To the Edge of the World Read online

  Also by Christian Wolmar

  Engines of War

  Blood, Iron & Gold

  Fire & Steam

  The Subterranean Railway

  On the Wrong Line

  Down the Tube

  Broken Rails

  Forgotten Children

  Stagecoach

  The Great Railway Disaster

  The Great Railway Revolution

  First published in Great Britain in hardback in 2013 by Atlantic Books,

  an imprint of Atlantic Books Ltd.

  Copyright © Christian Wolmar 2013

  The moral right of Christian Wolmar to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act of 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  Every effort has been made to trace or contact all copyright holders. The publishers will be pleased to make good any omissions or rectify any mistakes brought to their attention at the earliest opportunity.

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  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  Hardback ISBN: 9780857890375

  E-book ISBN: 9781782392040

  Text design by carrdesignstudio.com

  Maps by Jeff Edwards

  Index by David Atkinson

  Printed in Great Britain

  Atlantic Books

  An imprint of Atlantic Books Ltd

  Ormond House

  26–27 Boswell Street

  London WC1N 3JZ

  www.atlantic-books.co.uk

  CONTENTS

  List of Maps and Illustrations

  Maps

  Introduction

  1. A Slow Embrace

  2. Holding on to Siberia

  3. Witte’s Breakthrough

  4. Into the Steppe

  5. Travels and Travails

  6. Casus Belli

  7. The New Siberia

  8. Russia all the Way

  9. The Battle for the Trans-Siberian

  10. The Big Red Railway

  11. The Other Trans-Siberian

  12. The Greatest Railway

  Bibliography

  Notes

  Index

  LIST OF MAPS AND ILLUSTRATIONS

  MAPS

  1. Trans-Siberian Railway

  2. Far Eastern sections of the Trans-Siberian railway

  3. Russo-Japanese War 1904–05

  4. Mid-Siberian sector

  5. Western sector

  ILLUSTRATIONS

  1. Portrait of Alexander III (1845-1894) by Ivan Kramskoi. Rex/Universal History Archive/Universal Images Group.

  2. Sergei Witte at the Wentworth Hotel, Portsmouth, 01 January 1905. Getty Images/Buyenlarge/Archive Photos.

  3. Engraving of icebreaker ferry on Lake Baikal, 1904. Getty Images/Apic/Hulton Archive.

  4. Convicts working on the Trans-Siberian Railway, 1900. Rex/Roger-Viollet.

  5. Trans-Siberian Railway bridge. Mary Evans/John Massey Stewart Collection.

  6. Paramedics in a hospital train of the Russian Red Cross. Mary Evans/Sueddeutsche Zeitung Photo.

  7. Transfer of Japanese prisoners during the Russo-Japanese War. Mary Evans/Sueddeutsche Zeitung Photo.

  8. Native Manchurian people entertaining Russian soldiers. Mary Evans/Interfoto Agentur.

  9. Engineers on the railway bridge over the River Ob. akg-images.

  10. Workmen splitting logs for the Trans-Siberian Railway. Mary Evans/John Massey Stewart Collection.

  11. Trains at a marshalling yard on the Trans-Siberian Railway. Mary Evans/Sueddeutsche Zeitung Photo.

  12. Irkutsk Station, 1898. © De Agostini/The British Library Board.

  13. Japanese troops entering Vladivostok, 1918. akg-images/Interfoto.

  14. Farmers and children sell dairy products to passengers. © William Wisner Chapin/National Geographic Society/Corbis.

  15. Leon Trotsky, Petrograd station, 1920. © Hulton-Deutsch Collection/CORBIS.

  16. Armoured train on the Trans-Siberian Railway. Mary Evans/Robert Hunt Collection.

  17. Pointsman at Novosibirsk, 1929. Mary Evans/Sueddeutsche Zeitung Photo.

  18. Children selling flowers to passengers, 1921. © Ella R. Christie/National Geographic Society/Corbis.

  19. Saloon car, 1903. Mary Evans/Sueddeutsche Zeitung Photo.

  20. Buryat people at Talbaga station. Mary Evans/Sueddeutsche Zeitung Photo.

  21. Third-class in Krasnoyarsk, 1905. Mary Evans/Sueddeutsche Zeitung Photo.

  22. Vladivostok station. akg-images/Imagno.

  23. Passengers on a platform, 1915. Rex/Roger-Viollet.

  24. Yaroslavsky station, 1908. Mary Evans Picture Library.

  25. Yaroslavsky station, 1974. akg-images/RIA Nowosti.

  26. Railwayman beside snow-covered tracks, 1978. © Hulton-Deutsch Collection/CORBIS.

