10.070 – The Kornilov Affair

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Hello, and welcome to Revolutions.

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Episode 10.70: the Kornilov Affair

The July days were a very close call for the provisional government and for the Soviet. The armed demonstration in Petrograd had been aiming at ending the unsustainable dynamic of dual power by overthrowing the government and vesting all power in the Soviet. What better way to solve the problem of dual power than eliminating one of the two powers. But when the moment of truth came on the evening of July 4th, 1917, however, the leaders of the Soviet refuse to bow to these demands. And though both the Soviet and the provisional government weathered this particular storm, the prestige of both was badly damaged. The provisional government was still intact, but remain just as unpopular and ineffectual as ever. The Soviet, until this moment the universal darling of the streets, now generated growing contempt for its refusal to become the avatar the streets demanded. Forces on both the left and the right rightly saw a golden opportunity to take advantage of the staggering stumbles of a center that could not hold.

But though we ultimately know where this is all headed, in July of 1917 the staggering and stumbling center tried to hold. But to hold, it would need new leadership. The prime minister, Prince Lvov, who had done everything in his power since February to unify a coalition of liberals and socialists admitted he could not do the job. Exhausted and demoralized, he admitted defeat, and resigned as prime minister on July the seventh. And when he resigned, he retired from public life entirely, retiring to a monastery where he hoped he would be left alone until he died in peace. There was only one man who had the influence, prestige, and energy necessary to succeed him, and that was Alexander Kerensky. Without setting down his portfolio as minister of the army and navy Kerensky became prime minister of Russia. It was quite the ascent to power for the son of state bureaucrats who had made a name for himself as a radical lawyer and journalist, and who had previously spent time in prison for his unsavory political connections. That Alexander Kerensky was now considered the only man who could lead Russia was, if nothing else, proof that a political revolution had in fact occurred.

In the months since February, Kerensky appears to have undergone something of a transformation. Little by little, event by event, he replaced his radical idealism with a kind of egotistical resolve. From a belief that a free and democratic Russia was sure to flourish after the fall of Bloody Nicholas to the belief that he alone could save the Russians from themselves. In the wake of the April crisis, he was already lamenting he had not died on the barricades back in February, and further lamenting the fact that the Russian people could probably not be led without whips and chains. But rather than becoming so disillusioned that he quit politics and retired to a monastery like Lvov, Kerensky convinced himself that he was the one who was going to save Russia and save the revolution. He had begun his career believing that he was something of a Russian Mirabeau. Now, he believed he was destined to be a Russian Napoleon Bonaparte, rescuing it from military defeat and political chaos. After becoming prime minister in the first week of July, 1917, Kerensky let all the power he now wielded go straight to his head. Almost immediately, he moved into the Winter Palace, ancient residents of the tsars. He set up his offices behind a giant desk of Tsar Alexander the Third, and slept in the bed of the Romanovs. He surrounded himself in imperial trappings, and even ordered the flag raised and lowered from the Winter Palace as he came and went, copying the old system of alerting Petrograd when the tsars were physically in residence. Fully believing now that he alone could unify and save the revolution, and sensing that the Soviet’s hesitation to seize power in the July days was proof that the moral authority they held over Russian politics, that they were actually the real power in Russian politics, was a spell that was on the verge of being broken, Kerensky ordered them to vacate the Tauride Palace and find a new home. The pretext for this move was that the government was planning on reconvening the Duma, and the Soviet had only been allowed to meet in the Tauride Palace because the Duma was not in session. The order itself was a clear signal. Kerensky was going to try to alpha dog the Soviet into a place of submissiveness. That they complied with the order and moved their assemblies, meetings, and offices to the Smolny Institute, a former finishing school for the nobility, further indicated that after the July Days, it was possible to turn the tables on the Soviet. They had been pushing the government around since February, and having failed to seize power when it was offered to them, Kerensky and his government realized they could start pushing the Soviet around for a change.

