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The workers question and revolutionary gamesmanship in 1917.

The Russian people did not like Tsar Nicholas II and got it into their heads to remove him. The tsar carried out the desire of the people and abdicated. Having received freedom, the people began to rob and kill each other.

On the first of March tsarism was overthrown, and the Provisional Government took its place. But it soon reduced Russia to an impossible state.

--From essays submitted by students in the lower grades of a Moscow gymnasium, 1917 (1)

The comments offered by my discussants are at once interesting and open to debate. All three wish I had engaged a greater number of issues in the article and gone into greater detail, but it is simply not possible in a text of 7,000 words to take on the entire issue of the history of the working class. The specific objective of my article determined its perspective and focus, which was primarily to show the untenability of the Marxist claim that the workers represented the most progressive class in Russian society in the early 20th century. Naturally I focused on those themes that seemed most pertinent to this particular question. Thus I paid special attention to the workers' cultural level, because I see this as having been critical in determining their mental outlook, their ability to assimilate Marxist ideas, and their ability to serve as leaders of the revolutionary movement. My interest in describing the workers' social marginality as well as their age, gender, and family profile stems from the fact that these factors, too, help us understand their mentality. I devoted considerable space to their length of employment, social origin, and ties to the village for the same reason.

It is important to distinguish between the transformation of workers into a social class in generic sociological terms--that is, as one part of the broader process of the creation of an industrial society--and the formation of the proletariat as a class in the Marxist sense. Like any other social class, workers possess a distinct status, power, material position, education, and way of life. They have an image of themselves as well as of other groups and the broader social hierarchy around them. They may even perceive the need and the means to change their social circumstances. But their ideology need not necessarily be pro-Marxist. (2)

Russian workers in the early 20th century did not possess all the essential characteristics of a class not only in the Marxist sense but also in the general sociological meaning of the term. Their community did not have welldefined social boundaries. Their class identity was also problematic from the perspective of self-identification and cross-identification. By law individual workers did not possess equal rights either in their own milieu or beyond it. Instead, their rights and obligations were those of their estates of origin, and they indeed took their origin from all the social estates of the empire, including the nobility and clergy. The majority of workers characterized themselves in estate terms, while other social groups perceived them (and themselves) in the same way. (3) This was because a class-based society was only just coming into being in the late imperial decades. Meanwhile, for workers to have acquired a class-based identity the classes around them would have to have acquired this class-based outlook as well. The prevailing age and gender structure among working people was such that Russian workers could not reproduce themselves, demographically speaking, which further compounded the situation. The ranks of the workers, in effect, always needed replenishment, and these new members came largely from the village. Furthermore, those working people who managed to obtain more education and move higher up the social ladder ultimately ceased to be employed as workers. This upward social mobility also impeded the workers' maturation as a social class.

Sarah Badcock's critique reflects the values of traditional historical research--that is, the importance that all historians place on drawing from and speaking to one's sources and of reasoning from the particular to the general. Hence her deep skepticism of the social science methodology that I adopt in my article. In her view, Russian workers in the early 20th century were too diverse in their vocations, levels of education, culture, way of life, and social origins to be collapsed into a single social group about which one could then draw useful and fair generalizations. Thus my efforts to identify and describe their general attributes as a group seem untenable to her.

My approach, however, is the interdisciplinary one that Lucien Febvre captured in his famous phrase: "Historians, be geographers! Be legal experts, sociologists, psychologists." (4) This approach opens the possibility of developing new insights based not only on historical evidence but also on the findings of sociologists, psychologists, demographers, and political scientists whose work focuses on general patterns of human behavior. One example that speaks to this point: the issue of sex and its consequences. As I suggest in my article, Russian workers were affected by a significant gender imbalance in the late imperial era, with men far outnumbering women. Furthermore, significant numbers of workers of reproductive age of both sexes were unmarried, and relations between the sexes were regulated by strict moral norms. Turning to the findings of psychologists and sexologists, we know that in the absence of sex both women and men are likely to experience increased irritability, aggression, and stress. Their level of enthusiasm declines, as does their likelihood of working productively with others toward desired goals. These effects are physiological rather than social--a reflection of insufficient levels of pleasure hormones in the blood, whose release is often associated with sexual activity. (5) Drawing from these premises, I conclude that the empire's population of industrial workers in 1914 included approximately one million young single men and about half a million young single women who were sexually anxious, frustrated, and dissatisfied with life. It is no accident that rates of sexual offenses among single men were two to three times greater than they were among their married counterparts. (6)

