"It happened so unexpectedly," he related, "they did not even give us time to take a few things along. It was a windy, cold day, in October, 191 8. I was crossing the Nevsky on my way home from work, when all at once I realized that the whole district was surrounded by the military and Tchekists. Every one was detained. Those who could not produce a Com- munist membership card or a document proving them- selves Soviet employees were arrested. The women also, though they were released in the morning. Un- fortunately I had left my portfolio at my office, with all my papers in it. They would not listen to ex- planations or give me a chance to communicate with FIRST DAYS IN KHARKOV 171 any one. Within forty-eight hours, all the men were transported to Vologda. My family — my dear wife and three children — remained in complete ignorance of my fate." G paused. "Shall we have some tea?" he asked, trying to hide his emotion.
As he continued, I learned that together with several hundred other men, almost all alleged bourgeois, G was kept in the Vologda prison for several weeks, being treated as dangerous criminals and finally ordered to the front. There they were divided into working parties of ten, on the principle of collective responsibility: should one member of the party escape, the other nine would forfeit their lives.
The prisoners had to dig trenches, build barracks for the soldiers, and lay roads. Often they were forced to expose themselves to the fire of the English, to save machine guns deserted by the Red Army during the fight. They could be kept, according to Soviet decree, only three months at the front, yet they were forced to remain till the end of the campaign. Exposed to danger, cold, and hunger, without warm clothing in the raw winter of the North, the ranks of the men thinned daily, to be filled by new parties of forced labor collected in a similar manner.
After a few months G fell ill. By the aid of a military surgeon, a drafted medical student whom he had known before, he succeeded in being returned home. But when he reached Petrograd, he failed to locate his family. All the bourgeois tenants of his house had been ejected, to make place for workers; he could find no trace of his wife and children. Laid low by fever acquired on the front, G was sent to a hospital. The physicians held out little hope of recovery, but the determination to find his family re- kindled the dying embers of life, and after four weeks G- left his sick bed.
He had just started his search again when he re- THE BOLSHEVIK MYTH ceived an order mobilizing him, as an engineer, to a machine factory on the Ural. His efforts to secure delay proved fruitless. Friends promised to continue looking for his loved ones, and he departed for the East. There he applied himself conscientiously to the work, making the necessary repairs, so that the factory could presently begin operations. After a while he asked permission to return home, but he was informed that he would go as a prisoner, the political commissar having denounced him for "unfriendly dis- position" toward the Bolsheviki. G was arrested and sent to Moscow. When he reached the capital, he found a charge of sabotage against him. He suc- ceeded in proving the falsity of the accusation, and after four months of imprisonment he was released. But the experience so affected him that he suffered two successive attacks of "returning" typhus, from which he emerged entirely unfit for work. He secured per- mission to visit his relatives in Kharkov where he hoped to recuperate. There, to his great joy, quite unex- pectedly, he found his family. They had long thought him dead, their inquiries and numerous letters having remained unanswered. Reunited with his wife and children, G remained in the city, having received a position in a local institution. He finds life in Khar- kov much more bearable, though the Communist cam- paign against the intellectuals constantly rouses the people against them.
"The Bolsheviki have turned the intelligentsia into a class of hunted animals," G said. "We are looked upon as even worse than the bourgeoisie. As a matter of fact, we are much worse off than the latter, for they usually have 'connections' in influential places, and most of them still possess some of the wealth they had hidden. They can speculate; yes, even grow rich, while we of the professional class have nothing. We are doomed to slow starvation."
FIRST DAYS IN KHARKOV i73 Snatches of song and music reached us from across the street, coming apparently from the house opposite, its windows flooded with light. "One of the Tcheka commissars," my host answered my questioning look. "By the way, a curious incident happened to me," he continued, smiling sadly. "The other day I met that Tchekist. Something about him attracted my atten- tion — a peculiar sense of the familiar that I could not account for. Suddenly it dawned on me — that new dark-brown suit he wore, why, it was mine! They took it from me in the last house raid, two weeks ago. 'For the proletariat,' they said."
