Stalin

by Ian Grey

  In October 1943, the Red Army crossed the Dnieper at various points. Kiev was liberated on November 6 and Zhitomir two days later. The advance was less spectacular in the north, but on September 25, Smolensk was retaken and Moscow was freed completely from the threat of attack. By the end of 1943, the Red Army had recovered more than half the territory conquered by the Germans in their great eastward advance of 1941–42. But most of Belorussia, the western Ukraine, and the Baltic region were still in German hands.

  As the Russians pushed westward, liberating lands occupied by the Germans, they uncovered evidence of the unbelievable savagery and inhumanity of the German treatment of prisoners of war and the civilian population. Reports of enemy atrocities had been published since early in the war, but the liberation of vast territories revealed the terrible scale of German barbarity. The Russians, although inured to purges and forced labor camps, were inflamed with a bitter hatred of the enemy.

  Russian prisoners had been deliberately starved to death. This followed from the instructions that German troops were to feed off the land and that all possible food surpluses must be sent to Germany where rationing was severe. But this extermination policy was justified also on the grounds that Russians were Üntermenschen, an inferior species to be treated as animals, and that the “Jewish-Bolshevik system” must be destroyed.

  It has been calculated that between June 1941 and May 1944 the Germans took 5,160,000 prisoners in Russia. Of them 1,053,000 were finally liberated. But more than 3,750,000 men were exterminated in massacres, by starvation, and by exposure. Penned together in the open air without shelter of any kind and without food, they quickly perished in the cruel cold of autumn and winter. The number of Russian civilians, including women and children, killed in similar ways, certainly exceeded this figure; the full toll will never be known.

  Kharkov, the first large city to be liberated, had a population normally of some 900,000, which had been swollen to some 1.3 million by the influx of people fleeing before the invaders. As the Germans approached, thousands fled farther to the east. Some 700,000 were in the city when it was captured and only half of them survived. Of the others, 120,000, mainly young people, were sent to Germany as slave labor. Between 70,000 and 80,000 died of hunger and exposure. Some 30,000, including 16,000 Jews, were executed. Orel’s population of 114,000 was no more than 30,000 on liberation. The Germans had murdered some 12,000 and had sent more than 20,000 away as slave labor.

  Every occupied Russian city, town, and village suffered the same grim fate. The Jews were the first to be killed and then the Russians were dealt with in various brutal ways. At Babyi Yar, near Kiev, 100,000 Jews were massacred. The Germans concentrated their fiendishness on the Jews and Russians. They treated the Ukrainians and the Muslims differently, regarding them as actual or potential enemies of the Soviet regime. Belatedly, toward the end of 1942, they made some attempt to modify their treatment of Russian prisoners of war, offering them the alternatives of death by starvation or other means, or service in the Russian Army of Liberation, known as the Vlasov Army. Most Russians refused to serve under Andrey Vlasov and chose death. A few in Dachau and other concentration camps managed to survive.

  Against this background, Stalin ordered draconian measures to apply to all Russian prisoners of war who survived capture and German treatment, against Russian civilians who survived, and against Ukrainians and all Muslim nationalities. He knew that there were dissident elements among the Russians who had escaped the mesh of his purges and who could be cajoled or coerced by the enemy to fight against Soviet Russia. All Red Army officers and men knew the fate of shooting or starvation as Üntermenschen that awaited them, if they allowed themselves to be taken captive by the Germans. This was constantly publicized among them. He could not believe that any Russian would lay down his arms and surrender on such terms. It followed that every Russian, especially an officer, taken prisoner was considered to have “voluntarily surrendered to the enemy”; he had betrayed his country; he was a coward or a potential or actual collaborator, who deserved his fate. If he survived, he was considered to be devoid of pride and patriotism, or there was presumed to be some sinister anti-Soviet reason for his survival. This was the stark reasoning for the treatment of Russians who were liberated or returned by some other means. They were interrogated. They had to explain why they had allowed themselves to be captured instead of fighting to the death. Usually, they were sent to labor camps, and their families were punished by a two-year term of imprisonment.

