In the Social Storm: Memoirs of the Russian Revolution By Boris Yelensky Chapter 20
Chapter 20
Angelica Balabanova was a woman of medium height, with a gracious smile, who radiated kindness through a gentle and winning voice such as one seldom encounters anywhere.
After official introductions, her first question was whether we might not be hungry. When we assured her that we had just partaken of some refreshments in my room, she still insisted that we oin her in a cup of tea. While she was occupied in preparing the refreshments, I thought to myself: How can so gracious a woman be a Bolshevik and occupy so eminent a post as that of Secretary of the Third International? I was unaware at the time that Karl Radek and his cohorts had already forged a conspiracy to eliminate her from the Third International. After we had our tea, Balabanova informed me that she needed to travel to Kharkov and from there to Kiev,and that she would like me to organize the journey. She was from a rather wealthy, aristocratic Jewish family and I was not aware of how she had joined the Socialist movement; however her aristocratic demeanor remained with her. In Bolshevik circles she was widely known for her mastery of several foreign languages and for her exceptional oratorical talents. Besides her patrician aspect and manner, she possessed, as the saying goes, a heart o’ gold. The more time I spent in her company, the more I could discern on her countenance deep chagrin over what was taking place in Russia. Whatever foodstuffs or other products she was able to get hold of, she would quickly distribute among the needy. She took to heart and grieved over the persecution which the Bolsheviks were inflicting on all political factions across the country. Indeed, she was among the very first to abandon both the organization and her native Russia.
In the meantime, an epidemic of typhoid fever was spreading ominously throughout Russia, and particularly through the railroad coaches. Balabanova therefore suggested that my private coach should be disinfected and that no one except myself, Alexey and herself should travel in this coach.
We were to leave in about two weeks time and Comrade Moisey was to see to it that all necessary preparations were made for the journey. The latter then expressed his opinion that we ought to take with us a large stock of literature, as there was no one else with whom to transport it and, besides, I had the requisite experience in that regard. Balabanova assented to this suggestion and this greatly facilitated our hauling of literature to Kharkov.
Since I was exhausted from the long journey, I went to my room to rest up that evening and did not call on our comrades. As I lay in bed I made a rough reckoning of my expansive journey in the course of which I had visited a number of groups and met numerous comrades. Although I had enjoyed the opportunity of travelling widely and making the acquaintance of hundreds of comrades, the whole thing afforded me little intellectual satisfaction, particularly following the great experimental project we had put through in Novorossiysk. At the beginning of my trip I had cherished some hopes that among these various groups I might possibly encounter some evidence of positive achievements and not merely propaganda, but in this hope I was disillusioned. The only activist group which I had really found to my liking was the Nabat group in Kharkov.
The basic question of what I should do next loomed in my mind. Should I abandon my post, which would liberate me from playing a double role which was against my grain, knowing as I did about the vast number of victims our movement had lost to the Bolsheviks and feeling as I did, that we were justified in carrying on our propaganda activities? In spite of this, underground activities were distasteful to me and it was this fact, primarily, which impelled me to want to surrender my position and offer my cooperation to the Kharkov Nabat group. However, cool logic asserted itself and this question arose in my mind: Where could I perform the most useful labor – by remaining in Kharkov or by being in a position. to help all of our affiliated groups? Thus, as I dozed off, I resolved for the time being to remain at my post.
The following morning I went to try and locate my young comrade to find out whether he had returned yet from Kharkov with the funds to pay off our literature debt and for purchasing additional books for Kharkov. We had agreed to meet either at the Gordin brothers’ place or in the book store of Golos Truda. I visited both locations and was informed that Ivan Apolon and Abram Christos were looking for me, and that they had left an address where I could locate them. It was somewhat of a surprise to me to find that these two activist comrades were in Moscow and I was eager to learn of the reason for their visit. It appeared that both of them had been working with the Ekaterinburg group and were publishing a newspaper there. When Kolchak seized that area, a partisan unit was on the scene and waged a bitter struggle against his army. Finally the partisan unit gave up the area and departed for Kharkov. However a number of comrades remained in Ekaterinburg and the surrounding area. Apolon and Christos were knowledgeable in the craft of publishing an underground journal and were seeking a way to bypass the military front and reach that city, where they would need the help of several local comrades to fulfill their task.
