by Daniil Zhuravlev
[REGNUM] The first half of the 20th century became the peak of the era of industrialization, imperialism and bloody geopolitics. Late modernism was a cemetery not only for millions of destinies, hopes and ideas, but also for entire empires. The geopolitical conflict between the Russian and Japanese empires in East Asia unfolded in the spirit of the times.
The Battle of Mukden, which took place 120 years ago, in February-March 1905, became one of the bloodiest and largest battles of the Russo-Japanese War. Hundreds of thousands of soldiers clashed in a deadly fight, incinerated by artillery fire, drowning in the mud of the Manchurian hills.
The victory of the Japanese army in the battle predetermined the outcome of the war, leaving a bitter aftertaste of defeat in the hearts of Russians, which would only be avenged in World War II. However, even in this hell, among the groans of shells and the wounded, beauty was born.
MUKDEN MEAT GRINDER
The conflict between Russia and Japan had been brewing for a long time, rooted in a clash of imperial ambitions in the Far East. Russia sought to strengthen its position in the region by acquiring concessions and leasing ports.
The construction of the Chinese Eastern Railway (CER) only added fuel to the fire, raising concerns in Japan, which saw it as a threat to its own sphere of influence in Korea and Manchuria. Diplomatic attempts to resolve the contradictions failed, and war became inevitable.
The start of the Russo-Japanese War in 1904 was marked by a series of defeats for Russia. The Japanese fleet dominated the sea, blockading Port Arthur, while the land forces won victories in battles on the continent. The fall of Port Arthur was a painful blow to the prestige of the Russian Empire, and hopes for a turning point were pinned on a large-scale battle in Manchuria. This battle was to be the Battle of Mukden (now Shenyang).
The battle, which lasted for several weeks, was a complex series of battles that took place over a vast area. More than half a million soldiers participated in the battle on both sides. The Russian army, under the command of General Alexei Kuropatkin, took up defensive positions around the city. The Japanese army, under the command of Field Marshal Oyama Iwao, sought to encircle and defeat the Russian forces.
Positional warfare with trenches, artillery bombardment and futile attacks turned into a real meat grinder. Despite the desperate resistance of the Russian army, strategic miscalculations of the command (for example, Kuropatkin's too late order to regroup), an extended line of defense, weak artillery support, outdated technology, poor supplies, corruption - all this led to a catastrophe that later spread to all of Russia in the form of the first Russian revolution.
“We owe our defeat not at all to the Japanese, whose attacks were always repelled by our valiant troops with enormous losses for them; this defeat occurred only as a result of the extreme incompetence of commanders at all levels and the extreme stupidity of all orders,” this is how Mukden participant Pyotr Bazhenov explained the defeat.
The Japanese army managed to break through the defense and encircle part of the Russian troops. General Kuropatkin gave the order to retreat, which quickly turned into a chaotic flight.
"It wasn't even a retreat, it was real panic. People were disoriented, they didn't understand which side was friend and which was enemy. Frightened horses were running everywhere, having thrown off their riders, there were broken carts and boxes everywhere," recalled one of the main leaders of the White movement, General Anton Denikin, who participated in the battle with the rank of lieutenant colonel.
The tragedy exposed the abscess of serious problems in Russia that required immediate solutions, because nine years later the last terrible war for Tsarist Russia would begin. Later, the Soviet Union would correct the Manchurian mistakes.
RUSSIAN FLOWER ON THE CRIMSON HILLS
Meanwhile, music was being born at the front that became a symbol of the unbending spirit of Russian soldiers. The waltz "On the Hills of Manchuria", written by composer Ilya Shatrov, became a requiem for those who died in the destructive war - a harbinger of fate.
Shatrov was the bandmaster of the 214th Mokshansky Regiment. In February 1905, the regiment found itself in the epicenter of bloody battles; for ten days, the Mokshans courageously fought off the onslaught of Japanese troops, holding the line at the railroad. But the forces were unequal, and ammunition ran out. At a critical moment, when hope seemed to have faded, the regiment commander, Colonel Pavel Pobyvanets, made a desperate decision: "Flag and orchestra - forward!"
