Blackberry set about converting the NKVD into a “secret sect” of sacred executioners. Yezhov despatched Yagoda’s officers to inspect the provinces and then arrested them on the train. Three thousand Chekists were to be executed. Security chief Pauker and Stalin’s brother-in-law Redens remained in their posts. Between 19 and 21 March, Yezhov summoned the surviving Chekists to the Officers’ Club. There, the diminutive Commissar-General announced that Yagoda had been a German spy since 1907 (when he joined the Party) and was also a corrupt thief. Yezhov referred absurdly to his own tininess: “I may be small in stature but my hands are strong—Stalin’s hands.” The killing would be deliberately random: “There will be some innocent victims in this fight against Fascist agents,” Yezhov told them. “We are launching a major attack on the Enemy; let there be no resentment if we bump someone with an elbow. Better that ten innocent people should suffer than one spy get away. When you chop wood, chips fly.”5
19
The Massacre of Generals, Fall of Yagoda and Death of a Mother
Yezhov “discovered” that Yagoda had tried to poison him by spraying mercury onto the curtains of his office. It later emerged that Yezhov had faked this outrage. Nonetheless, Yagoda was arrested at his Kremlin apartment, even before the Politburo had formally given the order. The power of the Politburo was officially delegated to the so-called “Five”: Stalin, Molotov, Voroshilov, Kaganovich and Yezhov, even though the latter was not a member.1
The search of Yagoda’s residences—he had two apartments in central Moscow and the luxurious dacha—revealed the debauchery of the NKVD élite in the list of his possessions. His pornographic collection contained 3,904 photographs plus eleven early pornographic movies. His career as a womanizer was amply illustrated by the female clothing he kept in his apartment, which sounds as if he was running a lingerie store not a police force, but then the NKVD bosses could never resist exploiting their power. There were 9 foreign female coats, 4 squirrel coats, 3 sealskin cloaks, another in Astrakhan wool, 31 pairs of female shoes, 91 female berets, 22 female hats, 130 pairs of foreign silk stockings, 10 female belts, 13 bags, 11 female suits, 57 blouses, 69 nighties, 31 female jackets, another 70 pairs of silk tights, 4 silk shawls—plus a collection of 165 pornographic pipes and cigarette holders, and one rubber dildo.
Finally there was the macabre fetishism of the two labelled bullets that had been extracted from the brains of Zinoviev and Kamenev. Like holy relics in a depraved distortion of the apostolic succession, Yezhov inherited them, storing them in his office.2
Yagoda, accused of diamond-dealing and corruption, complaisantly implicated the next generation of victims, guided by Yezhov, who ensured that his own protégés were left out, before the testimonies were sent over to Stalin. Within three weeks of his interrogation, starting on 2 April, Yezhov was reporting that Yagoda admitted encouraging Rykov to resist the Party in the late twenties: “You act. I won’t touch you.” Then he denounced Pauker and confessed to the sprinkling of mercury around Blackberry’s office. More importantly, Yagoda implicated Abel Yenukidze for planning a coup along with Marshal Tukhachevsky, Stalin’s old enemy from the Civil War. By the time of his trial, along with Bukharin and Rykov, Yagoda had confessed to the medical murders of Gorky and his son and to the assassination of Kirov.
In his private hell, he knew his family and friends faced destruction with him: the rule in Stalin’s world was that when a man fell, all those connected to him, whether friends, lovers or protégés, fell with him. His brother-in-law and father-in-law were soon shot, along with his salon of writers. Yagoda’s wife and sister were exiled. Yagoda’s father wrote to Stalin, disowning “our only surviving son” for “his grave crimes.” Two sons had given their lives for Bolshevism in earlier times. Now the 78-year-old jeweller of Nizhny Novgorod was losing the third. Both Yagoda’s parents died in the camps.
Yagoda seemed to undergo a Damascene conversion. “For the first time in my life, I’ll have to tell the whole truth about myself,” the world-weary Chekist sighed as if it was a relief. Vladimir Kirshon, the writer whom Stalin had advised on his plays and who was to be shot soon afterwards, was placed as the stool pigeon in his cell.
