Preface
The Makhnovist movement (popularly and semi-pejoratively referred to as the makhnovshchina) was a relatively short-lived peasant and industrial worker anarchist insurgency in Ukraine that existed from 1917-1921. The popular history of the Makhnovist movement is lacking, which has led to the claim that the Makhnovist movement constituted, in fact, a centralized state with a centralized military in complete contradiction with anarchist theory. This idea serves the defeatist, statist narrative that bottom-up control of society by the working masses is a pleasant idea, but ultimately impossible. Adherence to this narrative justifies the utmost centralization and makes true revolution impossible. A deeper look into the organisation of the makhnovskoe dvizhenie reveals its flawed, yet deeply libertarian character.
Free Soviets and Communes
The February Revolution established soviets (councils), which delegates were elected to by the workers to handle organisational and administrative matters. These delegates were recallable, as a mechanism to keep them accountable to those they represented. Like the Bolsheviks, the Makhnovist movement established soviets as well as communes. According to historian Michael Malet, “… the peasants heard about the idea as anarchist propagandists spread it into the villages … They respected and admired Makhno, and were quite willing to go along with his ideas, which, being based on local units such as the village, made sense to them.”1 And according to Voline, an influential anarchist participant in the Makhnovist movement, “… the communes arose from the workers themselves … The Makhnovist partisans never exerted any pressure on the peasants, confining themselves to propagating the idea of free communes. The latter were formed on the initiative of the poor peasants themselves.”2 The Makhnovist soviets differed significantly from the Bolshevik soviets. As Malet notes, “… for the insurgents the Soviets were the vital base of their ideal society, for the Bolsheviks they became increasingly cyphers covering party rule.”3 This difference can be further seen in Nestor Makhno’s account of his meeting with Lenin in 1918:
“‘… all power, in all areas of life, must be identified with the consciousness and will of the working people. The peasants understand that the soviets of workers and peasants … are neither more nor less than the means of revolutionary organisation and economic self-management of working people in the struggle against the bourgeoisie …’
…. ‘Well, then, the peasants of your region are infected with anarchism!’”4
Makhno essentially states that power must rest with the toilers, and that the soviets are their organ of self-management to make decisions and coordinate action on a local level. Lenin’s dismisses this; a startling admission for someone claiming to represent the workers and peasants. The Makhnovists later published a pamphlet articulating their conception of the soviets in further detail: “… the Soviets should be absolutely independent of all political parties; they should be part of a general economic system based on social equality, their members should be real workers, should serve the interests of the working masses and obey only their will …”5 Malet notes that the exclusion of parties was not the same as banning them;6 It was a given that toilers from different political parties were free to participate in and be elected to the free soviets. Regarding the communes, Voline states that they were created “… for the purpose of providing the necessities of life for the working people.”7 The communes were to handle labor and distribution of resources for and by the people in the commune. Voline compared the Bolshevik equivalent unfavorably: “[They] did nothing but waste grain and ruin the land … they lived off the labour of the people while pretending to teach them to work.”8
The free soviets and communes were intended as the organs of local self-governance, but we should appraise how they actually functioned. According to historian Colin Darch, as news of Kornilov’s counter-revolutionary coup spread, Makhno seized “seized deeds and certificates of ownership from landowners and kulaki [(rich peasants)] …”9 What to do with this was to be determined by the peasants: “[a]t a meeting of the local soviet, the peasants decided that the listed land and livestock should be divided equally, and kulaki and pomeshchiki [(landowners)] should be permitted to keep a share.”10 Soon thereafter, according to historian Michael Palij, at the recommendation of the Petrograd Soviet, the local soviet “… organised a Committee for the Defense of the Revolution … the committee decided to disarm all the bourgeoisie …as well as ‘to expropriate its rights to the people’s wealth …’”11 This is sufficient to demonstrate the basic idea of the free soviet as the organising mechanism of the toilers to drive forward the revolution.