Most workers did not have families, yet this was a time when society placed a high value on marriage and family. As a result, healthy individuals without families were prone to being seen (to a degree at least) as socially and physically defective, and in the village context as morally flawed. (7) According to sociologists, a strong family provides a foundation for social stability. The family restrains deviant behavior, offers instruction and discipline, and exerts social control, providing mutual emotional, moral, and material support, averting loneliness, and so forth. Conversely, when families are dysfunctional or otherwise break down, such troubles within the family can reinforce criminal behavior. (8) Based on these observations, I conclude that the absence of strong family ties in the lives of many workers facilitated their high propensity toward crime. Crime statistics for the late 19th and early 20th centuries confirm this: crime among the married was substantially lower than among the single population and especially among the widowed and divorced. (9)

Most workers occupied a marginal social position marked by ambiguous social status. According to sociologists, such social marginality can give rise to painful existential turmoil and negative mental states. A person begins to feel superfluous and unneeded, which negatively affects attitudes toward social activity and produces deviations that are potentially dangerous to society. (10) Hence one may conclude that workers, because of their marginality, must have experienced similar feelings, which prompted feelings of social anomie as well as deviant behaviors.

In the historical literature on worker culture, as far as I know, the question of their cognitive capabilities and ability to understand key Marxist concepts has never been raised, yet this is important since in 1917 some 39 percent of workers were illiterate and 61 percent could read but not write. The psychologist Jean Piaget developed the idea of human cognitive development, which holds that five to eight years of formal schooling are required for an individual to demonstrate the capacity for abstract thought. Combining these historical and cognitive findings, we can infer that workers were unable to master abstract ideas such as "socialism," "democracy," "nationalization," and the like. This conclusion dovetails with the concrete observations of contemporaries as well as with general assessments offered by political scientists, writers, and philosophers. Thus, according Pavel N. Miliukov, "One of the main factors for the failure of the democratic revolution" in Russia was "the ignorance [temnota] and lack of consciousness on the part of the ... masses, which made it Utopian to expect that one might be able to realize even those principles [idei] that were otherwise completely in step with the times and that had already been embraced in other societies where people were better prepared to take an active part in public life." (11)

In Diane Koenker's view, I simplify the complex collectivity (obshchnost') of the "working class" in a number of ways. First, taking literacy as the defining attribute of the class, I make the mistake of treating all proletarians as a would-be undifferentiated mass (the "cannon fodder" of my title), blurring the lines between the cultured and the backward, the conscious and the instinctive, the drunk and the sober, the law-abiding and the criminal, and so on. Second, I ignore the changes that took place in worker thinking, sociopolitical activity, and relations with other workers that came about as a result of industrialization. Drawing on Ira Katzelson's model of working-class formation, Koenker holds that Moscow workers in 1917 reached Piaget s fourth level of development and effectively evolved from being a class in itself to being a class for itself, a fact that they demonstrated through their rational and pragmatic behavior. Social Democrats helped them to correctly understand events, and the workers deliberately and consciously sided with the Bolsheviks.

Yet it is important to remember that the most cultured of Moscow's workers are not a stand-in for the entire working class. The empirical material to which Koenker turns relates exclusively to the external aspects of the workers' engagement with the revolution. Their motivations, incentives, and self-reflections regarding how and why they supported the revolution are not examined, despite the fact that such issues are critical. Several explanations tend to be offered as to why workers supported the Bolsheviks: (1) they--the workers--understood the socialist worldview and were aware of themselves as a class (this is what Koenker appears to believe, as did Soviet historians); (2) the workers were drawn to Bolshevik slogans--"Factories to the Workers, Peace to the [World's] Peoples, Land to the Peasants"--none of which bore any relation to the building of socialism and world revolution (this is my view and that of many others); and (3) workers had little interest in democracy or socialism but rather seized on the weakness of state authorities during the revolution to exert their aggressiveness and improve their material position by, among other things, seeking higher wages, obtaining compulsory leave time, and so forth.

One proponent of the third view, Sergei N. Prokopovich (1871-1955), a well-known economist who served as minister of trade and industry and then as minister of food supply in the Provisional Government, offered this overall assessment in 1918:
   The proletariats passionate desire to improve its material position
   and readiness to use its political strength to achieve this end,
   without any consideration of the country's overall weak level of
   production and per capita income, had three effects: first, it led
   to a colossal rise in the issue of paper money and the
   corresponding devaluation of the ruble; second, it facilitated the
   breakdown of the military supply system and the disintegration of
   the wartime economy; and third, it precipitated the economic crisis
   of the spring and summer of 1918, including a drastic surge in
   unemployment and catastrophic decline in wages. (12)

