The Last Hurrah in the East
In the Spring of 1917 the first signs of a crack appeared in the Entente Alliance. In March, Russian liberals and a collection of socialist movements acted to take control of areas of government. A botched ‘revolution’ by a more extreme communist group had been exposed as a German-backed plot, but these more moderate men used the opportunity to claw power away from the Tsar.
They acted in self-interest, but publicly argued that the monarch’s duties of both ruling the country and commanding the Army were far too heavy, and that he must accept assistance for the good of Russia. After the crushing defeats of the early years of the war and the heavy losses in the 1916 offensive, the people were ready for change; although support for the new government was by no means wholehearted, particularly when it became clear that they were determined to continue the war.
It was publicly announced that the Tsar would be withdrawing from day-to-day command of the Army to dedicate his efforts to working on the needs of his people. In fact, the changes were forced upon him (it has been alleged at gunpoint), and he would spend the next few months away from St Petersburg on what amounted to a forced publicity tour. During the so-called ‘negotiations’ in March, he was certainly kept locked in his rooms, isolated from his family until he agreed to make a series of proclamations. The more moderate socialist groups had been persuaded to support the government, in return for promises of greater freedoms after the war, and although there was grave suspicion that such promises might never be honoured, it was enough, for now.
Nevertheless, the shell of the Tsar’s power had been broken, and on the 5th April, he effectively ceased to rule Russia.
The unstable ‘provisional government’ offered a new plan for victory, and chose to stake what credibility it had on a grand new offensive. Command of the Army had passed to a committee, which included professional soldiers and politicians, and the new leaders extracted promises of further supplies of arms and money from the Western Allies, now including the United States, whose leaders looked with cautious favour on the move away from monarchy.
In late June, the Russian Army launched the ‘Kerensky Offensive’ (named after a socialist lawyer who had become Minister for War) against German and Austrian forces. The attacks were as fierce as ever, but were hastily arranged, indifferently led and were quickly blunted by the Germans in the north.
In the south it was a different story, as the Austrians collapsed back along the flanks of the Carpathian Mountains. Przemysl was captured on 1st July, and the army headed on towards Gorlice. This was what the provisional government had hoped for, and wild enthusiasm seized the formerly nervous ministers. The people were assured of a great victory, and there were hopes that Cracow or even Warsaw might be taken. Against the advice of more seasoned commanders, the advance continued.
By the second week of July, the Russians had out-run their supply lines when a German-led force counterattacked on their northern flank. Russian losses were huge; perhaps 150,000 men killed or wounded, while over 200,000 prisoners were taken in the following weeks, as all the captured territory was reclaimed by the Central Powers.
All along the front, Russian officers faced a choice. They could support the new soldiers’ committees, or simply allow their men to walk away. Defending Russia was still a necessity, but defending it in the name of the Provisional Government was difficult to do when face-down in the bottom of a ditch.
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