Chapter 4: The October Revolution - The Betrayed Revolution
After a long and eventful day, I collapsed onto the bed in my lodgings.
So much had happened in just one day. It was bewildering enough to wake up in Petrograd, caught in the whirlwind of the Russian Revolution.
Not only had I met Jack Reed, America's foremost Socialist revolutionary, and Kim Alexandra, the first Korean communist, but I'd also met Leon Trotsky himself, the revolution's very embodiment.
What would become of me? Would I ever be able to return home while I was still alive? And... was this all a dream, or was it reality?
I didn't know. Perhaps I would never find out. And here I was, thousands of miles from home—my homeland a century in the past—potentially dying in a foreign land.
I buried my face in the pillow. The conversation I'd just had with Trotsky at the Smolny Institute began to replay in my mind.
***
Trotsky's eyes, behind those round spectacles, pierced me like X-rays, reading me down to my very bones. He leaned forward, his voice low and urgent: "Comrade Lee, you must understand the gravity of the situation. The Russian Republic stands at a crossroads. The path to true socialism is narrow and treacherous, fraught with factionalism and betrayal."
I nodded, my mind reeling from the weight of his words. "But Comrade Trotsky, what of the Bolsheviks? They seem so divided..."
Trotsky's expression darkened. "The Bolsheviks are not a monolith. There are those who cling to old ways, who seek power for its own sake. They call themselves 'Bolsheviks,' but they are not true to the cause. They are factionalists, seeking to divert the revolution for their own ends."
He paused, his gaze intense. "And then there are those like me, who remain true to the original ideals of the Bolshevik Revolution. We are the true Bolsheviks, the ones who will carry the flame of revolution forward, even in the face of overwhelming odds."
I hesitated, then ventured, "But Comrade Trotsky, what of Stalin? He seems to have considerable influence..."
Trotsky's face twisted in contempt. "Stalin? He is a charlatan, a usurper. He claims to follow Lenin's legacy, but he perverts it. He is the architect of the Stalinist regime, a regime that has betrayed the very principles of the revolution. He is the enemy of the people, the enemy of the revolution."
His voice softened, but the intensity remained. "Comrade Lee, you must understand. The revolution is not just a political upheaval. It is a spiritual awakening, a rebirth of humanity. It is the struggle against oppression, against exploitation. It is the fight for a world where all people are equal, where all people have the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness."
He leaned back, his eyes burning with conviction. "The revolution will not be betrayed. It will triumph. And when it does, the world will be a better place. A place where the people rule, where the people prosper. A place where the true spirit of the revolution lives on."
I nodded, my heart swelling with hope. "Thank you, Comrade Trotsky. I will do all I can to support the revolution."
Trotsky smiled, a rare and genuine smile. "Good. Remember this, Comrade Lee: the revolution is not a destination, but a journey. It is a never-ending struggle against oppression, against exploitation. It is a struggle that we must wage every day, every hour, every minute. It is a struggle that we must never abandon, no matter the cost."
He stood, his presence commanding. "Now, if you will excuse me, Comrade Lee, I have work to do. The revolution waits for no man."
I rose, my heart pounding with purpose. "Thank you, Comrade Trotsky. I will see you again soon."
Trotsky nodded, his eyes burning with conviction. "Until then, Comrade Lee. Until then."
***
I lay back on the bed, my mind spinning with the weight of Trotsky's words. The revolution... it was not just a political upheaval, but a spiritual awakening. A rebirth of humanity. A struggle against oppression, against exploitation. A fight for a world where all people were equal, where all people had the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
I closed my eyes, my heart swelling with hope. The revolution... it would not be betrayed. It would triumph. And when it did, the world would be a better place. A place where the people ruled, where the people prospered. A place where the true spirit of the revolution lived on.
***
I awoke the next morning to the sound of gunfire. The October Revolution had begun.
Behind his glasses, Leon Trotsky's gaze pierced me like an X-ray, reading me down to my very bones—including my thoughts.
Kim Alexandra had introduced me and then swiftly left the room. Now only Trotsky and I remained, alone together.
I was now face-to-face with Trotsky—a man who, to some, represented salvation and the gospel, and to others, a curse and destruction.
"Comrade Siyeong Lee? When I heard from Comrade Chairman Kim, he described you as clever and articulate. Was Comrade Kim's introduction entirely false? Comrade Lee?"
Overwhelmed by the situation, I remained silent. Trotsky's impatience grew, and he began to provoke me.
I exhaled deeply. I was extremely nervous, but I knew exactly what I needed to do here.
I had to somehow get points with Trotsky.
I had inherited the position of Foreign Affairs Commissioner thanks to Kim Alexandra's recommendation.
