This is the beginning of my Lenin subsection. As I have mentioned earlier, by and large, I am trying to stick to a kind of chronological order throughout the historical narrative of the Lady section, but not necessarily in a continuous sequence, nor at the expense of a certain flexibility, which is now taking me back to the time before Tsar Nicholas II, and all for a good cause. That is where my prequel to Lenin is situated.
My la forza del destino leitmotif is as always very prominent in this story. The assassination attempt against Emperor Alexander III, made by the inept group of young and inexperienced conspirators, which included a reluctant Alexander Ulyanov, Lenin’s elder brother, might well have succeeded had Alexander II been alive and still the Russian Emperor. However, unlike his reform-minded father, the new Emperor did not stand in the way of Russia’s destiny, and this assassination attempt was easily, virtually playfully, thwarted. Destiny showed her stern face in this case by meting out a disproportionately harsh sentence against a hapless bunch of amateur conspirators whose plans had never been seriously thought through, nor seriously intended to be executed. The message of the death sentences was to convince the public, and, even more importantly, the Emperor himself, that the attempt had indeed been serious.
Ironically, the outcome of this farce was… Lenin. Naturally, it was an unintended consequence, but, once it had materialized, Lenin was immediately destined to become the linchpin of the Bolshevik Revolution.
Lenin, to whom I am now turning my attention, was not born with a silver spoon in his mouth, but he was presented with that spoon at the tender age of seventeen, and, being a man of superhuman ambition, sucked every tiny bit of value out of its silver. And so, our story must start well before this genius of world history had ever become known as Lenin. The year, to which back we fly, is 1887.
In those early years he was Vladimir Ulyanov, and he had a brother Alexander, a student of biology at the University of St. Petersburg. Alexander was in love with his biology classes and was an extremely unlikely prospect to engage in big-time revolutionary activity. But in those years the ammoniac smell of revolution was everywhere, wherever the young were playing the game of dare and double dare. Engaging in some sort of anti-government activity was the thing to do, and it was also the main thrust of peer pressure.
Alexander Ulyanov was drawn into this game too, and the stakes were high. His group was contemplating nothing less than an assassination of Emperor Alexander III six years to the day after the assassination of his father Alexander II in 1881.
But all the participants in the plan were inept and never really serious about it. Their silly conspiracy had no chance to succeed, and had immediately become known to the police, who were now following the group’s every move. The police were aware of course that these kids were by no means some hard-core nihilists, but only an oddball bunch of silly amateurs, who were plotting for fun, and not for the end result. There was no Mr. Big behind them, and no outside connections to watch for, and to track. The question is why the police did not put a stop to this game right away, but allowed it to go on and on, as if playing with fire?
The answer is obvious, yet stunning in its sinister simplicity. The police loved to have a controlled burn on their hands, and wanted to make a big deal out of this case, in order to scare the Tsar into finally leaving his residence in the troublesome St. Petersburg, and moving to the quieter city of Moscow, thus restoring it as Russia’s lawful capital, which was the dream of every Russian nationalist, eventually realized, in 1918, by the Bolsheviks. (To end this storyline right here, Alexander III was not impressed, and, instead of moving to Moscow, chose one of the nearby suburban palaces with a strong iron fence as his new residence!)
Eventually the plot was “discovered.” The conspirators were arrested and put on trial, which was bound to expose their comical incompetence. The case was so ridiculous that it worried the prosecutors that they too were about to lose their face.
And so, they visited the jail and worked on the hapless losers. Nobody tortured anyone into a “confession,” but the defendants were simply given the choice between becoming the laughing stock among their student brethren and the authentic martyrs’ laurels. Noblesse oblige? Mais oui, bien sur! And so it happened that the worm-loving nerd Alexander Ulyanov was the first one to take the bait. The next day in court, he burst into a passionate revolutionary tirade, desiring to save his honor by going up in flames.
The severity of their punishment stunned St. Petersburg, as five death sentences were given out, including one for Alexander Ulyanov. The city residents were intelligent enough to see the defendants for what they were, and could not believe what had just happened…
Thus becoming revolutionary royalty by virtue of his hanging, Alexander Ulyanov did not die in vain. He served his purpose in the cause of destiny, and unwittingly paved the way for his young brother Vladimir to become the unstoppable force that was authorized to change the course of Russian history.