We shall now examine the operation of the free communes. Palij notes that soon after, “[s]ome of the idealists among the anarchists formed a number of free agricultural communes consisting of volunteer peasants and workers where an elected committee of elders would allot the work alongside their fellow farmers.”12 This supports Voline’s general characterization of the communes: “They were based on real material mutual aid and on the principle of equality. Everyone … had to work, each to the extent of his ability. The organising functions were confided to comrades who could fulfil them adequately. Their task accomplished, these comrades rejoined the common work … These, sound, serious principles were due to the fact that the communes arose from the workers themselves …”13 For more detail on what the work looked like, Darch refers to Makhno’s account due to a lack of other sources: “Work in the fields, as well as such domestic tasks as preparing and cooking meals, was undertaken communally, but Makhno claims that individuals could absent themselves whenever they wanted, provided that they informed their ‘nearest workmates’.”14 Ultimately, the communes were self-organised: members delegated the task of organising to those they trusted, and all members worked together in service to the collective good. The attitude of the communes can be summed up by the resolution of one peasant congress: “… land belongs to no one, and only those who work it may use it.”15
Now that we understand how the free soviets and communes operated in more detail, it is necessary to establish how prevalent they were. These organs could only be fully implemented during “periods of relative peace and territorial stability, as in the spring of 1919.”16Voline offers us a more specific time frame: “… from December 1918 to June 1919, the peasants of Gulai-Polya lived without any political power … they created new forms of social organisation: free workers’ communes and Soviets.”17 Anarchist historian Alexandre Skirda gives us an idea of the scale involved: “The largest of these communes … housed 40 families as of May 1919. By May 1st it was to boast a population of 285 (adults and children) and would have 125 hectares under crops.”18 After the free soviets had been destroyed by the Red Army, Malet notes that “[t]here was a brief revival of free Soviets in the short peace of October-November 1920.”19
The Regional Congress of Peasants, Workers, and Insurgents
The Regional Congress gives off the impression of statism, not helped by how historians tend to characterise it: Skirda stated it was the “supreme authority of the movement”,20 and Darch claims it was the “highest form of democratic authority in the political system of the Makhno movement”.21 Already anarchists reading this may be instinctively wincing at the mention of “authority” being involved in an anarchist movement.
Malet also provides a general description of the Regional Congress: “… [it] was the most democratic and representative way of deciding the questions of the day. Where the local people would directly elect their delegates to the local free soviet to deal with local matters, equally would they elect delegates to the larger bodies. The possible conflict between the federation of Soviets and such congresses did not arise.”22 The decisions made at the congress would be returned to local assemblies for implementation.23 The Regional Congress can be thought of as a “Regional Soviet”: essentially a free soviet on a larger scale, complete with the election of delegates at general assemblies24 to represent the local toilers’ positions and concerns. At the congress, these delegates would deliberate and make decisions, much like the free soviets. The key difference was in scale: the congress made decisions for the whole of the movement. However, scale does not factor into how authoritarian an organ is. Rather, the crucial factor is where any given organ’s power derives from: the party center, or the working masses?
Like with the free soviets, there existed the concern that the bottom-up nature of the congress could be undermined by party politics. Voline made clear that “[i]t was important, above all, that this congress should be different from those called by the authorities of a political party …, who would submit to the congress ready-made resolutions, destined to be adopted docilely … and imposed on the so-called delegates …”25 The Makhnovists aimed to make the congresses the genuine expression of the working masses’ chosen delegates (to the extent possible under the conditions of war). Voline expands on the specific measures taken:
“1. … The Makhnovists confined themselves to notifying the villages, organisations, etc. that they should elect and send a delegate or delegates, to a workers’ congress … Thus the population could designate and instruct their delegates in complete freedom.
2. … a representative … would explain to the delegates that the [congress’s] … deliberations and decisions would be absolutely free from all pressure …
3. … the delegates should themselves elect the board of the congress, and modify to suit themselves the agenda which was proposed to them …”26
The concern regarding the stifling nature of party politics was not unfounded. As Voline recounted, “… [the delegates] expected to see on the platform men with revolvers in their belts who would manoeuvre the delegates and make them vote for resolutions which had been prepared in advance …”27 The Makhnovists’ policies mentioned above improved the ability of the elected delegates to freely participate in the congress and fulfill their role as true representatives of the toilers who elected them. In this way, the makhnovtsy established non-party congresses in the same vein as the non-party soviets.
