1939: The Outbreak of the War in Europe
1939-1942 (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1942) 10,900 views
September 30, 2019
1. Confusion in Moscow
As far as Russia was concerned, everything hinged on the one question: Would the Western Powers enter the war? Moscow, as a matter of fact, even more than Berlin, anticipated a new appeasement move on the part of England and France. In spite of its vast intelligence system, Moscow completely misjudged European events. The Kremlin possessed a great deal of information but not correct judgment. So the Russians were caught completely off guard when England and France declared war on Germany three days after Hitler attacked Poland.
The Havas correspondent in the Soviet capital reported the same thing; Russians laughed and shrugged their shoulders when foreigners told them that the British and French would fight. “The news of the war,” reported the Moscow correspondent of the London Daily Telegraph, “astonished the Russians. They expected a compromise.”
Posledniya Novosti carried the following account from Moscow: [1]
Events in Europe have completely stupefied the Russian people. Up to September 1 everyone in the Kremlin was certain that the democracies would not declare war on Germany; that they would capitulate to Hitler; and that the German-Polish conflict would end in a conference patterned after Munich. Hence they considered it advantageous to be on the side of the strong rather than the weak. Molotov and particularly Zhdanov had no doubt but that the new European conflict would result in another bloodless victory for Hitler and Von Ribbentrop.
The Soviet Envoy to Poland, Sharonov, visited the Polish Foreign Minister, Beck, on September 2, at the very moment when German troops were invading Poland but while the war in the West was still a day off. Apparently at the instructions of Moscow, Sharonov inquired why Poland was not negotiating with Russia regarding supplies.[2] Beck was not a little surprised at this strange inquiry. He at once instructed the Polish Envoy to Moscow, Grzybowski, to ask for a clarification of the Soviet proposal. By the time Grzybowski got to see Molotov, however, England and France had already declared war, and the Soviet Premier and Commissar for Foreign Affairs had already assumed a different tone. Grzybowski reported his conversation with Molotov to Beck on September 8:
Sharonov’s suggestions are no longer opportune. Molotov has informed me that the intervention of Great Britain and France has created an entirely new situation. At present the Soviets must remain outside the conflict … For us, said Molotov, Poland is now synonymous with England.
Grzybowski also inquired about the possibility of procuring raw materials and other supplies in Russia. Molotov replied that Russia could deliver only orders already placed, and that military materials could not be supplied at all since their transit might be in contradiction to the Soviet-German agreement.
Gradually the clouds of war were thickening over neutral Moscow. On September 7 an order was issued for a mobilization covering the Ukraine, White Russia, and four other military districts. This mobilization was not announced officially and was not mentioned by the press. But the news spread rapidly among the people, and the secrecy with which it was carried out enhanced the anxiety of the Russians. There was, for some reason, a general belief that Russia was about to enter the war against Germany, since no Russian, with the exception of the small group in the Kremlin, could conceive of his country fighting against any other power.
A wartime atmosphere pervaded the country. People began feverishly to stock up on foodstuffs and soon most of the consumer goods had disappeared from the stores. Savings-bank deposits were being withdrawn. An order of the Commissariat of Internal Affairs to “crack down” on hoarders and to prosecute “speculators who seek to profit from the war” as usual in such circumstances merely increased their activities.[3] Even in the ranks of the Soviet Communist party there was much confusion. Few of its members were aware that the Kremlin had laid its plans for a large-scale military and diplomatic campaign. Collaboration with Germany was generally discounted. On the other hand, the passivity of the Soviet rulers in the face of the “struggle against Fascism” that was now going on was as incomprehensible in Russia as it was abroad. It was against these mute inquiries that Molotov thundered when he denounced with scorn those “people who refuse to see farther than their noses and who let themselves be taken prisoner by mere anti-Fascist propaganda.”
Only gradually did the Soviet press begin to accustom itself to the situation and to adopt the tone which it then kept until June, 1941. News about internal conditions in Germany disappeared from the pages of Soviet newspapers and the Nazi neighbor was no longer an object of criticism. Reporting assiduously the tragic economic conditions in the belligerent and even neutral countries, Russian newspapers maintained a strict silence on Germany. Occasionally Soviet magazines gave facts about the activities of Communist parties in other countries, but almost nothing about the German Communist party. Favorite slogans such as “warmongers” were aimed solely against Germany’s enemies. Outwardly, the Soviet press maintained a correct attitude toward Germany: “We must live in peace with our great neighbor” seemed to be its unspoken motif.
This special tone of neutral Moscow was not adopted at once but developed gradually. While mobilization was still in progress, between September 7 and 16, military reports in the Soviet newspapers were extremely limited. Most of their space was still being devoted to minor internal questions. But as military preparations were about to be concluded, the press began to prepare public opinion for the shock of coming events. On September 14 the first articles concerning Poland were published widely in the Soviet newspapers. A careful analysis of these shows that their aim was to create a definite impression upon the Russian masses, and undoubtedly upon the rest of the world. They were designed to suggest that Soviet Russia had no intention either of fighting or of extending her territories, and her pact with Germany gave her a guarantee of peace; but the rapid “disintegration of the Polish state,” unexpected even to Russia, forced the Soviets to consider the fate of neighboring territories, particularly of their “blood-brothers, the White Russians and Ukrainians” inhabiting Eastern Poland.
The intentions and plans of the Soviet Government were cloaked in complete secrecy. Few people realized that the mobilization was but a prelude to more aggressive action on the part of Russia, the plan for which, worked out beforehand, was based on the Russo-German Pact.
