The Revolt Against Civilization: The Menace of the Underman (Part 19)
As part of our commitment to the celebration of forgotten classics—i.e., great works of the past which have been intentionally flushed down the memory hole by our Orwellian overlords—National Vanguard is proud to present a condensed edition of Lothrop Stoddard’s pioneering treatise The Revolt Against Civilization: The Menace of the Underman, originally published in 1922.
To appreciate the significance of this work, one must understand that in his day Stoddard was a certified member of America’s (now-former) WASP establishment. An old-stock Yankee from Brookline, Massachusetts, Stoddard held a Ph.D. in History from Harvard University and was one of the most prominent intellectuals in the country prior to the Second World War. It is only because of the triumph of Jewish propaganda from that war that racialists like Stoddard have since been relegated to obscurity.
By Lothrop Stoddard
HOW, INDEED, can it be otherwise? Let us look once more at Russia. Consider, first of all, the Bolshevik leaders. Some of them, like Lenin, are really able men, but most of them appear to belong to those sinister types (“tainted geniuses,” paranoiacs, unbalanced fanatics, unscrupulous adventurers, clever criminals, etc.) who always come to the front in times of social dissolution — which, indeed, give them their sole opportunity of success. In fact, this has been admitted by no less a person than Lenin himself. In one of his extraordinary bursts of frankness, he remarked in his speech before the Third Soviet Conference,
Among one hundred so-called Bolsheviki — there is one real Bolshevik, with thirty-nine criminals and sixty fools.
It would be extremely instructive if the Bolshevik leaders could all be psychoanalyzed. Certainly, many of their acts suggest peculiar mental states. The atrocities perpetrated by some of the Bolshevik Commissars, for example, are so revolting that they seem explicable only by mental aberrations like homicidal mania or the sexual perversion known as sadism.
One such scientific examination of a group of Bolshevik leaders has been made. At the time of the Red terror in the city of Kiev, in the summer of 1919, the medical professors of Kiev University were spared on account of their usefulness to their terrorist masters. Three of these medical men were competent alienists, who were able to diagnose the Bolshevik leaders mentally in the course of their professional duties. Now their diagnosis was that nearly all the Bolshevik leaders were degenerates, of more or less unsound mind. Furthermore most of them were alcoholics, a majority were syphilitic, while many were drug fiends. Such were the “dictators” who for months terrorized a great city of more than 600,000 inhabitants, committed the most fiendish atrocities, and butchered many leading citizens including scholars of international reputation .
Of course, what is true of the leaders is even truer of of the followers. In Russia, as in every other social upheaval, the bulk of the fighting revolutionists consists of the most turbulent and worthless elements of the population, far outnumbering the small nucleus of genuine zealots for whom the revolution is a pure ideal. The original “Red Guard” of Petrograd, formed at the time of the November coup, was a most unsavory lot, made up chiefly of army deserters, gunmen, and foreign adventurers, especially Letts from the Baltic Provinces. The Bolshevik leaders from the start deliberately inflamed the worst passions of the city rabble, while the “pauper” elements in the villages were systematically incited against the thriftier peasants. When the Bolshevik Government became firmly established, proletarian violence was controlled and directed against its enemies.
The spirit, however, remained the same — a spirit of wild revolt, of measureless violence, of frenzied hatred of the old order in every form. All glory, honor, and triumph to the revolution; to the fury of the proletarian will; to the whirlwind of unfettered brute-action; to the madness for doing things! This spirit is vividly portrayed in Alexander Block’s famous poem, The Twelve . Block preaches implacable hatred of the old world; of the “lazy bourgeois”; of all that belongs to yesterday, which fancied itself secure and now has become the booty of the Red Guards.
For the bourgeois woe and sorrow.
We shall start a world-wide fire,
And with blood that fire we’ll blend.
The “bourgeois,” the middle-class man, is hated even worse than the aristocrat and the great capitalist. This attitude is not peculiar to the Russian Bolsheviks; it is shared by all social revolutionists, both of to-day and of yesterday. In the preceding chapter we have seen how fierce was the hatred of the middle classes among Anarchists and Syndicalists. In Russia it is felt by all the revolutionary parties. Here, for example, is how the Menshevik, Gregory Zilboorg, describes the bourgeoisie:
The great enemy of a genuine revolution is, not capitalism itself, but its by-product, its bastard offspring, the middle class; and as long as the middle class remains intact in Europe, a revolution is not possible. . . . Materialism demonstrated a certain diabolic genius in creating its faithful servant, the middle class. The rule of the middle class is nothing less than a ‘dictatorship of the propertariat.’ While that dictature lasts, the new order of society will remain unborn. 
