The First State Duma, 1906: the view from the contemporary pamphlet and monograph literature.
The source base was collected as a discrete genre that allowed a more considered and often very lengthy analysis than that offered by newspapers, (4) diaries and letters. (5) The sheer volume of qualifying literature came as a surprise, gathered over the course of many years from libraries in Russia, Western Europe, Scandinavia, Japan, and the USA. This is an indication of a "publishing revolution" that accompanied the first Russian Revolution in conditions of relaxed or avoided censorship. Furthermore, no other Duma attracted such a voluminous pamphlet response; an indication that for contemporaries the battles over what a constitutional Russia would entail were fought out and resolved around the first Duma.
The first Duma sat as the pattern of discontent typical of the 1905 Revolution continued. The parliamentary sessions were intimately linked to on-going societal disturbance and pressing political demands. One could write a rich narrative history of the first Duma out of the contemporary pamphlets and monographs. Key documents receive extensive exposition or are reproduced in full. Although the detail can be much fuller than that in the existing secondary works, it is not our concern. Enough is known for a factual account to be put aside. (6) Our focus is on the contemporary analysis.
There is a range of writings, from those penned as events in the Duma unfolded to retrospective accounts issued over a year after its dispersal. There is also a plurality of perspectives. The Party of People's Freedom, better known as the Constitutional Democrats (hereafter Kadets), was keen to defend the First Duma's record. Party members who were Duma deputies produced individual and collective works. Leading contributors included V.D Nabokov (1869-1922) and A.A. Mukhanov (1860-1907), representing the St. Petersburg and Chemigovskii provinces, who co-edited a three-volume scholarly study of the first Duma. M.M. Vinaver (1863-1926), also elected in the St. Petersburg province, produced a more partisan work that praised his party for its stabilizing influence between the extremes of government and the Trudovik Group (hereafter Trudoviks).
The same is true of other political bodies, especially the radical peasant-based Trudoviks. Trudovik intellectuals penned substantial monographs that made no claim to objectivity (the authors admitted their closeness to events and partisan outlooks), but which could equally not be dismissed for being purely factional. Key examples were the writings of two Trudoviks elected from Samarskaia province: Professor T.V. Lokot (1869-?) who had several volumes of several hundred pages published and S.I. Bondarev (1872-1944).
Moving "rightwards" the moderate Octobrists (7) had one prominent contributor to this literature, former Professor of History at Moscow University V.I. Ger'e (1837-1919). He was not a deputy in the first Duma but went on to represent the Octobrists in its successor. The extreme "Right," including the Black Hundreds, are absent from our bibliography. Why the hard "Right" did not contribute to the voluminous literature is unclear, but this lacuna leaves an obvious imprint on our source base. It is largely a forum in which the Kadets and the Trudoviks contested ownership of the Duma's history, both between and within themselves. This will be one of our major themes from which much can be learnt about inter- and intrafactional disputes. It also sheds additional light on the under-studied Trudoviks.
The issues surrounding authorship and bias notwithstanding, the intention of this research was to discover the extent to which the contemporary literature moved beyond polemics to become an emerging political science. Did it identify and comment upon what we today would recognise as the major themes of the democratisation of authoritarian regimes, including party formation and identity, the selection and election of deputies, the rule of law, the role of civil society, and the battle of legitimate interests in the framing and making of laws? Who was to blame for the dissolution and with what consequences for the future development of Russian constitutionalism? It is odd that to date the pamphlets and monographs produced within Russia on the first Duma have largely been overlooked. (8)
If contemporary authors considered the first Duma worthy of analysis, it had first to be established that it was a genuine representative parliamentary body. This was neither obvious nor uncontentious. There were objections that, for example, the Tsar remained an autocrat. (9) Furthermore the government had in various ways controlled the elections via complicated procedures, franchise restrictions, and electoral fraud. (10) Such was the anger against a "sham constitutionalism" that some activists, especially in the socialist camp, demanded an election boycott. (11) For at least one Marxist commentator so limited was the number of electors that did vote that the Duma could claim no particular link to "the people." Its isolation from the masses would condemn the Duma to be a weak and feeble institution. (12)
Had the boycott been widespread the Duma's claim to be a "people's body" would have been fatally undermined from the outset. It was important for many writers to stress that the boycott was limited and that its proponents had next to no influence on the Duma. Even the undoubted and well documented irregularities and interference from the state bureaucracy did not prevent a representation of the elections as a genuine expression of the vox populi. (13) The construction of a discourse in which the Duma was presented as the bearer of the people's will, of its hopes and of its grief, and of its "moral authority," started with the claim that the Duma deputies had a close if not unbreakable link with the narod first established in the electoral process, even if Kadets and Trudoviks disputed who had emerged the winner.
In general the electorate's mood was described as "openly oppositional." Despite a range of government measures to promote pro-regime candidates, only those who reflected the outlook of the people would stand a chance of election. This did however take on regional and local characteristics. In the urban centres, for example, the Kadets dominated. The Kadets were, according to one commentator, the only organised, well-known force with a broad programme. It could rely upon a volunteer force to get the party's message across, driven by a groundswell of popular enthusiasm. The Kadets published election materials and paraphernalia, including green cockades that were worn with pride by women, men, and children. Right-wing opponents, in sad contrast, had to hire campaigners. (14) The Kadets also, it was claimed, showed a generosity and maturity in trying to ensure that representation was as broad as possible. In the towns and cities some of their mandates were given-up to allow workers' representation. (15) The party's influence did not stretch, it was admitted, into Russia's villages; Kadet analysts labelled the nonurban voters "less advanced" and therefore likely to opt for candidates with no party allegiance.
The version of a Kadet electoral "victory" did not go uncontested. Critics argued that its success was as much about the government banning the Social Democrats from campaigning as a strong Kadet presence. Furthermore, from the results one should not assume that the electorate supported the Kadet programme, most of which it had not read. The Kadets were simply the most convenient vehicle for the people to push the demands of universal suffrage and a Constituent Assembly. In this way the Kadets had a radical agenda thrust upon them, from below, that was far to the left of the party's preferences and of the interests of its social base in the professions and the intelligentsia. Post-election the Kadets were in serious threat of a split between elements that would wish to back the people's demands and traditional members that desired more limited reform within a constitutional monarchy. For this reason, the elections had potentially undermined and weakened the Kadets. In any event it was unlikely that the Kadets would be firm champions of the people's cause in the Duma. (16)
Trudovik writers objected to the Kadet view of the non-urban electorate as "backward," a reflection of a long-standing "intellectual" prejudice against the muzhik. If one listened to the "simple language" of the peasants, if one accepted them as citizens, one would see that abstract notions of civil rights, the importance of the four-tail suffrage (equal, direct, secret, universal), of a unicameral legislature with control over the budget, were just as embedded in the popular consciousness as bread and butter issues. Indeed, the "people" were more confident in pursuing a fundamental political, social and economic agenda than the intelligentsia. This was why the Russian Revolution had to be a "people's revolution," in which the narod was ahead of the intellectuals and determined the political agenda more than their "betters." In a Trudovik narrative peasant electors were incredibly aware and involved, making conscious choices for individual candidates instead of parties, not because of "backwardness," but out of preference for candidates who could speak peasant demands in a clear tongue. (17) The union of representative and electorate was cemented post-election. Whole villages would turn out to see their deputy off to the capital. So strong was the emotion of these gatherings that many were reduced to tears. (18) Speeches were made; a mandate (nakaz) could be passed to the winner from his constituents. The deputy was then honour bound to reflect the nakaz in parliament. (19) The Duma was therefore not only a genuine expression of the people's demands and hopes; it was also a confirmation that the narod was not dark, ignorant and passive, but conscious and active.
Some members of the elite were unimpressed by the electoral choices. Prince S.E. Kryzhanovskii (1861-1934), a state official in the Ministry of the Interior, described the Duma's deputies at the State Opening as a "group of savages." This has become an oft-used quote, sometimes to explain why the government could not tolerate the first Duma. (20) This contrasts with the undoubted triumph of the deputies and their links to the people in contemporary publications. Handsome volumes were issued that contained deputies' photographs and brief biographical entries, covering date of birth, parental background, education, work and political career, including any time spent in prison or in administrative exile, and political affiliation or prominent concerns or views. (21) As well as stenographic reports of sessions, abridged versions of speeches were compiled, illustrating both points of view on leading policies and examples of the level of oratory. (22) Certain deputies acquired national and international fame. (23) All deputies, it was claimed, took their role as the people's representatives very much to heart. The deputies were noted for their seriousness and responsibility, being the embodiment of the moral authority that characterised ordinary Russians and their sufferings. A profile of the deputy composition was undertaken as an interesting task in itself and also to refute some common misconceptions about whether the elected chamber was under the undue influence of sectional interests. Above all, the Duma was put in a positive light as the best possible representative of the people and fit for purpose.
Analyses of the Duma's composition were undertaken at the time according to age, education, belief, nationality, and occupation. (24) With an average age of 40 the deputies were more youthful than the State Council by a decade. This comparison held internationally: in Germany and France only 5 per cent of elected representatives were under 35, in the Duma it was 20 per cent. A further reason for the tense relationship between the Duma and other branches of the political system could therefore be explained by "generational conflict."
As well as being youthful, the deputies were much better educated than Russian society as a whole. Given that the majority of electors were peasants, this was interpreted as evidence that citizens had taken the elections very seriously: there was a conscious attempt to elect those of the best intellect.
By faith and nationality the Duma was overwhelmingly Russian and Orthodox, with the next largest groups being the also over-represented Poles and Catholics. The higher cultural level of the Polish people was used to explain the relative abundance of Poles in the Duma, evidenced by the election of Polish professors in Russian towns. Beyond the undoubted domination of Russians the fact that representation at the tail encompassed many faiths and nationalities (as many as 13 national groups had 1 per cent or less) was used to prove two points. The diversity of the Empire was reflected in the Duma's ability to claim to be All-Russian. After the opening address the Poles, Lithuanians, Ukrainians and Tatars continued to attend in national costume. Second, attempts to discredit the Duma as revolutionary because of a supposed Polish-Jewish if not foreign composition were simply unfounded.
