Written in the first half of September 1903.

First published in 1927 in Lenin’s Collected Works, Volume VI.

Printed from the manuscript.

The first page of V. I. Lenin’s manuscript “Account of the Second Congress of the RSDLP” – 1903 (reduced in size).

This account is intended solely for personal acquaintances; therefore, reading it without the author’s (Lenin’s) consent is akin to reading someone else’s private correspondence.

To facilitate understanding of what follows, I will first outline the composition of the Congress, though this will inevitably involve a degree of anticipatory exposition. The Congress had 51 decisive votes—33 delegates with one vote each and 9 with two votes, along with 9 “dual-vote” delegates{2}. There were, if I am not mistaken, 10 advisory votes, bringing the total number of participants to 52. The political alignment of these votes, as it emerged throughout the course of the Congress, was as follows: among the decisive votes, 5 belonged to the Bundists, 3 to the Workers’ Group (2 from the Union of Russian Social Democrats Abroad{3} and 1 from the St. Petersburg “Union of Struggle”{4}), 4 to the Southern Workers’ Group (2 from the “Southern Worker” group{5} and 2 from the Kharkiv Committee, which stood in full solidarity with the “Southern Worker”), 6 were undecided, wavering—what some jokingly, and not entirely without reason, referred to as the “swamp,” all of them adhering to the Iskra line—but then there were roughly 33 Iskrists, more or less steadfast and consistent in their Iskra-oriented stance. These 33 Iskrists, who, while united, always held sway over the outcome of every question debated at the Congress, in turn split into two subgroups, finally cleaving apart only toward the end of the Congress: one subgroup comprised roughly 9 Iskrist votes—those following a “soft, rather zigzagging line” (or, as some wits quipped—and not without justification—the “women’s line”)—Iskrists who, as we shall see below, championed justice, the principle of equilibrium, and the like—and around 24 votes belonging to the Iskrist hardliners, who upheld a consistent Iskra approach both in tactics and in the personnel composition of the Party’s central organs.

I repeat: this grouping took definitive shape and became fully apparent only post facto, toward the end of the Congress (which held up to 40 sessions!), and I am advancing ahead of time by sketching out this alignment at the outset. I should also note that this grouping provides only an approximate count of votes, since on certain minor issues—and once, on the question of “linguistic equality,” as we shall discuss below—as well as on larger matters, votes were often divided, some abstained, groupings intermingled, and so forth.

The composition of the Congress had been determined in advance by the Organizational Committee{6}, which, according to the Congress’s statutes, had the authority to invite whomever it deemed appropriate to the Congress, granting them advisory votes. From the very beginning, the Congress elected a commission tasked with verifying credentials—a commission that ultimately assumed responsibility for everything pertaining to the Congress’s composition. (Incidentally, the commission included a Bundist who, through sheer persistence, wore down all the commission members, keeping them occupied until 3 a.m. and yet still insisting on holding “a separate opinion” on every single issue.)

The Congress commenced amid peaceful, harmonious work among all the Iskrists, though differences of opinion were, of course, always present; yet these nuances did not surface publicly as political disagreements. It is worth noting in advance that the split within the Iskra faction was one of the Congress’s principal political outcomes, and anyone seeking to understand the proceedings must therefore pay particular attention to all episodes—even remotely connected—with this schism.

One of the most significant acts at the very outset of the Congress was the election of the Bureau—or Presidium. Martov advocated for the selection of nine individuals, each of whom would choose three members for the Bureau at every session, even including a Bundist among those nine. I, on the other hand, argued for electing just three members for the entire Congress—and, moreover, three who would “keep things strictly in order.” The candidates selected were Plekhanov, myself, and Comrade T. (about whom we will speak frequently below—a hardline Iskrist and member of the OK). The latter, however, was elected by a narrow margin, defeating a single Southern Worker (also a member of the OK). The disagreement between me and Martov over the Bureau—disagreement that proved characteristic of the Congress’s subsequent trajectory—did not, however, lead to any split or conflict: the matter was settled peacefully, almost naturally, “in a family-like manner,” much as most affairs within the Iskra organization and the Iskra editorial board{7} were typically resolved.

