The Outcasts Join Forces

The Treaty of Rapallo, April 1922

The Bolsheviks were not simply out to overthrow the Russian tsar. Their ultimate goal was world revolution. This goal was driven not only by a desire to do the world the favor of giving it the perfect political system, but also by Marxist theory, which saw the working class as the main force for revolution. Once the tsar and the bourgeois government had been defeated, the “dictatorship of the proletariat” would need to establish its rule. There was one problem, however. In Russia in 1917, the proletariat constituted an insignificant percentage of the population.

In the late nineteenth and early twentieth century, Russian industry was developing at a rapid pace, but not everywhere. Cities like St. Petersburg, Moscow, and Warsaw (which was part of the Russian Empire until 1918) had a huge number of factories, but there were whole provinces where heavy industry was a foreign concept. Furthermore, Russian workers were not the sort of force that Marx envisioned. They did their jobs like any worker, but all their dreams, goals, and hopes were tied to their native villages, where, in most cases, their wives and children were waiting for them. In the summer, such workers would often leave the city and head home to help their families bring in the harvest. The children of these worker-peasant hybrids also often left for jobs in the city, but continued to maintain ties with their villages. Thus, not only were there very few workers in Russia, but most of them had peasant mindsets. And peasants, from the point of view of Marxist theory, were just members of the petit bourgeoisie and hardly a force for revolution.

Why this digression into Marxist theory? In order to appreciate the decision-making and actions of the young Soviet regime, it is important to bear in mind the theories that guided them, or at least were supposed to guide them.

Long before the Russian Revolution, Lenin’s brethren within the international socialist movement objected to the idea that Russia could be the world’s first communist country, arguing that it was not ready, since its working class was small and uneducated. Hardly fertile ground for a dictatorship of the proletariat! It would take decades before Russia would be ripe for revolution, critics said.

But Vladimir Ilyich was adamant. He had an answer for every argument. There might not be many workers now, but their ranks would grow. They might be uneducated, but the Bolsheviks would show them the way. And, most importantly, the Russian revolutionary effort would be supported by the proletariat in Western countries, particularly Germany, where industry was much more developed and where a powerful revolutionary movement was already in place.

Surely Russian workers could count on the land of Marx and Engels, who had called on workers of the world to unite! No sooner would revolution break out in Russia than German, French, English, and American workers would also rise up and overthrow their capitalist oppressors and then assist Russian workers in building communism and a society of such abundance that people really would be able to contribute “in accordance with their abilities” and receive “in accordance with their needs,” while money and commerce faded into history.

This was how it was supposed to work out, but theory is one thing and real life quite another. Over the course of 1917, the Bolsheviks attracted more and more supporters, primarily by promising to immediately end the war with Germany. This promise transformed them from a small group of radicals into a major political force. And, true to their word, as soon as they came to power they issued the Peace Decree and called on all governments fighting World War I (and all people, if their governments should refuse) to begin peace negotiations.

Russia’s former allies were horrified. Victory was so close at hand. Russia’s withdrawal gave Germany a chance to regroup and fight on.

Most of Lenin’s supporters were equally horrified. How could anyone negotiate with German imperialists, especially just when the German populace, worn out by years of war, was deeply discontented and German workers were on the verge of erupting into rebellion? This was a betrayal of the ideas of world revolution!

But there was no choice. Russia did not have the strength to fight on, and the people could easily turn against the Bolsheviks if they went back on their promise.

Despite this, even within Lenin’s inner circle there were those who felt that it would be better to lose power in the short term rather than take actions that benefited the German government. The longer the war continued, the higher the probability that German workers would revolt.

Lenin, on the other hand, would sooner have sacrificed his right arm and the prospect of world revolution than relinquish his newly acquired power. A few months after their takeover, the Bolsheviks signed the Treaty of Brest Litovsk with Germany, thus prolonging the First World War by almost a year. In late 1918, a revolution did take place in Germany and Kaiser Wilhelm was overthrown, but it was not communists who succeeded him.