At the time of our encounter and conversation, I forgot to inquire after Katya and why she was not with them. Christos finally volunteered the information that it was a very tedious journey for a woman to undertake and therefore she had decided to remain in Kharkov and to operate there with an underground group. An additional reason was that, according to information received from Makhno, sometime in August the Red Army would be obliged to abandon the entire Ukraine, as well as a portion of central Russia. It seemed that the blockade by the Allied Powers, plus the aid that was being given to General Denikin, would enable the Allied Forces to occupy certain areas.
As a consequence of this news, the Nabat Confederation organized a special meeting and decided to set up a clandestine group comprised of comrades who would volunteer to remain at their posts in such an eventuality. Ivan Apolon advised me that, after they became stabilized and traveling was less complicated, Katya would come to Ekaterinburg. He also turned over to me a sum of money sufficient to pay our debt, as well as to purchase the greater part of the propaganda pamphlets which the underground group would need. We spent several days together and after that they set out on their difficult and dangerous way.
The following day, I visited the two book shops again, paid our bill with the Gordins and placed an order for more literature, then did the same with Golos Truda. When my mission was accomplished, I began calling on various comrades with the intention of finding and becoming acquainted with new comrades. One thing which puzzled me considerably was the fact that I failed to locate any of the considerable number of comrades whom the American Red Cross had assisted morally and materially, and with a number of whom I had conducted a correspondence over the past years. There was one exception, a comrade who inquired after me, but I had no opportunity to meet him. During my six years sojourn in Russia, I did not have the good fortune to meet any of these comrades, who apparently had been sentenced to hard labor and disappeared as if by magic.
In addition to my own visits to various individual comrades and to the clubs, my hotel room became a rendezvous for a number of companions who used to pay me special visits. This was especially true of those who were not too well fed, and who knew that in my apartment they could always count on a glass of tea and something to eat. Consequently my stay in Moscow, while I was relieved of official duties, was always in congenial company. I am not certain whether it was good fortune or coincidence that in the Hotel National, where I was lodged, there were also living a number of high-ranking Bolshevik officials and officers. At this time, after the lapse of so many years, I still wonder at my good fortune in not being dismissed from my position and condemned to the dungeons of the Cheka. The young comrades who visited me would frequently engage in arguments and in the midst of these heated discussions both they and I would forget that we were surrounded by Bolsheviks.
On one occasion, as we were returning from one of the clubs, a comrade informed me that a young woman named Olga Laich had been present at the club and had inquired after me. She left an address where I could find her. Notwithstanding the fact that she had disregarded my warning and that of Vanya Budnik not to run off with the sailor, the old-time comradely friendship which existed between us gained the upper hand and I decided to visit her. Since her apartment was not far from my hotel, I decided to call on her that same evening.
She embraced me and we exchanged warm kisses. It was evident from her hearty reception that our encounter recalled for her the many delightful incidents and evenings which we had spent together in Novorossiysk. More than a year had passed since she had left that city. At that time she was in her thirties and in the full bloom of womanhood. Now she was still a relatively young woman, but she showed traces of the many trying experiences she had lived through. There were noticeable bags under her eyes. We sat there and she would not release my hand from hers and I was obliged to relate to her in detail what had taken place in Novorossiysk after her departure, and also my own trying experiences in getting out of that city. As I spoke I could feel her hand tremble and discern tears in her eyes. Inwardly she was living through all the vicissitudes that I had experienced and I could detect from her face that she felt guilty about not remaining with us in Novorossiysk. Since I didn’t know what she was doing in Moscow and what had become of her sailor boy friend, I refrained from telling her where I was employed and what I was doing.
When I concluded my tale, she informed me that she had received a letter from her brother, Volodya, who was an army officer. By nature he was a rather rash and undisciplined fellow, and for some blunder he had committed was almost shot by a firing squad. This happened in Novorossiysk when General Denikin entered with his army. Volodya was conscripted and appointed a military commandant for the city. The first thing he did was to inquire through our acquaintances about my whereabouts, and he requested Bessie to come and visit him at his headquarters. The first question he put to her was to ask if I was in need of any help. She assured him that I was quite safe and thanked him for his friendly interest. He, in turn, pledged that should she at any time need his assistance, he would be pleased to help her in any way that he could.
