Kharkiv was living under an unusual tension these days.
On the streets, ordinary life continued as before: shops remained open, trains arrived at the station, workers hurried to their factories, and cabmen made their way through the snow-covered streets between carriages and military wagons. But beneath the outward calm, the expectation of change was becoming increasingly noticeable.
Delegations were arriving in the city.
They came from different places, bringing documents, mandates, and resolutions from local soviets. Some delegates had travelled by railway, while others had covered much of the journey under difficult winter conditions. Among them were representatives of workers' soviets, soldiers' organizations, and other soviet bodies operating across Ukraine.
The presence of representatives from the eastern districts was particularly noticeable.
The Donetsk-Kryvyi Rih region had sent its own delegates, and their arrival was of particular importance to the organizers of the congress. Eastern Ukraine remained one of the country's major industrial centers, and the participation of its representatives demonstrated that what was taking place in Kharkiv was not limited to the interests of a single city.
The building where the congress was to open had been busy since early morning.
In the corridors, mandates were being checked, lists were being clarified, and the order of the sessions was being discussed. Delegates gathered around acquaintances, exchanged the latest news, and argued over which questions should be brought forward first.
But behind all these conversations, one common question was gradually emerging.
What would happen after the congress?
One of the delegates, looking through documents at a long table, raised his eyes toward the man standing beside him.
—"How many have been confirmed in the end?"
—"According to the latest list, enough to open the session. But several more delegations are still expected."
—"From which districts?"
—"Mostly from the east. There are representatives from industrial soviets. Some are still clarifying their mandates."
His companion placed the sheet on the table.
—"The main thing is that we don't end up spending half our time arguing over mandates."
—"We won't avoid that entirely."
—"I understand. But we don't have much time now."
—"Until what?"
—"Until we have to decide what to do next."
The second delegate looked at him more closely.
—"You mean the question of power?"
—"What other question could be more important?"
For several seconds, silence hung between them.
Both understood perfectly what those words meant.
The events of the past few weeks had shown that the political conflict could no longer be limited to resolutions and declarations. After the failure of the armed attempt to change the situation in Kyiv, the question of power had not disappeared. It had simply taken another form.
Now the question was whether the Soviet movement could create its own center of power in Ukraine.
And if it could, what that center would look like.
Soon the chairman took his place at the presidium.
The noise in the hall gradually subsided.
The delegates took their seats, the secretaries checked the documents, and the last conversations faded into quiet whispers.
The chairman rose.
—"Comrades, please take your seats. We are beginning the work of the congress."
It took several seconds for the hall to become completely quiet.
—"Today we face a task whose significance can hardly be overstated. The question before us is no longer limited to individual decisions by local soviets. We are speaking about the future of the entire Soviet organization in Ukraine and how it will operate under the present political crisis."
Several delegates in the front rows listened attentively.
—"But before we turn to political questions, we must establish the credentials of the participants and approve the working bodies of the congress."
The verification of mandates began.
The cities, districts, and organizations that had sent their representatives were announced. The secretaries read the documents, clarified the number of delegates, and recorded the number of votes.
Arguments occasionally arose.
One of the representatives rose from his seat.
—"We have an objection concerning this delegation. We do not believe it is correct to grant it full voting rights, since the decision of the local soviet was made in the absence of some of its members."
An immediate response came from the other side of the hall.
—"That decision was officially adopted and confirmed by the documents. If we begin reviewing every internal decision of every soviet, this congress will never be able to begin its work."
—"We are not proposing to review every decision. We are speaking about a specific procedural violation."
—"And procedure should not become a pretext for depriving an entire district of representation."
The chairman raised his hand.
—"Comrades, please do not turn the verification of mandates into a political debate. The objection will be entered into the minutes. First, we must establish the actual credentials of the delegation."
The dispute gradually ended.
Similar situations arose several more times.
To an outside observer, everything taking place might have looked like ordinary bureaucracy. But for the participants of the congress, these formalities had very concrete significance.
Every vote could prove important.
Once the verification was completed, the chairman moved on to the question of the order of the sessions.
—"It is proposed that the next major question be the position of Soviet power in Ukraine."
The hall immediately became noticeably quieter.
One of the delegates rose.
—"I propose that we clarify the wording. We cannot speak only about the position of Soviet power until we determine what exactly we mean by power itself."
Several people supported him.
—"Correct."
The chairman looked toward him.
—"What wording do you propose?"
—"The question of power and the relationship between the soviets and the existing governing bodies in Ukraine."
This time the proposal caused a livelier reaction.
Another delegate rose.
—"I support the need to discuss this question, but I want to warn everyone immediately: we cannot reduce it to a dispute over names. We already have the Central Rada. It considers itself the supreme authority in Ukraine. If we intend to assert a different position, we must say clearly what exactly we are proposing in its place."
Several delegates nodded.
The chairman allowed him to continue.
—"Otherwise, we will once again adopt a resolution that nobody will be able to enforce."
Approving voices spread through the hall.
—"That is precisely why the question must be posed differently. Not simply whether we recognize one authority or another, but who is capable of exercising power locally."
An answer came from another row.
—"The soviets."
—"Which ones?"
—"A Ukrainian-wide system of soviets."
—"But such a system does not yet exist."
After those words, the hall fell silent for several seconds.
The statement was simple, but too precise to be easily dismissed.
Soviets existed in different cities and districts. They possessed a certain degree of influence, controlled individual enterprises, military units, or local institutions. But there was no unified state mechanism among them.
One of the representatives from the eastern districts rose.
—"That is exactly why we are here."
—"To create such a system?"
—"To create an organ capable of uniting it."
—"And on what authority?"
—"On the authority of the decisions of the soviets that sent us here."
—"But that authority is insufficient to govern the entire country."
—"If we wait for someone to grant us the authority to create a new government in advance, we will never create one."
Applause broke out in several parts of the hall.
However, another delegate disagreed.
—"We must not forget the consequences. If we declare one authority in place of another today, that does not mean that all of Ukraine will begin obeying it tomorrow."
—"And who is proposing that we wait?"
—"I propose that we first understand what forces we have."
—"For what purpose?"
—"To defend the decisions of the congress."
This produced more than simple approval. The hall became noticeably more animated.
The chairman looked carefully at the speaker.
—"Are you saying that the question of power cannot be separated from the question of armed force?"
—"I am saying that it would be a mistake to separate them. If we create a new political organ, it must be capable of defending itself and enforcing its own decisions."
Another delegate rose almost immediately.
—"But we did not come here to declare war."
—"War does not begin with a declaration."
The hall grew quieter.
—"It begins when two sides consider themselves the only legitimate authority and cease recognizing each other's decisions."
No one immediately answered him.
The thought gradually spread through the hall.
The congress had only just begun its work, but it was becoming increasingly clear that purely organizational questions could no longer be discussed in isolation.
The delegates faced a much more serious problem.
If they recognized the existing authority, the congress would end with another set of resolutions.
But if they decided to create their own center of power, they would have to answer the next question: how could they ensure that this center was actually capable of acting?
The chairman spoke again.
—"I propose that we include three interconnected questions on the agenda: our attitude toward the existing authorities, the organization of Soviet power in Ukraine, and the creation of executive bodies capable of carrying out the decisions of the congress."
There were almost no objections.
The proposal was adopted.
The chairman looked across the hall.
—"Then we proceed to the first question."
Several delegates prepared to speak.
But even before the first speech began, it was already clear that the session ahead would no longer be an ordinary congress of Soviet organizations.
Now they had to decide who had the right to speak on behalf of Ukraine and what should happen to the authority that already existed in Kyiv.