by Bart Gauvin
Rosla looked surprised, but recovered quickly and nodded.
“Good,” Medvedev went on, “now, please, your assessment of our military position with regards to NATO.”
Rosla nodded again, and began. “Your military reforms have done much to even the overall balance, Pavel Ivanovich. Two years ago, we had entire units digging for potatoes in the fields just so the soldiers could eat. Today we are in a vastly improved situation, and for that I thank you. But there is much work still to be done, and I thank you too for giving me the opportunity to do it.”
Medvedev nodded, acknowledging the compliment.
Rosla went on, “Our army’s position in Czechoslovakia is powerful, but tenuous. Our lines of supply are strained and vulnerable to attacks from bandits operating in Poland. If NATO gains control in that country, our position in Central Europe could become untenable. If that occurs, NATO will be beyond the Vistula, directly on our frontier, and free to prepare one of their dangerous, set-piece, multi-corps attacks if they so choose, as they did in Iraq. Repelling a well-prepared invasion of that scale on our homeland would be…difficult.”
Difficult without the use of special weapons, the Soviet president noted Rosla’s omission. Still, Medvedev was impressed. A lesser man would try to establish his influence by emphasizing the strength of the ministry he leads. Medvedev was pleased, and he let himself show it by nodding in agreement. He needed men that were not only effective, but honest.
“So,” the president probed, “how does our nation prevent such an eventuality?”
Now the marshal leaned forward and spoke earnestly. “Pavel Ivanovich, I would hope that the answer to that question lies with the Foreign Ministry, not mine. But regardless, NATO cannot be allowed to establish themselves in Poland.”
Medvedev nodded, then said, “Marshal, you will see in the Politburo meeting in a few minutes that you and I are of the same mind, that we are taking material steps to prevent just such an eventuality.”
The president paused before broaching the next subject. “However, if the worst happens and war with the west becomes necessary, what are your thoughts on how it should be fought?”
A smile turned one side of the soldier’s mouth upward. “My thoughts on that subject will no doubt dismay my colleagues in the tank and motorized rifle forces,” Rosla said.
“How so?” asked Pavel, intrigued.
“My thinking is colored by my career in the desant troops,” Rosla explained. “We traditionally work much more closely with our air and naval components. My view is that we have concentrated too much on the central front at the expense of the strategic flanks. I agree wholeheartedly with our historical conclusions that we must fight on the offensive whenever and wherever possible. If the worst were to happen and war with NATO became necessary, I have ideas about how the new geopolitical situation could allow us to economize our forces on the main front so that we could hit our enemies at their more vulnerable points.”
“And where are those?” Medvedev queried. Though not a soldier himself, military strategy fascinated him. That the younger man was willing to think creatively excited him.
“When I say strategic flanks, I am speaking specifically of the areas around the Arctic and the Black Sea. The northern flank is the more difficult, but offers the greatest rewards.”
“Go on,” Medvedev encouraged.
Rosla did, outlining in broad terms how the altered situation in Europe offered intriguing possibilities in the event of hostilities with NATO.
“I can see how your brethren from our armored troops may take issue with your concepts, Aleksandr Ivanovich,” Medvedev said, nodding in agreement, “but your thinking is sound, I think. Instruct Stavka to start making plans along these lines…just in case.”
There was a rap at the door and Medvedev responded with a “Da?”
His gray-haired secretary opened the door and softly announced, “Tovarich President, the interior minister is here.”
Pavel’s face brightened. “Ah, yes,” he said, “send him in.”
Oleg Drugov breezed through the heavy double door and into the presidential office suite. Medvedev could see how easily people could overlook his friend’s physical appearance, Nevertheless, his small frame camouflages an impressive and ruthless intellect, Medvedev thought. The opposition members of the Politburo underestimate him at their peril.
“Dobre denh, Pavel Ivanovich,” Drugov greeted his president.
