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Yugoslav representatives, while Vyshinsky was going to represent the Soviet Union);
there had been "sincere and exhaustive discussions" on the measures to be taken to hasten the end of the war against Germany and her satellites, and on the setting up of "close military co-operation between the three Powers in future"; it was also agreed that the
"closest co-operation" must continue between the three Powers after the war. A Four-Power Declaration (the work chiefly of Cordell Hull) was signed on the unconditional capitulation of the Allies' "respective" enemies; in addition to the Big Three, the Chinese Ambassador in Moscow also signed this document on his country's behalf. (The Russians were no longer much scared of provoking the Japanese and were anxious to please Hull who had set great store on this Declaration, which gave China a Great-Power status.) Another of the statements foreshadowed the constitution of a United Nations
Organisation. The Conference also published a statement on Austria, in effect warning the Austrians not to cooperate with Germany to the bitter end, and urging them to
contribute to their own liberation—a principle of which much was later to be made in Rumania, Bulgaria, etc. Finally the Conference published a Roosevelt-Churchill-Stalin declaration on war criminals. They established the principle that these criminals would be returned for trial to the country where the alleged crimes had been committed.
Eden and Cordell Hull were optimistic both during and after the Conference. During an interval at the Bolshoi (they were playing the inevitable Swan Lake) I remember Eden telling me: "This is a good conference—better late than never. But the question of travelling to Moscow is infernally complicated. Here we've got to set up the right kind of machinery—we want it, and the Russians want it, too. If the machine is functioning, we'll find it much easier to deal with a problem like Poland. What we are striving for is to get the machinery set up, and to set as many things as possible down on paper."
He got this "machinery" in the form of the European Advisory Commission, but it was quite clear that both at the Moscow Conference and, later, at Teheran, Poland was among the problems that were inevitably shelved. At the Moscow Conference there was much
talk of getting both Turkey and Sweden into the war, but this led to nothing. On direct Soviet-Western military co-operation the Russians were still reserved, and did not
respond very favourably at first to the American proposal for shuttle bombing, with the setting-up of US air bases in Soviet territory. Nothing was going to be decided about this until February 1944.
Cordell Hull, though very tired at the end of the Conference, received the Press at the US
Embassy and sounded very pleased:
When I started out over here, (he said) most people thought that nothing would
come of this meeting, since Russia was liable to go the isolationist way.
[ It is amusing to think that, just as Hull dreaded Russian isolationism so, by 1945, the Russians dreaded American isolationism—one reason, by the way, why they insisted on
UN having its headquarters in the USA.]
Yet we exchanged at length our views, and were tremendously gratified to find that the Soviet statesmen were more and more disposed towards the view that
isolationism was bad... Now the spirit of co-operation has been born, and we can
begin to build. Now, indeed, was the time to get together. The foundations have been laid. Some problems are delicate and complicated, but with the spirit of harmony
existing between us, nothing can bring estrangement."
He then hinted that the three heads of governments would meet shortly, and sounded
particularly pleased with the Four-Power Declaration which included China. There was, however, still a Herculean task ahead of the Allies—problems like the future of Poland and Germany had not yet been settled, but consultation on both questions were in
progress.
He also said that AMGOT (Allied Military Government in Occupied Territories) would
gradually disappear and that the EAC would have an ever-growing number of problems
to deal with. And then:
Stalin is a remarkable person showing at once unusual ability and judgment and a
grasp of practical problems. He is one of the leaders who, together with Roosevelt and Churchill, has a responsibility which no other man may have in the next 500
years... There is no hard feeling among the Russians about the Second Front, as far as I know... I do not know of two nations with fewer antagonistic interests and more common interests than the USA and Russia...
Eden also was very pleased with the Conference:
When we first arrived here, we thought the prospects were very bleak, and that all the Russians would do would be to scream for the Second Front. I should be
surprised if they started screaming now, for they now know it is coming. Instead, this Conference was very big stuff, the beginning of a new form of co-operation
between us. The teamwork was admirable. Today I discussed military problems
with Molotov for two hours. Poland? Yes, it will be discussed through diplomatic
channels...
On October 30, as President of the Anglo-American Press Association I presided at the lunch we gave to Eden and Cordell Hull (represented by Harriman) at the Hotel National.
We did not think Molotov and the other top Russians would come, but much to our
surprise the Protocol Department rang up and hinted that invitations would be welcomed.
Here was real cordiality! True, Molotov did not come, but Vyshinsky and Litvinov did.
In my speech of welcome I referred, among other things, to Eden's and Litvinov's gallant stand at Geneva and at Nyon, and made a crack or two at Chamberlain— without naming
him—which went down very well. Eden sat to my right, and the terrible Vyshinsky (now with a sugary smile) to my left, and the whole atmosphere was very matey indeed.
Quoting Churchill's remark, earlier in the year, about the "autumn leaves", Vyshinsky said: "Well, it is customary for the autumn leaves to fall in autumn, but if they fall in spring—well, I suppose that's okay, as long as they do fall." (He was now clearly resigned to the Second Front in 1944). Litvinov said the League of Nations had
unfortunately turned out to be a Tower of Babel, not a solid Pyramid; the nations of the world must do better next time.