The workers loudly insisted on their right to organize themselves through the trade unions and committees, picked fights with town administrations, and demanded rapid improvements in their standard of living, usually by advancing ultimatums. In making these demands, they preferred to ignore factory conciliation boards, which were established in May 1917 to try to resolve disputes between workers and enterprise owners at the factory level. Their preference instead was to take to the streets, expressing themselves through mass rallies, as well as acts of mob justice (samosud), which were presented as the legal outcome of "community resolutions" (mirskie prigovory), (13) some ten thousand of which were issued between February and December 1917. (14)

Workers also failed to demonstrate much proletarian consciousness in their everyday lives or much interest in building a future based on principles of democracy and socialism. The overthrow of the monarchy was followed by a wave of robberies, murders, looting, and the destruction of wine storehouses, market stalls, and shops. Lawlessness was especially rife in the two capitals. (15) Theft and embezzlement on the factory floor became ubiquitous as workers "walked off with" whatever seemed useful. Moreover, such actions often spilled over into armed seizures of factories by groups of laborers, who then might completely destroy the plant and confiscate its production. (16)

As then Minister of Justice Aleksandr F. Kerenskii lamented in a speech to delegates at a frontline conference as early as April 1917, "My strength is running low because I am no longer as assured as I was that before us are not rebellious slaves but conscious citizens, creating a new state with a passion worthy of the Russian people." (17) Maksim Gor'kii observed in December 1917: "When I look at this outburst of zoological instincts, I don't see the vividly rendered features of social revolution. This is a Russian riot [bunt] without socialists in spirit, without a socialist psychology." (18)

What became of the supposed class consciousness of the workers after the Bolshevik takeover in October 1917 and then during the Soviet era? The establishment of worker control in factories and plants in 1918 was tantamount to the arrival of true anarchy, with an accompanying massive increase in absenteeism, which averaged some 21 days across the provinces that year, reaching 46 days in some cases. Relative to 1913, the annual total of official working days in 1918 fell by 38, then all but doubled in 1919 to 74. In 1920, leading Moscow workers could be absent without cause for up to 19 days, while members of trade unions could take 23-26 days off, at a time when total absenteeism in the country averaged 24 days. Six additional days could be taken due to valid excuses, such as rallies, demonstrations, and community work. Not surprisingly, the number of such officially sanctioned days off was still higher for trade union members and social activists. (19)

The role played by the proletariat--the would-be hegemon of the revolution--in the country's political life thereafter is well known. Right up to the fall of the Soviet regime, the workers functioned as the puppets as well as the smokescreen for the Communist Party that ruled in their name. Every worker belonged to a trade union, they were sought out as members of the Party, and they were represented (according to quota!) in every organ of government (in 1984 they made up over 35 percent of the deputies of the Supreme Soviet of the USSR, which, when this is added to collective farm workers, who represented some 16.1 percent of the Supreme Soviet, means that rural and urban workers together represented 51.3 percent, the majority of the body). (20) Yet even as their social activism increased largely on paper, the rise in their level of education was genuine. In 1918 some 36 percent of industrial workers of both sexes were illiterate, yet by 1929 this number had dropped to just 14 percent, while approximately 70 percent of workers had obtained at least a primary education. In 1939, 91 percent had completed a primary education, and 9 percent had at least attended high school; in 1987 the proportion of the latter reached 86 percent. (21) The majority were hereditary workers with no obvious tie to the land. Yet despite all this, the proletariat was literally and figuratively a paper-based class--a class that existed solely on paper.

Summarizing then, levels of social activism, education, social origin, the closeness of ties with the village, length of employment, and other similar criteria are necessary but not in themselves enough to allow us to draw conclusions as to when workers became a class. In 1917, they did not meet even the formal criteria for class formation. The growth in the solidarity, degree of organization, and consciousness of Moscow workers in 1917 was temporary and can be explained by their urgent desire to end the war and raise their standard of living by any means possible. They supported the Bolsheviks because the Bolsheviks were the party that promised to do these things immediately (zdes'i seichas).

According to William Rosenberg, the notion of Russian industrial workers as a vanguard and hegemon, possessing a Marxist worldview and participating in the 1917 revolution for the sake of building socialism and world revolution, is a manifestation of vulgar Marxism-Leninism. In his opinion, this point of view has nothing in common with what actually occurred in 1917, and there are no professional scholars of the revolution who share this view. As this forum and ongoing debates in Russian historical writing suggest, however, there are in fact quite a few historians who, at least to some extent, indeed share this view. (22)

In his commentary Rosenberg focuses on issues that he finds important but which I do not consider at all in my article, namely (1) the relationship between the social and political polarization of workers; and (2) distinctions between long-term and short-term processes of socioeconomic and political change. On the first question our views largely coincide; with regard to the second, I take the optimists' position, while Rosenberg sides more with the pessimists.

