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The Rise and Fall of the Soviet Union- historical narrative discussion thread (1 Viewer)

We've had this discussion before. I still say barnacles were a major contributing factor to the Russian naval defeat. If your top speed is half your opponent's it opens up a lot of possibilities...

 
The Road to World War I

Although the assassination of Stolypin only added to the chaos within Russia, to outsiders it seemed like the monolith it always had. That was true despite the fact that Russia had performed so miserably against Japan, and then suffered another embarrassment in 1908, during the First Balkan War. This was a struggle between the Balkan States (Serbia, Greece, Montenegro, Bulgaria) vs. the Ottoman Empire (Turkey). The Balkans won and established their independence. However, when war broke out Russia was committed to Serbia's defense, as she had been for hundreds of years. But because the Russian military was so weak at the time, the Tsar was unable to send any troops before the conflict was over. As a result, the Russian government planned for a complete reorganization of the military, but this was not publicly announced until 1912.

But despite all of these embarrassments, Russia was still considered a Great Power and a major factor in any European land war, due to her impossibly large numbers of troops. France, although nominally a Great Power, and still with a wealthy colonial empire overseas, had lost most of it's prestige due to it's defeat to Prussia in 1871. This left, at the start of the 20th century, two rivals in Europe, and in the world: England and Germany.

England was the world's great and only superpower, where the sun never set on it's Empire, which then included all of India, Pakistan, parts of Afghanistan, Hong Kong, Shanghai, Singapore, Canton, Yokohama in Japan, Egypt, large parts of the Middle East, South Africa, Rhodesia, Kenya, large parts of the rest of Africa, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, and various territories in Latin America, Antarctica, and the South Pacific. The capital of world commerce and industry was London. But Germany had been the rising star in Europe for a century or so, and since Bismarck consolidated the German states under a single Kaiser, the Germans had dominated the center of Europe. It's population already exceeded England's and soon it's economy would as well. Most onlookers could see that the two rivals would eventually struggle against each other; the question was when. But both sides very clearly recognized one factor: whichever side had Russia as an ally had a decisive advantage.

Thus began a competition in which both England and Germany ignored Russia's flaws and sought the Tsar's friendship. (In a very real sense, this competition would not end until June of 1941, and perhaps not even then.) Despite the fact that Germany represented a geopolitical threat to Russia, it was thought that, at least during the first several years of Nicholas' reign, that the Kaiser would have the advantage. They were cousins, after all. The Kaiser, like Alexandra, called the Tsar "Nicky." (The Tsar called him "Willy" or "Uncle Willy".) Alexandra was German and close to the Kaiser (though not as close as her enemies portrayed her; she was even fonder of her grandmother Victoria and the British royal house, which was conveniently ignored.) The Tsar was obsessed with protecting Christianity in southern Europe against Islamic barbarism from Turkey, and the Kaiser promised to help protect that region. In the meantime, the Tsar did not like England. The British were always meddling in Afghanistan and trying to stop Russian expansion ("The Great Game"), plus they had armed Japan. Moreover, the Crimean War was still, for Russians, a recent memory.

It's interesting to speculate what would have happened if Russia had actually allied herself with Germany. Perhaps there never would have been a World War, because Britain and France would not have committed themselves to a struggle they were sure to lose. Perhaps there would have been no revolution, despite Russia's ongoing problems. But none of this was to be, because right around the time of the First Balkan War, the Tsar abruptly changed his mind. What happened was this: he began to view the Ottoman Empire as crumbling (in this he was correct) and that Austria-Hungary was the real threat to the independent Balkan states. What's more, his advisors warned him, (again correctly) that an expansionist Germany would seek land (lebensraum) at Russia's expense. If he allied with Germany against England and France, he was cutting off his only chance of containing the Prussian onslaught which eventually would come his way.

A wise man, facing these facts, might have held off agreeing to any alliances, playing one power against another, while all the time attempting to re[arm. But Nicholas II, as described in this narrative, was anything but wise. Impetuously, without waiting to re-arm, he plunged ahead, signing alliances with Serbia, France, and England, allowing other nations to decide whether or not Russia was to go to war. On top of everything else, this sealed his fate.

 
The July Crisis

On June 28, 1914, Archduke Franz Ferdinand, the heir to the Austrian-Hungarian monarchy was assassinated in Serbia by a group known as the "Black Hand". They had no connection with the Serbian government, but the Austrians responded by demanding that Serbia allow Austrian troops into Serbia to basically take over and do their own investigation. Naturally a sovereign Serbia, with a treaty with Russia, could not accept this, so they refused. Austria-Hungary then threatened to declare war.

