Between Giants

by Prit Buttar

  Tentative moves towards negotiations between Germany and the Soviet Union started in April 1939, but although economic measures were agreed, at least in outline, during July, there was little progress on serious diplomatic talks until several weeks after Litvinov’s dismissal. Tensions had been raised during the summer when Latvia, under pressure from Germany, agreed to sign a non-aggression pact; Latvian diplomats joked lugubriously that ‘Germany can now sleep in peace: Latvia will not attack it.’7 Stalin and Molotov feared that they might find themselves with the unwelcome presence of German troops within easy striking distance of major Soviet cities, particularly after Nikitin, the Soviet ambassador in Tallinn, reported that German and Estonian officials had met to discuss collaboration in the construction of a major road from the Estonian–Latvian border to the north8; consequently, the Soviets increased their own diplomatic approaches to Berlin. Despite this, progress remained slow, not least because the agendas of the two countries diverged considerably.

  Stalin’s requirements from a treaty with Germany were more than simply a non-aggression pact. In order to ensure that Leningrad could be defended, it was highly desirable for the Soviet Union to be given a free hand to place troops in Estonia. Although the border with Latvia was a little further away from vital locations, and the land route from this border into the Soviet interior was a difficult one, as the Wehrmacht would discover in 1941, a similar argument could be made for Latvia as for Estonia. The Western Powers had steadfastly refused to countenance granting the Soviet Union such freedom of action, and although an Anglo-French delegation travelled to Moscow in August 1939, there was little prospect of an agreement that would satisfy Stalin. Hitler, by contrast, about to invade Poland, was anxious to secure an agreement with the Soviet Union, and had no compunction about agreeing spheres of influence with his large eastern neighbour. On 15 August, the German ambassador to Moscow, Graf Friedrich Werner von der Schulenburg, informed Molotov that the German Foreign Minister, Joachim von Ribbentrop, wished to have a meeting, and that matters such as a non-aggression pact and a division of Eastern Europe into spheres of influence could be settled to the mutual advantage of the two powers. On 17 August, Kliment Voroshilov, the Commissar for Defence, proposed to the Anglo-French delegation a treaty of mutual military assistance, which would require Poland and Rumania to allow the passage of Soviet troops in the event of a German attack. When the British representative replied that he had no authority to agree such a deal, Stalin lost patience and decided to cement arrangements with Germany.9

  Two days later, Molotov summoned Schulenburg and presented him with a draft non-aggression pact. On 21 August, the Anglo-French delegation was dismissed, even as Ribbentrop prepared to travel to Moscow. The German Foreign Minister arrived on 23 August, and met Stalin and Molotov that afternoon. The broad outline of a deal was agreed within hours, and the pact, designed to last ten years, was signed at 0200hrs on 24 August.

  The treaty became public on the same day, and was greeted with shock throughout the world, by both allies and potential foes of Germany and the Soviet Union. Ambassador Nikitin in Tallinn reported with great satisfaction that the bewilderment of the Estonians was complete, and that the government was totally disoriented by this new development.10 Neither of the signatories had any illusions about the pact. On the very day that the pact was signed, Stalin joined his closest associates on a duck hunt, telling them: ‘Of course it’s all a game to see who can fool whom. I know what Hitler’s up to. He thinks he’s outsmarted me but actually it’s I who’s tricked him.’11

  Hitler, too, regarded the treaty as merely a temporary expedient. As preparations for the invasion of Poland progressed, he gave his views to his followers: ‘There is no time to lose. War must come in my lifetime. This pact was only meant to stall for time, and, gentlemen, to Russia will happen what I have practised with Poland – we will crush the Soviet Union.’12

  Caught between the two powers, the Baltic States struggled to adapt to the sudden change in their world. For several years, they had been pressured, often overtly, by Germany and the Soviet Union to choose which they would support. Suddenly, the two opposed powers were friends. They struggled to make sense of this dramatic shift and its effect on their own status, unaware that a protocol to the Molotov–Ribbentrop Pact had already decided their fate. The text of the protocol, secret at the time and denied by Moscow until the fall of the Soviet Union, gave Stalin his desired territorial gains to protect the approaches to Leningrad:

  In the event of a territorial and political rearrangement of the regions making up the Baltic States (Finland, Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania) the northern frontier of Lithuania will simultaneously serve as the frontier of the spheres of interest of Germany and the USSR. In this, Lithuania’s interest in connection with the Vilnius District is recognised by both parties.13

  Given longstanding German claims to Estonia and Latvia, based on historical involvement in the area, the ease with which Germany conceded these territories to the Soviet Union is indicative of how keen Hitler was to secure a deal with Stalin, but nothing less would have appeased the Soviet leader, who regarded the deployment of the Red Army in the two countries as an essential requirement for the defence of Leningrad. At first, the Germans requested that their sphere of influence should include Courland, the western part of Latvia, but Stalin responded that the entire region had been part of the Russian Empire, and that the USSR therefore had an overriding claim to the territories.

