The Revolt of 1916 in Russian Central Asia • Chapter 7

The first interpretation which may be considered is that of G. I. Broido, which is confined only to the Kirghiz and Kazakh phases of the revolt. This first‑hand observer does not see the immediate cause of the revolt, apart from the order for the conscription of workers, in the reaction of the Kirghiz to the encroachment of the Resettlement Administration and other government institutions upon their lands, though this despoliation was gone along rapidly at this time.1 The destruction and disorganization of the community through the policies (p166) of the Russian government, Broido argues, had reached such a degree by the time of the revolt that there was no opportunity for any sort of secret meeting or preparation for an uprising. p168 Any attempt to plot any kind of action would have been immediately made known to the authorities through "their" Kirghiz. Nor could the cause of the uprising have been national or religious aspirations. These were much weaker among the Kirghiz than among the Uzbeks, among whom there was no general uprising. Nor could this have been a movement of opposition to the war inasmuch as the level of political development among the Kirghiz was still at a very low level and they had no comprehension as to why the war was being fought and what were the goals of each side. Moreover the Kirghiz had asked to be taken into the army on the same terms as the Russians. In the view of Broido the uprising was deliberately provoked by the Russian administration, including the high officials of Tashkent and Verny, so that an excuse could be found to exterminate the Kirghiz and to seize their land. The great seizures of land from the Kirghiz had reached such proportions that it was only by such means that more land could be taken away from them. The deliberateness of the provocation was manifested through such acts as the clumsy and provocatory nature of the orders issued, the false expectations of the officials, the wanton acts of the Russian settlers and their organization into military units, the unpunished mass murders. All this was calculated to provoke an uprising by the Kirghiz. Once the disorders were started they were only intensified by the actions of the police and the peasant militia, making the Kirghiz look more and more like enemies in the eyes of the army sent in to repress the revolt.

This view of Broido was seconded by T. Ryskulov in an article which does not give such a detailed elaboration of this assertion as does (p167) Broido,2 though Ryskulov adds that this seized land would form a place d'armes for further penetration into Persia, China, and Afghanistan.

This theory of "provocation" is vigorously attacked by A. V. Shestakov in his article on the Revolt of 1916.3 He points out that immigration in the war years was insignificant. The authorities in the mother country were faced with such serious p169 agricultural, military, and political problems that to provoke an uprising in Central Asia would have been the height of folly. Shestakov further buttresses his argument by the following considerations: (1) In the period of classic capitalism there was no similar case of provocation in the colonies during a period of military collapse and complete military and economic disintegration in the mother country. (2) The "cotton imperialists" together with the Moscow Bourse demanded the quickest measures towards the securing of normal conditions in the cotton areas, inasmuch as at that time Turkistan was the single source of cotton and provocation would have had serious repercussions on the furnishing of adequate clothing to the army. (3) The landholders, in their search for more working hands, were recruiting "Yellow" workers from Mongolia and China, and seeking to utilize the prisoners of war and the refugees. While they sought the workers of Central Asia in addition they could have accomplished their goal by means other than the provocation of an uprising. (4) The uprising took place not only in the Kirghiz areas where herding was the dominant economic pursuit and where land seizure was at its height, but also in areas where agriculture was intensively carried on. Any sort of movement in the latter area would have menaced its economy. (5) To think that Kuropatkin knowing the country of Turkistan well, would not have taken this into consideration would be the same mistake as to suppose that Kuropatkin did not foresee the range of the revolt.

Shestakov goes on to say that the number of troops in Turkistan when the revolt began was small. To think that a provocation would be started in Turkistan at a time when conditions at the front were so (p168) critical is senseless. Shestakov then goes on to criticize writers on the Revolt of 1916 in general, saying that they took the course and characteristics of actions occurring in one part of the country and made broad generalizations applying to the country as a whole without any regard for their differing social, cultural, and economic backgrounds. Broido, in his view, is especially guilty of this practice. He witnessed the goading into revolt of the peaceful Kirghiz of one part of the Semirechie and from that deduced that this provocation occurred in all the territory.

p170 Shestakov himself sees the cause of the revolt in the opposition of the native peoples to the blood tax they were asked to pay by the Tsarist government. The talk of using them as laborers was pure camouflage. In this Turkistan differed in nothing from other colonial areas. The colonizing powers were not satisfied in looking to the colony as a source of raw materials, a market for their goods and an outlet for their surplus workers. The colony was also looked upon as a source of cannon fodder to be used in the wars of the mother country. Natives were used on the battlefield, as happened in 1914‑1918, in occupied zones and as an instrument in suppressing the class struggle conducted by the workers and peasants.