“Good day to you, Oleg Borisovich,” Pavel returned the greeting before gesturing to Rosla and saying, “You have met the new member of my government?”
“Not officially, no,” Drugov said, taking a step towards Rosla and offering his hand. The big soldier took it, and the two men eyed each other as they shook. Each is trying to judge the measure of the other, Pavel thought, noting that the handshake lasted just a beat longer than needed.
“I am pleased to meet you, tovarich Interior Minister,” Rosla said after the barely perceptible pause. “The support of your ministry’s OMON teams was most helpful in our campaign to crush the dissidents outside Kiev last summer.”
Drugov nodded acknowledgement, then said, “Think nothing of it, tovarich Defense Minister. From what I hear, you and your forces did the real work.”
Medvedev smiled. He thought he could see an alliance beginning to form between these two, one of whom he knew was eminently capable and loyal, and the other he believed to be as well. The sight pleased him.
The gray-haired secretary rapped at the door again.
“The Politburo is assembled in the meeting room, sir,” she announced. “Five minutes until the conference is scheduled to start.”
“Thank you, Irina,” responded the president. Then he turned to his interior minister and his new defense minister. “Should we be going?”
The three men walked out of the presidential offices and down a hallway decorated with the heroic paintings of socialist workers and soldiers gazing ahead confidently at whatever challenges lay on the horizon. Two uniformed KGB officers standing outside the Central Committee conference room straightened to attention and one turned to open the heavy wooden doors as they approached. The Soviet president swept into the room; here he was also the Chairman of the Politburo, the true ruling council of the USSR. His gait and posture radiated assurance and authority as he surveyed the scene.
The principal members of the Politburo sat around a large conference table, while their various aides and staff members sat quietly in chairs behind them along the ornate walls of the large room. Oleg Drugov moved around the table to take his seat. The position of interior minister had become vacant after the previous minister suffered a mental breakdown and attempted suicide shortly after the coup. Who better than Oleg to fill it? Another close ally, Anton Laskin, took the helm of the KGB after the previous chairman, the original leader of the Emergency Committee, was caught dabbling in corrupt business dealings with the west to line his own pockets. Pavel offered the man a quiet retirement or a very public trial, and the chairman wisely chose the former. All in all, Medvedev now directly controlled more than two thirds of the votes in this room, and votes in this room were the only ones that really mattered.
Medvedev’s allies on the Politburo were no mere sycophants, however. He’d hand-picked each one based on their proven accomplishments. Thanks to their abilities, the Soviet government was functioning more efficiently than it had in decades. They were younger, more energetic, more open to creative thinking than the old generation they replaced. Most importantly, they were loyal to Pavel and his vision for the USSR’s place in the world.
Pavel’s eye came to rest at the end of the table. Opposite his own seat sat the scowling face of one of the few remaining original members of Emergency Committee: Vice President of the Soviet Union. The man was a true believer in world socialism, so much so that Pavel had as of yet been unable to find a true weakness in
him that could be exploited to force him out of office. Well, I have marginalized him and those who think like he does. That will have to do for now, Pavel soothed himself.
Rosla, unprompted, walked around the side of the table to the defense minister’s chair, about half-way down, and sat. Medvedev remained standing for the moment behind his seat at the head of the table.
“Welcome, gentlemen,” he began. “Thank you for being here today. Allow me to introduce someone most of you have met and all of you have heard of, the newest member of our committee: Minister of Defense, Marshal of the Soviet Union Alexandr Ivanovich Rosla!”
Polite applause filled the chamber. Rosla acknowledged the welcome with a polite nod of his head.
Medvedev sat, opened the folder in front of him, and called the Politburo meeting to order. “Tovarichi,” Medvedev began with a subtle inside joke, knowing that his allies in the room despised the socialist moniker almost as much as he, “our agenda for today’s meeting will cover NATO’s continued rejection of our demand that the united Germany withdraw from their alliance, the situation in Eastern Europe in general, and from Poland in particular. We will conclude with a decision and vote on how to proceed on the Polish question.”