  As war between Germany and Poland drew ever closer, the German envoy to Lithuania, Erich Zechlin, informed the Lithuanian government on 29 August that in the event of war, Berlin would require Lithuania to observe total neutrality; should this not occur, Germany would have to take whatever steps were required to safeguard its interests. In an attempt to sway Lithuanian sentiment, the Germans hinted that any conflict between Germany and Poland could result in territorial realignment, including the Vilnius region, currently part of Poland, and that the Lithuanians should take steps to seize the region once war began. It was clear that the German concept of ‘strict neutrality’ was somewhat different from what the words might have been taken to mean. The Lithuanians now found themselves under pressure from other quarters: the British and French pressed the Lithuanian government not to attack Poland, even within the disputed Vilnius region.

  German forces invaded Poland on 1 September. Polish refugees flowed into Lithuania, which proclaimed its intention to remain strictly neutral; to the disappointment of the Germans, Lithuania made no attempt to seize Vilnius and the surrounding area. On 17 September, Soviet forces entered Poland from the east. As it was clear that the Red Army would seize Vilnius – the city itself fell to Soviet troops on 19 September – Berlin ordered Zechlin to stop encouraging the Lithuanians from making any move of their own.

  With the entire Vilnius region in Soviet hands, Stalin found himself in a strong position with regard to both Germany and Lithuania. Molotov put off discussions with either nation about Vilnius, though he hinted to the Lithuanians that Vilnius would be part of a general settlement of issues in the area.14 Meanwhile, Ribbentrop informed the Lithuanian Foreign Minister, Juozas Urbšys, that Germany was prepared to offer a treaty in which Lithuania would fall under the protection of Germany, with Lithuanian troops coming under the command of the Wehrmacht. To the irritation of the Germans, the Lithuanians informed both the British and the Soviets of the German offer, and Ribbentrop cancelled a proposed meeting with his Lithuanian counterpart.

  If Germany was having some difficulty in securing its share of the Baltic States, the Soviet Union appeared to have no such handicaps. The first move came against Estonia, aided by an incident involving a Polish submarine. The Orzeł, deployed in the Baltic Sea, reached Tallinn on 14 September, where the ship’s captain was hospitalised with a serious illness. The Hague Convention required Estonia to intern the submarine, and, after German demands for action, Estonian forces duly boarded the vessel. The crew of the Orzeł had other ideas, and
slipped out of the harbour on 18 September, taking advantage of foggy conditions. They left two Estonian sailors who had been aboard the submarine on the Swedish coast, together with clothing and sufficient money for them to return to Estonia, and escaped to Britain, eventually reaching the naval base in Rosyth. On 24 September, Molotov informed Karl Selter, the Estonian Foreign Minister, who happened to be in Moscow to discuss trade agreements, that the ‘Orzeł incident’ demonstrated that Estonia was not acting as a true neutral state, and that the Estonian authorities must have collaborated with the Polish submarine crew during their escape. As its neutrality was now in question, Estonia had to accept a military alliance or mutual assistance agreement with the Soviet Union. Selter was also informed that some 160,000 Soviet troops were deployed along the Estonian border, and that they would take whatever action was required to ensure that Estonia fulfilled its obligations. The Estonians were given little time to agree to what amounted to an ultimatum. A tentative approach to Germany was rebuffed by Berlin – the Germans added that they would block any arms shipments to Estonia from the west.15 The Soviet Air Force sent its planes sweeping low over Tallinn to intimidate Päts’ government, and on 27 September, Selter was summoned to the Bolshoi Ballet, where Stalin and Molotov were watching a production of Swan Lake. During the interval at the end of the first act, they met Selter in the lobby of the theatre. Molotov insisted on an immediate agreement stationing 35,000 Soviet troops in Estonia. Stalin generously offered to reduce this to a mere 25,000, but in any event Estonia had no option but to acquiesce, not least because the entire strength of the Estonian armed forces amounted to only 16,000 men.16 The agreement was signed the following day, allowing 25,000 Soviet troops to be stationed on two islands and in the port of Paldiski.17

