“The Bolsheviki have turned the intelligentsia into a class of hunted animals,” G⸺ said. “We are looked upon as even worse than the bourgeoisie. As a matter of fact, we are much worse off than the latter, for they usually have ‘connections’ in influential places, and most of them still possess some of the wealth they had hidden. They can speculate; yes, even grow rich, while we of the professional class have nothing. We are doomed to slow starvation.”
Snatches of song and music reached us from across the street, coming apparently from the house opposite, its windows flooded with light. “One of the Cheka commissars,” my host answered my questioning look. “By the way, a curious incident happened to me,” he continued, smiling sadly. “The other day I met that Chekist. Something about him attracted my attention—a peculiar sense of the familiar that I could not account for. Suddenly it dawned on me—that new dark-brown suit he wore, why, it was mine! They took it from me in the last house raid, two weeks ago. ‘For the proletariat,’ they said.”
XXIII
In Soviet Institutions
Petrovsky, Chairman of the All-Ukrainian Central Executive Committee, the supreme government body of the South, sat at his desk busy over a pile of documents. A middle-aged man of medium stature, his typical Ukrainian face is framed in a black beard, lit up by intelligent eyes and a winning smile. A peasant-Communist appointed by Moscow to high office, he has remained democratic and simple in manner.
Learning the mission of our Expedition, Petrovsky evinced the greatest interest. “I am heartily in sympathy with it,” he said; “it’s splendid, this idea of collecting the material of our great Revolution for the information of the present and future generations. I’ll help you all I can. Here, in the Ukraine, you will find a wealth of documents, covering all the political changes we have had since 1917. Of course,” he continued, “we have not reached the well-organized and ordered condition of Russia. The development of our country has been quite different, and since 1918 we have been living in constant turmoil. It’s only two months ago that we have driven the Poles out of Kiev—but we have driven them out for good,” he laughed heartily.
“Yes, we drove them out for good,” he repeated after a while. “But we must do more; we must teach the cursed Poles a lesson—the Polish pani,34 I mean,” he corrected himself. “Our good Red Army is almost at the gates of Warsaw now. The Polish proletariat are ready to throw off the yoke of their oppressors; they are only waiting for us to give them a helping hand. We expect the Revolution to break out there any day,” he concluded in a confidential way, “and then Soviet Poland will combine federatively with Soviet Russia, as Ukraine has done.”
“Don’t you think such an aggressive policy may produce a harmful effect?” I asked. “Threatened invasion may serve to arouse patriotic ardor.”
“Pooh-pooh!” the Chairman laughed. “You evidently don’t know the revolutionary temper of the Polish workers. The whole country is on fire. The Red Army will be received ‘with bread and salt,’ as our saying is—be given a hearty welcome.”
The conversation turned to the situation in the South. “The work of organizing Soviet conditions,” Petrovsky said, “is progressing very satisfactorily in the districts evacuated by the Poles. As to the economic situation, the Ukraine used to be the great bread-giver of Russia, but the farmers have suffered much from confiscation and robbery by the White forces. However, the peasants have learned that only under the Communists they are secure in the enjoyment of their land. It is true, many of them are kulaki; that is, rich farmers who resent sharing their surplus with the Red Army and the workers. They and the numerous counterrevolutionary bands make the work of the Soviet Government very difficult. Makhno, in particular, is a source of much trouble. But the Greens and other bandits are being gradually liquidated, and before long Makhno also will be eliminated. The Government has decreed merciless war against these Soviet enemies, and the peasantry is aiding in its efforts.”
“You must have surely heard in Russia about Makhno,” Petrovsky remarked, giving me a searching look. “Many legends have grown around his name, and to some he appears almost a heroic figure. But here in the Ukraine you will learn the truth about him. Just a robber ataman, that’s all he is. Under the mask of Anarchism he conducts raids upon villages and towns, destroys railroad communications, and takes a fiendish delight in murdering commissars and Communists. But before long we shall terminate his activities.”
Girl clerks kept coming in, bringing documents, and answering telephone calls. Most of them were barefoot, while some wore new, high-heeled shoes without hosiery. From time to time the Chairman interrupted the conversation to glance at the papers, putting his signature to some and referring others to the secretary. But he seemed eager to continue our talk, dwelling on the difficult problems
