VI

After the crisis which resulted in the resignation of Miliukov and Guchkov, it was evident that the Lvov government could not long endure.  The situation in the army, as well as in the country, was so bad that the complete reorganization of the Provisional Government, upon much more radical lines, was imperative.  The question arose among the revolutionary working-class organizations whether they should consent to co-operation with the liberal bourgeoisie in a new coalition Cabinet or whether they should refuse such co-operation and fight exclusively on class lines.  This, of course, opened the entire controversy between Bolsheviki and Mensheviki.

In the mean time the war-weary nation was clamoring for peace.  The army was demoralized and saturated with the defeatism preached by the Porazhentsi.  To deal with this grave situation two important conventions were arranged for, as follows:  the Convention of Soldiers’ Delegates from the Front, which opened on May 10th and lasted for about a week, and the First All-Russian Congress of Peasants’ Delegates, which opened on May 17th and lasted for about twelve days.  Between the two gatherings there was also an important meeting of the Petrograd Council of Workmen’s and Soldiers’ Deputies, which dealt with the same grave situation.  The dates here are of the greatest significance:  the first convention was opened three days before Miliukov’s resignation and was in session when that event occurred; the second convention was opened four days after the resignation of Miliukov and one day after that of Guchkov.  It was Guchkov’s unique experience to address the convention of Soldiers’ Delegates from the Front as Minister of War and Marine, explaining and defending his policy with great ability, and then, some days later, to address the same assembly as a private citizen.

Guchkov drew a terrible picture of the seriousness of the military situation.  With truly amazing candor he described conditions and explained how they had been brought about.  He begged the soldiers not to lay down their arms, but to fight with new courage.  Kerensky followed with a long speech, noble and full of pathos.  In some respects, it was the most powerful of all the appeals it fell to his lot to make to his people, who were staggering in the too strong sunlight of an unfamiliar freedom.  He did not lack courage to speak plainly:  “My heart and soul are uneasy.  I am greatly worried and I must say so openly, no matter what ... the consequences will be.  The process of resurrecting the country’s creative forces for the purpose of establishing the new regime rests on the basis of liberty and personal responsibility....  A century of slavery has not only demoralized the government and transformed the old officials into a band of traitors, but it has also destroyed in the people themselves the consciousness of their responsibility for their fate, their country’s destiny.”  It was in this address that he cried out in his anguish:  “I regret that I did not die two months ago.  I would have died happy with the dream that the flame of a new life has been kindled in Russia, hopeful of a time when we could respect one another’s right without resorting to the knout.”