http://www.marxist.com/last-words-of-adolf-joffe.htm
The Last Words of Adolf
Joffe<http://www.marxist.com/last-words-of-adolf-joffe.htm>
Written by In Defence of Marxism Monday, 03 September 2012
[image: Print] <http://www.marxist.com/last-words-of-adolf-joffe/print.htm#>

On the 16th November 1927, scarcely ten days after the tenth anniversary of
the October Revolution, Adolf Joffe shot himself. At his bedside he left a
letter to Leon Trotsky, a translation of which we are publishing today for
our readers (1) together with a brief explanatory introduction. These are
the words of a genuine Bolshevik and victim of the Stalinist terror.

[image: Leon Trotsky and Adolf
Joffe]<http://www.marxist.com/images/stories/trotsky-joffe.jpg>Leon
Trotsky and Adolf JoffeAdolf Abramovich Joffe, though trained to be a
physician, had joined the revolutionary ranks quite early in life. He was
active in the 1905 revolution, and had his share of the prisons and exiles
of the tsar. Some time before the First World War he returned to Russia
from Austria to organise the underground distribution of Trotsky’s Vienna
Pravda, was arrested and exiled to Siberia. He was liberated only in 1917.

In 1917 he was a member of the two organisations that were directly
responsible for the October insurrection – the October Central Committee of
the Bolshevik Party, and the Military Revolutionary Committee of the
Petrograd Soviet.

After the revolution he was selected by Lenin for the most important
diplomatic posts – he led the first delegation to the peace negotiations
with the Germans at Brest Litovsk in December 1917, was ambassador to
Germany in the stormy days of 1919, signed the peace with the Poles after
the 1920 war, was delegated to the Genoa Conference in 1923, was sent to
China to win over Sun Yat Sen, the Chinese nationalist leader, and later
served as Soviet ambassador to Japan.

Joffe had been in failing health for a long time – long before the
revolution his health was slowly undermined by a hereditary nervous
disease. But that did not prevent him from active participation in the
revolution, often appearing at the front lines when necessary.

He was among the first to join the Left Opposition led by Trotsky and had
soon to pay the price for revolutionary intransigence.

For reasons explained in his letter, he chose the only way out, and as
readers may agree, he died fighting.

The letter itself has a little history of its own. When Trotsky was
informed of Joffe’s death by phone he was also told that there was a letter
for him at Joffe’s bedside. But when Trotsky rushed there, the letter was
missing. On his insistence, however, a photostat copy was handed over to
Christian Rakovsky. Even in those days Stalin’s GPU functioned quite
efficiently.

Joffe’s funeral was set for a working day. Yet 10,000 Moscow workers joined
the procession led by Trotsky, showing Stalin that the Opposition was still
not beaten. “His life, not his suicide, should serve as a model to those
who are left behind. The struggle goes on”, said Trotsky.

Joffe’s widow, Marie Mikhailovana, was then removed from her position as
editor to the State Publishing House in March 1929 after she protested
against Trotsky’s expulsion from the USSR. She had not hesitated to join
the Opposition along with her husband.

As a result, she was arrested and exiled. She was subject to prison and
then a series of labour camps from 1929 until 1957, when there was a
partial rehabilitation. It was only then that she learnt of the
“liquidation” of her only son in 1937 at the age of seventeen.

Her book, One Long Night, based upon her experiences, was published in 1978
and is available from Wellred.

The price of Stalin’s rise to power, expressed in human lives is indeed
monstrous. He did away with the entire glorious generation of
revolutionaries that made October.

Adolf Joffe was among the first victims. We publish here the last word of
that great revolutionary, whose moving personal story reflected the tragic
betrayal of the October Revolution.

---

*To Leon Trotsky,*

Dear Leon Davidovich:

All my life I have thought that the man of politics ought to know how to go
away at the right time, as an actor quits the stage, and that it is better
to go too soon than too late.

More than thirty years ago I embraced the philosophy that human life has
meaning only to the degree that, and so long as, it is lived in the service
of something infinite. For us, humanity is infinite. The rest is finite,
and to work for the rest is therefore meaningless. Even if humanity too
must have a purpose beyond itself, that purpose will appear in so remote a
future that for us humanity may be considered as an absolute infinite. It
is in this and this only that I have always seen the meaning of life. And
now, taking a glance backwards over my past, of which twenty-seven years
were spent in the ranks of our party, it seems to me that I have the right
to say that during all my conscious life I have been faithful to this
philosophy. I have lived according to this meaning of life; work and
struggle for the good of humanity. I think I have the right to say that not
a day of my life has been meaningless.