  27. Members of the Young Communist League at Yaroslavsky station. akg-image /RIA Nowosti.

  28. Builders of the Baikal Amur Railroad, 01 October 1984. © RIA Novosti /Alamy.

  29. Plaque at Vladivostok station. Courtesy of Deborah Maby.

  30. Novosibirsk station. Courtesy of Deborah Maby.

  31. Circum-Baikal Railway. Francorov/Wiki Commons.

  32. Rossiya Trans-Siberian train arriving at Ulan-Ude, 2007. Rex.

  33. Ulan-Ude station, 2012. Courtesy of Deborah Maby.

  34. Christian Wolmar and Deborah Maby. Courtesy of Deborah Maby.

  INTRODUCTION

  As with my previous railway history books, this is not just an account of a transport system. It is so much more than that. The story of the Trans-Siberian is both a tale of remarkable engineering stimulated by imperial ambition, and also a key part of Russian and, indeed, wider European and Asian history.

  The Trans-Siberian is not a single railway. There are several Trans-Siberians, and the one that most fits the name – the route between Moscow and Vladivostok, entirely in Russian territory – was not completed until 1916. Before that the route from Moscow to the Pacific Ocean used the Chinese Eastern Railway, built in conjunction with the Trans-Siberian, through Manchuria, which was part of China (and now known as the Trans-Manchurian). More recently, as described towards the end of this book, the eastern part of the Trans-Siberian has been paralleled with the Baikal Amur Railway, built at great financial and environmental cost by the Soviets through virgin Siberian steppe. This book concentrates on the story of these lines, rather than the various branches built in the twentieth century, such as the Turksib and the Trans-Mongolian, because the focus of the story is Siberia, which illustrates so well the theme that comes out of many of my books: the construction of a railway line results in all kinds of changes, expected and unexpected.

  In Siberia’s case, the results have inevitably been both positive and negative. In many respects, this is a tragic history. Soon after it was built, the Trans-Siberian was the catalyst for a major war, fought almost on the scale of the First World War, and then became the centre of much of the fighting in the Russian Civil War. Leon Trotsky famously used an armoured train on the line to lead the fight against the Whites, the counter-revolutionary forces in that war, and there was much bloodshed on both sides. In particular, the biggest mistake was to have built the original line through Manchuria, a move that not only resulted almost immediately in the Russo-Japanese War, but was also instrumental in bringing about the Russian Revolution, as it stimulated the failed Russian uprising of 1905.


  The Trans-Siberian itself contributed to the epoch-making revolution of 1917. The concentration of resources by an impoverished government on what was perceived as adventurism in the Far East – especially during the building of the Amur railway in the years running up to the First World War – undoubtedly contributed to the political instability in Russia. The Trans-Siberian, therefore, does not merely have a major role in railway history, but its contribution to the wider geopolitics of the twentieth century cannot be overestimated. Without the Trans-Siberian, modern maps of Europe and Asia might have a very different complexion.

  The sequence of wars, as well as the mass migration stimulated by the line, were the source of much suffering, and there are numerous tragic stories in this book. But there is also a fantastic, positive tale to be told, one that is too often omitted or simply forgotten in the clichéd view of Russia. The construction and the continued efficient operation of the Trans-Siberian ranks among the greatest achievements of mankind. Indeed, much of this book is about debunking myths. The Trans-Siberian came in for considerable criticism in the West when it was first built. The Russians were portrayed as corrupt incompetents. While undoubtedly mistakes were made and money went missing, this is to deny a magnificent achievement, one of the great engineering wonders of the world.

