measures’. According to Stalin, such conflicts as had broken out since the October Revolution arose from clashes about class and power rather than about nationhood.13 Nevertheless his attitude was castigated by the Socialist-Revolutionaries for being ‘infused with a centralist power’. He gave no ground: he said the country faced a simple choice between ‘nationalist counter-revolution on one side and Soviet power on the other’.14
His capacity to stand up to leaders of other parties as well as his editorial experience and expertise on the national question made Stalin an obvious choice — along with Sverdlov — to chair sessions of the commission drafting the Constitution of the Russian Socialist Federal Soviet Republic (or RSFSR). There had been no thought about the details before the October Revolution. Even general principles had been left unclear: Lenin and Stalin had advocated federalism while skirting round what this would involve. Out of the hearing of the zealots in his People’s Commissariat for Nationalities’ Affairs, Stalin admitted that many non-Russian groups were making no demands at all for autonomy: Russia was not tormented by nationalist strife. Stalin admitted that even the Tatars and Bashkirs, to whom he wanted to grant an autonomous republic, were displaying ‘complete indifference’. He therefore wished to avoid specifying the national aspects of the Constitution while this situation persisted.15 But something of substance had to be inserted if the non-Russians were to be won over, and Sverdlov and Stalin insisted on this in the teeth of opposition from the Bolshevik left.16 Bolsheviks had to be pragmatic in spreading the power and ideology of the Revolution. The national question offered an opportunity to win converts to socialism.
This did not save Stalin from personal attack. The Left Socialist-Revolutionaries had representatives on the commission, and they did not hold back from criticising him. A. Shreider objected that he had no principled commitment to national rights and used federalist rhetoric to disguise an imperialist purpose. Official Bolshevik policy was allegedly little different from the measures of Nicholas II:17
Stalin’s structures are a typical imperialist construction; he’s a typical kulak [rich peasant] who without embarrassment declares he’s not a kulak. Comrade Stalin has got so used to such a position that he’s even assimilated imperialist jargon to perfection: ‘They beg from us and we grant to them.’ And of course — according to Stalin — if they don’t make the request, then we don’t give them anything!
This was calumny; for Stalin was offering autonomy even to national groups not demanding it. It is readily imaginable what happened to Shreider in later years. Stalin did not forget much in life. As the chief persecutor of the kulaks from the late 1920s he did not take kindly to being compared to a kulak or to any other ‘enemy of the people’; and he never forgave a slight.
His sensitivity was exposed in March 1918. It was then that Menshevik leader Yuli Martov published an article on the past sins of the Bolsheviks, mentioning that Stalin had been expelled from his own party organisation before the Great War for organising armed bank robberies. Stalin arraigned Martov before the Moscow Revolutionary Tribunal for slander.18 That Stalin should have expended so much energy in trying to refute Martov’s allegation was a sign of his continuing feeling of insecurity at the apex of politics. He had a Georgian sense of personal honour; indeed he had it in an exaggerated form. Martov had besmirched his reputation. Stalin got his name cleared by a Bolshevik-run court. (It was noticeable that Stalin did not deny involvement in the organisation of the robberies: he did not chance his arm by risking the possibility that Martov might summon witnesses.)19 The Moscow Revolutionary Tribunal found in Stalin’s favour, but not before Martov dredged up other embarrassing episodes from Stalin’s past. He mentioned that comrades in prison in Baku had tried Stalin for participation in the robbery campaign; and Isidore Ramishvili was called as a witness. Martov also brought up the story that Stalin had had a worker beaten to within an inch of his life.20
The libel case was the overreaction of a hypersensitive man. If Stalin had not made a fuss, hardly anyone would have noticed what Martov had written. Stalin’s resentment did not end with the conclusion of the trial. When in 1922 Lenin asked him to transfer funds to Berlin for the medical care of the dying Martov, Stalin refused point- blank: ‘What, start wasting money on an enemy of the working class? Find yourself another secretary for that!’21
This was not the only aspect of his inner life revealed in these months. Debating nations and administrative structures in the Constitution commission, he forcefully declared: ‘The Jews are not a nation!’ Stalin contended that a nation could not exist without a definable territory where its people composed the majority of inhabitants. This had always been his opinion,22 and it ruled out the possibility of granting the Jews an ‘autonomous regional republic’ such as he was proposing for others.23 Was this evidence of a hatred of Jews for being Jews? Stalin differed from Lenin inasmuch as he never — not even once — commented on the need to avoid anti-semitic impulses. Yet his People’s Commissariat for Nationalities’ Affairs had its own Jewish section and funded Yiddish newspapers, clubs and folk-singing ensembles. Many Jews belonged to his entourage over the next two decades. To a considerable extent he was just sticking to a dogmatic version of Marxism. But there was probably more to it than that. Nothing can be proved, but probably he felt uneasy in dealing with Jews because they were unamenable to administrative control on a simple territorial basis — and he also had a growing rivalry with several leaders of Jewish origin in his party: Trotski, Kamenev and Zinoviev.
At any rate the commission’s records scarcely refer to Lenin. Matters were debated on their merits within the frame of Bolshevik and Left Socialist-Revolutionary ideas. Stalin was his own man. Indeed it was the Left Socialist-Revolutionary M. A. Reisner who brought up Lenin’s name. His objection was that Stalin’s project reflected the ‘anarchic’ tendencies embodied in Lenin’s recently published
If he was a rare Bolshevik moderate on the national question, though, he was constantly extreme in his advocacy of state violence and dictatorship. Stalin was convinced that severe measures should be applied against the enemies of Sovnarkom. He was in apocalyptic mood: ‘We definitely must give the Kadets a thorough beating right now or else they’ll give us a thorough beating since it’s they who have opened fire on us.’27 Violence, dictatorship and centralism slept lightly in the Russian political mind — and many conservatives, liberals and social-democrats were already beginning to think that they had been wrong to stick after the February Revolution to principles of universal civil rights, gradualism and democracy. Bolshevism had never carried such an inhibiting legacy. Those Bolsheviks who had yearned for a gentle revolution could usually be persuaded to accept the case for authoritarianism. There was no need to persuade Stalin.
Bolsheviks had always talked casually about terror and its uses for a revolutionary administration. Yet until power had come into their hands it was unclear how keenly they would resort to it. If there were any doubts about this, Lenin and Trotski quickly dispelled them in the weeks after they overthrew the Provisional Government. Lenin established an Extraordinary Commission for the Struggle with Counter-revolution and Sabotage (Cheka in its Russian acronym) — and he ensured that it would remain beyond regular supervision by Sovnarkom. In subsequent years he supported nearly all pleas by Felix Dzierzyn ski and other Cheka leaders for permission to expand the application of methods of state terror. Not every Bolshevik leader approved this development. Kamenev on the right and Bukharin on the left of the ascendant party leadership urged that violence should be deployed on a more predictable basis and should be reduced in scope. Stalin was never one of these. Terror attracted him like a bee to a perfumed flower. Not once had he offered an opinion on the matter before the October 1917 Revolution, yet his preference for arbitrary state violence was speedily evident. When Bolsheviks in Estonia telegraphed him about eradicating ‘counterrevolutionaries and traitors’, he replied with hot approval: ‘The idea of a concentration camp is excellent.’28
State terrorism had already been installed as a permanent item in his mental furniture. It appealed to his coarse personality. But the attraction was not just psychological; it was also based on observation and ideology. Stalin and other Bolsheviks had grown up in an age when the world’s great powers had used terror against the people they conquered; and even when terror was excluded as a method, these powers had had no scruples about