Yagoda asked what the town was saying about him, musing sadly: “I simply want to ask you about Ida [his wife] and Timosha [his mistress, Gorky’s daughter-in-law], the baby, my family, and to see some familiar faces before death.” He talked about death. “If I was sure to be allowed to live, I’d bear the burden of admitting murdering” Gorky and his son. “But it’s intolerably hard to declare it historically in front of all, especially Timosha.” Yagoda told his interrogator, “You can put down in your report to Yezhov that I said there must be a God after all. From Stalin I deserved nothing but gratitude for my faithful service; from God, I deserved the most severe punishment for having violated his commandments thousands of times. Now look where I am and judge for yourself: is there a God or not?”
Yagoda’s belladonna bore fatal fruit: the Hungarian hairdresser and favourite of Kremlin children, Pauker, forty-four, was arrested on 15 April, guilty of knowing too much and living too well: Stalin no longer trusted the old-fashioned Chekists with foreign connections. Pauker was shot quietly on 14 August 1937—the first courtier to die. Yenukidze was arrested too and executed on 20 December. The NKVD now belonged to Stalin, who turned to the army.3
On the evening of 1 May 1937, after the May Day Parade, there was the usual party at Voroshilov’s but the mood was effervescent with blood-lust and tension. Budyonny104 recorded how Stalin talked openly about the imminent slaughter with his inner circle: it was time, he said, “to finish with our enemies because they are in the army, in the staff, even in the Kremlin.” It is often claimed that Stalin planned the Terror alone with Yezhov and Molotov: this proves that, even socially, he was open with his entire circle, from his doctors to the Politburo, that they were about to “finish with” their enemies across the whole regime. “We must finish with them, not looking at their faces.” Budyonny guessed that this meant Marshal Tukhachevsky and senior commanders like Jonah Yakir and Jan Garmarnik, all of whom had been standing on the Mausoleum with them earlier that day. Budyonny claimed that he hoped this was not so. Yet the archives show how Voroshilov and Budyonny had been urging Stalin to “destroy” Enemies within the Red Army for over a year. It is most likely that Voroshilov’s guests not only backed Stalin but wildly encouraged him: a year earlier, Voroshilov, for example, sent Stalin an intelligence intercept of the German Embassy’s reports to Berlin on how Tukhachevsky had suddenly ceased to be a “Francophile” and now displayed “big respect for the German Army.”4
Tukhachevsky, Stalin’s Civil War foe and probably his most talented general, was bound to be his main target. That “refined nobleman, handsome, clever and able,” as Kaganovich described him, did not suffer fools gladly which was why he was hated by Voroshilov and Budyonny. The dashing womanizer was so forceful and charismatic that Stalin nicknamed him “Napoleonchik,” while Kaganovich paraphrased Bonaparte’s dictum: “Tukhachevsky hid Napoleon’s baton in his rucksack.”
He was as ruthless as any Bolshevik, using poison gas on peasant rebels. In the late twenties and early thirties, this “entrepreneur of military ideas,” as a recent historian calls him, advocated a huge expansion of the Red Army and the creation of mechanized forces to be deployed in so-called “deep operations”: he understood the era of Panzers and air power which brought him into conflict with Stalin’s cronies, still living for cavalry charges and armoured trains. Stalin tried to indict Tukhachevsky for treason in 1930 but Sergo among others resisted and helped bring him back as Deputy Defence Commissar. But there was another row with the touchy, vindictive Voroshilov in May 1936. Voroshilov became so heated with Tukhachevsky’s justified criticism that he shouted “Fuck you!” They made up but it was just at that time that the first of the Red Army generals was arrested and interrogated to implicate Tukhachevsky. More generals were mentioned in the January trial. Yagoda, Yenukidz
e and the benighted generals delivered more kindling for this bonfire.
On 11 May, Tukhachevsky was sacked as Deputy Commissar and demoted to the Volga District. On the 13th, Stalin put his hand on Tukhachevsky’s shoulder and promised he would soon be back in Moscow. He was as good as his word, for on the 22nd, Tukhachevsky was arrested and returned to Moscow. Yezhov and Voroshilov orchestrated the arrest of virtually the whole high command.
Yezhov took personal control of the interrogations. At a meeting with Stalin, Vyshinsky curried favour by recommending the use of torture.