A peculiarity of Russia was the division of society, and of the electoral system into estates. The majority of deputies were drawn from the gentry (36.7 per cent) and from the peasantry (45.5 per cent). These figures were deemed sufficient to refute "Left" representations of the Duma as an elite body that would ignore the needs of the poor, and "Right" critiques of the Duma as a meeting house of the rabble. A much more accurate picture of the Duma would be achieved one could argue through an analysis by occupation. If deputies registered themselves as from eight estates, there were over twenty distinctions by profession, including broad categories that could, in turn, have been sub-divided. By profession, for example, peasants were no longer the dominant group. A more nuanced analysis would distinguish between "peasants according to passport" but already clearly belonging to another group and the genuine "farmer-ploughman." On this calculation peasants composed one-third of the Duma. As still one of the largest single groups peasant deputies attracted attention. For some analysts they were the most naive members regarding the Duma's power and were the most confused about the meaning of constitutionalism. They came to the Tauride Palace, where the Duma sat, it was claimed, thinking that the Duma alone could issue laws to solve the country's problems. They requested that the Duma solve local disputes against a land captain or landlord without any appreciation of the broader legal or legislative framework. (25)
The other dominant occupations were landowners (25 per cent) and the professions (25 per cent). There were also fourteen priests, or 3.3 per cent of the Duma. This was the same figure as for workers, whose under representation was confirmed (5.6 per cent of the population). These figures were interpreted positively both domestically and in international comparison. The weak presence of workers apart, the Duma in its make-up was viewed as almost perfect to carry out the task of putting Russia onto a firm constitutional path. All occupations were to be found within its walls. It had the combination of:
On the one hand, leading landed interests, the most prominent publicists and actors, individuals with state experience, the best legal minds and learned humanists and on the other clear and firm representatives of the peasants' sufferings, of the people's needs and torments. (26)
Furthermore the fact that the large and medium sized landowners were mainly in the Kadets and that it was precisely this party that advocated forced acquisition of land to remedy peasant land hunger showed sectional interest was not gaining the upper hand. Deputies considered issues on their merit, not according to class or estate interest. Finally, in comparison with the Japanese, French, German, and British parliaments, the Duma stood out for two reasons. Manual dominated over mental labour (in other words, it was less an elite affair) and in general there was a far better reflection of the balance of occupations in society in the elected chamber.
It was a common theme then to contrast a first Duma of the people, by the people, and for the people with an aloof and unpopular elite. This is also apparent from accounts of the Duma's opening. The "historic day" that dominates most interpretations is described in some detail and, on occasion, to great literary effect. (27) At the Tauride Palace a crowd of 6,000 gathered to greet deputies. There was a festive mood; the Duma was on everyone's lips. The provinces were not excluded. The idea of representation was popular across Russia; telegrams of welcome and congratulation were received from all comers. In no way was the Duma seen as the elite's puppet, for the deputies had immunity from prosecution. The adulation of the elected deputies stood in marked contrast to the inattention given to the State Council. The masses' sympathies were not hidden in their hearts but apparent from the street:
Such was the public's feelings about the new institutions. The Duma was a favourite daughter, the State Council an outcast. The square in front of the State Council's building was always empty. (28)
This dualism was also noticed when the deputies finally stood in front of the Tsar and the Imperial entourage. (29) There was the "official world" draped in gold, stars, and brilliance, and the "people's world" in peasant dress and national costumes. The latter's expectations were immense but clear:
Everyone felt that something great had to be accomplished. All formalities had to be put aside. There, beyond the gates of the Palace in which, as the sun is reflected in a drop of water, the grief and tears of a whole nation is reflected, stand the people who demand the liberation of all those who fought for freedom realising that what yesterday was considered a crime is today thought of as a civic duty. (30)
Three events dominated our authors' attention to the very early history of the first Duma: the Tsar's address at the State Opening, the decision to debate and pass a Reply to the Throne (5 May), and the Declaration from the Council of Ministers (13 May). The odd exception notwithstanding, (31) the Tsar was criticised for ignoring all of the pressing issues. (32) The Duma's Reply brought forth more concentrated focus and diverse commentary in which we witness a common mixture of party polemics and nascent political science. The Reply was the Duma's first public act, when interest in its opening moves was high. Most of the early sessions were given over to a debate on the Reply. The Reply was also noteworthy because it was the document in which the Duma defined its expectations, outlook, and programme in general outline. (33) Some commentators discern the beginnings of party differentiation in the exchanges, with the Right revealing its lack of numbers, the Kadets dominating, and the Left beginning to make an impression. (34) The debates were long, partly because deputies wanted to voice their experiences: "We heard whole dissertations about the Bashkir and Khirgiz lands, about the situation of the Don Cossacks, about the distribution of land between Baltic pastors and their parishioners, and so on ... an ovation was given to a deputy who implored colleagues to spare their listeners." (35) The chamber was reminded that what was under discussion was a statement of general principles and intent and that detail would be returned to when individual laws came up for discussion. There was, as several noted, a learning curve about how to behave in parliament.
The Reply eventually received unanimous approval in the Duma; its detractors agreeing to leave the chamber rather than vote against. It did not elicit such universality amongst contemporary commentators. For its detractors several mistakes were made. To begin with, no thanks were offered to Nicholas II for what had been an innovation in the autocracy on a par with the changes wrought by Peter the Great. The whole tone of the document was misjudged in terms of an address to the monarch. Indeed, rather than acting as a supplicant, with the necessary deference and humility, the Duma was claiming for itself the role of chief actor in the law making process. The deputies had quickly forgotten or not understood that what had been brought into existence was a "constitutional monarchy" on the basis of the Fundamental Laws. The deputies wanted, and seemed to be operating as though they had, a "parliamentary monarchy." In the context of the former the latter was a revolutionary demand based on exaggerated notions of powers invested in the lower house: "Democrats are not immune from the disease that afflicted the young Caesar!" (36)
For others the Reply had not gone far enough. One of the first points mentioned "universal suffrage," but not equal, direct and secret. No doubt should have been apparent over the four-tail suffrage. Given that Russia had lost disastrously in the war with Japan, there was a clear demand for a Commission of Enquiry. Why was the army so poorly supplied? Rather than simply highlight the bureaucracy's "arbitrary rule" there should have been a demand for civil servants to be brought to trial and for official investigations into all cases in which soldiers had fired upon civilians. Bloody Sunday 1905 was not an isolated occurrence; there were troubling incidents to answer for in Moscow, Siberia, in the Baltic and in the Cossack lands. (37) For a leading Trudovik, the Reply was notable for two reasons. First, it was couched in "bureaucratic" phrases rather than in the "simple and direct" language of the people. This divorced the Duma from its main source of support, its intimate link with the masses. It also let the government off the hook. Second, the Reply was an early example of the Kadet desire to avoid conflict, to seek compromise and calm. This tactic paralysed the Duma. (38)
Kadet authors launched a staunch defence. It was simply nonsensical, they argued, to interpret the Reply as a bid for absolute power. The Duma recognised the sovereign's right to initiate any reconsideration of the Fundamental Laws--the Reply was precisely that, a request and not a demand. Given that the Fundamental Laws could only be examined on the Tsar's word, the Duma had to be honest with the monarch and point out the many areas of state policy that were crying out for change: "the Fundamental Laws are not an eternal article of faith; their discussion should not be taken for a heresy ... A Ministry responsible to parliament, as is clear from the example of Western European states, does not turn the Tsar into a stone statue." (39) Moreover, the Duma pinpointed the reforms necessary not only to bring Russia to a genuine constitutional order, but also to unify the people's representatives and the monarch. In this sense the Duma should be applauded for its awareness of the country's needs and for its patriotism in equal measure. The most glowing of accounts stated:
5 May should be without question recalled as the greatest testimony to the state Duma's short lived existence ... it expressed in a defined, clear, and forceful way the people's demands ... it was a constructive and valuable political programme whose realisation would have firmly put in place a legal order guaranteeing political freedom and political rights and root and branch social reform. (40)
The Reply was seen as a success for the Kadets. It struck the right balance: a forceful statement of intent without being revolutionary. It increased the party's popularity in the country. It was read widely and appreciated by the masses. Even some critics were sympathetic. The Reply was viewed abroad as a sign of the political maturity of the party that developed it. (41) There was finally an appeal to a Whig version of the modern evolution of states into liberal democracies: "The Duma was obliged not to delay History's onward march." (42)
The appeal to immediate reality and a broader historical-philosophical sweep did not elicit a response from Nicholas II. He passed the Reply to the Council of Ministers. Its Declaration, read out by Prime Minister I. Goremykin (1839-1917), (43) united Duma analysts in a negative reaction. Part of the problem was who was replying. Count Witte (1849-1915) had been sacked before the Duma met, to be replaced by Goremykin's Cabinet on 24 April. There is no evidence to suggest that this ministerial reshuffle was designed with positive intentions towards the new institutional arrangements. On the contrary, as one contemporary commentator put it: "It would have been difficult to conjure up names from among the ruling bureaucracy less popular, less likely to impress the Duma and less able to inspire trust in the government." (44) The way in which the Council of Ministers' declaration was read out also seemed to jar on the deputies' nerves. From 27 April to 13 May the seats reserved for ministers in the Duma had been empty. The Cabinet had made no attempt to acquaint itself with the work of the new parliament. It then criticised the Duma, pointing out what it could not do rather than what it could, in a highhanded arrogant manner. (45) Its very language revealed old habits of unlimited power, employing "unclear and ill-defined terms or expressions that were a slur on the dignity of people's representatives." (46) For Trudovik writers, this was another example of the clash of language that separated bureaucrats and peasants. The Ministers had simply alienated the non-party peasants and helped to create conditions in which Trudovik influence would increase over the Kadets. (47)