There was one small hangup, to Kerensky’s vision of himself as a Russian Napoleon Bonaparte: he was a lawyer and a journalist, not a soldier. In his role as minister of war he had taken to wearing military uniforms, but that was mere theatricality. But if he was envisioning a Bonapartist model for post-revolutionary Russia, that was obviously going to require the military as a major pillar of support. Kerensky needed a military figure who was popular with the troops, popular with the public generally, but also willing to do what might be necessary to impose order on a now perpetually chaotic homefront. Kerensky believed he found his man in General Lavr Kornilov.

Kornilov was a 47 year old career army officer. He had been born on the periphery of the empire among the Siberian Cossacks. His father was a peasant who had served as a soldier; his mother was a housekeeper. Kornilov himself served all over the empire, including stints in central Asia and the far east. In the Russo Japanese War he had risen through the ranks on a combination of courage and talent. When World War I broke out he commanded the division on the southwestern front and was promoted to major general in 1915. But shortly thereafter, he was captured by the Austrians after refusing an order from General Brusilov to retreat. Already popular in the press and amongst his troops for a kind of salt of the earth heroism, Kornilov won further fame by escaping Austrian confinement in 1916 and successfully making it back to Russia. The leaders of the February Revolution had considered Kornilov politically reliable enough he was given control of the Petrograd military district in March 1917, but then he became something of an uncomfortable liability in the midst of the April Crisis. Kornilov demanded full authority to use the military to indiscriminately restore order. When the provisional government refused, he requested to be transferred back to the front, a request that was quickly granted. Returning to his old stomping grounds on the southwestern front, Kornilov led an initially successful wing of the June Offensive, which was then stalled and forced to retreat, much to his angry disgust.

 In Kornilov’s estimation, the failure of the offensive was obviously caused by the infamous Order Number One. Order Number One had disastrously replaced military discipline with disobedient committees of soldiers who could not be ordered to do anything they didn’t want to do, nor punished for their refusal to obey. Kerensky, who had very recently believed the democratization of the army would propel it to ultimate victory, now agreed with the assessment of the senior staff that Order Number One needed to be tossed out if Russia was going to with stand the German offensive now rolling them backwards. This was going to be dicey politically, and somebody like Kornilov seemed to be the perfect vehicle for it. He was popular with the rank and file, as well as enjoying a positive reputation in the press as a national war hero. Nobody took him to be an aristocratic reactionary of the old school, and so his clear determination to restore order and discipline in the ranks would be taken for what it was: a determination to restore order and discipline in the ranks and nothing more.

So in mid-July, Kerensky fire General Brusilov, who had been recently elevated to the post of commander in chief, effectively dumping on him, the failure of the June Offensive, and then he turned around and offered the commander and chief spot to Kornilov. But Kornilov did not accept straight away. He had conditions, which he transmitted to Kerensky on July 19th. He wanted a completely free hand to run the military as he saw fit. The most controversial specific demand was the restoration of the right to execute soldiers for mutiny and desertion, including the garrisons in the rear, who were presently protected from such punishment by Order Number One and the soldier’s declaration of rights. His most controversial general demand was a statement that he would consider himself responsible only to the nation and his conscience.

Now these were somewhat provocative demands — after all, there are other authorities he needed to consider himself responsible to — but after some careful clarifications brokered by deputy minister of War, a guy named Boris Savinkov, a former member of the SR combat organization turned militant nationalist, the two sides came to an agreement. On July 24th, General Kornilov became commander in chief of the Russian army. Kornilov’s elevation was cheered by everyone to Alexander Kerensky’s right. The General’s demand for the right to impose discipline and authority were leaked to the press and he was hailed as the savior of Russia. There were those, after all, who had supported the February Revolution because of the gross incompetence of Nicholas and Alexandra. In the five months since their abdication — and by the way, it’s only been five months — things only went from bad to worse. But while Kornilov absolutely believed Russia probably needed a full-blown military dictatorship to see it through the present crisis, we should be clear again, that he was not an outright political reactionary. He in fact said, and I’m quoting here, “I am not a counter revolutionary. I despise the old regime, which badly mistreated my family. There is no return to the past and there cannot be any. But we need an authority that can truly save Russia, which will make it possible honorably to end the war, and lead her to the constituent assembly.”

