FIVE YEARS OF THE RUSSIAN REVOLUTION AND THE PROSPECTS OF WORLD REVOLUTION
REPORT TO THE IV CONGRESS OF THE COMMINTERN, NOVEMBER 13
(The appearance of Comrade Lenin is met with stormy, prolonged applause and ovations from the entire hall. Everyone rises to their feet and sings “The Internationale.”) Comrades! I am listed among the speakers as the principal rapporteur, but you will understand that after my long illness, I am not in a position to deliver an extensive report. I can only offer an introduction to the most crucial questions. My topic will be quite narrowly circumscribed. The subject “Five Years of the Russian Revolution and the Prospects of World Revolution” is far too broad and momentous for any single speaker to exhaust in a single address. Therefore, I am confining myself to but a small portion of this overarching theme—namely, the question of the “New Economic Policy.” I deliberately focus on this limited segment in order to familiarize you with what is now the most important issue—certainly the most important issue, at least for me, since I am currently engaged in work on it.
Thus, I shall speak about how we embarked upon the New Economic Policy and what results we have achieved through its implementation. If I limit myself to this one question, perhaps I will succeed in providing a general overview and offering a comprehensive understanding of the matter at hand.
To begin with, let us consider how we came to adopt the New Economic Policy. To do so, I must turn to an article I wrote in 1918, No. 169. In early 1918,

THE IV CONGRESS OF THE COMMUNIST INTERNATIONAL
I had, in a brief polemical essay, touched upon the question of what stance we ought to take toward state capitalism. At that time, I wrote:
“State capitalism would represent a step forward compared to our present (that is, the then-current) state of affairs in our Soviet Republic. If, say, within about six months, we were to establish state capitalism, that would be an enormous success—and the surest guarantee that, within a year, socialism would be firmly entrenched in our country and become invincible.”
Of course, this was said at a time when we were somewhat less sophisticated than we are today—but not so naïve as to be incapable of grappling with such questions.
In 1918, I therefore held the view that, in relation to the economic conditions prevailing in the Soviet Republic at that time, state capitalism constituted a step forward. This may sound quite strange—and perhaps even absurd—since our republic was already a socialist republic; at that very time, we were undertaking, with the greatest haste—perhaps even excessive haste—various new economic initiatives that could only be described as socialist in nature. And yet, I maintained then that state capitalism, when compared to the economic conditions then existing in the Soviet Republic, represented a step forward—and I went on to elaborate on this idea by simply enumerating the various components of Russia’s economic structure. In my view, these components were as follows: “1) patriarchal, or the most primitive form of agriculture; 2) small-scale commodity production (which includes the majority of peasants who trade in grain); 3) private capitalism; 4) state capitalism; and 5) socialism.”* All of these economic elements were present in Russia at that time. My task then was to explain the relative positions of these various elements vis-à-vis one another.

* See Collected Works, 5th ed., vol. 36, p. 295. Ed.
** Ibid., p. 296. Ed.

And I asked myself: should one of the non-socialist elements—namely, state capitalism—be regarded as superior to socialism? I repeat: to many, it may seem highly unusual that a non-socialist element should be considered more advanced, deemed higher in rank than socialism, in a republic that proclaims itself socialist. But the matter becomes clear if you recall that we never regarded Russia’s economic system as something homogeneous or highly developed; rather, we were fully aware that in Russia we had patriarchal agriculture—the most primitive form of farming—alongside the socialist mode of production. So what role could state capitalism possibly play in such a context?
I then asked myself: which of these elements predominates? It is clear that in a petty-bourgeois milieu, the petty-bourgeois element holds sway. I recognized at the time that the petty-bourgeois element was dominant; to think otherwise was simply impossible. The question I posed to myself then—this was in a specialized polemic unrelated to the issue at hand—was: how should we regard state capitalism? And I answered myself: although state capitalism is not a socialist form, it would be a more favorable arrangement for us and for Russia than the status quo. What does this mean? It means that we did not overestimate either the embryonic forms or the initial stages of socialist economy—even though we had already carried out the social revolution; on the contrary, we were already, to a certain extent, aware that yes, it would have been better if we had moved toward state capitalism sooner, and only then toward socialism.
I must especially emphasize this point, because I believe that only by starting from this premise can we, first, explain what the current economic policy actually entails—and second, draw from it profoundly important practical conclusions for the Communist International. I do not mean to suggest that we had a pre‑planned strategy of retreat. That was not the case. These brief polemical lines…

