In the UK, the term ‘Trotskyite’ is usually a masked insult reserved for militant Trade Unionists, political dinosaurs, or a certain type of scruffy idealist, usually attired in a beret and German Army shirt (these are a dying breed, admittedly). But at a small museum in Mexico City, it’s considered a compliment of the highest order.
When Trotsky fled the USSR in 1930s, he came to Mexico – a country just emerged from its own revolution and largely sympathetic to communist ideals. He holed himself up in a small fortress-like house in the suburb of Coyoacán, Mexico City, fearing reprisals from his former comrade and political enemy, Stalin, who was already well lost to paranoia.
But on 20th August 1940, Trotsky could hide no more. Stalinist agent Ramón Mercader successfully assassinated the Ukranian-born Bolshevik by driving an ice-pick into his skull. Russian assassinations are always colourful – Rasputin and Alexander Litvinenko would certainly agree.
Trotsky's study, where he lived, worked and died. He suffered splitting headaches and high blood pressure, apparently. That's nothing a little hole in the skull won't cure.
Trotsky’s house in Coyoacán remains a tribute to the fallen Soviet hero where giant posters feature the great Communist intellectual in repose, smiling sweetly through his spectacles and snow white goatee.
A bronze, statesman-like bust proudly greets visitors on entrance, lovingly crafted and unwittingly ironic.
And hundreds of black and white photographs depict the old man in casual, day-to-day scenes – Trotsky chatting with friends, Trotsky at work in his study, Trotsky enjoying a picnic.
Far from a foaming-at-the-mouth left-wing radical, Trotsky was just a harmless old man.
Outside, a strangely beautiful garden is the last resting place of his ashes, marked by a Soviet Monument and a Red Flag, maguey plants, cacti and small trees. There is unconditional love and admiration for Trotsky at this little museum.
The last resting place of Comrade Trotsky. We won't forget you, Brother!
And the enthusiasm is almost infectious, but not quite. In a room dedicated to his years as leader of the Red Army, dusty old photos depict Trotsky surrounded by soldiers and grim parades, and posing with Lenin and Stalin upon the ashes of Russian villages.
Amid all the flattery it’s easy to forget that Trotsky was also a man a violence, a ruthless killer, and his beloved Revolution gave birth to one of the most odious regimes in history. In the true spirit of poetic justice, an ice-pick in the brain was exactly what he deserved.
Leon Trotsky: Man of Violence. And anyone who doesn't like it can bend over.