  With Estonia out of the way, Soviet attention turned to Latvia. On 30 September, Moscow invited the Latvian government to send plenipotentiaries to the Soviet capital for discussions. On 2 October, Molotov informed the Latvian delegation that the Soviet Union intended to bring its relations with Latvia into line with its new arrangements with Estonia. Like Päts in Estonia, Ulmanis knew that Latvia could not stand alone against the Soviet Union. The lack of reaction by Germany to the Soviet ‘agreement’ with Estonia confirmed widely held suspicions about the existence of the secret protocol to the Molotov–Ribbentrop Pact, and on 4 October, Latvia caved in to Soviet pressure. Around 30,000 Soviet troops moved into Latvia over the next few days.

  The issue of Lithuania was far more complex, and Germany and the Soviet Union continued to haggle over the spoils of war. In addition to agreeing spheres of influence in the Baltic States, the secret protocol had outlined a demarcation line in Poland between the two nations. On 25 September, Stalin suggested that the existing agreement should be altered. German forces had seized the area around Lublin, which according to the secret protocol should have passed to the Soviet Union; Stalin now suggested that Germany should retain control of Lublin, and instead the Soviet Union should gain Lithuania. After all, he pointed out, the Red Army was already in Vilnius, and a resolution of the Vilnius question would be far easier if there were no need for a complex set of negotiations involving Germany, Lithuania and the Soviet Union. After a short delay, the Germans agreed on 28 September, though with the proviso that parts of south-west Lithuania would pass to Germany.

  Two days before, the Lithuanian Communist Party – which had no links with Moscow – had issued a proclamation that Germany was intending to occupy Lithuania, and that Lithuania should look to the Soviet Union for its salvation. The day after Germany and the Soviet Union had agreed to divide Lithuania between them, the Lithuanian representative in Moscow, Ladas Natkevičius, was summoned to the Kremlin. Here, Molotov informed him that Stalin wished the Lithuanians to send a senior minister to Moscow for talks. Molotov also stated that Germany would agree to whatever arrangements were made between Lithuania and the Soviet Union, effectively confirming that Lithuania’s two large neighbours had already agreed that Lithuania would be within the Soviet sphere of influence. As had been the case with Estonia and Latvia, it was made clear that time was of the essence, and the meeting concluded with the words of Mikhail Kalinin, the titular Soviet head of state, that the time for a ‘platonic’ relationship was over: ‘To whom are you closer: the Germans or us?’18

  Natkevičius returned to Kaunas for discussions, and in early October headed back to Moscow, followed by the Lithuanian Foreign Minister, Juozas Urbšys. The Germans were becoming nervous that their planned seizure of south-west Lithuania would be perceived as part of a predatory carve-up of a small nation (which is of course exactly what was intended), and asked the Soviet side to avoid discussing the matter with the Lithuanians until after the Soviet Union had already sent troops into Lithuania. They hoped that when the Red Army sent its troops into Lithuania, the south-west portion would be left free of occupying troops, and the Wehrmacht would then be able to secure the area, if necessary claiming that this was to prevent a complete Soviet takeover.

  However, this request came too late; Stalin had met Urbšys on 3 October and informed him that Lithuania had three choices. The first was a mutual assistance pact, in line with the agreements with Estonia and Latvia. The second, not mutually exclusive with the first, was a treaty to return the Vilnius region to Lithuania. The third was a treaty that would result in south-west Lithuania being surrendered to Germany. Urbšys was genuinely shocked by the third suggestion, and declared that any surrender of Lithuanian territory to Germany would be ‘the greatest injustice that one could imagine’.19 Lithuanian suggestions that their declaration of neutrality was sufficient to protect Soviet interests were dismissed. Soviet troops would have to be deployed in Lithuania, insisted Stalin and Molotov. However, Lithuanian independence would be respected. Stalin even suggested that the Soviet troops in Lithuania would be ordered to suppress any communist rising if required.