However, the Regional Congress was not without flaw. Malet states that “[f]or the fourth congress, the scale of representation was to have been: one peasant or worker delegate per 3000 people, insurgents and Red Army men one delegate per unit, regiment, division, &c: plus staff and political party delegates. This was biased in favour of the military, most of whose units were less than 3000.”28 Ideally, the proportion of the delegates would be on an equal basis, or even weighted towards the purely civilian population to counterbalance the military’s obvious power.
Let us look to the Fourth Congress for examples of the type of decisions the congresses made: “The congress resolved to strengthen, organise, and prepare supplies for the army … Each new regiment was to include a staff and an economic-judicial organ …. the congress resolved to organise local free social-economic organisations and commissions … to obtain “contributions” from the bourgeoisie …. The congress recommended that the Revolutionary Military Council take strong measures against drinking, including the execution of offenders …” The Regional Congress’s decision-making scope was virtually unlimited. It could reorganise the army, decide policy and discipline, create new organisations, and more.29 But remember that the congress was made up of delegates chosen by working people. As far as these delegates could effectively represent those who had elected them, the congress was the self-organisation of the working masses in the same vein as the free soviets. This was an institution structured from the bottom-up on the basis of entrusted commission. The congress was hardly an “authority” in the anarchist sense of the term, with a self-legitimising mandate to rule over the populace, but rather, an attempt at the total inverse: the working people managing their own affairs.
Voluntary Mobilization
The Regional Congress’ policy of “voluntary mobilisation” is controversial; there remains historical debate over whether this constituted conscription. Skirda, likely the historian most favourable to the Makhnovist movement, supports the view that this was not conscription: “… it meant that an appeal was issued to the revolutionary consciences of all concerned so that they might defend their rights and freedom by force of arms, without their being obliged to do so, as was the systematic practice among the Bolsheviks, Whites and Petliurists.”30 Palij provides a relevant proclamation from Makhno: “Why are you not in our ranks? Are you waiting for a Commissar to come with a punitive detachment to take you by compulsory mobilisation? Do not deceive yourself that he will not find you, that you could hide, escape. The Bolshevik regime already proved it would stop at nothing …”31 Malet argues the mobilisation was not voluntary, but he provides contradictory evidence, the first of which comes from the Makhnovist newspaper The Road to Freedom: “Some groups have understood voluntary mobilisation as mobilisation only for those who wish to enter the Insurrectionary Army … This is not correct …. The voluntary mobilisation has been called because the peasants, workers, and insurgents themselves decided to mobilise themselves …”32 This excerpt appears damning, but Malet immediately offers evidence to the contrary: “Surviving leaflets of 1920 are in the nature of appeals to join up, not instructions … Trotski had a go at the Makhnovists on this score also: Makhno does not have general mobilisations, and indeed these would be impossible, as he lacks the necessary apparatus: but the partisan who enters the detachment is not at all free to leave. Anyone leaving voluntarily is considered a traitor and threatened with bloody vengeance …”33 1920 was a desperate year for the Makhnovists, a time when one might expect conscription to ramp up; but surviving evidence from that time was in the form of appeals. Additionally, Trotsky, then commander of the Red Army, presents a middle view: the Makhnovists did not practice conscription, because they lacked the “apparatus,” but that insurgents could not voluntarily leave. His view is likely the most accurate; there is no record of a specific mobilisation organ. Voline supports this, claiming that, “[o]nce the resolutions of this Second Congress were made known to the peasants of the region, each new town and village began to send to Gulai-Polya, en masse, new volunteers …”34 According to this, the mobilising apparatus was the local towns and villages themselves.
