Christian Rakovsky
An Autobiography
I was born on 1 August 1873 in the Bulgarian town of Kotel. As early as the first half of the
nineteenth century, Kotel had become an important economic and political
centre. The family into which I was born belonged to the most prosperous class
in town. My father engaged in agriculture and trade, and for the sake of the
tatter spent a few weeks in Constantinople
every year. He was a member of the so-called Democratic Party, was noted for
his inquisitiveness, had received a gymnasium
schooling and knew Greek. None of this, however, was of any benefit to me in my
future development.
It was different with my mother. She came from
a family which had played a vital part in the political and cultural history of
the Bulgarian people. From it had come Captain Georgy Mamarchev, a former
officer in Dibich-Zabalkanskys Russian army, who had made the first attempt at
a concerted rising against the Turkish yoke. The rising was crushed and
Mamarchev arrested. He was exiled to Asia Minor, and then to the island of Samos, where he died. He was the uncle
of the famous revolutionary figure Savva Rakovsky, who dominated the Bulgarian
poitical and cultural scene from 1840 until 1867. While in Rumania in 1841, he had raised a partisan
detachment to invade Bulgaria.
He was arrested and sentenced to death, but escaped to France. An amnesty gave him the
opportunity to return to his native town, but not for long. Soon both father
and son were flung into the Constantinople
prison. The vengeance of their political opponents was also heaped on the now
defenceless family, including my mother who was still then a girl. The family
were excommunicated and forbidden all contact with neighbours, so that when
there were no matches, at a time when a fire was lit by bringing embers from
next door, they had to pay for the political sins of their father and brothers
by starving and freezing. Although I reached the age of awareness many years
after Savva Rakovskys death, the reminiscences of my mother and grandmother
were still sufficiently vivid to stir my imagination.
From early childhood I conceived a strong and
passionate sympathy for Russia
not merely because the revolutionary activity of my grandfathers and uncles
had been mainly connected with Russia,
but also because I had witnessed the Russo-Turkish War. I was not more than five
then, but the dim vision of Russian soldiers marching through the Balkans
became imprinted on my childish memory. Our house was one of the best in town
and therefore became the quarters of high-ranking officers. I met General
Totleben, the architect of the siege of Plevna. I met and accompanied Prince
Vyazemsky, one of the commanders of the Bulgarian militia division, who was
later nursed for more than forty days in our house after being wounded. Among
the officers there were also people in contact with underground organizations,
and there was a legend in our family that they kept saying, We are liberating
you, but who will liberate us? The war upset our family life as well: our
estate was inside Rumania,
and we all had to be evacuated to Rumanian Dobruja.
I received my initial education in Kotel, and
continued it in Dobruja under my mothers supervision. I spent the last year of
primary school in Varna,
and then went to the gymnasium there. It was the period when even the youngest
students were passionately interested in politics. I, too, began to take notice
of social questions. In 1887 the political ferment at the gymnasium came to a
head, aided by discontent with a few teachers. A riot erupted, which it took a
company of soldiers to suppress. I was one of those arrested and excluded from
all Bulgarian schools. I spent one year in my fathers house in Mangalia,
reading indiscriminately everything that came to hand. In 1888 I was given
permission to attend a gymnasium again, and I went to Gabrovo, where I entered
the fifth form. I spent less than two years here, for before the end of the
sixth form I was again excluded from all Bulgarian schools, and this time it
was for good.
It was in Gabrovo that my political ideas were
moulded and I became a marxist. My mentor was Dabev,
one of the veterans of the Bulgarian revolutionary movement. Balabanov, a
friend of mine who subsequently died a tragic death in Geneva, joined with me
in publishing a clandestine, hectographed newspaper called Zerkalo, in
which there was something of everything: Rousseaus educational ideas, the
struggle between rich and poor, the misdeeds of teachers, etc. We also obtained
a few illegal publications printed in Geneva
and translated into Bulgarian, which we distributed among the peasants. Whilst
still in the fifth form, I had stood up in the church at Kotel and preached
about the first Christian church
of St James in other
words about Christian communism. But in general our activities were confined to
the gymnasium.
