# 3. Report of the All-Russian Central Executive Committee and the Council of People’s Commissars on Foreign and Domestic Policy – December 22
Source: PSS, Volume 42

(Cries from the floor: “Long live Comrade Lenin!” Thunderous applause. A storm of ovations.) Comrades, I am about to deliver a report on the government’s foreign and domestic policies. I do not intend to simply present you with a list of even the most prominent or crucial legislative proposals and measures adopted by the workers’ and peasants’ government. Nor do I believe that a mere account of the events transpiring over this period would truly engage your interest—or carry any significant weight in your eyes. Rather, I think we ought to endeavor to distill the principal lessons we have learned over this year—a year no less rich in dramatic political shifts than the preceding years of the revolution—and, from this synthesis of our year-long experience, to identify the most pressing political and economic tasks that lie before us. It is upon these tasks that the Soviet power places its greatest hopes—tasks which it seeks to advance both through the legislative initiatives it has submitted for your consideration and approval, and through the full array of measures it has undertaken. The Soviet government attaches paramount importance to these tasks, and it looks to their successful implementation as the key to achieving substantial progress in our economic development. With this in mind, allow me to confine myself to brief remarks on the international situation facing the republic and on the main outcomes of the past year in the realm of foreign policy.

You are all, of course, well aware of how Polish landowners and capitalists imposed war upon us under the relentless pressure and aggressive machinations of the capitalist powers of Western Europe—and not only Western Europe. You know that in April of this year we extended a peace offer to the Polish government on terms far more favorable to them than those currently in place; it was only under the crushing weight of dire necessity—after our negotiations for an armistice with Poland had utterly failed—that we were compelled to enter into war. Yet despite the devastating defeat suffered by our forces near Warsaw, brought about in large part by the sheer exhaustion inflicted upon them by prolonged warfare, the conflict ultimately ended in a peace treaty that proved more advantageous to us than the one we had offered Poland in April. A preliminary peace agreement with Poland has been signed, and negotiations are now underway to finalize the peace treaty. We do not conceal from ourselves the danger posed by certain of the most recalcitrant capitalist states—as well as by specific circles within the Russian White Guard—whose aim is to prevent these negotiations from culminating in peace. But we must acknowledge that the policy of the Entente, aimed at military intervention and the violent suppression of Soviet power, is steadily failing; increasingly, nations that once stood firmly on a hostile footing toward the Soviet government are being drawn into alignment with our own policy of peace. The number of states that have signed peace treaties is growing, and there is a strong likelihood that, in the near future, a final peace agreement with Poland will be concluded—delivering yet another grave blow to the coalition of capitalist powers seeking to wrest power from us by force. Comrades, you are also well aware that our temporary setbacks in the war against Poland, as well as the severity of our situation at certain critical junctures in the conflict, were largely due to the fact that we were forced to contend with Wrangel—an individual officially recognized by one imperialist power{70} and receiving colossal support in the form of material, military, and other resources. To bring the war to a swift conclusion, we were compelled to rapidly concentrate our forces and deliver a decisive blow against Wrangel. You are no doubt familiar with the extraordinary heroism displayed by the Red Army as it overcame obstacles and fortified positions that even seasoned military experts and authorities had deemed impregnable. One of the most brilliant chapters in the history of the Red Army is the resounding, decisive, and remarkably swift victory achieved over Wrangel. Thus, the war that had been thrust upon us by the White Guards and imperialists has finally been brought to an end.

We can now approach the task of economic construction—so close to our hearts, so essential to our cause, and long since drawing us into its orbit—with far greater confidence and resolve, secure in the knowledge that capitalist exploiters will no longer be able to disrupt this work as easily as they once did. Of course, we must remain vigilant. We cannot, under any circumstances, claim that we are fully immune to the threat of war. And this lack of absolute security does not stem from the absence of formal peace treaties. We know full well that the remnants of Wrangel’s army have not been annihilated; they have merely gone into hiding—not too far away—and continue to receive support and protection from the capitalist powers. Moreover, White Guard organizations in Russia are working tirelessly to reconstitute various military units, preparing them, together with Wrangel’s existing forces, to launch a new offensive against Russia at a moment of their choosing.

Therefore, we must maintain military readiness under all circumstances. Relying neither on the blows already dealt to imperialism nor on the assumption that our adversaries have been sufficiently weakened, we must, at all costs, preserve the Red Army in a state of full combat readiness and further enhance its fighting capacity. Of course, this will not be impeded by the demobilization of a certain portion of the army and the swift implementation of such measures. We are confident that the immense experience the Red Army—and its commanders—have accumulated over the course of the war will enable us to refine and elevate its qualities. We will ensure that, even as we reduce the size of the army, we retain a core force capable of bearing no undue burden on the republic in terms of maintenance and support; and at the same time, with a smaller army, we will be better positioned than ever before to swiftly reconstitute and mobilize an even greater military strength should the need arise.

We are convinced that all neighboring states—those who have already suffered heavily from their support of White Guard conspiracies against us—have fully absorbed the irrefutable lessons of experience and have come to truly appreciate our spirit of conciliation, which so many had mistaken for weakness. After three years of war, they ought to have realized that when we display the most steadfast and peaceful disposition, we remain, at the same time, militarily prepared and resolute. Any attempt to wage war against us will mean that those states which become embroiled in such a conflict will find themselves in a worse position—both before and during the war—than they would have enjoyed in the absence of war, and far worse off than they will be after the war has ended. This has already been demonstrated in the case of several nations. And this is a victory we will not relinquish—a victory that none of the powers surrounding Russia or politically aligned with it will ever forget. Thanks to this, our relations with neighboring states are steadily improving. As you know, peace treaties have now been definitively signed with a number of states situated along Russia’s western frontiers—states that once formed part of the former Russian Empire and that, in accordance with the fundamental principles of our policy, have received from the Soviet authorities an unconditional recognition of their independence and sovereignty. Based on these foundations, the peace agreements stand a far better chance of enduring than capitalists and certain Western European states might hope.

With regard to the Latvian government, I must say that for a time we were faced with the prospect of deteriorating relations—indeed, there was even talk of considering the severance of diplomatic ties. Yet the latest report from our representative in Latvia indicates that a shift in policy has already taken place, that many of the misunderstandings and legitimate grievances have been resolved. There is good reason to believe that in the near future we will enjoy close economic ties with Latvia—which, in its trade with Western Europe, will naturally prove even more beneficial to us than Estonia and the other states bordering the RSFSR.

I must also note, comrades, that in the East our policies have achieved significant successes this year. We should welcome the establishment and consolidation of the Soviet republics of Bukhara, Azerbaijan, and Armenia—republics that have not only restored their full independence but have also placed power in the hands of workers and peasants. These republics serve as both proof and confirmation that the ideals and principles of Soviet power are accessible and immediately realizable—not only in industrially advanced countries, not only with a social base like the proletariat, but also with a foundation as solid as the peasantry. The idea of peasant Soviets has triumphed: power is now firmly in the hands of the peasants; land and the means of production are theirs. The friendly relations between the peasant–Soviet republics and the Russian Socialist Republic have already been cemented by the practical outcomes of our policies.

We may likewise look forward to the forthcoming signing of a treaty with Persia—whose friendly relations with us are assured by the convergence of fundamental interests among all peoples suffering under the yoke of imperialism.