Even if my boss were an ordinary company employee rather than Trotsky, I wouldn't want to show incompetence. In the worst case, I might be branded as a "fallen sky crane"—a person appointed solely due to connections.
I slowly opened my mouth. What should I say to live up to the reputation of a Foreign Affairs Commissioner?
"...Comrade Leon Trotsky, do you believe the revolution will succeed?"
"What?"
The single word I spat out at the end of our exchange was enough to furrow Trotsky's brow. But his furrowed brow quickly smoothed back into its usual shape. Instead, the questioning look he'd had regarding me seemed to transform into genuine interest.
Trotsky casually cracked his knuckles. I swallowed hard. Here was the second greatest agitator in all of Russia—no, all of Eurasia—preparing his artillery.
"Hasn't the revolution already succeeded?" he asked. "What revolution are you talking about, Comrade Lee?"
"Do you really believe the February Revolution was complete?" I countered. "The revolution I speak of is the second revolution—the one that will topple the Kerensky Provisional Government and establish Bolshevik Russia."
I delivered a straight punch to Trotsky, who was pretending not to understand. Of course, this was hardly a proper straight punch, just a quick jab.
Even so, Trotsky's pupils dilated noticeably.
"I'm glad you don't beat around the bush, Comrade Lee. But you need to work on the time it takes you to get to the point. The debaters in the arena won't wait for long intervals. They'll have tossed your head aside by then."
Trotsky chuckled. No, you're just nervous because you're meeting me, you bastard... The words rose to my throat, but I barely managed to restrain them.
"Do you think the revolution can succeed?" I asked. "Of course. The Kerensky Provisional Government is like a house already on fire and starting to collapse. If the Bolshevik Revolution is about kicking that house down with our feet, you'd get the same answer whether you asked a nursing infant in Petrograd or a veteran of the Crimean War: 'Of course!'"
But true to his reputation as a skilled debater, Trotsky immediately straightened his posture and countered. *Ah, Trotsky. His cunning is legendary.*
He was like a boxer who feigned weakness to lure his opponent into a false sense of security, then swiftly landed a counter punch. That's the impression I got from Trotsky's debating style.
So I knew I could never defeat Trotsky with a straightforward approach. But...
"It's true that I spoke about the Bolshevik Revolution, Comrade Trotsky, but the Bolshevik Revolution doesn't end with the overthrow of the Provisional Government."
If I use a 'cheat,' can I defeat Trotsky in this debate?
"Even if the Bolshevik Revolution succeeds, if the newly established Soviet state becomes a corrupt, bureaucratic state like the Russian Empire or the Russian Republic, wouldn't that be the failure of the Bolshevik Revolution—or rather, what we could call 'The Revolution Betrayed'?"
I could hear Trotsky gasp sharply from here. Now's the time to strike with the fatal blow.
"I too believe the Provisional Government will fall. But I think the Bolshevik Revolution is not just about destroying structures, but also about rebuilding them, Comrade Trotsky. The question I'm raising is this: even if the Bolshevik Revolution succeeds, can the newly established Soviet Russia avoid becoming a 'corrupt workers' state' and maintain its freedom and democracy?"
The Revolution Betrayed was the title of Trotsky's book, written in exile, in which he criticized Stalinist Soviet Union. "Corrupt workers' state" was a phrase frequently used by Trotskyists when criticizing the Soviet Union. In other words, I was using Trotsky's own words to criticize the ideals of a Trotskyist revolution.
Did Trotsky never consider the problems that would arise after the revolution? That wasn't certain. The Trotsky I knew was both a passionate theorist and a cold-blooded activist.
But seeing the look in his eyes, I intuitively knew my strategy had succeeded. Just moments before, those eyes had brimmed with confidence, but now they gazed at me with a mixture of doubt and awe.
"No... What in the world are you talking about, Comrade Lee?"
It was now 1917. Trotsky wouldn't begin his confrontation with Stalin and his bureaucratic clique until at least the 1920s.
Had Trotsky ever seriously considered the political system that would emerge after the establishment of the Soviet Union? Probably not. If he had, he wouldn't have made so many enemies.
"How could... Soviet Russia could never fall into the self-contradiction of bureaucratic ossification. Moreover... no... that, that..."
Trotsky stumbled over his words several times, unable to muster a coherent rebuttal to my argument. The look in his eyes, which had once held awe, now held murderous intent.
Only then did I realize that he was my superior. Not only had I failed to curry favor with my boss, but I had also publicly declared that the revolution he championed was doomed to fail.
This isn't about grades; it's about my job.
Trotsky, having apparently organized his thoughts, spoke again.