In Autumn 1890 I set
off for Geneva
to enter the medical faculty. I chose medicine because we imagined that it
would enable us to meet the people directly. At that time we only knew of
individual influence. We still did not think of activities on a mass scale. It
seemed to us that the regime of the Bulgarian dictator, Strambolov, would last
for ever.
During the first few months after my arrival in
Geneva, I
became acquainted with the Russian political migrs and, in particular, the
Russian social democratic circles. A little later, I met Plekhanov, Zasulich
and Axelrod, and for many years their influence on me was decisive. I spent
three years in Geneva,
from 1890 to 1893. Although I enrolled as a student and even took the
examinations, I was completely indifferent to medicine. My interests lay
outside the university. I quickly became involved in activity among the Russian
students, and directed marxist self-education circles
with Rosa Luxemburg, who lived for a short while in Geneva.
I did not confine myself, however, to purely
Russian concerns. Together with other foreign and Russian comrades, we
organised the socialist elements among the Geneva students. We also developed links with
socialist students in other countries, particularly Belgium, where the first
International Congress of Socialist Students was held in the winter of 1891-2.
I did not succeed in attending this congress myself, although I corresponded
with the organizers. Yet all the preparatory work for the second congress,
which took place in Geneva,
devolved in effect upon me. On all the most difficult problems, I consulted
Plekhanov. I was also in touch with the Geneva
and French labour movements. In Geneva I was
close to the Polish and Armenian revolutionary circles as well, but my main
preoccupation was with Bulgaria.
I translated Devilles book LEvolution die Capital, adding a long
introduction which contained an analysis of economic relations in Bulgaria.
Later, we edited a Bulgarian journal in Geneva,
which in name, format and external appearance was a direct imitation of the
Russian migr journal Sotsial-Demokrat. But this was understandable
since Plekhanov was also the inspiration behind our journal. I translated a
number of his articles directly from the manuscript. When the first marxist journal, Den, was launched in Bulgaria,
and the first SD weekly paper Rabotnik was founded, as well as Drugar
(Comrade), I became a permanent contributor to them all, but particularly to
the latter. Sometimes half an edition would be filled with my articles written
under various pseudonyms. In 1893 I was a delegate to the Socialist
International Congress in Zurich.
This Geneva
period in my life strengthened my marxist convictions
and my hatred for Russian tsarism.
While still a student in Geneva,
I visited Bulgaria
more than once to give a series of lectures attacking the tsarist government.
In 1897, when I graduated from the university, a book of mine was published in
Bulgaria entitled Russiya na Istok (Russia in the East), which for
years to come provided ammunition not only for the Bulgarian Socialist Party
against Russian tsarism, but also for all so-called russophobe tendencies in
the Balkans. I was following Plekhanovs dictum: Tsarist Russia must be
isolated in its foreign relations. But the Bulgarian bourgeois press had
already drawn attention to me during my first visits to Bulgaria. The russophile
papers had waged a campaign against me while I was still a student. In Autumn 1893 I entered the Medical Faculty in Berlin with the aim of
acquainting myself more closely with the German labour movement. There I wrote
articles on Balkan affairs for Vorwrts. I also joined the clandestine
socialist student groups and became particularly close to Wilhelm Liebknecht.
Through him, I met the other leaders of German social democracy. He had a great
influence on me, and we corresponded until 1900. He was greatly interested in
the Balkans, and the Russian, Polish and Romanian revolutionary movements. In Berlin all my political
life was centred on the Russian colony. This was the time of the flowering of
Russian legal marxism. The Russian colony lived on
arguments: about populism and marxism, about the
subjectivist school and about dialectical materialism. But I also became
involved in more specialized debates (for example against the zionists).
After six months in Berlin I was arrested, and deported a few
days later. I spent the summer term of 1894 at the Medical Faculty in Zurich, in which town P.B. Axelrod was also living, and
the winter of 1894-5 in Nancy.
I maintained contact with the Bulgarian movement and corresponded with
Plekhanov and V.A. Zasulich, the latter living in London.