Such being the attitude of revolutionists of all shades, the fate of the Russian middle classes after the Bolshevik triumph was a foregone conclusion. As a matter of fact, the Bolsheviks proceeded to shatter this “stumbling-block of the revolution” with a ruthless efficiency unparalleled in history. The middle classes were proscribed en masse, “Boorjooy” becoming as fatal an epithet in Soviet Russia as “Aristocrat” was in Jacobin France. All over Russia the bourgeois were degraded into persecuted pariahs, systematically fenced off like lepers from the rest of the population and condemned to ultimate extinction as unfit to live in the new Communistic society.
The tragedy that followed baffles description. Multitudes of bourgeois fled beyond the frontiers. Other multitudes scattered across Russia as homeless refugees. The bravest joined the “White” armies and fell fighting in the civil wars. The rest huddled in their desolate homes, like condemned criminals waiting for death exposed to every hardship and ignominy that their persecutors could heap upon them. The most effective means devised by the Bolsheviks for “eliminating” the bourgeoisie was the “differential food ration.” The population was graded by classes and rationed accordingly, members of the Communist Party faring best, while “Boorjooy” received least of all — in Lenin’s jocose phraseology, “bread enough to prevent them from forgetting its smell.” Their official ration being quite insufficient to sustain life, the bourgeois eked out a wretched existence by bartering to food-smugglers such of their goods as had not been seized or stolen, and when these were gone — starved.
The result of all this has been the utter ruin (and in large part the physical annihilation) of the old Russian middle classes. Many hundreds of thousands, at the very least, must have perished, while those still alive are physically wrecked and spiritually broken. To be sure, there is the so-called “new bourgeoisie,” sprung from the ranks of sly food-smugglers and peasant profiteers. But this new bourgeoisie is far inferior to the old in everything except low cunning and crass materialism.
In fact, the Bolsheviks themselves almost deplore the disappearance of the old bourgeoisie when they contemplate its sinister successor. Says Ivestia, the Bolshevik official organ:
Our old bourgeoisie has been crushed, and we imagine that there will be no return of old conditions. The power of the Soviets has succeeded the old regime, and the Soviet advocates equality and universal service; but the fruits of this era are not yet ready to harvest, and there are already unbidden guests and new forms of profiteers. They are even now so numerous that we must take measures against them. But the task will be a difficult one, because the new bourgeoisie is more numerous and dangerous than the old. The old bourgeoisie committed many sins, but it did not conceal them. A bourgeois was a bourgeois. You could recognize him by his appearance. . . . The old bourgeoisie robbed the people, but it spent part of its money for expensive fixtures and works of art. Its money went by indirect channels to the support of schools, hospitals, and museums. Apparently the old bourgeoisie was ashamed to keep everything for itself; and so gave back part. The new bourgeoisie thinks of nothing but its stomach. Comrades, beware of the new bourgeoisie.
The fate of the middle classes was shared by other elements of Russian society; by the nobility, gentry, capitalists, and “intellectuals.” The tragedy of the intellectuals is a peculiarly poignant one. The Russian intellectuals, or Intelligensia, as they called themselves, had for generations been Russia’s brain and conscience. In the Intelligentsia were concentrated Russia’s best hopes of progress and civilization. The Intelligentsia stood bravely between despotic Czardom and benighted masses, striving to liberalize the one and to enlighten the other, accepting persecution and misunderstanding as part of its noble task. Furthermore, beside the almost caste-like stratification of old Russian society, the Intelligentsia stood, a thing apart. Recruited from all classes, it was not itself a class, but rather a non-class or super-class element. From this it naturally followed that the Intelligentsia was not of one mind. It had its conservatives, its liberals, its radicals, even its violent extremists — from which the brains of Nihilism and Bolshevism were drawn. The prevailing tone was, however, “liberal”; that is to say, a spirit of constructive reform. The Intelligentsia backed the political revolutions of 1905 and March, 1917. The latter, in particular, fired it with boundless hopes. The Intelligentsia believed that its labors and trials were at last to be rewarded; that Russia was to become the liberal, progressive nation of its dreams.
