The plenary sessions of the Soviet, the first of which took place on February 28, resembled a giant village assembly: it was as if the factories and barracks had sent their bol’shaki They lacked agendas as well as procedures for arriving at decisions: the practice was through open discussion at which everyone who wished to speak had his say to reach a unanimous verdict. Like a village assembly, the Soviet at this stage resembled a school of fish capable of instantly reversing direction in response to an invisible command. Sukhanov thus describes these early gatherings:
“And what’s going on in the Soviet?” I remember asking someone who had come in from beyond the curtain. He waved his hand in a hopeless gesture: “A palaver! Anyone who wants gets up and says whatever he likes …”
I had several occasions to pass through the meeting hall. At first it looked as it had the night before: deputies were sitting on chairs and benches, at the table inside the room, and along the walls; among those in the seats and the aisles, and at each end of the hall, stood people of every description, creating confusion and disrupting the meeting. Then the crowds of standing people became so dense that it was difficult to get through, and they filled up the room to such an extent that those who had chairs also abandoned them, and the entire hall, except for the first rows, became one confused mass of standing people craning their necks.… A few hours later the chairs had completely vanished from the hall, so as not to take up space, and people, dripping with sweat, stood tightly squeezed together. The “Presidium” itself stood on the table, while a whole crowd of enterprising people who had climbed on the table hovered over the chairman’s shoulders, preventing him from running the meeting. The next day or the day after, the tables too had vanished, except for the chairman’s, and the assembly finally acquired the look of a mass meeting in a riding school.* 76
39. K. A. Gvozdev: Menshevik labor leader and one of the founders of the Petrograd Soviet.
Because such a mob could serve no other purpose than to provide a forum for speechmaking, and because, in addition, the intellectuals believed they knew what was best for the “masses,” the decision-making authority of the Soviet quickly shifted to the Ispolkom. This body, however, was not representative of the workers and soldiers, for its members were not elected by the Soviet but, as in 1905, nominated by the socialist parties. Members of the Ispolkom represented not the workers and soldiers but their respective party organizations, and could be replaced at any time by others from these parties. This was a deliberate policy of the radical intellectuals, as the following incident illustrates. On March 19, the Soldiers’ Section voted to enlarge the Ispolkom by adding nine soldiers and nine workers. The Ispolkom rejected this proposal on the grounds that its enlargement would take place at the All-Russian Consultation of Soviets scheduled to meet at the end of the month.77 The intellectuals who ran the Ispolkom even sought to keep its composition secret. They released the names of its members only at the end of March, after leaflets appeared on the streets of Petrograd demanding that its composition be made public*
40. Soldier section of the Petrograd Soviet meeting in the State Duma.
Rather than serving as the executive organ of the Soviet, therefore, the Ispolkom was a coordinating body of socialist parties, superimposed on the Soviet and speaking in its name. The Ispolkom’s earliest cooptation occurred on March 6, when it invited the Party of Popular Socialists to send a spokesman. Two days later a Socialist-Revolutionary was added to represent a group calling itself “Republican Officers.” On March 11, the Social-Democratic Party of Poland and Lithuania and that of Latvia were accorded one place each. On March 15, a Bolshevik delegate was added. This manner of staffing the Ispolkom became formalized on March 18 with the adoption of the principle that every socialist party had a right to three seats: two from its Central Committee and one from its local organizations.†
The principle had three consequences. It expanded artificially the representation of the Bolshevik Party, which had a small following among the workers and virtually none among the soldiers. It strengthened as well that of the moderate socialists, which had the effect of giving the Ispolkom a political complexion that in time would put it at odds with the country’s increasingly radical mood. And, most importantly, it bureaucratized the Ispolkom: this self-appointed executive organ of the “worker and soldier masses” became in effect a committee of radical intellectuals, with hardly a worker or soldier in its midst—intellectuals who pursued their own visions and ambitions:
The bureaucratic divestiture for the benefit of organizations proceeded irreversibly. Representation was set by virtue of adherence to an organization, not by virtue of elections, which existed only for show. Yet nothing indicates that these democrats meant consciously to violate or parody democratic procedures. No protest or discussion disturbed the atmosphere of unanimity, except over the number of representatives who were to be admitted and the choice of organizations defined as “representative.” Over this, there developed a veritable political struggle. The Bolshevik proposal was intended to double the number of their representatives, to assure them of a surplus of votes through the addition of Latvian Bolsheviks. The representatives of the other organizations did not object: all in all, this procedure assured the non-Bolsheviks in equal measure of an even more consistent surplus of those elected. In that manner, every tendency and every subtendency of Social Democracy or of the SRs had a right to two representatives in the bureau, even if behind it stood no more than a handful of activists. Conversely, the thousands of soldiers and workers who had really made February, disappeared] forever from the scene. Henceforth, the “representatives” [spoke] in their name.78
41. Executive Committee (Ispolkom) of the Petrograd Soviet. In front, holding briefcase, N. D. Sokolov. On his left, leaning forward, N. S. Chkheidze.
Surprisingly, the gatherings of the Ispolkom, although involving small numbers of politically literate persons, were not much more orderly than those of the Soviet at large—at any rate, in the first weeks of its existence. As described by the representative of the Trudoviki, V. B. Stankevich, they also were a madhouse:
At this time, the Ispolkom carried extraordinary weight and importance. Formally it represented only Petrograd, but in fact it was the revolutionary organ of all Russia, the highest authoritative institution which was everywhere listened to with intense attention as the guide and leader of the insurgent people. But this was complete illusion. There was no leadership and there could not have been any.…
The meetings took place daily beginning at 1 p.m., sometimes earlier, and ran late into the night, except when the Soviet was in session and the Ispolkom, usually in a body, went over to join it. The agenda was usually set by the “commune” [mir], but it was very rare not only for all items on it but even for a single issue to be resolved, insofar as during the sessions there always emerged extraneous questions, which had to be dealt with outside the agenda.… Issues had to be resolved under the pressure of an extraordinary mass of delegates and petition-bearers from the Petrograd garrison, from the front, from the backwaters of Russia. All these delegates demanded, no matter what, to be heard at the plenary session of the Ispolkom, for they were unwilling to deal with individual members or commissions. When the Soviet met as an entity or in its Soldiers’ Section, affairs disintegrated catastrophically.…