The last two years of my student career were
spent in Montpellier.
Besides asociating with Russian and Bulgarian students, I also began to draw
closer to the French socialists and to collaborate on the marxist
journal La Jeunesse Socialiste, edited in Toulouse by Lagardelle, as well as on the
daily organ La Petite Rpublique when it passed under the control of
Jules Guesde. The debate among Russian students in Montpellier
revolved around the same topics as in Berlin.
In addition, the zionists here had many followers,
against whom I waged an unceasing campaign. I was also a member of a French
student circle and spoke at closed workers meetings. Even in Nancy I had been kept under observation by
the French police and as a result of this I could not, of course, expand my
activities.
The end of my student days coincided with
events that burst upon the European political scene: the rebellion in Armenia and on the island of Crete.
In a series of articles I attempted to draw the attention of the French
Socialist Party and the French proletariat to the advisability of interceding
on behalf of the Armenians, Cretans and Macedonians. I believed in general that
ignorance and a lack of understanding of Eastern questions were one of the
defects of the international socialist movement, and I devoted a report to this
problem which I presented on behalf of the Bulgarian SD Party at the London
International Socialist Congress in 1896. It was subsequently reprinted by
Kautsky in Neue Zeit.
When I reached St Petersburg, I discovered that Struve had
veered, sharply to the right. He bitterly reproached Zasulich for returning to Russia
since, if discovered, she might compromise her friends. This greatly
distressed her, for she had been very attached to him since 1896 when he had
stayed for a few weeks in London
after the end of the International SD Congress. Things developed to such a pass
that while Mikhailovsky, Karpov and Annensky, not to mention our marxists
(Tugan-Baranovsky, Veresaev, Bogucharsky, etc.) would meet her in my wifes
flat, Struve for a long time refused to see her.
As for Plekhanovs plan of contributing to Russkoye
Bogatstvo, we discussed it in the Russian circle and rejected it as
unsuitable. We thought it would be more advisable for him to write for Zhizn,
published by Posse and Gorky.
I myself was extremely happy to be in St Petersburg. I inhaled
great gulps of winter air and dreamt of prolonged activity in Russia. With my wife and some
comrades (including A.N. Kalmykova and N.A. Struve, who was further to the left
than her husband), we drew up plans for propaganda among workers and students.
Very soon, however, I was ordered to leave Russia within forty-eight hours.
This expulsion upset all my plans. I had no desire to return to the Balkans,
for the closer I came to the Russian revolutionary movement, the more my
interest in the Balkans decreased. It was suggested that I should go to Revel
under police supervision and wait for a boat, which I did, accompanied by my
wife. It was there that I completed Contemporary France, which was
published under the pseudonym Insarov (a name chosen for me by my St Petersburg friends).
Among those who were directly involved in
efforts to win an extension of my stay in St
Petersburg was N.I. Gurovich, who subsequently proved
to be an agent provocateur. Before my departure, he assured me that,
thanks to his connections at court (with the brother or the brother-in-law of
Baron Friederichs), he was convinced he would be able to arrange my return
within a short period of time. He repeated this when he came to Paris in Summer 1900, and his assertions about the possibility of my
return became more frequent. Finally, he asked me for money to bribe the
relatives of Baron Friederichs. Of course, this was no problem and I was soon back in Russia.
Before I left, I enrolled as a student at the law faculty in Paris,
thinking that, after all that had happened in St Petersburg,
I would not be able to remain there long and that I would have to return to France.
In St
Petersburg it was like a desert. After the student
disorder of spring 1901, a large number of propagandists had been banished from
the capital, among them many legal marxists. The only
link which remained for me was with the clandestine world, where Lenins
pamphlet What Is To Be Done? soon became the main topic of discussion.
I redoubled my collaboration on the thick
Russian journals, which continued until 1904, mainly under the pen names of
Insarov and Grigoriev. But this still could not satisfy my longing for real
activity, and after the misfortune of my wifes death I returned to Paris in
1902, where I began to sit law examinations with the intention of settling there,
adopting French citizenship, and taking a militant part in the revolutionary
movement.