Russia already had native units fighting for it at the front (such as the Turkoman regiment). The propensity of imperialist powers to utilize their natives as cannon fodder is brought out by the inquiry of the Duma, dealt with in the last chapter, in which the exemption from service of the natives of Central Asia and the Caucasus was attacked as an abnormality. The natives who offered resistance to the labor conscription well understood in Shestakov's view that this was in reality but the first step towards being converted into soldiers.

Brainin and Shafiro4 discern the especial importance of the revolt in the fact that the workers went to work in Russia proper came into contact with the revolutionary doctrines and workers of the Bolshevik party. Among the workers who were quickly brought over to the side of the Bolsheviks a prominent part was played by those who had actively (p169) participated in the Revolt of 1916. Their suppression had only inflamed them all the more against the Tsarist regime. While Kuropatkin in one of his orders at the end of 1916 expressed the opinion that the workers dispatched for work to Russia "will return to the homeland better off than before, having been acquainted with the might and greatness of the Russian State," in reality they returned in a bellicose frame of mind, many having become Bolsheviks in the meantime. They were to play a prominent part in the seizure of power by the Soviets according to Brainin and Shafiro.

The role of the manaps or aristocracy in the revolt among the p171 Kazakhs and Kirghiz is a subject of no little controversy among the Soviet writers dealing with the subject. Miklashevsky and Shestakov assert that the manaps not only went along with the poor in the revolt but even led them. Brainin and Shafiro, and Galuzo, on the other hand, say that while there were a few individual cases of this happening, in general the manap class supported the Tsarist government. As is usually the case the truth seems to lie somewhere in between these two extreme positions. It must be said, however, that the evidence is more in favor of Shestakov and Miklashevsky than of Brainin, Shafiro, and Galuzo. The low number of native Kirghiz and Kazakh officials killed in comparison with the Russian and with the native Sart officials has already been noted in a previous chapter. In one of the official reports we find the statement, "in almost every volost the leaders of the revolt were the volost starshinas."5 Very closely tied to this question of manap participation is the subject of rod ties. Here the evidence is that rod ties still had force. When the Kazakhs, both those who worked as hired hands and those who were self-employed, heard about the order for conscription of workers they immediately threw down their work and made for their own kinship group.6 While the many changes that the Russians had brought in their train had done much to bring the disintegration of the old tribal order, in times of misfortune the latter still had force.

(p170) One point almost all the Soviet writers mention — that the revolt was of great significance in preparing the people for their part in the Bolshevik Revolution soon to come. They readily admit that this was a nationalist-religious movement and not one of the proletariat pursuing class-conscious goals. Nevertheless this was a "progressive" movement in their view. In its progress it hastened the cleavage between the rich and the poor. It showed the latter the true nature of the wealthy class and of its adherence to the reactionary Tsarist government, especially among the Sarts. The revolt laid the groundwork for the participation of the poor in the Bolshevik Revolution p172 on the side of the Communists. The revolt not only hastened the morcellement taking place between the wealthy and poor segments of society but the struggle against the Tsarist forces per se brought great profit to the poor in fitting them for their future role. In the words of Lenin, "The real education of the mass can never be separated from the independent political, and especially revolutionary, struggles of the same mass. Only battle instructs the exploited class, only battle discloses to it the measure of its strength, widens its horizon, raises its capabilities, clarifies its understanding, forges its will."7