To some extent I had already known about the whole business; now, however, when Olga related how her brother, an officer in General Denikin’s army, was eager to help me, I could sense that she felt uncomfortable about the whole business. Something was obviously tormenting her.
Despite the fact that she was happy to see me, I could sense a certain tenseness in the atmosphere. This was probably due to the fact that I had not said a single word about the sailor with whom she had eloped, and this seemed to prey on her mind.
In spite of my own reticence about the sailor, I was still curious to learn what sort of adventure the two of them had been involved in. Olga had two younger sisters and she informed me that the middle one was living in Leningrad and had married one of our Jewish comrades and the younger had married another comrade. I am uncertain precisely what eventually happened to the three sisters, but, as best I could assemble the facts, this is what happened:
The middle one finally divorced her husband because there was a deep suspicion that he was a Cheka agent. She herself, as a militant anarchist, was deported to Siberia. The youngest sister also left her husband and went to live with a member of the Cheka. As for Olga herself, I entertained a suspicion that she had been dragged into some clandestine activity by her sailor companion.
While we were engaged in this conversation, the door suddenly opened and the sailor entered. Now I understood why she was under such nervous tension all this time. I still failed to grasp how Olga, possessed of such a delicate nature and with such intellectual interests, could allow herself to live with so crude and culturally backward a man as this sailor obviously was. He was taken aback when he saw me and it was obvious that he was embarrassed by my visit. The furniture and decor in the apartment, as well as the refreshments she had prepared, clearly suggested that they were in the higher ranks of the privileged class, or perhaps even connected in some way with the Cheka or some other Bolshevik body. After partaking of a drink and dessert, Olga began to recount to him all that we had experienced until our successful flight from Novorossiysk.
He began to apologize and express regrets for all the hardships we had undergone. It appeared that he, Olga and Sofein had been engaged on a special mission and were unable to return to Novorossiysk. Even though I was a guest in their home, I told him bluntly that his behavior and that of Sofein in Novorossiysk was not the way a true comrade should act. I visited them on two further occasions, and then they disappeared again and none of our comrades saw them after that.
When I reached Moscow, a few of my more intimate comrades communicated to me that they were organizing an underground group whose mission would be to wage terror against the Bolsheviks and to engage in expropriations and sabotage, in a word, to do everything possible to disrupt the Bolshevik regime. One of the ringleaders of this group was a comrade named Kovalevich. If I am not mistaken, he wielded considerable influence upon the railroad workers. He and one other comrade, whose name I no longer recall, were relatively older persons, whereas the others of my acquaintance were young people who were attracted to the unit by the ‘heroism” and glamour which exerted tremendous impact upon their imaginations.
The entire issue of organizing such a clandestine group generated vehement discussions among the Moscow comrades, and these controversies often lasted late into the night.
Among the members of this group was a young lady, a highly devoted co-worker who had arrived with her entire family from Switzerland. She was living with another young woman who was also a member of the group. The girl’s name was Nina; she had a gorgeous complexion, was full of life and vitality and always wore an enchanting smile. Her entire appearance was such that few men could resist being attracted to her. She and her companion were of such an impulsive nature that they might at any time on the spur of the moment embrace one of us and plant a warm kiss, though in no way connected with sex.
I became acquainted with Nina on the second day after my return to Moscow. When I was visiting the club, some of my close comrades, knowing that refreshments were nearly always available in my apartment, invited themselves for a party to my room. They urged me to invite Nina also and she accepted readily, as if we had been longtime friends. I was somewhat puzzled how and why Nina, possessed of such rare beauty and charm, with such sexual magnetism and so young, could belong to so destructive a group. After a couple of hours my comrades departed, except for one young man who wanted to spend the night at my place. The impression Nina had made on me left me tense and kept me awake that night. I was eager to know more about her. Presently my companion told me that Nina had been in Moscow for about two months but that he did not know exactly when she came. He was a fairly close friend of hers and yet, despite her cordial and informal attitude toward men, Nina was the only one in the group who refrained consistently from sexual involvements. In fact, he remarked to me, “Did you notice how she embraced several comrades – even you, whom she had just met? But be assured that she merely regards men as comrades in a common cause, and nothing more.”
