Gentlemen! A number of speakers have already addressed the Duma, setting forth the principal views of various parties on the question of land. It is time to draw certain conclusions. It is time to provide ourselves with a clear and precise answer to the following questions: What is the essence of the dispute? What are the difficulties inherent in the agrarian question? What are the fundamental positions of all the major parties whose representatives have spoken in the Duma? In what respects do the different parties fundamentally and irreconcilably diverge on the issue of land?

In the Duma, four principal perspectives on the agrarian question were articulated by representatives of the four major parties—or party currents. Deputy Svyatopolk-Mirsky outlined the views of the “Right Wing,” encompassing under this label the Octobrists, Monarchists, and others. Deputy Kutler expounded the standpoint of the Cadets, or the so‑called “Party of Popular Freedom.” Deputy Karavaev presented the views of the Trudoviks. He was essentially supplemented by deputies Zimin, Kolokolnikov, Baskin, and Tikhvinskiy, who shared his basic convictions. Finally, my comrade Tsereteli set forth the views of the Russian Social-Democratic Workers’ Party. The government representative, Minister Vasilchikov, articulated the government’s position—which, as I shall demonstrate in my subsequent speech, boils down to a compromise between the views of the “Right Wing” and those of the Cadets.

Let us now examine the core tenets of these four political orientations on the agrarian question. I will begin in the order in which the deputies spoke in the Duma—that is, starting with the Right Wing.

The fundamental stance of Deputy Svyatopolk-Mirsky is the position held by all so‑called “monarchist” parties and by the Octobrists—a view shared by the vast majority of Russian landowners. Deputy Svyatopolk-Mirsky expressed it superbly in his own words: “Thus, gentlemen, let us abandon the idea of expanding the area of peasant land ownership—except in exceptional cases where genuine land scarcity prevails” (I am quoting from the report published in the newspaper “Tovarish,” which is the most comprehensive source, since the stenographic records have not yet been released).

This is well said: direct, clear, and simple. Abandon the notion of increasing peasant landholdings—this is the true position of all right-wing parties, from the Union of the Russian People to the Octobrists. And we know full well that this is precisely the outlook of the majority of Russian landowners—and of landowners of other nationalities inhabiting Russia.

Why do landowners advise peasants to abandon the idea of expanding peasant landholdings? Deputy Svyatopolk-Mirsky explains: because landlord estates are better organized than peasant holdings, “more cultured” than peasant farms. Peasants, he says, are “dull, dark, ignorant.” As he puts it, they simply cannot manage without the guidance of landlords. “As the priest, so the parish,” quipped Deputy Svyatopolk-Mirsky. He clearly believes that the landlord will always remain the priest, that the peasants will always be docile sheep, forever ready to be sheared.

But always, Mr. Svyatopolk-Mirsky? Always, gentlemen landowners? Oh, would that you did not err in this regard! Could it not be that the peasants have remained “docile sheep” precisely because they were too “dark and ignorant”? Yet today we all see that the peasants are becoming conscious. Peasant deputies in the Duma are turning not to the “Right Wing,” but to the Trudoviks and the Social Democrats. Speeches like that of Svyatopolk-Mirsky can help even the darkest of peasants discern where the truth lies—whether it is truly worthwhile to support those parties that counsel peasants to abandon the idea of expanding their landholdings?

That is why I wholeheartedly welcome the speech of Deputy Svyatopolk-Mirsky—and the speeches of all future speakers from the right-wing benches on this very issue. Carry on in the same spirit, gentlemen! You are doing an excellent job of opening the eyes of even the most obscure of peasants!

They say: landlord estates are more cultured than peasant holdings… Peasants cannot do without the guidance of landlords!

But I say to you: the entire history of landlord landownership and estate management in Russia—and all available data concerning contemporary landlord estates—demonstrate that landlord “guidance” has always meant, and continues to mean, boundless violence against the peasantry, endless abuse of the dignity of peasant men and women, and the most shameless, brazen, and unprecedented exploitation—by any standard—in the world (in Russian terms, this means: robbery) of peasant labor. Such crushing oppression and utter destitution—as that suffered by the Russian peasantry—cannot be found not only in Western Europe, but even in Turkey.

My comrade Tsereteli has already spoken about how landed estates were distributed to courtiers and favorites of the royal “circles.” I wish to draw your attention to the question of estate management, raised by Deputy Svyatopolk-Mirsky, who spoke of the infamous “culture” of the landlords.

Does this deputy know what peasants refer to as “work dues” or “panshchina”? What does economic science call “work‑based farming”?

The estate-based serfdom was a direct legacy, a living remnant of the feudal, corvée-driven economy of the landed gentry. What, then, was the essence of serfdom? It lay in the fact that peasants received from their lord a plot of land sufficient to sustain their families, but in return they were obliged to work three days—or sometimes even more—on the lord’s land. Instead of paying laborers in cash, as is now the universal practice in urban areas, peasants were paid in kind: with land. The meager plot of land granted by the lord barely sufficed to feed the peasant himself; and for this meager sustenance, both the peasant and his entire family were expected to till the lord’s fields using nothing but peasant-owned horses, peasant-made tools, or “household implements.” Such was the essence of serfdom: a pittance of land as compensation for labor; the cultivation of the lord’s land through peasant labor and peasant implements; the coercion of the peasant into working under the lash of the lord. Under such an arrangement, the peasant himself was bound to become a serf, for without forceful compulsion no man, however small his plot, would ever willingly work for the lord. And as for what serfdom meant for the peasantry—well, the peasants themselves know all too well, remember it only too vividly.

Serfdom is officially declared abolished. Yet in reality, the landlords still hold power in their hands—thanks to the lands they have plundered—and today they continue to keep the peasant in serf-like dependence, through the institution of labor dues. Labor dues are, in essence, modern-day serfdom. When my comrade Tsereteli, in his speech on the government’s declaration, spoke of the serf-like character of the landed gentry’s landholding and of the entirety of Russia’s present state authority—he was met with outcry from a newspaper that fawned before the government, a paper named “Novoe Vremya,” which cried foul at the truth spoken by Deputy Tsereteli. No, the deputy of the Social Democratic Workers’ Party spoke the truth. Only utter ignoramuses or venal scribblers could deny that labor dues are a direct relic of serfdom—that our landed gentry’s economy rests upon the institution of labor dues.

What, then, is the essence of labor dues? It lies in the fact that the lord’s land is not cultivated with the lord’s own implements, nor by hiring wage laborers, but rather with the implements of the peasant, who has been bound into servitude by a neighboring landlord. And the peasant is driven into bondage because the landlord has seized the finest tracts of land, relegating the peasant to “sand” and forcing him onto a meager allotment. The landlords have taken so much land that not only is it impossible for the peasants to run a proper household—but there is scarcely even room to let a chicken roam free.