“See for yourself,” Stalin ordered his Blackberry, who rushed back to the Lubianka to supervise the Marshal’s agonies, “but Tukhachevsky should be forced to tell everything . . . It’s impossible he acted alone.” Tukhachevsky was tortured.5
Amid this drama, Stalin’s mother died on 13 May 1937, aged seventy-seven. Three professors and two doctors signed her death certificate, testifying to her cardiosclerosis. Poskrebyshev approved the official announcements.105 Stalin himself wrote out his note for her wreath in Georgian, which read: “Dear and beloved mother from her son Joseph Djugashvili,” using his original name perhaps to signify the distance between Soso and Stalin. Embroiled in the Tukhachevsky plot, he did not attend the funeral: Beria, his wife and son Sergo presided in his stead but later Stalin asked about it as if guilty not to be there.6
A few days later, as Yezhov buzzed in and out of Stalin’s office, a broken Marshal Tukhachevsky confessed that Yenukidze had recruited him in 1928, that he was a German agent in cahoots with Bukharin to seize power. Tukhachevsky’s confession, which survives in the archives, is dappled with a brown spray that was found to be blood spattered by a body in motion.
Stalin had to convince the Politburo of the soldiers’ guilt. Yakir, one of the arrested commanders, was best friends with Kaganovich who was called into the Politburo and interrogated by Stalin about this friendship. Kaganovich reminded Stalin that it was he who had insisted on promoting Yakir, at which the Vozhd muttered, “Right, I remember . . . The matter’s closed.” Faced with the amazing confessions beaten out of the generals, Kaganovich believed “that there was a conspiracy of officers.” Mikoyan too was friends with many arrested. Stalin read him extracts from Uborevich’s confessions as a German spy.
“It’s incredible,” admitted Stalin, “but it’s a fact, they admit it.” They even signed on each page to avoid “falsification.”
“I know Uborevich very well,” said Mikoyan. “A most honest man.” So Stalin reassured him that the military themselves would judge the generals: “They know the case and they’ll figure out what’s true and what’s not.”7
Stalin tossed Deputy Premier Rudzutak into this broth perhaps pour encourager les autres, the first of the Politburo (a candidate member) to be arrested. “He indulged too much in partying with Philistine friends,” recalled Molotov, which in Bolshevik doublespeak meant cultured friends. Becoming something of a bon viveur, “he kept his distance from us.” Typical of Stalin’s allies in the twenties, he was unreliable, even accusing Stalin of slandering him just after Kirov’s assassination. “You’re wrong, Rudzutak,” Stalin had replied. He was arrested at dinner with some actors—it was said that the ladies were still wearing the rags of their ball gowns in the Lubianka weeks later. “He was entangled . . . mixed up with devil knows what kind of people, with women . . .” said Molotov, and, added Kaganovich, “young girls.” Perhaps he was shot for conviviality. Yet Molotov explained, “I think consciously he was not a participant [in a conspiracy],” but he was guilty nonetheless: “One must not act on personal impressions. After all, we had materials incriminating him.” The NKVD now began to arrest many of the Old Bolsheviks, especially those obstinate Georgian “old farts” who had crossed Stalin.
At first the leadership were actually canvassed on arrests, according to Party tradition: the signed votes in the archives capture the vile frenzy of this process. Usually the leaders just voted “For” or “Agreed” but sometimes in their desperation to show their bloodthirstyness, they added rabid exclamations:106 “Unconditionally yes,” wrote Budyonny on the arrests of Tukhachevsky and Rudzutak. “It’s necessary to finish off this scum.”8 Marshal Yegorov, whose actress wife (Stalin’s flirtation at that dinner in November 1932) was already under investigation, wrote: “All these traitors to be wiped off the face of the earth as the most hostile enemies and disgusting scum.” 9
On 1 June, Stalin, Voroshilov and Yezhov gathered over a hundred commanders in the Kremlin and broke the news that their High Command overwhelmingly consisted of German agents. Voroshilov unveiled this “counter-revolutionary conspiracy fascist organization,” admitting he himself was close to the conspirators. He was guilty of not wanting to believe it!
The next day, Stalin spoke, conjuring a miasma of mystery over the terrified meeting: “I hope no one doubts that a military–political conspiracy existed,” he threatened, explaining that Tukhachevsky had been suborned by Trotsky, Bukharin, Rykov, Yenukidze, Yagoda and Rudzutak. As in any good spy novel, Stalin sought to chercher la femme, playing on Tukhachevsky and Yenukidze’s womanizing. “There’s one experienced female spy in Germany, in Berlin . . . Josephine Heinze . . . she’s a beautiful woman . . . She recruited Yenukidze. She helped recruit Tukhachevsky.” Officers were actually arrested during the meeting so it was hardly surprising the survivors supported Stalin.10
Voroshilov revelled in his vengeance. “I never trusted Tukhachevsky, I never particularly trusted Uborevich . . . They were scoundrels . . .” he declared to the Defence Commissariat, embroidering Stalin’s tale of sexual depravity. “Comrades,” he said, “we have not purged everyone yet. I personally don’t doubt there are people who thought they were only talking, that’s all. They chattered: ‘It would be a good thing to kill Stalin and Voroshilov’ . . . Our government will exterminate such people.”