Heads nodded around the table.
“Foreign Minister?” Medvedev prompted, addressing his hand-picked chief diplomat, Georgy Vasilevich Garin. “Please, your report on the German issue.”
The veteran diplomat looked down at his folio and began his remarks. “Germany and the NATO Council continue to rebuff our arguments that, with Germany united we should discuss dissolving both NATO and the Warsaw Pact, or at least that Germany should withdraw from the NATO alliance…” Garin continued for several minutes, detailing German attempts at conciliation, Feigned, no doubt, Medvedev thought. There were broader western claims that NATO was a defensive alliance, and thus not a threat to the Soviet Union. We have heard that before, Pavel thought, darkly.
“To conclude,” continued Garin, “we have made no substantive progress in our efforts to mitigate the German threat, and have garnered significant opposition from the west, both diplomatic and economic, due to our perceived involvement in the Polish conflict.”
Everyone around the table knew that Russian involvement was far more than “perceived,” but appearances had to be maintained.
“Do none of them remember what the Germans did to us, to everyone in Europe, just fifty years ago?” Medvedev asked rhetorically, heat in his tone. “Twenty million Soviet citizens dead! The heartland of our country in ruins! And they have the temerity to try to punish us for protecting ourselves from another such catastrophe?”
The foreign minister remained silent, looking at his president.
“Thank you, Georgy Vasilevich,” Medvedev said, more calmly. “Now, what of the situation in Poland?”
Garin went on, “The parties in Poland that are friendly to us are losing ground, despite our moral and material support.” The man licked his lips before continuing, “The Pope’s statement supporting Warsaw’s Solidarity regime two weeks ago may prove decisive. NATO has not officially taken a position on the conflict but individual states, specifically Britain, France, and Belgium, have offered political and economic support to the Solidarity regime.”
“What of the Germans?” asked Medvedev.
“So far nothing but statements in support of a peaceful resolution to the conflict,” answered Garin, who managed to keep any emotion out of his voice.
Of course, thought Pavel, a “peaceful resolution” to NATO would mean a regime hostile to us.
“Defense Minister,” Pavel addressed Rosla, sitting in his new seat, “are there signs of NATO military intervention in Poland?”
“Nothing directly related to Poland,” Rosla answered. “But as you know, while the Germans have reduced the size of their armed forces, they have moved many of those forces east into the former German Democratic Republic, nearer to Poland. They could intervene very quickly, if they so choose. While the Americans and British have both marginally reduced their commitments on the continent, they still maintain powerful formations in Germany that could intervene as well.”
The president nodded, then spoke to the entire assembled Politburo.
“Friends, you know the two pillars of our government’s foreign policy,” he held up one finger. “First, friendly relations with the west depend on a neutral Germany that cannot threaten the Soviet Union in the near future. Second,” he raised another finger, “NATO and the Western European states must withdraw to their side of the Rhine to demonstrate that their alliance truly is defensive. I am happy to entertain ideas from our other allies in Eastern Europe, but the Solidarity regime in Warsaw has given us every indication that they intend to pursue a course of alliance with the western powers. This we cannot allow.”
Medvedev rapped his knuckles on the table for emphasis and continued: “As such, the vote before us today is whether or not to begin giving decisive support to the elements in Poland who oppose the Solidarity regime’s reckless course.” Medvedev now motioned to KGB chairman Laskin. “Anton Andreevich,” he ordered, “please briefly tell us how we would affect this strategy.”
Laskin removed his eyeglasses and explained, in a soft, reasoned voice, how the KGB, already engaged in funneling funds and small arms to the Polish opposition, was laying the groundwork for opening the spigot to transfer heavy weapons and “volunteers” across the Belorussian Republic’s border, while at the same time launching a propaganda campaign that would fan the flickering flames of violent opposition to Warsaw.