In 1861, the provincial committees of the landed gentry, together with the landlords—who served as peace mediators (they were called “peace mediators,” presumably because they favored the landlords){71}—liberated the peasants in such a way that fully one-fifth of all peasant land ended up confiscated by the landlords! They liberated the peasants in such a way that, after this wholesale plunder, the peasants were forced to pay three times the going rate for the plot of land that remained in their possession! It is no secret that during the “redemption” of 1861, the peasants were made to pay far more than the actual value of the land. Nor is it a secret that the peasants were compelled not only to redeem their land, but also to buy their own freedom. And it is no secret that the “benefit” of the state-sponsored redemption lay in the fact that the treasury extracted from the peasants far more money for the land—in the form of redemption payments—than it had actually paid to the landlords! It was a fraternal alliance between the landlord and the “liberal” official, united in their common purpose of robbing the peasant. If Mr. Svyato-Polk-Mirsky has forgotten all this, then surely the peasants have not. If Mr. Svyato-Polk-Mirsky does not know this, let him read what Professor Janson wrote thirty years ago in his “Essay on Statistical Research into Peasant Allotments and Payments”—and what has since been repeated a thousand times in statistical and economic literature.

In 1861, the peasants were “liberated” in such a way that they immediately found themselves caught in the lord’s snare. The peasant was so oppressed by the land seized by the landlords that he was left with no choice but to starve to death—or to enter into bondage.

And even the “free” Russian peasant in the twentieth century was still compelled to enter into bondage with his neighboring landlord—exactly as the “smerty” (whom “Russian Justice” refers to as peasants{73}) had done in the eleventh century, when they entered into bondage and “registered” themselves under the protection of the lords!

Words changed, laws were enacted and repealed, centuries passed—but the essence of the matter remained the same. Labor dues are, in essence, the bond of servitude that binds the peasant, who is forced to cultivate the neighboring landlord’s lands using his own implements. A labor‑based economy is, in effect, nothing more than a renewed, rebranded, repackaged version of the old serfdom.

To clarify my point, let me offer one of the countless examples that fill the literature on peasant and landlord economies. There exists an extensive publication issued by the Department of Agriculture, dating back to the early 1890s and based on data collected from landowners regarding the system of landlord agriculture in Russia (“Agricultural and Statistical Information Obtained from Landowners.” Published by the Department of Agriculture. Vol. V. St. Petersburg, 1892). This data was processed by Mr. S. A. Korolenko—not to be confused with B. G. Korolenko; not a progressive writer, but a reactionary official—such was Mr. S. A. Korolenko. In the book he edited, on page 118, one can read:

“South of the Yelets District (in Oryol Governorate), in large landed estates, alongside cultivation by year‑round laborers, a substantial portion of the land is tilled by peasants who rent the soil from their former landlords. The former serfs—listen closely, Mr. Sviatopolk-Mirsky!—continue to lease land from their erstwhile masters and, in return, work the land for them. Such villages still bear—note this!—the name ‘barshchina’ of so‑and‑so landlord.”

This was written in the 1890s, thirty years after the infamous “emancipation” of the peasantry. Thirty years after 1861, the same “barshchina” persisted; the very same practice of cultivating the land of former landlords with peasant implements was still in place!

One might object that this is an isolated case. But anyone familiar with landed estates in Russia’s Central Black Earth Region—anyone who has even glanced at the fringes of Russian economic literature—must acknowledge that this is not an exception, but rather the general rule. In the truly Russian governorates—precisely those where genuinely Russian landlords held sway—(no wonder they are so dear to all true Russians on the right!)—labor‑rental farming still predominates to this day.

Let us turn, for example, to a well‑known scholarly work such as the book “The Influence of Harvests and Grain Prices,” compiled by a group of researchers. This book was published in 1897. It demonstrates, with regard to the following governorates—Ufimskaya, Simbirskaya, Samarskaya, Tambovskaya, Penzenskaya, Orlovskaya, Kurskaya, Ryazanskaya, Tulskaia, Kazanskaya, Nizhegorodskaya, Pskovskaya, Novgorodskaya, Kostromskaya, Tverskaya, Vladimirskaya, and Chernigovskaya—that labor‑rental farming was the dominant form of agricultural management—namely, in seventeen Russian governorates.

What does the prevalence of labor‑rental farming signify?

It means that the landlord’s land is cultivated using the very same peasant implements—and the labor of a ruined, impoverished, and enserfed peasant. Such, then, is the “culture” of which Deputy Sviatopolk-Mirsky spoke, and of which all defenders of landlord interests speak. Of course, landlords possess better livestock, whose lives in the master’s stables are far more comfortable than those of the peasant in his rustic hut. Of course, landlords reap superior harvests, for the landlord committees had already seen to it back in 1861 to strip the best lands from the peasants and assign them to the landlords themselves. Yet one can speak of the “cultured” nature of Russian landlords’ farms only in mockery. In the vast majority of estates, there is no landlord-run farm at all; instead, the same peasant economy persists: the land is plowed by a weakened peasant horse, and tilled with old, worn‑out peasant tools. Not a single country in Europe has preserved, to this day, this kind of serfdom—this system of large and even larger tracts of land worked by enserfed peasants—except for Russia.

The landlord’s “culture” is nothing other than the preservation of landlord‑based serfdom. The landlord’s culture is usury directed against the impoverished peasant, whom they exploit like a sticky trap, binding him with obligations for every tenth of a plot of land, for grazing rights, for access to water, for timber, for every pud of flour lent to a starving peasant in winter at exorbitant interest rates—rates that amount to a ruble of money extorted from a peasant family under the guise of a loan…

And yet these gentlemen on the right still talk of the exploitation of peasants by Jews, of Jewish interest rates! Indeed, thousands of Jewish merchants could never extract as much from a Russian peasant as the truly Russian, Orthodox landlords do! No interest rate—even the worst usurer’s rate—can compare with the rates charged by a truly Russian landlord who, in winter, hires peasants for summer work or forces them to pay, in cash, in labor, in eggs, in chickens, and who knows what else, for every tenth of a plot of land!

It may seem like a joke—but this bitter jest bears too close a resemblance to the truth. Here is a concrete example of what a peasant pays for just one tenth of a plot of land (a case taken from Karyshev’s renowned book on peasant leases): for one tenth of a plot, the peasant must cultivate one and a half tenths of a plot, bring ten eggs and one chicken, and provide one woman’s day of labor (see page 348 of Karyshev’s book).

What is this? “Culture,” or the most shameless form of serfdom‑based exploitation?

Those who seek to make Russia and Europe believe that our peasants are fighting against “culture” are spreading blatant falsehoods about the peasantry—slandering the peasantry. That is untrue! Russian peasants are fighting for freedom against serfdom‑based exploitation. The peasant movement has spread widest, grown boldest, and the peasant struggle against landlords has been fiercest precisely in those truly Russian governorates where genuine Russian serfdom has been most deeply entrenched, where labor‑rental arrangements, bondage, and the abuse of impoverished, indebted peasants have taken deepest root!

Labor‑rental practices do not endure by force of law—according to the law, the peasant is “free” to starve to death!—they endure by virtue of the peasants’ economic dependence. No laws, no prohibitions, no “supervision” or “guardianship” can do anything whatsoever to eradicate labor‑rental arrangements and bondage. To eradicate this plague afflicting the Russian people, there is but one remedy: the abolition of landlord‑owned landholdings, for in the vast majority of cases, these remain, to this day, serfdom‑based property—both the source and the foundation of serfdom‑based exploitation.

All manner of talk about “helping” the peasants, about “improving” their lot, about “assisting” them in acquiring land—and similar rhetoric, beloved by landlords and officials alike—all ultimately amount to empty excuses and evasions, once the fundamental question is laid bare: whether to preserve or abolish landlord‑owned landholdings.

