It has been said, and not without reason, that the Polish problem is one that concerns not only the present Russia and Poland, but the future peace of all Asia and Europe. If the Bolsheviks can be checked in the West there may be an end to their designs in Persia and India. If, however through weakness, the Bolsheviks are allowed to have their way in the West, their criminal megalomania will hanker after unrealizable dreams.

As, therefore, the Polish question is one of such paramount importance, and affects Asia’s future as well as that of Europe, I think it only right that it should be examined impartially and in its true perspective.

In the year 1862 a decisive endeavour was made by Russia to bring about a real and lasting peace with Poland. Neither the provocative activities of the Polish mob, which would hardly have been tolerated for a single day by any other Government in Europe, nor the flagrantly open attempt by the Polish “Intelligentsia” to organize a rising, could throw a damper on the Emperor’s generous decision to conclude the desired peace at whatever price. Poland received in 1862 a far-reaching autonomy, the Emperor’s brother being entrusted with the duty of moulding this autonomy into complete working order. With the exception of the Marquis Veliapolsky, whose culture and profound political tact placed him on a much higher intellectual level than most of his compatriots, all contemporary Poles, without regard to their various political opinions, were united in one idea: their enmity towards Greek Orthodox Russia. Shortly before that time, indeed, Prince Gorchakoff, the then Governor-General of Poland, had remarked, not without good reason, that he could rely on nobody in the whole country, and that the “Russian Party” was non-existent. “Les uns veulent me mettre dehors—les autres veulent me mettre dedans,” he cleverly said in a joke. The Poles refused to take the friendly hand that was held out to them. Perhaps, indeed, we Russians could in one way blame only ourselves for this, since by hoping to pacify the Poles with constant concessions we only succeeded in weakening our authority; and, through our mistaken leniency, the whole of Poland and Western Russia was allowed to slip into insurrection. My brother, General Alexander Kireeff, wrote on that question exactly in those words. I heard several bitter reproaches from old Poles who had taken part in the rising of 1830. They foresaw that our liberality could lead to no good but would only encourage the people to rebel openly, trusting in our weakness, and so oblige us in the end to take, in self- defence, severe measures. This prediction was completely fulfilled. In that sad and troublous time I had many opportunities of discussing the situation with Poles of the most varied views and social positions. With the exception of two or three adherents to the wise policy and ideas of the Marquis Veliapolsky, they all unwaveringly refused to consider any of our concessions unless those should include the annexation by Poland of Russia’s Western borderlands. It once fell to me, in the course of my official duties, to travel from Warsaw to Gatchina with the Archbishop Felinsky, who was taking part in the rising on the side of the “Whites” (the moderates). My fellow-traveller spoke Russian excellently, but refused to converse in this language, and our discussions were therefore conducted in French. I remarked that the Russian Government had made such great concessions that it was impossible to go any further, and that the Poles ought to accept these concessions instead of continuing to dream of the Western border.

“Of course,” answered the Archbishop meditatively, “the concessions are certainly such that no government could motu proprio go beyond them.”

“But, then, for Heaven’s sake accept them!” I exclaimed.

“Never!” he answered sharply. “This may seem illogical, but the Polish people act much more under the influence of their hearts than of their heads.”

To my observation that this argument denies the Polish people the possession of any reasonable judgment, Archbishop retorted:

“That may be, but I nevertheless maintain that as long as there remains in your Western provinces a single Pole who desires to be united to Poland, there will be no peace.”

I made a note of this conversation at the time, and it has often returned to my mind, together with the conviction that the words of the Archbishop on that occasion, now long past, very accurately reflected the ideas of his fellow-countrymen.¹

Many years have passed since then. All that was said and demanded in the years 1862-63 was naturally uttered under the stress of the emotions of that time, and it would therefore be unjust to hold up as a reproach to the Poles all the passionate words that were then spoken. But even now, when passions should have cooled down, and when a new generation has sprung up, we often come across the old arguments that formed the catchwords of the old rebellion. I repeat: ask any Pole to-day whether he is ready to live at peace with us on condition that he remains within his ethnographical boundaries. Would he feel quite happy and satisfied with his former German and Austrian provinces, which actually constituted the Polish kingdom? Would he renounce all hope of subjugating to his rule many millions of Russians, Lithuanians, and Letts, who inhabit the nine Western provinces? His answer will invariably be in the negative, though he may sometimes add that he himself would have nothing against giving such an agreement, but that he could never impose it on any of his countrymen who are of a different opinion. Such an answer is the key to the Polish question. Nevertheless it would be quite incorrect to suppose that good feelings between Russians and Poles can never exist—on the contrary, they have often fought, and fought brilliantly, in Russian armies, and if they sympathized with our success how can we forget that. We can never go beyond the granting of autonomy to Poland within her ethnographical boundaries. We sometimes have to love people not only because of their qualities but in spite of their shortcomings, don’t we? Otherwise we should be acting in contradiction to our own Pan-Slavist principles; and Poles entertaining such fantastic dreams are thus becoming the bitterest enemies of Pan-Slavism. Still, we Russians do not forget that the Poles are Slavs, that they are courageous by nature, that they are talented. Many among them fought in the Russian armies against Germany, and being Christians were faithful to their Russian oath. However, they are wrong in one respect, as my country no doubt may be wrong in others. The mistake and the misfortune of the Poles is their foolish greed for acquisition, for seizing territories which will never belong to them and will never be given up by the Russians. Instead of being grateful and happy that the three Polish provinces have once more been united within their historical and legal limits, they even now quite lately began to show their hatred for the Greek Orthodox Church by trying to close and demolish our churches in Poland at the first opportunity. They also openly expressed their determination to seize Volhynia, Smolensk and Kieff—the very heart of Russia. Had that Polish attempt succeeded, it would have meant a death struggle between the two sisters of the Slav family. So what we wish for Poland with all our heart, is not only complete success over the diabolical Bolsheviks, but wisdom and moderation. In conclusion, let me cite General Denikin’s beautiful and noble letter quoted in The Times of Friday, August 27. “I consider it inevitable,” says the General, “and absolutely necessary to fight the Bolsheviks till they are completely defeated.² Otherwise not only Russia but the whole of Europe will be in ruins.” These views, undoubtedly, are shared by General Vrangel, and have been equally firmly expressed by both.

1. My brother’s letter, alas! turns out to be very true.
2. Meantime, as I write, the Bolsheviks are announcing an “Oriental Congress” at Baku!