IV CONGRESS OF THE COMMUNIST INTERNATIONAL
at that time was by no means a plan for retreat. For example, not a single word is devoted to one extremely important issue—namely, freedom of trade—which holds fundamental significance for state capitalism. Nevertheless, the general, rather vague idea of retreat had already been articulated. I believe we must pay attention to this not only from the perspective of a country whose economic structure was—and remains—deeply underdeveloped, but also from the standpoint of the Communist International and the advanced nations of Western Europe. Take, for instance, the task of drafting our program: personally, I am convinced that the best course of action would be to discuss all programs in broad terms, so to speak, in a first reading, have them printed, yet defer final decision-making until a later date—not this year, not in the present calendar year. Why? First and foremost, of course, because we have scarcely given these programs due consideration. But beyond that, we have almost entirely neglected to address the question of possible retreat—and of how to secure such a retreat. Yet this is precisely the kind of question that, in the face of such profound global transformations as the overthrow of capitalism and the construction of socialism, with all its immense challenges, we must absolutely take into account. We must not only know how to act when we launch a direct offensive and emerge victorious; during revolutionary times, this is neither particularly difficult nor especially crucial—though it is certainly not the decisive factor. In the heat of revolution, there are always moments when the enemy loses its composure—and if we strike at such a moment, we can win with relative ease. But this in itself means little, for if our adversary possesses sufficient resilience, he can regroup his forces in advance and more. He can easily provoke us into launching an attack, only to throw us back many years. That is why I maintain that the notion of preparing ourselves for the possibility of retreat is of paramount importance—not only from a theoretical standpoint, but also from a practical one. All parties that, in the near future, are poised to launch a direct offensive against capitalism must now likewise begin to consider how they might secure their own means of retreat. If we heed this lesson—as well as all the other lessons drawn from the experience of our revolution—it will not only do us no harm; on the contrary, in many cases, it is highly likely to prove beneficial.
Having emphasized that as early as 1918 we were already contemplating state capitalism as a potential line of retreat, I now turn to the results of our New Economic Policy. Let me reiterate: at that time, this was still a very vague idea—but by 1921, after we had successfully surmounted the most critical phase of the Civil War, we encountered a major, indeed, I would argue the greatest, internal political crisis in Soviet Russia. This internal crisis revealed discontent not only among significant segments of the peasantry, but also among the working class. It was, I hope, the first—and perhaps the last—time in the history of Soviet Russia that large masses of the peasantry, not through conscious deliberation, but instinctively, driven by mood and sentiment, turned against us. What gave rise to this peculiar—and, of course, deeply unpleasant—situation for us? The root cause lay in the fact that, in our economic offensive, we had pushed too far ahead; we had failed to establish a sufficiently solid base. The masses sensed something that we ourselves were not yet capable of articulating consciously—but which we soon came to recognize, just a few weeks later: namely, that a direct transition to purely socialist forms, to a wholly socialist mode of distribution, exceeded our available resources. And if we were unable to execute a retreat that allowed us to confine ourselves to more manageable tasks, then we faced the specter of ruin. As I recall, the crisis began in February 1921. By spring of the same year, we had unanimously resolved—indeed, I saw no significant disagreements on this matter within our ranks—to adopt the New Economic Policy. Now, after a year and a half has passed, and as we approach the end of 1922, we are finally in a position to draw certain comparisons. So what has happened?