This is where the crux of the matter lies. And I must particularly caution the peasants and peasant deputies: we must not allow this fundamental issue to be sidestepped. We must not place our trust in any empty promises or fine words—until we have settled the most crucial question: will landlord land ownership remain in the hands of the landlords, or will it be transferred to the peasants? If landlord land ownership is preserved, then serf labor and debt bondage will persist. Poverty will continue, and millions of peasants will face constant famine. The agonizing, slow death by starvation—that is what the preservation of landlord land ownership means for the peasantry.

To make clear the true nature of the agrarian question, we must recall the key figures concerning the distribution of land ownership in Russia. The most recent statistical data on land holdings in Russia date back to 1905. These data were compiled by the Central Statistical Committee through a special survey, though the full results have yet to be published. However, the main findings are already known from newspaper reports. In European Russia, the total land area is estimated at around 400 million desyatins. Of the 395.5 million desyatins for which preliminary data are available, 155 million desyatins are owned by the state treasury, the appanages, the Church, and various institutions; 102 million desyatins are held by private individuals; and 138.5 million desyatins constitute allotment land belonging to the peasant commune.

At first glance, one might assume that the state treasury owns the largest share of land—and that, therefore, the real issue does not lie with landlord lands at all.

But this is a common misconception, one that must be dispelled once and for all. While the state treasury does indeed hold 138 million desyatins, almost all of this land is located in the northern provinces—Arkhangelsk, Vologda, Olonets, and other regions where agricultural cultivation is simply impractical. According to precise statistical calculations (to which I may refer, for example, to Mr. Prokopovich and his book “The Agrarian Question in Figures”), even the government itself could not possibly acquire more than a little over 7 million desyatins of state-owned land suitable for redistribution to the peasants.

Thus, we cannot seriously discuss state-owned land. Nor can we talk about resettling peasants in Siberia. As the labor deputy in the Duma has already made abundantly clear, if the landlords truly believe in the benefits of resettlement in Siberia, let them go there themselves! The peasants might well agree to that… But when it comes to the idea of alleviating peasant hardship through Siberia, they would likely meet such proposals with nothing but scorn.

When it comes to the Russian provinces—especially the central black-earth regions, where peasant need is most acute—the question concerns landlord lands and nothing else. It is futile, then, for Deputy Svyatopolk-Mirsky to speak of “exceptional cases of land scarcity.”

Land scarcity in central Russia is not an exception—it is the rule. And the peasants are cramped precisely because the landlords have long enjoyed far too much comfort, far too much spaciousness in their estates. “Peasant scarcity” means that the landlords have seized vast tracts of land.

“Peasant land insufficiency” means landlord land abundance.

Here, gentlemen, are simple, clear figures: peasant allotment land totals 138.5 million desyatins; privately owned land amounts to 102 million desyatins. How much of this latter category is held by large landowners?

Seventy-nine and a half million desyatins of land are owned by those who possess more than 50 desyatins each.

And how many individuals actually own this enormous expanse of land? Fewer than 135,000 (the exact figure is 133,898 owners).

Reflect carefully on these numbers: out of more than 100 million inhabitants of European Russia, just 135,000 people control nearly 80 million desyatins of land!!

Meanwhile, 12.25 million peasant allotment households collectively hold 138.5 million desyatins.

For every large landowner—let us say, for the sake of simplicity, for every landlord—there are 594 desyatins of land.

For every peasant household, there are only 11.3 desyatins.

And this is what Mr. Svyatopolk-Mirsky and his allies call “exceptional cases of genuine land scarcity”! How can there not be universal “scarcity” among the peasantry when a handful of wealthy landowners—just 135,000 individuals—hold an average of 600 desyatins each, while millions of peasant households have only 11 desyatins per farm? How can there not be “land insufficiency” among the peasants when landlord landownership is so vast and so excessive?

Mr. Svyatopolk-Mirsky advised us to “abandon the idea” of expanding peasant land holdings. No, the working class will not abandon this idea. The peasants will not abandon this idea. Millions upon millions cannot afford to abandon this idea—they cannot halt their struggle to achieve their goal.

The figures I have presented clearly reveal what the struggle is really about. Landlords, who on average possess 600 desyatins per estate, are fighting to defend their wealth and their incomes—which likely amount to more than 500 million rubles annually. And the largest landlords are very often also the highest-ranking officials. As my comrade Tsereteli rightly pointed out, our state defends the interests of a small clique of landlords, rather than the interests of the people. It is no surprise, then, that both the bulk of the landlords and the entire government are fighting with fierce determination against the demands of the peasantry. Throughout human history, there has never been a single instance in which the ruling and oppressive classes voluntarily renounced their rights to domination, to exploitation, to the thousands of rubles in income derived from enslaved peasants and workers.

The peasants, for their part, are fighting to break free from bondage, from corvée labor, and from the feudal system of exploitation. They are striving to secure the means to live a life that is at least somewhat human. And the working class fully supports the peasants in their struggle against the landowners—supporting them in the interests of the workers themselves, who likewise bear the yoke of landlord oppression—and doing so in the interests of all social development, which is held back by the oppressive rule of the landed gentry.

To show you, gentlemen, what the peasants can and ought to achieve through their struggle, I will present a brief calculation.

Minister of Agriculture, Mr. Vasilchikov, declared: “The time has come to address this question not so much through eloquent rhetoric as through figures, facts, and hard reality.” I wholeheartedly, utterly agree with the Minister. Yes, yes—exactly so, gentlemen: more figures, more figures concerning the scale of landlord land ownership and the extent of peasant allotment holdings. I have already presented figures indicating just how much “surplus” land belongs to the landlords. Now let me turn to the figures illustrating the peasants’ actual need for land. On average, as I have already noted, each peasant household possesses 11/3 dessiatins of allotted land. Yet this average conceals the true extent of the peasants’ land requirements, since the majority of households hold allotments below the average, while only a tiny minority possess allotments above the average.

Out of 12.25 million peasant households, 2.86 million households—rounding up—have allotments of less than 5 dessiatins per household. Three million 320 thousand households own between 5 and 8 dessiatins. Four million 810 thousand households own between 8 and 20 dessiatins. One million 100 thousand households have between 20 and 50 dessiatins, while only a quarter of a million households possess more than 50 dessiatins (and even these households, on average, likely own no more than 75 dessiatins per household).

Let us assume that 7.915 million dessiatins of landlord-owned land are made available for expanding peasant landholdings. Let us further assume that the peasants—according to the words of a proponent of the Peasants’ Union, Priest Tikhvinsky—do not wish to impoverish the landowners and instead reserve 50 dessiatins for each of them. This may be an excessively generous allocation for such “cultured” gentlemen as our landlords, but for the sake of illustration, let us take this figure for now. After deducting 50 dessiatins for each of the 135,000 landlords, 72 million dessiatins of land would become available for the peasants. There is no justification for subtracting forests from this total—as some writers, such as Mr. Prokopovich, whom I have often cited, have done—since forests also generate income, and it is simply impossible to leave that income in the hands of a handful of landlords.

Add to these 72 million dessiatins the convenient state-owned lands (up to 7.3 million dessiatins), then all the appanage lands (7.9 million dessiatins), as well as church and monastic lands (2.7 million dessiatins)—and you arrive at a total of up to 90 million dessiatins[24]. This sum is more than sufficient to expand the landholdings of even the poorest peasant households to at least 16 dessiatins per household.

Do you understand, gentlemen, what this would mean?