  Yakov, Stalin’s son by his first marriage, whom he had virtually disowned for some unknown reason, had entered the Frunze Military Academy in 1935. He was a senior lieutenant in the Fourteenth Howitzer Regiment and went with his unit to the Belorussian Front the day after war started. In July 1941, he was taken prisoner. Stalin, with his obsessive suspicion, refused to believe that even Yakov had been so dishonorable as to surrender. He seized on the idea that someone must have tricked or betrayed him. He came to believe that Iulya, Yakov’s wife, was guilty. She was arrested in autumn 1941 and held in prison until spring 1943. The Germans identified Yakov and tried to make propaganda of the fact that he was in their hands, but Stalin refused to cooperate in any way.

  Toward the end of the winter of 1943–44, after the Battle of Stalingrad, Svetlana paid one of her rare visits to her father. He told her then that “the Germans have proposed that we exchange one of their prisoners for Yasha. They want me to make a deal with them. I won’t do it! War is war!” She added: “I could tell by his tone that he was upset. He wouldn’t say another word about it.”

  In summer 1945, when the war was over, and she was making another of her rare visits, he spoke again of Yakov. “The Germans shot Yasha,” he said. “I had a letter of condolence from a Belgian officer.” She observed that he spoke with an effort and did not want to say any more. Svetlana, who loved her half brother, felt that after his death her father felt some warmth for this son and realized that he had been harsh and unfair. But she wrote, too, that “it was very like my father to wash his hands of members of his own family, to wipe them out of his mind and act as if they didn’t exist.”

  Civilians taken prisoner by the invaders were on their liberation required to account for their activities under the German occupation and to explain why they had survived when so many others had been massacred or had perished. Thousands of civilians escaped as the enemy approached and joined the partisan or guerrilla movement. Stalin had ordered the formation of mass partisan opposition to the enemy.

  Brave men and women formed partisan groups, operating behind the enemy lines. They endured terrible hardships and perished in large numbers, but in many places, they made conditions insupportable to the enemy. They were defending the motherland, while those who were simply captured contributed nothing and were perhaps actively or passively on the side of the enemy. The nation was fighting for survival. There was no time to consider the problems of individuals. All must be prepared to fight and die.

  As the Germans advanced southward and into the Caucasus, Stalin showed increasing concern about the loyalty of the Cossacks and the Muslims. In the early stages of the war, after the loss of the western Ukraine and the Baltic states, the fighting had taken place mainly in east Ukrainian and Great Russian territory, where the people, if not always enthusiastically pro-Soviet, were loyal to Russia. But Stalin was alert to the dangers of disaffection. In August 1941, he had as a precaution deported the Volga Germans to Kazakhstan and northern Siberia.

  The Cossacks since the early days of the Muscovite state had been unpredictable in their loyalties. They had, however, in the nineteenth century shown steady allegiance to the tsars, and they were known for their brutal suppression of peasant revolts, workers’ demonstrations, and other forms of internal unrest. The Cossacks, like the Muslims of the Caucasus and Central Asia and the Tatars of the Crimea, had suffered during the collectivization campaign and had reason to be anti-Soviet.

  The Germans, overestimating the ex
tent of the latent disaffection among the Cossacks, tried ineffectually to organize them in an anti-Soviet movement. The Cossacks were exempted from Üntermensch status and were encouraged to enlist in the German Army. By late 1943, some 20,000 Cossacks, or men calling themselves Cossacks, were fighting in German-sponsored units. This was, however, only a very small percentage of the Cossack population of the Kuban, Terek, and the Don, most of whom staunchly resisted the Germans.

  Toward the Muslims, the Germans pursued a benign, almost paternalistic policy. The Karachai, Balkars, Ingush, Chechen, Kalmucks, and Tatars of the Crimea all displayed pro-German sympathies in some degree. It was only the hurried withdrawal of the Germans from the Caucasus after the Battle of Stalingrad that prevented their organizing the Muslims for effective anti-Soviet action. The Germans boasted loudly, however, that they had left a strong “fifth column” behind them in the Caucasus.

