The glitter and falsehood of the revolution: the Bolsheviks would have lost if they had accepted Lenin’s plan

But it’s about the same story as with the Big Bang: in the picture of the birth of a new world, more precisely, in the pictures of which a great many have been created over more than a century, for every political and artistic taste, there are much more myths and legends than facts. Most of all fiction, of course, is in the canonical, official Soviet version of the VOSR – the Great October Socialist Revolution. Although here it is also better to use the plural: versions changed depending on the political situation.

The greatest concentration of falsehood was achieved, perhaps, in the classic film Lenin, the film “Lenin in October,” on which several generations of Soviet viewers grew up, which for many people in the country and abroad became the main source of knowledge about these amazing days. Moreover, the apotheosis of falsification of history was not the original, original version of the film, filmed and released in 1937, but the edited version of 1963.

In the original, Lenin creates a revolution together with Stalin: Lenin’s comrades, who by that time had fallen into the category of “enemies of the people” (and some had already been shot), are absent from the screen. And after the cult of personality was exposed, Stalin also disappeared from the film.

Whole rows of scenes where the “wonderful Georgian” was present were cut out completely, and in the remaining ones he was obscured by human figures and objects that were completed and mounted in frames. Let’s say, in the final scene, Lenin’s speech at the Second Congress of Soviets, Stalin is hidden by a sailor standing up at the right moments in the hall and a lamp on the podium, now appearing and then disappearing.

In fact, the VOSR did not owe its victory to Lenin. If he had commanded the parade, then, quite possibly, the world would not have been shocked at all. Well, or I would have been shocked in a completely different way.

Lenin’s plan envisaged the seizure of power at a much earlier date. Lenin began to speak about the need for an early armed uprising already in the second half of September 1917. He believed that it was necessary to act immediately, without waiting for the convening of the Second Congress of Soviets. And the further he went, the more his anxiety grew.

“Delay is positively becoming a crime,” writes Lenin in a letter to the Central Committee, MK, PC and members of the Soviets of St. Petersburg and Moscow, the Bolsheviks, dated October 1 (14). “Waiting for the Congress of Soviets is a childish game of formality, a shameful game of formality, a betrayal of the revolution.” According to the leader of the Bolsheviks, the most suitable conditions for a coup were available at that time in Moscow. That’s where we had to start.

“In Moscow, victory is assured and there is no one to fight,” Lenin argued. – If Moscow starts bloodlessly, it will certainly be supported by: 1) the army at the front with sympathy, 2) peasants everywhere, 3) the fleet and Finnish troops (we are talking about Russian troops stationed in Finland. – “MK”) are going to St. Petersburg. Even if Kerensky has one or two corps of cavalry troops near St. Petersburg, he is forced to surrender. The St. Petersburg Soviet can bide its time, agitating for the Moscow Soviet government… Victory is assured, and there is a nine-tenths chance that it will be bloodless.”

However, subsequent events showed that Lenin was very mistaken about Moscow: of the two capitals, it was the Mother See that offered the most serious resistance to the Bolsheviks. Moreover, after their St. Petersburg triumph, that is, when the anti-Bolshevik forces were largely discouraged and demoralized.

The armed confrontation in Moscow began on October 27 (November 9) and lasted 8 days, until November 3 (16). It was during these events that the concept of “white guard” was born (in relation to anti-Bolshevik forces): this was the name of a detachment of Moscow student youth who used white armbands as their identification marks.

What would have happened if the Bolsheviks had started from Moscow? Most likely, this would have been the end of it. This is confirmed by the memoirs of Leon Trotsky: “It is absolutely obvious that if the uprising had begun in Moscow, before the coup in Petrograd, it would inevitably have become even more protracted with a very dubious outcome. And failure in Moscow would have a serious impact on Petrograd. Of course, victory would by no means be ruled out along this path. But the way events actually took turned out to be much more economical, more profitable, more victorious.”

Well, the fact that “the path that events really took” was chosen is entirely the merit of Lev Davidovich. At the time of the seizure of power by the Bolsheviks, Trotsky was the chairman of the Petrograd Council of Workers’ and Soldiers’ Deputies and the de facto leader of the Military Revolutionary Committee formed by the Petrograd Soviet, the headquarters of the coup.

It was he, the “demon of the revolution,” who convinced the leadership of the Bolshevik Party not to accept Lenin’s proposal, to hold off, to postpone the seizure of power until the Second Congress of Soviets, to properly and thoroughly prepare for its seizure. And in the end he provided the Bolsheviks with an easy, easiest victory.

According to Trotsky himself, by the time the coup entered the open phase, it was already three-quarters, if not nine-tenths, a fait accompli. The events of October 24–26 (November 6–8), which went down in history as the October armed uprising in Petrograd, were, in his assessment, only of an additional nature.

And it’s difficult to argue with Trotsky. Yes, by that time the Bolsheviks did not yet fully control the city. Moreover, they did not control government institutions. But the main factor of victory was in their hands: the Petrograd garrison came under their control and became subordinate to the Military Revolutionary Committee. Moreover, the power of the Military Revolutionary Committee was recognized not only by soldiers and sailors, but also by senior officers. At least many of them.

As confirmation, we can cite the report of the commander of the 106th Infantry Division, Colonel Svechnikov, preserved in the archives to the commander of the 42nd Army Corps, General Nadezhny, dated October 25 (November 7), 1917: “All regiments are reliable in combat. The mood is entirely supported by the spirit of the need to defend the Council of Workers’ and Soldiers’ Deputies, for the transfer of power to it in Russia. The unity between the command staff and the soldiers is complete due to the democratization of the division.”

By the way, Colonel Svechnikov was one of the most active participants in the storming of the Winter Palace and commanded a detachment of grenadiers in his division. However, the fierce assault on the Winter Palace is another myth formed by Soviet historiography and Soviet cinema. Resistance to the attacking class was weak and short-lived. And there was practically no one to resist: at the time of the assault, the palace garrison consisted of 140 shock troops of the 1st Petrograd Women’s Death Battalion, 2–3 companies of cadets and 40 disabled Knights of St. George.

In its form and essence, the October Revolution was nothing more than a military coup. Unlike February, the general public did not take part in it, remaining in the role of spectators. Sometimes in the literal sense of the word.

At the time of the storming of the Winter Palace, the opera “Don Carlos” was being performed in the People’s House located not so far from it, in which Fyodor Chaliapin performed the leading role, the role of Philip II. According to the singer’s memoirs, after cannon shots were heard nearby, on the Neva, panic arose in the hall and on stage. But it soon calmed down. “A minute later, people came running backstage and reported that the shells were flying in the opposite direction and that there was nothing to be afraid of. We stayed on stage and continued the action. There was also an audience left in the hall, who also did not know which way to run, and therefore decided to sit still.”

The majority of the population of the capital, not to mention the population of the country, did not understand at all what it was, who, for what purpose and for how long it took to come to power. At first, the identification of the new regime was made difficult by the verbal camouflage it actively used. In words, one Provisional Government was replaced by another, equally unstable.

“To form, to govern the country, until the convening of the Constituent Assembly, a Provisional Workers’ and Peasants’ Government, which will be called the Council of People’s Commissars,” read the decree of the Second All-Russian Congress of Soviets of Workers’, Soldiers’ and Peasants’ Deputies. Soon, of course, the masks were dropped, and the essence of the times that had come reached even the most dull. But it was already too late.