war the wholesale commandeering of the entire raw materials and of the industrial resources of the country, even down to the smallest shops, for the purpose of turning out munitions, was bound to have a most disastrous effect. It would have been sound policy—either to exploit all the manufacturing resources of the country for the making of munitions and to devote the imports from America and Great Britain primarily to the needs of the civil population—or vice versa. But as it was, by far the greater part of these imports were given over to war supplies, and now in addition the entire home production was mobilised for making munitions. Needless to say, this was a suicidal process, and its disastrous effects were evident only too soon.
The need and the privations of the civilian population grew worse, in proportion as the army was being better supplied with munitions.
The mobilisation of industry was a kind of illness; some sort of fever which took possession of Russian patriotic society. It was a panic movement, striving hastily to repair and to cover over the awful inward disorganisation and inefficiency which were suddenly laid bare by the Galician disaster. The very nervousness of the movement reveals the desperate mood of Russia at that time.
The rapidity with which the mobilisation of industry was achieved was the first great blow to the national economy. With impulsive haste, every little workshop cast aside its ordinary materials and processes for the manufacture of "civilian articles" and turned to the production of war materials. The enormous rate of output was the second blow, being far greater than the Russian factories could stand. "All for the War!" The State encouraged the manufacturers to exploit their plant to the greatest possible extent, and the manufacturers were only too glad of the chance. And then began a period of truly rapacious over-exploitation of plant, machinery, and labour.