So far as I can tell, this is what Kornilov was always trying to do. He was thinking the thing that generals sometimes think, which is that a period of temporary military rule might be required to allow space for a democratic government to form. Whether he had any deeper thoughts on the implication of unilaterally imposing military role on Russia we do not know, but General Alexeyev once commented about Kornilov that he had “a lion’s heart and a sheep’s brain.”

For the time being however, General Kornilov publicly acknowledged the proper authority of the provisional government now reorganized under Prime Minister Kerensky. And this was the third government since the February Revolution, which again, it’s only been five months. But privately, he neither like nor trusted the ministers. When he met with them for the first time on August third, Kerensky warned him not to be too frank or open about anything, because some of the ministers were happy to make strategic leaks to the press — in particular, this side eye was directed at Minister of Agriculture Viktor Chernov. Kornilov left this meeting and returned to military headquarters convinced the provisional government as presently constituted was hardly worthy of leading Russia. He had his doubts about Kerensky too, but concluded even in private that Kerensky was at least a sincere patriot doing his best to save Russia.

Kerensky, meanwhile, was becoming very concerned with the response from the right to the elevation of Kornilov. He was detecting an awful lot of outright open salivating for Kornilov to ride in on a white horse and save Russia from the menace of the Bolsheviks who were obviously German agents trying to destroy the country. In a further meeting between Kerensky and Kornilov on August 10th, the general told his prime minister that what he really wanted and what he probably needed was something like the power General Ludendorff now enjoyed in Germany: supreme authority over all private and civilian affairs connected to the war. This would include railroad, communications, and industry. Kerensky was incredibly non-committal about this, and started to worry that maybe he had promoted a man with his own dictatorial ambitions.

In an attempt to prevent a right-wing coup, and reforge something of the revolutionary consensus that had existed in February, Kerensky convened, what is dubbed the Moscow State Conference on August 12th. It brought together a whole array of people who had driven support for the February Revolution in the first place: industrialists, businessmen, military officers and conservative liberals who had made up the old progressive bloc., but also invited were moderate socialists, intellectuals, lawyers and journalists, leaders of the trade unions, and lower ranking officers. They had all stood together in February, and Kerensky hoped to bring them back together here in August.

But the state conference only proved that the unity of February was over. Meeting in the Bolshoi Theatre, the delegates divided themselves physically between left and right in the hall, which is to say that the left sat on the left, and the right sat on the right. Over the next several days worth of speeches, if the left liked what they heard and applauded, the right sat in stony silence. And if the right, like what they heard and applauded, the left sat in stony silence.

General Kornilov arrived in Moscow for the conference and was given a hero’s welcome at the station, flanked by red robed Turkmen bodyguards looking an awful lot like a personal Praetorian guard, flanking him wherever he went. Kornilov’s speech was simple, and honestly, pretty milk toast, but the right applauded him rapturously, feeding Kerensky’s perception that Kornilov was possibly the spear point of counter-revolution.

Kerensky’s closing address, in contrast, was a disaster. He had clearly lost his touch, and gave a rambling and at times nearly incoherent speech. One delegate, sympathetic to Kerensky, was forced to admit, “One could hear not only the agony of his power, but also of his personality.”

If the Moscow state conference was meant to reunify the center, it failed spectacularly. But this was not actually the death of Kerensky’s fortunes, nor the fortunes of the provisional government. It was not even the cause of a major breach between the prime minister and his commander in chief. And, in fact, as we are about to see, they were basically still on the same page.

Now, one thing that cannot get lost in all of this is the context of the war. The June Offensive had failed, and Russia’s armies were falling back in disarray. The Central Powers had paused to catch their breath for most of July, but in August, the Germans stood poised to launch an offensive into Latvia, putting Petrograd itself in danger of being captured. With this grave emergency looming out on the front, and the politics in the rear still a confused, fractured, and dangerous mess, both Kerensky and Kornilov moved towards the conclusion that martial law was going to have to be declared. The subtle distinction between them though, was that Kerensky believed that martial law would prevent a coup from the right and Kornilov believed it would prevent a coup from the left.

The Germans finally launched their expected offensive into Latvia on August 19th, after a temporarily stiff but ultimately failed resistance, the Russian armies retreated and the Latvian capital of Riga fell to the Germans, putting the Germans on a perilously direct line to Petrograd. The only good news was that the Russian army withdrew in good order, and was able to reestablish a defensive line preventing any further advances. For now.

