Kiev 1911 - A stuttering Bogrov
Kiev, august 1911
The assassin paused for a second [1]. He wanted to say something, to utter an immortal sentence that would echo in the centuries, or at least in the revolutionary circles to which he belonged. After a second that felt like eternity, he managed to utter in a shrieking voice: “Sic semper, ehm, eh…”
This second of hesitation proved fateful. Stolypin lurched sideways – the first bullet hit him in the shoulder, the second hit poor old Count Frederickz, who died instantly. There was no third bullet – Bogrov was pushed aside by an officer of the Guards who ran into him like a bull. Seconds later, he was on the floor, disarmed, held by three policemen. The assassination had failed. Bogrov hung, Stolypin lived, conservative and monarchist newspapers fell over themselves about the “miraculous hand of God” who had, once again, saved the Prime Minister’s life.
The Tsar, who had entertained the thought of dismissing Stolypin, now felt compelled to let him stay in office, at least for a few months. Stolypin, whose attempted murder had raised his profile in conservative circles, used that respite to strengthen his position and hold onto power, ending up surviving the political crisis of summer 1911 like he had the previous ones.
1912: The War Minister Sukhomlinov obtains the dismissal of his deputy, Polivanov, who is (rightly) suspected of links with liberal parliamentarian circles. Polivanov’s dismissal spells the end of the « military renaissance » provoked by the defeat against Japan. The “Young Turks », as were dubbed the energetic and reformist officers close to Polivanov, are gradually set aside.
1912-1913: Crisis in the Balkans - Stolypin's dismissal
As he had done during the Bosnian crisis of 1908, Stolypin spoke firmly against war. Like four years earlier, Russia was simply not ready to jump into a continental war against Austria and Germany. His reforms needed at least ten more years of peace to deflect the threat of revolution. The reconstruction of the armed forces was still far from complete (something that Sukhomlinov, the War Minister, could not dispute). Stolypin advocated for a diplomacy of restrain and cautiousness, a rapprochement with Germany in order to inspire some sense into Vienna and, on the domestic front, a crackdown of the nationalist, panslavist campaign which raged in Russia, fanned by firebrand Slavophiles like Guchkov and Grand Duke Nikolaï Nikolayevich.
The restraint and cautiousness showed by the Russian government during the crisis of 1912-1913 brought nothing good to Stolypin: he suffered a steep loss of popularity within Slavophile and nationalist circles. Most crucially, Stolypin lost his good standing amongst Octobrist and Nationalist parties, his only allies within the Duma.
For the Sovereign and the Court cliques, this was the perfect occasion to get rid of Stolypin, who had long overstayed his welcome. In March 1913, Stolypin tended his resignation after one of his domestic projects (better social insurance for the workers) was rejected by the State Council. It was not the first time that Stolypin had used the threat of resignation to strong arm the Sovereign into supporting his policies, but, this time, Nicholas accepted, while privately thanking him for his reforms and his uncompromising stance in favour of peace during the Balkan crisis's of 1908 and 1912-1913. To be sure, the Tsar was not unhappy to be rid of such an overbearing figure, who had crystallized so much hate and rancour at the Court and within educated society.
The dismissal of Stolypin did not spell the end of his influence, which played a key role in the appointment of his successor. Indeed, Stolypin convinced his close ally, Minister of Agriculture Krivoshein, to take the helm of the government. Stolypin knew that in Krivoshein he had a devoted and capable ally, who would unfailingly pursue his agrarian reforms. Not only was Krivoshein a much more faithful ally of Stolypin than Kokovtsov, he was also more widely respected than the Minister of Finances, whose venomous relations with most of the other ministers would have deprived his premiership of any authority. Krivoshein was reluctant at first to jump into the spotlight, but Stolypin’s insistence eventually convinced him to accept[2].
The appointment of Krivoshein would ensure that the agrarian reforms of Stolypin remained the linchpin of the government for the years to come. As Krivoshein would tell Krizhanovsky (another devoted ally of Stolypin, who retained his post of deputy Minister of Interior under Krivoshein) in December 1913: “If we keep up the pace of agrarian reform for the next ten years, we will succeed in turning the Russian muzhik into a conservative landholder”. This was echoed by Stolypin who, from his country estate of Kovno, wrote to Prince Kudashev, deputy head of mission to Vienna: “I feel optimistic for Russia. Our reforms are taking hold. The society and the press will soon realize that we have done far more for Russia that all their liberal and so-called socialist rants. The only thing that disquiets me, as you know, is the international situation. What you told me in your letter about this feeling of bellicose desperation gripping Vienna… One must hope that Sazonov and Krivoshein will keep a steady hand”.
Alas, it was not to be. Before long war came against on Russia's doorsteps, and, this time, the challenge would be answered.