Then came the Bolshevik coup of November. The extremist wing of the Intelligentsia accepted Bolshevism with delirium, but the majority rejected it with horror. Bolshevism’s narrow class consciousness, savage temper, fierce destructiveness, and hatred of intellect appalled and disgusted the Intelligentsia’s liberal idealism. But the Bolsheviks, on their side, had long hated and despised the intellectuals, regarding them as enemies to be swept ruthlessly from their path. The result was a persecution of the intellectuals as implacable as the persecution of the bourgeoisie. The Russian intellectuals were killed, starved, and driven into exile. Multitudes perished, while the survivors were utterly broken and intellectually sterilized. As time passed, to be sure, the economic collapse of Russia (largely through sheer brain famine) compelled the Bolshevik Government to abate its persecution and to offer some of the intellectuals posts in its service. However, the offer was coupled with such humiliating, slavish conditions that the nobler spirits preferred starvation, while those who accepted did so only in despair.
The martyrdom of the Russian Intelligentsia is vividly described by one of their number in the following poignant lines. Says Leo Pasvolsky:
I have seen educated men coming out of Russia; their general appearance, and particularly the crushed hopelessness of their mental processes, is a nightmare that haunts me every once in a while. They are a living testimonial to the processes that are takng place in Russia. . . . Such an exodus of the educated and intelligent as there has been out of Russia no country has ever seen, and certainly no country can ever afford. The Intelligentsia has lost everything it had. It has lived to see every ideal it revered shattered, every aim it sought pushed away almost out of sight. Embittered and hardened in exile, or crushed spiritually and physically under the present government, the tragedy of the Russian Intelligentsia is the most pathetic and poignant in human history. 
The blows which Bolshevism has dealt Russia’s intellectual life have been truly terrible. Indeed, it is not too much to say that Bolshevism has beheaded Russia. The old Intelligentsia is destroyed, blighted, or in exile. And, so long as Bolshevism rules, it is difficult to see how a new Intelligentsia can arise. The Bolshevik Government has undertaken the herculean task of converting the whole Russian people to Communism, seeing therein the sole guarantee of its continued existence. To this supreme end everything else must be subordinated. But this means that education, learning, science, art, and every other field of intellectual activity is perverted into propaganda; that all doubtful or hostile ideas must be excluded; that no critical or independent thinking can be tolerated. And history has conclusively demonstrated that where thought is not free there is no true intellectual life, but only intellectual mummies or abortions.
Furthermore, the still more fundamental query arises, whether, even if Bolshevik rule should soon end, Russia may not have suffered such racial losses that the level of her intelligence has been permanently lowered. Russia’s biological losses have been appalling. For five long years a systematic extirpation of the upper and middle classes has been going on, and the results of this “inverse selection” are literally staggering. The number of Rusian exiles alone, to-day scattered to the four corners of the earth, is estimated at from one to two millions. Add to these the hundreds of thousands who have perished by execution, in prison, in the civil wars, and by disease, cold, and famine; add to these, again, the millions who survive ruined, persecuted, and thus unlikely to rear their normal quota of children; and we begin to realize how the Russian stock has been impaired — how well the Under-Man has done his work!
To be sure, against all this may be set the fact that Russia’s racial losses are probably not so terrible as those which Bolshevism would inflict upon the more advanced Western nations. Russia’s very backwardness, together with the caste-like rigidity of old Russian society, minimized the action of the “social ladder” and hindered that “draining” of talent from the lower into the higher social classes which has proceeded so rapidly in western Europe and America. Nevertheless, even if Russia’s racial losses are not so fatal as those which the West would suffer under similar circumstances, they must be very grave and largely irreparable.
Of course these considerations can have no influence whatever upon the conduct of the Bolsheviks themselves, because the philosophy of the Under-Man denies heredity, believes passionately in “natural equality” and the omnipotence of environment, and pins its faith on mass quantity instead of individual quality.
Indeed, the Bolsheviks believe that the whole world order, both as it now exists and as it has in the past existed, is hopelessly aristocratic or bourgeois; that to the proletariat it is meaningless and useless; that it should therefore be utterly destroyed; and that in its place must arise a new “proletarian” world order, created exclusively by and for the proletariat. This theory is absolute. It makes no exceptions; all fields of human activity, even science, art, and literature, being included. The climax of this theory is the Bolshevik doctrine of “Proletarian Culture,” or, as it is termed in Bolshevik circles, Prolet-kult.
