The October Revolution Changed the World 100 Years Ago.

But the Shocking Downfall of Russia's Last Tsar Made It

Possible

A monument to Tsar Alexander III being dismantled. October 1917. Mirrorpix

/ Getty Images

By Danny Bird Updated: November 6, 2017 3:43 PM ET

A century ago this week, Russias October Revolution changed the world forever by
establishing the first Communist state in history. Yet the revolutions success would
have been impossible had the Russian monarchy not collapsed just months before.
Though often treated as a mere footnote to the grand narrative of the Russian
Revolution, the downfall of the Romanov dynasty in 1917 came as an enormous
shock. The prehistory of the revolution is essential to appreciating just how radical a
break it was. Indeed, just four years earlier, the Crown had appeared to be at the
height of its powers.

In 1913 the monarchys prospects looked positively auspicious, as Russia

commemorated 300 years of the ruling dynasty an event known as the Romanov
Tercentenary. Tsarist autocracy, the notion that the tsar was all-powerful, had
weathered the stormy beginnings of Nicholas IIs reign apparently unscathed.
Organizers used the Tercentenary to present the past as a glorious model for modern
Russia to emulate. The events success raises the question of what might have been.

Like other monarchies, Russias was based on continuity, and the idea that the
monarchy embodied stability and tradition. Yet each new reign was also expected to
symbolically overturn the last. Since Peter the Greats reforms, the need to
demonstrate transformative ability in state matters had become the defining
hallmark of absolute power. Nicholas abandoned this custom by retaining his
predecessors ministers and persevering with his fathers vision.

Romantic ideals inspired by 17th century Muscovy the original tsarist state that
would become Russia were fashionable when Nicholas became tsar in 1894. These
resonated with his belief that Peter the Greats choice in the 1700s to move his
capital to St. Petersburg, his window on the west, had constituted a rejection of
Moscow and had weakened Russian identity. Only a return to true, organic tsarism
could purify Russias soul.

The building of an Orthodox cathedral in St. Petersburg, known as the Church on

Spilled Blood, was the showpiece of this cultural restoration project.
Commissioned by Alexander III in 1883 to honor his father, it was finally opened in
1907. Built in defiance of the citys neoclassical style, it echoed Moscows St. Basils
Cathedral. Muscovite imagery connected 20th century tsarism with the origins of the
Russian state and was on full display at the Tercentenary ceremonies.

This focus on the dynastys Russian roots also functioned as a counterpoint to

accusations of Romanov disloyalty. As the Tercentenary approached, friction
between the Russian and German empires intensified. Nicholass consort, Alexandra,
was a German princess by birth and never earned her adopted countrys trust. That
she produced an heir with hemophilia only made matters worse. Tragically,
Alexandra inherited the gene from her grandmother, Queen Victoria. Foreign blood,
it seemed, had contaminated the Russian court.

Get your history fix in one place: sign up for the weekly TIME History newsletter

For the Romanovs, the 300th anniversary was also a moment to reaffirm their
dynastys legitimate right to the throne. In 1613, a makeshift parliament had ended
Russias anarchic Time of Troubles by electing Michael Romanov as tsar. Nicholas
seized the opportunity to renew this foundation, centuries later, by going directly to
the people.

During a tour of Muscovys historic cities, hundreds knelt down before him and sang
the imperial anthem. Such scenes bolstered Nicholas conviction that autocracy, not
democracy, was hardwired in the Russian psyche. Throughout 1913, Glinkas opera, A
Life for the Tsar, was performed across the empire. Its theme of peasant sacrifice for
tsarist salvation serenaded the Romanovs into their fourth century.

The promise of 1913 faded as Russia became embroiled in World War I. With
Nicholas away at the front, the capital fell under his wifes supervision. Alexandras
devotion to the monk Rasputin provoked the ire of courtiers, but his ability to stem
their sons bleeding fits had made him indispensable to the couple.
Rumors of the healers influence over imperial governance scandalized Russia and
wreaked irreparable damage on the monarchys image. In December 1916, a group of
noblemen killed Rasputin in a desperate effort to avert catastrophe.

Bread shortages, wage stagnation and an influx of refugees fleeing the German army
led to mass strikes by spring 1917. When troops began fraternizing with protestors,
Nicholas realized the gravity of the situation and abdicated. His sons illness and a
lack of willing successors rendered the monarchy obsolete. Though most welcomed
the news, many found it earth-shattering nonetheless.

Matilda Kshesinskaya, an aristocratic ballerina, captured the mood in her memoir

Dancing in Petersburg: It seemed so extraordinary that we could scarcely believe it.
It was not, it could not be, true! Sixteen months later, the nascent Soviet regime
murdered Nicholas and his family in a squalid cellar.

An obelisk was unveiled alongside the Kremlin Wall in July 1914. Dedicated to the
Tercentenary, it displayed a chronology of the Romanov tsars. Ultimately, it became
little more than a sepulcher for tsarism. A year after Nicholass abdication, Russias
new Communist leaders adapted the monument to venerate a role call of
revolutionary thinkers. What once carried the authority of stone had become little
more than dust.

Appeals to a past golden age are rife in contemporary politics. too. They offer a false
sense of security in a fast-changing world. Yet events seldom, if ever, conform to a
script. Nicholass fate reminds us that even history is a fair-weather friend at the
best of times.

Danny Bird is a graduate of UCL School of Slavonic and East European Studies, with a
special interest in modern Spanish and Russian history.