The city greeted the congress with a cold autumn morning.
From the first hours of the day, delegations began arriving at the building where the gathering was to take place. Some arrived in small groups, while others came almost as complete delegations, accompanied by clerks and representatives of local Cossack organizations. The entrance gradually became crowded. People presented their mandates, checked the lists of participants, and asked where they should wait before the session began.
People in many different uniforms moved through the corridors.
The Ukrainian Cossacks usually stayed in separate groups. Among them were former front-line soldiers, officers, and representatives of local Cossack organizations. Some had retained elements of their old uniforms, while others were already wearing ordinary military clothing.
The Don Cossacks looked different.
Many of them remained more reserved, carefully observing what was happening around them. They had not come simply to attend another political gathering. For them, the question of the future of the Cossacks was directly connected with the fate of their lands, their forces, and the order that had existed on the Don for decades.
The Kuban delegation arrived in several groups.
Its representatives spoke among themselves at length, discussing the situation in the Kuban and how rapidly circumstances had changed since the revolution. They made no secret of their desire to preserve the independence of their region and their own Cossack traditions.
Representatives of the Terek, Orenburg, Ural, Siberian, and Transbaikal Cossack Hosts also arrived at the congress.
Some of them had travelled an enormous distance.
For the representatives of Transbaikal, the journey west had been an ordeal in itself. Railway service was operating with interruptions, trains were being delayed, and the political situation along many sections of the route was becoming increasingly unpredictable.
One of the Transbaikal delegates, standing by a window in the corridor, watched the arriving people.
His companion stood beside him.
—"I expected to see more familiar faces here."
—"I thought there would be too many familiar faces."
—"Why?"
—"Because half of the people we served with now consider themselves politicians."
His companion smiled.
—"That happens to everyone after a revolution."
—"Especially to Cossacks."
They watched the people passing by for several more seconds.
There was indeed something unusual about it.
Only recently, most of these men had been united by the army, orders, and military service. Now the old army effectively no longer existed in its previous form. Orders that had once been obeyed automatically were increasingly being discussed, challenged, or simply ignored.
The Cossack formations had also been left facing an uncertain future.
What were they supposed to do now?
Preserve their old organization?
Create new units?
Obey the local authorities?
Choose their own commanders?
And most importantly, whom were they supposed to obey if the state they had known before the revolution no longer existed in its previous form?
These questions were being discussed in almost every group.
In one of the rooms, several Don representatives were arguing about the situation of their forces.
—"First of all, we need to preserve the men."
—"We won't preserve the men without weapons."
—"Weapons won't solve anything either if there is no order."
—"And who decides what order means now?"
After the last remark, the argument fell silent for a moment.
There was no answer.
At the other end of the building, Ukrainian representatives were discussing the situation of the Cossacks in Ukraine.
One of them spread several documents across a table.
—"Our situation is different."
—"How different?"
—"Different enough that we cannot simply bring the old system here."
—"But the problems are the same for everyone."
—"Not entirely. We are already discussing national units. For you on the Don, the main issue is the army and the land."
—"And does one exclude the other?"
—"No. But the solutions will be different."
Similar conversations were taking place everywhere.
The congress was bringing together people who, until recently, might never have met one another. Now they were expected to speak on behalf of entire Cossack regions.
That was why the composition of the delegations mattered so much.
There was no single Cossack Host here.
There was no unified political program.
There was not even complete agreement on what the Cossacks should become after the revolution.
There were different lands, different traditions, and different interests.
But there was also a common problem.
The old system was disappearing faster than a new one could emerge.
Among the arriving delegates was also Pyotr Krasnov.
He had come with the Don delegation and spent most of his time slightly apart from the general commotion. Many of those present knew him, especially among the officers and front-line veterans. He had a long record of military service, and the revolutionary events of the past several months had only strengthened his conviction that without organized force, no political decision could last for long.
One of the Don representatives approached him.
—"Krasnov."
—"Yes?"
—"Have you looked at the list?"
—"Which one?"
—"The participants."
Krasnov took the sheet being offered to him and glanced through it.
—"Almost everyone is here."
—"Almost?"
—"There is always someone missing from a full assembly."
His companion smiled.
—"At least now we have representatives from the other end of the Empire."
Krasnov looked at the list again.
—"That's good."
—"Do you really think they'll be able to reach an agreement?"
Krasnov thought for a moment.
—"I don't know."
—"A very encouraging answer."
—"Better an honest one than a pretty one."
His companion smiled again.
Krasnov handed the sheet back.
—"But if they can at least understand which questions we have in common, the congress will not have been pointless."