Most analysis of the Council of Ministers' declaration pointed out why the deputies were infuriated. It seemed as though the Duma's right to initiate legislation had been thrown into doubt. In rejecting the Duma's approach to the land question, even before a proper debate had begun, the Council of Ministers was in fact usurping the Fundamental Laws for itself. By what right could it beforehand determine the outline of a likely land act when no bill should become law without the Duma's consent? Similarly how could it place limits on how rights and freedoms would be interpreted? The Declaration of the Council of Ministers had ipso facto rejected the Duma's legitimate demands for land and liberty that were supported by the whole country. Over agrarian change, the Ministers had shown their ignorance of the depth of the rural crisis if they believed that resettlement and further Land Bank activity were sufficient. No-one in the Duma thought thus. It was also wrong to confuse compulsory purchase of private land with an attack on private property per se. Governments everywhere, including in the bastion of private property Great Britain, reserved the right to issue compulsory purchase orders in the interest of good governance. The Council of Ministers had clearly forgotten the terms of the famous Emancipation of the Serfs! (48)
Furthermore, if the people's will could not be expressed in parliament and have a hope of reaching the statute books, then was not the Council of Ministers inviting revolutionary action? Had not their declaration of 13 May served to inflame the country? The Council of Ministers simply did not seem to have appreciated or understood that the Duma's Reply was real, thoughtful, and completely necessary. The executive had failed to give the Duma's address the careful reading and consideration that it deserved. All of the Reply's points had been rejected. The government clearly intended to rule the country in the old way. All shades of opinion and all estates were appalled. Goremykin received not a single vote in his favour. (49) The Duma deputies' outrage was an expression of deep programmatic differences but also a reflection of their belief that as bearers of the people's will, it fell to them to have the dominant voice to which the Council of Ministers should adapt and not vice versa. (50)
The Duma answered the Council of Ministers first with silence and then with a vote of no confidence. It was established for most writers that any potential for co-operation between the State Duma and the Council of Ministers, let alone the State Council and the Tsar, was largely lost. (51) Conflict would dominate future relations between the Council of Ministers and the Duma. (52) For some the Council of Ministers had an agreed strategy of obstruction; it would delay the Duma's initiatives, particularly over land reform, as best it could. (53) For others, the various declarations up to 13 May had revealed the enormous gulf that separated the Duma from the Council of Ministers over what a constitutional order entailed and how radical political and social reform had to be in contemporary Russia. There was simply a clash here of "old" and "new" Russia; the former seeking to preserve absolutism and the privileges of the bureaucratic caste, the latter heralding civilised constitutionalism. At least this choice was presented point-blank. (54)
Henceforth the Council of Ministers and the Duma would live separate lives, however much constitutional obligations brought them into contact (55) Condemned to isolation, some analysts argued that already the Duma's essential powerlessness when faced with executive intransigence had been revealed. There was a shock here for deputies of all shades of thinking. The Left reckoned that the government would offer some concessions to the will and power of the people, expressed in a unanimous vote. The moderate Right believed that the government wanted to work with the deputies and would meet their just demands. 13 May shattered all such illusions. The Council of Ministers wanted to give nothing and nothing changed after the vote of no confidence. Indeed the Duma could have made a tactical mistake. Why bother trying to bring ministers to the Duma to answer questions when beforehand no trust had been announced? Also the demand for the ministers to resign, which tended to greet them in their rare appearances in the Duma, replaced or obscured the call for a responsible ministry. (56)
There was thus a general recognition that within three weeks of its opening the first Duma was in an irretrievably broken relationship with its legislative partners. This did not condemn the first Duma to inactivity; nor did it prevent serious analysis of its composition and achievements. An emerging Russian political science was interested, for example, in the formation of political parties that had previously been hindered in Russia by legal restrictions. In the run-up to the elections to the Duma only a few parties could claim the attributes of a political party--programmes, membership, publications etc. and this largely because of emigre and underground activities. These included socialist (the RSDLP), national (Polish), and liberal (Kadet) trends. There was a surge of pluralism in the Russia of 1905 onwards. One brochure contained the programmes of numerous parties, leagues, and groups. (57) The main political factions in the Duma were much fewer. Party and faction loyalties were fluid and could overlap. Most commentators agree that by the Duma's closure the process of party and group crystallisation had by no means finalised. (58) There were however' conflicting evaluations of what processes of formation and reformation were under way and of their relative strengths and weaknesses.
The main forms of classification followed a by now familiar pattern of ideological and class demarcation. One historian has claimed that the largest group was peasants who in fact had no party allegiance. (59) Contemporaries noted the existence of 105 non-party deputies, the majority of whom were peasants. However, apart from 45 of these who remained without a party label, the rest were adjudged to lean towards one identity or another. On the moderate Right stood the Octobrists (thirteen plus twelve non-party) and the national Polish organisation (it voted with the Left only on the issue of autonomy). The Party of Democratic Reform (PDR) occupied the Centre-Right. It had few members (six plus fourteen non-party) but had a prominence because of the intellectual brilliance of its leaders that included the deputy from Kharkov province, the eminent jurist and historian M.M. Kovalevskii. It was the natural alternative to anyone disgruntled with the left-leaning centre (Kadet). The zemstvo activist representing Saratov province N.N. L'vov (1867-1944), for example, abandoned the Kadets for the PDR out of unease over the radicalism of the Kadet agrarian programme. Nevertheless the PDR tended to vote with the Kadets. The Kadets had the largest single number of deputies (61) plus 25 non-party). The Duma is often accepted as a Kadet parliament because this party supplied the chair of most of its working committees. Legislative initiatives also came largely from the Kadet's programme. The next largest grouping was on the Left. The Trudoviks were formed in the days immediately preceding the Duma's opening, on the initiative of deputies from Saratov province A.F. Aladin (1873-1927) and S.V. Anikin (1868-1919). The Trudoviks initially had no programme. Its 107 deputies (plus nine non-party) were united by a mood of hostile opposition to the established order.
The presence and formation of groups and parties was a key part of the Duma's history, but contemporaries noted that it took the parliament some time to adapt its arrangements accordingly. In the first sessions deputies did not, for example, take their seats according to party or group loyalty. This was something that developed over time and was undertaken to facilitate debate and to enable party and group meetings. The distribution of physical space had to catch-up with emergence of distinct political colours. Once the notion that the Duma's fundamental divisions were around party and group loyalties had become cemented, contemporaries disputed which of the factions held sway, the main contenders being the Kadets and the Trudoviks.
Within the liberal camp there was a strong divide drawn between the Kadets and Trudoviks. The Kadets, it was claimed, remained a constitutional party, seeking to change Russia through legal means, the framing and making of laws. It was a mature party that brought together people from different social backgrounds. Its ambitions were comprehensive and inclusive, clear from its economic and social policies for peasants and workers, as well as its more traditional focus on general rights and freedoms. Above other parties and groupings it understood how parliaments function. Its emphasis on due process and compromise saved the Duma from the extreme tactics of the Trudoviks. Despite its unease over ministerial unwillingness to answer parliamentary questions, for example, it still recognised the Cabinet and would not bar it from the chamber. Any claim that the Kadets was as revolutionary as the out and out revolutionaries was firmly rebuffed. The RSDLP, for example, wanted a Constituent Assembly to be fought for through revolution. The Duma, for the RSDLP, was to be taken advantage of for agitational purposes towards another end. For the Kadets the Duma was an end in itself, the means by which a proper constitutional order in Russia would be attained. It was therefore nonsense to confuse the Kadets with revolutionaries. Cohesive and cogent as a legal bound party, the history of the first Duma could easily be subsumed within a tract about the Kadets.
For liberal writers, the Trudoviks were the absolute inverse of the Kadets. In no way, for instance, could the Trudoviks be considered a party; it was a disparate collection of sub-groups. One analyst listed within Trudovik ranks: Socialist Revolutionaries (2), Social Democrats (10), Peasant Union (9), non-party socialists (7), almost-Kadet (18), National Autonomists (8), non-party (21), Radical Party (1), Free Thinkers (2), and 27 others. The undoubted tendency of the Trudoviks was to further fracturing. By early July 1906, for example, forty Trudoviks were leaving to form a Peasant Party, and the Social Democrats were organising their own separate faction. By late June the disintegration of the Trudoviks had resulted in a further strengthening of Kadet domination of the Duma and a relative weakening of the Trudoviks.
Divided in their essence, the Kadets and Trudoviks, it was pointed out, also had fundamental differences over tactics. In contrast to" the calm and considered legality advocated by the Kadets, the Trudoviks were confused in their tactics. At first, it thought of the Duma as an all-powerful body whose word was immediately law. When this illusion was shattered, the main tactic developed by the Trudoviks was to use the Duma as a revolutionary tribune to encourage citizens to take direct action, to seize land and freedom for themselves. For this reason, the Trudoviks was less interested in gruelling committee work than in oratory. In this the Trudoviks could claim its successes. Its leaders' sharp expressions, reported in the national and local press that was closely followed by ordinary citizens, became well-known across the country. Trudovik orators became synonymous for some with the Duma.
For Kadet analysts, however, the Trudoviks' chief weakness followed on from their strength: they did not appreciate that deeds would count, not words. The Trudoviks overestimated the power of their speeches to galvanise the nation behind the Duma. This simply did not happen. Ultimately it would be laws that resolved the land question and other pressing matters, not choice phrases. Even on the matter of speeches from the floor of the Duma, in actual fact Kadet orators' more thoughtful interventions were more effective than the overly emotional Trudoviks'. The tactical differences between the Kadets and the Trudoviks, if anything, became more entrenched and sharper over time.
For some Kadet writers the broadening gulf between the Duma's two main forces was not only a battle for supremacy in political terms. It was also an expected outcome explicable through a comparison of their respective social base. The most educated and wealthy tended to gravitate towards the Kadets. In its ranks were nine out the Duma's ten professors, two-thirds of its deputies had higher education, 60 per cent were of noble origin, and 50 per cent of the Duma's large landholders belonged to the Kadets. Trudovik deputies, in contrast, had overwhelmingly minimal or home education, were predominantly from peasant backgrounds (81.3 per cent), over half of whom had little or no land. Although Trudovik leaders were its most educated (one professor, numerous teachers and some lawyers), the fact that most of its deputies came from "the hell that is contemporary Russia" determined its mood and outlook. The despair and anger felt by Trudoviks took the group "well beyond the etiquette of parliamentary struggle." If the Kadets was a party of the mind, the Trudoviks were driven by the heart. (60) If for the Kadets the Duma was the beginnings of a constitutional order bound by legality, for the Trudoviks the Duma was a reincarnation of the Soviet of Workers' Deputies that should act alone, outside of the Fundamental Laws. In this sense for the Trudoviks the Duma did not exist as in a Kadet understanding.