CHAPTER XXIII IN SOVIET INSTITUTIONS Petrovsky, Chairman of the All-Ukrainian Cen- tral Executive Committee, the supreme government body of the South, sat at his desk busy over a pile of documents. A middle-aged man of medium stature, his typical Ukrainian face is framed in a black beard, lit up by intelligent eyes and a winning smile. A peas- ant-Communist appointed by Moscow to high office, he has remained democratic and simple in manner.
Learning the mission of our Expedition, Petrovsky evinced the greatest interest. "I am heartily in sym- pathy with it," he said; "it's splendid, this idea of col- lecting the material of our great Revolution for the information of the present and future generations. I'll help you all I can. Here, in the Ukraina, you will find a wealth of documents, covering all the political changes we have had since 19 17. Of course," he con- tinued, "we have not reached the well-organized and ordered condition of Russia. The development of our country has been quite different, and since 19 18 we have been living in constant turmoil. It's only two months ago that we have driven the Poles out of Kiev — but we have driven them out for good," he laughed heartily.
"Yes, we drove them out for good," he repeated after a while. "But we must do more; we must teach the cursed Poles a lesson — the Polish pant (masters), I mean," he corrected himself. "Our good Red Army is almost at the gates of Warsaw now. The Polish proletariat are ready to throw off the yoke of their oppressors; they are only waiting for us to give them a helping hand. We expect the Revolution to break 174 IN SOVIET INSTITUTIONS 175 out tHere any day," he concluded in a confidential way, "and then Soviet Poland will combine federatively with Soviet Russia, as Ukraina has done."
"Don't you think such an aggressive policy may pro- duce a harmful effect?" I asked. "Threatened in- vasion may serve to arouse patriotic ardor."
"Pooh-pooh 1" the Chairman laughed. "You evi- dently don't know the revolutionary temper of the Polish workers. The whole country is on fire. The Red Army will be received 'with bread and salt,' as our saying is — be given a hearty welcome."
The conversation turned to the situation in the South. The work of organizing Soviet conditions, Petrovsky said, is progressing very satisfactorily in the districts evacuated by the Poles. As to the eco- nomic situation, the Ukraina used to be the great bread- giver of Russia, but the farmers have suffered much from confiscation and robbery by the White forces. However, the peasants have learned that only under the Communists they are secure in the enjoyment of their land. It is true, many of them are kulaki; that is, rich farmers who resent sharing their surplus with the Red Army and the workers. They and the numer- ous counter-revolutionary bands make the work of the Soviet Government very difficult. Makhno, in particu- lar, is a source of much trouble. But the Greens and other bandits are being gradually liquidated, and be- fore long Makhno also will be eliminated. The Gov- ernment has decreed merciless war against these Soviet enemies, and the peasantry is aiding in its efforts."
"You must have surely heard in Russia about Makhno," Petrovsky remarked, giving me a searching look. "Many legends have grown around his name, and to some he appears almost a heroic figure. But here in the Ukraina you will learn the truth about him. Just a robber ataman, that's all he is. Under the mask of Anarchism he conducts raids upon villages THE BOLSHEVIK MYTH and towns, destroys railroad communications, and takes a fiendish delight in murdering commissars and Communists. But before long we shall terminate his activities."
Girl clerks kept coming in, bringing documents, and answering telephone calls. Most of them were bare- foot, while some wore new, high-heeled shoes without hosiery. From time to time the Chairman interrupted the conversation to glance at the papers, putting his signature to some and referring others to the secretary. But he seemed eager to continue our talk, dwelling on the difficult problems presented by the Ukraina, the steps taken to assure greater production of coal, the reorganization of the railways, and the clearing of the labor unions of anti-Soviet influences.
