Moscow, 1937

by Karl Schlogel

  Furthermore, many of the ambassador’s own acquaintances vanished or reappeared in the dock during the show trials. In one case, that of the mysterious ‘Baron Steiger’, a nobleman of Baltic German origin, who was known as an informant and a diplomatic liaison man with the Kremlin, the actual disappearance took place before the very eyes of the diplomatic community:

  One evening later in the season we were invited to be the guests of the government in what was once the Royal Box for the première of a new opera. Steiger was in the party. After the performance, my daughter Ekay, and Miss Wells, Stanley and Joan Richardson were invited by Baron Steiger to go for a bite to eat and dance at the night club at the Hotel Metropole. According to the story, shortly after midnight, seated at their table, Baron Steiger was tapped on the shoulder by two men in civilian dress. He left with them, excusing himself and saying he would be back shortly. He never returned and was never seen thereafter.3

  Beau monde, illustrious society

  A diplomat must observe accurately and reliably and then report on events surrounding his posting. Embassies act extraterritorially but acquire their significance only by involving themselves in events on the spot, gathering information that is otherwise hard to come by from a front-line position. This calls for direct personal contact, moving around locally, responding to changes of mood, listening to rumours and evaluating them, and, if necessary, acting as a place of refuge for citizens of one’s own state who have encountered difficulties. Embassies are open houses, equipped to hold both large receptions and intimate meetings. But, as extraterritorial enclaves in a privileged situation, they are also exposed and vulnerable. They open doors to all sorts of important channels and forums of metropolitan public life. An important feature of their public mission, however, is that they should have a social impact. This is why they cultivate contacts with ‘influential personalities’, artists and writers; the best places are always reserved for them at concert and theatre premieres. Balls, receptions and concerts are the established forms in which metropolitan society maintains contact with itself. But one can also just go out into the city – to the shops, the markets, the workers’ suburbs, the museums or the summerhouses that can be rented from the People’s Commissariat for Foreign Affairs. The city has much to offer: opera performances, a Rembrandt exhibition and antique shops. One can inspect shops selling objets d’art in between visits to the Piatakov trial. As Ambassador Davies noted in his diary on 27 January 1937: ‘Went to Commission Art Store and had a field day seeing canvases by modern Soviet artists … We had an interesting two hours.’ ‘Secured several fascinating oils (snow, revolutionary, etc.) for my University of Wisconsin Collection’ (28 January 1937). And on 29 January his timetable included:

  1 p.m. – Went to last day of the trial. Heard Radek, Sokolnikov, Sykinsky, Serebryakov and others make their final pleas. Adjourned at 3 p.m. 4 – With Marjorie and E.K. called on Madame Litvinov for tea.4

  But even the extraterritorial life of the ambassador remained intertwined with the life of the capital in myriads of ways. The need to put up with round-the-clock surveillance by the secret police was one of the local occupational hazards of a diplomat’s career.

  While there is no communication or intercourse between me and these men, the mere fact that we see each other daily and smilingly greet each other ‘good morning’ or ‘good night’ has created a sort of comradeship. There is no doubt but what they are deeply concerned with our protection at all times. In fact I am certain that one of the controlling reasons for the practice of having all of the chiefs of a mission under constant observation of the secret police when they are out of their own embassies is to afford protection.5

  All the participants in this game were fully aware of the rules.

  There is only one place, it is said, where there is assurance against being overheard and that is either out in the open spaces or in a room where you can tap on wood with a lead pencil and break the sound wave. That is a common practice in Moscow. I am told it is quite the same generally all over Europe. The secret police are omnipresent … I was surprised upon the occasion of my two very first diplomatic calls which I made upon Ambassador colleagues that each removed the telephone receiver on the desk and explained to me that the telephone afforded the most common hiding place for the dictaphone apparatus of the secret police.6

