Spies and Commissars

Robert Vaucher left an account of the Germans freed from detention camps by Sovnarkom:

In the streets of Petrograd the German ex-POWs walk around freely, dressed in new attire several days previously, belted in their blue, green or white pre-war uniforms, fully ornamented with frogging, with braids and with insignia. They parade the length of Nevski Prospect in their flamboyant lion-tamer uniforms with the air of victors and look down on their Austrian allies who are still dressed in their old uniforms which are patched, faded and threadbare.⁶⁵

Not everyone was eager to go back to Germany, for fear of being mobilized to the trenches of the western front. Nor was the German high command enthusiastic about using them as soldiers until all traces of Bolshevik influence had been removed. The Austrian commanders were still more worried about the contaminating effects of communism.⁶⁶ Lenin’s peace needed careful handling. The outcome of the Great War was being decided in northern France, but the dismantled eastern front retained its capacity to affect the situation in the western trenches.

11. REVOLTS AND MURDERS

While the Allies were gathering intelligence and even plotting the downfall of the new Bolshevik regime, organized opposition — as yet clandestine — to the Bolsheviks was growing. In the early summer of 1918, an informal coalition took shape bringing together anti-Bolshevik politicians in Moscow and Petrograd from the Kadets to right-wing socialists; no effort was made to appeal to monarchists. Leading liberals such as Petr Struve joined the enterprise and the National Centre, as it became known, kept up links with the so-called Volunteer Army in Rostov-on-Don as well as with Allied officials across Russia.¹ The Volunteer Army was the first of the White forces to be formed and was initially led by Generals Kornilov and Alexeev. The Whites chose their colour to distinguish themselves from the Reds and to suggest that their cause was a pure and just one. The Allies quietly welcomed them as determined enemies of Bolshevism. They also preferred the National Centre to the Right Centre, which included figures like Pavel Milyukov who made overtures to the Germans for help to bring down the Bolsheviks.² The Allied embassies feared that the Volunteer Army might make the same choice. There was also a Left Centre. Based in Ufa in the Urals, it consisted of socialists and successfully set up a local administration.³ Allied diplomats reported on these processes and kept a lookout for signs that the people of Russia were getting ready to overthrow Bolshevism and re-enter the embrace of the Allies.

In fact the deadliest threat to the Soviet regime as yet came not from Russians but from Czechs. It crystallized when the Czech former POWs journeying in armed batches from Penza to the Pacific coast turned violently against the Bolsheviks.⁴ The trouble flared up in late May when the Chelyabinsk Soviet tried to disarm the Czechs before allowing them to travel any further. Trotsky had issued an appeal for the Czech volunteers to join the Red Army; he had followed this up with an order that they could proceed to Vladivostok only if they handed over their weapons. Instead the Czechs seized control of Novonikolaevsk and then travelled back westwards as far as Penza to rescue their comrades.⁵ Opinion was divided in the People’s Commissariat of Foreign Affairs about Trotsky’s management of the process. Radek tried to convince Robert Bruce Lockhart that Soviet leaders in Moscow had simply acted out of anxiety about letting the Germans think them indulgent to Allied interests.⁶ Karakhan was less charit-able, admitting that Trotsky could have handled things with greater understanding.⁷ Whatever their views, the outcome was a disaster for Sovnarkom as 25,000 Czech troops assembled in the Volga region and put themselves at the disposal of the Komuch government in Samara. They no longer intended to fight on the western front but planned to stay and fight Bolsheviks. Komuch had always been militarily weak, but the Czechs could help to rectify this.

The Allies pretended to be mere spectators of this turnabout. This was less than convincing. The French had been subsidizing and liaising with the Czechs from March to May. The British too had been involved. In essence the Allied leaders wanted the Czech troops to cause trouble and undermine Soviet rule in Siberia — and the Germans, having negotiated Russia’s withdrawal from the war, were annoyed by this.⁸ The Bolsheviks reeled from blow after blow. Workers grumbled about conditions in factories and mines and demobbed soldiers returned to villages where anger at the state seizures of grain was acute. Peasants in many provinces were on the brink of revolt. Sovnarkom governed only the areas of Russia around Moscow and Petrograd plus the Urals. The Red Army was still a shambles. The Cheka could scarcely cope with the growing number of plots and protests. In the soviets there was unceasing criticism from the Left Socialist-Revolutionaries who hated the peace treaty and the turn in agrarian policy towards forcible seizures of grain. Food shortages in the cities worsened. Urban residents with any ties to the land fled to the countryside.

