This famed and, perhaps overly, influential book is, if nothing else, a very good read. At almost 1200 pages it doesn’t feel overly long, and that in and of itself is an accomplishment. The english language reader’s enjoyment is greatly accentuated by Max Eastman’s spectacular translation. If one didn’t know better, one would think the three volumes that comprise this book were written in English.
As even his enemies would sometimes acknowledge, Trotsky was a hell of a writer. Here, he adopts a pseudo-observational perspective borrowed in no small part from Thomas Carlyle’s history of the French Revolution. Carlyle’s perspective was psuedo-observational because he was writing as if he were a man on the streets of Paris in 1791, when he would not yet be born until decades later. Trotsky’s observationalism is equally artificial, but for completely opposite reasons. Not only was he alive and present during the events he is describing, but he was one of the key actors in those events. Trotsky, as a writer, certainly is not being modest. Rather, he is trying to make his version of events seem more “objective” by writing about his role in them in the third person. Trotsky the Revolutionary is a key character in Trotsky the Historian’s narrative. It reads as less self-aggrandizing to attribute actions to “Trotsky” rather than to “I/ me/ myself” but, of course, that is what Trotsky is doing. To be fair, however, I think most responsible historians would not claim that Trotsky is overestimating his own importance during the months between the February and October Revolutions. Especially as the latter grew near, he was, more than Lenin who was in hiding, the face of the Bolsheviks to the masses that would kick the Provisional Government out of power.
Trotsky’s writing also shares with Carlyle’s the attribute of being extremely affecting. Both writers beautifully convey the tension of cities convulsing with world changing events, masses hurtling between revolution and reaction, sometimes simultaneously. The main difference is that Carlyle was a beautiful, but pretentious prose stylist, where Trotsky’s language is far more to the point. This is not to say that Trotsky is never pretentious, just that it does not affect his writing style. He loves to show off his intellectualism, sometimes pausing the historical narrative to offer harsh critiques of “bourgeois” literary figures, such as Proust, just to show that while he may not like them, you better believe he’s read them!
Trotsky had a multitude of motivations for writing this history. The first and foremost was financial survival. He wrote it in exile, and publishing was the only means he had to support himself and his family (hence his efforts to make it a page-turner). Secondly, he was trying to counter the Stalinist revisionist lies that were being told about him in the USSR. Thirdly, Trotsky wants to propose his interpretation of the events of 1917 as a kind of blue-print for world revolution. It might not seem so, but this is at heart a theoretical book, and perhaps this is its deepest flaw.
Trotsky rejects notions that the February Revolution that ousted Russian feudalism was, as often proposed, “spontaneous.” Rather, he tries to convince the reader that the February Revolution was the delayed response to the frustrations of the defeated uprisings of 1905, during which the Soviets were founded. This is not unreasonable in and of itself. Indeed, the significance of the worker’s soviets is undeniable. But one must wonder how much Trotsky insists on the paramount significance of 1905 because doing so enhances his own historical significance as he played a leading role in 1905 as, at the time, an opponent of the Bolsheviks.
For Trotsky, Russia did indeed experience a bourgeois revolution and a capitalist phase. The only difference from the other capitalist states is that Russia’s capitalist phase lasted only eight months. Indeed, this nearly 1200 page book is actually the history of capitalist Russia, it’s sudden rise, very short life, and violent death. Trotsky argues that because Russia’s capitalist revolution was so historically late it’s contradictions were, from it’s inception, over-ripe. England had the earliest such revolution. But because it was the first, it’s revolutionary class, the bourgeois, were untested. They therefore formed an alliance with the reactionary feudal class that survives to this day. Russia’s bourgeois had the opposite problem. By the time they took power they were already an old, quasi-decrepid class that’s oppressive nature had already been demonstrated to the proletariat.
Indeed, Russia’s bourgeois, according to Trotsky, never actually took power. The Russian workers swept away the monarchy and then, being as untested and clueless as the English bourgeois had been, gave the power to the bourgeois not knowing what else to do.
One is struck by how marginal a role Trotsky ascribes to the Bolshevik Party, especially in the early sections of the book. In this too, Trotsky has political motivations. During the course of the February Revolution and its direct after-math, the Bolsheviks were being led by Trotsky’s arch enemy Stalin while Lenin was still in exile. Throughout the book Trotsky tries to minimize and marginalize Stalin’s contributions.
But he also has a theoretical motivation for making the Bolsheviks seem initially irrelevant. Perhaps the theoretical core of the book is the proposition of a dialectical relationship between the masses and the “vanguard” represented by the revolutionary party. The masses have power and energy but lack political vision. The vanguard is wise but, in and of itself, impotent. (Trotsky’s interpretation of “vanguardism” is, indeed, elitist, more so than that of Lenin’s conception of the vanguard party as an organization of the most ACTIVE revolutionaries.) The revolutionary process is envisioned by Trotsky as the dialectical process by which the masses empower the vanguard and the vanguard enlightens the masses.
The Bolsheviks, Trotsky insists, consistently proposed the best strategies. But their radical nature was too alien for the inexperienced masses, who still did not understand their own power, to embrace. They turned first to the bourgeois, then to the Mensheviks and Socialist-Revolutionary “compromisers” and even to the anarchists, before they embraced the radical social vision of the Bolsheviks, but, through trial and error, they came to realize the slogans of the Bolsheviks as the best, adopted those slogans, and put the Bolsheviks in power.
This interpretation makes the actual organizational and conspiratorial activity of the Bolsheviks essentially irrelevant. The only significant thing they did, from Trotsky’s perspective, was to put forth the slogans that would properly militarize the masses who in turn empower the Party. Indeed, it might well have seemed that way to Trotsky who did not, after all, join the Bolsheviks until well after the February Revolution and did not know or understand the Party’s activity in Russia in the proceeding years. A veteran, on the ground, Bolshevik activist such as Stalin might reasonably have objected to such a depiction.
Trotsky’s notion of the dynamic between the Party and the masses has had some unfortunate, lasting consequences for the movement that calls itself “Trotskyist.” For many such groups, politics is not about engaging in actual struggle or even interacting with workers. Rather, one must simply put forward the “correctly revolutionary” slogan in one’s tiny newspaper and the workers will, one day, pick up that newspaper, love the slogan and put some obscure little cabal of commies into absolute power. Much partisan silliness has gone down in the name of Trotsky’s theoretical formations, especially in the “advanced” capitalist countries.
As much as Trotsky is imagined to be the commie-anti-Stalin, I found myself seeing as many similarities between the two men as differences. Trotsky insists that the revolutionary process he describes is not just a description of how the Bolsheviks took power in Russia but of how the working class in all countries can be victorious. Similarly, Stalin thought that only communist parties that precisely copied the format of the Bolsheviks could, or should, take power. Trotsky’s account is far more cosmopolitan and nuanced than that of Stalin, but in the end it is as absolutist.
Lenin does, indeed, seem the most thoughtful of the three most celebrated leaders of Bolshevism. He never lost sight of the fact that his struggle was, at least initially, a Russian one and that the strategies embraced were reactions to particular contexts and particular challenges. Furthermore, he was unafraid to admit that some strategies had been mistaken and should be rethought or rejected. As Marx was “definitely not a Marxist” Lenin could be said to not be a Leninist. Stalin was an absolute Stalinist and Trotsky was, alas, a Trotskyist.