  The ambassadors thought of themselves as a community sui generis even in times of foreign policy confrontation. They exchanged information, shared their impressions, and the same people from the higher echelons of society continually met one another at the same receptions, in theatres or on tennis courts. They had been to the same schools and had common memories of postings where they had spent time many years previously. Georgii Chicherin, formerly the People’s Commissar of Foreign Affairs, and Dmitrii Florinskii, the head of Protocol, both wore the uniform of the People’s Commissariat; but their taste and their manners had been developed in an entirely different climate. This is what Hans von Herwarth has to say about Florinskii:

  Occasionally one had the impression that the proletarian demeanour of Florinsky and his peers had been cultivated. Florinskii disappeared from one day to the next and we never heard from him again. His successor, Nikolai Barkov, did not hail from the tsarist foreign service; he dressed in a bourgeois style and comported himself more agreeably and naturally than his predecessor, who lived in constant fear of revealing his background. But Barkov disappeared too.7

  The diplomats on the spot constituted a transnational mutual assistance society. They had lots of money, outdid each other in spending in the antique shops and were constantly arranging to meet for tennis. The embassies had the very best contacts with the news agencies and journalists, to the Kölnische Zeitung,8 to the Deutsche Allgemeine Zeitung, to Hermann Pörzgen of the Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung, to William Chamberlain of the Christian Science Monitor, or Walter Duranty of the New York Times.9 Old acquaintances from student days would meet in the dacha belonging to the Americans: Fitzroy MacLean, who had studied in Marburg, George Kennan, who had studied in Riga and Berlin, and Charles ‘Chip’ Bohlen, who had served in the Baltic.10 The life of this ‘community’ was profoundly affected by events in Moscow:

  The purge trials destroyed a good part of our contacts with the People’s Commissariat of Foreign Affairs. When we asked the telephone switchboard for a particular official, we received the answer ‘He is no longer here’. In the best case, we were told that he had been transferred. The fate of people we had often worked with over years, and who now vanished without a trace, filled us with horror.11

  Frequently, members of the German Embassy saw their former Soviet colleagues for the last time during the show trials. This was the case with Legation Councillor Gustav Hilger in the Radek trial.12 Ernst Köstring, the military attaché, was likewise involved in the negotiations in the Radek trial.13

  In the diary of the US ambassador, Joseph Davies, we find a panorama of Moscow high society shortly before its demise. The scenario is provided by the parties in the dachas out on the Moscow River, the receptions in the American Embassy, the legendary Spaso House, or the old Morozov Villa on Spiridonovka, the guest house of the People’s Commissariat of Foreign Affairs. Davies inducts us into the exclusive world of Moscow high society.

  He describes a lunch in the dacha owned by Arkadii Rozengol'ts, the People’s Commissar of Foreign Trade. Those present included Marshall Voroshilov, the People’s Commissar for Defence; Mikoian, the People’s Commissar for Food, Vyshinskii, the state prosecutor who had just concluded the trial against Piatakov, and others:

  The luncheon the Commissar of Foreign Trade gave was unusual and interesting. We drove over the white countryside for about thirty-five miles on a clear, cold day over the Stalin Road, a broad asphalt highway, probably 150 feet wide. It is part of the new military highway. On either side for miles was a forest of white birches on one side and green firs on the other, all cleared of underbrush. It was a region of country estates with fen
ces about ten feet high, usually painted green, all with the appearance of being smartly kept up. The winding road from the road to the dacha was attractive. The house was large and comfortable and commanded a beautiful view of the snow-covered landscape on all sides. It was well and attractively furnished after the rather heavy modern German type. On the way home we passed Stalin’s dacha. It again was surrounded by a high palisade of painted fence with a few soldiers about. He is almost inaccessible, but I think I will see him before I leave. These Commissars certainly treat themselves well. They live either in the Kremlin, which is a walled city within a city with the beautiful old court palaces and churches, or out in their country homes or both.14

  Davies was impressed by both Voroshilov and Vyshinskii. ‘The Attorney General is a man of about 60 and is much like Homer Cummings; calm, dispassionate, intellectual, and able and wise. He conducted the treason trial in a manner that won my respect and admiration as a lawyer.’ About Rozengol'ts he commented: ‘dark, non-Hebraic in appearance, with rather fine eyes, quite athletic (he has an indoor tennis court to keep himself fit).’15

  A distinguished gathering also took place at a ladies’ luncheon with Madame Molotov, who had recently become involved in the development of the perfumery industry. Among the guests were Mrs Kennan, Miss Wells, Mme Chubar, Mme Krestinskii and Mme Stomoniakov. Nothing was lacking: the table groaned under the weight of hors d’oeuvres, three kinds of meat, and six kinds of fish.

