Rabinowitch’s notable achievement is even more impressive
given the political and intellectual climate in which he grew up. Born in
London to Russian-Jewish émigrés who fled Petrograd after the revolution, he
was raised among Mensheviks and liberal critics of Bolshevism. He remembered
that in his family’s circle, the October Revolution was seen as “a cold-blooded
coup... by a small group of Lenin’s fanatic followers." During his time in
the United States amid the McCarthy era, he was taught in ROTC to see the
Soviet Union as the personification of evil.
Rabinowitch’s research challenged the biases of his upbringing. A
pivotal 1963–64 trip to the Soviet Union led him to dispute the Western view of
1917. His 1968 dissertation, Prelude to Revolution, argued that the July Days
were a popular uprising, not a Bolshevik coup attempt, and that the Bolsheviks
initially tried to control it. This conclusion set him apart from both Cold War
orthodoxy and Stalinist doctrine.
His second book, The Bolsheviks Come to Power (1976), marked
a significant milestone in the historiography of revolution. Despite lacking
access to Soviet archives, Rabinowitch carefully reconstructed Petrograd's
political landscape by analysing newspapers, minutes, and memoirs. He
demonstrated that in 1917, the Bolshevik Party was not a secretive,
conspiratorial group, but rather a large workers’ party with deep connections
to factories, barracks, and local districts. Its internal dynamics featured
lively debate, factional fights, and broad democratic involvement. Lenin’s
April Theses and Trotsky’s leadership of the Military Revolutionary Committee
were not top-down commands but reflected the revolutionary hopes and demands of
the working class.
This work significantly challenged the anti-communist view
of October as a coup and questioned the Stalinist myth of a united party that
followed Lenin without deviation. Rabinowitch’s conclusions largely aligned
with Trotsky’s analysis in Lessons of October, a point that Soviet authorities
quickly recognised, condemning him as a “bourgeois falsifier.”
The collapse of the Soviet Union granted Rabinowitch access
to archives that had long been unavailable to him. Instead of succumbing to
cynicism, as many scholars did after 1991, he deepened his research. This led
to the publication of The Bolsheviks in Power (2007), a comprehensive analysis
of the first year of Soviet governance in Petrograd. Utilising newly accessible
party, government, and Cheka records, he depicted the enormous difficulties
faced by the revolutionary administration: economic collapse, famine, sabotage,
foreign intervention, and the breakdown of the previous state structure.
Rabinowitch’s account uncovers a political process far more
intricate and democratic than the simplified portrayals in anti-communist and
Stalinist histories. He highlights the intense debates within the Bolshevik
Party regarding the formation of the Soviet government, the dissolution of the
Constituent Assembly, the Brest-Litovsk Treaty, and the Red Terror. Additionally,
he restores the contributions of many Bolshevik leaders—such as Smilga,
Uritsky, and Volodarsky—who were later killed during Stalin’s purges and
subsequently erased from official history.
His final book, The Bolsheviks Survive: Petrograd 1919
(2026), completed just before his death, explored the remarkable endurance of
the revolution during the civil war. It represents the culmination of his
lifelong efforts to uncover the truth of one of the most significant events in
world history.
Rabinowitch’s research put him at odds with the reactionary
intellectual climate of the post-Soviet period. In Germany, where the ruling
elites have tried to downplay Nazi crimes and restore imperialist militarism,
right-wing historians like Jörg Baberowski have attempted to prevent his
lectures. Their opposition was more than academic: Rabinowitch’s work revealed
the distortions that underpin modern historical revisionism. His lectures in
Berlin and Vienna, organised by the International Students for Social Equality
and attended by hundreds, became notable political events.
During these struggles, Rabinowitch formed close
intellectual ties with members of the Trotskyist movement. He worked with
Mehring Verlag on the German editions of his books and gave interviews to the
World Socialist Web Site. This was driven not by political allegiance but by a
shared dedication to uncovering historical truth. As the WSWS obituary pointed
out, he was part of a rare generation of historians who saw history as a
science aimed at enhancing human understanding.
When Empiricism Becomes a Political Blind Spot
Rabinowitch’s work has some limitations. His empirical
approach, though highly valuable, occasionally caused him to underestimate the
broader international context of the revolution or to misread the political
reasoning behind certain decisions.
Alexander Rabinowitch’s extensive four-volume series on the
Russian Revolution represents a significant scholarly milestone. However, even
meticulous empirical research struggles with complex political issues that
cannot be fully understood through archives alone. The most notable flaw in
Rabinowitch's analysis is his handling of the Shchastny affair—Trotsky's
decision to prosecute and execute Admiral Aleksei Shchastny in June 1918. This
mistake is more than a simple misinterpretation; it signifies a fundamental
category error that exposes the limitations of relying solely on empirical data
without incorporating the Marxist theoretical framework.
