In the Social Storm: Memoirs of the Russian Revolution By Boris Yelensky Chapter 11
Luck was apparently favoring the Bolsheviks from all sides. It would seem at times that they were on the verge of annihilation and suddenly, as if by magic, the wheel of fortune would turn and they would be able to extricate themselves. One advantage which they enjoyed was their policy of stopping at nothing and persisting despite all obstacles. In addition, they possessed a powerful organization in which every single member was expected to carry out the mandates of the Party. By contrast, among anarchists of all the various shadings a vast chaos existed; the historical reasons for this are not difficult to define.
The principal hindrance to more effective and unified action by the anarchists was the romanticism which dominated all the anarchist groups, even the anarcho-syndicalists. Though the latter did believe in labor organizations, they accomplished little on the practical plane. Only a few groups sought to engage in constructive undertakings. Outstanding among them was Nestor Makhno’s army of Partisans. There were also actions by smaller bands of partisans such as those of Max Cherniak (a barber from Chicago), Marusia Nikoforova and others. However, these groups were essentially military in nature and, even with the best of good intentions, they could not, under the conditions existing then, always remain in the same locality, with the result that their constructive efforts were often wasted when they were obliged to shift to new positions.
This romantic spirit of the anarchist movement produced in this period a class of comrades I would designate as “gastraliaren” (peripatetics, rovers), people who could not seem to remain in one place but who roamed from one city to another. In addition, we acquired numbers of “naliotchikes”, (leeches, parasites) who attached themselves to the movement and whose “anarchism” consisted exclusively in expropriating property for their own use and sometimes worse crimes.
Novorossiysk was no exception in having its quota of “gastraliaren”. However, until the end of our experiment, they had no outlet for their activity. They were bluntly told that they would be kept under surveillance and then they would move on to greener pastures. However, when we liquidated the Economic Soviet and our group was no longer engaged in a positive project, a few of our associates, having nothing else to do, reverted back to their romantic ideology. This signalled the breakup of our group, despite all we had accomplished in the way of a new social order through cooperation.
At first we would gather daily to analyze the events of the day but these meetings came suddenly to an end. They had been held in the home of Katya Garbova, but when we arrived there one day we found the door locked. We were puzzled by this and Vanya Budnik and I went to the residence of Olga Laich where, to our surprise, we found Katya Garbova and several other members of our group enjoying themselves around a table laden with food and drink. Two of the participants were strangers to us and their appearance made us suspicious. It was evident that our unexpected arrival tended to disrupt the cheerful atmosphere which had existed there. Not being particularly timid by nature, I bluntly asked why the daily get-togethers had stopped and why they had not deemed it necessary to inform us; and also who were these two interlopers (“gastraliaren”).
Olga Laich, a new and somewhat shy comrade, first of all introduced these two characters to us. One was Safein (the name was know to me as one of the Odessa “naliotchikes”) and the other one, if I am not mistaken, was called “Sergei the sailor”. Olga Laich apologized for not duly informing us about the meetings - she thought that Katya kept us informed. I then asked my second question; was it permissible to know for what purpose these two “comrades” had come to join the Novorossiysk group? Since Katya sat there, abashed over her uncomradely behavior, Olga took it upon herself to explain as follows: “They have an important mission to perform and are carrying a large amount of money with them. Inasmuch as a Civil War is raging everywhere, they want Katya Garbova and myself to accompany them. In addition, they want the other comrades to organize a partisan army in the Caucasus Mountains and are prepared to contribute considerable funds for this purpose.”
When I asked where the money came from I was told that it belonged to the Moscow Soviet regime. Inquiring further, I pursued the question of why we should risk the lives of four comrades when the simplest procedure would be to turn the funds over to the Bolshevik Party here in the city, obtain a receipt and thereby their mission would be accomplished. “If you want to organize a partisan force, we are prepared to help you,” I stated, “but you would have to initiate it and remain right here.”
Both Safein and Sergei began to argue that they alone were responsible to the Soviet Government for the money and therefore could not accept my proposal to turn over the funds to the Bolsheviks in Novorossiysk, nor could they remain here to mobilize a partisan force. I soon realized that Sergei was casting covetous eyes on the naive and goodhearted Olga, and that she had become infatuated with the belief that this adventure constituted an important anarchist undertaking. She allowed herself to be seduced and later to become Sergei’s wife. I have no idea what eventually became of the money or what its real source was. I do know that, in those days, anyone who had the impulse printed money. I rather suspect that Safein and Sergei owned a printing press and made counterfeit currency and that their wondrous tale was only an invention for the benefit of the unsuspecting Olga and the more practical minded Katya to persuade the two girls to accompany them.