He spoke unaffectedly, in the language of the work- ingman whose native intelligence has been sharpened by experience in the school of life. His conception of Communism is a simple matter of a strong government and determination to execute its will. It is not a ques- tion of experimentation or idealistic possibilities. His picture of a Bolshevik society has no shadows. A powerful central authority, consistently carrying out its policies, would solve all problems, he believes. Oppo- sition must be eliminated; disturbing elements and inciters of the peasantry against the Soviet regime, such as Makhno, crushed. At the same time the work of the polit-prosvet (political education) should be broad- ened; the youth, especially, must be trained to regard the Bolsheviki as the revolutionary advance guard of humanity. On the whole, Communism is a problem of right bookkeeping, as Lenin had truly said; of taking an invoice of the country's wealth, actual and potential, and arranging for its equalized distribution.
The subject of peasant dissatisfaction kept returning in our conversation. The povstantsi (armed rebel peasantry), Petrovsky admitted, had played a vital IN SOVIET INSTITUTIONS 177 part in the Revolution. They repeatedly saved the Ukraina, and even Russia, at most critical moments. By guerrilla warfare they disorganized and demoral- ized the Austro-German forces, and prevented their marching on Moscow and suppressing the Soviet regime. They defeated the Interventionist attack in the South, by resisting and routing the French and Ital- ian divisions that were landed by the Allies in Odessa with the intention of supporting the nationalistic Direc- torium in Kiev. They fought Denikin and other White generals, and were largely instrumental in making the victories of the Red Army possible. But some povstantsi elements have now joined the Green and other bands operating against the Communists. They also comprise the greater part of the Makhno forces, possessing even machine guns and artillery. Makhno is particularly dangerous. At one time he had served in the Red Army; but he mutinied, opening the front to Denikin, for which treachery he was outlawed by Trot- sky. Since then Makhno has been fighting against the Bolsheviki and helping the enemies of the Revolution.
From the adjoining office, occupied by Petrovsky's secretary, loud talking and a woman's hysterical voice kept disturbing our conversation. "What is going on there, I wonder," the Chairman exclaimed at last, step- ping to the door. As he opened it, a young peasant woman rushed toward him, throwing herself at his feet.
"Save us, Little Father I" she cried. "Have mercy I" Petrovsky helped her up. "What is the matter?" he asked kindly.
Amid sobs she related that her husband, home on furlough from the Army, had gone to Kharkov to visit his sick mother. There he was arrested in a street raid as a labor deserter. He could not prove his iden- tity, because he had been robbed on his way to the city; all his documents and money were gone. He sent i 7 8 THE BOLSHEVIK MYTH word to her about his misfortune; but by the time she reached the city she learned that her husband had been taken away with a party of other prisoners. Since then she failed to find out anything more about him. "Oh, Little Father, they've sure shot him," she wailed, "and he a Red Army man who fought Denikin."
Petrovsky sought to calm the distracted woman. "Nothing will happen to your husband," he assured her, "if he can prove himself a soldier."
"But they've already taken him away somewhere," she moaned, "and they shoot deserters. Oh, good Lord, have mercy on me!"
The Chairman questioned the woman, and then, ap- parently convinced of the truth of her story, he ordered the secretary to supply her with a "paper" to aid in her search. She grew quieter, and then impulsively kissed Petrovsky's hand, calling upon the saints to "bless the kind commissar."
At labor union headquarters I found a flow of hu- manity surging through the corridors. Men, women, and children crowded the offices and filled the hallways with shouting and tobacco smoke. A bedraggled as- sembly it was — poorly nourished and clad; calico ker- chiefs worn by the women, the men in thick-soled wooden lapti, the children mostly barefoot. For hours they stood in line, discussing their troubles. Their wages, they complained, though continuously increased, do not keep step with the rising price of food. A week's labor is not enough to purchase two pounds of bread. Moreover, three months' pay is due them: the government has failed to supply enough money. The Soviet distributing centers are short of provisions; one has to look out for himself, or starve. Some have come to ask for a ten days' release from work and permission to visit their folks in the country. There they would get a few pounds of flour or a sack of po- IN SOVIET INSTITUTIONS 179 tatoes to tide the family over for a little while. But it is difficult to secure such a privilege: the new decrees bind the worker to the factory, as in the days of old the peasants were chained to the soil. Yet the village Others have come to enlist the help of their labor organization in locating lost brothers, fathers, hus- bands, suddenly disappeared — no doubt taken in the frequent raids as military or labor deserters. They had vainly sought information at the various bureaus; maybe the union will help.