Tsar Nicholas II summoned his advisors to his palace at Tsarkeyo Selo. He asked if Russia was ready for war. After consulting with his generals, he was told that Russia could defend Serbia against Austria-Hungary, but if Germany chose to enter the struggle, nothing was guaranteed. His advisors then split nearly down the middle, with the military and hard liners, led by the foreign minister, Sazonov, believing that an early mobilization and threat of war would cause the Kaiser to back off and thus prevent war. The other side, led by old Sergius Witte who had been brought back into the government following Stolypin's assassination, thought this was madness. Witte told the Tsar straight out that not only would Russia lose this war, this time it would lead to the end of the Romanov dynasty. Meanwhile Alexandra was convinced that the war must be fought, though her hero Rasputin actually also advised against it.

In desperation, not knowing what to do, Nicholas wrote a letter to the Kaiser:

I foresee that very soon I shall be overwhelmed by the pressure forced upon me and be forced to take extreme measures which will lead to war. To try and avoid such a calamity as a European war I beg you in the name of our old friendship to do what you can to stop your allies from going too far. Nicky.

A correspondence now began, but it was useless. Once Austria-Hungary declared war on Serbia, Russia by treaty had no choice but to mobilize her troops. This in turn led the Kaiser's ministers to tell him he had no choice but to declare war on Russia. And so World War I began.

On the outset, despite Witte's dire warnings, on paper things didn't look so bad for the Tsar. A full mobilization gave the Russians 4 million troops, much more than any other Great Power. The Russians had England and France as two powerful allies, which forced the Germans and Austrians to fight a two front war. Finally, despite all of the crisis that had existed for the last 10 years, a war against Germany was sure to bring out a patriotism among the Russian people and unify them behind the Tsar as nothing else could.

Those were the positives. The negatives were that Russia was still an incredibly backwards nation with few railroads compared to Germany and Austria-Hungary- the latter nations could thus move troops around ten times as fast to the various fronts. Russia's attempts to modernize her Armies were much too late- the army was lacking in everything- guns, artillery pieces, food, etc. Discipline was poor to say the least. Many of the men Russia depended on as soldiers came from the factories and were either members of Soviets or sympathetic to them, and thus not especially loyal to their officers or to the Tsarist regime in general. The entrance of Turkey into the war meant that Russia could only receive supplies from Archangel, which were hit and miss based on the weather. Finally, the minister of war, Vladimir Sukhomlinov, and the general in charge of all troops in the field, Grand Duke Nicholas (the Tsar's cousin) hated each other.

With these strengths and weaknesses the Russians entered the war. They fully expected to triumph.

 
Black Hand were all current or former Serbian military officers, yes?  "No connection" with the government seems a little overzealous.

 
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.

 
MarvinTScamper said:
Black Hand were all current or former Serbian military officers, yes?  "No connection" with the government seems a little overzealous.
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.

 
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.
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.

Oh, and edit to add: what you wrote here is how I read it too

 
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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.
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.  

 
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.  
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! 

Perhaps one day we'll have a thread about 20th century Germany...

 
World War I, Continued

As the war dragged on through the winter, the army began to experience terrible problems of materiel. Russia's transport network was too weak to cope with the massive deliveries of munitions, food, clothing, and medical care to the front. Munitions shortages were the most acute. Russia was cut off from it's allies, France and Britain, who because of Turkey's entrance into the war could not supply them with armaments. By the spring of 1915, whole battalions were being trained without rifles, while many second line troops were relying on rifles picked up from the men who had been shot in front of them.

The army's morale and discipline began to fall apart. Unable to control their rebellious troops, some officers resorted to flogging them- a terrible reminder of the serf culture that still existed in the ranks (e.g. the obligation of the soldiers to address their officers by their honorific titles, to clean their boots, run private errands for them, and so on), which gave rise to an internal war between the peasant soldiers and their noble officers.

In May 1915, the Germans and the Austrians launched a massive offensive, breaking through the Russian lines right across the Eastern Front and forcing the Tsar's armies into headlong retreat. There was confusion and panic. As they fell back, the Russian troops destroyed buildings, bridges, military stores and crops to prevent them falling to the enemy. The destruction often broke down into pillaging, especially of Jewish property, as the troops moved through the Pale of Settlement where the Tsar's Jews were obligated to live. The summer months of unending retreat dealt a crippling blow to the troops' morale. A million men surrendered to the enemy. Huge numbers deserted to the rear, where many of them became bandits.

And this was when rumors spread about treason back home, treason by the German Tsarina, and her consort, the mysterious Rasputin...

 
World War I, Continued

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. As an NCO put it at the time:

There are many traitors and spies in the high command of our army, like the War Minister Sukhomlinov, whose fault it is that we don't have any shells, and Miasoyedov, who betrayed the fortresses to the enemy. A fish begins to stink from the head. What kind of Tsar would surround himself with thieves and cheats? It's as clear as day that we're going to lose this war.

