Stalin

by Ian Grey

  Stalin had become convinced after the Potsdam conference that Soviet Russia was threatened. American imperialism confronted it in the west, the Far East, and the south. The United States was a super-power economically and militarily; Russia was in no condition to stand against or compete with it.

  Fourteen years earlier, Stalin had declared: “The history of old Russia was, among other things, that she was constantly beaten because of her backwardness.” The danger now was that, weak and backward as a result of the war, Russia would be beaten yet again. He was determined that this would not happen.

  Russia had triumphed in the war and emerged as the world’s second great power. Twice before in its history - after Peter the Great’s victory at Poltava in 1709 and after the defeat of Napoleon in 1812 - Russia had gained a similar great power status. In each period, it had relapsed into weakness. He would permit no relapse this time. Soviet Russia would rebuild its shattered economy by its own efforts and remain a great power.

  On August 19, 1945 - significantly a few days after the dropping of the atom bomb on Hiroshima - Stalin gave orders to Gosplan to prepare a reconstruction program. The result was the Fourth Five-year Plan, adopted by the Supreme Soviet on March 18, 1946. The plan laid down priorities and prescribed an astonishing tempo for postwar development. Heavy industry had first priority as the basis for the complete reconstruction of the economy and for a strong and permanent armament industry.

  The plan called for an overall increase in industrial output by 1950 of 48 percent above prewar levels. It specified new construction and output to be achieved in each branch of heavy industry. The planned increases in the consumer industries and agriculture were comparatively modest. The targets to be achieved within five years appeared impossibly high for a country devastated by war and a people who had suffered terrible casualties and who continued to endure food and housing shortages and austere living conditions. Moreover, the work had to be carried out entirely within their own resources, except for the contribution made by reparations.

  The plan included provision for the first stage of Stalin’s twenty-year naval construction program. He was determined to resume his prewar policy which would ensure that Russia had a navy in keeping with great power status. With a planned delivery of some 200,000 tons of warships annually, the Navy was to have 1,200 submarines, 175 destroyers, thirty-five cruisers as well as battle cruisers and aircraft carriers. In the years 1945–50, however, the main danger appeared to arise from the massive amphibious assault capacity of the American and British navies. America’s monopoly of nuclear weapons posed a grim threat, but it was not seen as so immediate because of the lack at this stage of an adequate delivery system. Priority was therefore given to coastal defense forces. By the end of the 1940s, however, Stalin had resumed his prewar program of creating an ocean-going navy.

  The plan called for heroic endeavor and bore the stamp of Stalin’s implacable determination. He was driven still by the vision of Soviet industrial output exceeding that of the West and particularly of the United States. This long-term goal, he explained at the beginning of 1946, would require “perhaps three new five-year plans, if not more,” and he stressed that the target figures for steel, coal, and oil had to be achieved within the current plan. Again, as in the first industrialization campaign, he was presenting the Russian people with a challenge which, driven by his will, they had to meet.

  The achievements in the plan period were remarkable, although greatly exaggerated by Soviet propaganda. Progress in the first year was hampered by severe drought and by the many problems of resettling and retraining labor in difficult conditions. Indeed, compared with 1945, overall industrial output fell by 17 percent in 1946. Thereafter, output mounted rapidly. The investment plan for 1946–50 was reported to have been surpassed by 22 percent. In the Ukraine, where enemy destruction had been almost total, mineral output reached the 1940 level; the great Dnieper Dam was rebuilt and by March 1947 was generating electricity, and industries producing consumer goods also achieved impressive increases in output. By 1950, the Soviet industrial system was stronger than before the war, and it was also ready for the arms race then beginning. The recovery in agriculture was, however, disastrously slow.