The Kadets and Trudoviks were thus on a Kadet reading about as far apart as one could imagine regarding a comprehension of the Duma and its role and functions. (61) Nevertheless there was no consensus within Kadet ranks about the future course of Kadet-Trudovik relations. Some argued that the Trudoviks was a spent force, disappearing into a range of existing and new parties. (62) Others harboured some resentment against the Trudoviks, claiming that if it had held firm in backing the Kadets, a responsible ministry would have been conceded. It was disunity in the Duma, brought about by unreasonable Trudovik demands that undid the elected parliament's chances of achieving a quantum leap in the constitutionalist cause. (63) Still others, for all their doubts about the Trudoviks, considered that only a further strengthening of Kadet-Trudovik links offered the best option to strengthen constitutionalism in Russia. (64)
Trudovik authors accepted the distinction between a "group" and a "party" and that the Kadets counted as a party and the Trudoviks as a group. This did not mean, however, that the Kadets dominated the Trudoviks. On the contrary it would be wrong to think of the Duma as mainly a Kadet affair. The Kadets were not a firm political party but divided socially and politically into right and left wings, apparent from disputes within the Kadets about policy on the land question. For Trudovik analysts, the Kadets were in the process of splitting into separate parties; a classic liberal constitutionalist party and a left-democratic party. In the Duma the Kadet "democrats" were able to pull the "constitutionalists" leftwards under the pressure of public opinion. So extreme was this leftward shift that the Kadets ceased to reflect its essence: the "European" party became revolutionary against its will. This was why the group that genuinely reflected the mood of the narod from the very outset, the Trudoviks, was able to punch above its numbers in the Duma. Indeed at their most extreme Trudovik writers suggested that the Duma was dominated by the Trudoviks; the only force that had an organic link with the people, clear from the fact that the Trudovik deputies received the most communications from the people throughout the Duma's existence. (65) This was why the Trudoviks never engaged in empty demagogy or why the Trudovik leaders were not exploiting more "backward" peasant deputies or constituents. The people led Trudovik tactics; Trudovik orators at every point reflected the people's demands in the people's language.
For Trudovik writers, the Duma was important not as a legislative body, for which it lacked powers and was in any case resisted by the old order and vested interests. As bearers of the people's oppression and frustrations Trudovik orators sought to give this clear expression. This was why it met ministerial interventions in the Duma with a clatter of noise and anger. (66) The Trudoviks realized that in the clash between parliament and government, only the people could save popular representation. This explained another major Trudovik tactic: to use the Tauride Palace as a stage from which to speak directly to the narod that had to be further aroused and crucially organized. The Trudoviks suggested the formation of public committees over the land and food supply issues with the aim of creating a network of bodies through which the deputies would have a direct organized link with the masses. The public committees could be utilised to mobilize the narod behind the Duma at the hour of need. Unfortunately these demands were not taken up, partly because of Kadet opposition. The Duma's moral superiority was not matched in the organization of physical force. Popular opposition and struggle remained largely spontaneous and dispersed, despite the best efforts of the Trudoviks. (67)
The masses' "spontaneous-revolutionary" condition, according to Trudovik authors, also complicated the formation of political parties. Parties were trying to form in the midst of a complicated struggle between a radical narod and an ultraconservative ancien regime. The Kadets could not evolve as it wished because the stable social and economic prerequisites for its emergence as a West European constitutional party were lacking in Russia. The Duma was devoid of firm political parties but had a fluid political scene in which Left-elements were in the ascendancy across the political spectrum. The absence of firm political parties meant the Duma fell under the sway of a spontaneous-revolutionary popular emotion. The consequences were several. There were no clear political tactics in a parliament that was in the early stages of its political maturation. This hindered the Duma in its work, weakened it, and made it less likely to be able to resist closure. (68) It also guaranteed the continual growth of the Trudoviks and its influence over the chamber and the Kadets. Over half of the non-party peasants joined the Trudoviks; a fact not even noticed by Kadets who remained suspicious of the muzhik. (69)
If there were widely conflicting assessments of the political processes in the first Duma, there was more consensus amongst authors concerned to establish how positively and effectively the elected institution set about its business. The working week accommodated parliamentary sessions, party and group meetings and discussions, dealing with appeals from constituents, and committee work. A usual working day lasted 10-11 hours. Wednesdays and Saturdays were designated committee days. Preparatory work for committees and for debates in the chamber was conducted at party and faction gatherings. These occurred either early morning or late at night and then out of necessity on rest days and holidays. The Duma it was claimed took over the life of its deputies, wearing many of them out and no doubt offending some religious sensibilities. As one deputy recalled: "In 25 years of working life I had never experienced such hard labour--each day to return home at 1 or 2 a.m. totally exhausted." (70) For many analysts it was remarkable how much the Duma managed to achieve in its ten weeks of existence, over three main types of activity.
Thousands of telegrams and other communications had to be considered by a special committee and then turned, when required, into a zapros to the relevant minister or ministry. It was generally recognised that formulating zaprosy took up much time and effort that could have been expended elsewhere. The authorities had a month to reply and then were under no obligation to give a full or satisfactory response. This was, for some, another instance of the Duma's lack off effective power. Nevertheless, through the zaprosy some commentators argued that the deputies were fulfilling an obligation to the country, as well as exposing ministers to some telling home truths. The absence of a meaningful censure motion did not deflect from the fact that the zaprosy made the administration responsible in ways not previously seen. (71)
A second major aspect of the Duma's activity was as a debating chamber. Here it was noted that the Tauride Palace was not a talking shop but the centre of thoughtful and considered discussion. Major progress was made, for instance, in bringing Russia into the modern age. A key example of this was the debate on the death penalty. It was highlighted that in the first five months of 1906, there had been an average of 90 executions per month. This was equivalent to the Great Terror of the French Revolution and higher than in the China of 1906. What further evidence was needed of Russian backwardness? Referring to "civilisation" and to a desire for Russia to become "civilised," on 19 June the Duma resolved to abolish the death penalty and that a moratorium be called on its use until this decision had been ratified by all elements of the law-making process.
The Duma debates were also praised for holding the state to account for administrative misdemeanours. A famous instance of this was the discussion of the Belostok pogrom. The Duma sent an investigative commission of three deputies (including one Jewish deputy). Its report found no evidence of local anti-Semitism but blamed local officials for stirring up trouble. Several days of debate in the Duma included calls for a special commission of enquiry. The Duma was dissolved before the government was due to respond, but contemporaries felt that this should not minimize the importance of debates. The government may not have resigned but freedom of speech was attained. Furthermore, formal equality of citizens was achieved as members of all estates had equal rights and respect on the floor of the Duma.
The most crucial practical aspect of the Duma's work was paradoxically for many given the least attention. The Duma would stand or fall for its impact on legislation and therefore had to make provision for the framing of laws. Deputies were divided into eleven sections, each with its own chair and secretary. Membership of the Duma's permanent and temporary committees were drawn from the eleven sections. The committees were charged with various duties. The Finance Committee investigated state expenditure, the Production Committee considered problems of supply. A range of committees was established to look at specific policy proposals. The largest of these was the Agrarian Committee, with 99 members that held nine sessions from 7 June to 8 July. (72)
The committees, it was argued, faced several obstacles. They were under-resourced, from space to staffing. On occasion several committees had to share the same room and were in session simultaneously. The complex task of constructing legislation had to be undertaken without any input from civil servants. The absence of appropriate support compounded the problem of complexity. The sheer difficulty of drafting good law was emphasised. The Duma could not, for example, simply borrow from foreign democratic statute books. Legislative arrangements on the same issue quite rightly varied across democracies depending upon local custom and circumstance. Robust legislation from the Duma would have to answer how proposed changes would alter existing legislation, as well as demonstrating how it best met Russian peculiarities. If one added the obstacles and the difficulties, what struck analysts was how the Duma left a rich store of draft legislation; for some this was its greatest bequeathal.
Here credit was largely assigned to the Kadets. It was a Kadet tactic to make the Duma above all a legislative institution. It was the Kadets that produced legislative initiatives out of its party meetings. Kadet deputies provided the most chairs and panel members. By the time of dissolution there were draft laws prepared on local elections and administration (rural and urban), assembly, association, citizen equality, freedom of conscience, and on the press. It was also felt that on the most pressing and disputed issue the Agrarian Committee was within a month of presenting concrete proposals. The vote on the abolition of the death penalty was being resisted, but on other matters the Duma had demonstrated that it could co-operate with its co-bodies in legislation. Along with the State Council and the government it had agreed to grant fifteen million roubles to famine relief. (73) In its very short existence, the Duma had therefore proven its competence as a businesslike legislative chamber. (74)
There was no parliamentary gathering for the Duma's closure. Deputies were confident that business was continuing. A report by Interior Minister and future Prime Minister R Stolypin (1862-1911) was planned for the session of Monday 10 July. However on the night of 9 July the Tauride Palace was closed, surrounded by soldiers, and an announcement of the Duma's closure pinned onto its doors. Most deputies read of the end of their status from the official announcement in the Pravitel 'stvennvi Vestnik. A meeting of 8 July of the Senate with Nicholas II in attendance resolved to end the first Duma on the basis of article 105 of the Fundamental Laws. A second parliament would be convened on 20 February 1907, with dates for elections to be announced in the future. (75) On the next day, Sunday 9 July, a short manifesto on the Duma's closure was issued.
The Tsar put the blame for the interlude in people's representation on the deputies' misbehaviour. Instead of the hoped for benefits from suggesting and elaborating new legislation, the Duma had overstepped its brief by investigating the activity of local government and regional authorities. It had poked its nose into matters that were not its concern, most notably the Fundamental Laws. The Duma had engaged in illegal activity, planning to appeal directly to the people on the agrarian question. The Duma had inflamed the population resulting in further peasant disturbances. For Nicholas II Russia's renewal had to happen under the rule of law. His determination was apparent: "We will not permit anyone to usurp our power or to act illegally. The whole force of the state power will be used to subordinate law-breakers to our autocratic will." The message to the second Duma clear: "We await from the new composition of the State Duma the fulfilment of our expectations." (76)
Nicholas II's version of events did not go unchallenged. Rather than a legal and reasonable act, the texts of 8-9 July were unconstitutional if not a "coup d'etat." (77) The State Council and State Duma, for example, were supposed to be treated equally and with equal rights but only the lower chamber had been dissolved. (78) Furthermore, in not announcing the exact timetable for elections the Fundamental Laws had been broken. As it stood, the country would be without elected deputies for over seven months, during which time the government could issue laws. Again the spirit of the 17 October 1905 Manifesto had been broken.
There were objections against the notion that the Duma had planned an appeal to the people over the head of Tsar and government. On 20 June the government information paper carried an announcement from the Council of Ministers outlining how it would resolve the land question along the lines of its declaration of 13 May. This included a refusal of the Duma's intended policy of forced expropriation. This brought forth numerous objections from the Tauride Palace. The Council of Ministers had acted outside the Duma's approval, contrary to the promise of the October Manifesto. It had misrepresented the intended parliamentary land law, whose commission had yet to present its final report. Peasants reading the government paper would be confused as to the Duma's stance on the agrarian question.
