Chapter IV

Now a few years ago the Bourgeois Party ---- Now I better stop right here early and tell you what that “Bourgeois” word is, what it means and how it is pronounced. There are two main words in Russia--one is “Bourgeois” and the other is “Proletariat,” and “Soviet,” of course, which means Council or Congress, only not quite as bad as our understanding of Congress. Now “Proletariat” means the poor people, or what would be known in America as the Democrats; and the word “Bourgeois” means the rich people, which in America would be known as Republicans; or if they are very rich, the Conservative Republican Party.

Now the word “Proletariat” you can pronounce; even some Congressmen can get it right; but the word “Bourgeois” has bogged down more politicians grammatically than the name Susanne Lenglen. “Bourgeois” is pronounced by the Russians--and it’s theirs, they ought to know--it’s pronounced “Burge-Wah.” So, you see, while Russian spelling is terrible, the pronunciation is generally correct. Now I am just explaining these to you so in using them, as I perhaps will be in future Russian matters, we will understand each other. I really was not sent here to instruct America grammatically--only Diplomatically. But a little Intelligentzia now and then is relished by the best of men, even politicians.

Well, as I started to say, the Bourgeois--remember pronunciation--party sent over Elihu Root years ago on practically the same mission as I was on, but he dident find out much. In fact, if I remember right, he didn’t find out anything. So if I can report on how to pronounce and define three Russian words, I can well report progress.

Now the first thing I want to do is to dispel one generally popular illusion that everybody has to watch one’s conduct while in Russia. Everybody said: “Be very careful what you say or do while in there; they have spies and secret police all over the place. Every waiter or servant in the Hotel, they let on they don’t speak English, but they do, and report everything. It’s that G. P. P., or Cheko, the famous secret-service organization of Russia.”

Well, they had me so scared that New York third-degree police methods wouldent have got a word from me. If anybody said to me, “It’s a nice day today,” I would be afraid even to agree with them. I would just nod my head both ways, kind of a half yes and 50 per cent no. I was as agreeable to everybody as an Insurance Agent before he lands you.

Then a lot of friends had said to me, “Oh, you will get many a laugh out of there; I would like to be with you up there.”

Funny? Say, I was just about the saddest looking thing you ever saw. Claremore, Oklahoma’s favorite light Comedian was in no jovial mood to derive merriment from a Bolsheviki régime that far away from home. I had seen pictures of long trains wending their way across the Trans Siberian Railway, hauling heavy loads of human freight, when nobody had a return ticket but the Conductor, all perhaps for getting funny with Russia.

So if I thought of an alleged Wise Crack, it was immediately stifled before reaching even the thorax. If somebody was going to pull nifties at the expense of the Soviet Régime, I certainly was not going to be the culprit. The whole system of Communism might have openly appeared to me Cockeyed and disastrous, but if I thought so, I would have said it to myself.

No, come to think about it, I wouldent even have said it to myself. I would have been afraid some thought reader would pick it up. I dident want to do anything or say anything that could be used against me. I wanted to get out in the peaceful way I had got in. I wanted to arrive back home 100 per cent whole this fall, to tell my little wheezes to the dissatisfied agrarian popolation, or what is mistakenly called the Rube Belt. I couldent think of a single Prohibition joke that I thought would get over around a Prison Camp fire on the shores of the Behring Straits. You know, I don’t think there is anything as pitiful or sad as a half-scared Comedian. I looked, I absorbed, but I dident utter.

Then for the next popular illusion I was told by everyone, “Oh, they will take care of you; they will just take you around and show you just what they want you to see. You won’t be allowed to see anything. You will be sheperded around to just all the good-appearing things.”

Well, here is the funny part about it: I don’t think there was a soul in Russia that knew I was in there. In fact it kinder hurt my pride when I found nobody was watching me or paying me any attention. You see, it’s so hard to get a Passport in there that I thought when they did give me one I felt kinder like every new Congressman when he first comes to Washington and look for Mr. and Mrs. Coolidge and the Cabinet and Alice Longworth and Walter Johnson all to meet him at the train. Then he comes and prowls around for a week before anybody but his Landlord knows he is there. In fact some stay there for years and nobody ever knows they are there.

Well, that’s the way I felt. ’Course, I dident figure on any public reception. I dident hardly dare to hope for so much as the much-heralded Cossacks to charge and cut the heads off any remaining nobility in Red Square. But I did begin to think if they are going to start showing me about they better be at it. I tell you it was lonesome and humiliating on me. I wanted to hire my own Detective and have him watch me just to keep up the popular tradition.

Well, I went all over the country; drove out to villages, went to other towns, got on the train and made a night’s journey from Moscow to St. Petersburg--or Leningrad was the name of it that week--and wasent stopped or asked a question; and dident even have any passport, as it had been left with the Hotel to give to the Police, as that is their custom.

I run onto an old American boy that was working for a big mining concern and he and I looked at everything there was to see, and a lot of things that if they had been very careful they shouldent have let us see. I talked to various Government officials connected with their Foreign Department, and everywhere had the greatest courtesy and consideration. They explained anything that I would ask them about the government or the country. One thing, though, that a Communist can do is explain. You can ask him any question in the world, and if you give him long enough he will explain their angle, and it will sound plausible then. Communism to me is one-third practice and two-thirds explanation.

I wanted to go in the Kremlin, the old-time Czars’ Castle and Fort. It’s now where all the Government business is carried on. ’Course, you have to have a permit, but they gave it to me and in I went. They give you a Guide who speaks English to take you through. But that was the only place where they furnished me one. Anywhere else I could mess around all over the place. Lenine’s Tomb--the body is just there in a glass case. Well, at the present time you can’t go in there, as they are overhauling or upholstering the body, or something. It’s just a little wooden building outside the Kremlin wall.