B. The Recent Soviet Interpretation

All of the preceding Soviet authors deal with the Revolt of 1916 as furthering the Bolshevik cause. They view the revolt as but a logical outcome of the repressive, cruel policies of Tsarism and that hence the people of Turkistan did right to rebel when these policies became especially unbearable as they did become just before the revolt broke out. Moreover, as has been seen, such a revolt, despite its identification with remnants of the old feudal order and the Moslem clergy, was "progressive" in that it furthered the Marxian historical process by aligning the poor against the rich and striking the first blow against Tsarism prior to the February revolution. Such an interpretation of (p171) the Revolt of 1916, the Andijan uprising, and struggles of native peoples against Tsarism in other parts of the Russian Empire, such as the struggle of Sheik Shamil in Dagestan from 1834 to 1859, fitted in well with the historical fashion among Soviet historians after the Bolshevik Revolution of painting Russia's past under the Tsars in the darkest hues. A sharp black-and‑white contrast with Russia's new life under Communism was the order of the day among Soviet historians. This denigration of Russia's past was vigorously promoted by the eminent Marxist historian, M. N. Pokrovsky, who, through official favor, was able to enforce his views upon his colleagues and rule the Russian historical profession with an iron hand.8 p173 With Pokrovsky's death in 1932 the system of history that he had so carefully built up was at first slowly and then with a greatly stepped-up intensity subjected to criticism. In the end the views of Pokrovsky were officially condemned by the government and a totally different interpretation was given to many of the figures of and incidents of Tsarist times. Figures like Ivan the Terrible and Peter the Great were no longer to be looked upon as evil Tsars oppressing the Russian people but as great statesmen and historical figures. Minin and Pozharsky, who led the fight in 1612 against Polish intervention in Russia during the "Time of Troubles" now became great Russian patriots while the resistance to Napoleon's invasion in 1812, formerly viewed as purely an affair of the Tsarist government in which the people took no part, was now portrayed as a great and noble struggle upon the part of the Russian people against the hated foreign invader.

Part and parcel of this reinterpretation of Russian history was the new way of viewing the conquest and incorporation into the Russian Empire of such areas as the Ukraine, the Caucasus, and Central Asia. Whereas writers in the Pokrovsky era had shown a lively sympathy with any offering of resistance by the natives of these areas to the Tsarist (p172) government's encroachment and subjugation, Soviet writers, beginning in the late '30s, took a different tack with their "theory of the lesser evil" which they now evolved. Such non-Russian border areas as the three areas mentioned, so these historians now asserted, were fated to come under the rule either of Russia or of its other strong neighbors. Faced with this "either or" proposition it was to the advantage of these peoples to be incorporated into Russia rather than into the domains of their other neighbors as Russia was a "lesser evil." Russian imperialism, so these writers now asserted, dealt less harshly with the native peoples and brought more benefits and less oppression and exploitation than did the imperialism of other countries.9 Thus it was a "lesser evil" for Georgia to become absorbed by p174 Russia rather than by Turkey or Persia, who also had designs on this territory. Similarly, in the cause of the Ukraine, fated to become a part either of Poland or of Turkey or of Russia, the absorption by Russia was the least undesirable happening.

In recent years this theory of the "lesser evil" has been abandoned in favor of the interpretation that absorption by Tsarist Russia was a positive good for the native peoples bringing to them civilization and technical advancement. An article by the Tajik historian, B. Gafurov, is typical in this regard.10 Gafurov states that "the joining to Russia of Central Asia and Kazakhstan had for them a great progressive significance." Union meant not only union with the Russia of the Romanovs but with the Russia of a host of great thinkers and artists, such as Lenin, Plekhanov, and Tschaikovsky. It brought contact not only with Russian civilization but with the ideas of Marxism-Leninism. Union meant the end of the old feudal patriarchal economy; the setting up of industrial enterprises and the expansion in internal and external trade followed in the wake of Russian arms. Union meant the end of the slave trade in Central Asia and the end of internecine strife. The final point made by Gafurov is that if Central Asia and Kazakhstan had (p173) not been incorporated into Russia they would have become colonies of English imperialism and would have shared the same fate as the peoples of India.