The following morning the telephone awoke me. It was Nina calling. I admit that I was surprised to hear her voice, and w:hen I asked her what was on her mind and why she was calling me so early, she explained that she wanted to be sure to catch me before I left for my office. She added that she would like to see me, if possible at the club. The thought came to me that here was my chance to try out the accuracy of what my comrade had told me about Nina, so I told her that I could complete my work by about noon, and that we could meet at a suitable place, join in a meal and then discuss our problem. My comrade, hearing that Nina was telephoning, immediately assured me that she had been assigned the job of persuading me to join their underground group. The specific mission I would be expected to fulfill would be to utilize my traveling privileges for their purposes.
When I arrived at my hotel towards noon, Nina was already awaiting me. We went up to my rooms and telephoned downstairs for room service to bring up hot water to brew some tea with. Nina immediately set about arranging the table and the provisions I had taken out for the occasion. It was difficult to believe we had only been acquainted for twenty four hours. Nina was free and graceful in her movements and I gained the impression that she had lived in this suite for a long time. She possessed the elegant manners of a lady and the gentleness of a mother. As I sat there and partook of the refreshments with her, I marveled at how this lovely young woman exhibited no nervousness at finding herself alone in a room with a strange man.
When we had concluded our meal, Nina cleared the table and would not allow me to help with the dishes. She was obviously quite adroit at the task. Then she remarked to me that my hotel room was not the proper spot to discuss this important issue, so I suggested a park located not far away, near a famous cloister, where we could speak unobserved. When we reached our destination, she said to me: “I suppose you are aware of the fact, Boris, that I belong to the underground group and it is on their behalf that I want to speak to you now. They have urged me on several occasions to try and interest you in their activities.”
Then, with extraordinary fervor, she began to delineate for me a picture of the ruins and wreckage the Bolsheviks had made of the October revolution, and how they had set out to exterminate the anarchist movement. It was obvious she was speaking from profound conviction and that she was striving to convince me that the methods proposed by her underground group were fully warranted by the situation.
As she spoke, her face glowed. I could sense she was experiencing in her mind the tragedy that was occurring at that time in Russia. While she was pleading with me, I continued to be puzzled as to why the spirit of revenge had grown so intense in this young woman. I felt bitter against whoever it was who had implanted such sinister ideas in the head of this young and lovely creature.
When she had concluded her plea, I replied that I would make no attempt to detach her from the underground group; presumably she was mature enough to know what she was doing and to order her own life as she saw fit. I added that she had been seduced into this ideology of romantic anarchism which may have been suitable for conditions existing decades ago, but was sadly out of place in the modern anarchist movement. I further reminded her that this recourse to expropriations had led to the moral and spiritual destruction of a number of our comrades. I pointedly told her of the episode I had witnessed in Kharkov in connection with the group which was practicing expropriations and indulging in bacchanalian revels – all in the name of anarchism.
Then I gave her a brief account of the constructive experiment we had put through in Novorossiysk, without expropriations or other destructive tactics. Even now, I emphasized, when we realized that the Bolsheviks were prepared to wreck the entire anarchist movement in Russia, I felt we had no right, from a moral point of view, to employ terror against the Bolsheviks – particularly at a time when all the sinister reactionary forces of the world were uniting to do their utmost to destroy the fruits of the revolution and bring back the hated old Czarism. I told her that the vast majority of comrades throughout the country opposed such terrorist tactics, because they simply provided ammunition for the Bolsheviks to broadcast to workers and to the revolutionary world about how the anarchists had combined with these dark powers to wipe out the gains of the October revolution. I added that while it was possible we would pay dearly for such an attitude, in recompense, history would vindicate the anarchist movement and its high moral imperatives.
When I had concluded, Nina asked me point blank whether I was refusing to help her group. My reply was that it was not a question of helping or not helping but that vital principles and attitudes were at stake here. Finally, I expressed the hope that our disagreement on this point would not disrupt our new-found friendship. She leaped to her feet, grasped my hand in hers and said with deep feeling: “Of course not! I am more than happy to be a friend of yours and right now I must confide a secret to you – I am hungry.” It appeared we had both been unaware that a half day had passed and that twilight was approaching.