The Duma debated how best to react. A quarter of deputies tabled a motion to seek an interpellation. On 26 June the PDR deputy .from Tver province, V.D. Kuz'min-Karavaev (1859-1927), argued that the Duma should issue its own information statement, based on the deliberations of the publication of agrarian committees that had been asked to present reports on what was happening in the Duma on the land question. It was important, in Kuz'min-Karavaev's estimation, to defend the Duma's rights and to pacify the peasantry. A telegram from his local ViceGovernor, for example, told of increased peasant disturbances since the government statement of 20 June. The Vice-Governor requested that the Duma speak directly to the peasantry to calm them. Kuz'min-Karavaev's proposal was accepted. (79)
On 4 July the agrarian committee presented its report. There followed debates about the exact wording of a public statement. The Trudoviks wanted to insert the belief that the will of the Duma would prevail if the narod offered its organised backing. This was rejected. The document to be headed "From the State Duma" was not intended as an appeal or a manifesto but a statement of fact. The final text, passed on 6 July, requested that "the population wait quietly and peacefully until work on a land law has been finalised;" (80) clear proof that the Duma was not acting illegally or calling upon the masses to engage in revolutionary activity. Nicholas II's assertion that in its intended statement the Duma had gone beyond its remit was false. If this was the case, then why had the government not acted against the Duma on 26 June when the idea was first accepted? The government had clearly seized upon the "Appeal" and misused it as a convenient but invented pretext for dispersal. Such was the view of Kuz'min-Karavaev who has been singled out as having special responsibility for the Duma's closure. (81)
If Nicholas II could not be trusted to present an accurate account of the Duma's dispersal, why was the closure order issued? Those most cynical of the government argued that the decision had been taken even before the Duma had met. Russia's ruling elites, unlike the German monarchy, had no tradition of respect for law and legal rights. The Russian bureaucratic elite had no intention of surrendering its power to elected representatives. The issue was always going to be the most opportune moment for closure. The conflict over land reform was deemed to be ideal. For the slightly less cynical, closure was more or less inevitable after the establishment of conflict between the Duma and the Council of Ministers by 13 May. Ministers understood that either they would have to resign or the Duma would have to go. Division in the executive could not be allowed to enter the public realm. The government had to be able to resolve the land question as it saw fit. Deadlock between the Council of Ministers and the Duma had to be resolved in the former's favour. Indeed Stolypin's famous land reforms were issued by emergency decree. It was also suggested that the closure was a reflection of the Duma's success. The Duma had occupied centre-stage of the country's political life, it became a beacon of light for the people who trusted and petitioned it, and it spread the popularity of the parliamentary ideal. The Duma was an important practical school of the masses' political education. Tsarism could not stand idle; the growing link between the Duma and the people had to be broken. (82)
For some analysts, the Duma had invited closure by its inappropriate behaviour. It was too impatient, seeking to establish the supremacy of the lower house in law-making, a process that had taken centuries of struggle in Western Europe, in several months. Its debates were full of threats and insults to the government. The Duma Chair or a majority of members had not controlled revolutionary outbursts. The Duma thought of itself as a "People's Duma" rather than a "State Duma" and stepped beyond the constitution. The drift to the Left was accompanied by an increasing lack of engagement: only 278 deputies attended the vote on the Appeal and out of these 124 were for, 53 against and as many as 101 abstained. The government was thus closing a rump, anti-constitutional Duma unrepresentative even of the majority of its own members. (83) Finally, there was the suggestion that beyond surface incidents and events there lay the deep reason that Russia was simply insufficiently prepared for Western-style constitutionalism. The necessary evolution for government and people to share the same language and expectations had simply not yet run its full course. (84)
Whatever motivated the act of closure, there was also the question why was the government was able to dissolve the Duma so easily? Much had been made of the Duma's connection to the people. Where were the latter at the hour of need? The essential passivity of the people, and most notably of the capital's workers, was noted. (85) There were no worker demonstrations; the bourgeoisie went about their usual business: "the gardens and theatres were just as full on the evening of 9 July as on any other day. Only the increase in patrols, the security at stations, and officers on the beat, gave witness to something unusual happening in the capital." (86) This was testimony for some that the illusion that the Duma was representative of the narod was finally shattered. Deputies tended to make this claim either to increase their individual authority or to show that their party was popular. Little attention was paid to voices that correctly pointed out that the narod was just as divided as the chamber; it was foolish to assume that the masses as one were united and so associated with the Duma that they would leap to its defence. (87)
The absence of popular protest was, for others, a reflection of the bankruptcy of a specifically Left tactic. This had been premised upon a powerful Duma deriving its might from a base in the people. What had been revealed was the absence of any organization of social forces. There could be no popular defence of the Duma because however much the narod desired to help there were no means by which the people could be mobilized. (88) Other commentators pointed to the way in which the Duma's strength had been sapped by criticism of its main support, the Kadets, from the extremes of Left and Right. Such fracturing inside the parliament only aided the government and encouraged the temptation to be rid of this thorn in the executive's side. The persistent rumours of closure up to early July did nothing to unite deputies; if anything they were becoming more disunited. The Left defended itself by claiming that the Kadet refusal to abandon "legality" had opened a gulf between the electorate and the Duma. The people were in fact further to the left and had lost hope in the Kadet "centre" long before the dispersal order. The Kadet "centre's" confidence that there would be no dispersal order became an "illusion" that "hypnotised" the Duma, lulling it to sleep. (89)
Some analysts argued that blame should not be assigned to any faction. One had to recognize the difficult conditions in which the Duma operated. There was a lack of political experience. No party or group had a firm grasp of the Duma's role or potential. Nor could one necessarily have expected a high level of political acumen from parties or groups that were in a state of flux with no firm history or tradition. (90) Finally, there was an appreciation of executive power--the government was master of the situation and far stronger than many had given it credit for. The deputies implicitly recognised their powerlessness by not following the example of the deputies of 1789 France who refused to disperse. (91)
Barred from the Tauride Palace, the Duma deputies did not gather as a full complement to discuss the dissolution order. There are several accounts of what happened next, with differences in emphasis and interpretation. Kadet authors stressed that Kadet political maturity and skill guaranteed it them leading role; the Kadets were simply better prepared and organized than other parties or groups. The Kadet Club was the centre of negotiations that resolved that the Duma should reconvene in Vyborg, in autonomous Finland, to discuss tactics and strategy. The Trudoviks and RSDLP responded by holding party meetings ahead of Vyborg, but followed a Kadet lead.
Trudovik analysts present the decision to reconvene in Vyborg not as a calm and rational response by a party of greater political maturity, but as a profound mistake and the outcome of confusion. All political clubs held meetings after the dispersal order. The Trudoviks and the RSDLP called for a joint meeting of all forces. For Trudoviks and the RSDLP, it was imperative to stay in the capital to resist the government's action. (92) This was the best way to rally the masses and to take advantage of a favourable mood amongst the troops. Unfortunately the Kadets kept stalling joint negotiations and abandoned the capital with an invitation to join them in Vyborg. The proffered security consideration was spurious for Trudovik authors as the authorities could just as easily arrest deputies at railway stations as in the capital. Faced with the departure of the Kadets, the Trudoviks and RSDLP had the choice either to go or to stay. Not at full force themselves, they resolved to go to Vyborg but in a defeatist mood: "Ok, we'll go, but let's be clear, in doing so we bury the people's liberation." (93)
Around one-third of deputies and the Duma's Presidium made the trip to the Hotel Belvedere for what could claim to be the Duma's final session. (94) The Vyborg Manifesto that resulted asked the people to defend constitutionalism by paying no taxes and by ignoring draft papers and any mobilization. This was an attempt to remove the twin props of the autocracy: money and military might.