The fall of Riga was the immediate context for the dramatic political events that are about to unfold, events which give us the title for today’s episode, the Kornilov affair. But in an era of drama, peril, danger, violence, and desperation, the Kornilov affair resembles nothing so much as an episode of a bad sitcom. Seriously. You know, those plot lines that hinge entirely on character saying lines of dialogue to each other that lead them to take away different understandings of something even though the misunderstanding between them only exists because the script demands it, and to even remotely normal people would realize immediately there was a misunderstanding and just resolve whatever the issue was? Well, that’s the Kornilov affair. It is not a political plot, it is a sit-com plot.

At the center of this sit-com plot is a guest star named Vladimir Lvov, no relation at all to Prince Lvov. This Lvov was a Moscow industrialist, Octobrist delegate to the pre-revolutionary Dumas, and someone who was heavily involved in the progressive bloc. Lvov was among those who believed discipline and order were now what Russia needed, and he decided to insert himself into the picture with the alleged goal of keeping Prime Minister Kerensky and Commander in Chief Kornilov on the same side. But, through his bungling, misrepresentations and miscommunications, he almost single-handedly drove them apart.

On August 22nd, Lvov went to meet Kerensky. He told the prime minister vaguely that he represented certain right-leaning groups ready to take drastic action to save the country. Kerensky was skeptical, but told Lvov basically, okay, go sound them out and report back to me. Kerensky later said he just did this because he wanted more information from Lvov, but Lvov left believing he was now like Kerensky’s emissary in a plot to stage a top-down military coup. Lvov then got on a train and headed to military headquarters to meet General Kornilov. Meanwhile, out at headquarters, Kerensky’s actual emissary, Deputy Minister of War Savinkov, was having his own meeting with the commander in chief, where the two agreed that Kornilov should take steps to neutralize ultra conservative plotters in his officer corp, but also to send the Third Cavalry Corps to Petrograd to act as protectors of the provisional government. Kornilov said he wanted direct military control of Petrograd, but Savinkov told him that was impossible politically. Kornilov acquiesced, and agreed to send the third cavalry Corps, and they would be put at Kerensky’s disposal in the increasingly likely event that the government had to declare martial law. There were rumors swirling the capital that the Bolsheviks were planning to stage another major demonstration on October 27th, which was the six month anniversary of the Petrograd garrison’s mutiny. Even if it wasn’t armed or violent, this demonstration might prove the perfect pretext for declaring martial law. The only hangup was that the Bolsheviks were absolutely not planning any demonstrations on October 27th, they were barely keeping their heads above water at this point. But, oh boy, are they about to come roaring back to life.

Now just as Savinkov was departing back to Petrograd on August 24th, Lvov showed up that same day at army headquarters and requested a meeting with Kornilov. Lvov claimed to be Kerensky’s agent, and Kornilov assumed that this was a follow-up to the discussions he had just had with Savinkov, and he never bothered to check with Kerensky whether Lvov was legit, which he very much was not. Lvov then floated three potential scenarios on how to administer martial law. The first option was Kerensky declares himself dictator, with Kornilov supporting him militarily. The second was forming a directory style government, essentially a small executive committee with seats for both Kerensky and Kornilov. Or then finally, the third option, was Kornilov being appointed dictator with Kerensky supporting him politically. Lvov asked the general which he preferred, and Kornilov said, well, if I had my choice, it’d be option three. The cleanest and easiest solution was for a general to run a military dictatorship. But he also said, this is just his preference and he’d support whichever. But whatever they decided to do, Kornilov said Kerensky and Savinkov should come out to army headquarters where they could all work out a new government safe from the mobs of Petrograd.

But as he was boarding the train back to the capital, Lvov apparently had a brief talk with one of Kornilov’s aides, who said in an off-hand way that it didn’t really matter which plan was put into place to start, because Kerensky would only be needed for 10 days, and then he could be dispensed with.

