Battle for Life

In the days before the Revolution, one man haunted Russia--he was the arch-conspirator, Gen. Boris Savinkov.

One snowy day in Moscow, the Grand Duke Sergius was blown to pieces at the Kremlin gate--one Kalayev threw the bomb; but the man who engineered the plot was the arch-Terrorist, Gen. Boris Savinkov.

Three Ministers of the Tsar died violent deaths; and three men were hanged for their deeds. They and the girl, Fanny Kaplan, who came within an ace of killing Lenin in 1918, took their orders from the archfiend, Gen. Boris Savinkov.

One gray morning, the body of Father Gapon was discovered on an island in Lake Ladoga, near St. Petersburg. He has been strangled to death, so the police said, by the strong hands of the arch-murderer, Gen. Boris Savinkov.

Then came the Revolution of 1917, with Kerensky at its head; the active support of his regime was the arch-revolutionary Gen. Boris Savinkov.

When Kerensky was ousted by the Bolsheyiki, Savinkov fled to Paris.

In Paris, a Russian was told that his country was enslaved by a tyranny surpassing that of the Tsars. Others told him that his Fatherland was at last free. Recently he decided to go to Russia and find out the truth for himself.

At the frontier, the Bolsheviki were awaiting him. He was imprisoned and brought up for trial at Moscow, scene of many of his assassinations. The opening days of his trial were held in camera. He told his judges that President Masaryk of Czechoslovakia had contributed several thousands of dollars to a murder plot against Lenin, Trotzky and other Bolsheviki. He told of his disagreement with Lenin--how he had advocated murder and Lenin had advocated the organization of the proletariat to oust the Tsar from his throne. He told of a plot to kill Rakovsky (now Charge d'Affaires in Great Britain), and Foreign Minister Tchitcherin in Berlin as they returned from the Genoa Conference in 1922. He told of many more interesting things.

The final day of the trial came last week; and the Soviet Government opened the courtroom to the public. There was the Supreme Judge of the Military Tribunal, Ulrich, guarded by three stalwart soldiers. There was Kamenev, Acting Chairman of the Council of People's Commissars, sitting with his beautiful wife. Side by side sat Krassikov, President of the Supreme Court; Kursky, Commissioner of Justice; Minjiniki Elyava, Head of the Trans-Caucasian Federation; Karl Redek, famed diplomat; another arch-devil, Bela Kun, quondam Red Dictator of Hungary. In the dock a small man, quite bald, about 45, dressed in a cheap double-breasted grey sack suit and a thin black tie. His face was reminiscent of a youthful Napoleon, but "cadaverous and drawn with deep shadows under the eyes." He was unafraid and viewed the spectators lazily. He was the arch-desperado, Gen. Boris Savinkov.

The trial began. "Make your final statement," said the Judge. Replied the prisoner, in a low, weak voice:

"I am not afraid to die. I know your sentence already, but I do not care. I am Boris Savinkov, who always played on the threshold; Boris Savinkov, revolutionary and friend of revolutionaries, to be judged now by your revolutionary court.

"I am here by my fault, my unwilling fault. You represent the Russian people--the workers and the peasants. Judge me for my faults, my unwilling faults, toward Russia."

After reviewing his ghastly life as a Terrorist, he pleaded with outstretched hands for his life; or, if he was still impervious to his fate, his words belied him:

"I turned against you for four reasons: First, my life's dream had been the Constituent Assembly. You smashed it; and iron entered my soul. I was wrong. Our Russia isn't ready for self-government. You knew it; and I didn't. I admit my fault.

"Second, the Brest-Litovsk Peace, which I regarded as a shameful betrayal of my country. Again I was wrong; and you were right. History has proved it; and I admit my fault.

"Third, I thought that Bolshevism couldn't stand, that it was too extreme, that it would be replaced by the other extreme of monarchism and that the only alternative was the middle course. Again I was proved wrong and again I admit it.

"Fourth, and most important reason, I believed that you didn't represent the Russian masses--the workers and peasants. I have lived always in the water-tight compartment of the conspirator. I knew nothing of the feelings of the Russian masses. But I thought that they were against you; and so I, who have given my life to their service, set myself against you also."

He then told the court why he had come back to Russia. His reason was that he wanted to find out the truth, "to see it with my own eyes, to hear it with my own ears."

"Now I know," he went on, "and my life is cheap as the price of that knowledge. I say here before your court, whose sentence I know already, surrounded by your soldiers, of whom I have no fear, that I recognize unconditionally your right to govern Russia. I ask not your mercy. I ask you only to let your revolutionary conscience judge a man who has never sought anything for himself, who has devoted his whole life to the cause of the Russian people. But I add this: Before coming here to say that I recognize you, I have gone through worse suffering than the utmost you can do to me."

The presiding Judge announced a 15-minute interval.

Said Kursky: "I think he is telling the truth. And, what is more, our investigations have shown no attempt on his part to start Terrorist activities here nor to get in touch with anti-Bolshevik organizations. For one thing, there are no such organizations in existence, though he may not know that. Any way, I believe he is honest."

Bela Kun dissented: "Savinkov is a bold fellow, who has always carried his life in his hands. But he is a romantic creature, not a Marxist. He has been tracked and threatened a thousand times and has lived ever in an atmosphere of murder and sudden death. Now he is up against it and, like the true romantic, gives us a beautiful story."

The 15 minutes were up. Said Judge Ulrich:

"We have heard your statement. Have you anything more to say before judgment is passed upon you?"

The prisoner replied: "I know your sentence and I don't care. I am not afraid of it nor of death. But one thing I do fear--that the Russian people will misjudge me and misunderstand my life and its purpose. I never was an enemy of the Russian people. I have devoted my life to serving them. I have made mistakes, but I die unashamed and unafraid."

There was another adjournment, after which the court passed sentence upon the die-hard revolutionary, Gen. Boris Savinkov, but recommended him to mercy. Gen. Savinkov knew then that he would not die.

Karl Radek summed up the trial: "It's a perfect melodrama. Cesare Borgia in the role of Hamlet. What an amazing scoundrel is this Savinkov, drenched in blood, yet compelling us to believe in his sincerity, making us understand and even share his soul's agony! For me, I would shoot him out of hand. He is so utterly the plotter, so profoundly devoted to murder and destruction as to be incapable of anything else. And yet the man has elements of greatness. In his warped mind, I believe there is a genuine devotion to Russia, who needs the service of all her sons so much. Perhaps, after all, it is better that he live."