After long waiting I gained admission to the Secre- tary of the Soviet of Labor Unions. He proved to be a young man not over twenty-three, with quick, intelli- gent eyes and nervous manner. The Chairman had been called away to a special conference, the Secretary informed me, but he would aid our mission as far as possible. He doubted, however, that we would find much valuable material in the city. Most of it had been neglected or destroyed — there had been no time to think of such matters in the intense revolutionary days Kharkov had passed through. But whatever records could be found, he would order them turned over to me. Better yet, he would supply me with a circular letter to the secretaries of the local unions, and I could personally select the material I needed, leaving copies of the same in the archives.
The Secretary himself could give me little informa- tion about labor conditions in the city and province, as he had only recently assumed charge of his office. "I am not a local man," he said; "I was sent from Moscow only a few weeks ago. You see, Comrade," he ex- plained, evidently assuming my membership in the Com- munist Party, "it became necessary to liquidate the whole management of the Soviet and of most of the unions. At their heads were Mensheviki. They con- ducted the organization on the principle of alleged prois their only hope.
i8o THE BOLSHEVIK MYTH tection of the workers' interests. Protection against whom?" he raged. "You understand how counter- revolutionary such a conception is 1 Just a Menshevik cloak to further their opposition to us. Under capital- ism, the union is destructive of bourgeois interests; but with us, it is constructive. The labor bodies must work hand in hand with the government; in fact, they are the actual government, or one of its vital parts. They must serve as schools of Communism and at the same time carry out in industry the will of the proletariat as expressed by the Soviet Government. This is our policy, and we shall eliminate every opposition."
A dark, heavy-set man of medium stature walked quickly into the office, casting a questioning look at me. "A comrade from the center," the Secretary introduced me, "sent to collect data on the Revolution. This is our predsedatel" he explained.
The Chairman of the Labor Soviet shook hands with me hastily: "You will excuse me," he said, "we are just swamped with work. I had to leave the session of the wage commission before it closed, because I have been phoned to attend an important conference of our Party Committee. The Mensheviki have de- clared a hunger strike in prison, and we are to take action on the matter."
As we stepped out of the office, the Chairman was beset by a clamoring crowd. "Dear tovarishtch, just a minute please," an old worker pleaded; "my brother is down with typhus, and I can't get any medicine for him."
"When will we be paid? Three months is due us," another urged.
"Go to your own union," the predsedatel advised him.
"But I've just come from there."
"I haven't time, tovarishtch, I haven't time now," IN SOVIET INSTITUTIONS 181 the chairman kept repeating to the right and left, gently forcing his way through the crowd.
"Oh, Little Father," a woman screamed, grabbing him by the arm. It was the young peasant I had met in Petrovsky's office. "Has my husband been shot?"
The Chairman looked bewildered. "Who is your husband?" he demanded.
"A Red Army man, tovartshtch. Taken in a street raid for a labor deserter."
"A deserter! That's bad." Reaching the street, and waving his hand to me, the predsedatel jumped into his waiting automobile, and was driven away.
CHAPTER XXIV YOSSIF THE EMIGRANT A short, slender man of thirty, with lustrous dark eyes set wide apart, and a face of peculiar sadness. The expression of his eyes still haunts me: now mourn- ful, now irate, they reflect all the tragedy of his Jewish descent. His smile speaks the kindliness of a heart that has suffered and learned to understand. The thought kept running through my mind, as he was re- lating his experiences in the Revolution, that it was his patient, winsome smile which had conquered the bru- tality of his persecutors.