All in all, it was a masterful strategy, Medvedev thought. The Soviet Union would vociferously deny any and all involvement in the conflict, stalemating opposition in the UN, while ensuring that the Polish government’s focus remained squarely on its internal problems. The move would forestall any possible moves to admit Poland into NATO.
When Laskin finished, Medvedev continued, “Now tell me, what is your assessment of the risks of our proposed strategy? Interior Minister?”
Oleg Drugov, a pained expression on his face, answered, “Pavel Ivanovich, the western sanctions over the Poland situation have already hit our economy hard, forestalling the recovery that our reforms should be bringing about. If they decide to strengthen those sanctions because of this, to further cut us off from world markets, I fear our economy could falter. If we have another harvest as bad as last year’s, collapse is more imminent. We are just now beginning to tap the potential of our oil and natural gas reserves in Siberia. If we are not allowed to sell them, if the Americans won’t sell us grain…”
Now the vice president, silent until this point, joined the conversation. “We have no need of their ‘markets,’” he said with contempt. “Your ‘reforms’ are making us vulnerable to the forces of world capitalism, Pavel Ivanovich.”
Idiot, thought Medvedev, don’t you see that our vulnerability is the result of such blind ideology as this, enforced by people like you for decades?
“That is a debate for another time, tovarich Vice President,” Pavel responded. “Let us deal with the situation at hand.”
The vice president retreated into sullen silence.
Marshal Rosla cleared his throat.
“Yes, Defense Minister?” prompted Medvedev.
“Sir, with all respect to my KGB colleague,” Rosla nodded across the table to Laskin, “I am dubious about the success of continued covert involvement in Poland,” said Rosla.
“Did you have some other suggestion?” challenged Foreign Minister Garin. Open debate was encouraged in Medvedev’s Politburo, and Rosla had not yet proven himself in this forum of ideas.
“Direct military intervention,” came the decisive reply. “We have done it before, in Poland even. Also in Hungary, and in Czechoslovakia. Each time our actions were decisive.”
Rosla had pointedly omitted any mention of the USSR’s “direc
t intervention” in Afghanistan, Pavel noted.
“Such an action would surely bring heavy economic consequences from the west,” countered Garin.
Rosla nodded, conceding the point.
“Nonetheless,” said Medvedev, enjoying the lively exchange of ideas in this chamber that for too long had been a model of open conformism and covert backbiting, “direct intervention is something we must at least consider. How would you suggest we do it, Defense Minister?”
“Our forces would need time to prepare,” Rosla answered, leaning back. “The threat of military interference from NATO would be much higher than in the previous examples I have cited. I would not feel comfortable intervening unless we were ready to counter that eventuality.”
“How long?” asked the KGB chairman.
“Our air forces are currently in the best shape. Three months at most. I would want time to improve the readiness of our ground force reserves. That would take nearly six months at least. I am far less familiar with our naval forces…” here the marshal turned in his seat and beckoned a blue-uniformed naval aide to stand. “Captain First Rank Ivanenko, how long does the Navy require before they would be ready to repel aggression from NATO?”
The naval officer rose hesitantly from his seat against the wall, looking distinctly uncomfortable, but he spoke with confidence.
“Tovarichi,” he began, “our fleet has suffered much from poor maintenance and faulty supplies of parts and weapons for a long time. We are correcting these deficiencies, thanks to the reforms enacted by this government, but these things take time. Our crews also need training before they will be of an acceptable level. I do not wish to speak for my superiors, but our internal assessments are that we require something in the order of twelve months to be fully ready.”
The marshal nodded and the junior officer sat back down.
“A year!?” blurted the vice president, outraged. “What was your predecessor doing with all the resources we threw at him, Rosla?”
“I endorse Captain First Rate Ivanenko’s statement,” said the marshal, ignoring the vice president’s outburst. “But allow me to suggest that this timeline, though seemingly long, offers some possibilities.”