Furthermore, as Trotsky states, desertion was punished harshly, but these desertions were of a different character from the mass desertion of conscripts. From the book Kontrrazvedka, by Vyacheslav Azarov, punishment of desertion is only mentioned a few times: “After the Starobelsky Soviet-Makhnovist agreement … Makhno’s staff sent an order to all Makhnovist units in Ukraine to cease military activity against RKKA … Many local detachments refused to carry out this order … Desertion started from … the Special Group of the SRPU(m) … But its commander, the old insurgent Matyazh, was arrested and shot on October 16 by order of KAD …. Yatsenko and Savchenko, who issued appeals on behalf of Wrangel, were shot by order of KAD.”35 In these examples, it’s the commanders being punished; contrast this with the widespread desertion endemic to the conscript armies fielded by nearly all other forces in the civil war. Malet notes that in general, the Makhnovists tended to receive deserters from the conscript armies.36
What definitive conclusion can we draw from all this? It’s clear that the makhnovtsy strongly implored people to join the military. The local peasants most likely took on the task of mobilisation themselves, but leaving the army without permission was not allowed. The point was largely rendered moot by the fact that “… arms were scarce in the region … They had to turn away ninety per cent, of the volunteers who came to enlist.”37
Military Revolutionary Soviet
The Military Revolutionary Soviet (VRS or RVS) is another organ that appears authoritarian on its face. Historian Paul Avrich described it as such: “… the Military Revolutionary Council, acting in conjunction with the Regional Congresses and the local Soviets, in effect formed a loose-knit government …”38 However, it was similar to the Regional Congress and the free soviets as an organ made up of elected delegates, according to Skirda: “The congress finally elected a regional Military Revolutionary Soviet which became its executive organ in the interval between its sittings.”39 Later, when discussing the RVS’s “famous reply” to Dybenko, he writes: “The authors of this reply then set out how and why the Military Revolutionary Soviet with its 32 members, one delegate from each district … had come into being …”40
Voline explains its origin and purpose in detail: “As a kind of general directing body for the fight against Petlura and Denikin, to maintain and support … the economic and social relations among the workers themselves and also between them and the partisans, to take care of the needs for information and control …. It was supposed to carry out all the economic, political, social and military decisions made at the congress. It was thus, in a certain sense, the supreme executive of the whole movement. But it was not at all an authoritarian organ …It confined itself to carrying out the instructions and decisions of the congress. At any moment, it could be dissolved by the congress and cease to exist.”41 While the Regional Congress was the supreme decision-making body, the RVS was the supreme decision-executing body. This is what Voline means by “supreme executive,” which today carries the implication of unilateral decision-making. The particularities of the RVS can be further seen in its message to Dybenko: “The congress … was convened in order to lay down the future policy line for activities of the Military Revolutionary Soviet …”42 Furthermore, the agenda for the Fourth Congress read: “(a) Reports from the executive committee of the military revolutionary soviet … (d) reorganisation of the regional Military Revolutionary Soviet …” The Regional Congress created the RVS, limited its activities, had it report to the congress, re-organised it, and could dissolve it. The RVS made decisions on how to implement policy, which is why the congress needed to hold the RVS accountable. The RVS was undoubtedly powerful, but it could only be considered authoritarian if it strayed from the mandate of the Regional Congress.
A Bolshevik official named Yefimov weighed in on the nature of the RVS’s power: “There was no central organ of government: there was only the Military Revolutionary Soviet which was at once a sort of parliament and central military agency dealing with both military and civil matters. This agency had a wide range of functions, but in performing these, it presented itself only as steering body and had no rights of its own, all power being vested in the local organs. Everything boiled down to each village and each district directing itself with complete independence. Nevertheless, the structure of this illusory power was along soviet lines: there were executive committees, soviets of deputies, where elected individuals would come together and grapple with various, though not fundamental issues.”43 Yefimov appears perturbed by the idea that the toiling masses should attempt to realise the slogan, “All power to the soviets!” This can be seen in practice around November 1919, where the RVS rendered financial assistance to the impoverished. The following testimony of an Ekaterinoslav resident was printed in a magazine: “‘We’re only an insurgent army,’ said the Military Revolutionary Soviet’s secretary … ‘We only came to defend you against violence from any authorities, be they Bolshevik or Denikinist. The rest is up to yourselves, up to your own actions. Organise yourselves as you wish!’ The Military Revolutionary Soviet expressed the same viewpoint in an appeal to the populace to summon a conference that would take charge of the running of the city.”44 While the RVS and the makhnovtsy in general understood that they would need to organise defense and provide the basis for self-organisation, they invited the toilers to take over local affairs as soon as possible. We can see that the RVS was more than a mere advisory board, but it also attempted to reduce itself to that position as soon as possible to allow workers’ self-governance to flourish.