Rabinowitch labels the trial a "sham" and claims
Trotsky organised it alone, possibly making it the first Soviet show trial.
Yet, this characterisation is both inaccurate and historically unsound. It
conflates revolutionary coercion with bureaucratic terror and confuses the defence
of a workers’ state with Stalinist attempts to dismantle the revolution.
Rabinowitch’s analysis of the Shchastny affair is not only flawed but also a
theoretical oversight that contradicts the very evidence he presents.
The Historical Context Rabinowitch Underestimates
By spring 1918, the Baltic
Fleet faced near-insurrection as German forces advanced following the collapse
of the Brest-Litovsk talks. Mutinous mine-layer crews and factory workers at
Obukhov were on the verge of revolt. British agents—Cromie, Lockhart,
O’Reilly—were actively encouraging counterrevolution, circulating forged
documents alleging Bolshevik plans to surrender Kronstadt and the fleet to
Germany. Rabinowitch describes this tense situation in detail but does not
incorporate it into his analysis of the Shchastny case.
Shchastny was not just a
neutral military officer. He circulated false documents accusing Bolsheviks of
treason, promoted distrust toward the Soviet government, defied orders to
relocate or scuttle the fleet, and positioned himself as a potential Bonapartist
leader within the navy. In a revolutionary context, these actions go beyond
mere administrative errors—they are political acts that could lead to severe
consequences.
Rabinowitch’s assertion that
the Shchastny trial was “possibly the first Soviet show trial” is historically
unfounded. A show trial, in the Stalinist context, involves fabricated charges,
forced confessions, predetermined verdicts, and the political suppression of
the Old Bolsheviks. The Shchastny trial does not fit this description.
Trotsky’s charges were public and political, aligned with the revolutionary
government’s need to control the armed forces during a civil war. Comparing
Trotsky’s 1918 actions to Stalin’s purges of 1936–38 ignores the critical
difference between defending a workers’ state and establishing a bureaucratic
dictatorship. This distinction is not merely semantic but is central to
20th-century revolutionary history.
Rabinowitch’s mistake arises
from a methodological flaw: he views political events as isolated
administrative incidents rather than as parts of a larger class struggle of
historical importance. He notices a trial, a formidable commissar, and an
officer being condemned. However, he overlooks the German advance, the
mutinying fleet, British agents, and the fragile state of the revolution.
Absent the dialectical approach, the deeper political significance of these
events is lost.
Trotsky openly admitted his
involvement, sharing his testimony in 'How the Revolution Armed' and later in
his 1926 Works edition. This is not indicative of someone orchestrating a “sham
trial,’ but rather of a revolutionary leader defending a political decision to
the working class. Trotsky understood that the fleet was a vital military
resource; its fall could result in German forces occupying Petrograd, and
Shchastny’s actions threatened the revolution's survival. In such a context,
revolutionary justice is concrete, representing the dictatorship of the
proletariat as it safeguards its existence.
Rabinowitch’s key point is that his own archival evidence
contradicts his conclusion. He presents records of the mine-layers' mutiny, the
Obukhov uprising, forged German documents, British intelligence efforts, the
Left SR assassination of Mirbach, and Petrograd’s near-collapse. However, he
treats the Shchastny trial as if it happened in isolation. This isn’t just an
oversight but stems from a theoretical bias: a failure to differentiate between
revolutionary coercion and bureaucratic repression.
By suggesting a link between Trotsky’s actions and Stalin’s
purges, Rabinowitch unintentionally supports the flawed idea that Stalinism was
an unavoidable result of Bolshevism. This contradicts what his research
actually shows. However, these limitations do not undermine his overall
contribution. His work offers the essential empirical basis for developing a
Marxist interpretation of the revolution.
He is survived by his wife of more than six decades, Janet
Rabinowitch, an accomplished editor who supported his work at every stage. His
death is a profound loss to the historical profession and to all those
committed to the defence of historical truth. Yet his legacy endures. As new
generations confront the crises of global capitalism, the appeal and
significance of his work will only grow.
Alexander Rabinowitch’s scholarship epitomises intellectual
honesty. Amidst an era of misinformation, he emphasised the importance of
evidence. During times of reaction, he championed the revolutionary role of the
working class. And in a world increasingly at risk of war and authoritarian
regimes, he highlighted the crucial period when humanity nearly escaped
exploitation. His work will continue to be essential for anyone studying the
Russian Revolution and for those advocating for a socialist future.
