replied to the British proposal for a Four-Power Declaration, and argued against it. These multilateral negotiations would be very complicated and take time, and there was no time to lose; he therefore suggested the conclusion of a bilateral Polish-British agreement, without prejudice, of course, to any wider subsequent negotiations. What game was Beck playing? Certainly he was becoming distrustful of Hitler, and wished to strengthen his position by securing a British guarantee. At the same time he had no desire to enter into any sort of "defensive front" with the Russians, as this, he argued, might incense the Germans.
In discussing the matter with Gafencu, the Rumanian Foreign Minister, he put forward the view that Hitler would not attack Poland, so long as the latter had not become
involved with Russia; only a Polish-Russian alliance would produce a German invasion of Poland. "Despite the terrible threat hanging over his country, and despite the lesson of Czechoslovakia, Beck persisted in his more than dubious game of backing both horses."
[G. Gafencu, The Last Days of Europe (London, 1945), pp. 203-4.]
In the House of Commons on March 31 Chamberlain made his famous statement on
Poland. A fortnight later he announced that the guarantee to Poland had been extended to Rumania and Greece. As Coulondre says: "The British Government was now crashing ahead so fast that it even rushed past the station at which it should have stopped. It was enough to look at the map of Europe to see what a serious diplomatic situation it had created. Rumania and Poland practically form a continuous front from the Black Sea to the Baltic, a front separating Germany from the USSR. Germany cannot attack Russia
without going through Poland or Rumania, i.e. without bringing into play the Western guarantee, and without going to war against Britain and France. Thus, without having to commit himself, Stalin secured a Western guarantee in the East which he had sought in vain for ten years... It must now have been clear to Hitler that only by coming to an agreement with the USSR could he dodge that double front the day he decided to attack Poland."
[R. Coulondre, op. cit., pp. 263-4.]
"Would it not have been much wiser"—Coulondre asks—"to stick to the Four-Power Declaration, as proposed on March 21, and, if Beck still refused to sign, to go right ahead with that Anglo-French-Soviet alliance which Churchill was demanding with prophetic
foresight, and which the Russians were then prepared to sign? "
On April 1 the Soviet press prominently displayed Chamberlain's guarantee to Poland, but accompanied the story with an account of the House of Commons debate, in which
Arthur Greenwood asked whether the Soviet Union had been brought into it, to which
Chamberlain replied that discussions were in progress with numerous countries,
including the Soviet Union. Three days later, in connection with Beck's visit to London, the Soviet press reported further House of Commons discussions. It reported
Chamberlain as saying that the guarantee to Poland had marked a sharp change in British foreign policy. But already it focused all its attention on what was being said about the Soviet Union and the "trap" the Poles had laid:
Sir Archibald Sinclair said that the Soviet Union held the key to peace in Eastern Europe. British-Soviet cooperation was therefore of the utmost importance.
Mr Lloyd George asked why the British Government had not got Soviet support before entering into these colossal obligations. Britain should tell Poland that she could be helped only on certain conditions. In talking about the Soviet Union,
Chamberlain, Lloyd George said, was merely trying to appease the Opposition. If
Britain did not secure Soviet aid, her help to Poland would merely be a trap.
Mr Hugh Dalton hoped he would soon see some action about the Soviet Union, and not just vapid assurances.
The press reported that, according to a public opinion poll in Britain, eighty-four percent of the people now wanted close cooperation with the Soviet Union; but, it added, there was nothing to show that the Government was following suit. If the Labour and Liberal press were now saying that no resistance to German aggression could be effective
without the Soviet Union, The Times and the Daily Telegraph were still beating about the bush, assuring Germany that no "encirclement" was contemplated, and trying to draw fine distinctions between Polish independence and Polish territorial integrity. " The Times", Pravda wrote on April 10, "is trying to suggest that this is a return to collective security; but it is not, if only because the Poles are still talking about 'holding the balance'."
All the same, something seemed at last to be stirring in Britain, and there was already much talk of conscription—which was, indeed, to be introduced at the end of April. But for a fortnight after the announcement of the guarantee to Poland, no new proposals came to Moscow from the West—or vice versa. It was not till April 15 that the British Foreign Office came forward with a proposal to the Russians that they give Poland, Rumania and other European states a unilateral guarantee against German aggression—in case these countries desired such help. It was for these countries to decide what kind of help would be convenient to them. This was unacceptable to Moscow.
More constructive, from the Soviet point of view, was a simultaneous French proposal for a joint Soviet-French declaration based on mutual assistance to each other, as well as to Rumania and Poland. The Soviet Government apparently sensed Daladier's dislike of the guarantee to Poland which Chamberlain had forced on him and which made him
prefer the Russian alliance. So, "in order to coordinate the various British, French and Soviet proposals", the Soviet Government now came forward with the proposal for a straight Anglo-Franco-Soviet alliance, to be signed for a period of five or ten years. This alliance would provide that they undertake to render each other every help, including military help, in the event of an aggression in Europe on any of the three signatories, and also to render similar help to all East-European countries bordering on the Soviet Union between the Baltic and the Black Sea.