IV CONGRESS OF THE COMMUNIST INTERNATIONAL
How have we weathered these more than a year and a half? What has been the outcome? Has this retreat served us well—and has it truly saved us, or is the result still uncertain? This is the central question I pose to myself, and I believe that this fundamental question bears paramount importance for all communist parties. For if the answer were negative, we would all be doomed. I am convinced that, with a clear conscience, we can all affirmatively answer this question—namely, in the sense that the past year and a half have unequivocally and positively demonstrated that we have successfully passed this test.
I will now endeavor to prove this. To do so, I must briefly outline the various components of our economic system.
First and foremost, let us turn to our financial system and the famed Russian ruble. I believe we may rightfully regard the Russian ruble as “famous,” if only because the total number of rubles in circulation now exceeds a quadrillion. (Laughter.) That is quite something. It is an astronomical figure. I am certain that not everyone here even fully grasps what this number actually signifies. (General laughter.) Yet from an economic perspective, we do not consider these numbers overly significant—after all, those trailing zeros can simply be erased. (Laughter.) We have already made considerable progress in this art, which, from an economic standpoint, is ultimately of little consequence—but I am confident that, as events unfold, we will achieve far greater mastery in this field. What truly matters, however, is the question of stabilizing the ruble. We are devoting our best efforts to this task, and we accord it decisive priority. If we succeed in stabilizing the ruble over the long term—and eventually, forever—then we shall have won. At that point, all those astronomical figures—those trillions and quadrillions—will amount to nothing. Then we will be able to place our economy on solid ground and to build upon that foundation, continuing to develop it with confidence. On this issue, I believe I can present you with some highly significant and conclusive evidence. In 1921, the period of stability in the paper ruble’s exchange rate lasted less than three months. By contrast, in the current year, 1922—though it has not yet come to a close—this period has already exceeded five months. I believe that is sufficient. Of course, it is not enough if you seek scientific proof that we will fully resolve this challenge in the future. But in my view, it is altogether impossible to provide such complete and absolute proof. The data at our disposal demonstrate that, since last year—when we launched our New Economic Policy—up to the present day, we have learned how to move forward. If we have mastered this, then I am confident that we will continue to achieve further successes along this path—provided we do not commit some particularly egregious folly. Most crucially, though, it is trade—the very commodity turnover that we so desperately need. And if we have managed to navigate this terrain over the past two years, despite being in a state of war (for, as you know, Vladivostok was occupied only a few weeks ago), despite the fact that we are only now beginning to conduct our economic activities in a thoroughly systematic manner—if we have nonetheless succeeded in extending the period of stability for the paper ruble from three months to five, then I dare say that we may well take pride in this achievement. After all, we stand alone. We have received no loans—and we are receiving none. None of those powerful capitalist states, which so “brilliantly” organize their capitalist economies yet still do not know where they are headed, have offered us any assistance. Through the Treaty of Versailles, they created a financial system in which even they themselves are lost. If these great capitalist powers manage their affairs in such a way, then I believe that we—backward and uneducated though we may be—can already be satisfied with having grasped the most vital lesson: having understood the conditions necessary for stabilizing the ruble. This is proven not through some abstract theoretical analysis, but through practice—and in my view, practice is far more important than all the theoretical debates in the world. Practice shows that we have achieved decisive results here: we are beginning to steer our economy toward ruble stabilization, a goal of paramount significance…

IV CONGRESS OF THE COMMUNIST INTERNATIONAL
a condition conducive to trade, to the free flow of commodities, and to the peasantry and the vast mass of small producers.
I now turn to our social objectives. Above all, of course, there is the peasantry. In 1921, we were confronted with widespread discontent among a significant portion of the rural population. Then came famine—and for the peasantry, this represented the most severe trial imaginable. It was only natural that the entire world cried out at the time: “Look! This is the result of socialist economics!” Of course, it was equally natural that they remained silent about the fact that, in reality, the famine was a monstrous consequence of the Civil War. All the landowners and capitalists who had launched their offensive against us in 1918 portrayed the famine as if it were the product of socialist economic policies. The famine was indeed a great and grave misfortune—a calamity that threatened to destroy all our organizational and revolutionary efforts.
So I ask: after this unprecedented and unexpected disaster, how do things stand today—now that we have introduced the New Economic Policy, now that we have granted the peasantry freedom of trade? The answer is clear and obvious to all: within a single year, the peasantry not only overcame the famine but also fulfilled its tax-in-kind obligations to such an extent that we have already received hundreds of millions of poods—almost entirely without resorting to any coercive measures. Peasant uprisings, which before 1921 had, so to speak, been a common occurrence across Russia, have almost completely disappeared. The peasantry is quite satisfied with its current situation—and we can state this with complete confidence. We believe that these empirical observations are more telling than any statistical data. There is no doubt that the peasantry is the decisive factor in our country. Today, the peasantry has reached a state where we need not fear any movement against us. We say this with full awareness, without exaggeration. This has already been achieved. The peasantry may be dissatisfied with one aspect or another of our government’s work—and it may even lodge complaints about it. Of course, this is both possible and inevitable, since our administrative apparatus and our state economy are still far from perfect, and it is difficult to prevent such discontent. But any serious dissatisfaction on the part of the peasantry as a whole is, in any case, utterly out of the question. This has been accomplished within a single year. I believe that this is already a great deal.
Turning now to light industry: we must distinguish between heavy and light industry, for they occupy fundamentally different positions. As for light industry, I can confidently say that we are witnessing a general upturn. I will not go into detail; it is not my task to present statistical data. But this overall impression is grounded in concrete facts, and I can assure you that there is nothing false or inaccurate in it. Light industry is experiencing a general revival, and in connection with this, there has been a marked improvement in the conditions of workers both in Petrograd and in Moscow. In other regions, the improvement is less pronounced, because heavy industry predominates there—and we should not generalize beyond those areas. Nevertheless, I repeat: light industry is undeniably on the rise, and the improvement in working conditions for workers in Petrograd and Moscow is undeniable. In both of these cities, there had been unrest among workers in the spring of 1921; today, such unrest has completely vanished. Those of us who monitor the conditions and sentiments of workers day in and day out are not mistaken on this point.
The third issue concerns heavy industry. Here, I must say that the situation remains difficult. A notable turning point in this regard occurred in 1921–1922. We can therefore hope that conditions will improve in the near future. We have already begun to gather the necessary resources for this purpose. In a capitalist country, improving the state of heavy industry would require loans amounting to hundreds of millions—without such loans, progress would have been impossible. Economic history