I had known him in America, him and his friend Lea, a sweet-faced girl of unusual self-control and de- termination. Both had for years been active in the radical movement in the United States, but the call of the Revolution brought them back to their native land in the hope of helping in the great task of liberation. They worked with the Bolsheviki against Kerensky and the Provisional Government, and cooperated with them in the stormy October days, which "gave so much promise of a rainbow," as the Emigrant remarked sor- rowfully. But soon the Communists began to suppress the other revolutionary parties, and Yossif went with Lea to the Ukraina, where they aided in organizing the Southern Confederation of Anarchist Groups under the name of the Nabat (Alarm).
As the "Emigrant," his pen name in the "Nabat," the organ of the Confederation, Yossif is widely known in the South and is much loved for his idealism and sunny disposition. Energetic and active, he is tireless in his labors among the Ukrainian peasantry, and every- 182 YOSSIF THE EMIGRANT 183 where he is the soul and inspiration of proletarian circles.
I have repeatedly visited him and his friends in the Anarchist bookstore Volnoye Bratstvo (Free Brother- hood). They have witnessed the numerous political changes in the Ukraina, have suffered imprisonment by the Whites, and have been maltreated by Denikin soldiers. "We are hounded no less by the Bolshe- viki," the Emigrant said; "we never know what they will do to us. One day they arrest us, and close our club and bookstore; at other times they leave us alone. We never feel safe; they keep us under constant sur- veillance. In this they have a great advantage over the Whites; under the latter we could work under- ground, but the Communists know almost everyone of us personally, for we always stood shoulder to shoulder with them against counter-revolution."
The Emigrant, whom I had formerly known as a most peace-loving man, surprised me by his militant en- thusiasm regarding Makhno, whom he familiarly calls Nestor. He spent much time with the latter, and he regards him as a thorough Anarchist, who is fighting reaction from the Left as well as from the Right. Yossif was active in Makhno's camp as educator and teacher; he shared the daily life of the povstantsi, and accompanied them as a non-combatant on their cam- paigns. He is deeply convinced that the Bolsheviki have betrayed the people. "As long as they were revo- lutionary we cooperated with them," he said; "the fact is, we Anarchists did some of the most responsible and dangerous work all through the Revolution. In Kron- stadt, on the Black Sea, in the Ural and Siberia, every- where we gave a good account of ourselves. But as soon as the Communists gained power, they began eliminating all the other revolutionary elements, and now we are entirely outlawed. Yes, the Bolsheviki, 1 84 THE BOLSHEVIK MYTH those arch-revolutionists, have outlawed us," he re- peated bitterly.
"Could not some way of reapproachment be found?" I suggested, referring to my intention of broaching the matter to Rakovsky, the Lenin of theUkraina.
"No, it's too late," Yossif replied positively. "We've tried it repeatedly, but every time the Bolshe- viki broke their promises and exploited our agreements only to demoralize our ranks. You must understand that the Communist Party has now become a full- fledged government, seeking to impose its rule upon the people and doing it by the most drastic methods. There is no more hope of turning the Bolsheviki into revolutionary channels. Today they are the worst enemies of the Revolution, far more dangerous than the Denikins and Wrangels, whom the peasantry know as such. The. only hope of Russia now is in the forcible overthrow of the Communists by a new uprising of the people."
"I see no evidence of such a possibility," I objected.
"The whole peasantry of the South is bitterly op- posed to them," Yossif replied, "but, of course, we must turn their blind hatred into conscious rebellion. In this regard I consider Makhno's povstantsi move- ment as a most promising beginning of a great popular upheaval against the new tyranny."
"I have heard many conflicting stories about Makhno," I remarked. "He is painted either as a devil or as a saint."
Yossif smiled. "Ever since I learned that you are in Russia," he said earnestly, "I have been hoping you would come here." In a lowered voice he added: "The best way to find out the truth about Makhno would be to investigate for yourself."
