The November 1–5, 1916, sessions of the Duma marked the onset of a revolutionary psychosis: an intensely felt, irrational desire to pull down the entire edifice of monarchic Russia. This psychosis, long prevalent among radical intellectuals, now seized the liberal center and even spilled into conservative ranks. General V. N. Voeikov, who observed this phenomenon from headquarters at Mogilev, speaks of a “widespread conviction that something had to be broken and annihilated—a conviction that tormented people and gave them no peace.”83 Another contemporary wrote in December 1916 of a “siege of authority that has turned into sport.”84
How pervasive this attitude had become may be demonstrated on the behavior of the Tsar’s immediate family, the grand dukes, who now lined up with the Progressive Bloc. In late October, before the Duma had met, Nicholas spent some days in Kiev with his mother and several relatives, who warned him against the influence of his wife and Rasputin.85 On November 1, he received at headquarters Grand Duke Nikolai Mikhailovich, who, besides being a well-known amateur historian, took pride in his reputation as the most radical of the Romanovs, the Russian Philippe-Egalité. He brought a letter addressed to the Tsar in which he implored him to be rid of Rasputin. But he went further, alluding to the evil influence of the Empress, an issue obviously of the greatest delicacy:
You trust Alexandra Fedorovna, this is quite natural. Still, what she tells you is not the truth; she is only repeating what has been cleverly insinuated to her. If you are not able to remove this influence from her, at least protect yourself from constant systematic maneuvers attempted through the intermediacy of the wife you love.… When the hour comes—and it is already near—from the height of the throne you could make the ministers responsible to yourself and to the legislative institutions, and to do that simply, naturally, without pressure from the outside, and differently from the memorable act of October 17, 1905…. You stand on the eve of an era of new troubles, on the eve of an era of outrages [attentats.] Believe me, if I insist so much of your freeing yourself from the chains that have been forged, I do so … only in the hope of saving you and saving the throne of our dear country from the irreparable.86
Without bothering to read it, Nicholas forwarded the letter to Alexandra, whom it sent into a paroxysm of rage: she asked that Nikolai Mikhailovich be exiled from Petrograd.87
On November 7, the Tsar received Grand Duke Nikolai Nikolaevich, now in command of the Caucasian Front, who urged him to let the Duma choose the cabinet.88 Incredibly, even the United Nobility, the staunchest pillar of the monarchy, passed in Moscow and in Petrograd resolutions supporting the program of the Progressive Bloc.89 Indeed, it would be difficult to find any prominent individual or group, including those on the most conservative, nationalist end of the political spectrum, who did not join in the clamor for fundamental changes in the structure and personnel of the government.
Stürmer felt justified, not only on personal grounds but also those of state security, to request that the Duma be dissolved and Miliukov placed under arrest.90 But he did not find the support he had expected: the Tsar and the cabinet were paralyzed with fear. In the Council of Ministers only Protopopov sided with him. The others wanted to avoid anything rash. Nicholas did not want a break with the Duma and sought to appease it without giving in on the critical issue of a responsible ministry. On November 4 he sent the Ministers of War and of the Navy to the Duma to deliver conciliatory speeches.91 Alexandra was urging him to stand firm, but Nicholas no longer had the will. So instead of defending his Prime Minister against slanderous accusations—whose real target was the Crown—he decided to sacrifice him and put in his place someone more acceptable to the Duma. On November 8, Stürmer was dismissed. He never understood what had happened to him, why he was accused of treason which he had not committed, and why the Tsar did not defend him against these false charges. Shortly afterward, the French Ambassador saw him on the street, shuffling along, lost in thought.92 He died the following year, a broken man.
The Duma rejoiced over Stunner’s dismissal, which it took as proof that no minister whom it did not want could stay in office.93 This feeling received encouragement from the appointment, as Stunner’s successor, of the Minister of Transport, A. F. Trepov. The new Prime Minister, relatively young (fifty-two) by the standards of the late Imperial government—which saw in dotage assurance of loyalty—descended of an old servitor family. He wanted to emulate Stolypin, being similarly convinced that Russia could no longer be properly governed without the parliament’s cooperation. To secure it, he was prepared to make far-reaching concessions: forming a cabinet acceptable to the Duma, putting a stop to legislating through Article 87, and improving the status of workers, Jews, and Finns.94 In private meetings with Duma leaders during the recess (November 6–17), he obtained promises of support, on condition that he get rid of Protopopov.
In the first half of November 1916, Nicholas, for all practical purposes, capitulated to revolutionary demands; to his entourage he appeared apathetic and indifferent.95 If Russia’s liberal politicians had been able to view the situation rationally, they would have realized that they had achieved, in substance if not in form, their principal demands. By firing Stürmer for no good cause and replacing him with a Prime Minister amenable to the program of the Progressive Bloc, by keeping the revolutionary Duma in session instead of dissolving it, the Tsar had surrendered to the opposition. But the opposition, smelling blood, wanted more.
For all his good intentions, therefore, Trepov had little success. On November 19, when the Duma reconvened, he delivered to it a programmatic speech. The left, led by Kerensky and Chkheidze, received him with abusive screams that went on for forty minutes during which he could not utter a word.* When order was finally restored, he gave a conciliatory address very reminiscent, in tone and content, of Stolypin’s Duma speeches. He promised to put an end to illegality. He asked for help:
Let us forget our quarrels, let us postpone our feuds.… In the name of the government, I declare directly and openly that it wishes to commit its energies to constructive, pragmatic work in cooperation with the legislature.96
The duty of patriots was not to destroy the government but to strengthen it. Trepov used the occasion to reveal that the Allies had promised Russia Constantinople and the Straits.
It was to no avail. Heckled and disrupted, Trepov faced an audience that spurned conciliation: now that Stürmer had been sacrificed, it wanted Protopopov’s head. When he had finished, Vladimir Purishkevich asked for the floor. Cheered on by the socialists, this extreme monarchist demanded that the government cease “selling Russia out to the Germans” and rid itself of Rasputin and “Rasputinism.”
The sessions that followed gave no sign that passions were cooling. The radical deputies now shed such few inhibitions as had constrained them in the past and openly incited the country to rebellion. The Mensheviks and the other socialists walked out of parliament on December 2, after the Progressive Bloc had unanimously supported the government’s rejection of German proposals for a separate peace. Two weeks later, Kerensky exhorted the population to disobey the government.97