A corollary of this new characterization of the Russian absorption of non-Russian peoples is the new way of interpreting national movements of these peoples under the Tsarist regime. Whereas in the Pokrovsky era these movements were usually characterized as being "progressive" now some movements are praised as being "progressive" while others are condemned as being "reactionary." The Andijan uprising of 1898 and Revolt of 1916 in its Turkoman phase fall into this latter category. "Lenin and Stalin declared," states one article dealing with the Andijan uprising, "that there are national movements that are progressive and liberating and those that are reactionary."11 While the author does p175 not go on to give any general rule as to how one may tell whether a particular national movement is "reactionary" or "progressive," it becomes abundantly clear from the reasoning used in classifying specific revolts as either reactionary or progressive in this and other articles what criteria are used. National movements that were directed not only against Russian Tsarist officials but the Russians as such (settlers, merchants, etc.) are condemned as being "reactionary" while those directed against the native "exploiter" class — the aristocracy, merchants, and landlords — and not at the Russians as such are termed "progressive" and of a genuine revolutionary nature. In giving examples of the latter type of national movement B. Gafurov declares: "Of a genuine revolutionary, national-liberating nature were many of the uprisings against the Emir of Bukhara after the revolution of 1905‑1907 in the mountainous sections of the Kuljab, Boldjuan, and Kurgan-Tyubin bekdoms."12

Examples of "reactionary uprisings" are: the Revolt of 1916, in the area of Turkmenia and Tadjikistan, the Andijan uprising, and the uprising of the Kazakhs under Sultan Kenesary Kasymov (1837‑1846). It (p174) is significant that these uprisings were directed against the Russians in the main and not primarily against the native officials.

As for the Revolt of 1916 itself the great attention recently among Soviet historians has been concentrated upon the Turkoman phase though it is safe to conjecture that the new interpretation of national uprising will be applied soon to the other phases of the revolt. Probably the most detailed elaboration thus far of the Turkoman phase is contained in an article in the September 1951 issue of Voprosi istorii.13 According to the author of this article the following conclusions may be drawn from the facts of the Revolt of 1916 in Turkmenia:

The author concludes by stating that the Revolt of 1916 in Turkmenia prevented the formation of a united fighting front between the Turkoman working class and the Russian working class, that the movement was anti-Russian, that the most backward Turkomans along the Persian frontier and headed by a feudal-patriarchal hierarchy (p175) took part. However, the most class-conscious part of these tribes did not participate, nor did the bulk of the Turkomans.

There is some evidence to show that the Revolt of 1916 may not be found "progressive" by Soviet writers in the future in some of its other locales, the explanation being that the revolt there took on a very different turn than among the Turkomans. An extract from the article of B. Gafurov already cited gives hint of such a possibility:

Many historians of the Central Asian republics, including Tadjikistan, affirmed categorically that the uprising of 1916 was national-liberating and progressive. Moreover, in their appraisal of the character of these uprisings many historians did not deduce this from the concrete conditions of each district of Central Asia. They did not consider the possibility that in some places the uprising broke out spontaneously and was directed not only against the Tsarist government but also against the local exploiters, while in other places they were utilized by reactionary feudal elements and fanatical clergy in their own interests. p177 These elements made the attempt to direct the uprising against the Russians everywhere under the watchword of a holy war for the faith. There are individual instances of the participation of agents of Turkey in the uprising.14

Gafurov then admits that in his book The History of the Tadjik People he likewise did not distinguish among the circumstances under which uprising broke out in the various localities in Central Asia and, moreover, gave an erroneous interpretation of the revolt, stating that it prepared the masses of Central Asia for the October Revolution.

The mention of the participation of Turkish and other foreign agents in both the Revolt of 1916 and in the Andijan uprising by recent Soviet authors is also significant as earlier Soviet writers discounted or minimized foreign influence, participation, and aid.

C. In Summing Up

The passing of a half century of Russian rule in Turkistan still found the native population living a life which was, to use the words of Hobbes, "brutish, nasty, and short." The material condition of the (p176) mass of the population had, if anything, grown worse, though the wealthy members of the native society undoubtedly benefited by the transition. Such marks of civilization as modern roads, hospitals, sanitation, etc. remained completely strange to the native peoples. Only the modern methods of exploitation disturbed the millennial torpor of the subject peoples, and only too often were only the seamy sides of Russian civilization to be noted among the natives who adopted Western life.

