As leader and organizer of the Soviet state in its difficult early years, Lenin spoke primarily as a man of action, in terms of current issues. His approach to the problem of intervention was generally that of a politician, not an historian. When he did attempt an historical judgment concerning intervention, he usually did so with a didactic purpose and on the basis of a present-minded philosophy of history. For Lenin, the history of intervention illuminated present problems and served as a guide to future policy.

There were no guarantees in the Russian absolute monarchy against arbitrary arrest, arbitrary search, or violation of the secrecy of mail (three main aspects of personal inviolability) before the reform of the judiciary in 1864. As there was no separation between the administrative and the judicial powers, no difference existed between an arrest or search decided upon as a judicial measure and an arrest or search ordered by the police, whether to prosecute an already committed offense or to prevent a violation of law and order. The statutes of 1864 organized justice as an independent power, and to assure this independence they established guarantees of due process of law.

Addressing the Twentieth Congress of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union in February, 1956, Anastas Mikoyan rhetorically asked, "Is it normal that, although almost forty years have passed since October [1917], we have neither a short nor a comprehensive Marxist-Leninist textbook on the history of the October revolution . . . ?" To this inquiry one can safely reply that the absence of such a book is not only normal, but represents the most salient characteristic of Bolshevik historiography of the October revolution. For forty years Bolshevik historians of the revolution have labored under the most frustrating circumstances.

Endless were the variations on this theme by Socialist orators during the half century preceding World War I. But the more we examine the actual feelings of the "founders of Scientific Socialism," Marx and Engels; the more we study their concrete proposals in a lifetime of activity; the more we examine, too, the everyday voice as against the holiday voice of the leaders of the Socialist Parties; and finally, the more closely we study the real workingman as against the image of him painted in such works as the Communist Manifesto—the more this assurance of internationalism dissolves into air.

Russian Fourierism of the 1840's was rooted in soil prepared for it by Russia's nineteenth-century bureaucratic renascence. It was the latter which, having arisen partly as a reaction to the Decembrist Revolution of 1825, brought with it a new relationship of the intellectuals to the state. Russian Fourierists can be understood, therefore, only in relation to other groups of intellectuals and the situation created by the Decembrist Revolution. The Decembrist Revolution marks the end of the political domination of the land- and serfholding nobility, the dvorjanstvo.

Although recurring famine has been removed from the Russian scene by the Communist masters, the Soviet leadership has been sorely tried to keep agricultural production ahead of a rapidly expanding population—an estimated increase of "more than 3,000,000 people every year." Furthermore, not long before his death Stalin noted that the dragging feet of Soviet agriculture were beginning to have an adverse effect upon the expansion of industry. Premier Khrushchev has concentrated his greatest attention upon the serious problems of agriculture. His speech delivered at Minsk January 22, 1958, proposing the removal of the M. T. S. (Machine-Tractor Stations) as the mainstay of the collective farm system is but the latest in a growing list of changes and new programs he has introduced into Soviet agriculture.

The situation of scientific and scholarly thought in the Soviet Union is perhaps most clearly illuminated by a comparison of the status of the natural and applied sciences (technology, medicine, agricultural sciences) with that of the social and human sciences. It is true, the ideology of the state requires certain beliefs to be professed also with regard to the reality of nature, and readers of the official Soviet journal of doctrine, Problems of Philosophy, would, for instance, learn that important developments in modern science like Heisenberg's principle of indeterminacy, or cybernetics, or symbolic logic are being condemned as contrary to materialism. However, if readers were to conclude that Soviet science and technology are at present in fact operating without the benefit of these concepts and tools, they would be utterly mistaken.

There is no better introduction to the tale of agony which is the subject of this essay than the story of the interview of Bernard Pares and Samuel Harper with Count Witte, which took place sometime during the sitting of the Third Duma. All through the interview the Count treated his questioners rather curtly, but when they asked him for his views of the October Manifesto, he replied: "I have a constitution in my head, but as to my heart……" And he spat on the ground in front of the two astounded gentlemen.

One of the characteristics of Soviet industry is perpetual reorganization of its management. Reorganization has become unusually frequent since the war, for nearly every year some industrial ministries have been abolished, while others have been created. Still others have been split apart or merged. The same processes have occurred at the intermediate and local levels, that is, with the bureaus of ministries, the trusts, and the factory administrations.

Several studies have been carried out in recent years on individual branches of the Soviet economy, and the results are illuminating. We are supplied with heretofore lacking information concerning these branches. Equally important, although the studies highlight factors internal to the industries, they cast much light on the operation of the Soviet economy in general. The present article is based on such a study of the Soviet logging industry. It is hoped that the results, presented in summary form, may provide one more means by which to evaluate the operation and general direction of the Soviet economy.