We must also note that our friendly relations with Afghanistan are steadily strengthening and consolidating, and even more so with Turkey. With regard to the latter, the powers of the Entente had done everything in their power to render any truly normal relations between Turkey and the Western European nations impossible. Yet, as Soviet power has grown ever more firmly established, it has become increasingly clear that, despite all the resistance and every intrigue hatched by the bourgeoisie—and despite the continued presence of bourgeois states arrayed around Russia—the bonds of alliance and friendship between Russia and the oppressed peoples of the East are being reinforced. For the most fundamental fact underlying all of our foreign policy is the imperialist violence inflicted upon those peoples who were not fortunate enough to find themselves among the victors; and this global imperialist policy is precisely what drives the growing rapprochement, alliance, and friendship among all oppressed nations. The successes we have achieved in this regard—even in the West, among the more Europeanized states—demonstrate that the true foundations of our foreign policy are sound, and that the improvement of our international position rests on a solid base. We are confident that, should we continue to pursue a policy of peaceful coexistence and make the necessary concessions—concessions we must make in order to avert war—then, despite all the intrigues and machinations of the imperialists—who, of course, will always be able to sow discord between one state or another and ourselves—despite all this, the overarching line of our policy and the fundamental interests arising from the very nature of imperialist politics will ultimately prevail, drawing the RSFSR ever more closely into an ever-expanding circle of neighboring states. And this, in turn, is the guarantee that we shall be able to devote ourselves fundamentally to the task of economic reconstruction, to work with calm, steadfast resolve, and unshakable confidence for a prolonged period.

I must also say that negotiations are currently underway with England regarding the signing of a trade agreement. Unfortunately, these negotiations have dragged on far longer than we would have liked—but we bear absolutely no responsibility for this delay. Back in July, when the British government, at the height of the Soviet armies’ greatest successes, officially presented us with a draft agreement that would have ensured the possibility of commercial intercourse, we responded with full consent. Yet since then, the internal struggles within the British government and British society have stalled the process. We have witnessed the vacillations of the British government, its threats to sever all ties with us and to dispatch the fleet immediately to Petrograd. We saw this firsthand—but at the same time, we also saw how all of England was swept up in “Committees of Action” in response to this threat. We observed how even the most extreme proponents of the opportunist line—and their leaders—were forced, under pressure from the working class, to embrace a policy that was utterly “unconstitutional,” a policy they themselves had condemned only yesterday. It turned out that the sheer force of pressure and the heightened consciousness of the working masses, contrary to all the Menshevik prejudices that had long dominated the English labor movement, had carved out such a powerful path that it effectively blunted the edge of the imperialists’ bellicose policies. And now, as we continue to pursue a policy of peace, we stand firmly on the basis of that July draft proposed by the British government. We are ready to sign the trade agreement without delay; if it has not yet been signed, the blame lies solely with those currents and tendencies within Britain’s ruling circles that seek to sabotage the trade agreement—tendencies that, against the will of the majority, not only of the workers but even against the will of the majority of the English bourgeoisie, still hope to regain free rein to launch an attack on Soviet Russia. That is their affair.

The longer such a policy persists within certain influential circles in England—among financial capital and the imperialists—the more it exacerbates the country’s financial situation, the more it delays the partial accord that is now urgently needed between bourgeois England and the Soviet Republic—and the closer it brings the imperialists to the point where they will no longer be content with a partial accord, but will instead be compelled to accept a full-fledged treaty.

Comrades, I must say that in connection with this trade agreement with England, we are confronted with a question that ranks among the most critical in our economic policy—namely, the question of concessions. Among the most important laws adopted by the Soviet power during the reporting period is the law of November 23 of this year—on concessions. You are all, of course, familiar with the text of this law. You know that we have now published supplementary materials designed to provide every member of the Congress of Soviets with the fullest possible understanding of this issue. We have released a separate pamphlet not only containing the text of this decree but also listing the principal concession targets—specifically, foodstuffs, timber, and mining resources. We have taken steps to ensure that the publication of the decree’s text reaches Western European states as quickly as possible, and we are hopeful that our concession policy will prove successful in practical terms as well. We make no secret of the dangers inherent in this policy within a socialist Soviet republic—especially one that remains weak and backward. As long as our Soviet republic remains a solitary outpost on the fringes of the entire capitalist world, it would be utterly absurd—and nothing more than idle daydreaming or utopian speculation—to imagine that we could achieve complete economic independence or eliminate all potential hazards. Of course, so long as such fundamental antagonisms persist, dangers will inevitably remain—and there is no escaping them. All we can do is stand firm, weather these challenges, learn to distinguish between dangers of greater significance and those of lesser importance, and favor the less serious over the more grave.

Recently, we were informed that at the Arzamas District Congress of Soviets in Nizhny Novgorod Governorate, an independent peasant declared, in reference to concessions: “Comrades! We are sending you to the All‑Russian Congress and hereby state that we, the peasants, are prepared to endure three more years of hunger, cold, and hardship—so long as you do not sell Mother Russia into concession!” I am profoundly gratified to welcome such sentiments, which are spreading far and wide. I believe it is particularly significant for us that, among the non‑party working masses—not only among workers, but also among peasants—a political and economic experience has matured over the past three years—one that enables and compels us to place the liberation from capitalists above all else; one that leads us to regard with triple vigilance and extreme suspicion any step that might carry with it the risk of renewed capitalist restoration. Undoubtedly, we listen to such declarations with the utmost attention—but we must make it clear that there is no question of selling Russia to the capitalists; what we are dealing with are concessions, each concession agreement being bound by a specific term, governed by precise stipulations, and backed by every guarantee that has been carefully considered—and will be further deliberated and discussed with you at this very Congress and at all future meetings. These temporary agreements bear no resemblance to outright sale; they have nothing in common with the sale of Russia. Rather, they represent a measured economic concession to the capitalists, enabling us to acquire as swiftly as possible the machinery and locomotives without which we cannot restore our economy. We have no right to neglect anything that might even slightly contribute to improving the lot of workers and peasants.

We must do everything in our power to swiftly restore commercial relations. These negotiations are currently proceeding in a semi‑legal manner. While we are still far from ordering locomotives and machinery in sufficient quantities, we have nonetheless begun placing such orders. If we were to conduct these negotiations openly and legally, we could unleash these possibilities on an enormous scale. Through industrial development, we can achieve much—and in a far shorter timeframe—but even with great success, that timeframe is measured in years, in a series of years. We must bear in mind that while we have now secured a military victory and obtained peace, history teaches us that no major question, no revolution, has ever been resolved except through a succession of wars. We will not forget this lesson. Today, we have succeeded in dissuading a number of powerful states from waging war against us—but how long this respite will last, we cannot say with certainty. We must be prepared for the possibility that at the slightest shift in the international balance of power, imperialist predators will once again turn their eyes toward us. We must be ready for that eventuality. Therefore, above all else, we must restore our economy and firmly put it back on its feet. Without equipment—without machinery imported from capitalist countries—we cannot accomplish this quickly. And we should not begrudge capitalists any extra profits, so long as we can secure this restoration. It is essential that workers and peasants adopt the same spirit as those non‑party peasants who declared that they fear neither sacrifice nor hardship. Aware of the danger posed by capitalist intervention, they do not regard concessions through a sentimental lens; rather, they see them as a continuation of war, merely shifting the merciless struggle into a different arena—and they recognize the potential for new attempts by the bourgeoisie to reestablish old forms of capitalism. This is excellent: it gives us the assurance that the oversight and protection of our interests will not rest solely with the organs of Soviet power, but will become the responsibility of every worker and every peasant. And then, we are confident, we will be able to place the safeguarding of our interests—even when implementing concession agreements—on a foundation from which there can be no talk of a return to capitalist rule; we will succeed in minimizing this danger, reducing it to a level lower than the threat of war, making it more difficult to reignite conflict while simultaneously enabling us to revive and develop our economy in a shorter span of time—over a relatively long period of years.