In truth the Russian was ill-fitted for the task of civilizing the Asian. Western culture was represented in Russia only too often by only a thin veneer of the upper classes. The remainder of the Russian population was on a cultural level which at best case was not too far above that existing among the native peoples of Asiatic Russia, while the glacial advance of Russia into Central Asia produced a commingling of peoples.15 While p178 the policy of Russia was directed in an increasing measure towards Asia, unlike England she effected no significant influence intellectually or culturally upon Asia. In the words of one authority, "The Russian Tsarist regime was itself far too Asiatic to be able to influence Asia."16

The policy of laissez faire in the cultural life of the native had proved a complete failure. The absence of control over the native religious schools preserved a hot-bed of propaganda against the Russian government. The failure to provide schools in which the natives might learn Russian preserved an obstacle preventing the latter from coming into closer contact with the Russians and from rising to superior posts in government and industry which the native legally could do. It is significant to note in this regard that one of the things the Kirghiz and Kazakhs complained about to Kuropatkin in his tour of the country was that the great sums levied on them for education were not used, that the schools that were furnished did not give their children a (p177) knowledge of the Russian language.17 While among the Sarts the mullahs strongly opposed lay schools, a determined program by the government would have probably been attended by success.

The system of local autonomy for the natives in government also proved a failure. Except among the Turkomans Kuropatkin found general dissatisfaction among the native people in regard to their native volost heads and kazii or judges. This system of democracy below and autocracy above broke down for a number of reasons. The Russian officials were altogether too few to supervise the system properly. Their bad material condition made them susceptible to bribes and corruption while the lack of an opportunity for a career produced an attitude of frustration. The barrier of language and of different cultures was not broken, owing to the lack of lay schools teaching Russian and the Russian way of life, to the Russian government's prohibition of any proselytizing activity by the Orthodox Church, and to a disinclination on the part of too many of the Russian officials to learn the native language. The old khanate official had been arbitrary, unjust, and corrupt but at least the p179 population knew his ways as he was one of them; the official, on the other hand, knew the limit beyond which it was not wise to push his exactions, as the people might successfully revolt. The native official under Russian rule, however, had at his call the unlimited might of the Russian army in any case where the population might resist his demands. The language barrier prevented the natives from going over the heads of these officials to present their grievances to the Russians, while Russian laws were completely alien to them. The upshot of all this was that a wider gulf was created between the two peoples. As Kuropatkin was to note in his journal, "We have not moved closer but farther away from the native sedentary population in the last 30 years."18 The seam across the fabric was clearly revealed in the cold, ineluctable fact of revolt. The native population vented its discontent and dislike in attacks upon (p178) railway workers, parties of statisticians and forest guards, and on the Russian population. The latter were equally savage in their reprisals.

Of decisive importance in limiting the scope of the revolt was the question of the timing of the various outbreaks among the Kirghiz and Kazakhs, Sarts, and Turkomans. As we have already seen, the revolt among the Kazakhs and Kirghiz did not begin until the Sart uprising had been put down, while the struggle among the Turkomans did not reach its full intensity until November, that is after the revolt in Semirechie had been suppressed for the most part. Thus Kuropatkin was able to shuttle troops, thanks to the railway, between the troubled areas without ever having to cope with a synchronous revolt in all the areas of Russian Central Asia and Kazakhstan. What would have happened in the latter event is of course speculation but it is perhaps not too extravagant to say that in such an event the Russian Revolution would have begun in Turkistan and not in Petrograd, and would have begun several months earlier than it did. Nothing succeeds like success, as the saying goes, and the success which would have attended such a combined effort would have induced many waverers to throw their lot in with the insurgents. In addition there is a possibility that outside help might have been forthcoming if the p180 movement had seemed destined to succeed. Afghanistan, though neutral during the war, strongly favored the cause of the Central Powers and seemed on the point of joining them in the war. A revolt of dimensions larger than that which occurred in Central Asia might well have been enough to tip the balance in favor of war and intervention in Turkistan. In such an event the khanate of Bukhara might have been forced to join in the movement against the Russians, owing to its geographical position in between Afghanistan and the areas of the revolt.