The reorganization of the administration of industry and construction that is taking place at the present time in the Soviet Union has a significance beyond that of previous major shifts in the economic administration that have occurred since the Soviets came into power. Whereas the nationalization of industry was dictated by Communist ideology and precipitated by contemporary crises, and the periods of War Communism and the NEP were brought about purely by needs for expedient measures and were considered from their inceptions as temporary deviations from policy necessary to the recoupment of productive forces which would eventually end in reversals of tactics once they had served their purposes, the present reorganization stems from needs brought about by the long-term development of industry and is considered by the Soviets to be a permanent reorientation toward decentralization and regional control.

In the second two decades of the nineteenth century the picture of Russia presented in French journalistic writing was fear-inspiring. In particular, during the Napoleonic Wars and, even more pronounced after the advent of Nicholas I to the throne, French publicists initiated anti-Russian campaigns, which were destined to culminate later in the mid-nineteenth century as one of the catalyzing causes in the final alignment of France against Russia during the Crimean War. The purpose of this article is to trace the origins of this Russophobia in French pamphlets, travel books, and other popular works about Russia, as well as in diplomatic reports, before 1830.

At the Twentieth Congress of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union in February, 1956, Nikita A. Khrushchev raised the possibility of "employing the parliamentary form for the transition to socialism." According to the First Secretary,

No such course was open to the Russian Bolsheviks, who were the first to effect this transition . . . Since then, however, the historical situation has undergone radical changes which make possible a new approach to the question. . . . In these [changed] conditions, the working class . . . has an opportunity to defeat the reactionary antipopular forces, to win a firm majority in parliament and to convert parliament from an organ of bourgeois democracy into an instrument of genuinely popular will.

Planning and centralized direction have led inevitably to great dependence on accounting in the Soviet economy. The Soviet leaders have found that detailed accounting is an indispensable instrument of control in directing the activities of their extended hierarchy of manager-bureaucrats. The effectiveness of accounting as an instrument of control in the Soviet economy has been greatly hampered, however, by its primitive technological level. Throughout the Soviet economy, with only rare exceptions, the bookkeeper has traditionally done his work with pen and ink, with no mechanical aids other than the schëty or an occasional arithmometer.

In the study of politics, the concepts of nation and of class have received almost universal recognition as significant tools of analysis. The concept of generation, however, has remained, for students of politics, largely in the twilight zone of knowledge. This is remarkable, for historians and novelists have used it with considerable success, and more recently sociologists have emphasized its fundamental importance.

Of all the Russian political writers of the last two centuries, there is none more eloquent in his demands for justice and liberty than Aleksandr Nikolaevich Radishchev (1749-1802). Honor is due to him as the first Russian to risk his civil service career, his fortune, his family's well-being and his life itself to publish a resounding denunciation of serfdom and arbitrary government. He was the first to warn that, without timely social reforms, revolution would be inevitable and terrible; he was the first to go into exile "to blaze a trail where there was no trace," a trail "for bold men . . . for feeling hearts and for the truth . . . "

On March 21, 1919, the Provisional President of the Hungarian People's Republic, Count Michael Károlyi, resigned and "transferred the power to the proletariat of the Hungarian peoples." The following day the head of the new government, Béla Kun, (whose official title was Commissar of Foreign Affairs), addressed himself "to the workers of the world" with a request to take up arms and defend the young Hungarian Soviet Republic from "imperialist attacks" on four fronts—Rumanian, Serbian, Czechoslovak, and Italian. His appeal was welcomed by the Rumanian, Serbian, Czechoslovak, and Italian workers' representatives at Budapest proclaiming their devotion to the Hungarian Commune almost within sound of the guns of the invading armies marching to destroy it.

The history of the Jewish socialist movement in Russia and Eastern Europe, as well as its relationship to the general revolutionary movement in the Russian Empire are, for the most part, little known to the American student of Russia and Eastern Europe. This deficiency is due, in some measure, to the fact that until a comparatively recent time, source materials have been available in this country to a limited degree. As a result of World War II, the large East European concentration of Jews was broken up, the great majority of the members of that community having been killed, and the remaining few scattered to all corners of the globe.

At the moment when Gomulka returned to power Poland was facing bankruptcy. The productivity of labor had fallen to its lowest point since 1918 when the country regained its independence. Its social structure was in an advanced state of disintegration as all social organizations—professional, cultural and political—taken over by the Communists and blocked as channels of public opinion were deserted by the masses. Finally the public authority and government, in all its departments and on all levels, deprived of the power of decision, lost authority, initiative and the ability to act.

The year 1956 may be regarded as the third milestone in the postwar history of private initiative in Poland.

Until 1949, the official attitude towards private initiative was one of relative toleration. The basic concept was that in a period of reconstruction of the economy, the private or "third" sector could coexist with the State and cooperative sectors without infringing the canons of socialist economics. However, even in that period, a number of legal, administrative, and economic measures were taken, the effect of which was to restrict the scope of activity and stunt the growth of private initiative.