Of course, here as elsewhere, Bolshevism has invented nothing really new. The idea of “proletarian culture” was preached by the Syndicalists twenty years ago. The Bolsheviks have, however, elaborated the doctrine, and in Russia they are actually attempting to practise it. The Russian Bolsheviks are, to be sure, divided over the immediate cultural policy to be pursued. Some assert that, since existing culture is to the proletariat meaningless, useless, and even dangerous, it should be scrapped forthwith. Others maintain that existing culture contains certain educative elements, and that these should therefore be used for the stimulation of the proletarian culture of the future. To the latter faction (which has the support of Lenin) is due the preservation of Russia’s art treasures and the maintenance of certain artistic activities like the theatre and the opera along more or less traditional lines. However, these factional differences, as already stated, are merely differences of policy. In principle both factions are agreed, their common goal being the creation of an exclusive, proletarian culture. Let us, therefore, examine this doctrine of Prolet-kult as expounded by its partisans in Russia and elsewhere.
The arch-champion of Prolet-kult in Russia is Lunacharsky. He is one of the most powerful Bolshevik leaders and holds the post of Commissar of Education in the Soviet Government, so he is well able to make his cultural ideas felt. Lunacharaky holds the doctrine of Prolet-kult in its most uncompromising form. His official organ, Proletarskaia Kultura (Proletarian Culture) sets forth authoritatively the Bolshevik cultural view. Let us see precisely what it is.
Lunacharsky categorically condemns existing “bourgeois” culture from top to bottom, and asserts that it must be destroyed and replaced by a wholly new proletarian culture. Says Lunacharsky:
Our enemies, during the whole course of the revolutionary period, have not ceased crying about the ruin of culture. As if they did not know that in Russia, as well as everywhere, there is no united common human culture, but that there is only a bourgeois culture, an individual culture, debasing itself into a culture of Imperialism — covetous, bloodthirsty, ferocious. The revolutionary proletariat aspires to free itself from the path of a dying culture. It is working out its own class, proletarian culture. . . . During its dictatorship, the proletariat has realized that the strength of its revolution consists not alone in a political and military dictatorship, but also in a cultural dictatorship.
Lunacharsky’s editorial dictum is enthusiastically indorsed by multitudes of “Comrades” who, in prose and verse, enliven Proletarskaia Kultura’s edifying pages. The old bourgeois culture is, of course, the object of fierce hatred. Sings one poetic soul:
In the name of our To-morrow we will burn Rafael,
Destroy museums, crush the flowers of art.
Maidens in the radiant kingdom of the Future
Will be more beautiful than Venus de Milo.
Science (as it now exists) is likewise under the ban. For example, one “Comrade” Bogdanoff, desiring to show what transformations the material sciences and philosophy will have to undergo in order to make them suitable for proletarian understanding, enunciates a series of propositions. Of these the ninth is that astronomy must be transformed from its present state into a “teaching of the orientation in space and time of the efforts of labor.”
To the non-Bolshevik mind these ideas sound insane. But they are not insane. They are merely a logical recognition of the fact that, in a society organized exclusively on proletarian principles, every thread in the fabric, whether it be political, social, economic, or artistic, must harmonize with the whole design, and must be inspired by one and the same idea — class consciousness and collectivism. This is clearly perceived by some contributors. Says one:
In order to be a proletarian creator it is not enough to be an artist; it is also necessary to know economics, the laws of their development, and to have a complete knowledge of the Marxist method, which makes it possible to expose all the strata and mouldiness of the bourgeois fabric.
And another observes:
Marx has established that society is, above all, an organization of production, and that in this lies the basis of all the laws of its life, all development of its forms. This is the point of view of the social-productive class; the point of view of the working collective.
Indeed, one writer goes so far as to question the need for any art at all in the future proletarian culture. According to this Comrade, art arose out of individual arriving, passion, sorrow, disillusion, the conflict of the individual with the Fates (whatever shapes they might take, whether those of gods, God, or Capitalists). In the Communistic society of the future, where everybody will be satisfied and happy, these artistic stimuli will no longer exist, and art will thus become both unnecessary and impossible.