The Congress’s early days also saw (of course, secretly and informally) a meeting of the Iskra organization to deliberate on its own credentials for the Congress. That meeting likewise reached a peaceful, “amicable” resolution of the issue. I mention this meeting only because I consider it emblematic, first, of the Iskrists’ harmonious working relationship at the Congress’s outset, and second, of their decision to turn, in cases of doubt or dispute, to the authority of the Iskra organization (or, more precisely, to the members of the Iskra organization present at the Congress)—though, of course, the votes of these assemblies carried no mandatory weight, since the rule—“imperative mandates have been abolished”—held that each delegate could and ought to cast their vote at the Congress according to their own personal, free conviction, without submitting to the dictates of any organization whatsoever. This rule, I would say, was universally recognized by all Iskrists and was loudly proclaimed by the chair at nearly every Iskra meeting, right from the start.

Further. The first incident at the Congress—revealing that not all was well among the Iskrists, and serving as the “precipitating event” of the final drama (or tragicomedy?)—was the infamous “OK Incident.” This incident merits close examination. It occurred while the Congress was still engaged in its own constitutional deliberations, when the Congress’s rules of procedure were still under discussion—rules that, incidentally, consumed an enormous amount of time due to the obstructionist tactics of the Bundists, who seized every opportunity, both deliberate and inadvertent, to slow things down wherever and however they could. The essence of the OK Incident lay in the fact that, on the one hand, the OK had rejected, even before the Congress convened, the protest lodged by “Bor’ba” (the “Bor’ba” group{8}), which had demanded that a certain individual be admitted to the Congress—and had upheld this rejection in the Credentials Committee; yet, on the other hand, the very same OK suddenly announced at the Congress that it was inviting Ryazanov to participate with a consultative vote. The unfolding of this incident proceeded as follows.

Even before the Congress sessions began, Martov confidentially informed me that a member of the Iskra organization and a member of the OK (let us refer to this individual by the letter N) had resolved to press for the admission, within the OK, of a person whom Martov himself could describe only as a “defector”{9}. (This individual had, in fact, at one time leaned toward Iskra, only to later—after just a few weeks—switch sides and join “Rabocheye Delo”{10}, despite the latter already being in a state of complete decline.) Martov and I discussed the matter; both of us were outraged that a member of the Iskra organization would take such a step, fully aware—as Martov had warned Comrade N—that this move amounted to a direct slap in the face to Iskra, and yet we nonetheless deemed it unnecessary to consult with the organization itself. N did indeed submit his proposal to the OK, but the proposal was rejected thanks to the impassioned protest of Comrade T, who laid bare the utterly volatile political character of the “defector.” Significantly, Martov told me that even then he could no longer bring himself to speak with N—despite their previously good personal relations—so deeply had he been shaken by this development. N’s tendency to throw obstacles in Iskra’s path was further evidenced by the reprimand issued by the OK, with N’s support, against the editorial board of Iskra—a reprimand that, while concerning a rather trivial matter, nonetheless stirred up Martov’s profound indignation. Reports from Russia, relayed to me also by Martov, indicated that N was actively spreading rumors of discord between Iskra’s émigré members and its Russian comrades. All of this left the Iskrists thoroughly distrustful of N—and then came this additional development: the OK rejected the protest of Bor’ba, and the OK members (T and N), when called upon to serve on the Credentials Committee, both—N included!!!—voted decisively against Bor’ba. Nevertheless, during a break in one of the morning sessions of the Congress, the OK suddenly held a meeting at the “window” and, in that session, decided to invite Ryazanov to participate with a consultative vote! N was in favor of the invitation. T, of course, was firmly opposed, pointing out that such a decision by the OK was unlawful, especially since the question of the Congress’s composition had already been referred to a special Credentials Committee, appointed by the Congress itself. Naturally, the Southern Workers’ faction within the OK—along with the Bundists and N—overrode Comrade T, and the OK’s decision was adopted.

T informed the editorial board of Iskra about this decision; the board—though not in full strength, but including Martov and Zasulich—unanimously resolved to confront the OK at the Congress, for many Iskrists had already spoken publicly at the Congress against Bor’ba, and there was no room for retreat on this issue.