I wanted, of course, when I went in there, to see Trotzky. I wanted to write about him and tell how he stacked up with Borah and Young LaFollette and Jim Reed and Al Smith and Sol Bloom and the New York Times man in there, Duranty, who has been there for years and is the best informed man in Russia on their affairs, and a fine congenial little fellow and a godsend to visiting English or Americans. Well, Duranty and I went to see a man about seeing Trotzky. A little fellow named Rothstein, who spoke English and used to work on a paper in England, he has to do with censoring all that goes out to the Press. I told him the nature of the visit to Trotzky was to find out just what kind of a Guy he was personally; that I dident want any of his state secrets. I just wanted to see did he drink, eat, sleep, laugh and act human, or was his whole life taken up for the betterment of mankind. I told him that anything that I wrote would not break up the pleasant relations that existed between our two glorious Nations.

Mr. Rothstein informed me: “We are a very serious people; we do not go in for fun and laughter. In running a large Country like this we have no time for appearing frivolous. We have a great work to perform for the betterment of mankind. We are sober.”

Well, I explained to him that I dident hardly expect Trotzky to make any faces for me or to turn a few somersaults or tell the one about two Hebrews named Abe and Moe. I tole him that the man must have some very good human qualities, and on account of being in America at one time, he has always been of especial interest to us; more than anyone else in Russia since Lenin’s death. I wanted to tell them that what they needed in their Government was more of a sense of humor and less of a sense of revenge.

I saw that this old boy wasent so strong for me X-raying Trotzky. But I bet you if I had met him and had a chat with him, I would have found him a very interesting and human fellow, for I have never yet met a man that I dident like. When you meet people, no matter what opinion you might have formed about them beforehand, why, after you meet them and see their angle and their personality, why, you can see a lot of good in all of them. You know how it is yourself. I bet you have had Political enemies and you would think from your impressions of them that they ought to be quartered in the zoo in the reptile house. Yet when you met them you could see their side and find they wasent so bad, and that you were both trying to get about the same thing in the long run.

Rothstein wants me to stay over one day longer, and he would have me see Tchitcherin. He was the Prime Minister, and naturally would be the main one. But it was Trotzky I want to see if possible. These Prime Ministers, they are so sudden that before I can write you about one of them he may be out and be three Ministers removed from his old position.

But I found out the real reason I dident get to see Trotzky. Trotzky is not in so good with the present government. It may seem rather funny to some to hear he is too conservative for them. He has his ideas how things should run, as he is one of the old-timers in the party. He got so bad as an opposition that the Party shipped him away off down in the Ural’s to get him out of the way. But he is really strong with the people, and there was such a fuss raised over it that they had to drag him back to the capital again and create a job for him; so they made him Minister of Concessions.

Now, on the face of it, that looks like a pretty soft job, for Russia certainly has lots of concessions to peddle out. But they made it so Red-Tapey that he couldent give out the Vodka-selling privilege at the next Revolution without having it passed by an act of the entire Soviet Council; so it really wasent so much of a job as it appeared on the letterhead. He had charge of the Army for a long time, and built up quite a formidable gang.

The real fellow that is running the whole thing in there is a Bird named Stalin, a great big two-fisted fighting egg from away down in the Caucasian Mountains. He is the Borah of the Black Sea. He is kinder the Mellon and Butler combined of the Russian administration. He is the stage manager of Bolshevism right now. He don’t hold any great high position himself, but he tells the others what ones they will hold. He has served his term in Siberia under the Czar. Well, Trotzky is kinder not sitting at his round table at lunch. But the Peasants out in the county are still strong for Trotzky. He sees that there must be some changes made in the way they are running things. The Peasants think they have a kick that they are not getting enough for their grain, and Trotzky is sorter siding with them. So he is called a conservative.

A Conservative among Communists is a man with a Bomb in only one hand; a Radical is what you would call a Two-Bomb Man. They have one in each hand, and will spit a third one at you if possible. But I saw and talked to lots of them in the Government; also met all the gang that they sent out from America that time with Big Bill Haywood--was going to see old Bill, but he was sick in the Hospital and I couldent get to see him. From what I heard, Bill sho would like to get back among the gang in Chicago. If I was Bill, and had that opportunity of going from Russia to Chicago I would give it serious thought before I would make the change.

Met the smartest, brightest old Bolshe fellow in there named George. I don’t know his other name, but you couldent pronounce it if I wrote it. He said he was one of the twenty-two that Judge Landis sent to Leavenworth to break their jump to Russia that time. He is a bright, smart kind of a Duck, but not what I would call a Landis rooter. Met a big nice jovial fellow from Chicago--forgot his name, said he run for President on the Socialist ticket the year Jimmy Cox did. I told him I could faintly remember Jimmy, for he happened to be a good friend of mine; but I couldent remember him. He said he runs pretty near every year on that Ticket--said, “I may run this year.” I told him there was no Presidential election this year unless there was an impeachment.

He said, “Ain’t there? Well, mebbe it’s next year then; I don’t pay much ’tention to what years I am running and what years I am not.”

He was feeling pretty good about the whole way things were running in there, and was very enthusiastic about it all; he was strong for ’em. He had a passport back! I bet if you had stole that passport away from that old Boy you would have just had 284 pounds’ worth of suicide on your hands. The funny part about it among these American ones you meet over there visiting, they are all so nice and friendly and enthusiastic about it, and believe in it away above our form of government; but they all go back over home. It just looks to me like Communism is such a happy-family affair, that not a Communist wants to stay where it is practiced. It’s the only thing they want you to have but keep none themselves. Well, this continuous Presidential Candidate was a mighty nice fellow, and I would like to see him get into the finals some day, even if he don’t win.