In the Social Storm: Memoirs of the Russian Revolution By Boris Yelensky Chapter 16
Chapter 16
On the morning following the conference, I had a chat with Joseph Goodman about the matter of literature. I told him I would need both money and a trustworthy comrade to assist me. Goodman assured me that he had everything arranged; the money was ready and he had secured the services of a reliable young comrade to aid me. He then told me he had another job for me and hoped I would be willing to accept it. He said that two of the comrades from Nestor Makhno’s army who had been at the conference wanted to speak to me. Just as he was telling me this the two comrades walked into the bookstore and the four of us went into a back room.
After I was introduced to them, one of them said to me, “For a long time, the comrades in Makhno’s army have wanted to send some food to our teacher, Peter Kropotkin. We have the food but so far we’ve been unable to figure out a way to get it to him.
“A rumor has reached us that you might be able to handle such a delivery and we hope you will be able to help us fulfill this plan. We have brought with us two boxes of food and we ask if you will bring them to Comrade Kropotkin.”
I assured them I would be happy to help them and told them that I would know in a few days when I would be leaving Kharkov and would arrange with them then where and when to bring the two boxes.
The two young comrades had obviously been heavily burdened by the responsibility and somewhat worried at their inability to find a way to carry out their mission and my answer delighted them.
I was aware that it was time to report to my superiors that my health had improved. Sure enough, when I arrived at the office the next morning, the chief commissar summoned me into this private office and inquired after my health and asked when I would be ready to leave for Moscow. To demonstrate that I was a devoted worker, I replied that, while I still did not feel one hundred percent recovered, I was prepared to leave Kharkov as soon as he had issued the appropriate orders.
He seemed almost disappointed in my answer and then told me that, for the return trip, I would be riding in a special coach. It seems they had received a request from the Foreign Commissariat in Moscow to send as much as possible in the way of foodstuffs for the workers in the Commissariat, and also of course, a special parcel for the deputy commissar, Karochan. As soon as I heard this I started figuring and immediately knew that, by the same procedure by which I would bring food to Moscow, I could devise a way to bring our literature to Kharkov.
The chief commissar instructed the commissar of the railway to prepare a fourth-class coach and when this had been done, I received a number of vouchers for all kinds of food products which were still available in Kharkov. It took several days for all the items to be assembled and placed aboard the special coach, which was kept on a special siding at the station and was guarded by Red Army men. I cite this is incident as typical of the times and quite representative of living conditions throughout central Russia, particularly in the larger cities. Another contributing factor was the fact that the population was famished and, for a few meager foodstuffs, people would resort to measures which could bring serious consequences, perhaps even the death penalty.
In addition to these factors, there also arose, regarding such products, a type of bureaucracy mentality extending from the most menial official to the highest echelons. For instance, Chicherin, commissar for foreign affairs, was engrossed in his labors and gave little thought to adequate or savory foodstuffs. I asked him on one occasion what I should bring him from the Ukraine. He did not lift his eyes for a moment from the document he was reading, but gave me his answer, “If you can get hold of some lard for me, I would be most grateful.” His deputy, Karochan, on the other hand, had extremely aristocratic tastes and insisted on only the best and most expensive foods, liquors and cigars.
In the Kremlin, there was a so-called “cooperative,” where one could often obtain some groceries, especially fresh fish. The editor of the Moscow Izvestia, Steklov, while still occupying that position, would never fail to select for himself the very choicest cuts of meat. It is no exaggeration to state that the bureaucracy was born at the same time as the October revolution.
As I previously mentioned, it required several days before I was ready to depart from Kharkov, and I decided to take advantage of this free time to acquaint myself with the other two anarchist groups operating there. To be sure, the Nabat group carried on elaborate propaganda activity, but after the constructive undertakings we had worked at in Novorossiysk, I was not content with mere propaganda. It was my constant ambition to see these groups engage in various constructive projects.
Every evening, at a park in the middle of the city of Kharkov, there were meetings, debates and discussions on the most diverse topics among the large crowds which would assemble there. It was there that I became acquainted with several members of the anarcho-syndicalist group, and was invited to one of their meetings for the next day. Compared to Nabat, they were a rather small group. Several of their members knew of my work in Novorossiysk and I was in turn interested in their activities, especially in any constructive work they might be engaged in.
I learned that, in addition to their propaganda work at night, they had connections through several comrades who were employed there, with a large railway shop and had a considerable following among the workers. However they had made no attempt to have these workers organize an Internal Affairs Committee so that they might take over management of that huge plant through an Economic Soviet. the result was that there was an abundance of verbal and written propaganda resulting in a dead end – no constructive achievement.
The second group consisted of so-called “individualist anarchists.” Even at the earlier meetings, when I had first heard the speeches of their spokesmen, I had take something of a dislike to them. They were bombastic and rude, with no ethical consideration for an adversary in argument. In order to acquaint myself better with them, I decided to attend one of their meetings. Two young ladies who had accompanied me from Moscow were connected with this group through their husbands or lovers. When I indicated my desire to attend one of their meetings, the two girls came to my hotel to inform me that such a gathering was taking place that evening and that they would conduct me there.
We arrived at about nine o’clock that evening and found about thirty persons assembled in a dimly-lit cellar. At first, it appeared to be an intellectual circle. Some attempts were made to recite poetry or prose, but the general atmosphere wasn’t amenable to such things. A large number of those present were obviously there simply for a good time and since there was no dearth of wine and whiskey, there was some heavy drinking going on. The more they drank, the gayer and more uninhibited they became. I shall not dwell on the subject of morality, except to state that in the months to come, sex orgies were indulged in and several relatively innocent young girls paid dearly, both morally and physically. The end of that group came when they eventually turned to spying for the Cheka. But more of that story later.