  Inseparable from the reconstruction of the Soviet economy was the need to safeguard and entrench the rule of the Communist party. Stalin believed that the party, too, was vulnerable. It was challenged by the capitalist camp, and it was endangered internally. He saw the possibility of a serious threat in the fact that so many Red Army officers and men had seen with their own eyes the wealth of Western countries. They would make unfavorable comparisons with conditions in Russia, which had not yet attained these standards. Stories of Western life would spread among the people, who were expecting to enjoy the rewards of victory. A dangerous discontent might spread among them, and war-weariness might lead to apathy. In the past, the Russian people had been prone after a period of great national effort to slip into idleness. He would not allow any such decline. At this time, they must redouble their efforts and labor to build a Russia with economic and military strength greater than ever before. Only then would they enjoy the rewards of victory.

  Another danger was that Western liberal ideas might have infected some among the many thousands of Russians who had had contact with the West. This infection could lead to subversive movements which would undermine the party. In the previous century, after the defeat of Napoleon, officers and men of the imperial army who had marched into France had, on their return, spread discontent and unrest. Moreover, many officers had been inflamed by liberal ideas. The leading Decembrists, whose rebellion had shaken the autocracy in 1825, had been young officers carried away by ideas of Western reforms. Stalin could recall from his own experience how the Bolsheviks, a small minority inspired by Marxist dogma imported from the West, had seized power in 1917. Mindful always of the lessons of history, he was on the watch for the least sign of such alienation.

  In the great postwar reconstruction, the party itself would be the powerful weapon against subversion and apathy. It had grown impressively in membership during the war. Some 2 million members had been admitted in 1942 alone. This growth had been encouraged as part of a policy of broadening the base of the party, particularly by recruiting within the armed forces. War casualties had decimated membership. By the beginning of 1945, however, there were 5,760,369 members, and by October 1, 1952, the figure was 6,882,145. The Komsomol, or Young Communists, had numbered 15 million in October 1945. The figure had dropped to some 9 million in March 1949, but by August 1952, it was about 16 million.

  The policy of mass recruiting had the purpose of restoring confidence in the party among the people and in the armed forces after the calamities of the first months of the war. But this growth had brought changes in the character of the membership. The priority given to enlisting proletarian and peasant members had been abandoned in the 1930s. But mass recruitment had led to an increase in the number of factory workers and peasants in key positions of authority, able to encourage and drive the people toward attainment of the plan targets.

  Stalin himself attached importance to the recruitment of the new generation of intelligentsia. He had consistently advanced this new Soviet elite since before the war, and he looked on them as the coming leaders. This policy was strikingly reflected in the postwar membership of the party. By 1952, between a third and a half of the members were under thirty-five and about three-quarters were under forty-five. The old generation had been almost totally eliminated by time, by the war, and not least, by the purges.

  A renewed emphasis on the role of the party was notable in a speech which Stalin made on February 9, 1946, the day before the elections for the new Supreme Soviet. Only five months earlier, on September 2, 1945, in an address to the nation on the surrender of Japan, he had spoken as a fervent patriot, exulting over the recovery of Russia’s Far Eastern possessions, and he had not mentioned the party or communism. But on February 9, 1946, his speech dwelt on Mar
xism and the role of the party. Crisis in the capitalist camp had caused World War I, and a further crisis had erupted in World War II. For the Russian people, the recent war had been a tragedy, but it had also been “a great school of experience and testing,” which had proved the strength of the social and state system of the Soviet Union and of its armed forces. The nation would be prepared for new challenges in the future.

  Victory would be won not by bravery alone. It required a strong armament industry and ample supplies of every kind. The industrialization program had proved its value, and he quoted examples of wartime output to support his claim. Then, giving the main target figures, he expounded the party’s plan to raise industrial and agricultural production to new heights. He spoke gravely, without needing to raise his voice to give expression to his iron will, and his speech was punctuated constantly by enthusiastic applause. He ended with an expression of gratitude to the people for their faith in him, and this brought an impassioned ovation.

  Stalin’s position was supreme and beyond challenge. He was prime minister and also, in effect, general secretary of the party. He felt no need to convene the All-Union Party Congress, which under the statutes was the source of all authority and was required to meet every three years. No congress had met since 1939, and another was convened only in October 1952. The Plenum of the Central Committee met seldom. The Politburo met rarely in formal session, but most of its members gathered fairly regularly at the dacha in Kuntsevo.