The revolution seems to me to be a tragic digression from the normal development taking place in the reform period. Much like other countries in the second wave of modernization, the accelerated pursuit of modernization in Russia exacted a high price and even required victims. This resulted in deprivations and hardship for certain groups and created wide inequities. The indirect negative consequences of the process proved to be profound--an increase in class and ethnic tension, social conflict, and deviance in all its manifestations. Revolution occurred in Russia not because the country was engulfed in crisis but because the political elite as well as the counterelite was incapable of effecting a smooth legal transfer of power from the monarch to society. More precisely, they did not agree on the pace of this transfer, given that the transfer itself began during the Great Reforms and had already been long underway by 1917. In my view, the elites--that is, both the government and its opponents--could have mitigated social tensions, overcome conflict, sought compromise, brought society together, and encouraged an atmosphere of overall social cooperation, yet instead they engaged in a struggle for power, stoked mutual enmity, pursued propaganda wars and smear campaigns, and did what they could to draw the people, who understood little of this battle for power, to their cause. The outcome of all this was revolution, which ultimately concluded with the victory of the counterelite.

From Rosenberg's perspective, World War I played a contradictory role. On the one hand, the war put a temporary freeze on the social conflict that had begun long before 1905, yet on the other, the conflict itself grew into a difficult ordeal that ultimately intensified the prewar crisis to such an extent that the government lost control. The overthrow of the monarchy, however, offered only a theoretical resolution to the crisis. In reality, the country found itself so challenged and in such disarray--first and foremost with regard to the economy--that to overcome the crisis was unrealistic. For this reason, the crisis proceeded apace and inescapably evolved into revolution.

As I see it, this general interpretation is incorrect. Instead, as I have argued in Rossiiskaia imperiia, my view is that Russia's overall development in the postreform era proceeded quite successfully. Here I limit myself to focusing on the war years, which are the main focus of Rosenberg's remarks, and again, in this instance I propose a quite different perspective. As I see it, it was not the war that led to crisis and revolution but rather the revolution that caused the crisis. Up to 1916 (inclusive), the Russian economy successfully adapted to wartime pressures (Table 1).

Between 1914 and 1916, industrial output within the empire (excluding Poland and Finland) grew by 22 percent, while labor productivity increased by 8 percent. Much as before the war, yields of agricultural staples were heavily dependent on the weather. In 1914-16 these yields decreased, and in 1916 they shrank by 19 percent relative to 1909-13, but this was due to climactic conditions rather than the war. On a national scale, with the fall of yields by 19 percent the domestic demand for grain was completely satisfied because of the prohibition in 1914 on the distilling of alcohol and the export of grain, which in 1909-13 had consumed 24 percent of the net grain harvest. From 1914 to 1916, livestock totals increased by 29 percent. Meanwhile rail transport coped well enough with the overall increase in freight traffic.

The overthrow of the monarchy had a substantial impact on the economy, but it was not until after the October Revolution that we see a catastrophic unraveling. In 1917 industrial output fell by 43 percent, in 1918 by another 21 percent, and in 1920 overall industrial production stood at just 21 percent of its prewar level. Gross yields of essential field crops in 1917 fell by 25 percent compared with 1916, while yields in 1918-19 were 2.2 times lower and in 1920 four times lower than prewar totals. The number of livestock declined from 1917 on and by the end of 1920 had decreased by a third with respect to 1916. Railroad transport of freight for 1917 alone plunged by a factor of 1.8, and train speed dropped by a factor of 1.2. In 1920 total freight traffic fell to a point nine times lower than the figure for 1913.

The populations standard of living changed in tandem with the economic situation. Between 1914 and 1916, real income among peasants rose overall thanks to satisfactory harvests, the decline (due to inflation) in the effective tax burden, reduced spending on alcohol (due to prohibition), the mass sale of horses to meet the needs of the army, and increased income from state payments for horses that were mobilized for service. (23)

According to various estimates, real wages for industrial workers in 1914-16 increased slightly. After February 1917, nominal wages, often in response to workers' ultimatums, began to rise, in the words of S. N. Prokopovich, "at a furious pace, without any connection to labor productivity and the gross revenue of industrial enterprises.... Then, as productivity fell and anarchy rose, the length of the workday was shortened to eight hours and piecework was abolished, such that the intensity of labor dropped sharply." Absences for "valid" reasons--rallies and demonstrations--increased. The length of the working day and year diminished; piecework was replaced by time-rate wages. To satisfy demands for immediate wage increases, the Provisional Government began printing currency, which in turn resulted in massive inflation. Consequently, workers' real wages began to decline and by 1920 had dropped to a third of their prewar level. Meanwhile the salaries of workers engaged in intellectual labor were nine times lower.