Outside, more delegates continued to arrive.
People in greatcoats, uniforms, and civilian clothing climbed the stairs. Some carried folders with documents, others held travel bags, while some had already gathered small groups of acquaintances around themselves.
The noise gradually grew louder.
Secretaries began checking the final mandates. Participants were shown to their places, the order of speeches was clarified, and people were asked not to remain in the corridors.
Finally, one of the organizers appeared at the entrance and called out loudly:
—"Comrades, the session will begin shortly. Please take your seats."
The conversations began to fade.
Representatives of the various Cossack regions gradually made their way into the hall.
The Don Cossacks entered as one group. They were followed by the Kubans, the Ukrainian Cossacks, and representatives of the Terek, Orenburg, Ural, Siberian, and Transbaikal Hosts.
A few minutes later, the corridors were almost empty.
The hall was now filled with people who had come from places separated by thousands of kilometers.
They represented different Cossack Hosts, different lands, and different views of the future.
But now they faced one common question.
What was to become of the Cossacks after the old army and the old state system had begun to collapse?
The chairman took his place.
The secretaries prepared the documents.
The last delegates entered the hall and closed the doors behind them.
The congress was beginning its work.
When the chairman opened the session, the noise in the hall gradually subsided.
Representatives of the various Cossack Hosts took their seats. On the tables before the delegates lay mandates, lists, and documents brought from different regions. Some had been prepared before the journey, while others had been drawn up after the latest events, when the old system of government had begun to collapse rapidly.
The chairman looked across the hall.
—"Comrades, before we turn to individual proposals, we must determine the main question for which we have gathered here. The Cossacks have found themselves in an entirely new situation. The old army no longer exists. The old system of command is gone as well. Therefore, we must decide what to do next."
Approving voices came from the front rows.
The chairman continued:
—"The first proposal is to hear representatives of the various Cossack Hosts and determine which problems are common to all of us."
The proposal was supported.
The first speaker was a representative of the Don Cossacks.
He rose from his seat and remained silent for several seconds, looking across the hall.
—"On the Don, the situation is much the same as everywhere else. The old order has collapsed, while the new one has not yet appeared. Cossack units are returning from the front. Men are coming home armed, but they do not always understand whom they are supposed to obey now."
He paused.
—"For us, this is not an abstract political question. If weapons remain in people's hands but order disappears, those weapons will very quickly become the cause of another conflict."
A voice came from the other side of the hall:
—"And what if we surrender the weapons?"
The Don representative looked in that direction.
—"To whom?"
For several seconds, the hall fell silent.
—"Exactly. At present, no one can give a convincing answer to that question."
After him, the floor was given to a representative of the Kuban.
He spoke more calmly, but his position was no less firm.
—"For the Kuban, the question is somewhat different. We do not want someone to simply come after the destruction of the old government and announce that they will now rule us in its place. The Kuban Cossacks have their own traditions, their own institutions, and their own understanding of how our region should be governed."
One of the delegates interrupted:
—"So you want complete independence?"
—"I said something else."
—"What exactly?"
—"I said that we are not prepared to give up what belongs to us simply because a new authority has appeared at the center."
Several Kuban representatives supported him.
But a representative of the Terek Cossacks immediately objected.
—"And if armed detachments come to your lands? Will you defend yourselves on your own?"
—"If necessary."
—"And if problems arise in neighboring territories at the same time?"
—"Then we will deal with them together with our neighbors."
—"And what if those neighbors themselves do not know whom they obey?"
The Kuban delegate fell silent for a moment.
—"Then we will have to sort things out at home first."
A quiet laugh passed through the hall, but no one tried to turn the argument into a joke.
The Terek representative now spoke about a different problem.
For them, the revolution meant more than the collapse of the old army.
It meant the weakening of the entire security system in the Caucasus.
—"Our situation is much more complicated than simply a question of obedience. When state authority disappears, every armed detachment begins to believe it has the right to decide for itself what to do. Today it is a dispute over an order. Tomorrow it may become a dispute over land. And the day after tomorrow, a war."
His words provoked far fewer objections.
Most of those present understood what he meant.
The next speaker was a representative of the Orenburg Cossacks.
He spoke about distance.
About how, for people living far from the central regions of the former Empire, decisions made in the capitals often arrived too late.
—"We have always been accustomed to relying primarily on ourselves. While the army existed, that was possible. There was a unified command, communication between the regions, supply depots, and a system of supply. Now all of that is falling apart."
—"But can the old system really be restored?" someone asked from the hall.