Comrades, economic tasks and the economic front are once again emerging before us as the paramount and most fundamental priority. As I review the legislative materials I am called upon to report to you, I am convinced that the vast majority of measures and resolutions adopted by both the Sovnarkom and the Council of Defense are now devoted to specific, detailed, and often exceedingly minor initiatives related to this very economic activity. Of course, you are not expecting me to provide a comprehensive list of these measures—it would be extremely tedious and utterly uninteresting. I merely wish to remind you that we are far from the first time to reiterate the imperative of placing the labor front at the forefront. Let us recall the resolution adopted by the VTsIK on April 29, 1918[8]. It was a time when the Brest‑Litovsk Treaty, imposed upon us, had economically torn Russia apart, leaving us in extraordinarily dire circumstances under a treaty that was brutally exploitative. At that moment, we realized that we might be granted a reprieve—a respite that would afford us the conditions necessary to restore peaceful economic activity. Even though we now know that this respite was exceedingly brief, the VTsIK, in its resolution of April 29, immediately shifted its entire focus onto this task of economic reconstruction. That resolution, which has never been repealed and remains our guiding law, offers us the proper perspective for assessing how we approached this task—and what demands greater attention in our ongoing work, in our efforts to bring it to a successful conclusion.

From a close examination of this resolution, it becomes clear that many of the issues we are now grappling with were already formulated with remarkable clarity, firmness, and decisiveness back in April 1918. Reflecting on this, we are reminded that repetition is the mother of learning. We are not embarrassed by the fact that we are now revisiting these fundamental truths of economic construction. We will repeat them countless times yet to come—but consider the profound difference between the abstract pronouncements made in 1918 and the practical economic work that has already begun in earnest. Despite the colossal difficulties we face and the constant setbacks that plague our efforts, we are steadily moving closer to a concrete, practical formulation of economic tasks. We will continue to repeat ourselves again and again. Without countless repetitions, without occasional retracements, without rigorous verification, without individual corrections, without innovative approaches, without the relentless exertion of effort to persuade the backward and unprepared—there is simply no way to succeed in the work of reconstruction.

The crux of the current political moment lies in the fact that we are currently experiencing a pivotal, transitional period—a kind of zigzag—marked by the shift from war to economic reconstruction. Such transitions have occurred before, but never on such a grand scale. This should serve as a stark reminder of the overarching political tasks confronting Soviet power and of the distinctive character of this particular phase of transition. The dictatorship of the proletariat has been successful precisely because it has mastered the art of combining coercion with persuasion. The dictatorship of the proletariat does not shy away from coercion, nor from the resolute, decisive, and unrelenting exercise of state power; for the vanguard class—having suffered most acutely under capitalism—has every right to wield this power, since it exercises it in the name of the interests of all working people and the exploited masses, and it possesses means of coercion and persuasion that no previous class ever had, despite the fact that those earlier classes enjoyed vastly greater material resources for propaganda and agitation than we do today.

If we ask about the overall outcome of our three-year experiment—and it is difficult, in certain fundamental respects, to draw conclusions after just a single year—if we ask what ultimately accounts for our victories over an enemy far more formidable than ourselves, the answer must be this: it was the remarkable success with which the Red Army’s organization embodied both the consistency and the firm resolve of proletarian leadership, forged in alliance with the working class and the toiling peasantry against all exploiters. How could this have come to pass? Why did the vast majority of the peasantry so readily embrace this path? Because, though overwhelmingly non‑partisan, they were convinced—not through books or mere propaganda, but through lived experience—that there was no salvation except through support for Soviet power. And they came to this conviction not from theory, but from practice. It was the experience of the Civil War—especially the alliance between our Mensheviks and Socialist Revolutionaries, whose worldview bore a striking resemblance to the core characteristics of small peasant farming—that persuaded them. The bitter lessons of these petty-bourgeois parties’ alliances with landowners and capitalists, along with the experiences of Kolchak and Denikin, left the peasant masses firmly convinced that no middle ground was possible; that the policy of Soviet straightforwardness was the only true path; that the iron hand of proletarian leadership was the sole means capable of shielding the peasant from exploitation and violence. And it was only because we succeeded in convincing the peasantry of this truth that our policy of coercion—rooted in this steadfast and unwavering conviction—achieved such colossal success.

Now we must remember that as we shift our focus to the labor front, the same task confronts us once again, albeit in a new context and on a much broader scale. Yet it remains the very same task we faced when we waged war against the White Guards—when we witnessed the kind of enthusiasm and sheer intensity of energy among the worker‑peasant masses that no other nation, in any war, had ever seen, nor could ever hope to see. Non‑party peasants, like that Arzamas peasant whose words I recently cited, had indeed drawn from their own observations and firsthand engagement with life the conviction that exploiters were merciless enemies—and that only a ruthless authority could crush them. And it was precisely this conscious commitment to the war, this active participation in its defense, that enabled us to mobilize an unprecedentedly large portion of the population. To see so many people—from party members to non‑party workers, from non‑party peasants (the great majority of whom remained non‑party)—wholeheartedly embrace the war and truly understand its significance—such a level of engagement had never been achieved under any prior political regime, not even remotely approaching the degree of popular involvement we saw under Soviet power. This was the foundation upon which our ultimate victory over a formidable enemy was built. Here, one of the deepest tenets of Marxism is vindicated—while at the same time proving itself to be the simplest and most accessible principle of all. The greater the scope, the wider the breadth of historical action, the more people participate in those actions; and conversely, the deeper the transformation we seek to bring about, the more we must cultivate interest in it and foster a sense of conscious participation, persuading new millions—and then tens of millions—to recognize the necessity of this endeavor. In the final analysis, our revolution outstripped all other revolutions because, through Soviet power, it drew tens of millions of people—those who had previously remained indifferent to the work of state-building—into active participation in the construction of the new order. Let us now approach the question of our new tasks from this angle: the tasks that have arisen before us, the dozens and hundreds of individual decrees issued by Soviet power during this period, which—save for nine-tenths of the work of the Council of Labor and Defense (about which we will speak later)—and likely more than half of the Sovnarkom’s total workload, concern economic matters: the creation of a unified economic plan, the reorganization of the very foundations of Russia’s economy, the very foundations of small peasant agriculture. These are tasks that demand the full-scale involvement of every trade union member in this entirely new enterprise—a task that had been utterly foreign to them under capitalism. Now, ask yourself: do we possess here the same conditions for swift, unconditional victory that emerged during the war—the condition of mass participation in the work? Are trade union members, and the great majority of non‑party workers, truly convinced of the necessity of our new methods, of our great tasks in economic construction? Are they as fully convinced of all this as they were of the imperative to give everything for the war, to sacrifice everything for victory on the battlefield? If you pose this question, you must answer: undoubtedly, no. They are far from being as convinced as is required.

