figure. His hold on the Tsarina was thought to be deeply sinister.I am amazed that a high-profiled murder, such as this, basically went either unsolved/untried. Especially with a government vying for legitimacy. Given the political turmoil at the time I can see how investigations got interrupted or trashed. But I wonder IF it was an "on purpose" ignorance due to the growing disdain for the upper class (Tsar) ruling the country. Wasn't Rasputin a member of the peasant society though? I'd think that the lower class of the day would demand justice. But therein lies the problem with the political arena of the day. The less-than-wealthy had zero say in protocol or justice even. (I'm sure I have missed many detailed facts along the way but this is how it reads to me.)
This is an excellent analysis and I should have mentioned winter more in my introduction. But I still think the points I raised were vital as well.No, THE problem was not line of supply or that the country is so big. THE problem was the winter. For both Napoleon and Germans. If everything else was the same but the winters were mild the chances of success for both Napoleon and the Nazi's would have been high. The French and German armies were built around Western European Summer fighting. From weapons, to uniforms, to tactics- the French were about concentrated cannon fire, disciplined infantry to smash the other lines and the the cavalry to finish the job. The Germans were about the Blitzkrieg tanks smashing, with CAS and troops to finish the job. The ability to do either was made impossible in snow and/or mud. Foraging is much easier without heavy snow as is actually the line of supply. But simple things like your equipment that has helped you trounce previous nations simply does not work anymore. I have been in Moscow in the winter walking through a foot of snow in -20 temp.... The winter is the major factor. Everything else took the winter advantage and increased the effect. That is why the scorched earth defense was so effective.
Sure, if they invaded Liechtenstein it could have been -50 weather and it wouldn't have matter much. But if you are going to talk about THE reason, then it is the weather. If all else was the same but it was 70 degree fine weather both the French and Germans would have still succeeded even with all the other challenges.This is an excellent analysis and I should have mentioned winter more in my introduction. But I still think the points I raised were vital as well.
We're about 15 years away from that event.Did Snowball blow up the windmill yet?
Fascinating. I had never invested this much introspect into Soviet/Russian history before. Besides Lenin, Stalin, and today's newsworthy names, Rasputin is about all the politically charged names I could have mustered up (prior to this narrative). I have many questions about how Soviet governing life has changed the classifications of people into today's Russia. Such as...is there still an upper middle and lower middle class society? But I will hang up those inquisitive discussions until the narrative reaches that timeline.timschochet said:Two points: first, although Rasputin was from the peasantry, he was not a popular figure. His hold on the Tsarina was thought to be deeply sinister.
Second- and this is crucial to understand for this entire narrative: the revolutionaries were NEVER peasants, with very few exceptions. The February Revolution, as we shall see, was headed by members of the upper middle class, like Kerensky. The October Bolshevik Revolution was led by the intelligentsia, like Lenin, Trotsky, Zinoviev, and Kamenev, and the lower middle class like Stalin. The peasants and actual proletariats who were supposedly idealized by the Bolsheviks had almost no role in decision making, and were treated with contempt by the rulers, and this fact is true throughout the entire history of the USSR.
Well, I wouldn't want to ever live in the middle of a revolution. If you're caught in one, probably the best advice is to keep your head down and stay out of the way, (and try to avoid declaring your loyalty to either side at all costs until it's over with.)Man, that had to be a crazy time and place to be alive.
The Russian Revolution Recast as an Epic Family Tragedy
It was winter in Petrograd, exactly 100 years ago. The imperial Russian Army was exhausted from fighting the Germans in World War I. There were bread shortages, strikes, mutinies. In March 1917 Czar Nicholas II abdicated the throne. The Germans smuggled Lenin back to Petrograd from Swiss exile in a sealed train car. It is worth dwelling on that sealed train car: Had Lenin not arrived in Petrograd in April 1917, the 20th century as we know it would not have happened.
The world war bled into the Russian civil war. The Bolsheviks won. In 1922 Lenin proclaimed the creation of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics. Five years later the decision was made to build a House of Government on a muddy island in the Moscow River. Laborers brought sand in horse-drawn carts to fill the swamp. They lived in dank barracks where they were given food infested with maggots.
Constructivist and neo-Classical, the House of Government was designed on a scale larger than life. The costs were exorbitant. The complex contained not only apartments and courtyards, but also a theater, library, gym, hair salon, post office, cinema, laundry, grocery store, day care center, medical clinic and social club offering classes in boxing, singing, painting, fencing, target shooting and radio building. The first residential sections were completed in 1931; in 1935 there were 2,655 registered tenants in 505 apartments.
Yuri Slezkine’s “The House of Government” is a history of the Soviet project as experienced by those who carried it out. The house itself was built for Bolshevik elites. They were fanatically dedicated, self-sacrificing, unbreakable. One of them was Yakov Sverdlov, who ordered the executions of Czar Nicholas II and his family. Even the family’s dogs were hanged. Sverdlov remained preternaturally calm. His favorite stanza by his favorite poet, Heinrich Heine, ended with the lines, “let’s make heaven on earth, my friends / instead of waiting till later.” The problem was that heaven had to be made by earthlings. “People even the best of them, the Bolsheviks,” Sverdlov lamented, “are made up of the old material, having grown up under the conditions of the old filth.” The task of the Old Bolsheviks was to “build the eternal house and leave it for ‘proletarian infancy and pure orphanhood.’”
