Where from? From where does this nastiness come from in people? These faces, faces, these are some faces. Where do these strange dark faces come from? But Russian women are completely different. Same for Russian old women. God! Save Russia!
I'm no prophet. I am only doing my duty, and the rest is not from us. But I hope that everything will work out well.
Russia is not France, and Petrograd is not Paris. Russia is villages, Russia is a countless number of cities, huge economic and cultural centres. Russia is wisdom. Which allows her to endure such circumstances in which other nations would have already descended into complete anarchy. Wisdom is the great God of the Russian land! And we hope that it will hold us back, at the last minute, from the only horror which threatens Russia, the revolution and freedom - a civil war. See more
Russia is not your Kazan, not your palace, not Mariinsky Square, where you can throw your tantrums. Russia isn’t a square in Petrograd. True, she will watch this hysterical scene with horror, with disgust and with grief, but she will do so calmly - because in a mad house, somewhere on the outskirts, an epidemic broke out and all the residents were taken by a fit of violent insanity - but that does not mean that the whole city will consider it their duty to go insane.
It was difficult for Russia to rule from the palace at Tsarskoe selo. Russia will not be able to rule from Kshesinsky “Palace”.
A demonstration, organised by the “Woman Worker” magazine, took place. Its success has surpassed all expectations. The Ciniselli Circus could not accommodate the crowd of several thousand and we had to organize two additional demonstrations on the square and in the circus’s garden. This, essentially, is the realisation of a working plan that we have proposed.
All these days of late have encouraged a sense of youth, a poetic yearning for some kind of southern escape (as always in good weather), and thoughts about chance encounters...
With a sense of great relief I read about the Cossack Congress that happened in Petrograd; the Cossacks made an oath to strengthen republican Russia and to save it from anarchy and Leninists. Thank you, dear ones, great sons of the Danube. A soothing impression was also created by the Peasants’ Congress that has decided against embarking on an unauthorised, plundering distribution of land before the convocation of the Constituent Assembly.
We also have surprising heat. From the beginning of May until now there has been no rain, it is humid, dusty, oppressive. The general political situation is similar to the weather conditions. There is no invigorating, gracious rain, and no storm with gale and thunder.
A riddle: “What’s the difference between an ordinary bourgeois government and a government which is extraordinary, revolutionary, and doesn’t regard itself as bourgeois?” The difference, they say, is the following: See more
An ordinary bourgeois government can ban demonstrations only on constitutional grounds, and not before declaring martial law. An extraordinary and near-socialist government can ban demonstrations on no grounds at all, and on the strength of “facts” known to it alone.
The counter-revolution can only emerge into our midst via one door, and one door alone – via the Bolsheviks. What the Bolsheviks are engaged in now is no longer ideological propaganda; it is conspiracy. May the Bolsheviks forgive us, but we shall now resort to other means of struggle. Revolutionaries unworthy of the arms they bear must have those arms confiscated. The Bolsheviks need to be disarmed. We shall permit no conspiracies…
One of my divisions was due to replace another; just when the time came for the units to advance to the front line, a divisional commander arrived. I asked the general whether he trusted his troops, but my misgivings seemed to offend him. I advised the commander that I’d dispatched several cannon to the site where his units were supposed to be located, just in case. Half an hour later, the general reported that the troops were refusing to go into the trenches. But as soon as the first shells exploded in the vicinity of the camp, everything fell into place, and the general’s honour was saved.
Yesterday was a big day: Muravyov, Manukhin and I made the rounds of our clients in the fortress. We witnessed some “heart-rending” scenes. Protopopov gave me his notes. Someday I'll tell you who this talented and contemptible person really reminds me of. Among them are unfaltering individuals whom I respect (Makarov, Klimovich), but for the most part they’re utter rabble! Whenever they’re spluttering with tears or saying something they regard as very important, I look on at them while experiencing a particular sensation: a revolutionary one…