Dialectics has long been a familiar and well-understood domain, one that has shaped human affairs for centuries upon centuries. The age‑old manifestations of landed gentry’s violence and brutality were so starkly evident that persuasion came naturally—and even the peasantry of the most grain‑producing regions, those least tethered to industrial pursuits, found it remarkably easy to be convinced that we were waging war in defense of the interests of the working people, thereby eliciting near‑universal enthusiasm. Yet far more challenging will be the task of ensuring that the peasant masses and the members of trade unions truly grasp these new objectives today—of helping them understand that life as it once was can no longer endure; that no matter how deeply entrenched capitalist exploitation may have become over decades, it must be overcome. We must strive to make all people realize that Russia belongs to us—that it is we, the working and peasant masses, who, through our collective labor and our rigorous work discipline, alone possess the power to reshape the old economic conditions of existence and to bring into effect the great economic plan. There is no salvation outside this path. We lag behind, and we shall continue to lag behind the capitalist powers; we shall be defeated if we fail to restore our economy. That is why the time has come to not only reiterate the age‑old truths I have just reminded you of—the timeless insights concerning the paramount importance of organizational tasks, of work discipline, and of the incomparably vast role played by trade unions, a role that stands utterly unique in this regard, for there exists no other organization capable of uniting such broad masses—but also to fully embrace and internalize the realization that we have entered a critical transition: from military tasks to economic ones.

We have achieved complete success on the military front, and now we must prepare for an equally triumphant outcome in the face of tasks that are far more demanding, requiring not only fervent enthusiasm but also self‑sacrificing dedication from the vast majority of workers and peasants. We must persuade hundreds of millions of people—people who have lived for generations in bondage and oppression, whose every spark of initiative has been stifled—to embrace new goals: millions of workers who belong to trade unions yet remain politically unenlightened, unaccustomed to seeing themselves as masters of their own destinies. We must organize them not to resist the state, but to support it, to advance the initiatives of their workers’ power, and to carry those initiatives through to completion. This transition is fraught with difficulties—not because the task itself is novel in its formulation, but because, for the first time, economic challenges are being posed on a mass scale. We must recognize and bear in mind that the economic front will prove both more arduous and more protracted than the military front; to emerge victorious on this front, we must mobilize ever greater numbers of workers and peasants to become active, engaged, and devoted participants in the struggle. And we know that this is achievable—our experience in economic construction has shown us as much—because the awareness of hardship, of cold, of hunger, and of every form of deprivation arising from a lack of productive forces runs deep within the masses. It is now imperative that we shift our focus: from political and military concerns to the realm of economic development, channeling all agitation and all propaganda toward the cause of economic reconstruction. We have proclaimed this many times before, yet we have not done enough. Indeed, among the measures undertaken by Soviet power over the past year, one stands out in particular: the establishment of the Central Bureau for Production Propaganda under the VTsIK{72}, its integration with the work of the Main Political Education Department, and the creation of supplementary newspapers organized according to production plans—not merely by shifting attention to production propaganda, but by extending that propaganda across the entire national territory.

The necessity of organizing this effort on a nationwide scale stems from the very nature of the political moment. It is essential not only for the working class and for the trade unions, but also for the peasantry; indeed, it is the most urgent need of our state apparatus—a body that has thus far been far from fully harnessed for this purpose. We possess far more theoretical knowledge about how to run industry, how to engage the masses, than we do practical experience in putting that knowledge to use. What we must achieve is this: that every single member of the trade unions becomes genuinely invested in production, and that they remember: only by increasing output and raising labor productivity can Soviet Russia hope to prevail. And it is only through this path that Soviet Russia can, within a decade, begin to alleviate the dire conditions in which it currently finds itself—the hunger and the cold that it endures today. If we fail to comprehend this task, we risk total ruin, for with our weak administrative apparatus, we will inevitably be forced to retreat, since the capitalists can at any moment renew hostilities after a brief respite—and when that moment comes, we will simply lack the strength to carry on the war. We will then be unable to muster the pressure of our millions of masses, and in that final conflict, we shall be defeated. The stakes could not be higher: throughout history, the long succession of wars has always determined the fate of revolutions—of the greatest revolutions of all. And our revolution is no less a great revolution. We have concluded one phase of warfare; we must now prepare for the next. But when that day arrives, we cannot know—and it is precisely for this reason that we must ensure that, when the time comes, we are ready to rise to the occasion. That is why we must not abandon coercive measures—not only because we are upholding the proletarian dictatorship, a regime that the peasant masses and non‑party workers alike have come to understand; all now know of our dictatorship of the proletariat, and it does not frighten them—it does not intimidate them; rather, they see in it a firm foundation, a steadfast bulwark—precisely what they can oppose to the landowners and capitalists, and without which victory is impossible.

This consciousness, this conviction—already deeply ingrained in the very flesh and blood of the peasant masses with regard to military and political tasks—must now be translated into the realm of economic tasks. Such a transition may not succeed overnight; it may well proceed only with some hesitation and occasional relapses into the old habits of laxity and petty-bourgeois ideology. We must approach this work with even greater intensity and diligence, bearing in mind that it is our task to persuade both non‑party peasants and the less conscious members of trade unions—because the truth is on our side, and because it is simply impossible to refute the fact that, in the second phase of the war, we cannot defeat our enemies without first restoring economic life. Let us strive, above all, to ensure that millions of people adopt a more conscious attitude toward the war on the economic front. This is the task of the Central Bureau for Production Propaganda; this is the task of the All‑Union Central Council of Trade Unions; this is the task of every party worker; this is the task of every apparatus within the Soviet state; this is the task of all our propaganda efforts—through which we have achieved our global successes, for our propaganda has always spoken the truth to workers and peasants around the world, while every other form of propaganda has consistently told them lies. Now, we must redirect our propaganda toward what is far more difficult: toward the daily work of workers in the workshop—no matter how harsh the conditions of that work may be, and no matter how strong the lingering memories of yesterday’s capitalist order, which fostered distrust among workers and peasants toward the authorities. We must convince both workers and peasants that, without a new alignment of forces, without new forms of state organization, without new mechanisms of coercion tied to these arrangements, we will never emerge from the quagmire, from the abyss of economic collapse at the brink of which we stand—and yet we have already begun to make our way out.

Comrades, I shall now turn to certain aspects of our economic policy and to our economic tasks, which, in my view, provide a clear picture of the current political moment and of the entire transitional period that lies before us. First and foremost, I must mention our agrarian project—the draft law submitted by the Council of People’s Commissars on the strengthening and development of agricultural production and on assistance to peasant households—a draft law that was published on December 14 of this year, and whose fundamental principles had already been communicated to local officials in advance via special radio broadcasts that elucidated the very essence of this draft law.

We must immediately arrange matters so that this draft law—drawing upon local experience (and it is precisely from local experience that it draws)—is subjected to the most thorough deliberation at the congress itself, as well as among representatives of local executive committees and executive committee departments. Surely, there is no comrade left today who would still doubt the necessity of adopting special, and especially vigorous, measures of assistance—not only in the form of incentives, but also in the form of compulsory measures—to lift agricultural production to new heights.

