XIII
“Ah, Stukov, Bukharin, I’m glad you could
make it.” Lenin’s raspy voice rang out
clearly as eyes rose to follow the two Muscovian leaders. “As I was saying, we need a respite. I don’t think we should wholly give up on
revolutionary war, but we can’t fight it like this. Our troops are disordered, supply lines are
short. We need time if we are to fight
the capitalist camp. We need out of the
war. Either that or there has been a new
development, the Entente want us on to continue fighting with them. They will send us weapons if we
continue.” Mixed responses echoed
through the large chamber. Murmurs of
agreement were covered by angry voices and eyes flashing towards Bukharin and
Stukov. Lenin too couldn’t help but
glancing up at his friend. Bukharin was furiously
shaking his head.
“Comrade Lenin would have us believe that
we can somehow isolate the capitalist camps.
That if we agree with some of them, we can then call upon the
international proletariat to rise up against them. However, I do think he is right on one issue,
we cannot continue to fight this war alone.
We are weak, we cannot defeat the Germans. We can merely stall them, and if we continue
the war perhaps they will arrive at our very gates. Perhaps they will take Petrograd and Moscow. But is the war lost comrades? If our cities fall, if our armies collapse
and run, is the war lost?” Kolya’s quick
voice silenced the room like a barrage of cannon fire. “I tell you no! This war, the war of revolution, the war on
which all our hopes and dreams rest. It
is not to be fought by raging swaths of gargantuan armies. It is not fought in the muddy trenches on the
edge of marshlands. No, the war we fight
is in the heart of the nation-state as we know it. A complete and utter victory can only be
achieved in the factories, in the hearts of workers round the world. What unites us is our hate of the capitalist
camp! If we compromise we confuse the
very idea that will build a proletarian state.”
“State!
Careful boy.” A gruff old voice
growled out, breaking Kolya’s thoughts just long enough for Stalin to rise to
his feet.
“Comrade Bukharin says the battle can be
carried on if we lose our cities, but I ask him how? He himself wrote of the overpowering strength
of the new menace of state capitalism.
How are we to carry on a war if we have lost the war?” There was a loud roar of agreement as Stalin
returned to his seat, flashing a glance up at his friend. Kolya could hear Ivan’s deep seething breaths
in the background. Kolya held up his
hand to relax his friend before putting them together and placing them to his
lips.
“Comrade Stalin is correct in questioning
my theory. It is, indeed, inherently
flawed. And quite honestly I do not know
how we are to continue the war. But this
much I do know, with the creation of the new state capitalism, we need a world
at war to weaken them enough to stand a chance.
And I ask you, if the war ends, if we fight on the side of capitalists,
how does Marx’s dream survive? Yes, we
survive, but does it come at too high of a price?” Kolya sat down to complete silence. Not even Lenin moved. The room was frozen in time, but it would
soon become a hive of activity again as the debate raged on, until finally,
they ratified Lenin’s motion. Bukharin
had been defeated.
But only just.
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