Spies and Commissars

wires from Russia I feel I am shouting at a drunken man asleep in the road in front of a steamroller… I think it possible that the revolution will fail. If so, then the failure will not mean that it loses its importance… No matter, if only in America, in England, in France, in Germany, men know what it was that failed, who betrayed it, who murdered it. Man does not live by his deeds so much as by the purposes of his deeds.⁵

A crusade against Soviet Russia was anathema to troops who longed for demobilization and shipment home. Powerful resistance grew to making war on communism.

This was certainly the line taken by Labour Party candidates at the hustings before the general election on 14 December 1918. Ramsay MacDonald thought that it had served the Allies right that Lenin had dragged Russia out of the war; he was also sympathetic to the Bolsheviks as fellow socialists, despite being regularly insulted by them in print.⁶ The New Statesman, breaking its wartime silence about how to handle Russia, joined the Daily Herald, the Manchester Guardian and the Daily Express in putting pressure on Lloyd George and the government to halt the intervention. Even the Daily Telegraph, usually a supporter of the Coalition, objected to ministers refusing to ventilate their considerations on Bolshevism in parliament or the press. The Secretary of State for War, Lord Milner, was an exception; he openly contended that it would be ‘an abominable betrayal, contrary to every British instinct of honour and humanity’, if the country abandoned those Russians who had supported the Allied forces of intervention — and he confided to ex-charge d’affaires Konstantin Nabokov that his personal preference was to reinforce the military intervention.⁷ But generally the Coalition MPs avoided the Russian question save only for affirming that a vote for them would help defend the United Kingdom against Bolshevism. Their electoral tactic paid off. When the results were declared on 28 December the Coalition had triumphed.⁸

Robert Bruce Lockhart’s line was more belligerent than Milner’s. Newly returned from Moscow, he was acclaimed as a near-martyr who had done his patriotic duty. In the House of Commons only the Liberal MP Joseph King sounded a discordant note about him. King had got hold of the Soviet version of events and pointed out that Lockhart was no innocent but had tried to suborn the Latvian Riflemen into arresting Lenin and Trotsky.⁹ This isolated clamour drew no response from Lockhart, who maintained his focus on seeking to influence governmental policy; with Germany defeated, he favoured an all-out invasion of Russia. On 7 November, the first anniversary of the October seizure of power in Petrograd, he forwarded a memorandum to the Foreign Office emphasizing the strength that accrued to the Soviet government from its repressive zeal as well as its popularity with workers and peasants. The Bolsheviks were easily the biggest party in Russia; the counter- revolutionary forces were hopelessly divided. Lockhart pointed out that the communist leadership was intent on expanding the revolution into central Europe. He mapped out the various options before recommending military force ‘to intervene immediately on a proper scale’. He proposed sending British troops to Siberia and Archangel. But his idea was that the main offensive should be organized from the south: he called for 50,000 men to be dispatched to the Black Sea to link up with the Volunteer Army.¹⁰

Lockhart predicted success for an invasion at a time when the Red Army was weak and the Allies were not yet exhausted. No time was to be lost.¹¹ Balfour ignored him, and Lockhart sensed a general frostiness in Whitehall:

After a week at home it is perfectly obvious that apart from the relief of having rescued me from the Bolsheviks the Foreign Office is not in the least interested in my account of things. They prefer the reactionaries who have never even seen Bolshevism. Tyrrell and Hardinge are frankly and avowedly hostile and I may even have difficulty in obtaining another job.¹²

W. G. T. Tyrrell served as head of the Political Intelligence Department at the Foreign Office; Charles Hardinge was Permanent Under- Secretary to Balfour. Behind them stood Lord Robert Cecil as Under-Secretary of State. They had disliked Lockhart since early 1918 when he was advising the government to give official recognition to the Bolsheviks. Now they rejected him as a whirligig. Lockhart learned that Tyrrell regarded him as ‘a hysterical schoolboy who had intrigued with the Prime Minister behind the Foreign Office’s back’. This was a reference to Lloyd George’s dispatch of Lockhart to Russia as an antidote to the cautious policy pursued at the time by Balfour. Lockhart reasonably concluded of Tyrrell: ‘Not much hope in this quarter.’¹³

Others, including the King, were more favourably disposed. Lockhart recorded his meeting with George V in his diary for 23 October 1918: ‘The King was very nice and showed a surprising grasp of the situation; he however did most of the talking and during the forty minutes I was with him I didn’t really get much in. He sees pretty well the need for reforms everywhere, and has a wholesome dread of Bolshevism.’¹⁴ Lockhart, originally a proponent of accommodation with Lenin and Trotsky, stayed firmly anti-Bolshevik for the rest of his life.