We have been—and remain—a country of small-scale peasant farmers, and the transition to communism is immeasurably more difficult for us than it would be under any other circumstances. For this transition to take place, the participation of the peasantry itself must be ten times greater than it was during the war. The war could—and indeed should—have called upon a portion of the adult male population. But our country, a peasant nation that is already exhausted, must now mobilize every single man and woman among the working and farming populations. It is not difficult to convince us Communists, or the workers in the land departments, that state service is necessary. I trust that, in discussing the draft law submitted for your consideration on December 14, there will be not the slightest trace of principled disagreement on this point. What we must understand, however, is the deeper difficulty: convincing the non‑party peasants. Peasants are not socialists. To construct our socialist plans as if they were already socialists would be like building on sand—such an approach would mean failing to grasp our true tasks, and failing to learn, in just three short years, how to calibrate our programs and carry out our initiatives in accordance with the impoverished, often wretched, reality in which we find ourselves. Here, we must clearly recognize the tasks that lie before us. The first task is to unite the Communist workers in the land departments, to synthesize their accumulated experience, to identify what has already been accomplished on the ground, and to incorporate these insights into the draft laws that will be issued at the central level in the name of state institutions, in the name of the All‑Russian Congress of Soviets. And we hope that together with you, we will succeed in doing just that. But this is only the first step. The second step is to convince the non‑party peasants—precisely the non‑party peasants, because they constitute the vast majority, and because the only way to accomplish what we are capable of accomplishing is to increase the ranks of this mass, which is inherently active, self‑directed, and fully aware of the need to take up this cause. We cannot continue to run peasant farms as we did in the past. If we were able to emerge from the first phase of the war, we will not be able to emerge from the second phase so easily—and therefore, we must devote particular attention to this aspect.

It is imperative that every non‑party peasant come to understand this incontrovertible truth—and we are confident that he will. He has endured these six agonizing, grueling years for a reason; he is no longer the same man he was before the war. He has suffered deeply, he has pondered long and hard, and he has borne countless political and economic burdens that have compelled him to cast aside much of what once defined him. I believe he himself now recognizes that life cannot go on as it once did; that a new way of living is not only necessary but inevitable. It is our duty to marshal all our propaganda efforts, all our state resources, all our educational institutions, all our party apparatuses and cadres—and to direct them with relentless vigor toward convincing the non‑party peasant. Only then can we lay a truly solid foundation beneath our agrarian legislation—a bill which, I trust, you will adopt unanimously, amending and supplementing it as needed, of course—so that it may serve as the bedrock upon which our policies rest. This foundation will endure only when we succeed in winning over the vast majority of peasants and drawing them into this endeavor, for—as Comrade Kuraev rightly observed in an article based on the experience of the Tatar Republic—the working middle peasants and the poor peasants are friends of Soviet power, while the idlers are its enemies. This is the plain, unadorned truth—not a shred of socialism in it—but one so self‑evident and undeniable that, at every rural assembly, at every gathering of non‑party peasants, it will take root in their consciousness and become the conviction of the overwhelming majority of the rural working population.  Comrades, this is what I wish most to emphasize to you now, as we turn from the era of war to the task of economic reconstruction. In a country of smallholder farmers, our paramount and fundamental task is to master the art of transitioning to state‑imposed coercion—to lift up peasant agriculture by beginning with the most essential, most urgent measures, measures that are fully within the reach of the peasant, fully comprehensible to him. And we can achieve this only when we succeed in persuading those millions who are still unprepared for such a transformation. We must devote every ounce of our strength to this cause and ensure that our coercive apparatus—revitalized, reinforced, and firmly anchored—is deployed with renewed vigor to advance the work of persuasion. Only then can we bring this military campaign to a victorious conclusion.  Today, we are launching a campaign against the remnants of rigidity, ignorance, and distrust that still linger among the peasant masses. Old methods will not suffice here; it is through the tools of propaganda, agitation, and organized influence—tools we have mastered—that we shall prevail and ensure not only that decrees are enacted, that institutions are established, that paper is put to use—but that is far from enough. For it is not enough merely to issue orders; we must see that by spring, every plot of land is sown more abundantly than before, that there is a discernible improvement in the affairs of the smallholder farmer—even if it is but the most elementary of improvements—more cautious, yes, but all the more effective—yet above all, this improvement must be carried out on a massive scale. If we grasp our task correctly and direct our full attention to the non‑party peasant, if we concentrate upon him all the artistry and all the experience we have accumulated over three years, then we shall emerge victorious. Without such a victory, without practical, large‑scale improvements in the agricultural economy of the smallholder farmer, there is no salvation for us: without this foundation, no economic construction is possible, and no grand plans, however ambitious, can amount to anything. Let our comrades bear this in mind and impress it upon the peasants; let them tell the non‑party peasants of Arzamas—those whose number runs into the tens or even the hundreds of millions—that we cannot afford to starve and freeze indefinitely, for in the next phase of war, we shall be overthrown. This is a matter of state interest, a matter of vital concern to our nation. Whoever shows the slightest weakness, the slightest slackness in this regard is the greatest traitor to the worker‑peasant government; whoever aids the landlord and the capitalist does so at the peril of his own soul, for the landlord and the capitalist keep their armies close at hand, ever ready to pounce upon us as soon as they perceive that we are growing weak. And there is no other way to strengthen ourselves except by bolstering our chief pillars—agriculture and urban industry—and we can raise these pillars only by convincing the non‑party peasant, by mobilizing all our forces to aid him, by offering him real, tangible assistance.

We acknowledge that we stand indebted to the peasant. We took grain from him in exchange for paper money; we borrowed from him, and we must repay that debt—and we will repay it, once we have rebuilt our industry. But to rebuild our industry, we need surpluses from agricultural production. That is why our agrarian legislation carries not only the practical significance of helping us attain concrete objectives, but also the broader significance of serving as a focal point around which hundreds of resolutions and bills issued by the Soviet authorities converge.