1914: The July Crisis
As soon as began the crisis which would engulf Europe into the Great War and bring Russia to the edge of the abyss, Krivoshein had written to Stolypin, asking him to return to Petersburg where his counsel and political clout were much needed. Stolypin arrived in the Capital in the last days of July (this “last summer of Europe” that Russian poets would so eloquently sing in the 20’s), as mobilization against Austria was discussed. Received by the Emperor, Stolypin pleaded for restraint, like he had done in 1908 and 1912-1913*. The Emperor listened to him silently without giving much more in return than polite words, as was his custom. Then, a few days later, Krivoshein broke to Stolypin two shocking news: first, the Emperor had, reluctantly, decided for mobilization (a decision that would decisively lead to war, as British historians are ever fond of reminding us). But the other news was even more important, to Stolypin at least: on the advice of Krivoshein, the Emperor had called upon him, His humble servant Peter Arkadyevich, to head His government in these times of trouble.
Stolypin immediately accepted: a deeply devout man, he knew instantly that this was the reason why the Lord had deigned to spare him so many times, in so many brushes-up with death: he, Peter Arkadyevich, was born to lead Russia into this great trial. Immensely proud, Stolypin could not refuse the chance to become, once again, Russia’s saviour. The Emperor formally appointed him on 1st August, the very same day that Germany declared war upon Russia. This was a sad irony that Stolypin, who had always admired Germany and dreamed of himself as a Russian Bismarck, was now tasked with getting the country behind the merciless struggle against Germanic aggression.
The assassin paused for a second [1]. He wanted to say something, to utter an immortal sentence that would echo in the centuries, or at least in the revolutionary circles to which he belonged. After a second that felt like eternity, he managed to utter in a shrieking voice: “Sic semper, ehm, eh…”
This second of hesitation proved fateful. Stolypin lurched sideways – the first bullet hit him in the shoulder, the second hit poor old Count Frederickz, who died instantly. There was no third bullet – Bogrov was pushed aside by an officer of the Guards who ran into him like a bull. Seconds later, he was on the floor, disarmed, held by three policemen. The assassination had failed. Bogrov hung, Stolypin lived, conservative and monarchist newspapers fell over themselves about the “miraculous hand of God” who had, once again, saved the Prime Minister’s life.
The Tsar, who had entertained the thought of dismissing Stolypin, now felt compelled to let him stay in office, at least for a few months. Stolypin, whose attempted murder had raised his profile in conservative circles, used that respite to strengthen his position and hold onto power, ending up surviving the political crisis of summer 1911 like he had the previous ones.
1912: The War Minister Sukhomlinov obtains the dismissal of his deputy, Polivanov, who is (rightly) suspected of links with liberal parliamentarian circles. Polivanov’s dismissal spells the end of the « military renaissance » provoked by the defeat against Japan. The “Young Turks », as were dubbed the energetic and reformist officers close to Polivanov, are gradually set aside.
1912-1913: Crisis in the Balkans - Stolypin's dismissal
As he had done during the Bosnian crisis of 1908, Stolypin spoke firmly against war. Like four years earlier, Russia was simply not ready to jump into a continental war against Austria and Germany. His reforms needed at least ten more years of peace to deflect the threat of revolution. The reconstruction of the armed forces was still far from complete (something that Sukhomlinov, the War Minister, could not dispute). Stolypin advocated for a diplomacy of restrain and cautiousness, a rapprochement with Germany in order to inspire some sense into Vienna and, on the domestic front, a crackdown of the nationalist, panslavist campaign which raged in Russia, fanned by firebrand Slavophiles like Guchkov and Grand Duke Nikolaï Nikolayevich.
The restraint and cautiousness showed by the Russian government during the crisis of 1912-1913 brought nothing good to Stolypin: he suffered a steep loss of popularity within Slavophile and nationalist circles. Most crucially, Stolypin lost his good standing amongst Octobrist and Nationalist parties, his only allies within the Duma.
For the Sovereign and the Court cliques, this was the perfect occasion to get rid of Stolypin, who had long overstayed his welcome. In March 1913, Stolypin tended his resignation after one of his domestic projects (better social insurance for the workers) was rejected by the State Council. It was not the first time that Stolypin had used the threat of resignation to strong arm the Sovereign into supporting his policies, but, this time, Nicholas accepted, while privately thanking him for his reforms and his uncompromising stance in favour of peace during the Balkan crisis's of 1908 and 1912-1913. To be sure, the Tsar was not unhappy to be rid of such an overbearing figure, who had crystallized so much hate and rancour at the Court and within educated society.