During the war, bank deposits increased nominally and roughly apace for all population categories, right up to the dismantling of the banking system by the Bolsheviks. The growth in the number of depositors and in the extent of their savings testifies, even nominally, to the growth of incomes for a significant part of the population. From 1 January 1913 to 1 January 1917 the number of savings banks operated by the Russian State Bank, in which the lion's share of the population held its savings, increased by a factor of 1.7, the number of savings account books by 1.5 times, and total deposits by 2.7 times. The number of depositors reached 12.7 million.

The extent of deviant behavior within society is widely accepted as

an indicator of social welfare. In 1914-16 the crime rate declined by 29 percent, and suicide was almost halved. In 1919-21 the crime rate was 2.4 times higher than in 1911-13, and approximately 3-6 times higher than in 1914-16. (24) In 1914-17 the coefficient of suicides was roughly half the 1913 figure, but in 1918 it began to rise and in 1922 surpassed the prewar level. (25)

Everything becomes clearer when placed in comparative perspective. According to objective indicators, the economic situation in Russia before the overthrow of the monarchy seemed no worse and in some respects, with the exception of Great Britain, actually better than that of other combatant countries. We sense this from a comparison of prewar and wartime per capita gross domestic product (GDP). In Austria, annual average per capita GDP between 1914 and 1916 (as measured in constant prices) was 21 percent lower than prewar levels, in Germany, the figure was 19 percent lower, in Italy 6 percent lower, and in France and the United States 5 percent lower. Only in Great Britain was the figure 5 percent higher in 1914-16 than it had been in 1913. In Russia, net national income, the dynamics of which closely approximate those of the GDP, was 6 percent lower (Table 2). If one takes into consideration the approximate nature of these valuations, these figures suggest that only in Great Britain was the economic situation better than in Russia.

In all the warring countries, the food supply was worse than in Russia, in particular in Germany and Austria-Hungary. The German government introduced a ration system in January 1915, initially for bread but extending by the end of 1916 to all the most important foods. Rationing of sugar and bread was introduced in some Russian provinces in the summer of 1916, though the daily norms were larger than their equivalents in Germany. For example, in Petrograd in February 1917, the daily ration for bread was set at 615 grams--3.6 times the German daily norm. It was not until December 1917 that rationing began on most food goods in the Russian capitals. (26)

From 1914 to 1 January 1917, Russia's national debt increased 3-8 times, from 8.8 billion to 33.6 billion rubles, roughly seven times the total revenue of the 1917 state budget. Yet within just one year--that is, by the end of 1917--the state's debt soared to 60 billion rubles or 26.4 billion rubles more than the total debt acquired during the 1914-16 period. During the war years the national debt of the United States increased by a factor of 21 (from $1.2 billion to $25-5 billion, or from 0.4 to 2.7 times the annual revenue of the state budget), the debt in Great Britain rose by a factor of almost 11 (from 706 million [pounds sterling] to 7.5 billion [pounds sterling], or 8.4 times the state's revenue for 1918), and in France the debt increased by a factor of six (from 34.2 billion to 214.1 billion francs, or 28 times the annual revenue in 1918). (27) Before 1917, the financial situation in all the combatant countries was similar; only after the overthrow of the monarchy did the situation in Russia become worse.

Consequently, it was not the war but rather the revolution that dealt a crushing blow to the economy, the national standard of living, and the overall quality of governance. It was the revolution rather than the war that unleashed anarchy, spurred the collapse of the army, and sparked revolutionary excesses and mass psychosis. Furthermore, state decentralization, the across the-board and rushed reform of tsarist institutions, and recurrent personnel turnovers precipitated an institutional crisis. After eight months of rule by the Provisional Government, this dire situation ultimately gave rise to the October uprising and civil war.

Rosenberg credits me with raising the important link between worker psychology and political behavior but suggests that I failed to contextualize and adequately resolve the issue. In his view, I wrongly equate literacy with the capacity of "simple people" to understand the world around them and to accurately perceive their needs and wants, even if they do not always have a clear idea as to how to act to improve their situation. In reality, my point was that illiterate and semiliterate people do not approach problems through the abstractions of Marxism or any other theory but rather through calculations based on intuition, experience, and common sense. They neither understand abstract ideas nor find them interesting. To this extent, then, they cannot be considered the vanguard of the working class. With respect to their capacities for collective action and feelings of solidarity, bees, ants, and other social insects display astonishing solidarity and mobilize in the presence of danger no less than people do. The problem lies in what kind of motivation stands behind this action and the source of that motivation. The impetus for Russian workers' behavior in the early 20th century drew on an existential rather than an ideological rationale. While educated people can express ways of thinking that reflect earlier stages of cognitive development, this does not mean that the opposite is true. Without education, people do not experience the higher stage of cognitive development that is required for abstract thought. (28)