Shortly before my departure for Moscow, I met with Joseph Goodman and a few other comrades, and we discussed the matter of what kind of literature I should acquire. A sum of money was given to me and an assistant, a rather reserved young man, to help me in case I found it possible to transport our literature to Kharkov. When I arrived at the office the following morning, all the essential papers for my journey were ready. These documents forbade members of the Cheka or the army to stage any search or investigations in my coach, since everything carried in it was the property of the Commissariat for Foreign Affairs.
In those days, it was still possible to obtain some foodstuffs in the Ukraine, but on the border between the Ukraine and Greater Russia one met military inspectors at certain of the stations who would make a thorough search of the train. If they found any foodstuff, it was confiscated. As a result, I engaged in several small skirmishes with these officers between Kharkov and Moscow and succeeded in salvaging the greater part of the produce. This made it possible for me to help some of our comrades in Moscow and also assured me it would be possible to transport a stock of our literature later to Kharkov.
When I reached Moscow, I saw to it that our coach was placed on a special siding at the station, and obtained a permanent guard from the military commandant until such time as the contents could be removed. With this task completed, I left my young comrade in the coach and went to the hotel where a room was still reserved for me from before my departure for Kharkov. To my pleasant surprise, I found that my room was still vacant. It was obvious that the influence of Shatov and Karochan had made itself felt, and I was quite relieved to find that I would not have to scurry about to look for another room. Out of gratitude I immediately telephoned Karochan to inquire when I could see him and turn over a parcel addressed to him personally.
It was no easy matter to reach a deputy to the Commissar of Foreign Affairs by telephone; however, in my capacity of diplomatic courier i used a little diplomacy and told one of the secretaries, who insisted on knowing the purpose of my call, that I had just arrived from Kharkov and had a parcel for Karochan and that she should communicate with him on this as soon as possible. I also added that I had brought some foodstuffs for the personnel of the Commissariat, and indicated the address where I could be reached. Karochan returned the call barely five minutes later and told me that he had sent his automobile to bring me directly to his office at the Commissariat, where I should bring his parcel. I remained in his office long enough to watch him open up the package which contained the finest cigars, chocolates and other delicacies which could not possibly be obtained in Moscow, and about which the famished public in general could hardly even dream.
The following day, the remaining products were hauled from the station to the Commissariat. A list of the employees working under Karochan was prepared and a committee, on which I was included, was selected to distribute the various items. After the distribution was made among the half-starved employees of the Commissariat, I became quite a popular figure. If at any time I needed anything, they felt obligated to help me. I became particularly friendly with Comrade Moisey, who was the chief assistant to Boris Reinstein. He was still a young man, an immigrant from Switzerland. He had arrived a full-fledged Bolshevik, but at the time was a very likeable fellow by nature. He maintained an individual outlook about many things and, where it was possible to ignore Bolshevik dogma, he did so.
The various VIPs in the Commissariat were so enthusiastic over my success in delivering these items to them that none of them even thought to ask what I was doing in Moscow when I had been dispatched to the territory held by the White Army.
I therefore decided that, before I handed over the letter from the Kharkov bureau to Boris Reinstein, in which the reason for my return to Moscow was explained, I had best have a talk with Bill Shatov, who at that time wielded considerable influence on both Reinstein and Karochan. After I had related the entire story to Shatov, he remarked, “Come and see me this evening, because both Karochan and Reinstein will be there. We’ll do everything possible to see that you don’t have to ‘invade’ the White Army area, where you would obviously be in great danger.”
When I arrived at his home that evening, I found a considerable crowd already present, many of them already somewhat tipsy. As usual, there was no lack of food or drink in Shatov’s apartment. As soon as I arrived, Shatov began to speak to Karochan and Reinstein about me. As soon as he noticed me, Karochan beckoned me over and in an amiable tone reproached me for not telling him previously that I had been active in the zone to which I was being dispatched. He also asked me whether I had with me a letter from the Bureau in Kharkov. I handed him the letter which he read rapidly and then remarked: “Forget the whole matter of that assignment; I believe i have a special mission for you which I am certain you can execute successfully and will enjoy. Come and see me tomorrow and I and several of my co-workers will consider the matter so that we can have you designated for this special work.”
I had not had the opportunity when I first arrived in Moscow, nor in Kharkov, to discuss Bill Shatov with any of my comrades. His style of living had aroused some suspicion. To be sure, I had known back in the States even that Shatov was, as we put it in those days, on intimate terms with John Barleycorn, but I did not suspect that, upon his return to Moscow, he had severed all connections with the Golas Truda group, which had published a journal under that name, first in New York and then in St. Petersburg. Nor was I at first aware that he had become chummy with Zinoviev, the “boss” of St. Petersburg, as well as the chief of the railway police, and that the two of them were having the time of their lives. Apparently both of them were partial to the life of luxury and shared an affection for heavy drinking. But more of Shatov later on.
When I reached Karochan’s office the next morning, I found Boris Reinstein already there. Karochan informed me that I would remain at my post as a diplomatic courier; and that in such a capacity, I would be required to travel about and distribute literature, particularly in the larger cities of the Ukraine. For this purpose, the special railroad car in which I had come would still be reserved for the Foreign Commissariat and I would be in charge of it. Furthermore, my pay would be increased and while en route I would receive extra compensation.
He also told me that instructions would be issued to build a number of sleeping rooms into my coach and that a special overseer would be appointed for the car. Karochan then handed me a packet of vouchers with a coupon entitling me to one month’s pay, and added that, as soon as the journal The Third International came off the press, it would be my task to go on a long journey to disseminate it as well as other literature; this would take about two weeks. He then pulled out of his huge desk a packet of tickets for the theater and the opera, handed me a goodly number and bade me enjoy myself until it was time for my journey.