It was at this time that I practised medicine
freely for the only time in my life. I was a doctor for six months in the village of Beaulieu
in the department of the Loire. I formed
political as well as professional ties with the peasantry, particularly after
an official banquet where I made a speech which greatly displeased the senators
and deputies present. It was suggested that I should stay in Beaulieu, but the death
of my father in summer 1903 forced me to return home. From that moment, I
reverted to work with the Balkan parties, especially the Rumanian labour
movement.
During the winter of 1903-4 I returned to Paris, and I was there
when the Russo-Japanese war broke out. I was one of the speakers at a huge
meeting attended by representatives of all the revolutionary parties. My speech
earned the reproaches of the chairman, my mentor Plekhanov, for its defeatist
spirit. He had come to Paris
before the declaration of war to give a paper, and as he was then expelled from
the country, we had to prevail upon Clmenceau to intervene and obtain a
temporary entry visa. I remember how, on the day following the meeting,
Plekhanov, Jules Guesde and I were lunching together,
and Plekhanov complained of my defeatism. Jules Guesde sententiously replied:
Social democracy can never be anti-national. Many a time after this Plekhanov
reminded me of this phrase. Three months later I returned to Rumania, and then to Bulgaria, where the split between
the tesnyaki (those wanting a tight party structure) and the shirokiye
(who wanted a looser structure) was an accomplished fact. I sided firmly
with the tesnyaki.
In the same year I attended the International
Socialist Congress in Amsterdam,
where I had mandates from the Serbian as well as the Bulgarian SD Parties. I
was actively involved in the deliberations of the commission on tactics. Whilst
I was in Amsterdam,
I was invited by the Russian delegation to address a workers meeting about the
assassination of Plehve.
I returned once more to Rumania, where the events of 9 January 1905 roused the
working class. We founded the weekly newspaper Romania Muncitoare (The
Workers Rumania),
which gave birth to a political organization with the same name. Unlike the
dissolved Rumanian SD Party, which had mainly consisted of intellectuals and
members of the petty bourgeoisie, we paid the greatest attention to the
formation of trade unions so as to provide a proletarian base for the so Party.
It was an extremely opportune moment. The working class readily responded to
the call of Romania Muncitoare. The strike movement grew to such an
extent that even the Bucharest
police asked us for help in organizing their strike. More and more trade unions
came into being. Both capitalists and the government were taken completely by
surprise, and the first strikes were ended quickly and successfully. But the
employers retreated only the better to prepare a
counter-attack.
The years 1905 and 1906 were marked by acute
class conflict in Rumania.
The press of all shades of opinion saw me as the inspiration for this movement,
and by concentrating their campaign against me, a foreigner by birth, supposed
that they could discredit the whole labour movement. Two events infuriated the
Rumanian government and ruling classes even more: the arrival in Constanza of
the battleship Potemkin, and the peasant rebellion of Spring
1907. The government suspected a hidden motive behind the appearance of the Potemkin
and my help in organizing its sailors that of using the latter to provoke a
revolution in Rumania and
thereby further the revolution in Russia. We, however, set ourselves
the more modest goal of politically educating the Potemkins crew.
Between the ships arrival and the peasant rebellion, there occurred another
event which put the government even more on its guard. A ship loaded with arms
from Varna
(dispatched by Litvinov, as I later learnt), and bound for Batum, ran aground
on the Rumanian coast and was seized by the authorities. I had a meeting with
the crew, among whom was the Bolshevik delegate Kamo.
I learnt from him that it was a case of treachery, as the captain himself had
turned the ship towards the shore. Hut whatever the reason, this extremely
valuable cargo of at least fifty thousand rifles, formally destined for the
Macedonian revolutionary organization in Turkey, was now in the hands of the
Rumanian government. The press began to claim that it had really been intended
for a rising in Dobruja and pointed a finger in my direction.