Revolutionary Insurgent Army of Ukraine
The Revolutionary Insurgent Army of Ukraine (RIAU), numbering around 40,000 insurgents at its peak,45 is the most obviously centralised organ, with commanders and a chain of command. It was also fundamentally a federal democratic peasant (“rural proletarian”46) army. Despite the tribulations of war, the Insurgent Army never lost its class character, according to Malet: “We should not forget the bond of common origin between rank and file and leadership … They greatly lessened the need for the iron discipline necessary to weld together the disparate elements of the Red Army … [The RIAU] was a proletarian army at all levels, unlike the Red Army, where it can hardly be said that the proletarian element predominated at a senior level.”47 Voline describes its federative formation: “… Makhno became the rallying point for all the insurgents [in his region] … Many detachments of partisans … joined his groups seeking co-ordinated action. The need for unity and activity on a general scale was recognised by all the revolutionary partisans … In this way the unification of the detached units of partisans in the southern Ukraine into a single insurrectionary army under Makhno’s supreme command came about naturally, through the force of events and the will of the masses.”48 This federal union was still a hierarchical one: “Although the commanders had local initiative, in over-all operations they were subordinated to the main staff of the partisan detachments of Bat’ko Makhno and to Makhno directly.”49
Peter Arshinov, influential anarchist and Makhno’s mentor, laid out the following principles the Insurgent Army operated on:“… voluntary enlistment, the electoral principle, and self-discipline. Voluntary enlistment meant that the army was composed only of revolutionary fighters who entered it of their own free will. The electoral principle meant that the commanders of all the units of the army … were either elected or accepted by the insurgents … Self-discipline meant that all the rules of discipline were drawn up by commissions of insurgents, then approved by general assemblies of the various units; once approved, they had to be rigorously observed on the individual responsibility of each insurgent and each commander.”50
Each of these principles is worthy of examination. The volunteer nature of the army, at least early on, is well-documented by historians. We have also already made the argument that “voluntary mobilisation” entailed the self-mobilisation of the peasantry, but that insurgents were not free to leave the army whenever they wished. The volunteer principle of the army was made possible by the popular support the makhnovtsy enjoyed.51 This popularity allowed them to use unique tactics: “[Makhno’s] cavalry could cover from eighty to one hundred versts a day … This speed was maintained by exchanging horses with peasants …. he would strengthen his lines by summoning peasants from the villages, on foot and mounted, carrying sticks and scythes to create panic among the enemy by their number …. the partisans would disband, bury their weapons, and mingle in the villages as peaceful peasants, only to reassemble again when the enemy had passed …”52 In general, the presence of the makhnovtsy did not inspire peasant rebellions against them, as with the Red Army. In fact, the Insurgent Army was the peasant rebellion.