Let me summarize. During the Soviet period, anything related to the history of the workers was given special consideration. Not surprisingly, therefore, historians tended to overestimate Russia's level of capitalist development, while similarly exaggerating the power, quantity, consciousness, and revolutionary predisposition of the so-called "leading" and "heroic" class. As Stanislav Tiutiukin remarked in 1999, addressing himself to a meeting on working-class history organized by the Scholars' Council (uchenyi sovet) of the Institute of Russian History of the Russian Academy of Sciences: "Our previous approach suffered from [excessive] idolization. We transformed a working class of living human beings into a sort of bronze statue bearing only the slightest resemblance to the historical realities of the late 19th and early 20th centuries. This approach has to change. Most important, we need an approach that is more objective, since our previous work in this area was quite removed from historical truth." (29) The members of the Scholars' Council agreed with Tiutiukin.

Something similar, in my view, occurred in the field of North American Slavic studies. Inspired by the social historians of the 1960s and 1970s, including, as Koenker has suggested, scholars such as E. P. Thompson and Eric Hobsbawm, American historians of the Russian working class approached their topic somewhat one-sidedly. Aiming to restore the "masses" to history and to illuminate historical events, phenomena, and processes "from below," they engaged in a search for positive heroes among the workers and, naturally, found them, because such heroes did indeed exist. In the process, they discovered that revolutionary-minded workers, together with their soldier counterparts, constituted a basic foundation of support for the Bolshevik movement and that the country's major industrial centers served as the strongholds of revolution. But from this they drew an inaccurate conclusion--that not just some but all Russian workers had acted consciously, independently, with discipline, and on the basis of ideological conviction. As I have tried to show, I believe there is compelling evidence to show that this was not the case.

Translated by Jan M. Surer

St. Petersburg State University

Mendeleevskaia liniia, 5

St. Petersburg 199034, Russian Federation

(1) Quoted from V. S. Voronov, "Fevral'skaia revoliutsiia v detskikh zapisiakh," Vestnik prosveshchemia, no. 3 (1927): 6 and no. 12 (1927): 4-5.

(2) Dzh. Masionis [John J. Macionis], Sotsiologiia, 9th ed. (Moscow: Piter, 2004), 340-42, 352-57.

(3) G. L. Friz [Gregory L. Freeze], "Soslovnaia paradigma i sotsial'naia istoriia Rossii," in Amerikanskaia rusistika: Vekhi istoriografii posUdnikh let. Imperatorskii period. Antologiia (Samara: Samarskii universitet, 2000), 121-62.

(4) L. Fevr [Lucien Febvre], Boi za istoriiu (Moscow: Nauka, 1991), 37.

(5) E. Bern [Eric Berne], Seks v chelovecheskoi liubvi (Moscow: Moskovskii kadrovyl tsentr, 1990).

(6) M.N. Gernet, Moral 'naia statistika (Ugolovnaia statistika i statistika samoubiistv) (Moscow: 14--ia gosudarstvennaia tipografiia, 1922), 169.

(7) B. N. Mironov, Rossiiskaia imperiia: Ot traditsii k modernu, 3 vols. (St. Petersburg: Dm. Bulanin, 2014), 2:554-55.

(8) V. N. Burlakov and V. P. Sal'nikov, eds., Kriminologiia: XX vek (St. Petersburg: Iuridicheskii tsentr Press, 2000), 494-514.

(9) Gernet, Moral'naia statistika, 165.

(10) R. E. Park, "Lichnost' i kul'turnyi konflikt," Sotsial'nye i gumanitarnye nauki, Seriia 11: Sotsiologiia, no. 2 (1998): 175-92; E. V. Sadkov, "Marginal'nost' i prestupnost'," Sotsiologicheskie issledovaniia, no. 8 (2008): 43-47.

(11) P. N. Miliukov, Istoriia vtoroi russkoi revoliutsii (Moscow: Rosspen, 2001), 275-76.

(12) S. N. Prokopovich, Voina i narodnoe khozaistvo (Moscow: N. A. Sazonova, 1918), 258, 263-64.

(13) V. B. Aksenov, "Povsednevnaia zhizn' Petrograda i Moskvy v 1917 godu" (Candidate of Historical Sciences diss., Moskovskii pedagogicheskii gosudarstvennyi universitet, 2002), 162-64, 250.

(14) M. Gor'kii, Nesvoeiremennye mydi (Moscow: Sovremennik, 1991), 12-13.