In February 1907 the peasant rebellion broke
out. It was directed at first against Jewish tenants in northern Moldavia
and was prompted by the antisemitic outbursts of Rumanian liberals and
nationalists. After plundering the Jews farmsteads, however, the peasants
turned on the Rumanian tenants and then the landlords. The position became
critical. The whole country, that is all the villages, was engulfed in the
flames of the rising. Its second action was to take rapid reprisals against the
labour movement, which had kept the town authorities on constant alert on the
eve of the peasant rising. So as to render the movement harmless, a whole
series of measures were taken in the towns: searches, confiscation of socialist
newspapers, closure of trade union premises, and the arrest of workers
leaders. I was the first to be detained. This was soon followed by the
blatantly illegal act of deportation. For the next five years, the class
struggle of the Rumanian workers raged around the question of my return, which
they had set as a practical objective. From exile I continued to participate in
the leadership of the. Rumanian labour movement and to write
for party and trade-union organs, in addition to producing pamphlets and the SD
journal Viitorul Social. I also prepared two books: one in
Rumanian, From the Kingdom of Arbitrariness and Cowardice, and one in
French, La Roumanie des boyars. The first was intended for the Rumanian
workers, the second for the information of socialist parties and public opinion
abroad, but both dealt with the persecution of Rumanian workers and peasants.
I returned secretly to Rumania in 1909. I was arrested and
deported without a trial. I resisted and a free-for-all ensued until I could be
bundled into the carriage. At the border, the Hungarian authorities refused to
admit me, and I was shuttled backwards and forwards like a parcel between the
two countries until finally, after diplomatic negotiations between the Rumanian
and Austro-Hungarian governments, I was allowed into Hungary. Both my comrades and I had
been counting on a series of prosecutions against me which they could use for
agitation in the workers organizations. Even earlier, in March or April 1908,
the Rumanian government had brought two charges against me in my absence. In
doing so (and in order to justify my deportation, since there was no law in Rumania
which empowered the government to deport its own citizens), it resorted to
unbelievable legal chicanery, and did not even shrink from fabricating evidence
against me. We struggled to have my case tried while I was in the country, but
the government preferred to let me go free abroad, rather than hold me in
prison and try me, thus providing a weapon which could be turned against it and
the bourgeoisie.
Although the fact of my arrest had been
withheld, it nevertheless found its way into the papers, whereupon the
government categorically denied it. The Rumanian working class, which knew from
experience that the government was capable of all sorts of illegality, saw its
attempt to conceal my arrest and my non-admittance into Hungary as an indication of its
criminal intentions towards me. Their indignation grew until on 19 October 1909, after a
remark by Bratianu reported in the newspapers that he would rather destroy me
than let me back into Rumania,
they organized a street demonstration which ended in a bloody battle with the
police. Apart from the dozens of injured, roughly thirty workers were arrested,
among them the leaders of trade-union and political labour movements, who were
beaten up in the Bucharest
police cellars the same night. All these outrages provoked protests not only
inside Rumania
in working-class areas both large and small, and in the bourgeois-democratic
press but also abroad. The conflict between the government and the workers
became more acute. There was an unsuccessful attempt on Bratianus life, in
which it transpired that even the police were implicated. This attempt was the
signal for new repressions against the workers and for emergency laws banning
strikes and suspending the right of association. The government could no longer
remain in office and it departed, cursed by the workers, to be replaced by a
Conservative government headed by Karp.
In February 1910 I secretly re-entered Rumania.
This time I managed to reach the capital and, after contacting the comrades, I
gave myself up to the judicial authorities. Yet again the government preferred
to pack me off abroad rather than open wide the gates of prison. Since I was
barred from entering Hungary,
it twice tried to hustle me across the Bulgarian border and failed. The way was
still open for them to deport me to Russia, but they could not resort
to this, and only the sea was left. I was put aboard a steamship, armed with a
Rumanian passport, and sent off to Constantinople.
Here too, however, I was arrested after a few days by the Young Turk
authorities on the demand of the Rumanian police, but the intervention of
Turkish socialist deputies released me from prison. I arrived in Sofia and organized the
daily socialist newspaper Napred, the main task of which was opposition
to the bellicose Bulgarian nationalism which was inciting war in the Balkans.