—"No."
—"Then what do you propose?"
The Orenburg delegate looked at him.
—"A new one."
Noise rose through the hall again.
—"What kind?"
—"One that will at least allow the Cossacks to speak to one another before they start fighting one another."
The remark produced a more serious reaction.
Several men exchanged glances.
The representative of the Ural Cossacks supported him.
—"We have a similar problem. We can preserve our forces. We can choose our own commanders. We can defend our lands. But if everyone acts only on their own, any serious external pressure will turn us into separate islands."
After him, the representative of the Transbaikal Cossacks spoke.
His words were particularly cautious.
—"I do not think anyone here truly believes that we can create a single Cossack force controlled from one center."
Several people nodded.
—"The distances are too great. The conditions are too different. Every Host has its own problems. But if we cannot create a single army, that does not mean we do not need a common voice."
The chairman looked at him carefully.
—"Are you proposing the creation of a common body?"
—"I am proposing that we first decide whether we need one."
The question hung in the air.
After that, the floor was given to a representative of the Ukrainian Cossacks.
He spoke about the situation in Ukraine and the fact that the creation of national military units had already become part of the broader political movement there.
—"For us, the Cossacks are once again acquiring not only military, but also national significance. People want to serve in units they consider their own. They want to understand what exactly they are fighting for and whom they are serving."
One of the Don delegates asked:
—"And what if your interests differ from ours?"
—"They already do."
Laughter came from several parts of the hall.
The Ukrainian delegate continued:
—"But that does not mean we have no common questions."
—"For example?"
—"The army. Weapons. Command. Land. Returning front-line soldiers. Our attitude toward the Bolsheviks."
After those words, the discussion became serious again.
The chairman raised his hand.
—"Comrades, it seems we are approaching the main question. Different Hosts have different political interests. But the problems they face are, in many respects, the same."
One of the delegates stood.
—"Then I propose that we ask the next question. If we have common problems, who will speak on behalf of the Cossacks?"
The hall became noticeably quieter.
—"Each Host can speak for itself."
—"That is exactly what we have done before."
—"And what is wrong with that?"
—"The problem is that no one hears us as a single force."
Objections came from several places.
—"We are not a single force."
—"And we should not become one."
—"But a common representative does not mean a single state."
The chairman tapped his fingers on the table.
—"Let us not argue about something no one has proposed. We are speaking only about representation."
One of the delegates rose.
—"Then I propose creating the position of Chief Ataman of the Free Cossacks."
This time the reaction was much stronger.
Some delegates began speaking approvingly to their neighbors.
Others frowned.
The representative of the Kuban was the first to demand clarification.
—"What does Chief Ataman mean?"
—"A representative of the Cossacks."
—"A commander?"
—"No."
—"A superior over the Hosts?"
—"No."
—"Then what authority would he have?"
The delegate who had proposed the idea did not answer immediately.
—"To represent the common decisions of the congress. To maintain communication between the Hosts. When necessary, to speak on behalf of the Free Cossacks."
—"And if the Don disagrees with his decision?"
—"The Don retains its own command."
—"And the Kuban?"
—"The same."
—"And Transbaikal?"
—"The same."
The Kuban representative folded his arms.
—"Then this is not a Chief Ataman in the traditional sense."
—"In the traditional sense, we no longer have anything."
The remark drew several approving voices.
Another delegate rose from his seat.
—"We must be careful. Today we create a representative position. Tomorrow someone may say that the Chief Ataman has the right to issue orders to all Cossack forces."
—"That is why it must be excluded from the beginning."
—"How?"
—"Write it into the congress resolution."
—"And what if someone changes that resolution later?"
—"Then the problem will no longer be the position itself, but whoever decided to violate the agreement."
The chairman listened to several brief remarks and then said:
—"I propose that we formulate the principle as follows: individual Cossack Hosts retain their own organization and command. The Chief Ataman of the Free Cossacks represents the common decisions of the congress and has no right to directly command individual Hosts without their consent."
The hall became quieter.
The wording was sufficiently limited not to provoke immediate resistance.
But another question remained.
Who could be appointed to the position?
The chairman looked toward the list of proposals.
—"If we agree on the need for such a position, the next question will be the candidate."
Several people began talking among themselves.
One of the delegates mentioned a name that had already been heard in the corridors for some time.
—"Skoropadskyi."
For several seconds, the conversations stopped.
The name was familiar to practically everyone present.
Some immediately nodded.
Others began to think.
The chairman looked toward the Don delegation.
And there, Pyotr Krasnov was already listening carefully to what was being said.