While many authors see the Vyborg Manifesto as another Kadet initiative, there is a counter-assertion that Trudovik influence could be felt on the Kadets in Vyborg; the resulting declaration was far more radical than if it had been formulated by the Kadets alone. (95) Some Trudovik authors go further. They highlight the deep divisions within the Kadets. (96) The party's right flank desired no appeal to the people, just a statement that the Duma's closure was unconstitutional. The Trudoviks wanted a radical appeal to the narod, including a transfer of power to the Duma as a holding institution until the convocation of a Constituent Assembly and a call to the army to support the people. The debates in the committee at Vyborg were going nowhere; a common agreement looked impossible. Only the Governor General's intervention cut short the disputes. The Trudoviks and RSDLP agreed to a Kadet draft that was far from satisfactory. There remained the chance that a timely return to St. Petersburg could still rally the people and the military behind the Duma, something that the weak Vyborg Manifesto would not achieve. (97)
It proved impossible though to return to the capital. Some Kadet deputies had moved on to Terioki. They issued an invitation to the remaining Trudoviks and RSDLP deputies for another joint session to convene on 14 July. The meeting in Terioki has been largely lost to history, (98) but was described by a contemporary as the "final swansong of the 'first parliament'." (99) The factions were as far apart as ever. The Kadets insisted that with the country so calm it was impossible to save the Duma. Only a revolutionary upsurge would open up different tactics. The Trudoviks and RSDLP countered that an attempt to maintain the Duma as the new centre of power should be at the forefront of an attempt to generate a revolution. There were also irreconcilable differences over a Trudovik suggestion that an executive All-Duma Committee be formed to resolve tactical questions about how to best implement the demands of the Vyborg Manifesto. The idea of an All-Duma Committee was not pursued. It was felt that this would lack credibility--the committee's origins in a small meeting would mean that it could not claim to speak for the whole Duma. There were also numerous practical difficulties, not least the government's likely measures against such a committee. In the finish the atmosphere at Terioki was so oppressive that the deputies wanted it to end. The concluding words of an RSDLP deputy were considered appropriate: "The First State Duma was wonderful. It had a great start but a disappointing finish." (100)
The Vyborg Manifesto was thus highly unlikely to save the first Duma. Why would the population follow it if the Duma itself could not mount an organization to maintain a public presence? The divisions and doubts among the deputies also quickly surfaced. At the party's IV Congress of September 1906, the Kadets buried any commitment to the Vyborg Manifesto. For one commentator, this act of political cowardice showed, first, that the Manifesto was produced by the non-Kadet Left in Vyborg and, second, that the substantial group of citizens who were following the Vyborg Manifesto would be left isolated and ineffectual. A genuine opportunity to generate mass resistance had been lost. (101)
In these circumstances the fate of Duma deputies would be decided at the local level. Constituents did not welcome deputies who, it was felt, had rendered poor service. (102) Popular retribution could include the destruction of a deputy's garden. (103) For many Duma deputies there was some misfortune or other, most of it the result of state action rather than upset constituents. Members of the nobility were deprived of their status and titles; priests were no longer allowed to officiate at church rites; obstacles were placed on the employment of former deputies in health, education, and as part of local administration. (104) One deputy lost his mind. The leading Kadet from Moscow, M. Hertzenstein (1859-1906), renowned for expertise on agricultural affairs was assassinated, with suspicion falling on the Black Hundred organisation that was conscientiously trying to aid repression and arrest of deputies. (105) The state took a range of measures: several deputies were tortured or exiled, 33 were searched, 24 were imprisoned and other sentences imposed on 74 deputies. The vast majority (182) were brought to court and deprived of all political rights. They could not stand as candidates in future elections or hold any state post. This was an obvious blow to the Kadets. In such an atmosphere, ten deputies managed to go into hiding. (106) In many cases the deputies were supported by local constituents, who held protest meetings, petitioned the local Governor or the Prime Minister, and raised funds for the deputy and his dependents. (107)
The First Duma undoubtedly had its martyrs. Yet, it was pointed out, there was victory in defeat. The national and most importantly the international press were on the side of people's representatives. A contemporary review of French, German, Italian, and British publications, for example, illustrated that across Europe the blame for the "coup" of 8-9 July was placed on the Russian government. Moreover, the leading European newspapers felt that the Russian bureaucracy had chosen the most inopportune moment to show an unusual decisiveness. The moderate elements were clearly in control of the Duma and this was the most hopeful way for a revolution to be avoided. Constructive dialogue with such a Duma would impress European financial markets and offer the best guarantee that revolution would not start in Russia and spread from there. Did the Tsar really think that a subsequent Duma would be less radical? (108) The most far-seeing analysts predicted further government repression of the Duma, including the likelihood of a new elec. toral law to manufacture a more pliant parliament. (109)
Finally, there was little sign domestically that Nicholas II's expectations of the second Duma would be met. If anything most commentators expected a more intransigent Duma. The deputies in the Second Duma simply could not ignore the repression of their predecessors. (100) The electorate would be more politically astute and even more likely to back radical candidates and to resist government interference. (111) The course set out by the first Duma would not and could not be abandoned. The issue of a responsible ministry remained. The lesson would be drawn that to be stronger the Duma would have to move closer to the people. This, in turn, would entail a radicalization. The fact that some deputies were abroad at a conference of European parliamentarians was not lost. When the British Prime Minister was informed of the fate of the Russian parliament, his reaction became oft-quoted: "The Duma is dead. Long live the Duma!" (112)
The contemporary Russian literature was generally pro-parliamentarian. The Kadets and/or deputies sympathetic to "the cause" are the dominant voice. It has been effective in creating a climate of historical sympathy for the first Duma. At the same time the literature is a rich source of information about the attempt to introduce of level of popular representation into the autocracy. (113) Although the material surveyed here bears the heavy mark of party polemics in which Kadets and Trudoviks disputed their visions of the First Duma, it managed to move beyond this to form a Russian political science in embryo. It was interested in party formation and a socio-economic analysis of membership and constituents and the ways in which such factors might influence tactics and outlooks. There were conflicting opinions of what the first Duma constituted, of the dominant trends, and its likely or missed opportunities and potential. Such pluralism could itself be taken as an example of the maturity or maturation of a developing civil society that some authors at least claimed reached out into the provinces. If for one historian the first Duma was not a genuine test of Russian constitutionalism, (114) this was not the perception of writers at the time. It was precisely in those 72 days that the reality of the constitutional order was revealed, from the nature of the electorate to the status and standing of parliament and its deputies. The dissolution order was perceived as a coup d'etat in which Tsarism showed its determination to resist democratisation.
The pamphlets and monographs help us to understand why the autocracy found it so difficult to incorporate the first Duma into the existing political order and thus its decision to opt for dissolution. The Duma was unlike any other body. It announced a comprehensive and radical programme, including political, economic, and social change. It worked seemingly non-stop. It issued awkward questions to ministers, often in the language of "the people." It established its own commissions and sent deputies out into the country to discover the "truth" about administrative misdemeanours. It publicized what it saw as the bureaucracy's role in fomenting pogroms. Its debates of key policies, especially agrarian and major constitutional change, suggested a radical overhaul of society, of the relationship between state and society, and of the way in which the Russian state would conduct its business. The Duma was young, energetic, and seemingly meant business. Its postal bag was full of communications from below that expressed political hopes and anger. In many ways the "people's parliament" put the ministers, the State Council, and the Tsar himself, to shame. (115) It had to go.
The successful dissolution in July was an undoubted set-back, however inevitable it may have seemed it retrospect. Like the future builders of communism, liberals were keen to stress that the achievement of their goals would be a lengthy process in inhospitable Russian conditions. The establishment of a rule of law, of a state governed by and responsible to legal norms, would be a break with deeply entrenched habits of an autocracy that was going to defend its traditional modes of operation and arbitrary rule. Yet the first Duma was not without its gains and achievements. For all of its flaws, it had set out rules and precedent and a number of laws in outline for future Dumas to follow. It had been recognized and accepted as part of a Europe-wide parliamentary system. The state could dissolve Dumas that did not please it, even unconstitutionally, but the Duma was henceforth a necessary part of the domestic political arrangements and played its part in the eventual removal of Nicholas II. The first Duma may not have entered Russian history as a landmark event, celebrated by future generations as some commentators had hoped. Its tenth anniversary was noted, (116) but decades of communism then confined it to relative obscurity. If the ghosts of the writers on the first Duma could survey the current Russian political scene, in one sense they could claim historical correctness. In 1906 Russia faced a choice between progress and constitutionalism or backwardness and dictatorship, whether of a Tsar or a dictatorship of the proletariat. Russian has clearly rejected a Tsar and socialism. In another sense they might claim that the struggle for the predominance of the elected house continues.
(1) For a recent contribution see Ian D. Thatcher (ed.), Late Imperial Russia. Problems and Prospects (Manchester, 2005). Thanks are due to anonymous reviewers and to the following scholars who were kind enough to comment on early drafts: Sarah Badcock, Cathryn Brennan, Paul Dukes, Murray Frame, Shmuel Galai, Robert B. McKean, Jeffrey Meadowcroft, Christopher Read, Robert Service, Jonathan D. Smele, Geoffrey Swain, Peter Waldron, and James D. White.
(2) For an account of this from an elite perspective see Gilbert S. Doctorow, "The Government Pro gram of 17 October 1905," Russian Review, xxxiv (1975), pp. 123-36.
(3) The date of publication is not always an indicator of time of authorship. There were, for example, lengthy delays in the production of collected volumes of essays. The issue of hindsight for some publications is therefore not as obvious as it may seem.
(4) Newspapers are a rich source of information and are usually drawn upon for studies of this period. (See, for example, Louise McReynolds, The News Under Russia's Old Regime." The Development of a Mass Circulation Press (Princeton, 1991). This is especially true of the work closest to our topic, T. Emmons, The Formation of Political Parties and the First National Elections in Russia (London, 1983). Emmons refers to some of our literature but in search of statistics rather than the contemporary authors' broader political outlook. Several article studies have touched upon our theme but have used none or very few of our sources. See, for example, Shmuel Galai, "Kadet Domination of the First Duma and its Limits" in Jonathan D. Smele and Anthony Heywood (eds.), The Russian Revolution of 1905. Centenary Perspectives (London, 2005), pp. 196-217; Shmuel Galai, "The Impact of the Vyborg Manifesto on the Fortunes of the Kadet Party," Revolutionary Russia xx (2007), pp. 197-224; Warren B. Walsh, "The Composition of the Dumas," Russian Review, viii (1949), pp. 111-16; Warren D. Walsh, "Political Parties in the Russian Dumas," Journal of Modern History, xxii (1950), pp. 144-50.
(5) It is nevertheless a further sign of the contemporary interest in the Duma that works that did not pretend to offer an analysis of the Duma but collected personal impressions as the Duma sat were published. See, for example, the letters of a journalist in A. Tsitron, 72 dnia pervago russkago parlamenta (St. Petersburg, 1906) and Tan, Muzhiki v gosudarstvennoi dume. Ocherki (Moscow, 1907).
(6) There is no specialist monograph on the First Duma. For examples of its treatment in the secondary literature see, for example, J. Gooding, Rulers and Subjects (London, 1996), p. 107; N.V. Riasanovsky, A History of Russia (Oxford, 1984), p. 410; H. Rogger, Russia in the Age of Modernisation and Revolution (London, 1983), p. 222; H. Seton-Watson, The Decline of Imperial Russia (London, 1952), p. 253; R Waldron, The End of Imperial Russia (London, 1997), p. 34; J.D. White, The Russian Revolution (London, 1994), p. 29. The fullest and by far the best account is A. Ascher, The Revolution of 1905. Authority Restored (Stanford, 1992).
(7) For a useful discussion of how best to characterise the Octobrists see Shmuel Galai, "The True Nature of Octobrism," Kritika v (2004), pp. 137-47.
(8) It did however receive some contemporary attention. See, for example, lu. Lavrinovich's excellent review article in Byloe, iv (1907), pp. 302-10.
(9) For one analyst the legislation of February and April 1906 made a properly functioning parliament impossible. The upper chamber, for example, was not independent of the Executive and clearly not intended to work in harmony with the lower, as is the case in "proper" parliamentary systems. The Tsar had taken no oath of loyalty to the new constitution and was therefore likely to treat it lightly. See V.P. Alekseev, Pervyi russkii parlament (Moscow, 1906), pp. 3-33. For a useful commentary and translation into English of the 20 February and 23 April 1906 legislation see G. Vernadsky et. al. (eds.), A Source Book for Russian Histoo, from Early Times to 1917. Volume 3. Alexander H to the February Revolution (New Haven, 1972), pp. 769-74. For further arguments that the Duma as constituted would not be able to make a positive difference see: B. Avilov, O gosudarstvennoi dume (St. Petersburg, 1906); Iakushkin, Gosudarstvennaia duma (Rostov-on-Don, 1905); V.A. Miakotin, Nado li idti v go_ sudarstvennuiu dumu? (St. Petersburg, 1906); R Orlovskii, O Gosudarstvennoi dume (Geneva, 1905); I. Ia. Vladislavlev, Mozhet li gosudarstvennaia duma pomoch krestianam? (St. Petersburg, 1906); Kakoi nam nuzhen zakon o zemle? (St. Petersburg, 1906). For an account of elite-level deliberation that ignores the pamphlet literature see Gilbert S. Doctorow, "The Fundamental State Laws of 23 April 1906," Russian Review, xxxv (1976), pp. 33-52. For a useful account of the legislation around the Duma see Marc Szeftel, "The Parliamentary Reforms of the Witte Administration (October 19, 1905-April 23, 1906)", Parliaments, Estotes and Representation, i (1981), I, pp. 71-94.