Ambassador Noulens in Vologda hoped that the Bolsheviks were on the brink of collapse. Wanting to make his own assessment, in early June 1918 he paid a return visit to Moscow where he held a meeting with what remained of the French colony. He knew he was under surveillance. At the time he felt his trip was worthwhile since he learned about the various subversive actions being contemplated. But Noulens’ interpreter and confidant was the French reporter Rene Marchand. It soon became clear that Marchand’s sympathy lay with the Bolsheviks — and indeed he later transmitted everything he knew to the Cheka.⁹

The rapid westward advance of the Czech troops forced the Kremlin to think again about the Romanovs. Until the winter of 1917–18 the former emperor and his immediate family and retainers had been quarantined in Tobolsk in western Siberia, where they had been dispatched by Kerenski — and the emergencies in Russian affairs meant that few people wondered what was happening to them. But, although they were out of sight, the Bolshevik leaders did not forget about them. On 11 February 1918 Sovnarkom considered a proposal to bring the former emperor to Petrograd to be put on trial;¹⁰ but no action followed until 9 March, when Lenin and the government decided instead to move them to Yekaterinburg in the province of Perm for fear that monarchists might try and liberate them in Tobolsk.¹¹ Yekaterinburg was the Soviet administrative centre of the Urals region and a stronghold of Bolshevism; it was also nearer than Tobolsk to Petrograd and Moscow and on the Trans-Siberian railway. Moisei Uritski, head of the Cheka in Petrograd, oversaw the transfer, and the precise place of confinement was left to the Yekaterinburg comrades.¹² They picked the large walled mansion of the once-wealthy merchant, Nikolai Ipatev. The transfer and the reasons for it were announced by Sovnarkom in early May.¹³

Nicholas II whiled away the time by reading novels by Turgenev as well as anti-Semitic tracts. He and his wife behaved as normally as possible while tending to the needs of their son Alexei and their daughters. The Bolsheviks kept up the pressure by changing their guards frequently and making it difficult for the Romanovs to form any friendships with them. Each fresh shift started by uttering obscenities and shunning overtures. At least the food was adequate, but the uncertainty was demoralizing. Sensing that they might be moved again in unpredictable circumstances, the former empress Alexandra and her daughters sewed jewels into their underwear for use as currency in an emergency.

By mid-July the Czechs were within days of reaching Yekaterinburg and the Bolshevik leadership in the Urals were panicking. The fear was that Nicholas Romanov might be freed and used as a rallying symbol of the anti-Soviet cause. The order came from Moscow to liquidate the entire family. Exactly who issued the instructions, and how and when, was deliberately kept unclear. No communist leader wanted to put his signature to a warrant that might later incriminate him. The deed was done early in the morning of 17 July when the Romanovs were ordered from their beds and marshalled in the cellar. Armed men, sodden with drink, stood them against the wall before gunning them down. The news was suppressed: the fear remained in Moscow about the likely reaction in Russia and abroad. Trotsky’s diary records that the Kremlin leaders in Moscow had held a discussion about the plan for liquidation and given their instructions to the Yekaterinburg Bolsheviks. Lenin and Sverdlov were actively involved. Trotsky, tied up with his military duties on the Volga front, heard the story from Sverdlov and was disappointed. Although he had no objection in principle to the killings, he would have preferred to put the ex-emperor on show- trial to publicize the iniquities of the Imperial government. Trotsky never liked missing any propaganda trick.¹⁴

Sovnarkom met on the day of the killings to hear Sverdlov’s confidential report.¹⁵ Nothing was said in public for several months. It was understood that foreign monarchies, including the Hohenzollerns, would be enraged by what had been done. The Kaiser and the emperor were cousins, and even though their armies had