For many soldiers this sort of discussion was the vital psychological moment of the revolution- the moment when their loyalty to the monarchy was finally broken. A government which made them fight a war they could not hope to win, which had failed to provide them with adequate weapons and supplies, and which was now in league with the enemy was certainly not worthy of further sacrifices.

In a desperate attempt to restore morale and discipline, Tsar Nicholas took over the Supreme Command. If the soldiers would not fight for "Russia", then perhaps they would fight for the Tsar. It was the worst decision of his reign. It meant that he would take the blame of every defeat. His presence at the Front had a bad effect on the troops' morale. As General Brusilov put afterwards: 

Everybody knew that Tsar Nicholas understood next to nothing about military matters. And although the word 'Tsar' still had a magical power over the troops, he utterly lacked the personal charisma to bring that magic to life. Faced with a group of soldiers, he was nervous and did not know what to say. 

Upon leaving St. Petersburg for the Front, Nicholas also decided to reconvene the Duma in July of 1915, hoping to quell the voices of reform that had been pressuring him since the war started (and before.) But this move only made them louder. The liberal opposition now had a platform on which to demand a new government, appointed by the Tsar but responsible to the Duma. It was at this time that Alexander Kerensky became the nominal leader of the Duma and the liberal opposition to the Tsar.

Kerensky was  from the same village as Lenin; the families were friends and Kerensky's father, a school teacher, actually had Lenin in his class. But unlike the radical Bolshevik Kerensky was a moderate who wanted to model a new Russia after the western democracies. Though he desired an end to the Tsar's monarchy, he thought it could be achieved through peaceful means. Like so many revolutionaries throughout history, Kerensky was preoccupied with the tyranny of the regime he was idealistically attempting to overthrow, without paying attention to the threat of the extremists that fought alongside him. 

 
The Empress and Rasputin

With the Tsar's departure to the Front, the rulership of Russia now fell to the Tsarina, Empress Alexandra. She distrusted all of her ministers and placed her trust only in the man whom she considered to have been sent to her from Heaven, Grigory Rasputin. The ministers, in turn, could not understand why Alexandra was so devoted to Rasputin; they were not privy to the secret of Alexie. Alexie had again fallen ill with hemophilia, and again the doctors believed he would die. And again Rasputin seemed to make him better. This made the Tsarina's devotion stronger than ever. But neither the majority of minister, nor the Duma, nor the Russian people knew any of this: what they knew instead was that the Tsarina was German, the Russians were losing the war to the Germans, and Rasputin was having a good old time partying and taking part in orgies. 

Meanwhile, the city of St. Petersburg, like much of the country, was starving. The war had cut supply lines and even though 1916 had actually been a reasonably good year for wheat, it wasn't reaching the Russian people. In desperation the Duma attempted to propose new regulations that would keep the remaining food supplies out of the hands of speculators. The nobility, terrified of land reform, urged the Tsar to veto all such measures, which he did. The ministers complained to the Tsarina, and she, following the advice of Rasputin, had them relieved of their duties or jailed. "The autocracy needs to show its fist", she wrote in a letter to her husband at the front.

For the Tsar at Stavka (headquarters), things started out well. He had a fine commander in General Brusilov, who went on the offensive for the first time since the start of the war, and won several battles against Austro-Hungarian troops. It now looked like the Russians would recapture Poland. But the successes were short-lived; Romania entered the war on the Allied side, and this actually worked against Russia by forcing Brusilov to widen his area of defense- the marginal addition of Romanian troops did not help the overall situation, and it would have been better for that country to stay neutral. At the same time the Germans under General Ludendorff transferred thousands of troops from France to the eastern front to help Austria-Hungary. The Germans pushed the Russians out of Poland again, eliminating all of their gains. And once more all of this was the fault of the Empress and Rasputin, or so believed the common soldiers. In the fall of 1916, there was now open talk of revolution as the only way to save Russia.

Back in St. Petersburg, the nobility recognized at least some of this. They knew that if something wasn't done, their whole way of life was in jeopardy. Prince Felix Yusopov, a cousin of the Tsar, decided to take matters into his own hands: he would save imperial Russia by killing Grigory Rasputin. 

 
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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.

 
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.
The bolded is an absolutely fascinating question: how much did the Tsar know, how much should he have known? 

Nicholas had been told his entire life that his whims were not subject to public opinion; the Romanovs were perhaps the last believers in the divine right of kings. (The difference between this idea, and 20th century dictators, had to do with blood royalty. Neither Stalin nor Hitler, for example, had in mind that their children would rule after they did. The dictators of North Korea are a throwback to the old Romanov idea.) Nicholas would typically respond to just complaints by becoming obstinate and refusing to give in, not because he was a spoiled child (like Donald Trump) but because he believed that the principle of the divine right should not be messed with, and that any weakness on his part would result in his assassination, like his grandfather, before his son was ready to rule. (In Nicholas' wildest dreams, he never thought that the Romanov dynasty would be overthrown; his greatest fear was his own assassination.)