(10) For a contemporary explanation of the electoral process see N.V. Khlebnikov, Poriadok vyborov v gosudarstvennuiu dumu (St. Petersburg, 1905). For critical analyses of the electoral rules and for arguments for extensions to the franchise see: L. Pamirtsev, Voina i Duma (St. Petersburg, 1905); N.N. Shchepkin, Zemskaia i gorodskaia rossiia o narodnom predstavitel'stve (Rostov-on-Don, 1905); O. Vol'kenshtein, Komu i zachem nuzhno vseobshchee izbiratel'noe pravo (St. Petersburg, 1906); O. Vol'kenshtein, Zhenshchina-izbiratel 'nitsa (Rostov-on-Don, 1906).
(11) As a consequence of the attention given to the history of Bolshevism in the light of October 1917, the socialist response to the Duma has been covered quite extensively in the secondary literature. It is therefore not the main focus of this article. On Russian socialism and the First Duma see, for example, J.L.H. Keep, "Russian Social Democracy and the First State Duma," The Slavonic and East European Review, xxxiv (1955-1956), pp. 180-99.
(12) L. Bikertan, Rossiiskaia revoliutsiia igosudarstvennaia duma (St. Petersburg, 1906). In a related vein see A. Shlikhter, Gosudarstvennaia duma i eia rol v osvoboditel'nom dvizhenii (St. Petersburg, 1906). For Shlikhter the boycott tactic was correct since the Duma was an attempt to rearm autocracy, to rule not directly but indirectly by deceit. For several authors only a Constituent Assembly elected on a universal franchise could solve Russia's problems; a Duma elected on a limited franchise in a restricted campaign and lacking in power was deficient. [See El'mar, Narod i gosudarstvennaia duma (St. Petersburg, 1906), pp. 3ff.; A.I. Gukovskii, Narod i duma (St. Petersburg, 1906).]
(13) For an account of how the electorate overcame various administrative pressures to exert their will via the franchise see, for example, M.A. Kr-1, Kakproshli vybory v gosudarstvennuiu dumu (St. Petersburg, 1906). For this brochure the electorate and the electors were as one. The peasants were as interested in freedom as in land and were full of expectation of positive results from the Duma.
(14) I. Petrunkevich, "Politicheskaia rol pervoi gosudarstvennoi dumy" in A.A. Mukhanov and V.D. Nabokov (eds.), Pervaia gosudarstvennaia duma. Vypusk peryi. Politicheskoe znachenie pervoi dumy (St. Petersburg, 1907), pp. 80-81.
(15) Petrunkevich, "Politicheskaia rol," p. 50.
(16) P. Orlovskii, "Kadety v dume," Bihlioteka nasikh chitatelei, i (25 April 1906), pp. 3-16. El'mar also sees liberal groups becoming more radical under societal pressure, but doubts whether the Kadets would be so brave as to try to use the Duma to establish a provisional government to oversee elections to a Constituent Assembly (El'mar, Narod i gosudarswtvennaia, pp. 13-14, 29-30).
(17) T.V. Lokot, Pervaia duma (Moscow, 1906), pp. 3-106.
(18) Ol'govich, Chto skazala derevnia pervoi gosudarstvennoi dume (St. Petersburg, 1906), p. I.
(19) In one brochure the nakazy expressed "distinctive peasant sufferings and emotions. They will be an especially valuable source for the future historian," Dumskii sbornik. Gosudarstvennaia duma pervago sozyva (St. Petersburg, 1906), p. 9. For some nakazy in English translation see, for example, Gregory L. Freeze, From Supplication to Revolution. A Documentary Social History of Imperial Russia (Oxford, 1988), pp. 275ff:
(20) R. Pipes, The Russian Revolution (London, 1990), pp. 160-64.
(21) Gosudarstvennaia Duma pervago prizyva. Portrety, kratkiia biografu i kharakteristiki deputatov (Moscow, 1906); N. Pruzhanskii (ed.), Pervaia rossiiskaia gosudarstvennaia Duma. Literaturnokhudozhestvennoe izdanie (St. Petersburg, 1906). When compared, these publications could offer conflicting information to a deputy. For an analysis along these lines see N.B. Selunskaia et. al., Stanovlenie rossiiskogo parlamentarizma naehala XX veka (Moscow, 1996), pp. 84-100.
(22) See, for example, M. Gurliand (ed.), Duma narodnago gneva, Izbrannyia mesta iz rechei, proiznesennvkh v pervoi russkoi dume (St. Petersburg, 1907).
(23) Lengthier portraits &some &the leading members of the First Duma were a feature of several publications. See, for example, V.E. Iakushkin, "Pamiati M. Ia. Gertsenshteina" in A.A. Mukhanov and V.D. Nabokov (eds.), Pervaia gosudarstvennaia duma. Vypusk tretii. Agrarnaia reforma i prodovol'stvennoe delo (St. Petersburg, 1907), pp. 118-27; Lokot, Pervaia duma, pp. 314-19; 1.1. Popov, Duma narodnykh nadezhd (Moscow, 1907), pp. 192-94; EE Semeniuta, Pervaia gosudarstvennaia duma, eia zhizn i smert (St. Petersburg, 1907), pp. 114-47; Ysitron, 72 dnia, pp. 112-17.
(24) A key statistical source on the composition of the First Duma is N. Borodin, "Lychnyi sostav pervoi gosudarstvennoi dumy, eia organizatsiia i statisticheskiia svedeniia o chlenakh" in Mukhanov and Nabokov (eds.), Pervaia gosudarstvennaia duma. Vypuskpervyi Borodin gives a detailed breakdown of party and group membership according to a range of economic and social categories. The following figures and their interpretation are taken from Borodin, pp. 28-37.
(25) V. Gessen, "Takitka partii v pervoi gosudarstvennoi dume" in Mukhanov and Nabokov (eds.), Pervaia gosudarstvennaia duma. Vypusk pervyi, pp. 128-29. (26) Borodin, "Lychnyi sostav," p. 19.
(27) One writer begins thus: "27 April 1906! Thursday. Warm. Dry. From early morning the overcast horizon was dispersing into the boundless ocean. By mid-morning the triumphant faces of St. Petersburg's inhabitants, pouring out onto the banks of the Great Neva, were sunlit. All were happy, but pensive. The bridges were raised. Lines of communication had been cut off. The Neva itself was wearing an unfamiliar look. Barges had been removed; the steamship service of the Finnish Society had disappeared somewhere; there was no carriage between its shores. On its banks stood the militia. Here and here military patrol boats passed by. What's up'? What's happened? 27 April! A wonderful day! Our children and grandchildren will read about it in Russian history books. Henceforth it will be noted on calendars as the beginnings of the "'new era," Semeniuta, Pervia gosudarstvennaia duma, p. 1.
(28) Ibid., p. 11.
(29) Lokot describes this as the "two sides of Russia," Pervaia duma, p. 161.
(30) Popov, Duma narodnvkh, p. 8.
(31) One commentator conceded that if the Tsar had not given everything hoped for, his speech gave no particular grounds for concern. See M. Vinaver, Konflikty v pervoi dume (St. Petersburg, 1907), p. 17.
(32) Popov, Duma narodnykh, p. 7. Popov includes Nicholas II, "Tronnia rech" as an Appendix. For an English translation see Ascher, The Revolution, p. 84.
(33) See, for example, V. Nabokov, "Otvetnyi adres gosudarstvennoi dumy" in Mukhanov and Nabokov (eds.), Pervaia gosudarstvennaia duma. Vypusk pervyi, pp. 168-74. Popov reproduces the Reply in full in Duma narodnvkh, pp. 202-6.
(34) Popov, Duma nardnvkh, p. 11.
(35) Nabokov, "Otvetnyi adres," pp. 170-71.
(36) V. Get'e, Pervaia russkaia gosudarstvennaia duma. Politicheskiia vozzreniia i taktika eia chlenov (Moscow, 1906), pp. 13, 15, 39-40. Ger'e's distinctions are interesting and can be located within the fillip that the Duma gave to the consideration of the issue of constitutionalism in Russia. See, for example, V.E. Iakushkin, Gosudarstvennaia vlast i proekty gosudarstvennoi reform v rossii (St. Petersburg, 1906); T. L'vov, Uchrezhdeniegosudarstvennoi dumy (Moscow, 1906); N.A. Rubakin, Dve konstitutsii (St. Petersburg, 1906); L.F. Shershenevich, Konstitutsionnaia monarkhiia (Moscow, 1906).
(37) V. Golubev, Perwe shagi gosudarstvennoi dumy pp. 17, 23-24. Golubev is a sympathetic critic. He still maintains that the deputies fulfilled the duty of comprehensive message to the Tsar with honour and thought that the gaps highlighted would be remedied in future debates.
(38) Lokot, Pervaia duma, pp. 173-74, 182-84.
(39) Petrunkevich, "Politicheskaia rol," p. 66.
(40) Nabokov, "Otvetnyi adres," p. 168.
(41) Ibid., p. 172.
(42) Petrunkevich, "Politicheskaia rol," p. 100.
(43) "Deklaratsiia ministerstva" in Popov, Duma narodnykh, pp. 207-13.
(44) Petrunkevich, "Poilticheskaia rol," p. 61.
(45) Semeniuta, Pervaia gosudarstvennaia duma, p. 26.
(46) Petrunkevich, "Politicheskaia rol," p. 73.
(47) Lokot, Pervaia duma, pp. 196-201.
(52) Popov, Duma narodnykh, pp. 31-35.
(53) Petrunkevich, "Politicheskaia rol," pp. 42, 63, 74.