The dismissal of Stolypin did not spell the end of his influence, which played a key role in the appointment of his successor. Indeed, Stolypin convinced his close ally, Minister of Agriculture Krivoshein, to take the helm of the government. Stolypin knew that in Krivoshein he had a devoted and capable ally, who would unfailingly pursue his agrarian reforms. Not only was Krivoshein a much more faithful ally of Stolypin than Kokovtsov, he was also more widely respected than the Minister of Finances, whose venomous relations with most of the other ministers would have deprived his premiership of any authority. Krivoshein was reluctant at first to jump into the spotlight, but Stolypin’s insistence eventually convinced him to accept[2].
The appointment of Krivoshein would ensure that the agrarian reforms of Stolypin remained the linchpin of the government for the years to come. As Krivoshein would tell Krizhanovsky (another devoted ally of Stolypin, who retained his post of deputy Minister of Interior under Krivoshein) in December 1913: “If we keep up the pace of agrarian reform for the next ten years, we will succeed in turning the Russian muzhik into a conservative landholder”. This was echoed by Stolypin who, from his country estate of Kovno, wrote to Prince Kudashev, deputy head of mission to Vienna: “I feel optimistic for Russia. Our reforms are taking hold. The society and the press will soon realize that we have done far more for Russia that all their liberal and so-called socialist rants. The only thing that disquiets me, as you know, is the international situation. What you told me in your letter about this feeling of bellicose desperation gripping Vienna… One must hope that Sazonov and Krivoshein will keep a steady hand”.
Alas, it was not to be. Before long war came against on Russia's doorsteps, and, this time, the challenge would be answered.
1914: The July Crisis
As soon as began the crisis which would engulf Europe into the Great War and bring Russia to the edge of the abyss, Krivoshein had written to Stolypin, asking him to return to Petersburg where his counsel and political clout were much needed. Stolypin arrived in the Capital in the last days of July (this “last summer of Europe” that Russian poets would so eloquently sing in the 20’s), as mobilization against Austria was discussed. Received by the Emperor, Stolypin pleaded for restraint, like he had done in 1908 and 1912-1913*. The Emperor listened to him silently without giving much more in return than polite words, as was his custom. Then, a few days later, Krivoshein broke to Stolypin two shocking news: first, the Emperor had, reluctantly, decided for mobilization (a decision that would decisively lead to war, as British historians are ever fond of reminding us). But the other news was even more important, to Stolypin at least: on the advice of Krivoshein, the Emperor had called upon him, His humble servant Peter Arkadyevich, to head His government in these times of trouble.
Stolypin immediately accepted: a deeply devout man, he knew instantly that this was the reason why the Lord had deigned to spare him so many times, in so many brushes-up with death: he, Peter Arkadyevich, was born to lead Russia into this great trial. Immensely proud, Stolypin could not refuse the chance to become, once again, Russia’s saviour. The Emperor formally appointed him on 1st August, the very same day that Germany declared war upon Russia. This was a sad irony that Stolypin, who had always admired Germany and dreamed of himself as a Russian Bismarck, was now tasked with getting the country behind the merciless struggle against Germanic aggression.
[1] This is the POD.
[2] OTL, Krivoshein was offered the post twice, in August 1911 (after Stolypin's assassination) and in 1914 (after Kokovtsov's dimissal) – he refused each time, believing that he would be more influential behind the scene. It was mostly true, but it would prove dramatically incorrect in July 1914 (a good Stolypinist, Krivoshein was very cautious about entering the war) and in 1915 (where Krivoshein argued against Nicholas II assuming the command of the armed forces).
* My first idea was to get Stolypin to convince the Emperor to avoid mobilization, which would then have permitted to defuse tensions and allow Kaizer Willy's change of heart to play a role in restraining Austria... I toyed with the idea for a while, but after much attempts, I came to the conclusion that it was exceedingly unlikely that Russia would have fallen back against what appeared like a very aggressive move of Austria, aimed at Russia's last ally in the Balkans.
[2] OTL, Krivoshein was offered the post twice, in August 1911 (after Stolypin's assassination) and in 1914 (after Kokovtsov's dimissal) – he refused each time, believing that he would be more influential behind the scene. It was mostly true, but it would prove dramatically incorrect in July 1914 (a good Stolypinist, Krivoshein was very cautious about entering the war) and in 1915 (where Krivoshein argued against Nicholas II assuming the command of the armed forces).
* My first idea was to get Stolypin to convince the Emperor to avoid mobilization, which would then have permitted to defuse tensions and allow Kaizer Willy's change of heart to play a role in restraining Austria... I toyed with the idea for a while, but after much attempts, I came to the conclusion that it was exceedingly unlikely that Russia would have fallen back against what appeared like a very aggressive move of Austria, aimed at Russia's last ally in the Balkans.
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