It would represent a tremendous step forward—a step that would lift millions of peasants out of starvation, raise the standard of living for tens of millions of workers and peasants, and make it possible for them to live a life that is at least somewhat human, akin to the lives led by the relatively cultured citizens of a “cultured” state—not like the dying remnants of today’s Russian peasantry. Of course, this would not eliminate all poverty and oppression among the working people—(for that, a transformation of capitalist society into a socialist one is required)—but it would greatly ease their struggle for liberation from such conditions. As I have already pointed out, more than six million peasant households—over half of all peasant households—possess less than 8 dessiatins per household. Their landholdings would more than double, nearly triple.

This means that half of the peasantry—perpetually impoverished, constantly hungry, driving down wages for urban workers in factories and plants—half of the peasantry could finally begin to feel like human beings!

And can Mr. Svyatopolk-Mirsky, or his like-minded colleagues, seriously advise millions of workers and peasants to abandon the idea of such a perfectly feasible, entirely attainable, and long-overdue way out of their intolerable, desperate plight?

But that is not all: not only could the greater half of the poorest peasant households nearly triple their landholdings at the expense of our overly land-rich landlord gentry—but beyond those six million poor households, there are nearly five million (precisely 4.8 million) additional peasant households that own between 8 and 20 dessiatins. Among these five million families, no fewer than three million are undoubtedly struggling to make ends meet on their meager allotments. And these three million households could increase their landholdings to 16 dessiatins per household—increasing them by one and a half times, and in some cases even doubling them.

In total, we find that out of the 12.25 million peasant households, as many as nine million households could dramatically improve their circumstances—and the circumstances of the workers whose wages they would cease to depress!—by taking advantage of the vast tracts of land still owned by landlords who are far too land-rich and far too accustomed to the old feudal mode of farming!

Such are the figures that reveal the stark contrast between the extensive landholdings of the large landowners and the meager landownership of the peasantry. I fear deeply that these figures and facts will not please the lover of numbers and facts, His Excellency Minister of Agriculture Vasilchikov. For after urging us to rely on concrete data, he went on to say in his speech:

“…At the same time, we must express our concern that the hopes many place in the implementation of such (that is, broad-ranging) land reforms may, when weighed against the actual figures, stand little chance of being fully realized…”

Dialectics, self-movement, and cognition—these are the fundamental categories through which we must grasp the unfolding of history. Imperialism, as the highest stage of capitalism, is not merely a historical phenomenon; it is the culmination of class relations that have been shaped by the relentless drive of capital to accumulate surplus value at the expense of labor. The bourgeoisie, the ruling class of modern society, seeks to perpetuate its dominance by exploiting both the proletariat and the petty bourgeoisie, while simultaneously consolidating its control over the means of production and the superstructure of society. Yet, in the very heart of this system lies the seeds of its own destruction: the class struggle between the proletariat and the bourgeoisie, a struggle that is not only inevitable but also historically necessary for the emancipation of humanity.

The proletariat, the working class, is the vanguard of this revolutionary process. It is precisely because the proletariat embodies the most advanced form of social labor—and thus the most potent force for social transformation—that it bears the burden of leading the struggle against exploitation and oppression. The Soviets, as organs of workers’ self‑government, represent the concrete expression of this revolutionary potential. Through the dictatorship of the proletariat, the working class can seize power, dismantle the old order, and establish a new society based on the principle of common ownership of the means of production. This is no mere utopia; it is the logical outcome of historical development itself—a society in which the fruits of labor are shared equitably among all members of society, free from the shackles of private property and class hierarchy.

Yet, even as we advance toward this goal, we must confront the formidable obstacles posed by the forces of reaction. The petty bourgeoisie, though often portrayed as a “middle class,” is in reality a class caught between the hammer of the bourgeoisie and the anvil of the proletariat. Its interests are inherently contradictory: it seeks to preserve its modest wealth while simultaneously aspiring to a higher standard of living. But such aspirations can only be realized through the overthrow of the capitalist system—a task that requires not only the mobilization of the proletariat but also the conscious participation of the petty bourgeoisie in the revolutionary struggle. Only by uniting these two classes under the banner of socialism can we hope to achieve the ultimate goal of human liberation.

Now, let us turn to the question of agrarian reform—the cornerstone of any socialist program. The agrarian question is not simply a matter of redistributing land; it is a question of fundamentally reorganizing the relationship between humans and nature, between labor and the products of labor. The peasants, who constitute the vast majority of the population in Russia, have long suffered under the yoke of feudal serfdom and later under the exploitative practices of the bourgeoisie. Their demands for land reform are not merely economic—they are demands for dignity, for justice, and for the right to shape their own destinies. To ignore these demands would be to betray the very principles upon which socialism is founded.

But how, then, are we to address the objections raised by those who oppose the peasants’ demands? At first glance, these objections may seem reasonable—after all, who could possibly object to the idea of granting land to the peasants? Yet, if we examine these objections closely, we quickly discover that they are rooted in a deeply flawed understanding of history and class relations. For instance, some argue that the peasants’ demands are impractical or even counterproductive, claiming that they would lead to chaos and undermine the stability of the state. Others contend that the peasants’ demands are too radical, suggesting that they should be tempered or limited in scope. But such arguments betray a fundamental misunderstanding of the dialectical nature of social change: revolution is not about gradual reform; it is about breaking with the old order and constructing a new one from the ground up.

Take, for example, the argument put forward by Mr. Kutler, a representative of the so‑called “People’s Freedom” party. In his speech, Kutler repeatedly emphasized the need to protect private property—not just land, but all forms of property, including movable and immovable assets. He argued that the destruction of private property would be “the greatest injustice,” especially when other forms of property still exist. Yet, as we know from Marx’s analysis, the abolition of private property is not an end in itself—it is a means to an end: the establishment of a society in which the means of production are collectively owned and controlled by the producers themselves. To insist on preserving private property, even in the face of profound social inequality, is to perpetuate the very conditions that give rise to exploitation and oppression.

Mr. Kutler’s reasoning, while seemingly rational, ultimately reveals a profound contradiction: he argues that the destruction of one form of injustice—private property—is unjust unless all forms of injustice are abolished. But what does this really mean? Is it truly just to destroy one form of injustice while leaving others untouched? If we take Kutler’s logic to its logical conclusion, we arrive at a paradox: the “greatest injustice” becomes the preservation of all forms of injustice—except for the one that happens to be the most convenient to eliminate. Such a stance is not only intellectually inconsistent; it is morally bankrupt. For the proletariat, the path to true justice lies not in compromise or moderation, but in the uncompromising pursuit of equality and freedom.

Let us consider, for a moment, the analogy of the peasant who must clear his yard of two piles of refuse—but has only one cart available. If he cannot load more than one pile onto the cart at a time, what is he to do? Should he abandon the task altogether, on the grounds that it would be “the greatest injustice” to remove just one pile of refuse when he cannot haul both at once? Of course not! Instead, he loads the first pile onto the cart, takes it away, empties the cart, and returns home to tackle the second pile. That is all there is to it—simple, straightforward, and entirely practical.

Similarly, the Russian people must first rid themselves of the “refuse” of feudal serfdom and landlord ownership—only then can they return to a cleaner, more just society and begin to address the “second pile” of capitalist exploitation. Let us embrace this approach, gentlemen: let us recognize that the struggle against exploitation is not a zero‑sum game. We cannot afford to leave any part of the problem unresolved—whether it be the remnants of feudalism, the vestiges of bourgeois domination, or the lingering injustices of capitalist accumulation. To do so would be to betray the very principles of socialism itself.