"This offer", Coulondre wrote, "was almost undreamed of at the time." He thought this was a tremendous step in the right direction, and attributed it to the fact that Litvinov, the
"collective security man", with his obvious predeliction for the West, was still in charge of Soviet foreign policy. In actual fact such a proposal could not have been made simply on Litvinov's initiative. But the Chamberlain Government turned down the Soviet
proposal which—Coulondre argued—could have still saved the day had it been seized
with both hands.
Instead of accepting the Soviet proposal, the British Government started producing—in Coulondre's phrase—more and more sophisticated formulae, the purpose of which was to provide Soviet guarantees to countries that did not even want them. The British
Government made it indeed clear, in a Note addressed to the French Government, that the various objections raised by Poland made any agreement with the Soviet Union very
difficult.
[R. Coulondre, op. cit., p. 263.]
The "undreamed of offer" had been made by Russia—and had been rejected. A new approach was needed. It had now become necessary to give Soviet foreign policy not
only a more flexible and opportunist character, but also to give it the maximum authority.
And Molotov's position in the Party was second only to Stalin's. Just as in May 1941, with a German invasion threatening, Stalin was to take over the Premiership, so in May 1939, with Europe on the brink of war, Molotov took over the Foreign Commissariat.
Litvinov was temperamentally a "Westerner"—but he had received poor thanks from the West. As a Jew, he had been fiercely abused by the Germans for years. He was ill-suited for any new departures that might now become necessary for Soviet foreign policy. In the eyes of the Party he no longer carried sufficient authority, especially after the rejection by London of the Soviet Plan of April 17.
There was no perceptible change in the tone of the Soviet press or in officia
l utterances after Molotov had become Foreign Commissar. The press continued to report the great
success in England and elsewhere of Russian anti-Nazi films like Professor Mamlock and Alexander Nevsky; patriotic speeches continued to be made about the might of the Red Army which would "smash any aggressor on his own territory if he ever dared attack the Soviet Union"
[ Thus, at the graduation ceremony of the Red Army academies on May 7—a ceremony
attended by Stalin, Molotov, Voroshilov, Khrushchev, Bulganin, Zhdanov and others,
Kalinin declared: "Our people are convinced that, with an Army like ours, they can peacefully go on building and developing the Soviet state, a classless socialist society and communism. The international situation demands from you a state of constant
preparedness. I hope you will fully justify the confidence our people have placed in you."
And Colonel Rodimtsev, Hero of the Soviet Union (and a future hero of Stalingrad), said at the same meeting: "We swear to carry out the order of Comrade Voroshilov to smash any aggressor on his own territory..."] and the press continued to publish ominous little items like this one in Pravda (May 16):
HITLER'S VISIT OF INSPECTION.
Berlin, May 15 (TASS). Hitler today left for the Western frontier to inspect the so-called Siegfried Line. He was accompanied by staff officers and by Himmler, the
head of the Gestapo.
Was this meant to suggest that Hitler might, indeed, turn on the West and that the Soviet Union and not the West had better hurry and join forces? At any rate, even a month after Molotov's appointment Nazi Germany was still treated as No. 1 Danger.
When the Supreme Soviet met at the end of May, A. G. Zverev, the Commissar for
Finance, declared amid loud cheers that the expenditure on defence would be increased from twenty-three milliard roubles in 1938 to forty-one milliard roubles in 1939. "The stronger we are," he said, "the better will be the chances that peace will not be disturbed, and that the Fascist aggressors will not dare attack our country." This could only mean Nazi Germany.
In its comments on this vast increase in military expenditure, Pravda (May 27) was full of the usual bluster:
This figure of 40,885 million roubles means new guns, fast new planes, powerful new tanks... With such a mighty Red Army we can calmly look into the future, knowing
that no provocation by our foreign enemies can catch us unawares. We can calmly
go ahead with our third Five-Year-Plan... Provided with the most perfect equipment in the world, our Red Army will smash any enemy or any enemies, no matter where
they come from.
This was clearly intended as a warning to both Japan and Germany.
One of the most important landmarks during that grim summer was Molotov's survey of
the international situation before the Supreme Soviet on May 31.
He was highly critical of Britain and France, but the speech was, above all, an attack on Germany. After recalling the disasters that the Munich policy had already brought on Europe, Molotov said:
The aggressive powers today are becoming more and more arrogant. On the other
hand, the representatives of the democratic countries, having turned their backs on collective security, and having adopted a policy of non-resistance to aggression, are now trying to minimise the grave deterioration of the international situation.
Until very recently, Molotov continued, the responsible leaders of France and Britain were happily contemplating the success of the ill-fated Munich settlement.
But what was the result? Germany wasn't satisfied with getting the Sudeten
country, and simply proceeded to liquidate one of the Slav countries,
Czechoslovakia... This just shows what non-interference produces... And, after that, the aggressor nations continued as before; in April, Germany grabbed Memel from
Lithuania, and Italy finished off Albania. Things went from bad to worse: in April, too, the head of the German State destroyed the Anglo-German naval agreement
and the Polish-German non-aggression pact... Such was Germany's answer to the
proposal of President Roosevelt, a proposal imbued with the spirit of peace.