  The fact that the Muslims were prepared to betray Soviet Russia infuriated Stalin, and he was absolutely ruthless in eradicating any possible “fifth column” which might imperil the rear of the Red Army. He was determined also that they should never enjoy the fruits of victory and that they should be punished. By decrees of the Supreme Soviet at the end of 1943 and in the spring of 1944, the Muslim communities were uprooted and deported to the east. The decrees were carried out with such brutality that the six nationalities were almost liquidated.

  Stalin, Churchill, and Roosevelt met together for the first time in Teheran toward the end of November 1943. In Churchill’s words, the meeting “probably represented the greatest concentration of worldly power that had ever been seen in the history of mankind.” They discussed their immediate war strategy and the postwar settlement to ensure peace and stability in talks that were frank but amiable and gave promise of close understanding and cooperation in the years ahead.

  Anglo-Soviet relations had been under severe strain since Churchill’s visit to Moscow in August of the previous year. He had then told Stalin that there would be no Second Front in 1942. This allied decision had been followed by shortfalls in armament deliveries by the North Russian convoys. The British Navy had gravely mishandled Convoy PQ 17 in what Churchill described as “one of the most melancholy naval episodes in the whole war.” In a letter dated July 17, Churchill stated that the convoys would be suspended for a time, and Stalin responded angrily. He wrote a letter on July 23, 1942, which, far from being “rough and surly,” as Churchill described it, was a blunt but dignified protest, made at a time when the Red Army was threatened with a devastating defeat at Stalingrad and desperately needed Allied supplies.

  Churchill’s visit had led to better understanding at the time, but, notwithstanding the prime minister’s vehement assurances, Stalin had remained suspicious that the British were leaving the fighting for as long as possible to the Russians. His suspicion sharpened, and Anglo-Russian relations declined further, as the battle for Stalingrad approached. Wendell Willkie, visiting Moscow as the president’s personal representative, suggested that the United States had been willing to launch the Second Front in 1942, but that Churchill and the British military staff had raised obstacles. Soon after his departure, Soviet propaganda organs started an anti-British campaign. It reflected the deep disappointment of Russians over the absence of the Second Front. Britain was also a convenient scapegoat for the Russian defeats suffered as the invader had swept across Russia toward Stalingrad. Stalin publicly stated that “help from the Allies to the Soviet Union had so far been of little effect,” and demanded “the full and timely fulfilment by the Allies of their obligations.” He was prompt to welcome the Allied North African landing, about which Churchill had given him advance notice. He paid generous tribute to the “first-class organizers who had accomplished this difficult military operation.” But this was not the Second Front.

  Victory at Stalingrad brought some relief from the terrible anxiety which had weighed upon Stalin. He became more cordial toward his allies. The North African campaign and the bombing of Germany showed that they were no longer inactive. But as the crucial battle of the Kursk salient approached, his anxiety mounted. Russians everywhere were loudly critical of the Allies for failing to open the Second Front.

  In his Order of the Day on May 1, 1943, Stalin referred in warm terms to the Allied victory in North Africa on which he had sent congratulatory messages to Churchill and Roosevelt, and to the bombing of Germany as “heralding the formation of a Second Front in Europe.” This was for all Russians the overriding need. An official statement, issued on the second anniversary of the German invasion, went so far as to declare that “without a Second Front, victory over Germany is impossible.” Rumors that the Germans had approached the Allies with proposals for a separate peace intensified Russian suspicions. Stalin had in his Order of the Day on May 1, 1943, denounced German talk of peace and rumors in the Western press, “as though it is not clear that only the complete destruction of the Hitlerite armies and the unconditional surrender of Hitlerite Germany can bring Europe to peace.”