"I don't know where you got such an idea, but it's extremely dangerous. If anyone else had heard it instead of me, they might have dealt with you immediately. Never utter such words in front of a fellow Bolshevik."
The weight of my words suddenly hit me. If Trotsky was right, another Bolshevik might have tried to "half-kill" me if they'd heard them.
Trotsky abruptly sprang up from his chair and began pacing the room. I could hear him muttering to himself, but I couldn't make out what he was saying. Was he talking to himself?
"By the way!"
Trotsky suddenly stopped pacing around the room and shouted at me. Damn, he startled me.
"Comrade, you're harboring very dangerous thoughts. Considering my relationship with Comrade Kim, I'll recognize you as a member of the Third Foreign Affairs Committee, but you must never utter such words in front of me, or any other party members! Never! It could be seen as factional reaction, undermining the revolutionary fervor and stirring unrest among party members!"
"W-What choice do I have, Comrade Trotsky?"
Wow, what a terrifying scolding. I was just trying to curry favor with him. Factional reaction? If I were truly a factionalist, he wouldn't be worrying about this.
"Get out!"
"Huh?"
"Get out! Don't you understand Russian?"
And so, for the crime of misusing my mouth, I was thrown out of Trotsky's office.
***
"...Haa."
Honestly, I don't know. Is it right for me to be here in Petrograd?
Part of the reason I brought this up with Trotsky was because I felt sorry for the Soviet Union. As he said, it had truly become a "corrupt workers' state."
Trotsky, who coined those very terms and wrote a book titled The Revolution Betrayed, I thought he would understand me—understand my genius (?). But perhaps that was my mistake.
In the end, is Trotsky no different from the other Communists who distanced themselves from their comrades, calling them "Trotskyists" or "factionalists"?
I felt suffocated. Was I foolish to believe that Trotsky could have created a Soviet Union without dictatorship, a slightly more democratic one?
I recalled the debate with Vladimir that led me to come here. He was the one who justified Soviet and Russian dictatorships by claiming Stalin should have killed more people.
There's even the argument that Russia is fundamentally incompatible with democracy, given the near-total lack of successful democratic examples in Russian history.
Was this fight doomed from the start?
If I want to save democracy, would it be better to join the Kerensky Government instead? After all, the Kerenskyists were closer to the modern democracy I know.
But something was bothering me. Hadn't I come to Petrograd in 1917, just a month before the October Revolution, precisely because I was meant to participate in the revolution?
And... wasn't my destiny in this world to prevent the October Revolution from being "the revolution betrayed," as Trotsky had described it?
"Then... Social Democracy? Or no, Democratic Socialism..."
But how could I achieve that? The Bolsheviks, led by Lenin and Trotsky, had sparked the revolution by opposing the moderate socialists, the Mensheviks and Kerensky.
What should I do? What must I do here?
And so passed my first night in Petrograd.
***
"Comrade Trotsky, it's lights-out time. Are you not sleeping?"
"I'll head to bed soon. I have some things to think about."
Leon Trotsky sat in his study, glaring at his desk for a long time. He hadn't even noticed that several hours had passed since the young Mongolian man had left. Only the words the man had left behind remained etched in his mind, refusing to fade.
Even if the Bolshevik Revolution succeeds, can the new Soviet Russia avoid becoming a 'corrupt workers' state' and maintain its freedom and democracy?
Trotsky had been unable to answer the question the man had posed earlier. He had never seriously considered such a problem before—or rather, it would be more accurate to say he had deliberately avoided thinking about it.
Among the Bolsheviks, questioning the nature of the world after the revolution was taboo.
The reason was simple: the Bolsheviks were like racehorses that only saw the revolution. It was taboo for these racehorses to look beyond the finish line.
Trotsky had believed he could easily answer the young man's question. He consoled himself by thinking he'd been rushed for time earlier.
But several hours had passed since the young man left, and Trotsky still hadn't found an answer.
Bureaucracies inevitably become corrupt. So what efficient method of managing a state could exclude bureaucracy?
If a new Soviet Russia were established, the Bolsheviks would inevitably occupy all key positions. How then could the Soviet maintain its democracy in such circumstances?
The young man's seemingly trivial and insignificant questions soon coalesced into a massive avalanche, crushing Trotsky's logical structure. Trotsky's goat-like beard trembled.
Every time he resolved one contradiction, another would arise. If he addressed democracy, freedom became problematic. Resolving freedom brought corruption to the fore.
In the end, despite staying up all night, Trotsky failed to find a solution. Watching the morning sun rise beyond the horizon, he repeated Siyeong's name to himself.
"Siyeong... Siyeong... Lee... I will never forget you..."
Muttering these words, Trotsky buried his face in his desk. Soon, the sound of his snoring echoed through the office.