(15) V. I. Musaev, Prestupnost' v Retrograde v 1917-1921 gg. i bor'ba s nei (St. Petersburg: Dmitrii Bulanin, 2001), 25, 29, 34.

(16) Aksenov, "Povsednevnaia zhizn'," 180.

(17) A. F. Kerenskii, Rechi (Kiev: Blago naroda, 1917), 9.

(18) Gor'kii, Nesvoevremennye mysli, 14-15.

(19) Statisticheskii ezhegodnik 1918-1920 gg., no. 2: 174.

(20) Narodnoe khoziaistvo SSSRza 70 let (Moscow: Finansy i statistika, 1987), 382.

(21) A. G. Rashin, Formirovanie rabochego klassa Rossii (Moscow: Izdatel'stvo sotsial'no -ekonomicheskoi liteiatury, 1958), 601; Trud v SSSR: Spmvochttik 1926-1930 (Moscow: Plankhozgiz, 1930), 24-25, 30-31, 65-66; Narodnoe khoziaistvo SSSR, 387, 526.

(22) B. N. Mironov, Blagosostoianie nasekniia i revoliutsii v imperskoi Rossii: XVIII--nachalo XX veka, 2nd ed. (Moscow: Ves' mir, 2012), 563-661; Mironov, Strasti po revoliutsii: Nravy v rossiiskoi istoriogmfii v vek informatsii (Moscow: Ves' mir, 2013).

(23) Prokopovich, Voina i narodnoe khoziaistvo, 51.

(24) Sbornik statisticheskikh svedevii po Soiuzu SSR, 1918-1923: Za piat' let raboty TsSU (Moscow: MKKh, 1924), 66-70.

(25) E. N. Tarnovskii, "Svedeniia o samoubiistvakh v Zapadnoi Evrope i v RSFSR za poslednee desiatiletie," Problemy prestupnosti (Moscow: Gosizdat, 1926), no. 1: 192-93.

(26) Mironov, BLagosostoianie naseleniia, 577-78.

(27) Iu. P. Voronov, "Finansovoe bankrotstvo predrevoliutsionnoi Rossii," Al'manakh "Vostok" no. 2(14) (2004) (; Sbornik statisticheskikh svedenii po Soiuzu SSR, 316; Brian R Mitchell, European Historical Statistics, 1750-1970 (New York: Columbia University Press, 1976), 719, 721, 726; Historical Statistics of the United States: Colonial Times to 1970, 2 pts. (Washington, DC: US Department of Commerce, 1975), 2:1117-19.

(28) For the particular characteristics of cognitive processes among the "simple people," see Mironov, Rossiiskaia imperiia, 3:501-35.

(29) For a discussion of the report, see I. M. Pushkareva, "Perspektivy izucheniia rabochego dvizheniia v Rossii v svete novykh kontseptsii," Trudy Instituta rossiiskoi istorii RAN, 1999-2000, ed. A. N. Sakharov (Moscow: Institut rossiiskoi istorii Rossiiskoi akademii nauk, 2002), no. 3: 103.
Table 1

Economic Situation and Standard of Living, 1913-20 (on the territory
of the USSR in its 1922 borders), 1913 = 100

                           1913   1914   1915   1916

Gross industrial output    100    101    114    122
Number of workers          100    103    102    113
Workday, in hours           10    --     --     9.9
Actual work per year, in
  days                     257    --     --     258
Gross yield of staple
  crops                    100*    91    104     81
Number of livestock        100     94           129
Freight traffic            100     97    123    148
Passenger traffic          100     98    105    127
Real wages of industrial
  workers                  100    103    109    108
Real wages of employees
  engaged in industry      100     99     91     78
Balance of cash deposits
  in savings banks ****    100    106    117    163
Number of depositors in
  savings banks ****       100    106    110    120

                           1917   1918   1919    1920

Gross industrial output     77     35     26      18
Number of workers          116     96     78     114
Workday, in hours          8.9    8.5    8.3     8.6
Actual work per year, in
  days                     238    219    183     228
Gross yield of staple
  crops                     61     48     46      26
Number of livestock        124     96     88      86
Freight traffic             83     27     11      11
Passenger traffic          125     --     --      62
Real wages of industrial
  workers                   85     42     33      33
Real wages of employees
  engaged in industry       38     4 **           12 ***
Balance of cash deposits
  in savings banks ****    273     --     --      --
Number of depositors in
  savings banks ****       146     --     --      --

Notes: * 1909--1913; ** January-June 1918; *** 1921; **** On January 1.

