Of the fact of the collapse there can be no doubt.  The Ninth Congress of the Communist Party (March-April, 1920) speaks of “the incredible catastrophes of public economy,” and in connection with transport, which is one of the vital elements of the problem, it acknowledges “the terrible collapse of the transport and the railway system,” and urges the introduction of “measures which cannot be delayed and which are to obviate the complete paralysis of the railway system and, together with this, the ruin of the Soviet Republic.”  Almost all those who have visited Russia would confirm this view of the gravity of the situation.  In the factories, in great works like those of Putilov and Sornovo, very little except war work is being done; machinery stands idle and plant is becoming unusable.  One sees hardly any new manufactured articles in Russia, beyond a certain very inadequate quantity of clothes and boots—­always excepting what is needed for the army.  And the difficulty of obtaining food is conclusive evidence of the absence of goods such as are needed by the peasants.

How has this state of affairs arisen?  And why does it continue?

A great deal of disorganization occurred before the first revolution and under Kerensky.  Russian industry was partly dependent on Poland; the war was conducted by methods of reckless extravagance, especially as regards rolling-stock; under Kerensky there was a tendency to universal holiday, under the impression that freedom had removed the necessity for work.  But when all this is admitted to the full, it remains true that the state of industry under the Bolsheviks is much worse than even under Kerensky.

The first and most obvious reason for this is that Russia was quite unusually dependent upon foreign assistance.  Not only did the machinery in the factories and the locomotives on the railways come from abroad, but the organizing and technical brains in industry were mainly foreign.  When the Entente became hostile to Russia, the foreigners in Russian industry either left the country or assisted counter-revolution.  Even those who were in fact loyal naturally became suspect, and could not well be employed in responsible posts, any more than Germans could in England during the war.  The native Russians who had technical or business skill were little better; they almost all practised sabotage in the first period of the Bolshevik regime.  One hears amusing stories of common sailors frantically struggling with complicated accounts, because no competent accountant would work for the Bolsheviks.

But those days passed.  When the Government was seen to be stable, a great many of those who had formerly sabotaged it became willing to accept posts under it, and are now in fact so employed, often at quite exceptional salaries.  Their importance is thoroughly realized.  One resolution at the above-mentioned Congress says (I quote verbally the unedited document which was given to us in Moscow):