Now, my read on this though, is that the officer in question was far more of an intriguer than his boss, and he was speaking only for himself here, this is not something Kornilov was secretly planning. Lvov then returned to Petrograd and met with Kerensky on August 26th bearing incredible and not even remotely accurate news. He told Kerensky that Kornilov demanded full dictatorial authority, mis-characterizing completely what Kornilov had said that, the third option was merely his preference, and hardly a deal breaker. Kerensky was at first incredulous and didn’t believe it — this was quite an about turn for Kornilov. But then he seemed struck by two ideas simultaneously: first, maybe without Kerensky knowing it, Kornilov had entered into a battle of wills with him and was about to attempt to overthrow him in the provisional government and stage the very right-wing coup Kerensky himself feared; and second, that even if none of that was true, he now had a really great way to rehabilitate his standing with the left, to expose and destroy an alleged right-wing plot and emerge as the unrivaled defender of the revolution against agents of reaction. Now, I think up to this point, August 26th, 1917, Kerensky saw Kornilov as an ally working towards a shared goal. But from this point on, I do think it becomes clear Kerensky did everything in his power to set Kornilov up to take a fall.

After their meeting, Kerensky invited Lvov to come back to the Winter Palace at eight that evening to engage in a series of cables with Kornilov. When Lvov didn’t show up on time, Kerensky went ahead and initiated communications at 8:30. But remember, this is a sit-com plot, not a political plot. So what Kerensky does, and I am not making this up, is he simply pretended Lvov was in the room w and further pretended to be Lvov in the ensuing back and forth of messages. Kerensky opened by saying, do you want to proceed as you indicated to Lvov?

Kornilov, believing he was talking to both Kerensky and Lvov at the same time, and believing the three options were still on the table replied, yes, but we do need to come to a decision quickly. Kerensky then impersonated Lvov, and said, the prime minister wants to know if you want to do what you indicated to me privately you want to do.

Kornilov said yes, Kerensky and Savinkov should come to headquarters at once.

They then exchanged a few more lines before the communication line dropped. Kornilov walked away believing the Third Cavalry Corps would proceed to Petrograd, Kerensky and Savinkov would depart Petrograd, and within a few days they would collectively declare martial law from army headquarters. Kerensky walked away believing Kornilov was demanding he be made dictator, and demanding Kerensky come to army headquarters where he would be made hostage and then later possibly shot. Or, what is also just as likely, Kerensky kept this entire farce of a conversation just vague enough that he could now run off and claim that’s what Kornilov plan to do.

Kerensky immediately convened all his ministers and informed them of what had just transpired, in his own words. He told them Kornilov was preparing to stage a military coup d’etat and he had proof. Kerensky then told them the only way to see this through was for the government to resign and vest all power in Kerensky himself. After a great deal of heated discussion that went on overnight, the ministers ultimately agreed. At 4:00 AM on August 27th, they vested Kerensky with supreme executive authority, and then collectively resi Kerensky promptly sent a cable to military headquarters relieving Kornilov of his command effective immediately. He ordered another general to take over and place Kornilov in custody.

When Kornilov received this cable at about seven or eight o’clock in the morning, he understandably blew his stack. But he moved very quickly from believing Kerensky had out and out double crossed him and considered it far more likely that the rumor of another Bolshevik insurrection scheduled for August 27th had been true. That overnight something momentous had happened in Petrograd and Kerensky had probably been taken hostage by armed Bolsheviks who were now forcing him to issue orders under duress. So Kornilov ignored the cable, sent orders to the Third Cavalry Corps for them to advance on Petrograd as fast as possible, and then prepared, at least in his own mind, to rescue the provisional government from the clutches of what was surely another Bolshevik insurrection.

But of course there was no Bolshevik insurrection. There was nothing even close to a Bolshevik insurrection. The Kornilov affair is a farcical miscommunication full of unfounded assumptions all the way down. And the great historical irony is that by ignoring Kerensky and ordering the Third Cavalry Corps to proceed with all haste to Petrograd, Kornilov did more to single-handedly rehabilitate the Bolsheviks than anyone. After the July days, something like 800 Bolsheviks had been arrested, and it kind of looked like they were done for. Lenin even said, they’re going to shoot us. I mean, now is the time to do it.