With regard to Rasputin, however, there is some indication based on Massie's book that the Tsar was not nearly as enamored as his wife was, and that he thought the man was somewhat of a charlatan. But of course, Nicky by all accounts wasn't the man of the family; he did what his wife wanted, and she would hear no criticism of her holy man. As for Rasputin himself, who knows? Maybe he believed in his own weird powers, maybe not. But I don't know how it would have served him in any way to reveal Alexie's secret to the world. 

 
The bolded is an absolutely fascinating question: how much did the Tsar know, how much should he have known? 
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 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.
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.

 
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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 true, but dislike and distrust of Rasputin among the populace was well known long before Nicholas went to Stavka. 

 
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.
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. 

 
The Murder of Rasputin Part 1

Prince Felix Yusupov, who plotted Rasputin's assassination, was quite a character in his own right. Probably the richest man in Russia ( all inherited, wealthier even than his cousin by marriage, the Tsar), he was a notorious cross dresser who spent most of his time smoking opium and throwing away his limitless wealth on prostitutes, horses, and dice. Prior to World War I he spent several years at Oxford University, though whether or not he studied is open to question; his roommate (lover?) was the famous ballerina Anna Pavlova (though there were also lots of handsome male roommates as well- Felix took his pleasures wherever he could get them.) 

Back in St. Petersburg in February of 1914, Felix married Princess Irina, the daughter of the Tsar's brother (Grand Duke Nicholas, commander of the Tsar's armies, already mentioned in this narrative.) Irina was considered to be one of the great beauties of the age. The couple honeymooned in Germany, and were briefly held hostage by the Kaiser (another cousin of Irina's.) They escaped and returned to St. Petersburg where Felix became richer than ever due to the death of his last surviving grandparent. Felix then spent most of the remainder of the war years idly hanging around his various palaces, throwing grand feasts and orgies while the peasants began to starve. He ignored his wife, who had her own friends. 

At some point during this time, young Felix (he was only 29 in 1916) awoke from his drug-induced stupor and seemed to realize that Russia was falling apart, and that the culprit was Grigory Rasputin, who was the only man in St. Petersburg that could be said to be partying more wildly than Yusopov was. It was December, 1916, the Russian troops were deserting, there was starvation everywhere, and in public there was open condemnation of the autocracy and the Romanovs. Felix truly believed he could eliminate all of these problems by murdering Rasputin. Getting together with some grand duke friends of his, he concocted a simple plan. He would tell Rasputin that Irina was 'Fearful of Satan" and invite him to meet her. 

Rasputin was an old pro of the "fearful of Satan" ploy with the rich aristocracy of St. Petersburg. So long as they were young, female, and beautiful, Rasputin would agree to "cure" them- this involved days or weeks of orgy- drinking, drugs, and endless sex, until the "patient" was judged to be "purged clean". So there was every reason to believe that Rasputin would eagerly agree to meet the beautiful Irina, which he did. 

Once Rasputin was at the palace, Yusupov's plan was to offer Rasputin food and drink, all of it poisoned, until he was dead. Then he and his friends would bury Rasputin and nobody would ever know what happened to him; problem solved. Of course, it didn't quite work out that way...

 
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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. 
Tim seriously this is great reading, thanks.

 
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The Murder of Rasputin, Part 2

(Note- main source used for this was "The Death of Rasputin", an article by Josh Harding)

December 17, 1916

Rasputin arrived at the Yusupov palace, ready to meet Irina, and begin his "treatment". Instead, he was greeted by Prince Felix, and two of his friends: Vladimir Purishkevich (a member of the Duma), and a Dr. Lazaret (a mysterious and disreputable character who apparently was Felix's opium supplier.) Rasputin was taken to a dining room in the basement. He was told that Irina was busy with some guests but would be down shortly. In the meantime, rest and have some tea!

Rasputin was offered pastries and wine which he initially refused. This somewhat threw the Prince into a panic. He told the other conspirators (who were now waiting in another room off the stairs, "...that animal is not eating or drinking!" When Felix returned, however, Rasputin had opened the wine and began to drink. After downing a couple of glasses, he showed ill effects from the deadly poison lacing the wine. After a while, he may have started feeling something, because he asked for tea. He then stood, walked around the room, then asked Felix to play the guitar and sing. For two hours this "nightmare" continued.

When Felix checked in with his co-conspirators next, he was pale, He said that Rasputin had drank the poisoned wine and snacked on the poisoned pastries, with no obvious ill-effects. When Felix again returned to his "guest," he complained of burping and had some excess salivation, but nothing more. Nerves of the co-conspirators were beginning to fray. Felix decided to take a more direct approach. He took a revolver, and while Rasputin was distracted by a fancy cross, Felix shot him in the back. Rasputin gave a bestial cry and fell to the floor.