  Discussions then turned to the Vilnius question. The Lithuanians discovered that they were being offered a far smaller piece of territory than they had expected. Stalin made it clear that any return of territory to Lithuania was dependent on Moscow’s goodwill. The talks concluded without agreement. Lithuania had been forced to return the city of Klaipėda – Memel to the Germans – to Germany earlier in the year, and Urbšys complained that Lithuania now faced even further territorial losses. Stalin’s response showed how skilfully he and Molotov had manoeuvred events: ‘Germany tears away your territory. We, to the contrary are giving to you. What comparison can there be!’20

  On 4 October, Molotov told Schulenburg, the German ambassador, that the question of German occupation of south-west Lithuania had already been raised with the Lithuanian delegation. In a desperate attempt to catch up with events, Berlin now informed the Lithuanians that the return of Vilnius to Lithuania had been at the insistence of Germany, and that the cession of south-west Lithuania to Germany was a small price to pay for this. On 7 October, discussions resumed in Moscow. The Lithuanians were prepared to accept a mutual assistance pact, but did not want Soviet troops on their soil. Molotov responded that Lithuania had to accept the same terms as Estonia and Latvia. His deputy, Vladimir Potemkin, commented that ‘Lithuania is showing no enthusiasm for recovering Vilnius’.21 The linkage of the Vilnius question and Soviet troop deployments was thus made explicit. The Lithuanian delegation paused briefly for private discussions. It was clear that Soviet troops would enter Lithuania regardless of what they did, but at least they would gain Vilnius if they accepted the Soviet pact, so they agreed to sign the treaty establishing a mutual assistance pact, the deployment of 20,000 Soviet troops in Lithuania, and the return of Vilnius.

  It is not clear whether Stalin had always intended to control Lithuania, or whether he merely took advantage of events on the ground, particularly the unwillingness of the Lithuanians to seize Vilnius themselves. In any event, the Soviet leadership demonstrated adept and ruthless opportunism and skill in their manoeuvrings. During all of the complex negotiations
with Germany, Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania, Molotov and Stalin formed a very effective team; Molotov repeatedly acted as the ‘hard man’, while Stalin made conciliatory gestures, such as reducing the numbers of troops to be deployed in the Baltic States. Isolated from the west and denied support from Germany, the three Baltic governments ultimately had no choice but to agree to Stalin’s demands.

  As Soviet garrison troops began to settle into their new billets – in the first months of their stay, they were ordered to keep a low profile – Moscow’s attention turned to Finland. The details of the Winter War22 are beyond the scope of this book, but the protracted fighting and the poor performance of the Red Army left Stalin and his associates fully occupied for the moment. Far too late, the three Baltic States held tentative talks about cooperation, though they were too anxious about Soviet reactions to take any significant military steps. Some of Latvia’s and Estonia’s gold reserves were sent to Britain and the United States, and some of the ambassadors in the west were given powers to assume the role of head of state, should the governments in the home countries be unable to continue to function. Meanwhile, the Baltic States attempted to tiptoe a neutral line in the diplomatic arena. They refused to join western condemnation of the Soviet Union’s attack on Finland in the League of Nations, and abstained in the vote that expelled the Soviet Union from the organisation.

  For Lithuania, there was the added problem of trying to assimilate the Vilnius region. The head of state, Antanas Smetona, was anxious to take credit for the return of the ‘historic capital’ to Lithuania; opponents of the government wished to prevent this, and promoted the idea that Lithuania should be grateful to the Soviet Union rather than to Smetona for the territorial adjustment. Whatever the reaction of most of Lithuania, attitudes in Vilnius itself were far from universally in favour of reunion with Lithuania. The minority status of Lithuanians in Vilnius had actually worsened since the city was seized by Poland, with many Poles migrating into the city and its surrounding area. In addition, Jewish refugees fleeing from the German advance into Poland had further increased its non-Lithuanian population. For the Jews, the choice between German dominance and Soviet dominance was a simple one, and from the very start, Jews in both Latvia and Lithuania were amongst those who were the warmest supporters of the Soviet troops. Even if they regarded the Soviet Union as the lesser of two evils, they were well aware of the treatment of Jews in Germany and Poland by the Germans. Nevertheless, despite this, the attitude of the Jewish population was varied. Undoubtedly, the most vociferous and visible part of the community was composed of those who supported the presence of Soviet troops; however, it seems that they were outnumbered by more conservative elements, who simply wished to be left in peace, though they were conscious that this was far more likely to happen under Soviet control than German. As this conservative majority remained relatively silent, the public perception of Jewish hostility to the Lithuanian state was clearly established in the minds of the Lithuanian population throughout the country.