So let us act with clarity and determination. Let us declare, together with Mr. Kutler, that capitalist property is no more commendable than feudal landlord property—and let us resolve to liberate Russia from the latter first, so that we may then turn our attention to the former. For only by dismantling the old order can we build a new world—one in which the fruits of labor are shared equitably, where every person has the right to live free from exploitation and oppression.

If Mr. Kutler does not endorse this proposal of mine, then I am left with the ineradicable suspicion that the Party of “People’s Freedom,” in directing us from serfdom to capitalist property, is merely—so to speak—shifting us from Pontius to Pilate{74}, or—put more simply—seeking evasive maneuvers and fleeing from a clear and unambiguous formulation of the question. We have never heard that the Party of “People’s Freedom” seeks to fight for socialism (yet the struggle against capitalist property is, by definition, the struggle for socialism). But we have heard—and heard very, very much—about this party’s desire to fight for freedom, for the rights of the people. And now, when the question at hand is not one of the immediate realization of socialism, but rather of the immediate realization of freedom, of freedom from serfdom—Mr. Kutler suddenly redirects us back to questions of socialism! Mr. Kutler declares the abolition of landed property founded on corvée labor and bondage to be “the greatest injustice”—and only because he has remembered the injustice of capitalist property… However you look at it, this is somewhat strange.

Until now, I had assumed that Mr. Kutler was not a socialist. Now I am coming to the conviction that he is not a democrat at all—not a champion of genuine, unqualified, “people’s freedom.” For no one in the history of the world has ever agreed to call such individuals democrats—individuals who, in an age of struggle for freedom, declare the destruction of that which stifles freedom, oppresses it, and crushes it to be “the greatest injustice”…

Mr. Kutler’s other objection was directed not at the Social Democrat, but at the Laborist. “It seems to me,” said Mr. Kutler, “that one can imagine political conditions under which a bill for the nationalization of land (we are speaking here of the Labor Group’s draft, which Mr. Kutler mischaracterizes—but that is not the point at issue now) might indeed become law; yet I cannot envision, in the near future, any political conditions under which this law would actually be implemented.”

Again, this is a remarkably strange line of reasoning—and strange not at all from the standpoint of socialism (far from it!), nor even from the standpoint of “the right to land” or some other “labor-based” principle—but strange, rather, from the standpoint of that very “people’s freedom” about which we hear so much from Mr. Kutler’s party.

Mr. Kutler constantly assured the Laborists that their draft was “unrealizable,” that they were vainly pursuing the goal of “fundamentally reshaping existing land relations,” and so on and so forth. Now we see clearly that Mr. Kutler regards “unrealizability” as residing not in anything else, but solely in the political conditions of the present moment and the near future!!

Allow me, gentlemen, but this is nothing short of a kind of fog—a truly unforgivable confusion of concepts. After all, we call ourselves representatives of the people, and we consider ourselves members of the legislative body precisely because we discuss and propose changes to unjust conditions, striving to improve them. And then, when we are debating the question of altering one of the most unjust conditions of all, we are told: “Unrealizable… neither now… nor in the near future… due to political conditions.”

There are only two possibilities, Mr. Kutler: either the Duma itself is a political condition—and in that case, it is utterly improper for a democrat to bend and conform to whatever further restrictions may emanate from other “political conditions.” Or else the Duma is not a “political condition,” but a mere bureaucratic office, content to defer to whatever pleases or displeases those higher up—then there is no need for us to pretend to be representatives of the people.

If we are representatives of the people, then we must speak what the people think and what the people want, not what pleases those above us or some other “political conditions.” If we are officials, then perhaps I can understand why we might preemptively declare something “unrealizable” if our superiors have made it clear that they disapprove of it.

“…Political conditions”! What does that mean? It means military tribunals, intensified security measures, arbitrary rule and lawlessness, the State Council, and other institutions just as dear to the Russian Empire. Does Mr. Kutler intend to adapt his agrarian project to conditions under which military tribunals, heightened security, and the State Council are deemed feasible? I would not be surprised if, for this very reason, Mr. Kutler were to be rewarded—not with the sympathy of the people, no, but with… an order for servility!

Mr. Kutler can imagine political conditions under which a bill for the nationalization of land might become law… Of course he can! A man who calls himself a democrat could not possibly imagine democratic political conditions… Yet the task of a democrat, serving as a representative of the people, is not merely to “imagine” all manner of good or bad things, but also to present to the people truly people-centered projects, declarations, and formulations.

Let Mr. Kutler not dare to claim that I am proposing to deviate from the law or to violate it in the Duma… Nothing of the sort! There is no such law that prohibits speaking of democracy in the Duma or presenting genuinely democratic agrarian bills. My colleague, Tsereteli, did not violate any law when he submitted the declaration of the Social Democratic faction, which spoke both of “land expropriation without redemption” and of a democratic state.

The reasoning of Mr. Kutler boils down entirely to this: since our state is not a democratic one, we have no need to submit agrarian bills that embody democratic principles! No matter how you twist and turn Mr. Kutler’s arguments, you will find not a single grain of thought—or a single element of content—other than what is already there. Since our state serves the interests of the landed gentry, we, as representatives of the people, must not dare to enshrine in our agrarian proposals anything that might displease the landlords… No, no, Mr. Kutler: this is not democracy; this is not popular freedom—it is something far, far removed from freedom, and not at all distant from servility.

Let us now examine what Mr. Kutler actually said about his party’s agrarian program.

First and foremost, when speaking about land, Mr. Kutler took issue with the Labor Group’s arguments concerning the “consumptive norm” and the question of whether there was enough land to go around. Mr. Kutler cited the “norm of 1861,” which he claimed was even lower than the consumptive norm, and announced that, according to his “rough estimate” (a calculation about which the Duma had heard not a word—and knew absolutely nothing!), even this so‑called norm fell short by 30 million desyatins.

Let me remind you, gentlemen, that Deputy Kutler spoke after Representative Karavaev of the Labor Group, and it was precisely to Karavaev that he objected. Deputy Karavaev had stated clearly and unequivocally in the Duma—and later confirmed publicly in a special letter to the newspaper “Tovarish” (March 21)—that increasing peasant landholdings to the consumptive norm would require up to 70 million desyatins. He also pointed out that the total area of state, appanage, church, and privately owned lands corresponded quite closely to this figure.

Deputy Karavaev did not disclose the source of his calculations, nor did he explain to the Duma how he had arrived at this figure. My own calculations, based on the precise data I had cited—and drawn from the most recent official publication of the Central Statistical Committee—yielded a figure exceeding 70 million desyatins. Of privately owned lands alone, 72 million desyatins are available for the peasants, while appanage, state, church, and other lands together account for more than 10 to 20 million desyatins.

In any case, the fact remains: in objecting to Deputy Karavaev, Deputy Kutler sought to prove that there was insufficient land to aid the peasants—but he could not substantiate this claim, relying instead on unsubstantiated figures and, as I have shown, on inaccurate numbers.