Voline corroborates Arshinov’s explanation of the army’s principles, but regarding the electoral principle, he adds the caveat that positions were either elected or “… accepted without reservation (if they happened to be appointed in urgent situations by the commander himself) …”53 Malet acknowledges that “[t]his reflects not only anarchist ideals, but the practice of soldiers’ and sailors’ committees in 1917 …”54 However, Trotsky rebuked this as a mere pretense: “The command staff and its closest associates are chosen by Makhno himself. It is true that commanders from platoon to regimental level are put up for the approval of the units concerned, but this is a mere formality. In case of disagreement, the final say rests with the senior command, who can appoint whom they see fit. One should add to this that the men have to accept the commanders Makhno gives them.”55 Palij expands on this criticism: “Like the commanders, [RVS] members were elected, but some were appointed by Makhno … Makhno and his top commanders made decisions without taking account of the council’s opinion, while other problems were decided by the top commanders themselves.”56 Voline, a harsh anarchist critic of Makhno in the wake of the Makhnovist movement’s defeat, pointed to the formation of a “warrior clique” around Makhno: “It lost its sense of proportion, showed contempt towards all those who were outside it, and detached itself more and more from the mass of the combatants and the working population.”57
However, Skirda defends the democratic nature of the Insurgent Army, ironically citing the Soviet historian Kubanin and Bolshevik official Yefimov: “… according to Kubanin … ‘Neither the overall command of the army nor Makhno himself truly ran the movement; they merely reflected the aspirations of the mass, acting as its ideological and technical agents.’ Yefimov is of much the same opinion; the detachments as a rule had every confidence in their elected commanders who … ‘… never reached any decision without consideration of the advice or position of the detachments … All military matters were debated in common …’ The highest positions of responsibility … were subject to rotation and were filled on a rota basis by the most capable and renowned of the insurgents.”58 We have at least one direct example of the insurgents being directly consulted on a major decision, regarding the final military alliance with the Bolsheviks: “A general assembly of insurgents was called and after lengthy deliberations came out in favor of a compact.”59 It is difficult to discern exactly how democratic the army was among these competing narratives, but it gives us something of an upper bound for its rank-and-file character. One thing is for certain, in Malet’s words: “It is difficult to see how deterioration in the operation of democracy could be avoided, given the worsening of the military situation … and, in consequence, the rarer opportunities for exercising the rights of election and control.”60
Regarding the principle of self-discipline, Malet paints a strict image: “Exhortation played a large part in discipline, self-discipline being emphasised. Where this failed, shooting was common, and was carried out without fear or favour … Such decisions leave little room for democracy, but do show a measure of rather severe discipline.”61 Malet misunderstands the Insurgent Army’s conception of “self-discipline” to some degree. In this context, self-discipline means the self-discipline of the army. As established earlier, the army collectively decided upon the disciplinary rules, and then strictly enforced them. The rules the insurgents agreed upon arose out of the army’s class character: “Another commentator, Lebeds, took the line that: ‘ … Makhno and the Military Revolutionary Soviet strove to preserve the army’s ‘popular insurgent saintliness’; insurgents were shot for looting; and it was forbidden to ‘seize goods, seize flour from mills or change horses in the absence of the peasants …’”62
What should we make of the Insurgent Army? It was definitely an army made up of the working masses at every level; one that maintained a mostly respectful relationship with local civilians. There was a libertarian element, though it was likely eventually compromised due to the needs of warfare. It could be compared to the early worker militias of the Red Army, before the latter was centralised. By comparison, the Insurgent Army’s insistence on voluntary enlistment, elective command, and self-discipline, appears almost shocking. Taken altogether, we have a picture of an army with democratic aspirations; but still, it was an army, with all the power and possibility for abuse that implies. The authors of the “Organisational Platform of the General Union of Anarchists” addressed the concept of an “anarchist army” well: “While the revolutionary army must of necessity be structured in accordance with specifically anarchist principles, it should not be regarded as a point of principle. It is merely the consequence of military strategy in the revolution, a strategic measure which the process of civil war will inevitably force the workers to take.”63 Though an army may be necessary, it is necessarily evil, a point which Voline articulated well: “… even a free and popular army, composed of volunteers and dedicated to the defence of a noble cause, is by its very nature a danger. Once it becomes permanent, it inevitably detaches itself from the people and the world of labour … it becomes a collection of idlers … who acquire also a taste … for the use of brute force even in cases where recourse to such means is contrary to the very cause it purports to defend … It is in this way that all armies which have become permanent have tended in the last resort to become instruments of injustice and oppression. They end by forgetting their original purposes and come to feel that they are ends in themselves.”64 A workers’ army inevitably poses a contradiction between accountability to those it serves and military effectiveness. Defending the revolution requires walking a fine line between both. Fail to be an effective fighting force, and the revolution will be snuffed out. But should the army become sufficiently detached from the working masses, it will then be counter-revolutionary. We don’t need to speculate on how this might occur. We need only look to the historical practice of all who have claimed the mantle of Lenin.
Ideinye
1 Michael Malet, Nestor Makhno in the Russian Civil War, Palgrave Macmillan UK eBooks, 1982, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-1-349-04469-6, 107.