“Right,” shouted his applauding audience.
“They were degenerates,” said Voroshilov. “Filthy in their private lives!”11
On 9 June, Vyshinsky interviewed the accused and reported to Stalin twice, arriving at the Little Corner at 10:45 p.m. The Politburo reviewed the officers’ appeals, passing them round the table. On Yakir’s plea, Stalin wrote: “A scoundrel and a prostitute.”
“A completely precise description,” Voroshilov slavishly added. Molotov signed but Yakir’s best friend, Kaganovich, almost had to dance on his grave: “For this traitor, bastard and s—t, there is only one punishment— execution.”12
On the 11th, the Supreme Court convened a special military tribunal to try the “traitors.” The reptilian Ulrikh represented the Military Collegium but the key judges were the Marshals themselves. Budyonny was one of the most active, accusing them of “wrecking” by urging the formation of armoured divisions.
“I feel I’m dreaming,” Tukhachevsky remarked of the accusations. There was no mention of Josephine, the gorgeous German spy. Ominously, many of the generals were accused of serving a “second Motherland,” Yakir being a Bessarabian Jew. Most of the judges were terrified: “Tomorrow I’ll be put in the same place,” one of them, Corps Commander Belov, told his friends afterwards. (He was right.) All were sentenced to death at 23:35 that day. Ulrikh rushed over to report to Stalin who, waiting with Molotov, Kaganovich and Yezhov, did not examine the sentences. He just said: “Agreed.” Yezhov returned with Ulrikh to supervise the executions which took place within the hour early on the morning of 12 June. As ever, Stalin was sadistically curious.
“What were Tukhachevsky’s last words?” Stalin asked Yezhov.
“The snake said he was dedicated to the Motherland and Comrade Stalin. He asked for clemency. But it was obvious he was not being straight, he hadn’t laid down his arms.”
All the judges were later shot except Ulrikh, Budyonny and Shaposhnikov. If Budyonny had any doubts about supporting the Terror, the NKVD arrived to arrest him soon after the trial. He pulled out a pistol and threatened to kill the Chekists while he t
elephoned Stalin who cancelled the arrest. His wife was not so fortunate.
Voroshilov unleashed a massive purge of the army, personally demanding the arrests of three hundred officers in letters to the NKVD107: by 29 November 1938, Voroshilov boasted that 40,000 had been arrested and 100,000 new officers promoted. Three of the five marshals, fifteen of the sixteen commanders, sixty of the sixty-seven corps commanders, and all seventeen commissars were shot. Stalin earnestly encouraged the witch-hunt at informal meetings with officers.
“We don’t know up to now whether we can speak openly about Enemies of the People or not . . .” naval commander Laukhin asked.
“To speak in public?” responded Stalin.
“No, here, internally?”
“We must—it’s obligatory!” answered Stalin. The commanders discussed individual officers.
“Gorbatov is now worried,” reported Kulikov, a divisional commander in Ukraine.
“Why should he worry,” replied Stalin, “if he is an honest man?”
“I wouldn’t say he is pure. He was clearly connected,” said Kulikov.
“Is he scared?” asked Stalin.
The army had been the last force capable of stopping Stalin, reason enough for the destruction of its High Command. It is possible that the generals knew about Stalin’s record as an Okhrana double agent and had considered action. The usual explanation is that German disinformation persuaded Stalin that they were plotting a coup. Hitler’s spymaster, Heydrich, had concocted such evidence that was passed to Stalin by the well-meaning Czech President Beneš. But no German evidence was used at Tukhachevsky’s trial—nor was it necessary. Stalin needed neither Nazi disinformation nor mysterious Okhrana files to persuade him to destroy Tukhachevsky. After all, he had played with the idea as early as 1930, three years before Hitler took power. Furthermore, Stalin and his cronies were convinced that officers were to be distrusted and physically exterminated at the slightest suspicion. He reminisced to Voroshilov, in an undated note, about the officers arrested in the summer of 1918. “These officers,” he wrote, “we wanted to shoot en masse.” Nothing had changed.13
Stalin: The Court of the Red Tsar Page 27
