Khortiza, October 19, 1919

For some time I have been writing the notes of my diary in the French language. It is getting to be very dangerous. Makhno has given orders to his spies to do away, pitilessly, with everyone who has hostile opinions about him. In order to excuse their own cruelty before us, the bandits bring all kinds of invented stories into circulation. Today our so-called commander came home—well, it is their home now more than ours—and worked himself into a state of great excitement. He told us with satisfaction, that many of the colonists had been hanged.

I had to hold back in order not to burst into exclamations such as “Murderers!” I only asked, “Why?”

He then related this story, pretending to believe what he was telling. A hostile detachment had succeeded in passing over the great bridge, and at once the settlers of that village had shown their sympathetic attitude by shooting from the houses upon the Anarchists. The attack, he said, had been repulsed, but the hatred of the troops against all colonists had after this event visibly increased. He then, confidentially, and as a pretense—told me that the commanders had had a hard time to dissuade the troops from taking revenge on all the colonist villages.

I tried to converse with them about this report, sitting amongst those lousy fellows and talking to them. They listened, indeed. But in vain I tried to prove the improbability of our general hostile attitude toward themselves. Probably, in their hearts, they knew that it was humanly impossible to vindicate their argument. I explained that the colonists, in regard to this battle remained neutral. It would be unwise for them to take another attitude, and therefore it was unthinkable for them to do so.

“Surely it is foolish,” he said, “but nevertheless it is the truth.” This case did actually happen. I was told about it by the commander himself who has taken and executed the “traitors.”

Being cautious, I did not dare to disprove his arguments any longer and gave the conversation another direction. I made believe that I considered them seriously as a political party, and asked for information in regard to their organization.

“What is your opinion about anarchism?” I began to ask in the way Russians do. It is their manner to start with a distant question. Then they dwell on details, illustrating them from all sides.

A few of them shrugged their shoulders as though to say: “The devil knows, we don’t.”

The commander, however, anxious not to lose credit in my eyes, apologized, “Why, we are enemies of the Whites, the old officers with the golden shoulder straps. We fight just the same against Bolsheviks who have betrayed our freedom!”

“You, thus, fight for the idea of freedom?” I asked naively.

“Yes, sure!” he became reassured; “there shall be no political dominations anymore.”

“What is the meaning of that?” I continued to ask.

“Our Father Makhno can explain it better to you than I can.” Then he produced from his pocket a printed sheet of paper which served him, as I saw from the cuts, for cigarette paper. He asked me to read it since he was poor at reading. I now got the vision of former times when I saw them sitting around and listening.

There it was: no State favor should exist any longer. Nobody should rule and nobody be ruled. Each man was to live according to his insight and act according to his conscience. The formation of co-operative organizations would be allowed. For the rest, however, there should be absolute freedom.

Here I stopped for a short remark; “Are you convinced that you always act according to these principles?”

“Sure enough,” there came an energetic voice. “There are no rulers with us, we all are equal.” “Is that so?” another exclaimed ironically. “There, look upon our chief. He is just a little man; but does he not give us orders? And I tell you, the thirst for power possesses all our commanders.” “Who elected them?” the leader triumphed. “Tell me about voting,” the other cries. “When we are to vote, your friend cries out your name, and if he has the strongest voice—you are elected.” Now there arises a wild discussion. For the first time I witness how anarchy eats away the very bond which holds them together. I notice that their organization, however insufficient it may be, is being considered burdensome by these arbitrary Anarchists. There is sometimes a quarrel for whole days between them when one division is to replace another at the front-line. Finally the opposing forces have to give in, but it irritates them. They all are simple-minded people who, to be sure, wish to have all rights but no responsibilities toward others.