Without previous consultation, Vanya Budnik and I emphasized that we would not take part in their adventure to organize a partisan army, nor would we have anything to do with their money. We also told them we assumed no responsibility for Olga and Katya. If they wanted to go along as two women, they might do so, but not in the capacity of members of our group. We added that we thus terminated our participation in the great experiment effected by our group in the course of the past nine months. We left Olga’s house without even saying goodbye.
That same evening I ran into Olga on the street and she tried to convince me that in two weeks’ time she would return and we would work together again. She argued that it was her duty to help the two comrades and that Katya felt the same way about it. I had a high regard for Olga, both as a comrade and as a person, and it pained me to see her fall into such a hideous trap. I vented my opinion about their venture but my words fell on deaf ears. Two or three days later, the four of them left Novorossiysk and that was the beginning of the end of our group. Shortly afterwards, Vanya Budnik and Katya Izviekova also left, leaving only a couple of members behind. This signalled the final end of our experiment.
Difficult as it was to reconcile myself to the thought that this model example of human cooperation had been shattered, matters became even worse when conspicuous symptoms began to appear of the destruction of the promising beginnings of the great Russian Revolution. To this day the Bolsheviks are being accused of derailing the great social revolution. That is indeed a fact, but at the same time one needs to pose the question: Was there any moral or physical force that was capable of checking the Bolshevik Party?
The only available moral power that could have done so was the anarchist ideal, which was capable of inspiring the Revolution to strike deeper roots throughout Russia. Anarchism possessed the requisite moral strength to do so; but regretfully, the old-time anarchist romanticism which came to the fore during the Revolution prevented the creation of the large cadres of constructive co-workers in the anarchist movement. Adherents of the philosophy dreamed a beautiful dream, but developed nothing of a constructive nature to make it a reality. The experiment in Novorossiysk and those in a few other places were not adequate enough nor great enough in scope in themselves to arrest the false course followed by the Bolsheviks. Still, these experiments in miniature did prove historically that Utopia can be transformed from a dream into a great and splendid reality.
The few comrades who did remain in Novorossiysk would come together from time to time, and the former chief figures in the Economic Soviet would also attend. We would discuss the general; condition of the country and, in particular, of the situation around Novorossiysk. We learned that General Denikin’s White Army was on the march toward our city. Since we has severed our relations with the Bolsheviks, we could extract no information from them about the general situation, or whether they had any plans for evacuation in the event Denikin reached the city. To all our enquiries they replied with the “line” that all was going well at the front and that Denikin would never succeed in reaching Novorossiysk. Despite their assurances, we felt that things were not nearly as rosy as they would like us to believe.
Actually of course, they were not telling us the truth. The situation around Novorossiysk was becoming more and more critical. The only escape from the city was by way of the Black Sea; but there were no means of transportation at hand for this purpose. The few small craft available were under the control of the Bolsheviks and furthermore there was no place to go! The Crimean Peninsula was controlled by the Crimean Democratic Regime who looked askance at anyone coming from Novorossiysk. This situation was duplicated in the independent Georgian Republic. All this resulted in a trap for anyone who would have to flee from the city in the event of a White Army assault.
If I remember correctly, it was about mid-August or September when I approached the Soviet and attempted to sound them out on conditions at the front. I had a close friend in the military commissariat who held the post of military commissar. Normally he would give me a friendly smile, but this time I could see he was deeply worried. When I asked him point-blank how things stood, he made a gesture which indicated that all was not well. I also noticed that he was putting portions of his documents into an attache case, and destroying large sections of the rest. This was a clear indication of how matters stood.
We began to ponder the thought of how to break away from the city. We decided that Bessie and our son should remain in Novorossiysk for the time being, since we were fairly confident that the invaders would not molest women and children. We were waling along the street one day, absorbed in thought, when cannon shells began to burst around us. Before long a panic broke out in the city and the remnants of the Red Army began to evacuate in the direction of the Caucasus Mountains.
It is said that history repeats itself and this was the case with me. I was now in the same spot I had been in in 1905 when, following the memorable six-week Soviet revolution, the Czarist military units assaulted Novorossiysk. It was scarcely feasible to make a dash for home, since as soon as the firing on the city began, suspicious looking elements made their appearance. I went into the shop of a cap maker who was a friend of the family. He immediately closed up his shop and I had a place to spend the first night. Our friend also informed my wife of my whereabouts.