When the OK (during the afternoon session) announced its decision to the Congress, T, in turn, declared his protest. A Southern Workers’ member of the OK then turned on T, accusing him of disciplinary misconduct (!), since the OK had resolved—not to disclose this fact to the Congress (sic![1]). Understandably, we (Plekhanov, Martov, and I) launched a fierce attack on the OK, charging it with reinstating imperative mandates, violating the Congress’s sovereignty, and so forth. The Congress sided with us; the OK was defeated, and a resolution was adopted stripping the OK, as a collegial body, of its authority to influence the composition of the Congress.

Such was the “OK Incident.” First, it finally shattered the political trust that many Iskrists had placed in N—and strengthened their trust in T; second, it not only demonstrated but also made vividly apparent how precarious the Iskra line remained, even in such a central institution—indeed, an institution that had long been regarded as quintessentially Iskra-like—as the OK. It became clear that, besides the Bundists, the OK also harbored: 1) Southern Workers with their own distinct political agenda; 2) “Iskrists ashamed to be Iskrists,” and only a subset (3) of Iskrists who were not ashamed of their Iskra affiliation. When the Southern Workers sought to explain themselves to the editorial board of Iskra—privately, of course—about this unfortunate incident—and it is worth noting that Comrade N showed no desire whatsoever to offer an explanation at that time—the editorial board engaged in dialogue with them. Indeed, I told the Southern Workers directly that the Congress had finally exposed a major political reality: the existence within the Party of many Iskrists who were ashamed to be Iskrists—and who, simply in defiance of Iskra, were capable of pulling off such a maneuver as inviting Ryazanov. What particularly outraged me about N’s conduct—following his speech in the Credentials Committee against Bor’ba—was that I publicly stated at the Congress: “Comrades who have attended international congresses know full well that whenever people say one thing in committees and something entirely different on the floor of the Congress, they invariably stir up a storm of indignation there”[2]. Such “Iskrists,” who feared the Bundists’ reproaches that they were “puppets of Iskra,” and who therefore resorted only to political maneuvers aimed at undermining Iskra—could, of course, never inspire confidence in themselves.

The Iskra members’ general distrust of N had grown to an enormous degree when Martov’s attempt to engage in a dialogue with N culminated in N’s declaration—on the very day of the conference—that he was withdrawing from the Iskra organization!! From that moment on, the “affair” concerning N passed into the hands of the Iskra organization itself; its members were outraged by this sudden departure, and the organization convened four meetings to address the issue. These meetings—especially the final one—were of paramount importance, for it was during these sessions that the split within the Iskra group finally took definitive shape, centering primarily on the question of the composition of the Central Committee.

But before I turn to the account of these (private and informal, I must reiterate) meetings of the Iskra organization, let me first speak about the proceedings of the congress itself. At that time, the work of the congress proceeded in a spirit of unity and concerted action among all Iskra members—and not only on the first item on the agenda (the place of the Bund{11} within the party), but also on the second (the Party Program) and the third (the ratification of the Party Central Committee). The Iskra members’ unanimous support ensured a substantial, cohesive majority at the congress—a compact majority, as the Bundists lamented with no small measure of frustration! Meanwhile, even the “indecisive” elements—and the Southern Workers, who, in their own petty ways, repeatedly revealed their utter instability—made their presence felt once again. The political faction within the congress that did not fully align with the Iskra camp became increasingly apparent.

Returning now to the meetings of the Iskra organization: at the first session, it was decided to request an explanation from N, while at the same time asking N to specify in what capacity he wished to engage in dialogue with the Iskra organization. I strongly objected to this approach, insisting on separating the political question—namely, the Iskra members’ lack of trust in N on a political level—from the personal question: namely, the appointment of a commission to investigate the reasons behind N’s peculiar behavior. At the second meeting, it was reported that N intended to explain himself without T, although N claimed he had no intention of speaking personally about T. I protested once more, refusing to take part in such an explanation unless the non‑member in question would, if only for a brief moment, step aside and allow a member of the organization to speak—not about him, but about the issues at hand. To me, this amounted to a deeply unworthy game, a slap in the face dealt by N to the organization: N did not even trust the organization enough to let it determine the terms of the explanation! At the third meeting, N delivered his “explanation”—an explanation that failed to satisfy the majority of those present. The fourth meeting brought together the full contingent of Iskra members—but it was preceded by a series of crucial episodes that unfolded during the congress.