Now I will turn to the question of how we are currently laying the foundations for our industrial development—how we are beginning to rebuild Russia’s economic forces. Here, I must first draw your attention, amid the mountain of reports you have received—or will soon receive from all the People’s Commissariats—to a single entry in the report of our People’s Commissariat for Food Supply. Each People’s Commissariat will soon be delivering to you stacks of factual reporting materials that, taken together, overwhelm with their sheer volume; yet it is essential to sift through them and isolate what is most crucial—if only in order to achieve even modest success, to identify that which lies at the heart of our entire economic plan: the task of restoring our national economy and our industry. And one such foundational element is the state of our food procurement efforts. In this booklet distributed to you—a three‑year report from the Commissariat for Food Supply—there is a table from which I will read only the aggregate figures, and even those will be rounded off, since the numbers themselves are difficult to read—and especially to listen to. These are the aggregate procurement totals by year: from August 1, 1916, to August 1, 1917, 320 million poods were procured; the following year, 50 million; then 100 million, and finally 200 million poods. These figures—320, 50, 100, and 200—form the bedrock of Soviet economic history, the very foundation upon which Soviet economic policy has been built, the groundwork that, once mastered, enables us to embark on genuine economic construction. Before the revolution, 320 million poods represented roughly the minimum threshold below which no meaningful construction could take place. The first year of the revolution, with just 50 million poods, was marked by severe famine, bitter cold, and widespread destitution; the second year saw 100 million poods; and by the third year, that figure had risen to 200 million. Each year, the total doubled. According to data provided to me yesterday by Svidersky, as of December 15th, we had already secured 155 million poods. For the first time, we are standing on our own feet—with extraordinary strain, under unprecedented difficulties, often tasked with providing food supplies without relying on Siberia, the Caucasus, or the South. Now that we have surpassed 150 million poods, we can say without exaggeration that, despite all the immense challenges, we have nonetheless succeeded in meeting this critical objective. We will likely have a fund approaching 300 million poods—and perhaps even more—but without such a fund, it is impossible to restore the country’s industry, impossible to contemplate the revival of its transportation networks, and impossible even to begin to tackle the great task of electrifying Russia. No socialist state—no state founded on the power of workers and peasants—is viable if it cannot, through the combined efforts of workers and peasants, amass a food supply sufficient to ensure the sustenance of industrial workers, to enable tens and hundreds of thousands of workers to be deployed wherever the needs of Soviet power demand. Without this, all we will have are empty words. The true foundations of any economy lie in its food supply. And here, we have achieved tremendous success. Building on these achievements, with this food fund at our disposal, we can now proceed with the restoration of the national economy. We know that these successes have come at the cost of immense hardship, of famine and starvation among the peasantry—hardships that may yet intensify. We know that the drought-stricken year has exacerbated peasant suffering and deprivation to an unprecedented degree. That is why we are placing the measures of assistance outlined in the bill I have proposed at the very forefront of our priorities. We regard this food fund both as a resource for industrial recovery and as a means of supporting the peasantry. Without it, state power is nothing. Without such a fund, socialist policy remains nothing more than a mere aspiration.

We must also remember that alongside the vigorous production propaganda we have firmly resolved to pursue, there exists another form of influence—one that takes the shape of in-kind rewards. One of the most significant decrees and resolutions issued by the Sovnarkom and the Council of Defense was the law on in-kind bonuses. It did not come into effect immediately. Starting in April, as you will see, a long series of decisions and directives followed; it was only when, through the tremendous efforts of our transport system, we managed to build up a half-million‑pood food reserve that the law was finally enacted. Half a million poods is a rather modest figure. The reports you probably read yesterday in Izvestia show that of these 500,000 poods, 170,000 have already been consumed. The fund, as you can see, is far from impressive—and certainly not yet adequate—but we have nonetheless embarked on the path along which we will continue to advance. This serves as proof that we will not rely solely on persuasion to adopt new methods of work. It is not enough simply to urge peasants and workers to tighten their labor discipline; we must also help them, we must reward those who, after enduring unimaginable hardships, continue to display heroism on the labor front. We have indeed established the fund, but its utilization remains far from satisfactory: within the Sovnarkom, we have issued numerous instructions indicating that, in practice, in-kind bonuses often amount to little more than a simple increase in wages. There is still much work to be done in this regard. Alongside meetings and supplementary projects at the central level, the most vital work must be carried out at the local level, among the broad masses. It is not difficult to understand that the state does not merely persuade its citizens—it also rewards good workers with better living conditions—and one need not be a socialist to grasp this truth. Indeed, we can count on the sympathy of non‑party workers and the peasant masses from the outset. All we need to do is spread this idea more widely and implement this work more practically at the grassroots level.

If we now turn to the question of fuel, you will find in Comrade Rykov’s theses figures that bear witness to the improvements achieved—not only in the realm of firewood, but also in oil production. Today, thanks to the tremendous enthusiasm displayed by workers in the Azerbaijan Republic, the friendly relations that have been established between us, and the skilled leadership provided by the Sovnarkom, things are progressing well in the oil sector, and we are beginning to stand on our own feet when it comes to fuel as well. We have increased coal output from Donetsk—from 25 million poods per month—to 50 million, thanks to the work of the authorized commission dispatched to the Donbas under the chairmanship of Comrade Trotsky, which resolved to send experienced, responsible workers there to take up their posts. At present, Comrade Pyatakov has been sent to assume leadership there.

Thus, in order to achieve success in the field of fuel, we have taken certain measures. The Donetsk Basin—one of our largest reserves—is already firmly in our hands. In the minutes of the Sovnarkom and the Council of Defense, we can find resolutions pertaining to the Donbas. These documents call for the dispatch of high‑ranking, authoritative commissions to the localities, bringing together representatives of central authority and local workers. It is essential that we strengthen and streamline work at the grassroots level—and I believe these commissions will succeed in accomplishing just that. You will see the results of their efforts, which we will continue to organize in the future. We must exert considerable pressure on the principal branch of our industry: fuel.

I must say that in the realm of fuel, we have achieved one of our greatest successes in the form of a hydraulic method for extracting peat. Peat is a fuel resource of which we possess vast, almost inexhaustible reserves—but until now, we have been unable to utilize it, because we were forced to labor under intolerable conditions. This new method, however, will help us break free from the fuel shortage that poses one of the most formidable threats to our economic front. If we remain mired in old ways of managing our economy—if we fail to restore industry and transport—we will be unable to escape this deadlock for many years to come. The workers of our Peat Committee helped two Russian engineers bring this innovative invention to fruition, and they have made significant progress toward completing the process. Thus, we stand on the eve of a great revolution that will provide us with a powerful economic foundation. Let us not forget that we possess immense peat resources—but we have been unable to harness them, because we have lacked the means to send people out to perform this grueling labor. Under the capitalist system, people were driven to such harsh toil by hunger; yet under a socialist state, we simply cannot consign workers to these arduous tasks—and no one will volunteer for them of their own accord. The capitalist system always served the interests of the elite, while neglecting the needs of the masses.

We must introduce machinery more widely in every sector and expand the use of mechanical equipment wherever possible. The hydraulic extraction of peat—so successfully advanced by the VSNKh—opens up the prospect of producing fuel in enormous quantities while eliminating the need to rely on trained workers, since unskilled laborers can also be employed using this method. We have manufactured these machines ourselves; I would personally advise our fellow delegates to view the cinematic footage of peat‑extraction operations that was shown in Moscow—and which can be screened for the delegates attending the congress. This film will offer a concrete illustration of one of the key foundations for overcoming the fuel shortage. We have produced the machines used in this new method, though they were initially crafted rather poorly. As trade with foreign countries begins to resume, and even as semi‑legal commercial relations gradually take root, these same machines—designed by our own inventors—will be able to emerge in superbly refined form. The number of these machines, the successes achieved by the Main Peat Committee and the VSNKh in this field—these will serve as the yardstick by which we measure all our economic achievements, for without victory over the fuel shortage, no real triumph can be won on the economic front. Linked to this are also the most vital advances in the restoration of transportation.

As you have already seen, incidentally, in the theses presented by Comrades Emshanov and Trotsky, we are dealing here with a truly long‑range plan, elaborated over many years. Order No. 1042 was designed for a five‑year period{73}, and within those five years we can restore our transport infrastructure, reduce the number of defective locomotives, and—perhaps most challenging of all—I would like to emphasize the point made in the ninth thesis: we have already succeeded in shortening that timeframe.