This demanded the forging of a new consciousness, one that would overcome the antinomies of subjective and objective, body and spirit, family and party. The Bolsheviks longed for seamlessness. The house was designed to facilitate transparency between the individual and the collective. Yet in fact — Slezkine argues — by building apartments, the Bolsheviks perpetuated the family unit they aspired to overcome. “Revolution was inseparable from love,” writes Slezkine, a professor of history at the University of California, Berkeley. Yet love between individual persons obstructed seamlessness. The Bolsheviks fantasized about dialectically superseding the bourgeois family, but were unsure what would come afterward. In the meantime, they behaved like an endogamous sect, finding husbands, wives and lovers within their own incestuous milieu. Not only family attachments, but also domesticity, with all its “philistine vulgarity,” proved resilient. Old Bolsheviks filled their apartments with pianos, samovars, embroidered towels. “The revolution’s last and decisive battle,” Slezkine writes, “was to be against ‘velvet-covered albums resting on small tables covered with lace doilies.’”
As these families decorated their apartments, the party declared war against middle-class peasants. Famines brought on by collectivization spread through Soviet Ukraine, Kazakhstan and Russia. Slezkine describes a peasant and his family thrown out of their home in the middle of a winter night, leaving his daughter-in-law frostbitten and her 2-day-old baby dead from the cold. While the peasants ate grass, Stalin requisitioned their grain to fund industrialization in the cities. “Please congratulate me on my new party card,” a requisitioner wrote to a friend. “My heart was overcome with incredible joy, like I’d never felt before.” In the countryside there was cannibalism. Party officials stumbled over corpses. Peasant women who fled the famine became nannies for House of Government residents. The families who remained behind starved.
The turning point in Slezkine’s story is the 1934 murder of the Leningrad party head Sergei Kirov. “Human emotions had always been at the heart of Bolshevism,” Slezkine says. “The telephone call on Dec. 1, 1934, changed everything. No one believed human emotions anymore.” Now Old Bolsheviks became the targets of their own terror. “Nights with fewer than 100 executions were rare,” Slezkine writes. At the House of Government there was silence. “Everyone talks as if nothing has happened,” Aleksandr Arosev wrote in his diary.
Tania Miagkova’s daughter, Rada, was 8 when her mother was sent to prison. Tania used her time there to read “Das Kapital.” When her husband was arrested, Tania switched from “Das Kapital” to “Anna Karenina.” When her request for transfer to the gulag to be with her husband was denied, she began to read poetry: Mayakovsky, Blok, Pushkin. To her mother she wrote, “A concentration camp? So be it! Over a period of several years? So be it! Long, difficult years? So be it! Mikhas must be accepted back into the party.”
These chapters on the Stalinist Terror are the most vivid. Over all, Slezkine’s writing is sharp, fresh, sometimes playful, often undisciplined. The momentum suffers from the narrative’s overpopulation; and Slezkine falls into digressions about the Exodus, Armageddon and repressed memory theory. Despite meandering, he makes certain arguments clearly: Bolshevism was a millenarian sect with an insatiable desire for utopia struggling to reconcile predestination with free will — that is, working ceaselessly to bring about what was supposedly inevitable. Utopia’s failure to arrive after the Civil War led to The Great Disappointment. In the second half of the 1920s, Soviet sanitariums were filled with Bolsheviks eating caviar, playing chess and suffering from depression.
For Slezkine, two qualities made the Bolsheviks special. The first was “wrapping faith in logic”: Marxism fused mysticism with scientific rationalism. The second was sheer magnitude: history had known many other millenarian sects, but not on this scale. This book is about the possibilities and limits of social engineering. When in 1934 Evgeny Preobrazhensky said, “It has been the greatest transformation in the history of the world,” he spoke the truth. The Soviet project was the most far-reaching experiment ever conducted on human beings.
Yet, as Slezkine writes, “the Soviet age did not last beyond one human lifetime.” Why? He answers: Among the generation enjoying the proverbial happy Soviet childhood, no one read “Das Kapital.” What they did read was Tolstoy and Pushkin, Heine and Goethe. The Bolsheviks, Slezkine claims, dug their own graves when they gave Tolstoy to their children. The historical novel made it impossible for them to gaze solely into the coming utopia: “the parents lived for the future; their children lived in the past. … The parents had comrades; … the children had friends.”
Slezkine plots “The House of Government” as an epic family tragedy. “Last night NKVD agents came and took Mommy away,” wrote an 11-year-old boy in 1938. “Mommy was very brave.” A few days later: “I’m reading Tolstoy’s ‘War and Peace.’” Then, “Mommy-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y!!!”
Neither Tania Miagkova nor her husband ever saw their daughter again. Like many children of Bolsheviks, Rada was raised by her grandmother. That many of these grandmothers “were orthodox Bolshevik sectarians” — Slezkine observes — “does not seem to have diminished their family loyalty. The fact that their families were punished for unexplained reasons does not seem to have diminished their Bolshevik orthodoxy. “The two sets of loyalties … were connected to each other by silence.”
Children from the House of Government without grandmothers completed their school days in orphanages. Many went on to be killed fighting the Germans in World War II. Those mothers who did survive the gulag returned years later, aged. They were no longer needed by their children, who had grown up without them. As one woman whose mother returned said, “We never really managed to get used to each other again.”