This annihilating suggestion is, however, exceptional; the other Comrades assume that proletarian culture will have its artistic side. Proletarian art must, however, be mass art; the concepts of genius and individual creation are severely reprobated. This is, of course, in accordance with the general theory of Bolshevism: that the individual must be merged in the collectivity; that talented individuals merely express the will of the mass incarnated in them. This Bolshevik war against individuality explains why the overwhelming majority of the Russian Intelligentsia is so irreconcilably opposed to Bolshevism. It also explains why those who have bowed to Bolshevism have ceased to produce good work. They have been intellectually emasculated.
The Comrades of Proletarskaia Kultura set forth logically why proletarian culture must be exclusively the work of proletarians. This is because only a proletarian, strong in his class consciousness, can think or feel as a proletarian. Therefore, only to true proletarians is given the possibility of creating proletarian culture. Converts of bourgeois origin may think themselves proletarians, but they can never really belong to the creative elect. To this stern rule there are no exceptions. Even Karl Marx  is excluded from along the proletarian’s “deeper experiences”; like Moses, he may “look into the land of milk and honey, but never enter it.”
Furthermore, this new culture, produced exclusively by proletarians, must be produced in strictly proletarian fashion. The “culture workman,” reduced to a cog in the creative machinery, produces cultural commodities like any other commodities, turns out art and literature precisely like boots and clothing. Why not, since culture, like industry, is subject to unbending economic principles and can be expressed in a collective convention symbolized by the machine? Why should not an artist or author be like an ordinary workman, working so many hours a day in the company of other artistic or literary workmen, and pooling their labors to produce a joint and anonymous product?
The upshot of all this is the artists’ or writers’ workshop. Here we have the fine flower of proletarian culture! Bourgeois methods are, it seems, all wrong. They are intolerably antisocial. The bourgeois author or artist is an incorrigible individualist. He works on inspiration and in the solitude of his study or studio. For proletarian authors and artists such methods are unthinkable. Neither inspiration nor individual absorption being necessary to them, they will gather at a fixed hour for their communal labors in their workshops. Let us look in on a writers’ workshop as depicted by Comrade Kerzhentsev:
The literary work of the studios may be divided into various branches. First, the selection of the subject. Many authors have special ability in finding favorable subjects, while utterly unable to develop them respectably. Let them give their subjects to others. Let these subjects, and perhaps separate parts of them — scenes, pictures, episodes, various types and situations be collected. From this treasure of thought, material will be extracted by others. . . . It is precisely in such studios that a collective composition may be written. Perhaps various chapters will be written by various people. Perhaps various types and situations will be worked out and embodied by various authors. The whole composition may be finally written by a single person, but with the constant and systematic collaboration of the other members of the studio in the particular work.
This appalling nonsense is wittily punctured by an English critic in the following pungent lines:
What self-respecting author will submit to the bondage of this human machine, this ‘factory of literature’? This scheme, to my mind, is too preposterous to require an answer; yet, if one must be given, it can be contained in in a single word: Shakespeare!
Here was an individual who could write a better lyric, better prose, could define the passions better, could draw clearer types, had a better knowledge of human psychology, could construct better, was superior in every department of the literary art to all his contemporaries. A whole “studio” of Elizabethans, great as each was individually, could have hardly put together a work of art as “collective” (if you will) and as perfect as this one man by himself. Imagine the harmony of Homer bettered by a collection of “gas-bags” meeting to discuss his work! Imagine the colossal comedy of an Aristophanes “improved” by the assistance of a lot of solemn-faced sans-culottes, dominated by an idee fixe, whom the comic author might even wish to satirize!
Would even lesser men consent to it? Imagine Wells and Bennett and Conrad and Chesterton, with their individual minds, produced in the opulent diversity of nature, collaborating in one room. Picture to yourself, if you can, a literary workshop, shared by Cannan, Lawrence, Beresford, Mackenzie, assisted, say, by Mrs. Humpfry Ward, Marie Corelli, and Elinor Glyn.
To this, the Bolsheviks will of course give their stereotyped reply that this diverse condition has been brought about by a bourgeois civilization; for laws of nature, the stumbling-block of good and bad Utopias, do not exist for them. But it is a long way from theory to practice, and they are a long way from having bound the Prometheus of creation to the Marxian rock. 
The Russian Bolsheviks have, however, tried to do so in at least one notable instance. We have all heard of the famous (or notorious) “House of Science,” where Russia’s surviving savants have been barracked under one roof and told to get together and produce. Thus far, the House of Science has produced nothing but a high death-rate.