First, it is worth noting the episode surrounding “linguistic equality.” The matter at hand concerned the adoption of the Party Program, specifically the formulation of the demand for equality and equal rights with regard to language. (Each clause of the Program was debated and adopted separately; the Bundists mounted fierce obstruction, and nearly two-thirds of the congress’s time was consumed by the discussion of the Program!) The Bundists managed to sow doubt among the Iskra members, planting in some of them the notion that “Iskra” did not truly seek “linguistic equality”—when in fact the Iskra editorial board had merely opposed that particular, in their view ill‑conceived, absurd, and altogether superfluous formulation. The struggle was intense; the congress found itself divided into two roughly equal halves—though some abstained. On the side of “Iskra” (and the Iskra editorial board) stood roughly 23 votes—perhaps 23–25, though I no longer recall the exact figure—and just as many votes were cast against. The question had to be postponed and referred to a committee, which ultimately crafted a formula that was unanimously adopted by the entire congress. The incident involving linguistic equality is significant because it once again exposed the fragility of Iskraism, revealing, in no uncertain terms, the wavering nature of the indecisive elements—who, if I am not mistaken, were precisely the ones that the Martovist Iskra members themselves had come to call “the swamp”—as well as the Southern Workers, who had consistently opposed “Iskra.” Passions ran high, and sharp words were hurled without restraint against the Southern Workers by the Iskra members, especially the Martovists. During a break, one Martovist “leader” came perilously close to a full-blown altercation with the Southern Workers—and it was then that I hastened to reconvene the session (at Plekhanov’s urging, who feared a brawl). It is important to note that even among those 23 Iskra members who proved most steadfast, the Martovists—those Iskra members who would later follow Martov—were in the minority.

Another episode involved the struggle over §1 of the Party Statute. This was already the fifth item on the agenda[3], nearing the end of the congress. (Under item 1, a resolution opposing federalism had been adopted; under item 2, the Party Program was approved; under item 3, “Iskra” was recognized as the Central Organ of the Party[4]; under item 4, the “delegational reports” were heard—some of them were accepted, while the remainder were referred to a committee, since it became clear that the congress no longer had sufficient time left—its financial resources and human energy had been exhausted.)

Point 1 of the Party Statute defines the concept of a party member. In my draft, this definition read as follows: “A member of the Russian Social-Democratic Workers’ Party shall be anyone who recognizes its program and supports the Party both through material contributions and by personally participating in one of the Party’s organizational units.” Martov, however, proposed replacing the underlined words with: “by working under the control and guidance of one of the Party’s organizational units.” Plekhanov championed my formulation, while the remaining members of the editorial board—represented at the Congress by Axelrod—supported Martov’s version. We argued that it was necessary to narrow the definition of a party member in order to distinguish those who actually work from mere talkers, to eliminate organizational chaos, and to put an end to such absurdities and contradictions as the existence of organizations composed of individuals who are nominally party members yet do not qualify as bona fide Party organizations—and so on. Martov, by contrast, advocated for the broadening of the Party, speaking of a wide-ranging class movement that required a loose, even vaguely defined, organizational structure, and so forth. Ironically, almost all of Martov’s supporters cited What Is to Be Done? [5] in defense of their views! Plekhanov vehemently opposed Martov, pointing out that Martov’s Joresist formulation would open the door to opportunists—those who were only too eager to exploit this very position within the Party and beyond its organizational framework. “Under control and guidance,” I argued, meant in practice nothing more and nothing less than: without any real control whatsoever, and without any genuine leadership whatsoever [6]. Martov emerged victorious here: his formulation was adopted—by a margin of roughly 28 votes to 23, or thereabouts—I no longer recall the exact figures—with the support of the Bund, which, of course, immediately recognized where the loophole lay and, with all five of its votes, pushed through “the worse option” (the delegate from Rabocheye Delo {12} justified his vote for Martov precisely on this basis!). The heated debates over § 1 of the Statute and the subsequent balloting once again clarified the political alignments at the Congress and vividly demonstrated that the Bund plus Rabocheye Delo could determine the fate of virtually any resolution, siding with the minority of Iskra adherents against the majority.