Purishkevich and the doctor went to the car to destroy Rasputin's coat and boots- though they never completed their task for reasons unknown. In the meantime, Felix wanted to make sure Rasputin was dead, so he went to take a closer look. The body was still warm with small drops of blood coming from the wound. Felix lifted the body by the shirt, shook it, and dropped it again to the floor. He then noticed that the left eye started to open, then the right eye. Suddenly Rasputin leapt from the floor with a "devil's look" in his eyes and a wild cry and attacked Felix. Felix struggled for a moment and broke free. Wounded, Rasputin fell again to the floor.

The prince ran, calling for the revolver again. When the co-conspirators returned, Rasputin was crawling up the stairs. He made it outside and began to run through the snow, crying "I shall tell the tsarina everything!" In a panic, Purishkevich shot twice with the revolver, missing both times. Then he bit himself on the wrist to make him concentrate. He fired again and this time struck Rasputin in the back. Then again in the head. Rasputin fell, holding his head.

Felix then began to beat Rasputin with a rubber truncheon. Finally Purishkevich had him pulled off the body. They took the body back inside, and discovered that Rasputin was still alive. He wheezed with each breath and was able to look at them through one eye. Finally the doctor returned, and pronounced Rasputin dead. Exhausted, the murderers gave up their original plan of burying Rasputin in a secret place. Instead they simply wrapped the body in a cloth, took him by car to the Niva river, and dumped him in the freezing water.

When the body was retrieved 2 days later from the river, it appeared as if Rasputin had tried to claw his way out of the ice. After being poisoned, shot 3 times, and beaten, it turned out that Grigory Rasputin died of drowning.

Two weeks before this event, Rasputin wrote the following letter to the Tsar:

I feel that I shall leave life before January 1st. I wish to make known to the Russian people, to Papa (the Tsar), to the Russian Mother (the Tsarina) and to the Children what they must understand. If I am killed by common assassins, and especially by my brothers the Russian peasants, you, the Tsar of Russia, will have nothing to fear for your children, they will reign for hundreds of years. But if I am murdered by boyars, nobles, and if they shed my blood, their hands will remain soiled with my blood for twenty-five years and they will leave Russia. Brothers will kill brothers, and they will kill each other and hate each other, and for twenty-five years there will be no peace in the country. The Tsar of the land of Russia, if you hear the sound of the bell which will tell you that Grigory has been killed, you must know this: if it was your relations who have wrought my death, then none of your children will remain alive for more than two years. And if they do, they will beg for death as they will see the defeat of Russia, see the Antichrist coming, plague, poverty, destroyed churches, and desecrated sanctuaries where everyone is dead. The Russian Tsar, you will be killed by the Russian people and the people will be cursed and will serve as the devil’s weapon killing each other everywhere. Three times for 25 years they will destroy the Russian people and the orthodox faith and the Russian land will die. I shall be killed. I am no longer among the living. Pray, pray, be strong, and think of your blessed family.

 
Aftermath

Felix and Irina fled the future Soviet Union shortly after the February Revolution. They left behind most of their fantastic wealth (it was largely in land) but did manage to take with them four of the largest diamonds ever to exist: the Polar Star diamond, the blue Sultan of Morocco diamond, and ironically enough two  diamonds that had belonged to Marie Antoinette. They also took two priceless Rembrandts. The sale of these items managed to keep the couple in luxury during years of exile in France, up until the stock market crash of 1929. After that they lived by suing MGM studios for taking liberties with a film, Rasputin. (Rasputin's daughter also sued Felix Yusopov for murdering her father, but lost.) Felix died in 1967, his wife a few years later.

Tsarina Alexandra was stunned and grief stricken over the death of her holy man. For weeks she wandered around the palace at Tsarskoye Selo, refusing to see the Tsar's ministers or do anything about the growing food crisis. She finally snapped out of it when 3 of her children developed measles. Alexandra then worked as a nurse to take care of them, still ignoring the outside world until in February it crashed all around her. 

The death of Rasputin did nothing to solve the problems that beset the last days of autocratic Russia. The main problem was that the people in the cities were starving. In addition, the desertion of soldiers had become widespread. And the cold weather wasn't helping. The Duma was helpless, the Tsar was isolated away at the front, and the Tsarina refused to make any decisions. Something had to give...

 
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.
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?)

 
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?)
Don't ever worry about jumping the gun.

To the best of my knowledge, the answer is no. I know that after the February Revolution but before the October Revolution, 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.) 

But before the Kerensky government could finish their investigations they were tossed out by the Bolsheviks, and Lenin and Co. had NO interest in publicly exploring any ties between Russia and Germany, for reasons that we'll get to shortly...

 
And just to add- Felix Yusupov did not leave the country to escape justice for the murder of Rasputin, but because he was a member of the nobility. The lucky ones got out. 

 
...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.) 
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.)

 
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!) 
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. 