Towards nightfall, General Denikin’s army marched in and began a wave of searches and arrests. I could not remain safely in the shop so the next day I went to the home of another friend. He managed a laundry but I was known here to the workers and the shop had an open door with soldiers and officers of the White Army moving in and out all day. It was necessary to locate a shelter where I could hide out until things quieted down. I finally located a spot in the center of the city with a family who were close friends and who operated a tailor shop. When they learned that I needed a hiding place they invited me to come over that evening and they would provide a room for me. Moving from one place to another in the city entailed some risks. Residents who had suffered financially from the new order lent aid to the White Army and spies circulated in the center of the city. Anyone at whom the finger of suspicion was pointed was arrested immediately. Luck was on my side however and I arrived safely at my destination, where the door was kept open for me.
I was treated to a pleasant evening meal and a bed in which to sleep but I found it impossible to fall asleep. During dinner I heard a commotion outside and when I stole a glance through the window I was horrified to find that in the large courtyard a unit of the Kuban Cossacks had been dispersed and some of them were coming into the house. Throughout the night there was much tumult among these Cossacks, who were conducting searches and helping themselves to anything in sight.
I remained confined in my room for a week, surrounded on the outside by the Cossacks. I will only relate one incident of the many that occurred that could drive one to a heart attack. One day as I was sitting by the window, I suddenly observed the proprietor of my mother’s apartment entering the shop, accompanied by two officers. I was certain that he was conducting the officers to arrest me, since he was quite capable of such a trick. Besides, he was angry with me because some time before I had destroyed several hundred pails of his wine. I reached for my automatic pistol and prepared to receive my “guests”, who were now only two rooms away from me. I could hear the murmur of their voices but couldn’t make out what they were saying. An hour later they left and my friend came in to explain. It seems the man had only brought along the officers to order new uniforms from my friend.
What tricks destiny plays on us! The rogue had looked for me all over the city and here he had been only a few steps from me and didn’t know it. Bessie, my mother and my elder sister began to plan how to get me out of the city. It wa dangerous to go by train and the only rational route was by sea. As soon as the White Army units had penetrated the city, a fleet of small craft had gone into action, sailing as far as Kerch. But to go there required a permit from the occupying authorities, no easy thing to obtain. My mother, who for several decades had maintained a home restaurant, frequently had to hand out graft to the higher police officials, since not all Jews coming into the city had the right to remain there longer than 24 hours. It turned out that one of these officials, who had resigned his post after the October revolution and had not taken part in any political activity, had been appointed by the Whites as police superintendent. By chance, this official had learned of my attitude regarding the captured officers which I related previously and had a kindly feeling toward me. When my mother sought his help, he immediately affixed his seal to my passport and I obtained permission to leave the city.
There was still no certainty if my departure would go unhindered, and my sister decided to accompany me as far as Kerch. She made preparations through an acquaintance to leave on Saturday evening, leaving me only one remaining problem - how to reach the boat in safety, a bit of a challenge since I was known throughout the city and any enemy could spot me and betray me to the police.
Again luck intervened. In the house where we lived was another couple and the wife’s younger sister. The sister had taken no active part in our movement but she spontaneously offered to drive me to the boat. This was a very courageous and magnanimous gesture on her part and we debated a bit with ourselves about placing her in jeopardy. However she persisted in her offer and we had no choice but to accept. I suggested she go in and out of the house where I was staying several times a day so that the neighbors and the Cossacks posted in the courtyard would become accustomed to seeing her. I also told her I would engage a friendly coachman, Pyotr, who I trusted. He even declined to accept any pay for the job and arrived right on the dot with his carriage and two frisky horses.
All dressed up like a “dude”, I ran at top speed from the house to the carriage and in a matter of a few seconds we were riding off down a side street. This was done so quickly that none of the people around the house had any chance of seeing who came out or who the young woman in the carriage was.
As we approached the boat, Pyotr slowed down so as not to appear conspicuous, since at the pier there were ment on the alert to see who was departing. Alongside the boat the young lady embraced me and gave me a hearty goodbye kiss, so as to make my leaving appear normal. I grasped my suitcase and in a moment or two was on board. In the distance I could see the police superintendent standing on the wharf and, as we shoved off, he waved goodbye to me with his handkerchief. A half hour later we were on the open sea and I was a free man again. After nearly two weeks of insecurity and fear I felt a great sense of relief. Before long I fell asleep from sheer exhaustion.
About ten the next morning my sister woke me to tell me we were approaching Kerch. Thus ended the first chapter of my participation in the Russian Revolution.