Sources: Itogi desiatiletiia Sovetskoi vlasti v tsifrakh, 1917--1927
(Moscow: Tsentral noe statisticheskoe upravlenie [TsSU], 1928),
436-49; Kratkii ocherk deiatel'nosti russkikh zheleznykh dorogvo
vtoruiu Otechestvennuiu voinu, 2 pts. (Petrograd: N. I. Evstifeev,
1916), 1:50-51; Materialy po statistikeputei soobshcheniia, 5 pts.
(Moscow: NKPS, 1921), no. 1: 35, and no. 4-5: 4--5; Rossiiskii
gosudarstvennyi arkhiv ekonomiki (RGAE) f. 1562 (TsSU pri Sovete
ministrov SSSR), op. 33, d. 2310, 11. 115-16 ("Narodnoe khoziaistvo
SSSR za 1913-1956 gg. [Kratkii statisticheskii sbornik]"
[]); Polozhenie truda v Petrogradskoi
gubernii za 1918 1923 gg.: Statisticheskii atlas. Poiasnitel'nyi
tekst i tsifi-ovye materially (Petrograd: Voprosy truda, 1923),
11; S. N. Prokopovich, Narodnoe khoziaistvo SSSR, 2 vols.
(New York: Izdatel'stvo imeni Chekhova,
1952), 2:77-78, 94; Sbornik statistikoekonomicheskikh svedenii po
sel'skomu khoziaistvu Rossii i inostrannykh gosudarstv (Petrograd: I.
F. Vaisberg, 1917), Year 9: 234-35 and Year 10: 40-41, 60-61, 236-37,
240-41; Sbornik statisticheskikh svedenii po Soiuzu SSR 1918-1923:
Za piat ' let raboty TsSU (Moscow: MKKh, 1924), 189-91, 243,
244, 440-43; N. P. Oganovskii and N. D. Kondrat'ev, eds., Sel'skoe
khoziaistvo Rossii v XX veke: Sbornik statistiko-ekonomicheskikh
svedenii za 1901--1922 gg. (Moscow: Novaia derevnia, 1923), 107, 158,
197, 316-37; Statisticheskii ezhegodnik Rossii 1914g. (Petrograd:
Tipografiia Shtaba Petrogradskogo voennogo okruga, 1915), sect. 12:
92; Statisticheskii ezhegodnik 1918-1920 gg., 2 pts. (Moscow: 14-ia
gosudarstvennaia tipografiia, 1921, 1922), no. 2, sect. 12: 23-63;
Statisticheskii ezhegodnik 1922 i 1923 g., 2 pts. (Moscow: 14-ia
gosudarstvennaia tipografiia, 1924), no. 1, sect. 9: 221 and no. 2:
102-3, 118, 125-26; Statisticheskii sbornik za 1913-1917 gg., 2 pts.
(Moscow: 14-ia gosudarstvennaia tipografiia, 1921, 1922), no. 2:
130-32, 138-70, 203-25; Statisticheskii sbornik za 1918-1920 gg.,
2 pts. (Moscow: 14-ia gosudarstvennaia tipografiia, 1922), no. 1,
sect. 3: 116-18 and no. 2: 170-85; S. G. Strumilin,
Izbrannyeproizvedeniia, 5 vols. (Moscow: Nauka, 1963),
3:365, 386; M. M. Shmukker, Ocheiki finansov i ekonomiki
zheleznodorozhnogo transporta Rossii za
1913--1922 gg. (Moscow: NKPS; Transpechat', 1923), 202, 204-6.

Table 2

Gross Domestic Product Per Capita in Constant Prices
in Russia and Western Countries in 1913-20, 1913 = 100

                1913   1914   1915   1910   1917

Russia          100     96     98     88     77
Austria         100     83     77     76     75
Germany         100     84     79     80     81
Great Britain   100    100    107    109    110
Italy           100     95     90     97     97
France          100     93     93     99     85
United States   100     91     92    103     99

                1918   1919   1920   1921

Russia           47     41     41     37
Austria          74     65     70     76
Germany          82     71     77     84
Great Britain   111     99     92     90
Italy            95     91     93     90
France           69     81     93     88
United States   107    107    105    100

Note: Figure for Russia is net national income per capita.

Sources: Andrei Markevich and Mark Kharrison [Harrison], Pervaia
mirovaia voina, Grazhdanskaia voina i vosstanovlenie: Natsional'nyi
dokhod Rossii v 1913-1928 gg. (Moscow: Mysl', 2013), 1 5, 18; Angus
Maddison, "Statistics on World Population, GDP, and Per Capita GDP,
1/2008 AD" (Groningen: Groningen Growth and Development Centre, 2010
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Title Annotation:Response
Author:Mironov, Boris N.
Article Type:Essay
Geographic Code:4EXRU
Date:Mar 22, 2017
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