So much for Prolet-kult in Russia. Perhaps it may be thought that this is a special Russian aberration. This, however, is not the case. Prolet-kult is indorsed by Bolsheviks everywhere. For example: those stanch “Comrades,” Eden and Cedar Paul, twin pillars of British Bolshevism and acknowledged as heralds of the Communist cause by Bolshevik circles in both England and America, have devoted their latest book to this very subject . In this book all “bourgeois culture” is scathingly condemned. Our so-called “general culture” is “a purely class heritage.” “There is no culture for the ‘common people,’ for the hewers of wood and the drawers of water.” There is no such thing as “scientific” economics or sociology. For these reasons, say the authors, there should be organized and spread abroad a new kind of education, “Proletcult.” This, we are informed,
is a fighting culture, aiming at the overthrow of capitalism and at the replacement of democratic culture and bourgeois ideology by ergatocratic culture and proletarian ideology.
The authors warmly indorse the Soviet Government’s prostitution of education and all other forms of intellectual activity to Communist propaganda, for we are told that the “new education” is inspired by “the new psychology,” which
provides the philosophical justification of Bolshevism and supplies a theoretical guide for our efforts in the field of proletarian culture. . . . Education is suggestion. The recognition that suggestion is autosuggestion, and that autosuggestion is the means whereby imagination controls the subconscious self, will enable us to make a right use of the most potent force which has become available to the members of the human herd since the invention of articulate speech. The function of the Proletculturist is to fire the imagination, until the imagination realizes itself in action.
This is the revolution’s best hope, for
the industrial workers cannot have their minds clarified by an education which has not freed itself from all taint of bourgeois ideology.
Such is the philosophy of the Under-Man, preached by Bolsheviks throughout the world. And in practice, as in theory, Bolshevism has everywhere proved strikingly the same. As already stated, the triumph of Bolshevism in Russia started a wave of militant unrest which has invaded the remotest corners of the earth. No part of the world has been free from Bolshevik plots and Bolshevik propaganda, directed from Moscow.
Furthermore, this Bolshevik propaganda has been extraordinarily clever in adapting means to ends. No possible source of discontent has been overlooked. Strictly “Red” doctrines like the dictatorship of the proletariat are very far from being the only weapons in Bolshevism’s armory. Since what is first wanted is the overthrow of the existing world order, any kind of opposition to that order, no matter how remote doctrinally from Bolshevism, is grist to the Bolshevist mill. Accordingly, in every quarter of the globe, in Asia, Africa, Australia, and the Americas, as in Europe, Bolshevik agitators have whispered in the ears of the discontented their gospel of hatred and revenge. Every nationalist aspiration, every political grievance, every social injustice, every racial discrimination, is fuel for Bolshevism’s incitement to violence and war .
73. The most flagrant instance was the murder of Professor Florinsky of Kiev University, an international authority on Slavic history and jurisprudence. Haled before the Revolutionary Tribunal for examination, he was shot in open court by one of his judges — a woman member, named Rosa Schwartz. This woman, a former prostitute, was apparently under the influence of liquor. Irritated by one of the professor’s answers to a question, she drew her revolver and fired at him, killing him instantly.
74. Alexander Block (now deceased) was one of the few Russian “intellectuals” of distinction who went over to Bolshevism at the beginning of the revolution. The Twelve are twelve Red Guards, typical hoodlums, who are glorified and are compared to the twelve Apostles of Christ.
75. Zilboorg, op. cit., pg. 240-242.
76. Leo Pasvolski, “The Intelligencia under the Soviets,” Atlantic Monthly, November 1920.
77. Marx was of distinctly middle-class stock. His father was a lawyer, and Marx himself received a good education.
78. John Cournos, “A Factory of Literature,” The New Europe, 20 November, 1919.
79. Eden and Cedar Paul, Proletcult (London and New York, 1921). See also their book Creative Revolution (London and New York, 1920).
80. For these larger aspects of Bolshevik propaganda, see Paul Miliukov, Bolshevism: An International Danger (London, 1920). For Bolshevik activities in the Near and Middle East, see my book The New World of Islam, chap. IX (New York and London, 1921). For Bolshevik activities in the Far East, see A. F. Legendre, Tour d’Horizon Mondial (Paris, 1920).
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Source: Dissident Millennial