When Trotsky was exiled from the
Soviet Union, he bounced around the continents, spending some time in Las
Vegas. Lev Davidovich was not pleased. Seeing the gambling in a casino, he
said, The shutting-off of the electric lights at midnight does not prevent the
flourishing of gambling-clubs where champagne sparkles by candlelight[1]. His
wife, Natalia, suggested they go to Circus Circus instead, but Lev Davidovich
also protested: This smacks of turning revolutionary duty into a football, and
kicking it around like clowns in a circus[2]. Exasperated, Natalia took Lev
Davidovich for a walk down the strip. Seeing a street whore, he cried out, It
is unforgivable in the presence of prostitution to talk about the triumph of
socialism[3]. Fine, Lyova, Natalia said. I'm going back to our room. Lev
Davidovich wandered back into the casino he had first walked into. He walked up
to a roulette table and, finding a ruble in his pocket, placed it on seventeen.
When the wheel stopped spinning, it had hit seventeen. You've won! the man
spinning the wheel said to Trotsky, handing him thirty-three chips. Would you
like to bet another number? Yes, Lev Davidovich said. After all, I do believe
in permanent revolution.
[1] History of the Russian
Revolution, New York: Pathfinder Press, 1980, p. 1049
[2] The First Five Years of the
Communist International, New York: Pioneer Publishers, 1945, p. 236
[3] The Revolution Betrayed,
Mineola, N.Y.: Dover, 2004, p. 112.