The immediate cause of the Ipatiev house murders was certainly a decision of the Ural Soviet carried out by Yurovsky. Lenin's direct complicity is less certain. (See The Fate of the Romanovs by King and Wilson.) However, causality has many tentacles, and there is a legitimate question whether Lenin (and the Ural Soviet) could have arisen without a chain of events that included Bloody Sunday. I'm still not willing to absolve Nicholas of responsibility for that chain of events.
In their interpretation of the events leading to the murder of the imperial family, King and Wilson closely follow Mark Steinberg, an American professor of Russian history whose methodology is Marxist and whose specialty is the Russian working class. (I think they even thank him in their acknowledgements for his input.) In his book,
The Fall of the Romanovs, Steinberg goes out of his way to excuse Lenin and company for any role in the murder of the imperial family. This is not an opinion widely shared by Russian historians. It is still a matter of intense debate, as well it should be.
For any careful scrutiny of the timeline of events from the Grand Duke Michael's murder in June 1918 to the murders in Ekaterinburg and Alapaievsk in July demonstrates that the Kremlin had every inkling of what was coming (if they didn't, simply put, they were fools) and every opportunity to give its (undoubtedly tacit) approval to the Ural Soviet for the IF's murder well in advance of July 16-17, 1918.
(Yurovsky was a more complex character than the label of "cold-blooded fanatic" conveys. He was a bright man born into impoverished circumstances in a Siberian backwater. His conversion to "fanaticism" was a slow process that arose from the unrelenting difficulties of finding a path to prosperity for himself and his family in a society that did not appreciate such ambition in the low-born. In his later writings, he commented that he carried out Nicholas' execution as a duty to a revolution that he felt could not be stabilized with the threat of a restoration hanging over it. He also commented that, as he got to know the imperial family in captivity, he came to regret what he felt to be the necessity of killing them. I admit this is a pretty good definition of cold-blooded pragmatism. I'm not so sure it qualifies as fanaticism.)
The "necessity" of killing women and children? However much he personally regretted it? That's precisely the mindset that defines an ideological fanatic. (Think Eichmann or any other number of 20th-century scumbags.) Normally, this good, hard-working everyman would be incapable of committing such a horrific crime, but given the right political circumstances, the historical necessity, the Marxist dialectic, the whatever.... Of course Yurovsky was an ideologue of the Bolshevik type! He was utterly, even disgustingly typical: his asceticism, his cold and calculating (impersonal, professional, Chekist) approach to the murder of women and children, his excuses for their suffering (their "greed" prolonged their "agony," and so on), his self-pity (for indeed, what trials and tribulations a man has to go through to fulfill his professional duty!), his pride in his historical accomplishment (killing unarmed civilians with all the cruel ineptitude of the typical Russian tyrant). I'm sorry, but to feel sympathy for a character like Yurovsky engenders nothing but moral nausea... or should engender nothing but moral nausea.
It's the usual equivocation with crimes against humanity committed by Communists - somehow they're not as bad as other crimes, because they were committed for the sake of an ideal, and after all the guy had a bad childhood, and he was poor, and it was all so unfair.
Rot.
(If only we were so lenient with Nicholas, who killed how many thousands to the Bolsheviks' millions?)
At the turn of the 20th century the American government had already begun a realignment of its sympathies away from big industry and toward labor unionism. The Sherman Anti-Trust Act was passed in 1890 to break up the monopolies. The federal courts were beginning to carve out exceptions to the long-standing Philadelphia Cordwainer's case that embedded the common law hostility to trade unions. This all culminated with the Wagner Act (aka The National Labor Relations Act) in 1935 that so thoroughly swung the pendulum in favor of labor that the Taft-Hartley Act was needed in 1947 to return to center. (I have a J.D. with a specialization in labor law and spent the first seven years of my career in labor relations.) Granted the process took decades, as is typical in a pluralistic society. But America was moving down that road at a time when Witte was having the rug pulled out from under him on industrial reforms in Russia.
Here I defer to your greater knowledge and expertise. With only one proviso: you must admit that proletarian life was no picnic in turn-of-the-twentieth-century America (seriously, am I the only one here who had to read
How the Other Half Lives in high school??).
I appreciate your pointing out China's peasant rebellions. I know embarrassingly little about that country. However, I still feel that urban revolutions have generally posed more risk to central governments than rural ones, at least in the West.
But the Russia of which we speak was never quite of the West, except in the wishful thoughts of its "Westernizers." And this was due in no small part not only to Russia's geographical distance from Europe and its lack of strong institutional checks to autocratic power, but also and perhaps just as importantly to its outrageously enormous peasant population and its eensy-weensy weak and humble middle class (indeed, all these issues were not unrelated). With Russia you always come down to the lack of a middle class and the fact that the country was (and is) too vast and under-governed. The governmental infrastructure at the local level has always been (and is to this day) inadequate. Thus the foundering of Stolypin's reforms and other tsarist attempts to modernize the country. Of course Nicholas could have encouraged the zemstvos (and their "senseless dreams") but other, stronger leaders have had to resort to terror to impose their will.
N.B. It seems we condemn Nicholas whenever he or his government resorted to violence, as Peter and Stalin certainly did, and condemn him when he did not. Kind of a no win situation for the last tsar, no?