  Since the Battle of Stalingrad, the Soviet press and other media had extolled Stalin as the great leader and father of the nation. Every time his name was mentioned, it was as “our beloved father,” “our dear guide and teacher,” “our dear and well-beloved Stalin,” and “the greatest leader of all times and of all peoples.” There was no limit to the acclamations in what came to be known as “the personality cult.” Although he lived and worked most of the time at his dacha in Kuntsevo, a window in the Kremlin always remained lit throughout the night. Anyone walking on Red Square could see it and know that, as reiterated by the radio, “He lives, thinks, and works for us.” He was already a myth, a god.

  On July 29, 1952, Pravda, describing events on “Aviation Day” at Tushino airport, reported: “Two o’clock in the afternoon. Comrade I. V. Stalin ascends the governmental rostrum, hailed by cheers which for a long time refuse to abate. The Soviet people welcome the appearance of the wise leader, the great educator, the inspired strategist. Comrade Stalin cordially salutes the crowd. The ovations grow stronger, expressing the unlimited devotion and ardent love of the Soviet people for Joseph Vissarionovich Stalin. . . . Hundreds of thousands of people greet Stalin in a transport of enthusiasm. . . .”

  A small figure on the rostrum, remote from the vast crowd, Stalin accepted this adulation on the few special occasions when he felt obliged to appear before the people. He authorized and condoned this public worship, which had mounted in a dramatic crescendo since the war. It was necessary in support of his power and position. It was like the rich panoply of church and state which had surrounded the tsars, elevating them above everyday life and enveloping them in majesty and power. But, while accepting such demonstrations of loyalty and the paeans of praise, he was detached and uninfluenced. He took nothing for granted, not even the loyalty of the people. They had been loyal to the tsar, but then they had rejected him. It could happen to him, to any national leader. With his gnawing mistrust and his reading of history, he believed that real or potential enemies were always lurking among them.

  While in his public appearances he acknowledged the extravagant tributes paid to him, in his personal relations with people, he behaved with modesty and dignity. Averell Harriman wrote: “Publicly Stalin had permitted the most abject adulation of himself and accepted without hesitation every tribute and gift offered him, believing it was good propaganda. But privately he combined great dignity with an almost unpretentious modesty. In 1942 when I accompanied Churchill to Moscow to see him, we found him wearing for the first time the uniform of Marshal of the Soviet Union, a title he had just assumed. Churchill admired the uniform and congratulated Stalin on his elevation, but Stalin brushed the compliment aside with an unassuming manner. “They said I ought to accept the position of head of the armed forces in order to improve the morale of the troops,” he said modestly. Just who “they” were was not made clear.”

  Modesty and dignity, combined with professionalism, were the qualities he had always admired. He had sought to inculcate them in the new generation of the Soviet elite. Among the Allied leaders, the men he had particularly respected were the American General Marshall and the two British service chiefs Alan Brooke and Tedder, who embodied these qualities. With his own people, he was severe when they displayed a lack of modesty. Zhukov was, he recognized, the most outstanding among the Soviet commanders, and he had received the fullest public recognition. But Zhukov, a strong, ebullient personality, was at times boastful. At a meeting of the Supreme Military Council in 1946, over which Stalin presided, he castigated “one of our most important soldiers [presumably Zhukov] for immodesty, unjustified conceit, and megalomania.”

  Zhukov’s removal from the office of deputy supreme commander in March 1946 and his relegation to comparatively minor commands were probably due in large part to this defect in character. Stalin retained most of his senior commanders in high offices. Vasilevsky was made chief of general staff in November 1948 and Minister of Defense four months later. Konev served as commander in chief of the ground forces from June 1946 until March 1950 and then became inspector general. Govorov, too, served as inspector general for a time. Rokossovsky was appointed Soviet commander in chief in Poland and then Polish minister of defense. Bagramian, Malinovsky, Meretskov, and Tolbukhin were given major commands.