But with many socialists, including Kerensky, increasingly worried about a right wing coup over the summer of 1917, instead of grinding the Bolsheviks to dust, they let their foot up. And though the leaders were still in custody, many party members had been released, and the backlash everyone had feared after the July Days turned out to not be the catastrophic crackdown they feared. In fact, just a few weeks later, here we are with word ripping through Petrograd that a right-wing coup was upon them. Kornilov has sent troops to overthrow the provisional government, the Soviet, and the revolution. Suddenly, the Bolsheviks went from potential threat to potential saviors. Because they were, if nothing else, the most heavily armed and militant defenders of the revolution in Petrograd.

Scrambling a defense, the Soviet called all the socialist parties and Petrograd together, and they hastily formed what was called the Committee for the Struggle Against the Counterrevolution. Bolshevik representatives were not only invited to participate in this committee but asked to take the lead. In addition to mobilizing their own armed cadres, the Bolsheviks demanded 40,000 workers be armed at once, significantly augmenting the ranks of what were called the Red Guards, militia units of workers under arms. The first Red Guard units had been formed back in March and April, but they now jumped in size, and more importantly for future events, they were being organized by the Bolsheviks, who almost overnight went from being considered armed activists causing trouble for everyone to being the most uncompromising and clear-eyed defenders of the revolution.

In the end, though, the Bolsheviks did not have to lead Petrograd in street fighting against Kornilov’s forces. railroad workers successfully tore up all the tracks leading into the capital, and the Third Cavalry division’s transports were temporarily halted in their tracks on August 29th. While they sat idle, representatives from Petrograd went out to meet and mingle and agitate among the troops. Party leaders, garrison soldiers, workers, deputies, all went out to implore them to please stop. There were no disturbances in Petrograd. The people were merely rising in defense of the provisional government, who you are posing a threat to. And this completed the farce of the Kornilov affair. Only a few of the cavalry men had any idea why they were even being ordered to Petrograd in the first place, and those who did have some idea believed they were the ones being sent to defend the provisional government. So they’re like standing around looking at each other with one side saying, I’ve come to protect the provisional government and the other side saying, no, I’ve come to protect the provisional government. The two sides engaged in discussions through the night, and by the morning of August 30th, the whole thing was over. Now fully briefed that the only emergency threat to the provisional government was the Third Cavalry Corps itself, the men now refused to move until they received more official clarification. And this loss of momentum alone effectively ended the threat.

The commander of the Third Cavalry Corps was escorted to meet with Kerensky. Now we have no account of their meeting, but it was probably a supreme dressing down from the prime minister, which the commander no doubt received with angry contem knowing as he did, and this is true, that Kerensky had been the one who ordered the corps to Petrograd in the first place. Kerensky was now heavily amping up the accusation that Kornilov had done everything of his own sinister initiative, but the historical record more than confirms the transfer of the Third Cavalry Corps to Petrograd was done at Kerensky’s initiative and probably with the intention of declaring martial law. It was only after he did this that Kerensky changed his mind, and decided to pin all the blame for any attempt to declare martial law on Kornilov and Kornilov alone. After all, Alexander Kerensky is no military dictator! He is the defender of democracy against the right wing counter-revolutionaries. Despairing for himself and for Russia after having received this absurd dressing down, the commander of the Cavalry Corps left his meeting with Kerensky, went to a private apartment at Petrograd and shot himself in the heart.

With the Kornilov affair now abruptly ended. Anyone who might have supported him loudly disowned him. He was peacefully relieved of command on September 1st and placed under house arrest, and he would remain in custody until November. When the Bolshevik revolt Kornilov had long predicted and tried to avert finally happened, Kornilov and other loyal officers in custody with him escaped their jail cells and went off to form the core of the volunteer arm one of the main pillars of the White Army in the coming civil war.

Having successfully thwarted a right-wing coup that was probably never a right-wing coup, and having rehabilitated and rearmed the Bolsheviks, Alexander Kerensky now stood as the effective dictator of Russia. And next week we will head into September 1917, and see him make his final fumbling attempts to be the great leader russia needed him to be. The great leader he believed it was his destiny to become. But of course we know what Alexander Kerensky’s destiny really was: the man known to history as the leader overthrown in the October Revolution. .

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