It was the most imposing demonstration of revolutionary consciousness I had ever seen, and I felt inspired by it. But the appearance of the marchers was depressing; they were undernourished, exhausted, poorly clad, and I noticed many children walking barefoot. It was probably due to their physical weakness, I thought, that the paraders showed so little enthusiasm—they barely responded to the greetings of the Communists on the reviewing stand, and the frequent “Hurrah, Hurrah, Tovarishi!” shouted by Lashevitch and Antselovitch, Zinoviev’s lieutenants, found but a weak, spiritless echo in the ranks of the passing demonstrators.
The festivities closed in the evening with an open air mass spectacle, illustrating the triumph of the Revolution. It was a powerful portrayal of the age-long slavery of the people, of their suffering and misery, and the underground revolutionary activities of the pioneers of liberty. The best artists of the city participated in the portrayal of the great Russian drama and gave an intense and moving presentation. I was spellbound by the horrors of the Tsars’ tyranny; the clanking of the slaves’ chains echoed in my consciousness, and I heard the muttering of approaching storm from the depths. Then sudden thunder of cannon, groans of the wounded and dying in the world slaughter, followed by the lightning of rebellion and the Triumph of the Revolution.
I lived through the whole gamut of the great struggle within the two hours of the performance, and I was profoundly stirred. But the huge audience remained silent—not a sign of approval was manifested. Was it the apathy of the northern temperament, I wondered, when I heard a young workman nearby saying: “What’s the use of it all! I’d like to know what we have gained.”
XVIII
The British Labor Mission
—New life has come to Petrograd with the arrival of the British Mission; many meetings, banquets, and festivities are taking place in its honor. I believe the Communists are inclined to exaggerate the importance of the visit and its probable results. Some even think the coming of the Englishmen augurs the political recognition of Russia in the near future. Soviet newspapers and Communist speeches have created the impression that the Mission represents the sentiment of the whole British proletariat, and that the latter is about to come to the aid of Russia.
I heard the subject discussed by a group of workers and soldiers at the meeting in the Labor Temple. I had been asked to render into English the resolutions to be presented, and a small table was assigned to me. People crowded about me to get a better look at the delegates on the platform. The full glare of the electric lights shone upon Ben Turner, the Chairman of the Mission, short, stocky, and well-fed.
“There, look at him!” a worker behind me exclaimed, “you can tell he’s from abroad. Our people are not so fat.”
“What wonder!” a soldier replied, “it isn’t Russia, England isn’t, and people don’t go hungry there.”
“The workers starve everywhere,” a hoarse voice said.
“These are not workers,” the first man corrected. “They are delegates.”
“Of course, delegates, but proletarian delegates,” the hoarse voice insisted. “The English working class sent them to see what help we need.”
“You think they will help?” the soldier asked hopefully.
“That’s what they are here for. They’ll go back home and tell the proletariat there how we suffer, and they’ll have the blockade taken off.”
“God be willing, God be willing,” the worker sighed fervently.
A man passed by, energetically pushing his way through the crowd, and ascended the platform. His prosperous appearance, well-fitting clothes, and ruddy face were in striking contrast with the people about.
“Look at that fat delegate! They ain’t starving in England,” the soldier whispered to his neighbor.
Something familiar about the stout “delegate” fastened my attention. His eye fell upon me and he smiled recognition. It was Melnitchansky, the Chairman of the Moscow Soviet of Labor Unions.
Considerable disappointment is felt in Communist circles regarding the Mission. The military displays have failed to impress them, the visits to mills and factories have produced no enthusiasm among the “cold-blooded Britishers.” They seem purposely to avoid a definite expression of opinion regarding aid that might be expected from their country or the nature of their report to the workers of England. Certain remarks by individual delegates have caused uneasiness. Some Communists think it poor taste to honor a labor mission with military demonstrations, some of whose members are outspoken pacifists. A revolutionary country like Russia, they say, should lay more stress on the proletarian consciousness of the people as the true symbol of its character and the best guarantee of its peaceful intentions. The visits to the industrial establishments, it is claimed, could impress only with their lack of productive results and the fact that the factories and mills had been “primed” for the delegates. It is even whispered about that the Britishers sense in the official atmosphere with which they are surrounded a sort of surveillance very irksome to them.
The men sent from Moscow to welcome the Mission—Radek, Melnitchansky, and Petrovsky—believe that every effort must be made to create a good impression on the delegates, in the hope of securing their favorable report in England and correspondent action there in behalf of Russia. Radek and Petrovsky are strong defenders of “diplomacy”; Petrovsky, especially, who apparently enjoys considerable influence in the councils of the Party, though his allegiance to Bolshevism is of very recent origin. I knew him in America as Dr. Goldfarb, labor editor of the New York Jewish Forward, and a very fanatical Social Democrat—a Menshevik, in the Russian terminology. His conversion to Bolshevism was rather sudden, and I am surprised to learn that he holds the important position of Commissar