Winston Churchill refrained from advocating an all-out Allied invasion, but he was the one politician to speak out more strongly than Milner against the Soviet order. In his electoral address to his Dundee constituents on 28 November 1918 he declared: ‘Russia is being reduced by the Bolsheviks to an animal form of Barbarism… Civilisation is being extinguished over gigantic areas, while Bolsheviks hop and caper like troupes of ferocious baboons amid the ruins of their cities and the corpses of their victims.’¹⁵ Even for Churchill this was pungent language. When referring to the Germans, mortal enemies of the United Kingdom until a few days previously, he called them ‘barbarian’. But barbarians are human. Churchill’s speech was aimed at dehumanizing the Soviet leaders and their followers as a way of persuading people that the October Revolution had somehow to be overthrown. On another occasion he wildly referred to Bolshevism as a baby that should be ‘strangled in its cradle’. Churchill was fired up on the Russian question, but he usually liked to drop a phial of wit into his fulminations. About Russia he felt no such impulse.

Perhaps Churchill’s monarchist sentiments had an influence. He had stood out against those who called for the hanging of the Kaiser, and anyway he was with Lloyd George in trying to prevent harsh peace terms being imposed on Germany. It was Churchill’s habit to focus obsessively on chosen problems. His colleagues trembled when he was in one of his moods; and everyone remembered his pet military project in 1915–16 to land Allied troops at Gallipoli — people forgot that he thought that insufficient troops had been provided for the task. He was notorious for pushing forward with plans without having thought through how he would cope if things went wrong. When criticism was made, he grew obstinate and put himself beyond debate. Yet behind the frothing schemes and wild rhetoric there was his acuity of vision. His instincts told him that something deeply menacing — indeed evil — was in the making in the east. He knew no more than anyone else in the cabinet about the Soviet leadership and its intentions. But he had enough information to sense that they presented a fundamental threat. If the need arose, he was willing to stand alone and fight for his opinions.¹⁶

In France, the attention paid to revolutionary Russia was less intense for a while. The Great War was barely over and all thoughts were focused on the securing of Allied authority over central Europe. Germany had to be stabilized and peaceful economic recovery facilitated in several countries precariously poised on the brink of famine — and most French politicians sought to punish the Germans for the four years of carnage.

In America the State Department was fitful in its examination of Russian affairs. Ambassador Francis was no longer in northern Russia. By October 1918 his health had collapsed and he travelled to London for medical treatment.¹⁷ Meanwhile Lansing was too busy with German questions to occupy himself with the situation further east in Europe. Inside the State Department, sympathizers with Soviet Russia were acquiring influence. Among them was the young William C. Bullitt, who headed the Far Eastern desk. Already in March 1918 he had held discussions with Santeri Nuorteva of the pro-Soviet Finnish Information Bureau in New York.¹⁸ Bullitt and Nuorteva met and wrote to each other, and Nuorteva was pleased to have found a friend in high places.¹⁹ Bullitt took the line that the October Revolution had a vast importance for world affairs and that American policy ought to be based on an informed acquaintance with Soviet intentions. Yet there was more to it than just that. Bullitt was one of the few Americans outside the labour movement and certain business lobbies who favoured some kind of accommodation with Sovnarkom. He detested the Anglo-French military intervention in Russia and Ukraine and hoped to lessen and reverse his own country’s involvement in such ventures.

Bullitt’s career had started in journalism. He had made a brilliant name for himself with interviews with politicians of the Central Powers that pointed to German complicity in Austria-Hungary’s declaration of war on Serbia.²⁰ He came from a charmed background of well-to-do Philadelphia lawyers and had degrees from Yale University and the Harvard Law School. During the war he worked in Europe reporting for the Philadelphia Public Ledger and dabbled in writing novels. He married the aptly named