 
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.)
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. 

 
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. 
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. 

 
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. 
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.

 
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. 
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.

Thanks!

 
The February Revolution Part 1

It began with bread. For weeks there had been long lines at the bakeries in Petrograd. The problem was not lack of supplies. There was enough flour in the warehouses to feed the population for at least a week when what had started as a series of bread riots turned into a revolution. The problem was the freezing temperatures- the coldest winter Russia had experienced for several years- and the breakdown of the transport system, which interrupted the deliveries of flour and fuel to the capital. Factories closed. Thousands of laid-off workers milled around the streets. Woman lined up all night for a loaf of bread, only to be told in the early hours of the morning that there would be none for sale that day.

Rumors spread. People said that "capitalists"- which in the xenophobic wartime atmosphere was understood to be synonymous with Jews- were forcing up the prices by withholding stocks. On February 19, 2017, the Petrograd authorities announced that rationing would begin on March 1. In the panic buying that followed the shelves were laid bare, fights broke out, and several bakeries had their windows smashed. 

On Thursday, February 23, the temperature in the capital rose to a spring like -5 degrees. It was International Women's Day, an important date in the socialist calendar, and towards noon a large demonstration of women, mostly shop and office workers, began to march towards the city center to protest for equal rights. The "mild" weather brought out larger crowds than usual- people emerged from their winter hibernation to enjoy the sun and join the hunt for food- and the women were in good humor. But soon the mood began to change. 

Women textile workers had come out in protest against shortages of bread. With their menfolk from the neighboring metalworks, they marched towards the city center with chants of "Bread!" and "Down with the Tsar!" By the end of the afternoon, 100,000 workers had come out on strike. There were clashes with the Cossacks and police before night descended and the crowds dispersed. The next morning 150,000 workers marched again to the center. They were armed with knives, hammers, and pieces of iron, partly to help them fight the soldiers who had been brought in overnight to bar their way, and partly to help them loot the well stocked foodshops of the Nevsky Prospect. On Znamenskaya Square they were joined by people of all classes in a huge rally, as the police watched, powerless.

In the center of the square the protestors were blocked by a squadron of mounted Cossacks. A young girl approached from the crowd and walked towards the Cossacks to present a bouquet of red roses to one of their officers , who leaned down from his horse to accept this offering of peace. It was a symbolic victory- one of those psychological moments on which revolutions turn: now the people knew they could win. 

Even at this point, however, the authorities could have contained the situation, as long as they avoided open conflict with the protestors. If bread had been delivered to the shops, the demonstrations would likely have lost momentum, as food protests had done before. Indeed, Alexander Shliapnikov, Lenin's chief lieutenant still in Petrograd (it will be recalled that the leading Bolsheviks at this time were still in exile) scoffed at the idea that this was the start of a revolution. "Giver the workers a pound of bread and the movement will peter out", he told his fellow Bolsheviks on February 25. 

Nikolai Golitsyn, who would end up being the last Prime Minister of Tsarist Russia, agreed with this analysis. In desperation he wired the Tsar at Stavka to release the stores of wheat and feed the people. Only the Tsar could order the military to do this; Golitsyn had no real power. At this moment, had Nicholas agreed, Russian and world history and the 20th century might have taken a drastically different turn. But Nicholas did NOT agree. He had been told his entire life that he was the ruler by divine right, and that the people did not have a voice in government, could not have a voice in government. The Tsar wired back with instructions to General Khabalov, Chief of the Petrograd Military District: put down the disorders tomorrow. Shoot anyone who doesn't obey. 

 
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There are some important points here that I want to add before continuing with the narrative: 

1. What happened in February 1917 in Russia was a true revolution, as will be seen. What happened in October 1917 was NOT a revolution, more like a putsch or palace coup. 

2. After October of 1917 the Soviet Union attempted to rewrite history by claiming that both of these events were largely inevitable. This inevitability argument has since been adopted by many historians, mostly leftist. In fact, neither event was inevitable, even with all of the narrative I have laid out up to this point. The Tsar could have chosen to release the wheat supplies. As we shall see, even after that he would have a few more opportunities to put down the revolution. Once the Tsar was removed, Kerensky and the Duma would have multiple opportunities to prevent the Bolsheviks from seizing power. None of what will be related here was pre-ordained. 

 
The February Revolution, Continued

By Sunday morning, February 26, the center of the city had been turned into a militarized camp. Soldiers and police were everywhere. Around midday huge crowds of workers once again assembled in the factory districts and marched to the center. As they converged on the Nevsky Prospekt, police and soldiers fired on them from several different points. The worst atrocity took place on Znamenskaya Square, where more than 50 demonstrators were shot dead by a training detachment of the Volynsky Regiment. An officer, who had been unable to get his young and obviously nervous soldiers to open fire on the crowd, grabbed a rifle from one of his men and began to shoot at the people. Among those killed were 2 soldiers from the regiment who had gone over to the people's side.