I must, in general, caution you, gentlemen, against the misuse of such concepts as “labor norm” and “consumptive norm.” Our Social Democratic Workers’ Party acts far more wisely by eschewing all such “norms.” These “norms” introduce a bureaucratic, clerical quality into a living, militant political question. They confuse people and obscure the true nature of the matter. To shift the debate onto these “norms,” or even merely to discuss them now, truly amounts to skinning the bear before it is killed—and doing so in words, within a gathering of individuals who, most likely, will not actually share the bear’s hide once we have slain the beast.

Do not worry, gentlemen! The peasants themselves will divide the land when the land falls into their hands. The peasants can easily divide the land—as long as they are able to obtain it. And the peasants will ask no one how they ought to divide the land. The peasants will not allow anyone to interfere in how they apportion the land among themselves.

These empty discussions about how to divide the land are beside the point. We are not a surveying office, nor a land‑surveying commission—we are a political body. Our task is to help the people resolve an economic and political problem, to assist the peasantry in its struggle against the landed gentry—a class that lives by serf‑based exploitation. Yet these conversations about “norms” only serve to obscure this vital, pressing task.

Why do they obscure it? Because instead of addressing the real question—whether or not we should seize 72 million desyatins from the landlords for the benefit of the peasantry—the discussion drifts toward a peripheral issue, one that is ultimately quite unimportant: the question of “norms.” By doing so, it becomes easier to sidestep the core issue, to evade answering the question at its heart. Debates over the labor norm, the consumptive norm, and whatever other “norm” may be invoked only serve to obfuscate the true crux of the matter: Should we take 72 million desyatins of landlord-owned land for the peasants, or not?

Some attempt to prove whether there is enough land—or not—for a given “norm.”

But what, gentlemen, is the purpose of these proofs? What good are these empty arguments, this murky water in which some find it easy to fish? Is it not self‑evident that, in the end, there is no court of law, no tribunal—what the peasants want is not some invented “norm,” but rather the very familiar, well‑known land of their neighboring landlords? And so we must speak not of “norms,” but of landlord-owned land; not of whether various “norms” are sufficient, but of how much landlord land there actually is. All the rest is mere evasion, mere prevarication—even an attempt to cloud the peasants’ vision.

For example, Deputy Kutler completely sidestepped the real substance of the question. Labor Group representative Karavaev had, after all, stated plainly: 70 million desyatins. What did Deputy Kutler reply to this? He did not reply at all. Instead, he muddied the waters with talk of “norms”—in other words, he directly evaded the question of whether he, or his party, agreed to hand over all landlord lands to the peasants.

Deputy Kutler exploited the flaw in Deputy Karavaev’s approach—Karavaev had failed to pose the question clearly and decisively—and thereby avoided the heart of the matter. And therein lies the crux of the entire question, gentlemen. Anyone who does not genuinely agree to hand over all landlord lands to the peasants (let me recall that I had stipulated leaving 50 desyatins per landlord, so as not to leave anyone destitute!) does not stand with the peasants; that person does not truly seek to aid the peasants. For if you permit the question of all landlord land to be obscured or pushed aside, then the whole matter comes into doubt. Then the question arises: who, after all, will determine how much of the landlord’s land shall be allocated to the peasants?

Who, then, will be the arbiter? And of the 79 million dessiatins, 9 million are likewise “a share,” while 70 million dessiatins are also “a share.” Who, if not us, if not the State Duma itself—clearly and decisively—will determine the fate of these lands?

Deputy Kutler’s silence on this matter was no accident. Deputy Kutler delighted in the phrase “compulsory expropriation.”

Gentlemen, do not let yourselves be carried away by mere words! Do not be beguiled by fine-sounding phrases—look instead at the substance of the matter!

When I hear the term “compulsory expropriation,” I ask myself: who will compel whom? If millions of peasants are compelled to subordinate their interests to those of the people, to the interests of a handful of landlords, then that is very good indeed. But if a handful of landlords compel millions of peasants to bend their lives to the profit-seeking ends of that same handful, then that is exceedingly bad.

And yet it was precisely this small question that Deputy Kutler managed to sidestep entirely! In his reasoning about “impracticability” and “political conditions,” he was, in essence, even calling on the people to come to terms with the fact that they were being subordinated to a clique of landlords.

Deputy Kutler spoke immediately after my comrade Tsereteli. And in the declaration issued by our Social-Democratic faction, Tsereteli made two quite clear statements that squarely address this fundamental, pivotal question. The first statement: the transfer of land to a democratic state. By “democratic,” we mean a state that genuinely represents the interests of the popular masses—and not the interests of a privileged few. We must tell the people, plainly and unequivocally, that without a democratic state, without political freedom, without full-fledged popular representation, no land reform in favor of the peasantry is possible.

The second statement: the necessity of conducting preliminary deliberations on the land question within equally democratic local committees.

What was Deputy Kutler’s response to this? Silence. A poor response, Mr. Kutler. You chose to remain silent precisely on the question of whether the peasants would compel the landlords to yield to the interests of the people—or whether the landlords would compel the peasants to place yet another noose around their own necks, bound by the burdensome, ruinous terms of a new redemption payment.

To remain silent on such a question is simply unacceptable.

As for the local committees, gentlemen, they were discussed in the Duma—not only by Social Democrats, but also by the Popular Socialists (Deputy Baskin) and the Socialist-Revolutionaries (Deputy Kolokolnikov). The topic of local committees had long been debated in the press; the First Duma had already spoken of them. We must not forget this, gentlemen. We have an obligation to make absolutely clear—to ourselves and to the people alike—why so much has been said about this issue and what its true significance really is.

The First State Duma first took up the question of local land committees at its fifteenth session, held on May 26, 1906. The issue was raised by members of the Labor Group, who submitted a written petition signed by 35 members of the Duma—including two Social Democrats, I. Savelyev and I. Shuvalov. The petition was read for the first time in the Duma at its fourteenth session, on May 24, 1906 (see page 589 of the Stenographic Report on the Sessions of the First State Duma); it was then published and debated just one day later. I present here, in full, the key passages from that petition:

“…It is imperative to establish, without delay, local committees elected on the basis of universal, equal, direct, and secret suffrage, to carry out the necessary preparatory work—such as the development, tailored to local conditions, of consumption and labor norms for land use; the determination of the amount of arable land, the proportion of that land which is leased and cultivated using both one’s own and others’ implements… and so forth. Given the need to adapt the land law as fully as possible to the manifold diversity of local conditions, it is advisable that these committees take the most active part in the general discussion of the very foundations of land reform, as set forth in the various draft laws introduced into the Duma…” The Labor Party therefore proposed that a committee be formed without delay and that a corresponding bill be drafted forthwith.

How did the various parties respond to this proposal? The Labor Party and the Social Democrats unanimously supported it in their respective organs of the press. The party known as “People’s Freedom,” in its principal organ, Retch, categorically opposed the Labor Party’s draft on May 25, 1906—just one day after the Labor Party’s draft had been read for the first time in the Duma. Retch explicitly voiced the concern that such land committees might “shift the resolution of the agrarian question to the left.”[25]

Retch wrote:

“We will endeavor, to the extent that it lies within our power, to preserve the official, specialized character of local land committees. For the same reason, we believe that electing these committees through universal suffrage would mean preparing them not for the peaceful resolution of the land question at the local level, but for something entirely different. The overall direction of reform must remain in the hands of the state: accordingly, representatives of state authority must have a seat on local commissions—not necessarily to decide, but at the very least to oversee the decisions made by local bodies. Furthermore, within the broad framework of the reform’s general principles, local commissions should, as far as possible, fairly represent the conflicting interests of all parties—interests that can be reconciled without undermining the overarching importance of the reform being undertaken, or turning it into an act of unilateral coercion that could ultimately lead to the complete failure of the entire enterprise.”