Of course, I became a target for all Bulgarian nationalists.
In the meantime, a change in my favour was
about to take place in Rumania.
The main enemy of the labour movement was the Liberal Party, which represented
not only landlords and tenant capital, but also most industrial capital. After
a few concessions to the peasants, which brought a little calm to the villages,
the conservatives decided that for the time being they need not fear fresh
outbursts from the peasantry and that the labour movement could be of use to
them in their struggle with the liberals. Whatever the reasons, after my second
return and second deportation, the conservatives declared that they were ready
to allow a review of my case. The decree on my exile was rescinded and a
special court restored my political rights. This was in April 1912.
We were not fated to enjoy for long the period
of peaceful party organization. In autumn 1912 the First Balkan War broke
out, and not a year had passed after its conclusion before the omens of
worldwide conflict could be read by all. From August 1914 until August 1916,
when Rumania
entered the war, its SD Party had to sustain a very hard struggle. We had to
defend the countrys neutrality against two pro-war parties the russophiles
and the germanophiles. The argument was not confined to unprecedentedly bitter
polemics in the press, at meetings and street demonstrations. It occasionally
assumed more tragic proportions. In 1916 a massacre of workers took place at
Galatzi, in which eight people were killed. I was arrested and accused of
organizing an insurrection against the authorities. This provoked an outburst
of indignation among the workers. A general strike was declared in Bucharest, which
threatened to spread to the whole country. The government was obviously afraid
of sparking off disorders on the eve of war and freed me, as well as the other
arrested comrades.
During the period 1914-16, my activities were not
limited to a struggle with the Rumanian bourgeoisie and landowners. As a member
of the Rumanian Central Committee, I did everything in my power to build up
contacts with those parties, groups and individual comrades abroad who remained faithful to the precepts of the International.
In April 1915 I was invited by the Italian
Socialist Party to an international anti-war meeting in Milan. On the way home, I broke my journey in
Switzerland
to meet Lenin and the Swiss workers party. Even before this, I had been in
contact with Trotsky who was then editing Nashe Slovo in Paris, and for which I
also wrote. These discussions and meetings ended in the summoning of the
Zimmerwald Conference.
During the preceding summer, a conference had
met in Bucharest
of all the Balkan socialist parties with a platform based on explicitly
internationalist and class principles. Consequently the party of the Bulgarian
Social Democratic opportunists (the shirokiye) was excluded from the
conference. A Revolutionary Balkan Social Democratic Labour Federation was
formed, comprising the Rumanian, Bulgarian, Serbian and Greek parties. A
Central Bureau was elected, and I became its secretary. Thus even before the
Zimmerwald Conference, the Balkan parties had indicated their implacable
hostility to imperialism.
I participated in the Berne Conference of
Zimmerwald delegates in spring 1916, where I spoke with Lenin at an
international workers meeting. But I did not have an opportunity of attending
the Kienthal Conference, since Rumanias
borders had been closed in readiness for war. Hostilities commenced in August
1916, and within one month I was under arrest.
The Rumanian government dragged me with it when
it retreated from Bucharest
to Iassy, where I was freed by Russian troops on 1 May 1917. The first town which I visited after
my release was Odessa.
Here I began my struggle against the war and defencism, and I continued this
campaign after arriving in Petrograd. Although
I had not yet joined the Bolshevik Party and I disagreed with them on some
points, I was threatened with deportation if I continued my activities.