  Quite extraordinary – a group of wives of the commissars all of whom are actively engaged as engineers, doctors or factory managers … The day arrived and off we went – an hour in the country out Rublova Woods way – past several large villas, and finally the green fence and guards come into view. Gate was open, and en route to house saw many more guards. House modern, large (but by no means a palace either in or out), rather plain. Good taste – ample, but not furnished in a cosy or ‘lived-in’ manner, though in every way adequate. Entrance hall, big stairs, dressing rooms, etc. Living room spacious. No photos or bric-a-brac. Dining room large with huge casement windows. Table decorated in cyclamen – at least 3" each. Standing on floor around room were eight or ten potted lilacs – white and lavender – fine big heads and full of flowers.16

  The reception at the US Embassy in honour of the Red Army was undoubtedly a high point – a mere three months later its members were condemned in a trial held in camera and executed. Davies was visibly impressed by the members of the military.

  About 60 sat down at the Embassy table. They included the ‘High Command of the Army and Navy’ and various notables, such as ‘Hero Flyers’ of the Soviet Union, famous parachute jumpers, airplane engineers and the like. One was impressed by the fine appearance of these men – strong, healthy and with fine faces. Their uniforms were perfectly tailored and were quite resplendent with the various insignia of rank and various decorations, including the ‘Order of Lenin’, etc … The dinner was as handsome as the Embassy could produce, with all the capitalistic trimmings.

  Marshall Voroshilov sat on Mrs Davies’ right with one of the Embassy ladies on his right, for translating. Vice-Marshal Tukhachevsky sat on the hostess’ left with my daughter next to him. She speaks Russian quite well; is a graduate of Vassar and is attending the University of Moscow. They got along very well in Russian and he started to sound her out on Karl Marx and the teachings of Communism and asked her whether she had ever studied ‘Marxism’. She said, ‘Yes, in college.’ He inquired, ‘Don’t you think it is a wonderful system?’ She said, ‘No,’ that she was not impressed with it … After dinner, we had moving pictures.17

  But, shortly after this event, the ambassador had to add: ‘Within nine weeks of this dinner, eleven of the principal officers of the army and navy were tried by court-martial and shot … including generals of the High Command who were among our dinner guests.’18 The impact of this wave of arrests on the German Embassy and its relation to the Moscow environment was even more drastic. Many of the accused and many of the military personnel in the second and third show trials had German connections or a German background, something that also became explicit in the trials themselves.

  Masked ball at the American Embassy

  Davies gives a detailed account of the festivities at the American Embassy. This begins with the place, Spaso House itself.

  In front of the house on the right is rather an unusual (for Moscow) situation – a very pleasant little park. Still farther to the right, a beautiful old church, which makes one sick at heart by its dilapidation and tragedy. It is now occupied by many families, and the indications of lack of care and its run-down appearance make one sad. Between the church and the Spaso House is what used to be a charming old palace, formerly the city home of some Russian noble, but here, too, this tragedy hits one, for it also is run down, occupied by families of workers and soldiers.19

  The balls in the American Embassy – even before 1937 – are described several times in the diaries of Elena Bulgakova. They were also destined to receive a literary treatment. The Bulgakovs did not find it easy to procure the appropriate clothing required for such occasions – tuxedo or a black suit. The listing of the names of the guests suggests that ‘tout Moscou’ could be found at such receptions.

  For dinner – caviar, salmon, home-made vol-au-vents, radishes, fresh cucumbers, steamed mushrooms, vodka, white wine. The Americans speak Russian. Bohlen even speaks it quite well.

