CatherinePalace
Tsarskoe Selo, Russia
July 1906
Tsar Nicholas II, Supreme Autocrat of Russia, sat at his desk in the formal study of Emperor Alexander I in the Catherine Palace, which served as the official residence of the Imperial family. As he arranged the papers on his desk, he knew that he was about to violate his own rule against conducting business while the family was in residence at Tsarskoe Selo. Today had to be an exception. Nicholas had summoned the Chairman of the Council of Ministers, Count Sergei Witte, to meet with him that morning. The train from St. Petersburg would be arriving shortly.
Nicholas fidgeted in his chair. He was furious with Witte. He had agreed to Witte’s October Manifesto only to appease the revolutionaries. He thought about the situation as he waited. Surely, the count must have realized my intentions. Could the count really have believed that I would retreat from the principles of autocracy? Already I have had to remove him as prime minister, and yet he persists in his democratic principles. Now his precious Duma does nothing but spew forth inflammatory rhetoric, in spite of the fact that I can dissolve the Duma at anytime.
As he sat reflecting on the situation, he heard a knock on the door. His valet cracked the door open and announced, “Count Witte has arrived.” Nicholas ordered him to be brought in, and the giant Witte entered with a flourish. Nicholas did not look up at his guest or suggest that he sit down. “Count Witte,” he began, while he appeared to be writing. He looked up at the former prime minister and announced, “I am signing a document that proclaims the Duma dissolved, effective immediately.”
“What?” blurted out the astonished Witte. “Your Majesty, you can’t be serious! This would be a tragic mistake!”
“Watch your tone, Count Witte!” cautioned the Tsar. “I am supremely serious, and I am most certainly dissolving this joke of an organization. You know that I retain the power to do so.”
“But the October Manifesto — ”
“It is just a duplicitous document that you virtually shoved down my throat, playing on my concern over mob rule! Be assured that it was never in my thoughts to cede any royal powers of autocracy. I am astonished that you would actually think I would. Your thinking is contrary to all aristocratic thought! No, dear Count, the Duma is finished. By decree, it is dissolved today, July 8.”
Witte stammered a little, not knowing what to say. Looking directly into the eyes of his Tsar, he realized how right he always had been in his assessment of this man. What a shame, he thought to himself, that those Allied agents didn’t remove him last year. This little man in the regal-appearing uniform was going to be the agent of demise for all of Russia. “Your Majesty,” he finally began, “I don’t know if I — ”
“Count Witte,” interrupted the Tsar, “as of this moment, you are no longer the Chairman of the Council of Ministers. I have already signed the decree ordering your removal from that office. Out of deference to your past services to Russia and to my father in particular, I will allow you to remain a member of the Council of Ministers. I am also appointing Peter Stolypin as prime minister. Next year, I will allow the people to elect a new Duma if they wish. Hopefully, they will use a little more discretion and elect people who are not treasonous or unreasonable. People who realize, as they should, that my reign is a gift from God Himself.”
Standing erect, Witte responded, “Your Majesty, if you are finished with me, I’ll not take up any more of your time.”
“That would be nice. You are dismissed.”
Witte turned and walked out, livid over the indignity that he had just endured. All he could think about was Theodore Roosevelt, the American president he had met less than a year ago. If only Russia had a leader like him. If only I hadn’t interfered with the British-American plan, thought Witte. The regret would haunt him for the rest of his life.