  As I found when I travelled along the line, this is not some little meandering rural railway with the occasional chundering train, but rather, one of the world’s great arteries, a piece of infrastructure that transformed not only the region in which it was built, but also the entire nation that built it.

  The first chapter sets the scene with an outline of pre-railway Siberia and a short account of the development of Russia’s first railways. Indeed, Russia took to the iron road rather late and its backward economic state meant the network grew more slowly than in Europe, despite the vast size of the nation. In the second chapter I explain the reasons why the Trans-Siberian became an important political issue in the latter stages of the nineteenth century, and consider the arguments between the protagonists and the opponents. There were no shortage of schemes put forward, but for a long time Russia’s rulers were opposed to the idea. Then, as explained in chapter 3, the mood changed, largely thanks to one man, the great Sergei Witte, the line’s successful advocate and a brilliant politician and administrator – a rare combination.

  It took about thirty years between the idea for the line first emerging and the decision to go ahead. However, the choice of route through Manchuria was to have devastating effects. Remarkably, as explained in chapter 4, it took barely a decade to build the Trans-Siberian, despite the difficult climate, disease, shortage of materials and labour, and widespread corruption. It was an amazing achievement, although the condition of the completed line did leave a lot to be desired.

  The fifth chapter covers the experiences of early travellers, which were undoubtedly mixed and at times perilous. Nevertheless, most came away impressed and there was, right from the beginning, a constant process of improvement. Their accounts are certainly varied and entertaining. Chapter 6 covers the first of several wars fought around the Trans-Siberian: the Russo-Japanese conflict, which was stimulated by the construction of the line and proved disastrous for Russia.

  In chapter 7 the impact of the construction of the line is assessed. It transformed Siberia from a place just known for exiles and prisoners into a honey pot for immigrants, who arrived in their millions, encouraged by the state. Industry and agriculture both flourished. Chapter 8 tells the story of the completion of the line using solely Russian territory with the construction of the Amur Railway, the most difficult section, in order to bypass the troubled Manchurian route. The ninth chapter is the account of the civil war on the Trans-Siberian, a bloody and prolonged battle that ultimately decided the fate of the Russian Revolution.

  Chapter 10 covers the interwar period, again a time of conflict, and then, worse, the establishment of the Gulags that were to cost the lives of millions of people caught up in Stalin’s bloody purges. It also explains the role of the Trans-Siberian in the industrialisation of Siberia, and the subsequent transfer of vast amounts of industry to the east in order to protect it from Hitler’s invasion.

  The eleventh chapter covers the terrible history of the construction of the Baikal Amur Magistral or BAM, the world’s biggest railway project, which caused widespread environmental damage and has created a white elephant. Finally, in chapter 12 there is a brief account of the Trans-Siberian in the post-war period and an analysis of its impact on history.

  A note on distances. The Trans-Siberian is 5,771 miles (9,288 kilometres) long, according to the famous monument at Vladivostok Station, but over the years the construction of tunnels and the straightening out of curves has reduced its overall distance. It is, therefore, a few miles shorter, but that is hardly significant; although in a sense the Trans-Siberian is a slight misnomer, since it is 9,000 miles from St Petersburg to Kamchatka, the furthermost point of Siberia in the north-east. In other words, the Trans-Siberian does only two thirds of the job. Nevertheless, it is an impressive one. The author of The Big Red Train Ride, the late Eric Newby, summed it up best: ‘There is no railway journey of comparable length anywhere in the world. The Trans-Siberian is the big train ride. All the rest are peanuts.’

  A note on dates. Russia used the Julian calendar until just after the October Revolution (which was actually in November in the Gregorian calendar) and changed to the Gregorian on Wednesday, 31 January 1918, which, consequently, was followed by Thursday, 14 February 1918, thus dropping thirteen days from the calendar. I have, therefore, used dates from the appropriate calendar: the Julian for events in Russia before 1918 and the Gregorian thereafter. Dates in Europe follow the Gregorian throughout.

