At the same time, Stalin tried to induce Poland to define her policy to the disadvantage of Germany. Nobody knew at that time which way Poland was going, and a special session of the Politbureau was called to consider this problem. Litvinov and Radek, as well as the representative of the Commissariat of War, took the view that Poland could be influenced to join hands with Soviet Russia. The only one who disagreed with this view was Artusov, the chief of the Foreign Division of the Ogpu. He considered the prospects of a Polish-Soviet accord illusory. Artusov, a bit rash in thus opposing the majority of the Politbureau, was cut short by Stalin himself: “You are misinforming the Politbureau.”
This remark of Stalin traveled fast in the inner circle. The “dare devil” Artusov was regarded as already a finished man. Subsequent events proved Artusov right. Poland joined the German fold, and that may have saved Artusov for a while. He was a Swiss who had taken up residence in Czarist Russia as a French teacher. He had joined the revolutionary movement before the World War and the Bolshevik Party in 1917. Of small stature, gray-haired, wearing a goatee, a lover of music, Artusov had married a Russian woman and raised a family in Moscow. In 1937 he was arrested and executed in the great purge.
The fiasco with Poland increased Stalin’s conviction of the need of appeasing Hitler. He used every avenue to convey to Berlin his readiness for an amicable arrangement. Hitler’s blood purge of June thirtieth immensely raised him in Stalin’s estimation. Hitler had demonstrated for the first time to the men in the Kremlin that he knew how to wield power, that he was a dictator, not only in name but in deed. If Stalin had doubts before as to Hitler’s ability to rule with an iron hand, to crush opposition, to assert his authority even over potent political and military forces, those doubts were now dispelled. From now on, Stalin recognized in Hitler a master, a man able to back up his challenge to the world. This, more than anything else, was responsible for Stalin’s decision on the night of June thirtieth to secure at whatever cost an understanding with the Nazi regime.
Two weeks later, on July fifteenth, Radek, writing in the official Soviet organ Izvestia, attempted to raise before Berlin the bugaboo of Moscow’s alignment with the Versailles powers. He ended, however, with this contrary note:
“There is no reason why Fascist Germany and Soviet Russia should not get on together, inasmuch as the Soviet Union and Fascist Italy are good friends.”
Hitler’s warning, conveyed through Von Neurath, that Germany was willing to risk encirclement was what sent Stalin off on a move for counter-encirclement. At this time, the close relations between the Red Army and the German army were still in existence. The trade relations between the two countries were very much alive. Stalin therefore looked upon Hitler’s political course toward Moscow as a maneuver For a favorable diplomatic position. Not to be outflanked, he decided to respond to it by a wide maneuver of his own.
Litvinov was sent back to Geneva. There in late November, 1934, he negotiated with Pierre Laval a preliminary joint agreement envisaging a mutual-assistance pact between France and Russia, purposively left open for other powers to join. This protocol was signed in Geneva on December fifth.
Four days later, Litvinov issued the following statement: “The Soviet Union never ceases especially to desire the best all-around relations with Germany. Such, I am confident, is also the attitude of France towards Germany. The Eastern European pact would make possible the creation and further development of such relations between these three countries, as well as between the other signatories to the pact.”
To this maneuver Hitler did at last respond. Large credits were opened to the Soviet government. Stalin was tremendously encouraged. The financial interests of Germany were, in his judgment, forcing Hitler’s hand.
In the spring of 1935, while Anthony Eden, Pierre Laval and Eduard Beneš were visiting Moscow, Stalin scored what he considered his greatest triumph. The Reichbank granted a long-term loan of 200,000,000 gold marks to the Soviet government.
On the evening of August 2, 1935, I was with Artusov and the other members of his staff at the Lubianka offices of the Foreign Division of the Ogpu. It was on the eve of Levanevsky’s take-off on his famous first flight across the North Pole from Moscow to San Francisco. We were all waiting for a car to take us to see Levanevsky and his two companions start for America. While we were waiting and looking up papers in the safes, the subject of our relations with the Nazi regime came up. Artusov produced a highly confidential report just received from one of our leading agents in Berlin. It was prepared in answer to the question worrying Stalin: What and how strong are the forces in Germany favoring an accord with the Soviet Union?
After an exceptionally interesting review of the internal economic and political conditions in Germany, of the elements of possible discontent, of Berlin’s relations with France and other powers, and of the dominant influences surrounding Hitler, our correspondent arrived at this conclusion:
“All of the Soviet attempts to appease and conciliate Hitler are doomed. The main obstacle to an understanding with Moscow is Hitler himself.”
The report made a profound impression upon all of us. Its logic and facts seemed unanswerable. We wondered how the “big boss” took it. Artusov remarked that Stalin’s optimism concerning Germany remained unshaken.
“Do you know what the boss said at the last meeting of the Politbureau?” Artusov observed with a wave of the hand. And he quoted Stalin:
“Well, now, how can Hitler make war on us when he has granted us such loans? It’s impossible. The business circles in Germany are too powerful, and they are in the saddle.”
In September, 1935, I left for Western Europe to take up my new post as Chief of the Military Intelligence there. Within a month I flew back to Moscow. My hurried return trip was caused by an extraordinary development.
I discovered, in taking over our Intelligence network, that one of our agents in Germany had come upon the trail of secret negotiations between the Japanese military attaché in Berlin, Lieutenant General Hiroshi Oshima, and Baron Joachim von Ribbentrop, then Hitler’s unofficial minister for special foreign relations.
I decided that these negotiations were a matter of such paramount concern to the Soviet government that they required exceptional attention on my part. To watch their progress would be no routine affair. I needed for the task the boldest and best men at our disposal. For this purpose I returned to Moscow to consult headquarters. I came back to Holland armed with all the necessary authority and means to pursue to the bitter end the quest for information on the Oshima-Ribbentrop conversations.
These conversations were carried on outside ordinary diplomatic channels. The Japanese ambassador in Berlin and the German Foreign Office were not involved. Von Ribbentrop, Hitler’s envoy extraordinary, was handling the matter privately with the Japanese general. By the end of 1935, the information in my possession showed beyond a shadow of doubt that the negotiations were progressing toward a definite objective. We knew, of course, that that objective was to checkmate the Soviet Union.
We also knew that the Japanese army had for years been anxious to secure the plans and models of Germany’s special anti-aircraft guns. The Tokyo militarists had shown themselves willing to go to any lengths to obtain from Berlin all the latest technical patents in weapons of warfare. This was the starting point for the German-Japanese negotiations.
Stalin kept in close touch with developments. Apparently Moscow decided to try to spike the negotiations by publicity. Early in January, 1936, reports began to appear in the Western European press that some kind of secret agreement had been concluded between Germany and Japan. On January tenth, Soviet Premier Molotov referred publicly to these reports. Two days later, Berlin and Tokyo denied that there was any substance in the rumors.
The only effect of the publicity was to increase the secrecy of the negotiations and to force the German and Japanese governments to devise some mask for their real treaty.
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