When we arrived at my hotel, several of our comrades were already waiting for me. We all went up to my room, ordered some hot water for tea, and prepared a modest repast for the hungry ones – and who was not hungry in those days?
Since the officials of the commissariat felt that I was entitled to some rest after my lengthy journey, all my visits to the Foreign Office were in the nature of official calls. I had been back in Moscow only four days and besides, Balabanova was far from ready to set out on her trip. Thus I would spend only a short time at the commissariat, dropping in to say hello to Balabanova, and was more or less at leisure the rest of the time.
I took advantage of the free time to visit the two clubs to become acquainted with new comrades and to continue my search for the “bluebird’ which I had lost in Novorossiysk. But much as I sought among my comrades, I found not the slightest trace of this elusive bird of happiness. Indeed, in a few cases, I was accused of “anarcho-Bolshevism,” simply because I demanded that the anarchists undertake some constructive endeavor and not just sit around their clubs arguing about abstract issues and defying the police while waiting for someone else to erect a new social structure for them. Frequently I became so hoarse from these arguments I would lose my voice completely. At such times, the young and lively Nina would drag me away from the club and that would bring an end to the heated discussions. During those two weeks in Moscow, I had my happiest moments, in the company of Nina, her young girl companion and a few other youthful comrades.
On one occasion an incident occurred which illustrated how naive was Nina’s approach to the problem of relations between men and women. It was about 11 o’clock at night; I had already retired and was about to fall asleep when I heard the phone ring. I picked it up and inquired who it was and heard Nina’s voice. She told me that she and her young girl companion wanted to come up to see me, but were not permitted admission because of the late hour. I dressed hurriedly, went down to the lobby entrance and, since I was on good terms with the doorman, he promptly admitted my two comrades without too many questions.
When we got to my room, Nina told me that they had nowhere to spend the night. After they had left the club that night and walked a few blocks, they had become aware of someone following them. Nina, who possessed a strong conspiratorial instinct, crossed over with her friend to the other side of the street, hailed the first cab that came along and drove to my hotel, fearing to go to their own home.
My room contained a single bed, several chairs and a table, so I stated that I would try to sleep on the table and they could have the bed. Nina objected and suggested that all three of us sleep in the bed. She added that if we could not trust each other, there was no value in our comradeship. Her companion was a bit embarrassed by Nina’s plan and Nina scolded her for not having confidence in herself, then suggested that I sleep against the wall, she in the middle and her friend at the other end. Without another word, she commenced undressing, as normally as if she was in her own bedroom. Since her young companion was obviously still uneasy about the whole thing, I suggested we turn out the light. Only then did her friend begin to undress. I am unaware if her companion slept that night, but Nina was soon sound asleep and did not seem in the least concerned that a man was lying next to her. I must say in all candor that seldom in my life have I encountered such a morally pure and innocent person, in spite of my extensive connections with the many elements of our movement throughout the country.
With this in mind, it is understandable what a severe emotional blow it was to me when, about two months later, I learned that Nina, along with the majority of her group, were torn to pieces by a charge of dynamite when the Cheka surrounded their villa, where they maintained their conspiratorial activities.
Back in the United States, I had contact with our comrades, the Taratutas, who at that time were playing an important role in our movement in Russia. At this time a brother of theirs was living on a farm near Moscow with an old-time comrade, a former Siberian exile named Savitchky. They were cultivating a plot of land in order to produce a few provisions. I had given him some assistance with the school which they had organized for children who also made their home there. On a Friday afternoon I set out to visit the Taratutas and Savitchky; no easy task, as I could ride only part of the distance by trolley and after that had to walk for miles. When I arrived I was quite exhausted but the warm reception given me by Olga and Savitchky (the brother was not home at the time) quickly dispelled my fatigue. Both of these comrades had heard about me, and about Novorossiysk, but from the moment I sat down, I had to recount all the details of the Novorossiysk episode.
I argued and discussed various problems with them until Sunday afternoon, when I set out on my way again. Living on a farm they had become somewhat cut off from the dynamic activities of our movement, but in later years when I had the opportunity to visit them again, I left each time intellectually refreshed. Some years later Olga was arrested and disappeared from the scene, as was the case with so many other of our comrades.