The militant minority immediately took advantage of this opportunity to invite workers and other non-students to political gatherings on university grounds. Academic work became impossible as institutions of higher learning turned into “political clubs”: non-conforming professors and students were subjected to intimidation and harassment.97
The workers were slow to respond to the invitation of student militants but curiosity got the better of them. As word got around that the students treated them with respect, increasing numbers of workers turned up. They listened to speeches and soon began to speak up themselves.98 Similar scenes took place in other university towns, including Moscow. It was an unprecedented spectacle to have radical students incite workers to strike and rebel without police interference. Trepov’s hope that his relaxed rules would allow students to “blow off steam” had completely misfired. In Witte’s view, the university regulations of August 27 were a disaster: “it was the first breach through which the Revolution, which had ripened underground, emerged into the open.”99At the end of September a new wave of strikes broke out in central Russia. Although economic in origin, they became rapidly politicized thanks to the efforts of the Union of Unions and the radical students who followed its lead.
The strikes which were to culminate in the general strike of mid-October began with a walkout of Moscow printers on September 17. The dispute, which began peacefully, was over wages, but university students soon gave it a political coloration. The strikers clashed with the police and Cossacks. Other workers joined in the protests. On October 3, St. Petersburg printers struck in sympathy.100
Until the formation of the St. Petersburg Soviet on October 13, the universities served as coordinating centers for the strike movement because they were then the only institutions in Russia where it was possible to hold political meetings without police interference.101 Their lecture halls and other facilities were taken over for political rallies, attended by thousands. Trubetskoi, the rector of Moscow University, was determined not to allow his institution to be turned into a political battleground and ordered it closed on September 22. (It was his last act, for he died suddenly a week later: his funeral in Moscow was an occasion for a grandiose political demonstration.) But St. Petersburg University and the St. Petersburg Technological Institute stayed open and this allowed them to play a critical role in the events that led to the general strike.Industrial unrest in Moscow and St. Petersburg assumed a national dimension when the railroad workers joined in. It was noted previously that the All-Russian Union of Railroad Employees and Workers, an affiliate of the Union of Unions, had been discussing since the summer of 1905 the possibility of a general political strike. The railroad action began with a minor incident. In late September the authorities convened a conference to discuss with railroad representatives questions connected with their pension rights. On October 4–5 false rumors spread that the workers attending this conference had been arrested. The Railroad Employees and Workers Union used this opportunity to execute its plan. On October 6, the Moscow railroads struck, isolating the city. The strike spread to other cities, soon joined by communication and factory workers and white-collar employees. In all instances, the Union of Unions and its affiliates made certain that the strikers posed political demands, calling for the convocation of a Constituent Assembly elected on a “four-tail” franchise (universal, direct, secret, and equal ballot). Partly spontaneous, partly directed, the movement headed toward a complete work stoppage. On October 8, the Union of Unions instructed its members to join in support of the railroad workers and set up strike committees throughout the country. The stage was set for a general strike.*
On October 6, as the movement was gathering momentum, Witte requested an audience with the Tsar, which was granted three days later. Witte, who in the past was inclined to tell the Tsar what he wanted to hear, was now brutally frank. He told Nicholas that he had two choices: appoint a military dictator or make major political concessions. The rationale for the latter was outlined in a memorandum which he brought along.* Nicholas almost certainly told his wife what had transpired, for Witte was requested to return to Peterhof the following day, October 10, to repeat his arguments in her presence. Throughout the encounter, Alexandra never uttered a word.