Following the debates and balloting on § 1 of the Statute, the final (fourth) meeting of the Iskra organization took place. The disagreement among the Iskra members regarding the composition of the Central Committee had become fully apparent and triggered a split within their ranks: some stood by the Iskra Central Committee (in light of the dissolution of the Iskra organization and the Liberation of Labor group {13}, as well as the need to carry the Iskra cause to completion), while others favored admitting Southern Workers and upholding the Iskra line of “zigzagging tactics.” Some were categorically opposed to Candidate N, while others were in favor. In a last-ditch effort to reach a compromise, this meeting was convened, bringing together 16 members of the Iskra organization—though, I repeat, advisory votes were also counted. The ballot yielded the following results: 9 votes against N, 4 votes for him, and the remaining members abstained. Faced with this outcome, and unwilling to risk a full-blown conflict with the minority, the majority proposed a conciliatory list comprising five individuals—including one Southern Worker (who would appeal to the minority) and one militant member of the minority; the remaining Iskra members were staunch adherents (and, importantly, one of them had only joined the fray toward the very end of the Congress and was, in fact, entirely impartial, while two others had not taken part in any of the clashes at all and remained utterly unbiased in personal matters). Ten hands were raised in favor of this list (later, one more vote was cast, bringing the total to 11), while only one voted against—Martov alone! The remaining members abstained. Thus, Martov had effectively scuttled the conciliatory list. Afterward, two more “militant” lists were put to a vote, one from each side—but both garnered only a minority of votes {14}.

In the final meeting of the Iskra organization, the Martovites remained in the minority on both issues; nevertheless, they declared war when a member of the majority—whether impartial or serving as chairman—approached them after the meeting in a final attempt to broker an agreement.

Martov’s calculation was clear and sound: the Bundists and Rabocheye Delo members would undoubtedly have supported the zigzag line, for during the month-long sessions of the Congress, all issues had been thoroughly debated, and all personalities had been fully revealed—so much so that not a single delegate would have hesitated to choose: which path was better, or which of the evils was the lesser. For the Bund and Rabocheye Delo, of course, the zigzagging Iskra members represented the lesser of two evils—and always would.

After the meeting of the 16, when the Iskra members had definitively parted ways and war had been declared between them, the two factions began holding separate meetings—private, unofficial gatherings of like-minded comrades, reflecting the divisions that had emerged at the Congress. The Iskra members aligned with the consistent line first assembled in groups of nine (9 out of 16), then 15, and finally 24—counting decisive votes rather than individual persons. This rapid growth was due to the fact that the lists—especially the Central Committee lists—had begun circulating, and Martov’s lists repelled the vast majority of Iskra members at once and irrevocably, appearing as flabby and ineffective: the candidates Martov promoted had made themselves known at the Congress from an unequivocally negative standpoint (waffling, lack of steadfastness, tactlessness, and so on). That was one thing; second, the Iskra members’ growing understanding of what had transpired within the Iskra organization often drew them to the side of the majority—and Martov’s inability to adhere to a consistent political line had become plain to everyone. As a result, the 24 votes coalesced easily and swiftly around the consistent Iskra tactic, endorsing a list for the Central Committee that would select a trio to serve on the editorial board (rather than reconfirming the old, unworkable, and vague six-member committee).

Meanwhile, the Congress had concluded its deliberations on the Party Statute, and once again Martov and Co. had triumphed over the Iskra majority—indeed, not just once, but several times—thanks to the noble support of the Bund plus Rabocheye Delo—for example, when it came to the question of co-optation into central bodies (a matter that the Congress ultimately resolved in accordance with Martov’s vision).

