Living My Life - Emma Goldman [270]
At last we reached the great city on the Black Sea, only to find that a devastating fire had laid the main telegraph office and the electric station in ashes the previous day, leaving the city in utter darkness. The holocaust was declared to be the work of White incendiaries, and the city was placed under martial law. The general nervousness was increased by the report that the Poles had taken Kiev and that Wrangel was advancing north. The public had no means of learning the truth of the situation, which only increased their trepidation.
An atmosphere of suspicion and fear dominated the Soviet institutions. All eyes were turned on us as Shakol, Sasha, and I entered the Ispolkom. Our credentials were carefully scrutinized and we were examined as to our identity and purpose before we were permitted to come into the august presence of the predsedatel. 35 [ ... ] All he could do, he told us finally, was to supply us with a pass to the other Soviet departments and with written permission to be out on the streets “after permitted hours.” He could aid us no more and he was not interested in museums, anyhow. It was a sinecure for the intelligentsia, but the workers had more important things to do to defend the Revolution. Everything else was a waste of time, he declared. [ ... ]
As we were walking down the stairs, several young people approached us. They stared at us a moment and then shouted: “Hello, Sasha! Emma! You here?” The unexpected encounter with our comrades from America was a pleasant surprise after the sight of the Bolshevik martinet. [ ... ] Our comrades suggested that we might be aided in our efforts for the museum by our American comrade Orodovsky, who held a responsible position in the city, and there were several others who might also assist us. The Mensheviki, too, could supply us with information and material. They had recently been cleared out of the unions; still, some of them were so influential with the rank and file that the Bolsheviki had not dared to arrest them.
Orodovsky was a first-class printer and a man of a practical turn of mind. He had managed to get into the Government publishing house and he organized it in a manner to astonish the authorities. From the confiscated and neglected materials he formed the best printing shop in the city, and great was his pride in showing us through the place. It was a model of cleanliness, order, and efficient production. His efforts were hampered at every turn; he was not considered one of their “own” and therefore he was under suspicion. He loved the work and he felt he was doing something for the Revolution, but it made him sad to foresee the inevitable approaching. “Ah, the Revolution,” he sighed, “what has become of it?”
Through Orodovsky we were enabled to meet several other anarchists active in the economic department. All of them felt themselves, like Orodovsky, only temporarily tolerated and in constant danger of getting into trouble as men who were “not entirely” with the established standards of opinion. The most interesting of them was Shakhvorostov, of proletarian origin, whose whole life had been spent among the workers. [ ... ]
Shakhvorostov substantiated the charges of widespread sabotage made by our young comrades. He added that, while most Soviet officials were simply inefficient, others were downright sabotazhniky, purposely hampering every effort for the welfare of the people. [ ... ]
A week’s canvass of the Soviet institutions convinced us that, far from exaggerating, our comrades had not painted half the picture