The revolt revealed the complete antipathy between the nomads and the Sarts. The shows of resistance of each of these peoples took place in a vacuum with no coordination or cooperation between them. The ways of these two basic modes of living were too incompatible to (p179) be bridged even in time of disaster and tribulation.19 An indication of this hostility is served by the case of the events in Przhevalsk uezd. Here many Uzbek merchants carried on their trade and represented a large element in the towns of the uezd. Not only did these people show no sympathy with the rebellion but in some cases even stood against the insurgents.

The absence of a powerful pen to stir the forces of national liberation is all too clearly seen if we make a comparison with the history of Central Europe. In Turkistan there was no František Palacky to write a Geschichte von Böhmen and reveal to the people its history where before there had only been vague legends, and thus to create a feeling of historic oneness and prepare the ground for insurgent nationalism. Nor was there a Johann Gottlieb Fichte to deliver any Reden an die Deutsche Nation and thus stir the people to rise from beneath the heel of the invader and oppressor and free itself.

The lack of leadership was likewise a serious deficiency. Not only was there no person who could secure support from all areas of the country and from all peoples, but there was no leader who commanded the allegiance of even one oblast or people. Some names, like Kanaat Abukin, stand out, but these p181 leaders extended their influence over only rather limited areas. There was no one to personify the revolt as Madali had done in the revolt in Andijan in 1898. Turkistan would have to wait five years for its Enver Pasha and his dream of a vast Pan-Turanian Empire. By then the opportunity had passed. Everyone was sick of the fighting and bloodshed and wanted to settle down to a period of peace and recovery.

The Revolt of 1916 was brutally suppressed by the Russians, but the old grievances remained. Though Kuropatkin removed some of the more crying abuses the basic situation remained as before. These (p180) grievances were to exist into the Bolshevik Revolution and it was only after a long and hard fight, with much native bloodshed, that they were partially removed. The characteristics associated with the Revolt of 1916 were to reappear again and again. The Basmachi movement was to flare up anew while a new battle was to be fought under the leadership of Enver Pasha. The hatred between the Russian and the Moslem was to be flagrantly manifested after the overthrow of the Provisional Government when the local Bolsheviks allowed to the Moslems only two seats out of the seven on the Executive Committee despite the fact that they made up 95 percent of the population, while the Sovnarkom or Council of People's Commissars was made up entirely of Russians. When the natives convened assemblies to rectify this situation the Bolsheviks used this as a pretext for a savage repression of the native population, during which the city of Kokand was laid waste and thousands of natives slaughtered.20 A special commission had to be dispatched from Moscow headed by Broido to ease the situation. Though the natives were given a little more in the way of equality a great deal more still remained to be accomplished. Nor were other grievances removed. The Soviets did not stop Russian immigration into Turkistan and the proportion of Russians in the country only increased. The plans to make cotton the dominant crop of the country received new impetus and the native was placed even more in dependence upon his food supply from the outside.21

p182 These are but some of the tendencies which had underlain the Revolt of 1916 and which continued after its suppression. To show in detail how the revolt reacted upon future events would, however, require a separate enterprise in the gathering and analysis of materials.

The Author's Notes:

1 See Broido, op. cit., p434. Grigorii Isaakovich Broido (born 1885). In 1905 he joined the Bolshevik wing of the Social Democratic Party and carried on agitation among the soldiers, editing the newspaper Soldatskaya Gazeta (Soldiers' Newspaper) in Tashkent. Broido was suspected of having a part in fomenting the revolt in Semirechie in 1916 and was arrested soon after the disorders began on orders of the Ministry of War. He was sent to Kasalinsk to the 1st Siberian rifle battalion in whose prison he remained until the first days of the February revolution. Soon after his arrest he was questioned about the causes and circumstances of the outbreak of the revolt in Semirechie and this deposition is one of the basic sources used in the present study ("Materialy k istorii vosstaniya kirghiz v 1916 g.", Novy Vostok, No. 6 [1924]). Upon his release from prison after the overthrow of the Tsarist government Broido hurried to Tashkent where he became the head of the Tashkent Soviet of Workers and Soldiers' Deputies as a Menshevik, which, together with the less radical "Turkistan Committee," made up of officials and supporters of the Provisional Government, ruled over much of Russian Central Asia. Both of these bodies were made up exclusively or almost exclusively of Russians, thereby excluding the local Moslem population.