  M.A. shows them snapshots of himself, saying that he would apply for a foreign passport. Zhukhovitskii choked at the idea. For their part, the Americans thought it a good idea; he really should make the journey.

  Bohlen wants to translate Zoya’s Apartment into English together with Zhukhovitskii. On saying goodbye we arranged to meet Bohlen for lunch on the nineteenth.20

  The ball at the American Embassy. M.A. in a black suit. I wore a dark blue evening dress with pale pink flowers. We arrived for 12 o’clock. Everyone in tails, only a few dinner jackets and suits.

  Afinogenov in a suit, and sporting a cane for some reason or other. Bersenev together with Mrs Giatsintova. Meyerhold and Mrs Reikh. Vl./Iv. [Vsevolod Ivanov] together with Kotik. Tairov with Mrs Koonen, Budennyi, Tukhachevskii, Bukharin in an old-fashioned frock-coat. Arm in arm with his equally old-fashioned wife. Mrs Radek in a curious hiking rig-out. Bubnov in a khaki uniform.

  Bohlen and Faymonville came especially down into the vestibule to be of assistance to us. Bullitt asked Mrs Wiley to look after us.

  There was dancing in the Hall of Pillars, different-coloured spotlights shone down from the gallery. Behind a net a flock of fluttering birds could be seen. An orchestra, brought over especially from Stockholm. M.A. was impressed most of all by the conductor’s tails – they reached right down to his heels. Dinner at separate tables in a dining room built onto the embassy villa especially for the occasion. In the corners of the room there were little meadows, with little goats, sheep and baby bears on them. There were cages containing cockerels hanging along the walls. An accordion began to play at 3; the cockerels began to crow. Style russe.

  Vast quantities of tulips and roses – brought in from Holland. A shashlik restaurant had been set up on the top floor. Red roses, red wine from France. Downstairs champagne and cigarettes everywhere.

  Wanted to leave at three o’clock. The Americans wouldn’t let us go – the secretaries, Faymonville (the attaché) and Ward stayed with us the whole time. At six we climbed into the embassy Cadillac and drove home. I took with me a giant bouquet of tulips that Bohlen had given me.21

  ‘Baron Steiger’, whom Davies also mentions, made an appearance at one of these receptions – ‘our very own GPU officer’.22

  For the most part, there was a highly diverse and interesting crowd at such receptions: the ambassadors – first Bullitt and then Davies – with their keen curiosity about Russian affairs, Soviet artists, musicians, writers, famous pilots, French authors passing through. People met at the American dacha in order to go skiing, to see films or at
tend masked balls.

  The previous day an invitation to the masked ball in the American Embassy arrived, organized by the ambassador’s daughter. Not at all in tune with how we felt at the time!

  In the evening M.A. phoned Kennan’s wife, and I spoke to her as well. She did everything in her power to persuade us to come: ‘Some original fancy dress or other!’ ‘Will the men be in evening dress?’

  She replied (with a marked accent): ‘No, a tuxedo will be just fine. But fancy dress would be even better! You will be given masks once you are there.’

  Where are we to get a tuxedo from? Where patent leather shoes? Shirts, collars? …

  M.A. joked, ‘Would a priest’s cassock do as well?’ ‘A cassock? Of course.’23

  Interior with piano and nursemaid

  A new apartment was the most visible sign of social advancement and membership of the nomenklatura. It meant that you had escaped the confined space of the kommunalka and the dictatorship of the enforced intimacy of people living in the communal flats. And the loss of this privilege was the most visible proof that someone had fallen from grace and been expelled from high society. Moving house was regarded as a symbol of a social rise or fall. In his literary portrait of that generation, Iurii Trifonov has focused attention on the entangled lives of the inhabitants of the Government House. The ambience of the social climber is an essential component of his description.

  Florinsky was proud of the new apartment into which he had recently moved from the House of the Soviets. It had 120 square metres of living space. The study was enormous. It was too bad that he couldn’t work there: all you could do at home was have breakfast and sleep. Until the last summer the apartment had belonged to one of those people whose sullied name would be cursed by mankind for ever. It was now totally redecorated, even the floor had been renewed.24