But now it seems, comes the time when my life loses its meaning, and in
consequence I feel obliged to abandon it, to bring it to an end.

For several years now the present heads of our party, in accordance with
their general policy of not giving work to Communists of the Opposition,
have given me neither political nor soviet work whose scope and character
would permit me to be useful to the maximum of my capabilities. During the
past year, as you know, the Politburo has completely cut me off, as an
Oppositionist, from any political work.

My health has kept on getting worse. About the twentieth of September, for
reasons unknown to me, the Medical Commission of the Central Committee
summoned me to an examination by specialists, who informed me categorically
that the state of my health was much worse than I supposed; and that I must
not stay another useless day in Moscow nor remain another hour without
treatment, but go abroad immediately and enter an appropriate sanatorium.

To my direct question, “What chances have I to get well abroad, and can I
take care of myself in Russia without giving up my work?” the physicians
and assistants, the practicing doctor of the Central Committee, Comrade
Abrossov, another Communist physician, and the director of the Kremlin
hospital, all answered simply that the Russian sanatoria could help me in
no way, that I must rely upon treatment in the West. They added that if I
followed their instructions, they had no doubt that I would be able to work
for a prolonged period.

For about two months the Medical Commission of the Central Committee (in
spite of having on its own initiative ordered the consultation) took no
steps either towards my stay abroad or towards my treatment here. On the
contrary, the Kremlin pharmacy, which had always delivered remedies to me
according to the prescriptions, was forbidden to do it. It was, in fact,
deprived of help of free medicines, which I had always enjoyed. I was
obliged to buy the medicines that were indispensable in the pharmacies of
the city. It seems that this took place at the time when the group in power
began to visit on the comrades of the Opposition its policy of “Hit the
Opposition in the belly.”

As long as I was well enough to work I paid little attention to all this,
but as I kept getting worse my wife approached the Medical Commission of
the Central Committee and personally Dr Semaskho, who has always, publicly,
gone to extremes to realise his formula, “Save the old guard.” The matter
was nevertheless constantly adjourned, and all that my wife was able to
obtain was an extract of the decision of the council of physicians. In this
extract my chronic maladies are enumerated, and it is set down that the
council insists on my being sent abroad “to a sanatorium of the type of
Professor Friedlander’s” for a period that may extend to one year.

Meanwhile, nine days ago I went definitely to
bed<http://www.marxist.com/last-words-of-adolf-joffe/print.htm#865605>on
account of the acuteness and the aggravation (as always happens in
such
circumstances) of all my chronic ailments, and especially the most
terrible, my inveterate polyneuritis, which has again become acute, forcing
me to endure an absolutely intolerable pain and even preventing me from
walking. For nine days I have been without any treatment, and the question
of my trip abroad has not been taken up. Not one of the physicians of the
Central Committee has come to see me. Professor Davidenko and Dr Levine,
(2) being called to my bedside, prescribed a few trifles which obviously
could do me no good, and then admitted that “nothing could be done,” and
that a trip abroad was indispensably urgent. Dr Levine told my wife that
the affair was dragging because the Medical Commission evidently thought
that my wife wanted to go with me, and “that makes it too expensive.” My
wife answered that, in spite of the sad state I was in, she decidedly did
not insist that she or anyone else accompany me. Whereupon Dr Levine
assured us that, under these conditions, the matter would soon be settled.
Dr Levine repeated to me today that the doctors could do nothing, that the
only resource was immediate departure abroad. Then in the evening the
physician of the Central Committee, Comrade Potiomkin, notified my wife
that the Medical Commission of the Central Committee had decided not to
send me abroad but to care for me in Russia. The reason was that the
specialists insisted on a prolonged treatment abroad, deemed a short stay
futile, and that the Central Committee would only give for my cure a
maximum of one thousand dollars and found it impossible to give more.