Later Broido rejoined the Bolsheviks. In 1919 he became a member of the Revolutionary War Council of the 1st Army on the Eastern front. He took part in the organization of the Communist University of the Toilers of the East in Moscow and was its director until 1926. From 1921 to 1923 Broido was Assistant Commissar for National Affairs in the central government and from 1925 to 1927 he was director of the State Publishing Works. His works include: Natsionalno-kolonialny vopros (Moscow, 1924), Natsionalny vopros i VKP(b) (Moscow, 1925).

2 T. Ryskulov, "Iz istorii borby za osvobozhdenie vostoka (vosstanie kirghiz Turkestana protiv tsarisma v 1916 g.)," Novy vostok, no. 6 (1924).

6 Pamyatnaya zapiska o kirgizakh: "K istorii vosstaniya kirghiz v 1916 g.," op. cit., p63.

7 V. I. Lenin, Izbrannye proizvedeniya, vol. II (1935 edition), p7, "Doklad o revolyutsii 1905 g."

8 Many Soviet historians suffered from the sting of his pen and tongue. Thus his criticism led to the imprisonment and subsequent exile to Central Asia of Eugene Tarlé, now one of the most prominent Soviet historians. See A. Mazour, Modern Russian Historiography (Berkeley, 1939), p85.

9 See "On the Question of the Lesser Evil Formula; Letter to the Editors from M. Nechkina" (in Russian), Voprosi istorii, no. 4 (1951), pp44‑48.

10 B. Gafurov, "Towards a Marxist Elucidation of the History of the Tajik People and the History of Its Culture" (in Russian), Kommunist Tadzhikistana, July 26, 1951.

11 A. Khasanov, "K voprosu o kharaktere Andizhanskogo vosstaniya," Sovetskaya Kirgiziya, May 26, 1951.

13 Yu. Tarasov, "On the Character of the Movement of 1916 in Turkmenia," Voprosi istorii, no. 9 (1951), pp76‑96.

15 On this see Owen Lattimore, "Inner Asian Frontiers: Chinese and Russian Margins of Expansion," Journal of Economic History, vol. VII, no. 1 (May 1947), p28.

19 For a detailed exposition of the centrifugal forces keeping apart these two ways of life, nomad and sedentary, see Owen Lattimore, Inner Asian Frontiers of China (New York, 1940), pp469‑475, 491‑506, 511‑513; see also René Grousset, L'Empire des Steppes: Attila, Gengis-Khan, Tamerlan (Paris, 1948), pp495‑496.

20 Limitarus, "Turkestan since the Revolution," Asiatic Review, vol. XIX (Jan.‑Oct. 1923), p604‑605.

21 For a detailed survey of the economic changes effected by the Russians, see the article by Paul Henze, "The Economic Development of Soviet Central Asia to the Eve of World War II: An Examination of Soviet Methods as Applied to a Semi-Colonial Area," Journal of the Royal Central Asia Society, vol. XXXVI (July-Oct. 1949), pp278‑296, vol. XXXVII (Jan. 1950), pp28‑40.

p167 (p165) Chapter 7
The Revolt in Retrospect

The Early Soviet Interpretation of the Revolt

B. The Recent Soviet Interpretation

C. In Summing Up

The Author's Notes:

p167 (p165) Chapter 7 The Revolt in Retrospect

The Early Soviet Interpretation of the Revolt

B. The Recent Soviet Interpretation

C. In Summing Up

The Author's Notes:

p167 (p165) Chapter 7
The Revolt in Retrospect