He then referred to the new political and military treaty between Germany and Italy
which, he said, was "aggressive by its very nature".
In the past, these two countries pretended to be concerned with their joint battle against communism. Hence all the fuss about the Anti-Comintern Pact. Now the
camouflage has been dropped... Both the leaders and the press of the two countries openly talk about the new treaty being directed against the main European
democracies...
Although there were now some signs that the non-aggressive countries were at last
beginning to favour a front against aggression, it still remained to be seen how serious this change of heart really was. "It may well be that these countries may like to stop aggression in some areas, but will not interfere with aggression in other areas." And Molotov brought in that Stalin quote about the "chestnuts" and about the need to beware of provocateurs who might try to drag the Soviet Union into war.
He, clearly, continued to be very hostile to Germany, but was also extremely distrustful of Britain and France; but even so, he said, "There are some signs that the democratic countries have become aware of the utter collapse of their non-intervention policy, and of the need of creating a single front of the peaceful powers against aggression. The British-Polish Pact is a new element in Europe, all the more so as Germany has torn up her pact with Poland... And there is also a tendency among the non-aggressive European powers to seek the collaboration of the USSR in organising resistance to aggression." That was why, he said, the Soviet Government had accepted the proposal of Britain and France to open negotiations for the purpose of strengthening the relations between these three countries, and for organising a peace front against any further development of aggression.
"We entered into these negotiations with France and Britain in mid-April. These talks have not yet been concluded. But from the outset we realised that if there is really a desire to create an effective front of peace-loving countries against aggression, then the minimum conditions to be fulfilled are these:
1) There must be a purely defensive, but effective mutual assistance pact between Britain, France and the Soviet Union;
2) There must be guarantees by all three Powers to the countries bordering on the Soviet Union, and to other countries in Central and Eastern Europe;
3) There must be concrete agreements between the three about the immediate and
effective aid to be rendered in the event of aggression against either of them or against the countries guaranteed by them."
Having elaborated at some length on the perplexities of pact-making for the protection of the many frontiers so precariously maintained between the Baltic and the Black Sea and between the Soviet Union and Nazi Germany, Molotov introduced another motif into his discourse which was like an echo of Stalin's speech of March 10.
Such are our talks with Britain and France. That does not mean that we intend to
break off business relations with countries like Germany and Italy. At the beginning of 1938 Germany offered us a new credit of 200 million marks; but since no
agreement followed, the question of this credit was dropped. However, at the end of 1938 the German Government again raised the question of economic talks, and of
the 200 million marks credit. The Germans were ready to make certain concessions, and their Foreign Trade Ministry said that Herr Schnurre would come to Moscow.
But instead it. was decided that Ambassador Schulenburg would conduct the talks.
Since there were some disagreements, the talks broke down. But now there are signs that the talks may be resumed. We also signed recently a profitable trade agreement with Italy...
In conclusion, Molotov said that relations with Poland had "improved"; that relations with T
urkey were "good", and that he had recently warned the Japanese Ambassador that the Soviet Union would defend both her own frontiers and those of the Mongolian
People's Republic against any Japanese-Manchurian aggression.
The Soviet Union is not what it was, say in 1921, though even some of our
neighbours seem to have forgotten it. Nor is the Soviet Union what it was ten, or even five years ago; its strength is far greater. In spite of delays and hesitations, some democracies are becoming conscious of this simple truth; yet in any front of the peaceful powers resisting aggression the Soviet Union cannot but hold a place in the front rank.
What Molotov had said about trade talks with Germany did not, on the face of it, amount to much; it might have been meant as a mild warning to the West, where some of
Chamberlain's close associates still considered "trade talks" with Germany to be their best hope of resuming an appeasement policy. Molotov was, of course, aware of the long-standing tug-of-war going on in Britain, below and above the surface, inside and outside the Tory Party, between the advocates and the opponents of a pact with the Soviet Union.
Until further notice the Soviet press maintained a fairly consistent anti-Nazi line, playing the "Western" card. On June 9 Tass reported from London Chamberlain's statement in the House of Commons on the Franco-British-Soviet talks; there was, Chamberlain had said, a common point of view about the main features of the intended agreement, and to speed up the talks H.M. Government had decided to send to Moscow a representative of the
Foreign Office. This was the beginning of the "Strang Mission". Special prominence was given to influential utterances in Britain in favour of a pact with the Soviet Union, notably to Churchill's article in the Daily Telegraph on June 9. Churchill even went so far as to advocate a joint guarantee to the Baltic States and Finland, and declared that such a pact was as much in the interests of the Soviet Union as it was in the interests of France and Britain. But, said Churchill, there was no time to lose.
At the same time, the Soviet papers continued to carry numerous stories about "German looting in Czechoslovakia" (Hubert Ripka in the Spectator quoted by Pravda on June 9),
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