Sokolov, who was himself a Right SR, thought that the root of his comrades’ passivity was their metamorphosis from an underground group of revolutionaries into the leaders of the Provisional Government. This is surely right. Their adopted sense of responsibility for the state (and no doubt a little pride in their new ministerial status) led the Right SRs to reject their old terrorist ways of revolutionary struggle and depend exclusively on parliamentary methods. It was this that had tied them to the Kadets and held them back from forming a purely Soviet government in 1917. ‘We must proceed by legal means alone,’ was how Sokolov characterized their thinking, ‘we must defend the law by the only means permissible to the people’s representatives, by parliamentary means.’ They were doubtless sincere and held a deep conviction that, by refusing to fight the Bolsheviks using Bolshevik methods, they were saving Russia from the traumas of a civil war. Mark Vishniak, the Right SR and Secretary of the Constituent Assembly, later acknowledged that their hands had been tied by their own insistence on the need to avoid a civil war at all costs. But there was also a large dose of foolish vanity in all this. The Right SRs were hypnotized by the ‘sanctity’ and the ‘dignity’ of the Constituent Assembly, the first democratic parliament in the history of Russia, and by the ‘honour’ which this bestowed upon them as its representatives. Carried away by such ideals, they deluded themselves into believing that Russia was firmly set on the same democratic path as England or America, and that the ‘will of the people’ was alone enough to defend its democratic institutions. They placed so much faith in their own democratic methods that they failed to see how the Bolsheviks’ undemocratic methods could succeed in the long run.59
Yet it was more than a problem of methods: the faith of the Right SRs in ‘the people’ was itself misplaced. There was no mass reaction to the closure of the Constituent Assembly. The demonstration of 5 January was much smaller and more middle-class than the Right SRs had hoped. Sokolov thought that the dominant mood in the capital was one of passivity. After nearly a year of political conflict, none of which had reversed the economic crisis, people could be excused for a cynical indifference towards politics and politicians. More pressing concerns, such as the daily hunt for food and fuel, occupied most people for most of the time. Even Gorky — a political animal if ever there was one — succumbed to the general mood. On 26 January he wrote to Ekaterina:
We are living here as the captives of the ‘Bolsheviks’, as the French call Lenin’s venerable henchmen. Life is not much fun! And it’s highly annoying, but what can we the people do? There is nothing we can do. ‘He who survives will be saved.’ We survived the Romanov autocracy, perhaps we’ll survive Ul’ianov’s. Life has become comic — and tragic. Don’t laugh! Novaia zhizn’ looks like going under. My mood is foul, added to which I am feeling bad physically. There are days when I wake up and don’t even want to work. I don’t seem to want anything any more, and am paralysed by apathy, which is totally alien to me.60