And so, when grand, multi‑year plans are put forward, we often encounter skeptics who say: “How can we possibly plan for many years ahead—let’s just manage to accomplish what we need to do right now.” Comrades, we must learn to reconcile both approaches; it is impossible to work without a long‑term plan that is designed to yield substantial, lasting success. The undeniable improvement in transport operations provides clear proof of this in practice. I would like to draw your attention to the passage in Thesis 9, which states that the original target for restoring transport was five years—but that timeline has already been shortened, because we are exceeding expectations; the new target is three and a half years. This is how we must approach all other sectors of the economy. In fact, this is increasingly becoming the practical, real task of the Council of Labor and Defense. By closely monitoring both theoretical insights and practical experience, we must strive, at every level, to ensure that plans are fulfilled more quickly than originally scheduled—so that the masses can see that, through diligent effort, the long stretch of time separating us from the complete restoration of industry can be significantly shortened. The outcome depends on us. Let us improve our economic performance in every workshop, in every depot, in every region—and then we will shorten the timeline. And we are indeed shortening it. Do not fear long‑range plans: without them, no genuine economic revival can be achieved—and let us redouble our efforts at the local level to ensure their timely implementation.

It is essential that economic plans be carried out according to a well‑defined program, and that progress in fulfilling that program be systematically recorded and rewarded: the masses must not only know but also feel that the swift elimination of hunger, cold, and poverty depends entirely on their prompt and thorough execution of our economic plans. All sectoral production plans must be rigorously coordinated, interlinked, and integrated into a single, unified economic plan—a plan we so urgently need.

In light of this, we face the task of consolidating the economic People’s Commissariats into a single, overarching economic center. We have begun to address this challenge, and we have submitted to your consideration a resolution of the Sovnarkom and the Council of Labor and Defense regarding the reorganization of the latter institution.

Please review this draft—and I trust that, with the necessary amendments, it will be adopted unanimously. While the draft itself is modest in scope, it carries considerable significance, for we need an organ that is better positioned to understand its role and to coordinate all economic activities that must take precedence.

On this very issue, Comrade Gusev addressed the question in his pre‑Congress writings, in a pamphlet that, to be sure, was not as successful as his earlier work{74}. In that pamphlet, he proposed an ambitious plan to establish a Council of Labor and Defense, envisioning the transfer of many prominent figures—including, notably, the names of Trotsky and Rykov—to that body. I would argue that we should exercise greater restraint when it comes to such grandiose schemes. We cannot simply leap out of an apparatus that has taken shape over the course of three years. We are well aware of its profound shortcomings—and we will discuss these in detail at this Congress. This issue has been placed squarely on the agenda as one of the most critical questions before us: namely, the question of improving the Soviet apparatus. Yet we must proceed with caution, adapting our organizational structure in accordance with practical experience, making adjustments as needed. Comrade Gusev derides the proposal we have put forward, arguing that we are seeking to add the People’s Commissariat for Land Affairs to the Council of Labor and Defense. To be sure, that is precisely the proposal we are making. In the draft, we assign only a modest role to the Council of Labor and Defense—as the Commission for Labor and Defense under the Sovnarkom. Until now, we have operated within the Council of Labor and Defense without any formal constitution. The boundaries between the Sovnarkom and the Council of Labor and Defense were poorly defined; at times, we even exceeded those boundaries, acting in the capacity of a legislative body. Yet despite this, we never encountered serious conflicts. Whenever such situations arose, we resolved them by promptly referring the matter back to the Sovnarkom. When it became clear that we needed to establish an organ within the Council of Labor and Defense capable of more effectively coordinating economic policy, the question arose: how could we legally define these relationships? Two paths lay before us: first, to delineate the respective spheres of authority between the Sovnarkom and the Council of Labor and Defense. But to implement such a division would require vast resources devoted to codification, consume enormous amounts of paper—and even then, we could not guarantee that we would avoid error.

Let us take a different approach. The Council of Labor and Defense had long been regarded as something almost equal to the Sovnarkom. Let us abandon that notion. Instead, let us make it a commission under the Sovnarkom. By doing so, we will eliminate much of the friction and gain greater proximity to actual implementation. If a member of the Sovnarkom is dissatisfied with a particular decision—simply bring the matter before the Sovnarkom, for it can be convened within hours. In this way, we will reduce interdepartmental tensions and transform the Council of Labor and Defense into an organ that operates with speed and efficiency. This is no small task—it is intimately tied to the actual creation of a unified economic plan. The task we have been working toward, a task we have prepared for over two years, is to achieve the consolidation of the economic People’s Commissariats. That is why I draw your attention to this draft law concerning the Council of Labor and Defense—and I hope that, with the necessary amendments, you will approve it. Once that happens, the work of consolidating the economic People’s Commissariats will proceed more smoothly, more rapidly, more decisively, and with greater resolve.

I will focus on the final point—the question of electrification, which has been placed on the agenda of the Congress as a distinct issue, and for which you are about to hear a report. I believe that we are witnessing a momentous turning point here—one that, in any case, marks the dawn of great achievements for Soviet power. In the future, the rostrum of All-Russian Congresses will be graced not only by politicians and administrators, but also by engineers and agronomists. This is the beginning of a truly fortunate era: one in which politicians will become ever fewer, where political discourse will grow less frequent and less protracted, while engineers and agronomists will take center stage—speaking more often, offering deeper insights, and guiding our efforts toward genuine economic development.

To truly move forward with the task of building a sound economy, we must begin this new practice at the All-Russian Congress of Soviets and extend it down through every Soviet body and organization, across all newspapers, every propaganda and agitation outlet, and every institution—from top to bottom.

We have undoubtedly mastered the art of politics; there is no way to throw us off course here—we have a solid foundation in this domain. But when it comes to economic affairs, we still have much to learn. From now on, the best policy is to do less politics—and to put more emphasis on engineering and agronomy. Let us learn from them, scrutinize their work, and transform our congresses and meetings not into mere platforms for rallies, but into forums for evaluating economic progress—into institutions where we can truly learn the craft of economic construction.

You will hear a report from the State Commission on Electrification, established by a resolution of the VTsIK dated February 7, 1920. On February 21, the Presidium of the VSNKh signed the final resolution outlining the commission’s composition—and a host of the finest specialists and VSNKh officials, numbering over a hundred in total, devoted themselves wholeheartedly to this endeavor, joined by the most capable forces within the People’s Commissariat for Railways and the People’s Commissariat for Land Affairs. Before us lies the record of the State Commission on Electrification of Russia, presented in this volume, which will be distributed to each of you either today or tomorrow. I hope you will not be daunted by this tome—I am confident that I need not labor long to convince you of its special significance. In my view, this volume represents our Party’s second program. We already possess a Party program, brilliantly expounded by Comrades Preobrazhensky and Bukharin in a book that is both concise and supremely valuable. That program is political in nature—it lays out our tasks, clarifies the relationships between classes and masses. Yet we must also remember that the time has come to set foot upon this path in earnest and to measure its practical results. Our Party program cannot remain merely a Party program; it must be transformed into the blueprint for our economic construction—otherwise, it is unfit even as a Party program. It must be supplemented by a second Party program: a plan of action for rebuilding the entire national economy and bringing it up to the level of modern technology. Without a plan for electrification, we cannot proceed to genuine economic development. When we speak of restoring agriculture, industry, and transportation—and of harmoniously integrating these sectors—we cannot avoid addressing the broader economic plan. We must arrive at a concrete plan; of course, this will be a plan adopted only as a first approximation. Unlike our current Party program, which is subject to revision only at Party Congresses, this program will be refined, elaborated, improved, and reshaped day by day, in every workshop, in every rural district. We need it as a preliminary draft—a grand economic plan that will stand before all of Russia, calculated for at least ten years, and that will show how to place Russia on a truly sound economic foundation, one indispensable for the advent of communism.