Harriman was in a slightly truculent mood and pointedly talked about the war in the
Pacific, saying that if it hadn't been so successful there wouldn't be much prospect of America helping with the Second Front in Europe.
At the extravagant Kremlin Banquet that crowned the Conference, Stalin seemed in an
exuberant mood. Despite all the earlier unpleasantness over the Northern convoys, he now paid a tribute to the British Navy and the Merchant Fleet: "We don't talk much about them, but we do know what they do." The new head of the British Military Mission, General Giffard Martel rapturously congratulated Stalin on the forcing of the Dnieper only shortly before: "No other Army in the world could have performed such a feat!" The short era of mutual compliments and congratulations had set in.
The two chief American military representatives in the Soviet Union, the anti-Soviet General Michela, and General Faymonville who was notorious for the optimistic analyses of the military situation in Russia he had been sending Roosevelt ever since 1941, often to the disgust of the State Department—were both withdrawn and replaced by a regular Military Mission with General John R. Deane at its head. The Russians were soon to find him a very tough negotiator, who was particularly sticky in organising lend-lease
deliveries, always first asking the Russians for full explanations as to whether they really needed the stuff for military purposes, or merely for postwar reconstruction.
The Soviet press was very pleased with the Foreign Ministers' Conference. The
Revolution-Day Festivities on November 6 and 7, which were marked by tremendous
<
br /> fireworks in honour of the liberation of Kiev by Vatutin's troops, took place in an
exuberantly cheerful atmosphere.
Stalin's speech reviewing the events of 1943—"the year of the great turning-point"—in which he paid the warmest tributes both to the Red Army and to the Russian war effort, was also particularly cordial in its comments on the Anglo-American Allies.
Taking together the blows struck at the Germans and their allies in North Africa
and Southern Italy, the intensive bombing of Germany ... and the regular supplies of armaments and raw materials that we are receiving from our Allies, we must say
that all this has greatly helped us in our summer campaign... The fighting in
Southern Europe is not the Second Front, but, all the same, it is something like the Second Front... Naturally, only a real Second Front—which is now not so far away
—will greatly speed up victory over Nazi Germany, consolidate still further the
comradeship-in-arms of the Allied States.
He was particularly pleased with Italy dropping out of the war, thought that Germany's other satellites, knowing that "only bumps and bruises were now in store for them," were frantically looking for ways and means of getting out of Hitler's clutches. He suggested that, in 1944, Germany would lose all her allies. She was now clearly "facing
catastrophe".
On the night of the 7th Molotov gave his biggest war-time party. The whole diplomatic corps were now back in Moscow, and it was an extremely sumptuous and exceedingly
drunken affair. Molotov was going round the guests, proposing innumerable toasts, and, towards the end of the evening, had to be supported on both sides in his further progress through the crowded rooms of the Spiridonovka. He was jovial and looked like a man
who was relaxing—certainly for the first time in more than two years. But he carried his liquor much better than others. The first to leave were the Japanese diplomats who had been received with marked coolness; but not very long after, they were followed by a procession of Excellencies who were simply carried out, feet first. The British
Ambassador had fallen flat on his face on to a table covered with bottles and wine-
glasses, and had even slightly cut himself. There was also something of a row between Molotov and the Swedish Minister, whom Molotov upbraided for the peculiar
"neutrality" Sweden had been pursuing. The said Minister was soon afterwards recalled by his Government. The whole party sparkled with jewels, furs, gold braid, and
celebrities. The gold braid on the new Russian pearl-grey diplomatic uniforms rivalled that of the generals and marshals. Shostakovich was there in full evening dress—looking like a college boy who had put it on for the first time—and there were dozens of other stars of the literary, musical, artistic, scientific and theatrical firmaments. The party had something of that wild and irresponsible extravagance which one usually associates with pre-Revolution Moscow. There never was to be another party quite like it in subsequent years. But Molotov must have enjoyed it. There was something splendidly Muscovite in this entertainment of watching Ambassadors in all their regalia falling flat on their faces and being carried out by Russian underlings whose chuckles kept breaking through their expression of deep concern.
We need not recount here the familiar story of the Teheran Conference, except to say that the Russians were satisfied with it—as far as it went. A firm decision had at last been taken to launch "Overlord" in May, an operation that would be supported by a great Russian offensive. Also increased help was to be given to Tito's Partisans.
Some of the remaining "military" decisions—e.g. concerning the eventual entry of Turkey into the war on the side of the Big Three— were to remain a dead letter.
The Partition of Germany was discussed, but no definite decisions were taken; an
agreement of sorts was reached on the approximate future frontiers of Poland, though the question of the Neisse frontier was left unsettled and the question of the Polish
Government was shelved.
Churchill had pleaded in favour of a lenient Russian treatment of Finland, and had
received some half-assurances from Stalin on that score. In the end, Finland was to be let off fairly lightly by the Russians, less because of any half-promises made to Churchill, than in virtue of Russia's own peculiar "Scandinavian" policy, with Swedish neutrality as its centre.