This shedding of blood- Russia's 2nd Bloody Sunday- proved a critical turning point. The demonstrators knew they were in a life or death struggle against the regime, and the killing of their comrades had emboldened them. As for the soldiers, they had to choose between their moral duty to the people and their oath of allegiance to the Tsar. If they followed the former, a full-scale revolution would occur. But if they chose the latter, then the regime might still manage to survive, as it had done in 1905.

After the shooting on the Nevsky Prospekt, a troop of the protestors broke into the barracks of the Pavlovsky Regiment, whose soldiers, shaken by the news, joined them in a mutiny. "They are shooting our mothers and our sisters!" was their rallying cry, as they broke into the arsenal of the barracks, grabbed some rifles, and began to march toward Nevsky, clashing with police along their way. Running out of ammunition, they are soon defeated by Khabalov's Cossacks and confined in their barracks, 19 ringleaders were arrested and imprisoned. But it was too late for repression by this time.

The training detachment of the Volynsky Regiment returned to their barracks with doubts and feelings of guilt after shooting at the protestors. One of the soldiers claimed to have recognized his own mother among the people they had killed. The following morning, when they were ordered to fire on the crowds again, they shot their commanding officer and came out to join the people's side in a mutiny, which was soon joined by other regiments.

The mutiny turned the demonstrations of the previous 4 days into a full scale revolution. The Tsarist authorities were virtually deprived of coercive power in the capital. They could no longer deal with the situation and were afraid to send in more troops from the Northern Front or provincial garrisons in case they also joined the mutiny; the army would be split, perhaps forcing Russia to leave the war. The rebel soldiers in the capital gave military strength and organization to the revolutionary crowds. They turned disordered protest into battles for the capture of strategic targets for the "people's side": the arsenal, the telephone exchange, railway station, the police headquarters and prisons.

There was no real leadership on the people's side. The socialist parties were all caught unawares, their main leaders in exile, in prison or abroad, and while many of their rank and file were in the crowds, they were in no position to direct them. The street generated its own leaders- students, workers, cadets, and NCOs, socialists whose names have never made it into history books. People wore red armbands or ribbons in their buttonholes to show their support for "the revolution." Residents fed "the revolutionaries" from their kitchens. Shopkeepers turned their shops into bases for the soldiers,and into shelters for the people when police were firing in the streets. Children ran about on errands for "the leaders"- and veteran soldiers obeyed their commands. It was as if the people on the streets had suddenly become united by a vast network of invisible threads. And this secured their victory. 

 
The February Revolution, Continued

By the early afternoon of the 27th a crowd of 25,000 people- many of them soldiers from the nearby barracks- had gathered in front of the Tauride Palace, seat of the Duma and citadel of Russia's new democracy. They were looking for political leaders. The first two appear were 3 Mensheviks: Khrustalev-Nosar, Chkheidze, and Skobelev, and one Social Revolutionary (SR), Alexander Kerensky. Kerensky announced that a "Provisional Executive Committee of the Soviet of Workers' Deputies" had been established. He appealed to the workers to elect and send their representatives to an assembly of the Soviet scheduled for that evening.

Despite its name, there were not many workers among the 50 delegates and 200 observers packed into a smoke-filled room in the left wing of the Tauride Palace for that first chaotic session of the Soviet. Most of the workers were still on the streets, unaware of the Soviet's existence, and their voting places were taken by intellectuals. There was not a single factory delegate on the Soviet executive, which was made up of 6 Mensheviks, 2 Bolsheviks, 2 SRs, and 5 non-Party deputies. The meeting was disorderly. Debates were frequently interrupted by "urgent announcements" and "emergency reports" from delegations of soldiers. The assembly decided to establish a Petrograd Soviet of Workers' and Soldiers' Deputies. The blue of the workers' tunics was lost in the sea of grey uniforms when the first combined session of the Petrograd Soviet assembled in the Catherine Hall of the Tauride Palace on the evening of the 28th. Of the 3,000 delegates, more than 2/3 were in army uniforms.

Meanwhile, in the right wing of the palace, the Duma leaders were meeting to decide whether they should place themselves at the head of the revolutionary crowds, whose cries from the streets were growing louder and more threatening all the time. Moderates cautioned that it would be illegal to usurp the powers of the Tsar. But such legal niceties were hardly the point now. This, after all, was a revolution; the only real power- the power of violence- now lay in the streets. As the chaos deepened and the Soviet emerged as a rival center of political authority, the Duma leaders formed themselves into a Temporary Committee for the Restoration of Order and proclaimed themselves in charge.