During the Kornilov days, I was hidden by the
Bolshevik organization at the Sestroretsk cartridge factory, and from there
made my way to Kronstadt. When Kornilov had been defeated, I decided to go to Stockholm, where a
conference of the Zimmerwald left was due to meet. I was still there when the
October revolution broke out. In December I was in Petrograd,
and at the beginning of January I left for the south as an organizer and
Commissar for the Sovnarkom of the RSFSR, escorted by a detachment of sailors
led by Zheleznyakov. I spent a certain time in Sebastopol and after organizing
an expedition to the Danube to fight against the Rumanians who had already
occupied Bessarabia, I accompanied it as far as Odessa. Here a Supreme Autonomous Collegium
was set up for the struggle against counter-revolution in Rumania and the Ukraine,
and as its Chairman and a member of Rumcherod (the Central Executive Council of
Rumanian Soviets), I remained in Odessa
until the town was captured by the Germans. Thence I went to Nikolaev, the
Crimea, Ekaterinoslav (where I attended the second Congress of Ukrainian
Soviets), Poltava and Kharkov. After my arrival in Moscow,
where I spent no more than a month, I departed for Kursk with a delegation which was to hold
peace talks with the Central Ukrainian Rada. There we learnt of Skoropadskys coup
dtat. We concluded a ceasefire with the Germans, who were continuing
their offensive, and then the Skoropadsky government proposed that we should go
to Kiev. Here
the task of our delegation was to explain to the workers and peasant masses the
true policy of the Soviet government, contrasting it with the policies of
Skoropadsky, the Central Rada, and the other
agents of German imperialism and the Russian landlords. In September, I was
sent on an emergency mission to Germany
to continue negotiations with the German government about a peace treaty with
the Ukraine.
From there, I was due to go to Vienna, where a
republic already existed, and whilst in Berlin I received the agreement of the
Austrian government, whose Foreign Minister at that time was the leader of
Austrian social democracy, Victor Adler. But the German authorities refused to
allow this. Indeed, I was soon expelled from Germany with Joffe (our
Ambassador), Bukharin and other comrades. We were still on our way to the
border under German escort when, at Borisov, we received news of the German
revolution.
Shortly afterwards, the TSIK included me in the
delegation which was to attend the first Congress of German Soviets of Workers
and Soldiers Deputies the other members being Markhlevski, Bukharin, Joffe,
Radek and Ignatov. We were detained, however, by the German military
authorities in Kovno and after a few days imprisonment sent back to Minsk. After a short stay
there, and also in Gomel, where German control
was tottering, I arrived in Moscow.
I was summoned from there by the Ukrainian CC to become President of the
Provisional Revolutionary Government of the Workers and Peasants of the Ukraine.
The third All-Ukrainian Congress of Soviets was convened in March 1918 and
there I was elected Chairman of the Ukrainian Sovnarkom. I held this post until
mid-September at first in Kharkov, then in Kiev and, after the evacuation of Kiev,
in Chernigov.
In mid-September I went to Moscow and, while retaining my chairmanship,
I was also put in charge of the Political Directorate of the RVS of the
Republic. I directed this institution until January during the dark days of the
thrusts by Denikin, Kolchak and Yudenich.
When Kharkov was
liberated from the Whites, I was soon designated Chairman of the Sovnarkom of
the Ukrainian Soviet Republic
and member of the RVS of what was then the South-Western Front. Here we had
gained the advantage against Denikin and were now conducting the war with the
Poles. Subsequently, this area was renamed the Southern Front and its RVS was
led by the late M.V. Frunze, whose colleague I remained. I held the
chairmanship of the Ukrainian Sovnarkom simultaneously with the chairmanship of
other bodies: the Extraordinary Commission for the Struggle against Banditry,
the Emergency Sanitary Commission, the Special Commission for Fuel and Food,
and the Ukrainian Economic Council. I remained continuously in the Ukraine
until July 1923, with the exception of the period when I accompanied Chicherin,
Litvinov and others to the Genoa Conference.
In July 1923 I was named Plenipotentiary in England, where I conducted negotiations for the
recognition of the Soviet Union by the British
government. Later I headed the Soviet delegation which concluded the well-known
agreements with MacDonald, only to see them repudiated by the new Conservative
government.
From London I
directed talks with Herriot, and then with Herriot and de Monzie, which led to
the recognition of the Soviet Union by the
French government. Since the end of October 1925 I have been Ambassador in Paris.
Since 1918 I have been a member of the TSIK, at
first of the RSFSR and then of the USSR, and I was a Presidium member
until 1925. Since 1919 I have also had a seat on the CC of the RKP. Until 1924
I was a member of the following Ukrainian bodies: the TSIK, the CC and the Politbureau.