Nevertheless, the dream of world revolution did not disappear overnight. Europeans were so tired of war and so disappointed in their own governments that revolution, rebellion, and strikes broke out all over the continent. And during Russia’s Civil War, troops marched on Poland chanting, “Onward to Warsaw, to Berlin” – the dream of world revolution still inspired the die-hard heart.

But within a few years, the situation in Europe began to change. Economies recovered, unemployment fell, salaries rose, and revolutionary speeches were drowned out by the hustle and bustle of relative prosperity. It became clear that German workers would not be supporting the construction of communism in Russia. The meager Russian proletariat would have to sort things out on its own.

At this point the Bolsheviks made another departure from Marxist orthodoxy. In 1922, when it became clear that the communists had won the Russian Civil War, Moscow received an invitation to an international conference in Genoa to discuss economic and financial issues. Even though it was clear that this would be a conference of capitalists, Russia’s sworn enemies, the Soviets sent a large delegation headed by People’s Commissar for Foreign Affairs Georgy Chicherin. The Soviets did not have the slightest intention of meeting the main demand placed before them in Genoa – repaying the debts of the tsarist and provisional governments – but they did take advantage of the opportunity to make many incendiary speeches, which were printed in Western newspapers.

Furthermore, this was an opportunity to test the waters. Was the West united in its antipathy toward Russia? Germany, for example, was now a pariah state, blamed for the past war. It had signed a treaty with Russia at a difficult time. Its secret police had provided funds to Lenin when he was living in emigration before the revolution. Perhaps Germany would be open to the idea of an alliance?

Russian diplomats set out for Rapallo, a neighboring city, and began separate talks with the German delegation. To the shock and consternation of the conference’s other attendees, Germany apparently felt no compunctions about signing a treaty with the Bolsheviks and even recognized the nationalization of all German private enterprises on Russian territory as legitimate. Trade began between Germany and Russia and, most important, Russia provided places where Germany, almost entirely demilitarized after the First World War, could quietly rebuild its military might away from prying eyes. [In fact, Russian and German military collaboration had begun in secret during the spring of 1921. It continued until September 1933, nine months after Hitler came to power. Many of the tactics which formed the basis of the Nazi’s blitzkrieg were first tested on Soviet soil during this period; the training also gave the German air force, one expert has estimated, a ten-year advantage over the allies.]

The Treaty of Versailles that ended the First World War reduced the German army to a minimum and forbade Germany from building heavy weapons – tanks and planes. But who could object to Soviet Russia building an aviation factory, or creating a flight academy and tank firing ranges, or even grounds for testing poison gasses – all with the help of German expertise? And if German soldiers were also trained there, who would be the wiser?

Surely this represented a triumph for Soviet diplomacy. A wedge had been driven into the unified front of capitalist powers. Russia was importing German goods. And England, France, and America were outraged, which was icing on the cake.

As to the idea that 19 years later German tank troops trained outside Kazan would cross the border and enter Moscow, or that German pilots trained in Lipetsk would be bombing Soviet cities – who could possibly have seen that coming?

And what about world revolution? That little detail was quickly forgotten. Revolutionaries tend to discard such romantic notions as soon as they come to power.

By 1926 “socialism in one country” was official Soviet policy. The dream of world revolution was set aside in recognition of European realities and economic necessity (thus the New Economic Policy begun in 1921, a year before Rapallo).

In foreign policy, the next major ideological about-face came in 1935, with the adoption of a policy of encouraging “popular fronts” to oppose fascism. Socialist parties that had previously been anathema were suddenly to be treated as allies in the fight against fascism.

This policy only lasted until another, better known, Soviet-German pact came along, the 1939 Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact, which led to a new set of instructions for Communists across the globe. Fascism was no longer the enemy. The enemy was anyone promoting the necessity of war.