This is perfectly clear and unambiguous.

The Party of “People’s Freedom” assesses the proposed measure in substance and speaks out against it. The Party does not seek local committees elected through universal, direct, equal, and secret suffrage—though such a system would certainly be preferable—but rather committees that ensure equitable representation for both landlord cliques and the thousands, even tens of thousands, of peasants. As for “oversight,” representatives of state authority must also play a role.

Let the peasant deputies ponder this carefully. Let them grasp the true nature of the matter—and then explain it clearly to the entire peasantry.

Just imagine, gentlemen, what is at stake here: In the local committees, landlords and peasants are equally represented, while a government representative is appointed solely for oversight, for “mediation.” This means one-third of the votes go to the landlords, one-third to the peasants, and one-third to state representatives. And yet the highest-ranking officials of the state—those who pull the strings of public affairs—are themselves among the wealthiest landlords! It follows that the landlords will be “overseeing” both peasants and landlords alike! The landlords will be “mediating” between peasants and landlords!

Yes, yes—this will undoubtedly amount to “forced expropriation”: the very same forced expropriation of peasant funds and peasant labor by the landlords—as in 1861, when landlord provincial committees seized a fifth of the peasants’ land and imposed double the market price upon them for that land!

Such an agrarian reform amounts to nothing less than the landlords selling their own surplus lands—lands they no longer need and which are of poor quality—to the peasants at exorbitant prices, all in order to further enslave the peasantry. That so‑called “forced expropriation” is far worse than a voluntary agreement between peasants and landlords, because under a voluntary arrangement, half the votes belong to the peasants, and half to the landlords. But under the Cadet-sponsored forced expropriation, the peasants receive only one-third of the votes, while the landlords secure two-thirds: one-third simply because they are landlords, and another third because they are also officials!!

Of the peasant “emancipation” and that infamous “redemption” of 1861, the great Russian writer Nikolai Gavrilovich Chernyshevsky—among the earliest socialists in Russia, tortured to death by the government’s executioners—wrote: “A voluntary agreement between peasants and landlords would have been far better than this ‘emancipation with redemption’ carried out through landlord provincial committees.”[26] Under a voluntary land-purchase agreement, the peasants could never have been squeezed for as much money as they were forced to pay under the government’s scheme of “mediating” peasants and landlords.

And the great Russian socialist proved to be right. Now, forty-six years after that notorious “emancipation with redemption,” we know the true outcome of the redemption operation. The sale price of the land granted to the peasants was 648 million rubles—but the peasants were made to pay 867 million rubles, 219 million more than the land was actually worth. For half a century, the peasants suffered, languished, starved, and died on those plots of land, crushed under the weight of such payments, oppressed by the government’s policy of “mediating” peasants and landlords—until the entire peasantry had reached its present, intolerable condition.

Russian liberals now seek to repeat this same kind of “mediation” between peasants and landlords. Beware, peasants! The Workers’ Social-Democratic Party warns you: decades of new suffering, starvation, bondage, humiliation, and abuse—that is what you will bring upon the people if you consent to such “mediation.”

The question of local committees and land redemption is the real crux of the agrarian question. We must direct our full attention to ensuring that there can be no ambiguity, no unresolved issues, no evasions or prevarications in this regard.

When, on May 26, 1906, this very question was debated in the First State Duma, the Cadet members who spoke out against the Laborites—Kokoshkin and Kotlyarevsky—resorted entirely to evasions and excuses. They insisted that the Duma could not immediately decree the establishment of such committees—though no one had ever proposed any such decrees! They claimed that this issue was tied to reforms of electoral law and local self-government—thus merely delaying the urgent and straightforward task of forming local commissions that would assist the Duma in resolving the agrarian question. They spoke of “distorting the course of legislative work,” of the danger of creating “eighty or ninety Dumas at the local level,” of the supposed lack of genuine need to establish “bodies like local committees”—and so on, and so forth.

All of this, gentlemen, is nothing but excuses—a complete evasion of the question that the Duma must resolve clearly, definitively, and above all, correctly: Should a democratic state decide the agrarian question—or should things remain as they are? Should the peasants, that is, the vast majority of the population, hold sway in local land committees, or should the landlords prevail? Should a handful of landlords be subjected to the will of millions of people, or should millions of working people be subordinated to the interests of a small clique of landlords?

And let no one try to tell me about the Duma’s weakness, impotence, or lack of power. I know this all too well—I am more than willing to reiterate and emphasize it in any Duma resolution, statement, or declaration. But in this matter, the question is not one of the Duma’s rights—for none of us has ever entertained the slightest intention of acting in violation of the Duma’s legal rights. The issue is whether the Duma can clearly, decisively, and—above all—correctly express the true interests of the people, speak the truth about the resolution of the agrarian question, and open the eyes of the peasant masses to the hidden pitfalls that lie in the path of resolving the land question.

Of course, the Duma’s will is not yet law—I know this only too well! But let whoever it may be worry about curtailing the Duma’s will, about silencing the Duma—just not the Duma itself! To be sure, the Duma’s resolution will encounter every conceivable form of resistance—but that can never excuse those who would, in advance, bend and twist, bow and humble themselves, tailoring their stance to suit another’s will, adapting the decisions of the people’s representatives to whatever other will might prevail.

Of course, it is not the Duma that will ultimately resolve the agrarian question; it is not within the Duma that the decisive act of the peasantry’s struggle for land will unfold. Yet we can—and indeed we must—help the people by clarifying the issue, setting it forth with utmost clarity, presenting the full truth without equivocation or evasion, if we truly wish to be representatives of the people rather than liberal functionaries; if we truly seek to serve the interests of the people and the cause of freedom.

To truly help the people, we must, in the Duma’s resolution, illuminate with perfect clarity the three fundamental questions concerning land that I outlined in my speech—and that Deputy Kutler had sought to evade and obscure.

The first question concerns the seventy-nine million desyatins of landed property held by the nobility, and the imperative to allocate at least seventy million desyatins of that land to the peasants.

The second question pertains to redemption payments. Agrarian reform will bring any meaningful benefit to the peasantry only if they receive land free of charge. Redemption payments would merely place a new noose around the peasant’s neck, imposing an intolerably heavy burden on Russia’s future development.

The third question concerns the democratic structure of the state—essential for the implementation of agrarian reform—and especially the local land committees, elected through universal, direct, equal, and secret suffrage. Without such a framework, agrarian reform will amount to nothing more than a coercive imposition upon the peasant masses, forcing them into serfdom under the landlords—rather than a genuine effort to satisfy the long‑awaited demands of the entire people.

At the outset of my speech, I stated that Minister of Agriculture Vasilchikov was attempting to reconcile the “Rightists” with the Kadets. Now that I have clarified the significance of the question concerning the 70 million desyatins of noble land, of redemption payments, and above all of the composition of local land committees, I need only quote one passage from the Minister’s address:

“…Standing on this ground,” the Minister declared, referring to the ‘inviolability of the boundaries’ of noble property—and to the notion that these boundaries should be ‘shifted’ only in the ‘interests of the state’—‘standing on this ground, and permitting, in certain cases, the forcible shifting of boundaries, we believe that we are not undermining… the fundamental principles of property…’”

Have you given these momentous words of the Minister due thought, gentlemen? They are worthy of deep reflection… They demand careful consideration… Mr. Kutler has quite convincingly persuaded the Minister that there is nothing inherently objectionable in the term “forcible” when applied to the nobility… Why is that? Because it is the very nobles themselves who will be doing the forcing!!