IV CONGRESS OF THE COMMUNIST INTERNATIONAL
The experience of capitalist countries demonstrates that, in backward nations, only long-term, hundred-million-dollar loans—denominated in U.S. dollars or in gold rubles—could serve as a means to uplift heavy industry. We did not have such loans, and to this day we have received nothing. What is being written now about concessions and the like amounts to little more than so much paper. We have written extensively on this topic lately, particularly regarding the Urkarta concession. However, I regard our concession policy as highly commendable. Nevertheless, we still do not possess any truly profitable concessions—and I urge that this fact not be forgotten. Thus, the state of heavy industry presents a truly daunting challenge for our backward country, since we could not rely on loans from the wealthier nations. Despite this, we are already witnessing marked improvements, and we can further see that our trade activities have begun to yield some capital—albeit a modest sum, barely exceeding twenty million gold rubles. In any case, the groundwork has been laid: our trade is providing us with resources that we can harness to bolster heavy industry. At present, our heavy industry remains, by all accounts, in a very precarious position. Yet I believe the crucial factor is that we are now able to save a small surplus. We will continue to do so. Although this often comes at the expense of the population, we must nonetheless begin to economize. We are now working to reduce our state budget and streamline our state apparatus. I will have more to say later about our state apparatus. In any event, we must shrink our state apparatus; we must economize wherever possible. We are cutting back on everything—even on schools. This is necessary, because we know that without rescuing heavy industry, without restoring it to full strength, we will never be able to build any real industry—and without such an industrial base, we will ultimately perish as an independent nation. We understand this all too well.

For Russia, salvation lies not merely in a good harvest in the peasant economy—though that alone is far from sufficient—but also in the robust health of light industry, which supplies the peasantry with consumer goods—though even that is still insufficient. We also need a strong heavy industry. And to bring it into proper shape will require several years of sustained effort.
Heavy industry depends on government subsidies. If we fail to secure these subsidies, then—as a civilized state, let alone as a socialist one—we are doomed. In this respect, we have taken a decisive step forward. We have begun to accumulate the funds necessary to enable heavy industry to stand on its own feet. The sum we have raised thus far, while admittedly just over twenty million gold rubles, is nonetheless available—and it is earmarked exclusively for the purpose of lifting our heavy industry to new heights.
I believe that, in broad terms, I have briefly outlined for you, as I had promised, the principal elements of our national economy. From all this, I think we can conclude that the New Economic Policy has already yielded positive results. We now have concrete proof that, as a state, we are capable of engaging in trade, of safeguarding solid positions in both agriculture and industry, and of moving steadily forward. Practical experience has borne this out. I believe that, for the time being, this is enough for us. We still have much to learn—and we have come to realize that we must continue to learn. We have held power for five years, and throughout those five years we were engaged in a state of war. As a result, we have achieved success.
This is understandable, for the peasantry stood firmly by our side. Few could have been more steadfastly on our side than the peasantry. They understood that behind the Whites stood the landowners—the very people they hated above all others. And so the peasantry, with boundless enthusiasm and unwavering loyalty, rallied to our cause. It was no great feat to win the peasantry over to our defense against the Whites. The peasants, who had once loathed war, now did everything in their power to fight against…