While abroad recently I received an offer guaranteeing me twenty thousand
dollars in royalties for my memoirs, but (considering that they would have
to be censored by the Politburo and) knowing how the history of the party
and of the revolution is falsified in our country, I did not consider it
possible to lend a hand to such a falsification. The entire censorship of
the Politburo would consist of not allowing a true evaluation of the
personages and their acts, either on one side or the other – either of the
authentic leaders of the revolution or of those who at present find
themselves invested with this dignity. In consequence I see no way to get
treatment without receiving money from the Central Committee, which, for
all my revolutionary work of twenty-seven years, thinks it possible to
value my life and my health at a sum not exceeding one thousand dollars.

That is why I say that the time has come when it is necessary to bring this
life to an end. I know that the general opinion of the party is opposed to
suicide, but I believe that none of those who understand my situation will
condemn me for it. If I were in good health I should have found strength
and energy to struggle against the situation created in the party. But in
my present state I cannot endure a situation in which the party silently
tolerates your exclusion from its ranks, even though I am absolutely
certain that sooner or later a crisis will come which will oblige the party
to cast off those who have led it to such a disgrace. In this sense my
death is a political protest against those who have led the party to a
situation such that it cannot react in any way to this opprobrium.

If I may be permitted to compare something big with something small, I will
say that the immensely important historical event, your exclusion and that
of Zinoviev, an exclusion which must inevitably open a period of Thermidor
in our revolution, and the fact that I am reduced, after twenty seven years
of revolutionary work at responsible posts in the party, to a situation
where I have nothing left but to put a bullet through my head – these two
facts illustrate one and the same thing – the present regime in our party.
And perhaps the two events, the little and the big one together, will jar
the party awake and halt it on the road leading to Thermidor. (3)

Dear Leon Davidovich, we are bound together by ten years of work in common
and, I hope, of personal friendship, and that gives me the right to tell
you, at the moment of farewell, what seems to me to be a weakness in you.

I have never doubted the correctness of the way you have pointed out, and
you know that for more than twenty years, ever since the “Permanent
Revolution”, I have been with you. But I have always thought that you
lacked the inflexibility, the intransigence of Lenin, his resolution to
remain at the task alone, if need be, in the road that he had marked out,
sure of a future majority, of a future recognition by all of the rightness
of that road. You have always been right politically, beginning with 1905,
and I have often told you that with my own ears I have hear Lenin admit
that in 1905 it was not he, but you, who was right. In the face of death
one does not lie, and I repeat this to you now.

But you have often renounced your right position in favour of an agreement,
a compromise, whose value you overestimated. That was wrong. I repeat:
politically you have always been in the right, and now more than ever you
are in the right. Someday the party will understand this, and history will
be forced to recognise it.

Moreover, don’t be afraid today if certain ones desert you, and especially
if the many do not come to you quickly as we all wish. You are in the
right, but the certainty of the victory of your truth lies precisely in a
strict intransigence, in the most severe rigidity, in the repudiation of
every compromise, exactly as that was always the secret of the victories of
Ilyich. (4)

I have often wanted to tell you this, and have only brought myself to it
now, at the moment of saying goodbye.

I wish you energy and courage equal to those you have always shown, and a
swift victory. I embrace you. Goodbye.

Yours, Joffe

PS. I wrote my letter during the night between the fifteenth and sixteenth,
and today, the sixteenth, Marie Mikhailovna went to the Medical Commission
to insist on their sending me abroad, if only for one or two months. They
answered her that in the opinion of the specialists a short stay abroad was
absolutely useless. They told her that the Medical Commission had decided
to transfer me to the Kremlin hospital. Thus they refuse me even a short
trip for the sake of my health, even though all the doctors agree that a
cure in Russia is of no use and will do me no good.

Goodbye, dear Leon Davidovich. Be strong, you will need to be, and
energetic, too. And bear me no grudge.

A.

*Notes*

1. The letter is based on a translation by Max Eastman and follows the 1950
LSSP edition.

2. Dr Levine was Lenin’s personal physician, who was condemned to death in
the third Moscow trial in 1938.

3. Thermidor is a regime which, while not doing away with the social gains
of the revolution to ant major degree, deprives the masses of its political
gains; an analogy with the regime that followed soon after the French
Revolution of 1789 - on 24 July 1794 to be exact – according to the new
French revolutionary calendar on the 9th of the month of Thermidor.

4. Lenin, whose full name was Vladimir Ilyich Lenin


[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]



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