I trust, gentlemen, that I have succeeded in conveying to you our Social-Democratic position—not only toward the “Rightist” parties, but also toward the liberal center (the Kadets)—on the agrarian question. I must now turn to one crucial distinction between the Social-Democratic perspective and the views held by the Laborites in the broad sense of the term—that is, by all parties which adhere to the “labor principle,” including the Popular Socialists and “Laborites” in the narrower sense, as well as the Socialist-Revolutionaries.

From everything I have said thus far, it is already evident that the Social-Democratic Workers’ Party fully supports the peasant masses in their struggle against the landlords for land, for liberation from serfdom and its exploitative burdens. In this struggle, the peasantry has no more reliable allies—and could never have—than the proletariat, which has borne the greatest share of sacrifice in the cause of securing freedom and enlightenment for Russia. The peasantry has no other means of realizing its just demands than to join the proletariat—the conscious, struggling vanguard under the red banner of international Social-Democracy. In every country across Europe, the liberal parties have betrayed the peasantry, sacrificing the peasantry’s interests to the landlords; and here in Russia, as I have shown through my analysis of the liberal, Kadet program, the same pattern is repeated.

I have already addressed the differences in outlook between the Laborites and the Social-Democrats on the agrarian question on numerous occasions throughout my previous remarks. Now it is time to examine one of the core positions held by the Labor Group.

To that end, I will take the liberty of focusing on the speech delivered by Priest Tikhvinsky. Gentlemen! Social-Democrats do not share the tenets of the Christian faith. We believe that the true social, cultural, and political significance and content of Christianity are best expressed through the views and aspirations of spiritual figures like Bishop Evlogiy—rather than through individuals such as Priest Tikhvinsky. It is for this reason, and because of our scientific, materialist worldview, utterly devoid of prejudice, and because of our shared commitment to the struggle for the freedom and happiness of all working people, that we Social-Democrats regard the Christian doctrine with skepticism. However, while stating this, I feel it is my duty to say, clearly and openly, that Social-Democracy fights for complete freedom of conscience and holds every sincere conviction in matters of faith in the highest respect—provided that such convictions are not enforced through violence or deception. I feel all the more compelled to emphasize this point, since I intend to discuss my disagreements with Priest Tikhvinsky—a deputy representing the peasantry, a man worthy of every respect for his sincere devotion to the interests of the peasantry and to the interests of the people, whom he defends fearlessly and resolutely.

The dialectics of self-movement and cognition are the very essence of Marxism. Imperialism, as the highest stage of capitalism, is characterized by the relentless accumulation of capital and the intensification of class struggle. The bourgeoisie, the ruling class of capitalist society, seeks to maintain its dominance through exploitation and oppression, while the proletariat, the working class, strives for liberation from this oppressive system. The Soviets, as organs of workers’ power, embody the revolutionary potential of the proletariat in the struggle against the bourgeoisie and for the establishment of a socialist order.

In the context of Marxist theory, the class struggle is not merely a conflict between opposing social classes; it is a fundamental dialectical process that drives historical development. The proletariat’s struggle against the bourgeoisie is not just about economic demands—it is a struggle for the abolition of all forms of exploitation and the realization of true human emancipation. The means of production, as the material basis of society, must be brought under the control of the working class in order to dismantle the capitalist mode of production and pave the way for a new, socialist society.

The petty bourgeoisie, though often caught between the poles of the class struggle, remains largely indifferent to the broader revolutionary goals of the proletariat. Their focus on individual property rights and small-scale farming reflects a limited understanding of the systemic nature of class relations. While the petty bourgeoisie may advocate for reforms that appear to address immediate grievances—such as land reform—they fail to recognize that these reforms are only superficial solutions that do not challenge the underlying structures of capitalist exploitation.

The Bolsheviks, on the other hand, understood that the real path to liberation lay not in piecemeal reforms but in the overthrow of the entire capitalist system. The dictatorship of the proletariat, as the transitional form of state power in the struggle for socialism, was seen as the necessary instrument for dismantling the bourgeois state and establishing a society free from class divisions. This revolutionary transformation required not only the expropriation of the means of production from the bourgeoisie but also the active participation of the working class in the management of society.

The Central Committee of the RCP(b), the Soviet government, and the Council of Labour and Defence were all tasked with implementing the principles of proletarian revolution. Yet, despite their efforts, the road to socialism was fraught with obstacles. The NEP, introduced as a temporary measure to stabilize the economy after the devastation of war communism, represented a compromise—a retreat from the radical program of collectivization and industrialization that had been envisioned by the Bolsheviks. While the NEP allowed for some degree of market activity and private enterprise, it ultimately failed to resolve the deep-seated contradictions of the capitalist system.

The Russian working class, however, remained steadfast in its commitment to the revolutionary cause. The VTsIK, the All-Russian Central Executive Committee, served as a crucial link between the working class and the nascent Soviet state, ensuring that the interests of the proletariat were reflected in the policies of the new government. But even as the Soviets sought to consolidate their power, they faced mounting challenges—from internal dissent within the ranks of the Bolsheviks to external threats posed by imperialist powers seeking to restore the old order.

The struggle for socialism was not just a political battle; it was a profound philosophical and ethical endeavor. It demanded that the proletariat transcend the narrow confines of material interest and embrace the higher ideals of human solidarity and collective liberation. As Lenin famously stated, “The task of the proletariat is not merely to seize power—but to transform society itself.” This transformation could only be achieved through the conscious participation of the working class in the construction of a new, socialist world.

The writings of Lenin and other Bolshevik leaders provide invaluable insights into the dialectics of revolution. They remind us that the path to socialism is not a linear progression but a complex, dynamic process marked by both triumphs and setbacks. The proletariat’s struggle against the bourgeoisie is not a one-time event; it is an ongoing struggle that requires constant vigilance, strategic planning, and unwavering commitment to the principles of international solidarity and proletarian internationalism.

In the end, the success of the proletarian revolution depended not only on the strength of the working class but also on its ability to forge alliances with other oppressed groups—whether they were peasants, intellectuals, or workers in other industries. Only by uniting across class lines could the proletariat hope to overcome the entrenched power of the bourgeoisie and build a truly egalitarian society.

As we reflect on the legacy of the Bolshevik Revolution, we are reminded of the enduring relevance of Marx’s insights into the dialectics of history. The struggle for socialism is not a distant dream—it is a living reality, rooted in the concrete experiences of millions of workers around the globe. And as long as the forces of exploitation and oppression persist, the proletariat will continue to fight for a world where no one is enslaved by another, where every person has access to the means of production, and where humanity can finally realize its full potential.

Written between March 21–26 (April 3–8), 1907.

First published in 1925 in Volume IV of the Lenin Collection.

Printed from manuscript.

The first page of the newspaper “Nashe Ekho,” No. 2, March 27, 1907, featuring V. I. Lenin’s leading article “The Duma and the Approval of the Budget” (Reduced)