Despite this distortion of the statute, the entire statute as a whole was adopted by all the Iskra members and by the Congress as a whole. But after the general statute, the Congress turned to the Bund’s statute—and by an overwhelming majority, the Congress rejected the Bund’s proposal (to recognize the Bund as the sole representative of the Jewish proletariat within the Party). It seemed that the Bund had become virtually opposed to the entire Congress. The Bundists then walked out of the Congress, declaring their withdrawal from the Party. The Martovists had lost five of their staunchest allies! Then the Workers’ Party members also left, when the “Foreign League of Russian Revolutionary Social-Democrats”{15} was recognized as the Party’s sole organizational entity abroad. The Martovists had lost yet another two of their loyal allies! In the end, the Congress was left with just 44 decisive votes (51–7), of which the majority were cast by the steadfast Iskra members (24); meanwhile, the Martovist coalition with the Southern Workers’ Party and with the “Swamp” together garnered only 20 votes.

The zigzagging line of the Iskra members was now destined to submit—just as the hard-line Iskra members had submitted without a single word of protest when Martov, in coalition with the Bund, had beaten them down and shattered their position. But the Martovists had gone too far: instead of submitting, they chose to provoke a scandal and split the Party.

The scandal lay in raising the question of endorsing the old editorial board—after all, it took only the declaration of a single editor for the Congress to be obligated to consider the entire question of the Central Committee’s composition, rather than simply rubber-stamping the board’s selection. The step toward schism came when the Congress refused to elect either a Central Committee or a Central Committee Bureau.

Let us begin with the election of the editorial board. As noted above, item 24 on the agenda read: “Election of the Party’s central organs.” Yet in my commentary on the agenda{16}—a commentary that had been known to all Iskra members long before the Congress and to every delegate present at the Congress—the margin bore the following note: “Elect three individuals to the Central Committee and three to the Central Committee Bureau.” Consequently, there could be no doubt that the demand to elect a trio had originated from within the editorial board itself—and not a single member of the board had ever contested this demand. Even Martov and the other leading Martovist, in fact, had defended these “two trios” before numerous delegates well before the Congress convened.

Several weeks prior to the Congress, I personally informed Starover and Martov that I would insist on electing an editorial board at the Congress; I agreed to the election of two trios, with the understanding that the editorial trio would either co-opt seven—or even more—individuals, or else remain a single-member body (the latter possibility had been expressly stipulated by me). Starover even stated outright that the “trio” meant Plekhanov + Martov + Lenin—and I concurred with him; for everyone, at all times, it had been perfectly clear that only such individuals could possibly be chosen for leadership positions. One would have had to be enraged, deeply offended, and utterly beside oneself after the struggles of the Congress in order to suddenly turn around and attack the practicality and effectiveness of the trio. The old sextet had been so ineffective that, over the course of three years, it had never once met in full—this may seem incredible, but it is a fact. Not a single one of the 45 issues of Iskra had been composed (in the editorial and technical sense of the term) by anyone other than Martov or Lenin. And not a single major theoretical question had ever been raised by anyone except Plekhanov. Axelrod did not contribute at all (zero articles in Zarya{17}, and only three or four across all 45 issues of Iskra). Zasulich and Starover limited themselves to collaboration and advice, never undertaking any truly editorial work. Who should be chosen as political leaders, as the Party’s core decision-makers—this was as clear as day to every delegate who had spent a month working alongside the Congress.

To bring the question of endorsing the old editorial board before the Congress was nothing short of a ludicrous provocation aimed at stirring up a scandal.

It was ludicrous—not only because it was pointless. Even if the sextet had been endorsed, a single member of the editorial board (I, for example) would have demanded a reorganization of the board, a thorough examination of its internal relations—and the Congress would have been obliged to start all over again.

It was a provocation designed to spark a scandal—not because the non-endorsement was intended to be taken as an offense—but because the very act of re-electing the board carried no inherent insult or grievance. If the Central Committee is elected, then let them also elect the Central Committee Bureau. There is no question of endorsing the Central Committee—so let there be no question of endorsing the old editorial board either.

But it is clear that by demanding endorsement, the Martovists provoked a protest within the Congress; the protest was interpreted as a grievance, an affront, a dismissal, a marginalization… and thus began the endless fabrications that now feed the idle imaginations of gossipmongers!

The editorial board withdrew from the Congress during the deliberations on whether to elect or endorse the board. After fiercely passionate debates, the Congress resolved: the old editorial board would not be endorsed[7].