  At this time, Stalin dissolved the Comintern. It had always represented for the Western powers the direct threat of militant communism. He had inherited the Comintern from Lenin, who had founded it in 1919 as the organ for fomenting world revolution. To Stalin, the opponent of internationalism and author of “socialism in one country,” the Comintern was an encumbrance, and at this critical time, it was inimical to Russian interests. He explained that its abolition was “correct and timely.” It would put an end to lies spread by Nazi propaganda, that the Russian Communist party interfered in the affairs of other countries and conspired “to Bolshevize them.” It would facilitate the work of freedom-loving countries, irrespective of political and religious beliefs, in joining together in the struggle against fascism. The disbanding of the Comintern was welcomed in the West as clearing the way for real understanding with Soviet Russia.

  While official Soviet references to the Allies were cordial in the early months of 1943, Stalin’s letters to Churchill and Roosevelt were forthright. He was critical of Anglo-American delays in the North African campaign, as a result of which “the Germans transferred twenty-seven divisions, including five Panzer divisions, from France, Belgium, Holland and Germany herself to the Soviet-German front.” He was not enthusiastic about the proposed landing in Sicily, which “cannot replace the Second Front in France.” He reminded them that the Second Front had been admitted as a possibility in 1942 and as a firm expectation in spring 1943, and emphasized the urgent need to launch the operation not later than the early summer.

  In May 1943, the buildup for the gigantic trial of strength at Kursk was reaching its climax. Stalin was tense as he waited for the Germans to open their offensive. At this critical time, Churchill and Roosevelt informed him that the Anglo-American Second Front had to be postponed until spring 1944. Stalin exploded in anger. He was massing at Kursk a force of men and heavy armaments far greater than was required for the invasion of France, but these two mighty industrial powers constantly made excuses for delaying this crucial invasion. He saw the latest postponement as an act of blatant bad faith. In his letter of May 24, he stated firmly that “the preservation of our confidence in the Allies is being subjected to severe stress.”

  Victory at Kursk relieved the pressure on Stalin. The Second Front was no longer a matter of life and death. His mistrust of the Allies was, however, deep-rooted, and no man was more tenacious in harboring mistrust. At the same time, he was earnestly seeking a real understanding with them, believing that peace and world stability after the war would depend on the three powers remaining united. Primarily for this reason, he was eager to have an early meeting. He had declined, however, proposals that they should meet early in 1943 on the grounds that he could not be away from Moscow and the conduct of military operations. This explanation was regarded with skepticism by the Allies, who did not appreciate that as supreme commander he was directing the Russian war effort personally. In August, Stalin stated that a confere
nce of the three heads of government was “absolutely desirable” and agreed that an exploratory meeting of foreign ministers should take place in Moscow in October.

  Relations with Britain nevertheless worsened further in the autumn of 1943. The North Russian convoys had been suspended since March. Russia still had urgent need of Allied supplies. Molotov sent through the British ambassador a peremptory demand for the resumption of convoys. Churchill promised to send four convoys, the first to sail on November 12, but as always, his undertakings were hedged with a complex of provisos.

  Churchill for his part demanded relaxation of the restrictions imposed on British naval personnel serving in North Russia. This demand offended Stalin. He responded so sharply that Churchill refused to accept his reply and returned it personally to the Soviet ambassador. Stalin objected, with some justice, that there were already too many British naval personnel in North Russia. He expressed his real objection frankly to Eden, which was, as Eden reported, “that if only our [British] people had treated his people as equals, none of these difficulties would have arisen, and if our people would treat his people as equals we could have as much personnel as we liked.”

  The foreign ministers’ conference, held in Moscow from October 19 until November 1, was cordial. Eden and American representative Cordell Hull welcomed the opportunity to discuss postwar policies with Stalin and Molotov. Hull was especially pleased with an agreed statement, which was an important step toward a United Nations organization. He had feared that Russia might become isolationist after the war, and Stalin had the same fear about the United States. Eden and Hull both reported that the conference had provided real evidence that Soviet Russia wanted continued friendship and cooperation with Britain and the United States.