IV CONGRESS OF THE COMMUNIST INTERNATIONAL
the Whites, in order to wage civil war against the landowners. Nevertheless, that was still not enough, for at its core the question was whether power would remain in the hands of the landowners or in the hands of the peasants. For us, that was insufficient. The peasants understand that we seized power on behalf of the workers and that our ultimate goal is to establish a socialist order through the use of this very power. Consequently, the most crucial task before us was the economic preparation of a socialist economy. We could not achieve this directly; we were compelled to pursue it by roundabout means. The state capitalism we have established in our country is a distinctive form of state capitalism—not one that conforms to the conventional understanding of the term. We hold all the commanding heights in our hands; we control the land, which now belongs to the state. This is of immense importance, even though our adversaries would have us believe it amounts to nothing. That is incorrect. The fact that the land is owned by the state is profoundly significant—and carries substantial practical implications in economic terms as well. We have accomplished this, and I must say that all our subsequent activities must unfold exclusively within these parameters. We have already achieved a degree of satisfaction among our peasantry, seen industry begin to revive, and witnessed trade regain its momentum. As I have already noted, our state capitalism differs from the narrowly construed notion of state capitalism in that, under the banner of the proletarian state, we control not only the land but also the most vital sectors of industry. To begin with, we have leased only a portion of small and medium-sized enterprises—while the remainder remains firmly in our grasp. With regard to trade, I would like to emphasize once more that we are striving to establish mixed enterprises—indeed, we are already founding such enterprises, where part of the capital is held by private capitalists, including foreign investors, while the other part belongs to us. First and foremost, through this approach we learn how to engage in commerce—a skill we absolutely need; second, should we deem it necessary, we always retain the option to liquidate such an enterprise, so that, in a sense, we risk nothing. Meanwhile, we observe and learn from private capitalists, gaining insight into how we might advance ourselves and identifying the mistakes we are prone to make. I believe that this is sufficient for my purposes.
I would like to touch upon a few additional minor points. There is no doubt that we have made—and will continue to make—countless blunders. No one can judge this more accurately or see it more clearly than I can. (Laughter.) So why do we make these mistakes? The reasons are obvious: first, we are a backward country; second, education in our nation is woefully inadequate; third, we receive no assistance from abroad—no civilized state extends a helping hand to us. On the contrary, every one of them works against us. Fourth, it is due to the shortcomings of our own state apparatus. We inherited the old state machinery, and that proved to be our undoing. The state apparatus often works against us. In 1917, after we had seized power, the state apparatus actively sabotaged our efforts. We were terrified and pleaded, “Please, return to us!” And so they did—returning en masse, which became yet another source of misfortune for us. Today, we have vast numbers of civil servants, but we lack sufficiently trained personnel capable of truly managing them. In practice, it often happens that up here, where we wield state authority, the apparatus functions only fitfully, while down below, officials act on their own initiative—and in ways that frequently run counter to our policies. Up above, we may have—but I cannot say exactly how many—we have, at most, only a few thousand, perhaps a few tens of thousands of our own people. But down below, there are hundreds of thousands of old bureaucrats, recruited from the Tsarist era and from bourgeois society, who work either consciously or unconsciously against us. There is little that can be done about this in the short term—it is undeniable. We must devote many years to refining the apparatus, transforming it, and bringing new forces into the fold. We are making progress fairly rapidly—perhaps too rapidly…

IV CONGRESS OF THE COMMUNIST INTERNATIONAL
…with great momentum. Soviet schools and workers’ faculties have been established; several hundred thousand young people are studying—perhaps a bit too rapidly—but in any case, the work has begun, and I believe it will bear fruit. If we proceed not too hastily, then within a few short years we will have a vast number of young people capable of fundamentally transforming our administrative apparatus.
I have said that we have committed an enormous number of blunders—but I must also say something along these lines about our adversaries. When our opponents accuse us and claim that Lenin himself admitted that the Bolsheviks had made countless mistakes, I would like to respond: yes, but you know, our mistakes are quite different from yours. We have only just begun to learn, yet we are learning with such systematic rigor that we are confident we will achieve excellent results. But if our adversaries—namely, the capitalists and the heroes of the Second International—insist on highlighting the blunders we have made, then let me offer, by way of comparison, the words of a celebrated Russian writer, which I will slightly rephrase so that they read as follows: when the Bolsheviks make mistakes, the Bolshevik says, “Two times two equals five”; but when their adversaries—the capitalists and the heroes of the Second International—make mistakes, what comes out is: “Two times two equals a stearin candle”170. This is easy enough to demonstrate. Take, for example, the agreement with Kolchak, concluded by America, Britain, France, and Japan. I ask you: are there any more enlightened and powerful nations in the world? And what came of it? They promised Kolchak assistance without doing the math, without reflecting, without observing. It was a fiasco that, in my view, is almost beyond comprehension from the standpoint of human reason.
Or consider another example—closer still, and even more significant: the Treaty of Versailles. I ask you: what did the “great,” “glorious” powers accomplish here? How can they now find a way out of this chaos and absurdity? I do not think it would be an exaggeration to say that