If we fought—and successfully won—on the battlefield of war, what was one of the most powerful, most motivating impulses that multiplied our strength and our energy tenfold? It was the awareness of danger. Everyone asked: Could landowners and capitalists return to Russia? And the answer was: They could. Therefore, we doubled our efforts—indeed, we redoubled them—and we emerged victorious.

Now turn to the economic front and ask: Economically speaking, can capitalism return to Russia? We fought against “Sukharevka.” Just recently, on the eve of the opening of the All-Russian Congress of Soviets, the Moscow Council of Workers’ and Red Army Deputies closed this rather unpleasant institution. (Applause.) Sukharevka is closed—but it is not the Sukharevka that has been shut down that poses the real threat. The former Sukharevka on Sukharevskaya Square may be easy to close; that is no great feat. What is truly menacing is the “Sukharevka” that lives on in the heart and actions of every small-scale producer. It is this “Sukharevka” that must be eradicated. For this “Sukharevka” is the very foundation of capitalism. As long as it persists, capitalists can return to Russia—and they may emerge stronger than we are. We must recognize this clearly. It must become the primary driving force behind our work, and the crucial standard by which we measure our true successes. While we live in a predominantly small-peasant country, capitalism enjoys a more robust economic base in Russia than communism does. This is something we must bear in mind. Anyone who has closely observed village life—compared with urban life—knows that we have not uprooted the roots of capitalism, nor have we undermined the foundations, the very bedrock, of the internal enemy. The latter still rests upon small-scale production—and to break its hold, there is but one means: to shift the nation’s economy—including agriculture—onto a new technological base, onto the technical foundation of modern, large-scale production. And the only such base is electricity.

Dialectics is the self-movement of matter, the unfolding of its inherent contradictions in the process of development. Cognition is the conscious appropriation of this self-movement by human thought—by way of grasping the objective laws that govern the evolution of reality. Imperialism represents the highest stage of capitalism, a stage in which the contradictions of capitalist production reach their extreme expression, giving rise to global economic and political crises. The bourgeoisie, as the ruling class of capitalist society, seeks to perpetuate its dominance through exploitation, oppression, and war. Yet the proletariat, the working class, is the revolutionary force destined to overthrow this system and establish a new social order based on the principle of equality and solidarity.

The Soviets are the organs of workers’ and peasants’ power, embodying the direct democracy of the masses and serving as the vanguard of the socialist revolution. The dictatorship of the proletariat is the political form through which the working class exercises its power to dismantle the old bourgeois state and construct a new, socialist state—a state that ensures the free and equal participation of all in the management of society. Class struggle is the driving force behind historical change; it is the battleground where the interests of the exploited and the exploiters clash, and where the proletariat must wage its decisive battle for liberation.

The means of production—the instruments and relations of production—are the material foundation upon which any mode of production rests. In commodity production, labor is mediated by exchange value, and surplus value emerges as the source of profit for capital. Under capitalism, the means of production are concentrated in the hands of a small minority of capitalists, while the vast majority of workers remain alienated from the fruits of their own labor. This fundamental contradiction between labor and capital lies at the heart of the capitalist system—and it is precisely this contradiction that the proletariat must resolve in the course of its revolutionary struggle.

The Central Committee of the RCP(b), the Soviet government, and the VTsIK—the supreme organs of Soviet power—have long been engaged in the task of building socialism in Russia. The Council of Labour and Defence, established in 1921, played a crucial role in coordinating the efforts of the state to mobilize resources and implement the policies necessary for the transition to socialism. The NEP, introduced in 1921, marked a temporary retreat from full-scale collectivization and state control over the economy, allowing for the revival of private enterprise and commodity production in certain sectors. However, the NEP was never intended to be a permanent solution; rather, it was a strategic measure designed to stabilize the economy and create the conditions for the eventual triumph of socialism.

The RSFSR, as the first socialist state in history, faced immense challenges in its early years. The country was devastated by years of war, famine, and civil strife, and its industrial base had been largely destroyed. Yet despite these hardships, the Bolsheviks were determined to build a new society—one founded on the principles of equality, justice, and collective ownership. The task before them was daunting: to transform a backward, agrarian economy into a modern, industrialized society capable of meeting the needs of its people and advancing humanity’s progress.

To achieve this goal, the Bolsheviks adopted a comprehensive plan for economic reconstruction, one that would not only restore the country’s infrastructure but also lay the groundwork for a socialist economy. The plan called for the electrification of the entire nation—a project that would require massive investments in both technology and human resources. The Bolsheviks recognized that without electricity, the country could not hope to escape its state of backwardness and poverty. Indeed, the very idea of “electrification” was itself a radical departure from the prevailing norms of rural life. For centuries, peasants had lived in darkness, their lives governed by the rhythms of nature and the whims of landlords and merchants. But now, with the advent of electric light, a new era was dawning—one in which the forces of modernity could begin to reshape the countryside.

Of course, the road to socialism was fraught with difficulties. The Bolsheviks knew that they could not simply rely on technological innovation to overcome the deep-seated inequalities of Russian society. They understood that true social transformation required not only economic reforms but also profound cultural and ideological changes. It was essential, therefore, to educate the masses about the goals of socialism and to inspire them to embrace the values of equality and solidarity. To this end, the Bolsheviks launched an extensive campaign of literacy and education, aiming to eradicate illiteracy and empower workers and peasants with the knowledge and skills needed to participate in the construction of a new society.

In the early years of Soviet power, the Bolsheviks faced fierce opposition from both domestic and international enemies. The White Army, backed by foreign interventionists, sought to restore the old order and crush the nascent socialist movement. Yet the Bolsheviks remained steadfast in their commitment to the cause of the proletariat. They understood that the struggle for socialism was not merely a political battle—it was a struggle for the very soul of humanity. As Lenin famously declared, “The proletariat will win because it alone possesses the truth.” And so, despite countless setbacks and sacrifices, the Bolsheviks forged ahead, guided by the principles of dialectical materialism and the belief that history moves inexorably toward the triumph of the working class.

Today, as we look back on the achievements of the Bolshevik Revolution, we are reminded of the enduring significance of its legacy. The Soviet Union, though it ultimately collapsed under the weight of internal contradictions and external pressures, left an indelible mark on the course of world history. Its experience demonstrated that socialism is not just a utopian ideal—it is a realizable vision of a better world, one in which the exploitation of man by man is finally abolished, and in which the fruits of human labor are shared equitably among all.

As we move forward into the twenty-first century, the lessons of the Bolshevik Revolution remain as relevant as ever. The struggle for socialism is far from over; indeed, it is only just beginning. For the proletariat, the path to emancipation is paved with struggle, sacrifice, and unwavering determination. But as long as there are those who dare to dream of a world free from oppression and exploitation, the spirit of the Bolshevik Revolution will endure—as a beacon of hope for generations to come.

“Eighth All‑Russian Congress of Soviets of Workers’, Peasants’, Red Army, and Cossack Deputies. Stenographic Report”

Printed according to the text of the book, verified against the stenographic record