My la forza del destino leitmotif is as always very prominent in this story. The assassination attempt against Emperor Alexander III, made by the inept group of young and inexperienced conspirators, which included a reluctant Alexander Ulyanov, Lenin’s elder brother, might well have succeeded had Alexander II been alive and still the Russian Emperor. However, unlike his reform-minded father, the new Emperor did not stand in the way of Russia’s destiny, and this assassination attempt was easily, virtually playfully, thwarted. Destiny showed her stern face in this case by meting out a disproportionately harsh sentence against a hapless bunch of amateur conspirators whose plans had never been seriously thought through, nor seriously intended to be executed. The message of the death sentences was to convince the public, and, even more importantly, the Emperor himself, that the attempt had indeed been serious.
Ironically, the outcome of this farce was… Lenin. Naturally, it was an unintended consequence, but, once it had materialized, Lenin was immediately destined to become the linchpin of the Bolshevik Revolution.
Lenin, to whom I am now turning my attention, was not born with a silver spoon in his mouth, but he was presented with that spoon at the tender age of seventeen, and, being a man of superhuman ambition, sucked every tiny bit of value out of its silver. And so, our story must start well before this genius of world history had ever become known as Lenin. The year, to which back we fly, is 1887.
In those early years he was Vladimir Ulyanov, and he had a brother Alexander, a student of biology at the University of St. Petersburg. Alexander was in love with his biology classes and was an extremely unlikely prospect to engage in big-time revolutionary activity. But in those years the ammoniac smell of revolution was everywhere, wherever the young were playing the game of dare and double dare. Engaging in some sort of anti-government activity was the thing to do, and it was also the main thrust of peer pressure.
Alexander Ulyanov was drawn into this game too, and the stakes were high. His group was contemplating nothing less than an assassination of Emperor Alexander III six years to the day after the assassination of his father Alexander II in 1881.
But all the participants in the plan were inept and never really serious about it. Their silly conspiracy had no chance to succeed, and had immediately become known to the police, who were now following the group’s every move. The police were aware of course that these kids were by no means some hard-core nihilists, but only an oddball bunch of silly amateurs, who were plotting for fun, and not for the end result. There was no Mr. Big behind them, and no outside connections to watch for, and to track. The question is why the police did not put a stop to this game right away, but allowed it to go on and on, as if playing with fire?
The answer is obvious, yet stunning in its sinister simplicity. The police loved to have a controlled burn on their hands, and wanted to make a big deal out of this case, in order to scare the Tsar into finally leaving his residence in the troublesome St. Petersburg, and moving to the quieter city of Moscow, thus restoring it as Russia’s lawful capital, which was the dream of every Russian nationalist, eventually realized, in 1918, by the Bolsheviks. (To end this storyline right here, Alexander III was not impressed, and, instead of moving to Moscow, chose one of the nearby suburban palaces with a strong iron fence as his new residence!)
Eventually the plot was “discovered.” The conspirators were arrested and put on trial, which was bound to expose their comical incompetence. The case was so ridiculous that it worried the prosecutors that they too were about to lose their face.
And so, they visited the jail and worked on the hapless losers. Nobody tortured anyone into a “confession,” but the defendants were simply given the choice between becoming the laughing stock among their student brethren and the authentic martyrs’ laurels. Noblesse oblige? Mais oui, bien sur! And so it happened that the worm-loving nerd Alexander Ulyanov was the first one to take the bait. The next day in court, he burst into a passionate revolutionary tirade, desiring to save his honor by going up in flames.
The severity of their punishment stunned St. Petersburg, as five death sentences were given out, including one for Alexander Ulyanov. The city residents were intelligent enough to see the defendants for what they were, and could not believe what had just happened…
Thus becoming revolutionary royalty by virtue of his hanging, Alexander Ulyanov did not die in vain. He served his purpose in the cause of destiny, and unwittingly paved the way for his young brother Vladimir to become the unstoppable force that was authorized to change the course of Russian history.
No comments:
Post a Comment