I will repeat: our mistakes are nothing compared to the blunders committed collectively by capitalist states, by the capitalist world, and by the Second International. Therefore, I believe that the prospects for world revolution—a topic I must briefly touch upon—are favorable. And under one specific condition, I believe they will become even better. I would like to say a few words about these conditions.
In 1921, at the Third Congress, we adopted a resolution on the organizational structure of communist parties, as well as on the methods and content of their work171. The resolution is splendid—but it is almost entirely rooted in Russian conditions; in other words, everything in it is drawn from the Russian context. This is its strength, but also its weakness. It is weak because I am convinced that almost no foreigner can truly understand it—I reread this very resolution before making this statement. First, it is far too long, containing fifty or more paragraphs. Foreigners are rarely able to read through such lengthy documents. Second, even if someone were to read it, no foreigner would truly grasp its meaning—precisely because it is so thoroughly imbued with the Russian spirit. It is not that the resolution is written in Russian—it has been beautifully translated into every language—but rather that it is permeated from top to bottom by the Russian ethos. And third, even if, by some rare chance, a foreigner were to understand it, he would still be unable to put it into practice. That is its third shortcoming. I have spoken with several delegates who have come here, and I hope that, as the Congress progresses—even though I unfortunately cannot participate in person—I will be able to engage in detailed discussions with a large number of delegates from various countries. I have come to the impression that with this resolution, we have made a grave mistake: namely, that we have effectively closed off our own path to further success. As I have already noted, the resolution is beautifully crafted; I endorse all fifty—or more—of its paragraphs. But we failed to recognize how best to approach foreigners with our own Russian experience. Everything set forth in the resolution has remained nothing more than dead letter. Yet unless we come to understand this, we will be unable to advance…

IV CONGRESS OF THE COMMUNIST INTERNATIONAL
to move forward. I believe that the most important thing for all of us—both Russian comrades and our international friends—is that, after five years of the Russian Revolution, we must now learn. We have only just been granted the opportunity to learn. I do not know how long this opportunity will endure; I do not know how long the capitalist powers will allow us the luxury of studying in peace. But every moment free from military activity, from war, must be devoted to learning—and above all, to learning first and foremost.
The entire Party and every stratum of Russian society are demonstrating this through their burning thirst for knowledge. This eagerness to learn shows that our most pressing task at present is: to learn—and to keep on learning. Yet foreign comrades must also learn—not in the same way that we must learn—to read, to write, and to comprehend what we read—though we still have much to master in these areas. Some debate whether this pertains to proletarian culture or bourgeois culture. I leave that question open. In any case, one thing is certain: above all, we must learn to read, to write, and to understand what we read. Foreign comrades need not concern themselves with that. What they require is something far more advanced—and first and foremost among these things is a deeper understanding of what we have written about the organizational structure of communist parties, and of what foreign comrades have signed without reading or comprehending. That must become their primary task. It is imperative that this resolution be put into practice. This cannot be accomplished overnight—it is utterly impossible. The resolution is distinctly Russian: it reflects Russian experience, which is why it remains completely incomprehensible to foreigners. They cannot simply hang it on the wall like an icon in a corner and pray before it. Nothing can be achieved that way. They must absorb a portion of Russian experience. How this will come to pass, I do not know. Perhaps the fascists in Italy, for example, will render us great service by explaining to the Italian people that they are still insufficiently enlightened and that their country is not yet fully secure from the Black Hundreds. Perhaps that will prove highly beneficial. We Russians, too, must seek ways to explain the fundamentals of this resolution to our foreign comrades. Otherwise, they are utterly incapable of implementing this resolution. I am convinced that in this regard we must tell not only the Russian comrades but also our international friends that the most crucial task in the period now upon us is none other than learning. We are learning in the broadest sense of the word. But they must learn in a specialized sense—in order to truly grasp the organization, the structure, the methods, and the substance of revolutionary work. If that happens, then—I am convinced—the prospects for the world revolution will not merely be good; they will be outstanding. (Stormy, prolonged applause. Shouts of “Long live our comrade Lenin!” elicit fresh, thunderous rounds of applause.)
“Pravda,” No. 258, November 15, 1922.

Printed according to the text of “Bulletin of the IV Congress of the Communist International,” No. 8, dated November 16, 1922, verified against the German-language stenographic record edited by V. I. Lenin.