  I make no apology for being inconsistent with translations from Russian spelling. There are variants of almost all names, and I have merely tried to select those best known.

  I owe a particular debt to two people. First, to Stephen Marks, not only for his meticulous and fascinating account of the circumstances that led to the construction of the line in his book Road to Power: The Trans-Siberian Railroad and the Colonization of Asian Russia, 1850–1917, but also for being kind enough to read the draft and offer numerous corrections and comments. Second, to Bernard Gambrill, who from his Bruges hidey-hole read through the draft meticulously, picking up on errors both stylistic and factual. He also spent a remarkable amount of time digging up hundreds of potential images, and it is thanks to him that the book has such a good selection. My friend Liam Browne researched the section on agitprop trains, which was exceedingly helpful, and several other people have offered advice, including William Aldridge, Jim Ballantyne, John Fowler, Brent Hudson, Andrew Jones, Peter Lewis, Kate Pangbourne, Gordon Pettit, Harvey Smith and John Thorpe, as well as Teresa Glyn, who deserves a mention. There are others whom I am sure I have forgotten, but they will be included in the next edition.

  I am also enormously grateful to my wonderful partner Deborah Maby, not only for her support and her practical help in reading the proofs, but, best of all, for accompanying me on the Trans-Siberian in November 2012 for what was quite literally a trip of a lifetime and a fantastic experience. As they say in the guide books: recommended. Thanks are also due to the staff at Real Russia for organising the journey. I am grateful, too, to my agent, Andrew Lownie; Toby Mundy and Louise Cullen at my publishers; and Ian Pindar, the copy editor. I claim, however, all the mistakes.

  I dedicate this book to my much-loved and missed rogue of a father Boris Forter (né Kougoulsky, 1896–1976), who would have loved hearing about my trip to his homeland – which, sadly, he was never able to visit after he was forced to leave following the Revolution – and to read my account of this great railway. He was born in Moscow in the year the first major section of the Trans-Siberian was completed, fought against the Austrians in the Carpathian Mountains in the First World War and considered joining the White forces in 1918, a story I relate in the book; but, fort
unately (not least for me), he fled to France instead, and later the United States and Britain.

  I also dedicate this book to little Alfie, born 114 years later, who already seems to love trains.

  ONE

  A SLOW EMBRACE

  There were many reasons for Russia not to have built the Trans-Siberian Railway – and very few to build it. While by 1869 America boasted a transcontinental railway and Canada, more relevantly, followed suit sixteen years later, Russia was different. Unlike most of Europe, which had embraced liberalism to accommodate the needs of industrial growth, Russia remained an absolute monarchy ruled by a conservative tsar through a political system that made no concessions to democracy. Travel was circumscribed by the state to such an extent that rail passengers needed internal passports to travel around the country. Compared with the United States and Canada, Russia was a primitive country, based on inefficient agriculture and boasting little industry. The territory of Siberia – the vast area east of the Urals through which the railway would pass – was sparsely populated and its climate was far harsher than the western regions of Canada and the United States, which had begun to be settled thanks to their transcontinental railways. It seemed to offer little to attract potential immigrants who would be needed to justify the massive cost of constructing the line. Given the likely poor demand for travel the need for the line could, therefore, be questioned.

  Then there was the sheer scale of the enterprise. The railway would have to stretch across the whole of Siberia to the port of Vladivostok, a distance of some 5,7501 miles – 9,255 kilometres – from Moscow, since it made no sense to stop halfway, given its military rationale was to serve the ports on the Sea of Japan and reinforce the ties between the centre and the most disparate parts of the Russian Empire. As a comparison, the First American Transcontinental, which linked an already well-developed network of lines in the American Midwest with California, required only 1,780 miles of new line when work began in California in 1863. Given Russia’s poverty and its feudal, rather than capitalist, economy, neither private firms nor the state seemed in a position to embark on such an ambitious and costly project.