(54) Nabokov, "Otvetnyi adres," p. 174.
(55) Petrunkevich, "Politicheskaia rol," p. 77.
(56) Semeniuta, Pervaia gosudarstvennaia duma, pp. 26-28.
(57) G. Fal'brok and V. Charnoluskii (eds.), Rossiiskiia partii, soiuzy i ligi (St. Petersburg, 1906). Evidence of interest in political parties in the run-up to the Duma elections is provided by short pamphlets that offered basic introductions to the main political trends and parties. See, for example, T. Slavin, Glavnyia politicheskiia partii v Rossii (Nakanune vvborov v gosudarstvennuiu dumu) (St. Petersburg, 1905).
(58) This no doubt helps to explain why contemporaries differed over the exact party allegiances in the Duma. For a comparison in the range of figures offered (in which the Kadets, for example, are 81 at the lowest estimate and 179 at the highest) see Selunskaia et. al., Stanovlenie rossiiskogo, pp. 10015.
(59) R. Service, A History of Twentieth-Century Russia (London, 1997), p. 15.
(60) Gessen, "Taktika partii," pp. 122-28.
(61) Ibid., pp. 133-37.
(62) Borodin, "Lychnyi sostav," pp. 27-28.
(63) This is very much the theme of Vinaver, Konflikty.
(64) Petrunkevich, "Politicheskaia rol," p. 94.
(65) This is very much the theme of Ol'govich, Chto skazala derevnia.
(66) Trudovik tactics may have had an influence on the young Nikita Khrushchev. After all, he explained his famous shoe-tapping incident at the United Nations with reference to the pre-revolutionary Duma. He thought that this was how bourgeois legislative institutions conducted their business. See S. Khrushchev (ed.), Memoirs of Nikita Khrushehev. Volume 3 Statesman [1953-1964] (Providence, Rhode Island and University Park, Pennsylvania, 2007), pp. 267-69.
(67) S. Bondarev, Taktika trudovoi gruppy (St. Petersburg, 1907).
(68) Lokot, Pervaia duma, pp. 107-49.
(69) Ibid., pp. 264-65. Much of Vinaver's book is dedicated to refuting Lokot's view of Trudovik influence over the Kadets. Vinaver does seem to have some common ground with Lokot though when he claims that the Duma did not set out to seek conflict; this was produced by the Duma reacting to sharp social tensions outside its walls (See Vinaver, Konflikty, pp. 3, 18, 40).
(70) Borodin, "Lychnyi sostav," p. 6.
(71) See, for example, D. Protopopov, Chto sdelala pervaia godudarstvennaia duma (Moscow, 1906), p. 18.
(72) The fullest account of the agrarian question in the Duma, including the work of the Agrarian Committee, is A.A. Kaufman, "Agrarnyi vopros" in Mukhanov and Nabokov (eds.), Pervaia gosudarstvennaia. Vyousk tretii, pp. 1-117.
(73) Some commentators thought that it was a mistake to agree on funds with an incompetent regime. See, for instance, Semeniuta, Pervaia gosudarstvennaia duma, p. 32.
(74) See, for example, A.A. Mukhanov and V.D. Nabokov (eds.), Pervaia gosudarstvennaia duma. Vypusk vtoroi. Zakonodatel 'naia rabota (St. Petersburg, 1907). As well as essays on many of the committees this book includes copies of the draft laws.
(75) NIKOLAI, "Imennoi vysochaishii ukaz" in Popov, Duma narodnykh, p. 215.
(76) Ibid., pp. 213-14.
(77) For an exception see Ger'e, Pervaia russkaia, pp. 110, 118.
(78) Alekseev, Pervyi russkiiparlament, pp. 11-12.
(79) V.D. Kuz'min-Karavaev, "Revoliutsionnoe vsytuplenie" dumy i zemel 'tn,i vopros (St. Petersburg, 1906).
(80) The text of"From the State Duma" is included in Ibid., pp. 13-14.
(81) Ibid., p. 18. Bernard Pares accepted that the Duma acted illegally, stating that the idea of a Duma statement to the people came 'not from the Cadets, but from Kuzmin-Karavayev, who was supposed to be more moderate; why he made it I never knew.' Here Pares could have drawn upon Kuz'minKaravaev's instructive pamphlet. See: Bernard Pares, My Russian Memoirs (New York, 1969), p. 121. The leading Kadet Professor RN. Miliukov, who was not a member of the First Duma, argued that a statement from the Duma would be too provocative but tailed to win over the Kadets to his objections. He called Kuzmin-Karavaev 'a vain and stupid man, an inveterate intriguer and muddle-headed politician.' See EN. Miliukov, Political Memoirs 1905-1917 (Ann Arbor, 1967), p. 125.
(82) Alekseev, Pervyi russkii parlament, pp. 38-39.
(83) Ger'e, Pervaia russkaia, pp. 23-25, 37, 56, 113.
(84) Kuz'min-Karavaev, "Revoliutsionnoe vystuplenie." pp. 18-19.
(85) Lokot, Pervia duma, pp. 309, 312-13.
(86) Popov, Duma narodnvkh, p. 185.
(87) Ger'e, Pervaia russkaia, pp. 51-52.
(88) Gessen, "Taktika partii," pp. 149-50.
(89) Lokot, Pervia duma, p. 293. There is a tension in Lokot's analysis between blame on the Kadets for being too cautious and divorced from the people, and the emphasis on the people's influence over the Duma that led not only to a leftward shift in the Kadets and the growth of the Trudoviks, but also determined the destructive urge of the Duma: "The people's wave was destructive and revolutionary and therefore the Duma could be nothing other than destructive-revolutionary ... the Kadets could not resist the mighty will of the people" (Pervaia duma, p. 117).
(90) T.V. Lokot, Politicheskiia partii i gruppy v gosudarstvennoi dume (Moscow, 1907), pp. 3-32.
(91) Get'e, Pervaia russkaia, p. 114.
(92) Here Trudovik tactics may have been based upon communications received from constituents that stated that, if faced with closure, the Duma should hold its ground and await the people's support. See Ol'govich, Chto skazala derevnia, pp. 29-32.
(93) I. Subbotin, Rospusk pervoi gosudarstvennoi dumy (St. Petersburg, 1907), pp. 21-22.
(94) A figure of 152 deputies is given for the second session of the morning of 10 July. A.A. Sergeev, "Pervaia gosudarstvennaia duma v vyborge," Krasnyi Arkhiv, 57 (1933), p. 89. Some deputies made the trip but did not attend any sessions due to illness: V.D. Nabokov, The Provisional Government (New York, 1970), pp. 42-43. The full text of the Vyborg Manifesto is in Ascher, The Revolution, pp. 205-6.
(95) Lokot, Pervia duma, p. 120.
(96) The Trudoviks was also no stranger to tactical differences. There at least four views presented in the notes published by Sergeev: return to the capital and keep working within the existing Duma; against a return to St. Petersburg; the formation of local committees to work for a Constituent Assembly; turn the current Duma into a Constituent Assembly and elect an Executive Committee (Sergeev, "'Pervaia gosudarstvennaia," p. 87).
(97) Subbotin, Rospusk pervoi, pp. 22-27.
(98) A lengthy chapter on late imperial parliamentarianism, for example, summarises Vyborg but makes no mention of Terioki. See, O.G. Malysheva, "Stanovlenie parlamentarizma v rossii v nachaIe xx v." in L.K. Sliski (ed.), Predstavitel 'naia vlast v rossii: istoriia i sovremennost' (Moscow, 2004), pp. 249-342. An exception is Ascher, The Revolution, p. 207.
(99) Subbotin, Rospusk pervoi, p. 28.
(100) Ibid., p. 30.
(101) Brusianin, Sud 'ba pervvkh deputatov (St. Petersburg, 1906), pp. 68-73.
(102) Some electors had expressed their frustration with the Duma in general. After one-and-a-halfmonth's operation the people's situation had not improved. Some dissatisfaction was directed at named deputies, who were threatened with a beating. See, Ol'govich, Chto skazala derevnia, pp. 25-27.
(103) Brusianin, Sud'ba pervykh, p. 10.
(104) Ibid., pp. 22-62.
(105) Ibid., p. 11.
(106) Borodin, "Lychnyi sostav," pp. 38-39.
(107) Brusianin, Sud 'ba pervykh, pp. 17-22.
(108) Semeniuta, Pervaia gosudarstvennaia duma, pp. 102-9.
(109) Lokot, Pervaia duma, p. 364.
(110) Borodin, "Lychnyi sostav," p. 39.
(111) Alekseev, Pervyi russkiiparlament, p. 42.
(112) For the broader British reaction to the Duma's closure see Barry Hollingsworth, "The British Memorial to the Russian Duma, 1906," The Slavonic and East European Review, liii (1975), pp. 53957.
(113) The contemporary literature surveyed here challenges some of the existing historical scholar ship. The following issues require some reevaluation: Might the first Duma have been less of a Kadet affair? Were political loyalties much more fluid'? What was the role and influence of the Trudoviks? What was the social make-up of the chamber? Did the absence of firm political blocs and experience work against the Duma? Did internal divisions undermine the elected chamber as much as regime hostilities? Were events such as the Vyborg Manifesto much more chaotic and fractured? Were there deep divisions about how to respond to the closure'? Despite all of these unanswered questions, subsequent historians--for example, Asher, The Revolution, pp. 8 l, 162, 164--have been quicker than contemporary commentators to write off the Duma as a failure.
(114) G. Hosking, The Russian Constitutional Experiment. Government and Duma 1907-1914 (Cam bridge, 1973), p. vii.
(115) Alekseev, Pervyi russkii parlament, p. 40.
(116) See the collection K 10-1etiiu I-oi gosudarstvennoi dumy 27 aprelia 1906-27 aprclia 1916. Sborn ik statei pervodumtsev (Petrograd, 1916).
Ian D. Thatcher is Professor in History at the University of Ulster. His recent publications have looked at Khrushchev as leader, the history of the Mezhraionka, and at Trotsky s absence from Lenin s funeral.
|Printer friendly Cite/link Email Feedback|
|Author:||Thatcher, Ian D.|
|Publication:||Canadian Journal of History|
|Date:||Dec 22, 2011|
|Previous Article:||The early defence of 'Lambeth Calvinism': theological and pastoral responses in a Lincolnshire Parish.|
|Next Article:||The self separated from violente: spectacle, material appropriation, and voices of resistance on the western front, 1914-18.|