2 Voline, Unknown Revolution: 1917–1921 (PM Press, 2019), 647.
3 Malet, Nestor Makhno in the Russian Civil War, 107.
4 Nestor Makhno, My Visit to the Kremlin (Black Cat Press, 1979).
5 Voline, Unknown Revolution, 646.
6 Malet, Nestor Makhno in the Russian Civil War, 107.
7 Voline, Unknown Revolution, 647.
8 Ibid.
9 Colin Darch, Nestor Makhno and Rural Anarchism in Ukraine, 1917-1921 (Pluto Books, 2020), 14.
10 Ibid.
11 Michael Palij, The Anarchism of Nestor Makhno, 1918-9121. An Aspect of the Ukrainian Revolution. [Nestor Ivanovič Machno]., 1976, 71.
12 Ibid.
13 Voline, Unknown Revolution, 647.
14 Darch, Nestor Makhno and Rural Anarchism in Ukraine, 18.
15 Alexandre Skirda, Nestor Makhno—Anarchy’s Cossack: The Struggle for Free Soviets in the Ukraine 1917-1921 (AK Press, 2004), 86.
16 Malet, Nestor Makhno in the Russian Civil War, 107.
17 Voline, Unknown Revolution, 646.
18 Skirda, Nestor Makhno—Anarchy’s Cossack, 86.
19 Malet, Nestor Makhno in the Russian Civil War, 108.
20 Skirda, Nestor Makhno—Anarchy’s Cossack, 299.
21 Darch, Nestor Makhno and Rural Anarchism in Ukraine, 18.
22 Malet, Nestor Makhno in the Russian Civil War, 108-109.
23 Darch, Nestor Makhno and Rural Anarchism in Ukraine, 40.
24 Skirda, Nestor Makhno—Anarchy’s Cossack, 112.
25 Voline, Unknown Revolution, 710.
26 Ibid., 710-711.
27 Ibid., 713.
28 Malet, Nestor Makhno in the Russian Civil War, 109.
29 Palij, The Anarchism of Nestor Makhno, 196-198.
30 Skirda, Nestor Makhno—Anarchy’s Cossack, 154.
31 Palij, The Anarchism of Nestor Makhno, 197.
32 Malet, Nestor Makhno in the Russian Civil War, 105.
33 Ibid., 105-106.
34 Voline, Unknown Revolution, 717.
35 Vyacheslav Azarov and Malcolm Archibald, Kontrrazvedka: The Story of the Makhnovist Intelligence Service (2008), 43.
36 Malet, Nestor Makhno in the Russian Civil War, 94.
37 Voline, Unknown Revolution, 650.
38 Paul Avrich, Anarchist Portraits (Princeton University Press, 1988), 114.
39 Skirda, Nestor Makhno—Anarchy’s Cossack, 87.
40 Ibid., 94.
41 Voline, Unknown Revolution, 649-650.
42 Skirda, Nestor Makhno—Anarchy’s Cossack, 94.
43 Ibid., 333.
44 Ibid., 157-158.
45 Palij, The Anarchism of Nestor Makhno, 112.
46 Skirda, Nestor Makhno—Anarchy’s Cossack, 310.
47 Malet, Nestor Makhno in the Russian Civil War, 102-103.
48 Voline, Unknown Revolution, 634.
49 Palij, The Anarchism of Nestor Makhno, 106.
50 Petr Arshinov, History of the Makhnovist Movement, (1918-1921) (Freedom Press (CA), 1987), 70.
51 Palij, The Anarchism of Nestor Makhno, 115.
52 Ibid., 113.
53 Voline, Unknown Revolution, 656.
54 Malet, Nestor Makhno in the Russian Civil War, 101.
55 Ibid.
56 Palij, The Anarchism of Nestor Makhno, 109.
57 Voline, Unknown Revolution, 789.
58 Skirda, Nestor Makhno—Anarchy’s Cossack, 314.
59 Ibid., 194.
60 Malet, Nestor Makhno in the Russian Civil War, 101-102.
61 Ibid., 102.
62 Skirda, Nestor Makhno—Anarchy’s Cossack, 336.
63 Dielo Trouda Group, Organisational Platform of the General Union of Anarchists (Draft), 2015.
64 Voline, Unknown Revolution, 785-786.