Stalin promised to take part in the war against Japan after the capitulation of Germany, but on terms still to be settled.
None of this was publicly disclosed at the time; what was announced in the final
communiqué was that:
We have concerted our plans for the destruction of German forces. We have
reached complete agreement as to the scope and timing of the operations which will be undertaken from the east, west and south. Our offensive will be merciless and
cumulative.
The Russians were going to get their real Second Front at last. It was on this note—
which caused immense satisfaction in Russia— that the victorious but very hard year of 1943 ended for her. A year that had carried the Red Army all the way from Stalingrad and the Caucasus to Kiev and beyond. Over two-thirds of the German-occupied territory had been liberated. But it was still a long way to Berlin.
Perhaps Stalin was not bluffing when he said at Teheran that the Red Army was growing war-weary, and that it needed something to encourage it. The Teheran communiqué did
it.
It came as a shock to many when, less than two months after Teheran, Pravda published its famous "Cairo Rumour" story about secret separate peace negotiations going on between Britain and Germany "somewhere in the Iberian Peninsula". Was this calculated to discourage that excessive post-Teheran euphoria that had developed in Russia, or was it a reflection of Stalin's irritation with Churchill who had been much more "difficult" at Teheran than Roosevelt had been? Significantly., the Americans did not figure in the
"Cairo Rumour" story; Roosevelt was treated throughout as a very loyal friend and ally of the Soviet Union.
This is not altered by the fact that Roosevelt failed to give any serious thought to the tentative Russian suggestions—both in 1943 and in 1944—for large-scale economic cooperation between Russia and America after the war, complete with a seven-billion-dollar loan for Russian reconstruction. Such "co-operation" was known to be favoured by certain important American business interests, but frowned upon by others, among
whom, it was believed, was Ambassador Averell Harriman.
PART SEVEN 1944: Russia Enters Eastern
Europe
Chapter I SOME CHARACTERISTICS OF 1944
1943 was, in the Russian phrase, the perelom year—the year of the great turning point.
Since Stalingrad and especially since Kursk the Red Army had been sweeping west
almost without a break. Two-thirds of the vast territory occupied by the Germans in
1941-2 had been liberated by the end of 1943, and although the Germans still held most of the Western Ukraine and of Belorussia and the whole Baltic area, and were still
shelling Leningrad, the Russians were preparing for the final expulsion of the Germans from the Soviet Union in 1944. What is more, the Red Army, on its way to Germany, was going to find itself in non-Russian territory all the way from the Balkans to Poland, and this was going to create a number of new political, diplomatic and psychological
problems. Since Stalingrad and especially since the fall of Mussolini, Germany's satellites (Finland, Rumania, Bulgaria, Hungary, Slovakia) were looking for ways and means of
getting out of "Hitler's war" with the minimum damage to themselves. Already very early in 1944 the first peace-feelers were put out by Finland, Hungary and Rumania. The
Teheran Conference had finally convinced these countries that the fighting alliance of the Russians and Anglo-Americans was a much more solid enterprise than German
propaganda had t
ried to make out. The more conservative elements in these countries
were hoping to soften the rigours of a Russian occupation by an active participation of Britain and the United States in any kind of peace settlement. Thus, Admiral Horthy, in his first peace-feeler, was ready to break with Hitler provided Hungary was jointly
occupied by Soviet and Anglo-American troops.
Poland continued to be the central problem in East-West relations, and was to lead to many new complications in the course of 1944; not that it was, in essence, a problem very different from say, Rumania, Bulgaria or even Czechoslovakia; but it turned out to be the test-case on which a seemingly uncompromising stand was taken by both the Russians
and the Western Powers. In the case of Czechoslovakia, for instance, there was some
friction and unpleasantness between Benes and the London Government-in-exile on the
one hand, and Gottwald, Kopecky and the other "Moscow Czechs" on the other, but it did not come to an open conflict until long after the war.
[ Gottwald, for example, criticised the Czechoslovak Government in London (in some
articles in Pravda and elsewhere) for not encouraging a more vigorous resistance to the Germans inside Czechoslovakia.]
The Russians maintained reasonably correct relations with the Czechoslovak "London Government", and never attempted to set up a rival pro-Communist Czechoslovak
Government either in Moscow or in the liberated part of Czechoslovakia. Whether the
Russians had any long-term plans for the future or not, they seemed willing to try out the Czechoslovak experiment of an East-West Co-existence Shopwindow.
On the face of it, President Benes's visit to Moscow in December 1943, almost
immediately after Teheran, and the signing of a Soviet-Czechoslovak Pact of Friendship, Mutual Assistance and Post-War Co-operation, were a great success, even though the
atmosphere surrounding the visit was not free from all kinds of mental reservations —not least in the relations between Benes and Zdenek Fierlinger, the Czechoslovak
Ambassador, who was working hand-in-glove with Gottwald and Kopecky, and was to be
one of the villains of the Prague coup of 1948. But much was made of the blessing given by Benes to the Czechoslovak Army units fighting on the Soviet Front, and to their