The Russian Revolution of 1917 was not a single incident or even a process but a sequence of disruptive and violent acts that occurred more or less concurrently yet involved actors with differing and in some measure contradictory objectives. . . .

Was the Revolution inevitable? . . . The most one can say is that a revolution in Russia was more likely than not, and this for a variety of reasons. Of these, perhaps the most weighty was the steady decline of the prestige of tsardom in the eyes of a population accustomed to being ruled by an invincible authority--indeed, seeing in invincibility the criterion of legitimacy. After a century and a half of military victories and expansion, from the middle of the nineteenth century until 1917, Russia suffered one humiliation after another at the hands of foreigners: the defeat, on her own soil, in the Crimean War; the loss at the Congress of Berlin of the fruits of victory over the Turks; the debacle in the war with Japan; and the drubbing at the hands of the Germans in World War I. Such a succession of reverses would have damaged the reputation of any government. In Russia it proved fatal. . . .

World War I subjected every belligerent country to immense strains, which could be overcome only by close collaboration between government and citizenry in the name of patriotism. In Russia, such collaboration never materialized. As soon as military reserves dissipated the initial patriotic enthusiasm and the country had to brace for a war of attrition, the tsarist regime found itself unable to mobilize public support. Even its admirers agree that at the time of its collapse, the monarchy was hanging in the air. . . .

In sum, while the collapse of tsarism was not inevitable, it was made likely by deep-seated cultural and political flaws that prevented the tsarist regime from adjusting to the economic and cultural growth of the country, flaws that proved fatal under the pressures generated by World War I. If the possibility of such adjustment existed, it was aborted by the activities of a radical intelligentsia bent on toppling the government and using Russia as a springboard for world revolution. It was cultural and political shortcomings of this nature that brought about the collapse of tsarism, not "oppression" or "misery." We are dealing here with a national tragedy whose causes recede deep into the country's past. Economic and social difficulties did not contribute significantly to the revolutionary threat that hung over Russia before 1917. Whatever grievances they may have harbored--real and fancied--the "masses" neither needed nor desired a revolution; the only group interested in it was the intelligentsia. Stress on alleged popular discontent and class conflict derives more from ideological preconceptions than from the facts at hand–namely from the discredited Marxist theory that political developments are always and everywhere driven by class conflicts, that they are mere "foam" on the surface of currents that really determine human destiny.

The subordinate role played by social and economic factors in the Russian Revolution becomes apparent when one scrutinizes the events of February 1917. . . . The record leaved little doubt that the myth of the Tsar being forced from the throne by the rebellious workers and peasants is just that. The Tsar yielded not to a rebellious populace but to generals and politicians, and he did so from a sense of patriotic duty.

The social revolution followed rather than preceded the act of abdication. The garrison soldiers, peasants, workers, and ethnic minorities, each group pursuing its own aims, made the country ungovernable. What chance there was of restoring order was frustrated by the insistence of the intelligentsia running the soviets that they and not the Provisional Government were the true sources of legitimate authority. . . .

Lenin rode to power on that anarchy, which he did much to promote. He promised every discontented group what it wanted. . . . Similar deception was applied to divest the Provisional Government of authority. Lenin and Trotsky concealed their bid for one-party dictatorship with slogans calling for the transfer of power to the soviets and the Constituent Assembly, and they formalized it by a fraudulently convened Congress of Soviets. No one except a handful of the leading figures in the Bolshevik Party knew the truth behind these premises and slogans; few, therefore, realized what had happened in Petrograd on the night of October 25, 1917. The so-called October Revolution was a classic coup d'etat. The preparations for it were so clandestine that when Kamenev disclosed in a newspaper interview a week before the event was to take place, that the party intended to seize power, Lenin declared him a traitor and demanded his expulsion. Genuine revolutions, of course, are not scheduled and cannot be betrayed. . . .

Seen in perspective, Lenin owes his historical prominence not to his statesmanship, which was of a rather inferior order, but to his generalship. He was one of history's great conquerors--a distinction not vitiated by the fact that the country he conquered was his own. His innovation, the reason for his success, was militarizing politics. He was the first head of state to treat politics, domestic as well as foreign, as warfare in the literal sense of the word, the objective of which was not to compel the enemy to submit but to annihilate him. . . . Militarizing politics and, as a corollary, politicizing warfare enabled him first to seize power and then to hold on to it. It did not help him build a viable political and social order. . . .

The Communist experiment is often labeled "utopian." The term, however, is applicable only in the limited sense in which Engels used it to criticize socialists who did not accept his and Marx's "scientific" doctrines, by making in their visions no allowance for historic and social realities. . . . The Bolsheviks ceased to be utopians when, once it had become obvious the ideal was unattainable, they persisted in the attempt by resorting to unrestrained violence. . . . For these reasons they should be regarded not as utopians but as fanatics.

...

One of the most controversial issues arising from the Russian Revolution is the relationship of Leninism to Stalinism--in other words, Lenin's responsibility for Stalin. Western Communists, fellow travelers, and sympathizers deny any link between the two Communist leaders, insisting that Stalin not only did not continue Lenin's work but repudiated it. . . .

An examination of Stalin's career reveals that he did not seize power after Lenin's death but ascended to it, step by step, initially under Lenin's sponsorship. Lenin came to rely on Stalin in managing the party apparatus, especially after 1920, when the Party was torn by democratic heresies. . . . Thanks to this patronage, by 1922, when illness forced Lenin increasingly to withdraw from affairs of state, Stalin was the only person who belonged to all three of the ruling organs of the Central Committee. . . . That in the last months of his active life Lenin developed doubts about Stalin and came close to breaking off personal relations with him should not obscure the fact that until that moment he had done everything in his power to promote Stalin's ascendancy. ...

Beyond the strong personal links binding the two men, Stalin was a true Leninist in that he faithfully followed his patron's political philosophy and practices. Every ingredient of what has come to be known as Stalinism save one--murdering fellow Communists--he had learned from Lenin, and that includes the two actions for which he is most severely condemned: collectivization and mass terror. Stalin's megalomania, his vindictiveness, his morbid paranoia, and other odious personal qualities should not obscure the fact that his ideology and modus operandi were Lenin's. A man of meager education, he had no other model or source of ideas. . . .