  While retaining these commanders, Stalin kept a watchful, suspicious eye on each of them and, indeed, on all who were in positions of power. The cancer of mistrust had become a monstrous growth in the postwar years. He relied completely on no one. Men like Molotov, Beria, Voroshilov, Mikoyan, and Kaganovich who had worked closely with him over many years found themselves suddenly removed to a distance, deprived of his confidence, and even under threat of arrest. The smallest spark could ignite his suspicions and bring upon the unfortunate individuals disgrace and even death. The communist system in Russia had not found a means of removing men from power without fabrications of treason, or sentences of imprisonment, exile, and execution.

  Stalin was now husbanding his strength. He was unhealthily sallow and physically in decline, but mentally he was alert and completely in control of national policies. Among those in authority under him, rivalries, maneuvering for position and power, and unspoken concern for the succession were taking place. He undoubtedly observed and even fostered these rivalries, but in a way designed to prevent any individual gathering too much power into his hands. At times, he promoted attacks and criticisms of individuals as though warning them not to take their office for granted - or else to spur them to greater efforts. Like Lenin, he had come to regard his position as personal and beyond the grasp and power of any of those surrounding him. Although in his seventies, he felt that death was still far off, and he took no steps to name a successor. He could find no one to whom he could entrust the policies which were to him of paramount importance.

  Two men who had long been prominent in the hierarchy and were regarded as possible successors were Malenkov and Zhdanov. Malenkov had held a position of power since the time of the great purges. He was responsible for party organization and for the promotion and demotion of key officials. He acted on Stalin’s behalf in party affairs and served on the State Committee of Defense. Small, plump, and with a Mongol cast to his features, he was able and intelligent, his dark eyes mirroring his agile mind. But early in 1945, Stalin called Zhdanov to Moscow from Leningrad, where he had served throughout the siege. Although in poor health and suffering from a heart ailment, Zhdanov was ambitious and tough. Presumably, Stalin considered that Malenkov ha
d become complacent or too secure. Zhdanov at once launched a strong attack on Malenkov’s work as chairman of the Committee on Rehabilitation of Liberated Areas and on his management of the dismantling of German industry. The attack was so effective that Malenkov was forced to retire into the background. Suddenly, in July 1948, however, Stalin recalled him. A few weeks later Zhdanov died. Restored to office Malenkov began to think of himself as heir-apparent, but he had other rivals.

  On Stalin’s direction, or at least with his approval, Malenkov made an attack on the handling of party policy in the Ukraine. It was in effect an attack on Khrushchev. He had been first secretary of the Ukrainian party since 1938. In the war, he had served as a political officer with the Red Army as it retreated to Stalingrad and then as it had advanced westward and liberated the Ukraine. Malenkov now demanded stronger party controls over the collective farms of the steppelands. The peasants of the Ukraine had always hated the collective system, and in the hope that at the end of the war the system would be abolished, they had been expanding their private holdings by seizing land belonging to the collectives. On March 19, 1946, a joint resolution of the Council of Ministers and the Central Committee directed that all land and equipment alienated by the peasants should be restored to the collectives. Within a year, some 14 million acres were recovered. Malenkov also criticized corruption and inefficiency among local party and government officials.

  A Council on Collective Farms was given responsibility for restoring order and strengthening party control in the Ukraine. But in 1946, the whole of this vast region suffered a terrible drought and the harvest failed. Party mismanagement in the Ukraine was blamed. Khrushchev was again under attack. In March 1947, Lazar Kaganovich, Stalin’s chief trouble shooter, was sent to the Ukraine, where he took over the office of first secretary, leaving Khrushchev as chairman of the local council of ministers. But somehow, Khrushchev survived this crisis, and when later in 1947 Kaganovich returned to Moscow, he again became first secretary of the Ukrainian party.