One of Kerensky's first actions upon becoming prime minister on July 8, instigated quite likely by Savinkov and Filonenko, was the appointment of Kornilov as commander of the southwestern front. Here enemy pressure was greatest and the disintegration of Russian units most advanced. Kor- nilov wasted no time in reinforcing his reputation for iron firmness. On the day he assumed command, in a telegram to Kerensky drafted by Zavoiko, Kornilov demanded the authorization of capital punishment for fleeing soldiers in terms so threatening that Savinkov was forced to intercede and insist the message be revised.27 The next day, without waiting for Kerensky's reply, Kornilov ordered his subordinate commanders to use machine guns and artillery on units falling back without orders.28
Kerensky did not need Kornilov's warning to appreciate the gravity of Russia's military situation and the need for drastic measures to halt the waves of Russian soldiers now rushing pell-mell from the battlefield. On July 9, even before receipt of Kornilov's first telegram, Kerensky had issued orders to all commanders to fire on units retreating without authority. Three days later, upon Kerensky's recommendation, the Provisional Government officially reinstituted the use of capital punishment to maintain discipline at the front. Nonetheless, evidence of Kornilov's effort at applying pressure on the government was leaked to the press, quite likely by the resourceful Zavoiko. Accounts in nationalist papers in Petrograd conveyed the impression that Kornilov was pushing the government to authorize stern measures to restore discipline in the army (this was true), while Kerensky was acting reluctantly in response to this pressure (this was not the case at all). As a result, in rightist circles, Kornilov's stock soared while the government's took a corresponding plunge. Among the masses, meanwhile, Kornilov's image as perhaps the foremost symbol of counterrevolution was significantly reinforced.
On July 16, Kerensky, accompanied by Foreign Minister Tereshchenko and by Savinkov and Filonenko, met at General Staff headquarters (Stavka) in Mogilev with the Russian military high command. This emergency council was organized at Kerensky's behest to evaluate jointly the military situation on all fronts in the wake of the enemy's successful counteroffen- sive and to consider ways of halting the disintegration of the army. Because of the particularly unstable situation on the southwestern front, Kornilov had been directed to remain at his post and to telegraph a report to the conference, but most of the other top Russian generals were present, among them the commander-in-chief, General Brusilov; General Denikin, western front commander; General Klembovsky, from the northern front; and Generals Ruzsky and Alekseev, both temporarily unassigned.29 Not unexpectedly, these officers vented their bitterness at the changes that the revolution had brought to the army. One after the other they blasted the Soviet and the Provisional Government in general, as well as Kerensky personally, for having directly facilitated the army's ruin. At the core of the generals' complaints were incompetent commissars and constantly proliferating, power-seeking committees, which, they felt, had subverted the authority of officers and continually interfered with military operations. As one of the front commanders declared: "There cannot be dual authority in the army. The army must have one head and one authority." General Brusilov articulated the seminal importance the generals obviously attached to the army's restoration: "There is only one reason for all the difficulties that the Provisional Government has experienced in Petrograd and for all the disasters within Russia—namely, the absence of an army."30
Implicit in the generals' comments was their conviction that the government's permissiveness was primarily to blame for the army's troubles and, concomitantly, that the imposition of strict discipline in the ranks, along with appropriate legal and administrative sanctions, would alone restore the fighting capacity of the army; the generals made it clear that if Kerensky were unwilling to act decisively in this regard without further delay, they would be compelled to take matters into their own hands. The longest, most impassioned speech was delivered by General Denikin, a dashing, young, much-decorated hero of the early war years, who followed his indictment of Kerensky and postrevolutionary conditions in the army with a series of blunt demands for immediate implementation by the government, which subsequently received strong support from most of his colleagues. Denikin insisted on complete freedom of action for the generals in all military matters. He called for the immediate abolition of commissars and democratic committees, the revocation of the Declaration of Soldiers' Rights,31 the restoration in full of the traditional authority of officers, the reintroduction of capital punishment and the use of special military courts to reimpose discipline among units in the rear, and the total prohibition of political activity in the army—in sum, not only a return to the old order among troops in battle zones, but the extension of repressive measures to military forces everywhere in Russia. Beyond this, Denikin demanded the formation of special punitive units for use by commanders to impose their authority by force when necessary.
One of the participants in the July 16 council at Stavka recorded that Kerensky listened to Denikin's indictment in stunned silence, hunched over a table, his head buried in his arms, and that Tereshchenko was moved to tears by the oppressive report.32 "If one may say so, Denikin was the hero of the occasion," General Alekseev later recorded appreciatively in his diary.33 Compared with Denikin's bombast, Kornilov's report to the council was relatively mild, no doubt partly because Zavoiko was away at the time and Savinkov and Filonenko had had some influence in its preparation.34 That Kornilov was basically in sympathy with Denikin is attested to by a telegram that Kornilov dispatched to him immediately upon receiving the text of Denikin's speech: "I would sign such a report with both hands. . . ."35
Kornilov's telegraphed report, while affirming the need for the traditional prestige and disciplinary authority of officers to be restored, for strict curbs on political activity in the armed forces, and for the extension of capital punishment and special courts to the rear, at the same time implied that commanders were to some degree responsible for breakdowns in order and discipline. Indeed, Kornilov called for a purge of the officer corps. In contrast to the other generals' blanket condemnation of commissars and committees, Kornilov's report was silent on the problem of civil interference in military matters. Beyond this, Kornilov actually proposed expanding the role of commissars (an unmistakable mark of Savinkov's influence). Finally, while insisting on the necessity of defining precisely and limiting narrowly the democratic committees' sphere of competence, Kornilov, unlike his fellow commanders, did not call for their immediate elimination.36
In the course of the train trip back to Petrograd after the July 16 council at Stavka, Kerensky, coaxed by Savinkov and Filonenko, apparently made up his mind to remove Brusilov and promote Kornilov to the post of commander-in-chief; two days later these changes were announced. At the same time, Kerensky named General Vladimir Cheremisov to replace Kornilov as commander of the southwestern front. Savinkov was to recall much later that he and Filonenko had urged Brusilov's removal because of his inability to cope with the crisis in the army and had pushed Kornilov as his replacement because of the firmness and coolness under pressure exhibited by the latter during his tenure (one week!) as southwestern front commander.37 This may well be true—at the time, Savinkov and Filonenko were preoccupied with finding a leader who would apply force decisively and unflinchingly against recalcitrant troops. It is harder to understand why, in view of his own personal political ambitions, Kerensky accepted their recommendation. At precisely this time, the new prime minister was engaged in a desperate effort to defend himself against attacks from both the extreme left and right and to piece together a second centrist, liberal- socialist coalition; his prospects for success in this venture were, as yet, uncertain. By now, Kornilov, by virtue of his growing popularity among liberals and conservatives had become a powerful political figure and a natural rival to Kerensky.