Only after this resolution did the former members of the editorial board return to the assembly hall. Martov rose to his feet and declined to vote for himself or for his colleagues, uttering all manner of dire and pitiful words about the “siege-like conditions prevailing within the Party” (for ministers who had not been elected?), about “exceptional laws targeting individual persons and groups” (like those who, acting on behalf of Iskra, had presented Ryazanov to the Commission while saying one thing in committee and something entirely different before the Congress?).

I responded to him, pointing out the astonishing confusion of political concepts that led to protests against the election—and against the Congress’s own practice of reorganizing the Party’s official bodies[8].

The elections yielded: Plekhanov, Martov, Lenin. Martov declined once again. Koltsov (who held three votes) also declined. The Congress then adopted a resolution instructing two members of the editorial board to co-opt a third member once they found a suitable candidate.

Following this, three members were elected to the Central Committee—and only one of them was designated by the Congress as the tallyman for the voting slips—while a fifth member of the Party Council was also elected (secretly, by ballot)[18].

The Martovists, along with the entire “Swamp” behind them, did not submit any ballots and instead filed a written statement to the Bureau.

This was a clear step toward schism, toward the disruption of the Congress, and toward the outright rejection of the Party. Yet when one southern worker openly and directly declared that he doubted—yes, doubted—the legality of the Congress’s resolutions, Martov was shamed into retracting his statement and publicly asserting that he had no doubt whatsoever about the legitimacy of those resolutions.

Unfortunately, Martov’s fine, loyal words were not matched by his (and the Martovists’) actions and conduct…

The Congress then referred the question of publishing the minutes to the “Minutes Committee” and adopted eleven tactical resolutions:

1) On Demonstrations.

2) On the Trade Union Movement.

3) On Work Among Sectarians.

4) On Work Among Student Youth.

5) On Conduct During Interrogations.

6) On Factory Stewards.

7) On the International Congress of 1904 in Amsterdam.

8) On Liberals (the Old Believers).

9) On Liberals (Plekhanov).

10) On Socialist-Revolutionaries{19}.

11) On Party Literature.

Afterward, the Congress was adjourned by the Chairman following a brief address that served as a solemn reminder to all of the binding nature of the Congress’s decisions.

Looking back at the Martovists’ behavior after the Congress—their refusal to cooperate, despite the fact that the Central Organizing Committee had officially requested their collaboration[9]; their refusal to work within the Central Committee; their advocacy of boycotts—I can only conclude that this was a reckless, utterly unworthy endeavor on the part of Party members to tear the Party apart… for what? Only because they were dissatisfied with the composition of the central bodies—and objectively speaking, that was the sole point of contention between us. As for the subjective assessments—such as feelings of resentment, indignation, exclusion, dismissal, slander, and the like—they are but the fruit of wounded self‑esteem and a diseased imagination.

This morbid imagination and this resentful self‑regard inevitably lead to the most disgraceful rumors: even before they have come to know or seen the actual activities of the new central bodies, they spread tales of the latter’s “incompetence,” of Ivan Ivanovich’s “tight-fistedness,” of Ivan Nikiforovich’s “kulak tendencies,” and so forth.

To argue that the central bodies are “incapable” by means of boycotting them is an unprecedented and unheard‑of violation of Party duty—and no sophistry can conceal this truth: boycott is a step toward the dissolution of the Party.

Russian social democracy is now facing its final, arduous transition—from the circle-based approach to party life; from a vague, non‑revolutionary consciousness of duty to the conscious recognition of revolutionary obligation; from the practice of operating through gossip and clique pressure to the discipline of organized, principled action.

Anyone who truly values Party work and the cause of the social‑democratic workers’ movement will never tolerate such pitiful sophisms as the “legitimate” or “loyal” boycott of the central bodies. They will never allow the cause to suffer and the work to grind to a halt simply because a dozen individuals are displeased that they and their friends were not selected for the central bodies—nor will they permit officials of the Party to be subjected to private, clandestine pressures through threats of non‑cooperation, through boycotts, through the withholding of financial resources, through gossip and false rumors.