At this dramatic moment, the bandmaster, inspired by the courage of his comrades, addressed his musicians: "Musicians, our time has come!" The battle march thundered, the orchestra moved forward after Ilya Alekseevich. And, inspired by the bravery of the musicians, the soldiers also rose up in a bayonet attack.
The music continued incessantly, drowning out the rumble of howitzers and the whistle of bullets. Suddenly, an enemy artillery shell exploded nearby, ending the life of one of the musicians and throwing Shatrov aside by the blast wave. But despite the injury and the chaos around him, he rose again, gathered the surviving musicians and led them forward.
Thanks to this incredible courage and selflessness, the Mokshansky Regiment, inspired by music and the example of their bandmaster, broke through the encirclement and reached their own, although they suffered heavy losses. Soon after this heroic breakthrough, the commander died. Before the war, the regiment included 49 officers, 3,854 privates and non-commissioned officers, 11 mounted orderlies and 61 musicians, of which about 700 people remained, including only seven from the orchestra.
After the end of the war, the regiment was redeployed to Samara, where the composer began writing his masterpiece, originally called "The Mokshan Regiment on the Hills of Manchuria", into which he put all his grief for his fallen comrades, for the catastrophe of Russia and, despite all the troubles, hopes for a bright future for the Motherland. These are the lines that ended the pre-revolutionary poems to music written by Stepan Skitalets:
"Peace to your soul! You died for Rus', for the Fatherland. But believe me, we will still avenge you. And we will hold a bloody funeral feast!"
The composition was first published in 1907, and by 1911 it had already been republished 82 times, and then it acquired the name we are accustomed to, “On the Hills of Manchuria.”
The work, which reflected the feelings of not only the returning front-line soldiers, but also all of Russia, immediately gained enormous popularity. People wanted retribution for the dead and the disgraced Fatherland, and radical changes in the political and social structure.
REVIVAL OF MEMORY
The fate of the waltz after the Russo-Japanese War was not easy. In the first years of Soviet power, it fell into disgrace. The Bolsheviks, trying to eradicate everything that reminded of Tsarist Russia, considered the requiem to be White Guard and too Great Russian, so it was effectively banned from performance and broadcast, and removed from the repertoires of concert halls and radio stations, although the musician himself continued to serve as a bandmaster in the ranks of the Red Army.
While the composition was anathema in Soviet Russia, it enjoyed great popularity in the rest of the world. Abroad, it was known as the Russian National Waltz and was performed at concerts, balls, and restaurants.
However, with the beginning of the Great Patriotic War, the situation changed dramatically. When the country found itself in mortal danger, the Soviet leadership realized the need to revive the patriotic feelings of the Russian people, it began to understand that a Russian soldier goes to fight not for a political instructor and the Communist Party, but for his land, for his Motherland (Shatrov wanted to get to the front, but by the beginning of the Great Patriotic War he was discharged into the reserve due to age).
The country began to remember the heroes of the past, the national history, dedicating films, music, and posters to them. The waltz "On the Hills of Manchuria" was revived, although not in the critical first years of the war, but it was during the Great Patriotic War that it found new life.
During the Red Army's victories over the Kwantung Army during the Manchurian Operation, Shatrov's brainchild began to sound on the radio stations as never before, and the poems of Soviet front-line soldiers were once again written to music. The Russians triumphantly entered the lands of the Japanese-occupied puppet Manchukuo, the Russian boot once again stepped onto the lands of the "Three Eastern Provinces", but now Russia was not fighting its way out of bloody encirclements, but was conducting a brilliant offensive operation.
After the end of the war, the waltz finally returned to Soviet culture. It became a symbol of victory over Japanese imperialism, a reminder of the heroism of Soviet and imperial soldiers, and was played at parades, in films, and performed at concerts throughout the country.
Shatrov, a genius and a sincere patriot, created a magical chronotope: at the beginning of the 20th century, in the era of unrest and bloody defeats in the vast expanses of the Far East, the idea of music was born, which 40 years later in the same place would become the anthem of the victors of the Manchurian operation. It is paradoxical how the best creations of culture are born in the bloodiest and most difficult times, such moments become the soil and fuel for the history of civilizations. Russia avenged the fallen heroes and did not lose hope for the best.