I looked at him questioningly. We were alone in the bookstore, save for a young woman who was busying herself at the shelves. Yossif s eyes wandered to the YOSSIF THE EMIGRANT 185 street, and his look rested on two men conversing on the sidewalk. "Tcheka," he declared laconically, "always sneaking around here."
"I have something to propose to you," he continued, "but we must find a safer place. Tomorrow evening I shall have several comrades meet you. Come to the datcha he- named a summer house occupied by a friend, "but be careful you are not followed."
At the datcha, situated in a park in the environs of the city, I found a number of Yossif s friends. They felt safe in that retreat, they averred; but the hunted look did not leave them, and they spoke in lowered voices. Someone remarked that the occasion reminded him of his university days, in the time of Nicholas II, when the students used to gather in the woods to dis- cuss forbidden political questions. "Things have not changed in that respect," he added sadly.
"Incomparably worse in every regard," a dark- featured Ukrainian remarked emphatically.
"Don't take him literally," smiled Yossif, "he is our inveteratelpessimist."
"I do mean it literally," the Ukrainian persisted. "There isn't enough left of the Revolution to make a figleaf for Bolshevik nakedness. Russia has never be- fore lived under such absolute despotism. Socialism, Communism, indeed! Never had we less liberty and equality than today. We have merely exchanged Nich- olas for Ilyitch."
"You see only the forms," put in a young man in- troduced as the Poet; "but there is an essence in the present Russia that escapes you. There is a spiritual revolution which is the symbol and the germ of a new Kultur. For every Kultur," he continued, "is an organic whole of manifold realization; it is the know- ing of something in connection with something else. In other words, consciousness. The highest expression of such Kultur is man's consciousness of self, as a spiritual i86 THE BOLSHEVIK MYTH being, and in Russia today this Kultur is being born."
"I can't follow your mysticism," the Pessimist re- torted. "Where do you see this resurrection?"
"It is not a resurrection; it is a new birth," the Poet replied thoughtfully. "Russia is not made up of revo- lutionists and counter-revolutionists only. There are others, in all walks of life, and they are sick of all political dogmas. There are millions of conscious- nesses that are painfully struggling toward new criteria of reality. In their souls they have lived through the tremendous collision of life and death; they have died and come to life again. They have attained to new values. In them is the coming dawn of the new Rus- sian Kultur."
"Ah, the Revolution is dead," remarked a short, smooth-shaven man of middle age, in a Red Army uni- form. "When I think of the October days and the mighty enthusiasm which swept the country, I realize to what depths we have sunk. Then was liberty, in- deed, and brotherhood. Why, the joy of the people was such, strangers kissed each other on the highways. And even later, when I fought against the Czecho- slovaks on the Ural, the Army was inspired. Each felt himself a free man defending the Revolution that was his. But when we returned from the front, we found the Bolsheviki proclaimed themselves dictators over us, in the name of their Party. It's dead, our Revolution," he concluded, with a deep sigh.
"You are wrong, my friend," Yossif protested. "The Bolsheviki have indeed retarded the progress of the Revolution and they are trying to destroy it alto- gether, to secure their political power. But the spirit of the Revolution lives, in spite of them. March, 19 17, was only the revolutionary honeymoon, the lisping of lovers. It was clean and pure, but it was inarticu- late, impotent. The real passion was yet to come. October sprang from the womb of Russia itself. True, YOSSIF THE EMIGRANT 187 the Bolsheviki have turned Jesuits, but the Revolution has accomplished much — it has destroyed capitalism and undermined the principles of private ownership. In its concrete expression today Bolshevism is a system of the most ruthless despotism. It has organized a socialistic slavery. Yet, notwithstanding, I declare that the Russian Revolution lives. For the leaders and the present forms of Bolshevism are a temporary ele- ment. They are a morbid spasm in the general process. The paroxysm will pass; the healthy revolutionary essence will remain. Everything that is good and valuable in human history was always born and de- veloped in the atmosphere of evil and corruption, mixing and interweaving with it. That is the fate of every struggle for liberty. It also applies to Russia today, and it is our mission to give aid and strength to the fine and the true, the permanent, in that struggle."
