Maid of Baikal: A Novel of the Russian Civil War

“Quite so,” the youthful American Consul chirped. “Admiral Kolchak’s April decree on electoral reform provides for an electoral commission composed of existing representatives from some forty town councils. A new national assembly could be chosen in a similar way.”

Guins stiffened upon hearing Embry’s suggestion.

“Whether the delegates are elected or appointed, to summon a new national assembly would be a political act,” Guins objected, “and would risk igniting a fresh political struggle to the rear areas. Let us not forget that all Siberian parties have agreed not to campaign for a new assembly until the Red Army is defeated.”

“And for good reason,” Sukin affirmed, reinforcing this line. “Admiral Kolchak has always maintained that, as an interim ruler, he has no right to bind future Russian governments on major issues until citizens now under Bolshevik occupation can participate. To summon a national assembly now would smack of overreaching.”

“With all due respect, Minister Sukin,” Consul Preston parried with a cold smile. “You have asked us a moment ago what would be required for our governments to recognize yours as Russia’s sole representative. The answer is that we require tangible evidence that your Supreme Ruler will usher in freedom and self-rule rather than yet another form of despotism. The matter is simple: the longer he delays calling up a national assembly, the longer he must wait for our recognition.”

At this check from a highly experienced chess partner, Sukin pushed away his empty glass of tea in a show of irritation.

“While we recognize that new elections are what the Western democracies desire for Russia, you must understand that not all our citizens favor your notions of constitutional democracy,” Guins rejoined. “To be frank, the Admiral’s supporters include many champions of the status quo, officers of the old school, and Cossack atamans. Such men do not bow gladly to the will of workers and peasants.”

“In that case, I would urge the Admiral to do his best to rein in such men,” Regnault replied, fixing the much younger Russian with a steely gaze. “Though they may have put him in power, they are doing grave damage to his cause. In Saratov and Samara provinces, where talk of land reform is on everyone’s lips, overzealous Siberian officers are said to have restored privileges to large landowners, driving the peasants back into the arms of the Socialists. To gain the popular support he needs, the Admiral must offer bold promises of reform. Till now, not only has he failed to give the muzhik[40] the bird in hand, he won’t even promise him the bird in the bush!”

A ripple of subdued laughter arose among the Allied representatives. Guins and Sukin looked at each other with clenched teeth, and Ned noticed the veins in Sukin’s neck throbbing rapidly.

“As usual, my esteemed colleague states the situation most succinctly,” the British consul agreed, though he was known to despise Regnault in private. “All I would add is that the 1917 Provisional Government failed precisely because it was unwilling to counter Lenin’s promises with those of its own.”

“Sir Thomas, I fear that your analysis confuses promises for performance,” Guins replied in a biting tone that belied his slippery smile. “Promises are cheap and the Bolsheviks will say and do anything to gain power. Yet when our government makes a commitment, you insist on our fulfilling it to the letter. If the Allies insist on applying such a double standard, I despair that we should ever be able to meet it.”

“Surely, each of you must know that Admiral Kolchak’s personal politics are highly progressive, despite certain perceptions to the contrary,” Sukin joined in. But his expression was plaintive, like that of a boxer forced against the ropes amid a merciless pummeling. “The Admiral would like nothing more than to improve the lives of our peasants. Give him a free hand and I assure you it will be done.”

But the net import of Sukin’s plea seemed precisely the opposite of what he had intended. In offering the Allies only vague assurances of reform and insisting that Kolchak be allowed a free hand, Sukin had reinforced the impression that the Admiral had no intention at all of loosening his grip to accommodate genuine reform.