The Decembrists had an important place in Kerensky’s version of Russian history. In the stressful climate of the revolution, he found time to discuss the project of a memorial to the first generation of champions of freedom. He discussed the idea of erecting a monument to the Decembrists with Grand Duke Nikolai Mikhailovich, a Freemason with specialist knowledge of the era of Alexander I. This scion of the Romanov dynasty declared himself willing to donate a substantial sum of money to the project.223 About a month later Kerensky sent a letter to the main newspaper of the Socialist Revolutionary Party, offering his opinion on where the monument might best be sited.224
Kerensky’s veneration of the memory of the Decembrists was evidently sincere, but, at the same time, commemorating officers who had challenged the autocracy was an important political gesture in 1917. Reminding rank-and-file soldiers of this particular cohort of champions of freedom could help to ease tensions between them and their officers, and this was a particularly sensitive issue in the early days of the February Revolution. On 14 March, during a meeting with the writers Dmitry Merezhkovsky and Zinaida Gippius, Kerensky asked Merezhkovsky, who was working on his novel The Decembrists, to write a pamphlet reminding soldiers of the feat of those first revolutionary officers, with the aim of reducing friction in the army. Merezhkovsky’s pamphlet, The Firstborn of Freedom, was published in short order. (It was actually written by Gippius: in the earlier version of her diary she writes that she is working on The Decembrists ‘for Kerensky’.) The first version of the text, published in the journal Niva, was dedicated to ‘A. F. Kerensky, who continues the Decembrists’ cause.’225 Kerensky’s revolutionary work was presented as the culmination of the struggle begun by the ‘firstborn of freedom’, of whose memory he was the guardian. The revolutionary minister took to recalling the firstborn of freedom in speeches addressed to soldiers.226
The Decembrist theme figures in Kerensky’s speeches particularly often after he was appointed head of the Ministry of War. To some of the guards’ regiments he pointed out their historical legacy and ‘drew especial attention to the guards’ regiments from which the Decembrists had emerged.’227
The minister of war returned to this topic at the All-Russia Congress of Officers’ Deputies in Petrograd. He urged the deputies to think of themselves as the heirs of the Decembrists’ cause and to apply the memory of them to strengthen the morale of the revolution’s armed forces. ‘I am fully confident that a tradition of the Russian army which dates from the times of the Decembrists will be raised by the officer corps to the level required.’ His speech was enthusiastically received.228
Speaking shortly afterwards, on 17 May in Sevastopol, Kerensky reminded his listeners of the ‘fighting and revolutionary traditions’ of the Black Sea Fleet: ‘The cherished memory of Lieutenant Schmidt is closest of all to you, and I am certain, comrades, that you will fulfil your duty to your country to the end.’ In Sevastopol, Kerensky was trying to resolve conflicts which had flared up between Kolchak and the fleet’s elected organizations, between the naval command and the ordinary sailors. Referring to the memory of a revolutionary officer was intended to contribute to resolving urgent political problems. Kerensky was seeking to reinforce Kolchak’s authority, mentioning the role of the navy’s commander in stabilizing the new order. He reminded the sailors of their historic responsibility, of their duty to remain true to the memory of the champions of freedom and carry their mission forward. ‘We cannot recklessly fritter away the great legacy won by the blood and toil of many generations of the Russian intelligentsia from the Decembrists onwards. By good fortune we have become the first to enjoy great freedom, and we must protect it and pass it on to our descendants.’229
The cult of champions of freedom, promoted by different political players in 1917, would have been unimaginable without glorifying the surviving veterans of the movement. Members of the various groups celebrated the old revolutionaries who were ideologically closest to them, ‘living monuments’ to the struggle who, by their support, could legitimize the current leaders.230 Of particular importance was the celebrating of Yekaterina Breshko-Breshkovskaya, who had joined the revolutionary ranks in the 1870s and had spent more than three decades in prison and exile. The Socialist Revolutionary Party of which she was a member established a personal cult of the ‘Grandmother of the Russian Revolution’. Portraits and biographies were printed, numerous resolutions were addressed to her, and when she spoke in public she was invariably the centre of attention.
Breshkovskaya was not celebrated as a leader of the party, but her authority as a heroine and martyr who had lived her life by the precepts of the party’s saints was assiduously promoted by the Socialist Revolutionaries. It served to strengthen the party’s influence and was a tool in the power struggle between sundry factions of the party. Breshkovskaya was one of the most popular figures of the February Revolution. As we have seen, a film was made about her life, and groups of soldiers and students declared themselves the respectful grandchildren of the beloved grandmother. Socialist Revolutionary propaganda urged their supporters to continue the legacy of the aged revolutionary.231
Kerensky never tired of showing his respect for the veterans of the revolutionary movement, provided they were supportive of his policies. Their authority was a valuable asset which bolstered his influence. At the Congress of the Socialist Revolutionaries he referred with demonstrative piety to the party’s ‘teachers’, ‘guides’ and ‘doughty champions’. Kerensky modestly referred to himself as one of the disciples and rank-and-file workers, one of the Socialist Revolutionary Party’s younger generation which, in the period of reaction, feeling its way in the dark, had, as best it could, carried forward the ‘spark of our party’s faith and way of life’. Concluding his speech, Kerensky told the delegates that, having gained so much from rubbing shoulders with the ‘best champions, he nevertheless always strove to feel, if for only a moment, that he was once again their ordinary, insignificant fellow party member and comrade.’232 Speaking earlier, at the All-Russia Congress of Soviets of Peasants’ Deputies, he had said much the same thing: ‘Old teachers came to my aid whose names we have known since childhood.’233
In the first weeks of the revolution Kerensky appeared several times at public ceremonies in the company of the veteran revolutionary Vera Figner. She gave her support to a number of his initiatives – for example, heading a fund he created as minister of justice to support former political prisoners. In a single week, 17–24 March, 340,000 rubles were donated for their needs. The donations were addressed to Vera Figner and Olga Kerenskaya. Including money previously sent to Olga Kerenskaya, the final total of donations amounted to 2,135,000 rubles.234 Such a huge response testifies to the respect enjoyed by Kerensky, and the participation of Figner gave the venture even greater reach. The ability to extend support to former prisoners and exiles, many of whom were joining the political elite of revolutionary Russia, was a valuable political lever for the minister.
Of particular importance for Kerensky was his friendship with Yekaterina Breshko-Breshkovskaya, which underlay their later political cooperation. They met in 1912 when he had travelled to Siberia. One of Kerensky’s first actions when he became minister of justice was to order her immediate release. He demanded, moreover, that the local authorities should convey her with due pomp and ceremony to the capital. On 29 March, when, after a triumphal progress, she finally arrived in Petrograd, Kerensky was there to meet and spend the day with her. Sharp tongues scoffed that he was playing the role of page-boy to a grandmother. Breshkovskaya was naturally flattered by the attention paid to her by the popular hero of the February Revolution.
At Kerensky’s suggestion, the old revolutionary lady lived in his residences: first in the Ministry of Justice building and later in the Winter Palace. During working lunches attended by politicians and diplomats she acted as hostess. Breshko-Breshkovskaya reminisced later, ‘I went with him to the headquarters of the minister of justice, and he put me up there. I kept asking how I could find a place to stay, but he was having none of it. “Don’t you find it comfortable here?” And so we remained good, true friends all that time. In fact, I will