"I suppose that's why you are so partial to Makhno," put in the Red Army man.
"Makhno represents the real spirit of October," Yossif replied with warmth. "In the revolutionary povstantsi, whom he leads, is the sole hope of the country. The Ukrainian peasant is an instinctive An- archist, and his experience has taught him that all gov- ernments are essentially alike — taking everything from him and giving nothing in return. He wants to be rid of them; to be left alone to arrange his own life and affairs. He will fight the new tyranny."
"They are kulaki with petty bourgeois ideas of prop- erty," retorted the Pessimist.
"There is such an element," Yossif admitted, "but the great majority are not of that type. As to the Makhno movement, it offers the greatest field for propaganda. Nestor, himself an Anarchist, affords us the fullest opportunity to work in his army, even to the extent of supplying us with printed material and ma- chinery for the publication of our newspapers and THE BOLSHEVIK MYTH leaflets. The territory occupied by Makhno is the only place where liberty of speech and press prevails."
"But not for Communists," retorted the soldier.
"Makhno justly considers the Communists as much counter-revolutionary as the Whites," replied Yossif. "But for the revolutionists — for Anarchists, Maxi- malists, and Left Social Revolutionists — there is full liberty of action in the povstantsi districts."
Makhno may call himself an Anarchist," spoke up ' M, an Individualist Anarchist, "but I disagree entirely with Yossif about the significance of his move- ment. I consider his 'army' merely an enlarged band of rebel peasants without revolutionary purpose or consciousness."
"They have been guilty of brutality and pogroms," added the Pessimist.
"There have been excesses," Yossif replied, "just as they happen in every army, the Communist not ex- cepted. But Nestor is merciless toward those guilty of Jew-baiting. Most of you have read his numerous proclamations against pogroms, and you know how severely he punishes such things. I remember, for in- stance, the incident at Verkhny Takmar. It was char- acteristic. It happened about a year ago, on the 4th or 5th of May, 19 19. Makhno, accompanied by several members of his military staff, was on his way from the front to Gulyai-Pole, his headquarters, for a confer- ence with the special Soviet emissaries sent from Kharkov. At the station of Verkhny Takmar Nestor noticed a large poster reading: 'Kill the Jews I Save Russia I Long live Makhno I' Nestor sent for the station master. 'Who put up that poster?' he de- manded. 'I did,' replied the official, a peasant who had been in fights against Denikin. Without another word Makhno shot him. That's the way Nestor treats Jew baiters," Yossif concluded YOSSIF THE EMIGRANT 189 "I have heard many stories of atrocities and pogroms committed by Makhno units," I remarked.
"They are lies willfully spread by the Bolsheviki," Yossif asserted. "They hate Nestor worse than they do Wrangel. Trotsky once said that it were better the Ukraina were taken by Denikin than to allow Makhno to continue there. With reason: for the sav- age rule of the Tsarist generals would soon turn the peasantry against them and thus enable the Bolsheviki to defeat them, while the spread of M akhnovstchina, as the Makhno movement is known, with its Anarchist ideas threatens the whole Bolshevik system. The pogroms ascribed to Makhno upon investigation always prove to have been committed by the Greens or other bandits. The fact is, Makhno and his staff keep up a continuous agitation against religious and nationalistic superstitions and prejudices."
Though radically differing concerning the character and significance of the M akhnovstchina, those present agreed that Nestor himself is a unique figure and one of the most outstanding personalities on the revolution- ary horizon. To his admirer Yossif, however, he typifies the spirit of Revolution as it expresses itself in the feeling, thought, and life of the rebel peasantry of the Ukraina.
CHAPTER XXV NESTOR MAKHNO Greatly interested in the personality and activities of Makhno, I induced Yossif to sketch his story in its essential features.