The aim of the leaders in both wings of the Tauride Palace was to restore order in the capital. There was a real danger of the revolution degenerating into anarchy. Thousands of drunken workers and soldiers were rampaging through the city looting stores, breaking into houses and beating up and robbing well-drussed citizens. The fighting against the police was breaking down into chaotic violence. It was essential to get the soldiers to return to their barracks, but the mutineers were frightened that they would be punished by the officers and demanded guarantees of their immunity. The result was Order No. 1, which listed the demands and conditions for their return to the garrisons: the establishment of soldiers' committees to run the units and control the weaponry; the rights of citizens for off-duty soldiers; the end of honorific titles (such as "your Excellency") for the officers; and the obligation of the soldiers to obey their commanders only if their orders did not contradict the decrees of the Soviet.

This crucial document, which did more than anything else to destroy the discipline of the army, had taken only a few minutes for the soldiers to draw up together and pass by a vote in the Soviet assembly. It also accomplished two other goals, unforeseen at the time (except, perhaps, by a few forward thinking men): first, although it would appear for months that the Duma and the Soviet were equally in control of Petrograd (and thus Russia), the Soviet really had all the power as they controlled the army. Second, it paved the way for the Bolsheviks to eventually take over. Because the Bolsheviks, ruthless as they were, alone understood that whoever controlled the Soviet controlled the army, and thus the state. As brilliant a statesman as Kerensky would now prove himself to be, he failed to comprehend this key fact, and it would lead to his doom, as we shall see. 

 
Abdication

Informed about the mutiny in Petrograd, the Tsar at Stavka ordered General Ivanov, whom he now appointed to replace Khabalov as chief of the Petrograd Military District, to lead a force of punitive troops to the capital and establish a dictatorship there. Then he set off by train to be reunited with his wife and children at Tsarksoe Selo, but only got as far as Pskov. The train was halted on the orders of General Alexeev, the Commander-in-chief, who also called off the counter-revolutionary expedition. He was afraid of losing even more troops to the mutiny, and had concluded that the best hope for the restoration of order was the Duma government already in place.

By the next day it was clear that nothing less than the Tsar's abdication would save the army and the war campaign. All Nicholas' senior generals told him so in cables sent to his railway car in Pskov. Resigned to his fate, Nicholas agreed to abdicate in favor of his son. But his doctors reminded Nicholas that his son could not live long due to the hemophilia, and his generals told him that once he, Nicholas, abdicated, he would have to leave Russia. Nicholas then resolved to abdicate for his son as well and hand the crown to the Grand Duke Mikhail, his brother. But when this was announced to the crowds in Petrograd there were angry demonstrations with banners calling for the overthrow of the monarchy. Not a man to risk danger, Mikhail was persuaded to step down. And just like that, seemingly out of nowhere, the 300 year old dynasty of the Romanovs was over. The monarchy in Russia was no more.

It is hard to say what was going through Nicholas' mind when he made the decision to abdicate. Those who were with him on the imperial train were struck by his strange lack of emotion during this ordeal. Having made his decision, Nicholas went for his afternoon walk and appeared in the buffet car as usual for evening tea. "The Tsar sat peacefully and calm," recalled one of is aides-de-camp. "He kept up conversation and only his eyes, which were sad, thoughtful and staring into the distance, and his nervous movements when he took a cigarette, betrayed his inner disturbance." Perhaps abdication came as a relief. It saved him from reneging on his coronation oath to "uphold autocracy" and "remit this oath in its integrity" to his son. Obsessed with this "divine duty", he found it easier to abdicate than to turn himself into a constitutional king.

And yet-

Many historians wonder if, even at this juncture, it was not too late, had the Tsar been a stronger man? Other famous dictators throughout history, including Alexander, Barbarrossa, Ieyeyasu of Japan, etc., had been in equally precarious situations and had yet triumphed. Suppose the Tsar had announced, "No I am not going to abdicate; whatever problems Russia has, we will solve them, but not by doing away with law and order. All loyal soldiers and citizens, come stand with me," etc. Could he yet have saved Imperial Russia? (Or suppose that Nicholas had not been separated from Alexandra at this moment? Would she have allowed him to quit so easily?)

Obviously we can never know the answer to this. But from what I have read, I don't think the generals were correct; Nicholas did not have to abandon the throne so quickly. It was true that Petrograd was in the hands of the revolutionaries, but Russia is a large place and the revolution had not yet spread at this point in time. Moscow, for example, was relatively quiet. Yet another possibility is that the Tsar could have announced he was suing for peace. That would have pissed off the Allies tremendously, but it most likely would have halted the revolution in its tracks. 

In any case, none of this happened.The monarchy ended on the stroke of a pen, and the Russian government, such as it was, suddenly was thrown into two competing groups: the Duma and the Soviet. 

 
Man, that had to be a crazy time and place to be alive.
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.)

Then pick up your guitar and play, just like yesterday...

 
Thanks, Tim. You've managed to put a highly complex situation into words that even a ####### like me can understand. I've learned a lot from this thread. 

 
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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.”

 

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