As soon as her mobilization was completed, Russia embarked upon diplomatic and military action. One of the most feverish periods in the operation of Soviet foreign policy opened on September 17, when Moscow broke officially and unceremoniously with Poland. On September 23 Soviet troops approached the borders of Estonia and on the 26th those of Latvia. The Kremlin at once began diplomatic conversations with the governments of these countries. After Estonia and Latvia came the turn of Lithuania and Finland. It was also assumed that the question of Bessarabia would be settled just as speedily, certainly before the close of 1939.
2. The Partition of Poland
The criticism of the policy of the Polish Government toward her numerous and large national minorities—a criticism which had been carried on in the Soviet press over a period of years—served to justify the radical measures which the U.S.S.R. now took against the Polish state.
During 1918–20, following the restoration of Polish independence by the Treaty of Versailles, the young Polish Republic extended its territory far beyond its original ethnographical borders. In April, 1920, Poland attacked Soviet Russia and after a war that lasted six months an armistice was concluded in October; the peace treaty was signed in Riga on March 18, 1921. Poland obtained vast Russian territories which extended beyond the line of demarcation (the so-called Curzon Line) set for Poland by England in 1920. These Russian territories came to be known as Kresy Wschodnie.
In the Kresy the Poles constituted a minority, in some parts a very insignificant one. Yet these eastern provinces comprised 32 per cent of the territory of the Polish state. Their population of 10 millions was mostly Ukrainians, White Russians, and Jews. As a result, this large state with a population of 34,000,000 even according to official Polish statistics counted only 23,000,000 Poles or 68 per cent of the entire population. According to other sources there were only 20,000,000 Poles living in the Polish Republic. During the two decades of Polish independence this large group of non-Poles was in constant conflict with the Polish state and was a perpetual source of irritation to the Polish Government.
Soviet military action began on September 17—two weeks after war was declared by the Western Powers. Russia had required that much time to complete her mobilization. At five o’clock in the morning of September 17 Soviet troops crossed the Polish frontier all the way from Latvia to Rumania. Two hours earlier Potemkin, the Vice-Commissar of Foreign Affairs, had summoned the Polish Ambassador, Grzybowski, and handed him a note stating that Russia was breaking off relations with the “disintegrated Polish state.” Grzybowski refused to take cognizance of that communication. At four o’clock in the morning Molotov informed the German Ambassador that Red troops were crossing the Polish border. Later on the same day, commenting on this note in a speech, Molotov gave what is by now the classic explanation of Russia’s action toward Poland:
One cannot expect the Soviet Government to remain indifferent to the fate of our kindred Ukrainians and White Russians inhabiting Poland, whose status heretofore was that of nations without any rights and who are at present subjected to the will of chance. The Soviet Government deems it its sacred duty to extend a helping hand to our Brother Ukrainians and Brother White Russians who live in Poland.
Molotov’s note to the Polish Ambassador said virtually the same thing and in practically the same words: “… the Polish state and its government have, in fact, ceased to exist. Therefore the agreements concluded between the U.S.S.R. and Poland have ceased to operate.” Referring to the “kindred Ukrainian and White Russian people, who live on Polish territory and who are at the mercy of fate,” he informed the Polish Ambassador that “under these circumstances, the Soviet Government has directed the High Command of the Red Army to order the troops to cross the frontier and to take under their protection the life and property of the population of Western White Russia.”
It should be noted here that Molotov’s note ended with a reference not only to the Ukrainians and White Russians but to the Polish people themselves. “At the same time the Soviet Government proposes to take all measures to extricate the Polish people from the unfortunate war into which they were dragged by their unwise leaders, and to enable them to live a peaceful life.” In subsequent statements this reference to the Polish people was omitted. Apparently it referred to the more westerly line of demarcation originally agreed upon, which would have included in the territories that fell to Russia large areas of compact Polish population. The Russo-German frontier in Poland was later drawn much farther toward the east.
On the same day, September 17, in an extremely curt note presented to all the foreign representatives stationed in Moscow, Molotov declared that Russia did not intend to become involved in the European war. “I have the honor to inform you,” the note stated, “that the U.S.S.R. intends to pursue a policy of neutrality.”
All these actions of the Soviet Government, which were certainly unexpected to the people of Russia and which shook world public opinion, could, of course, be interpreted variously. They were indeed interpreted and reinterpreted almost endlessly. Some observers foretold the possibility of Russia joining the war against the Western countries on the side of Germany. Others, on the contrary, anticipated that once the Red Army encountered the German forces in Poland a struggle would ensue. The deep secrecy surrounding the new partition of Poland added to the confusion, which was further confounded by Molotov’s short note on Soviet neutrality and by the joint Soviet-German declaration issued the following day, September 18. That declaration read as follows:
In order to avoid unfounded rumors concerning the aims pursued by Soviet and German forces now in Poland, the Government of the U.S.S.R. and the Government of Germany declare that neither of the troops pursue aims contrary to the interests of Germany or the Soviet Union or contrary to the spirit and letter of the pact of nonaggression signed between Germany and the U.S.S.R. On the contrary, the aim of these troops is to restore order in Poland, disturbed by the disintegration of the Polish state, and to assist the Polish population in the reconstruction of its national existence.
The reaction to Russia’s invasion of Poland was almost identical in all countries except those which adhered to the Axis. Even the staid London Times on this occasion employed rather sharp words. “To the Soviet,” said the Times of September 18, 1939, “belongs the base and despicable share of accessory before and after the crime and the contempt which even the thief has for a receiver who shares none of his original risks.” Despite this moral indignation, however, the consequences of Russia’s action were not altogether clear. Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain, for instance, stated cautiously on September 20 that “it is too early to pronounce any final verdict on the motives or consequences of the Russian action, but for the unhappy victim of that cynical attack the result has been a tragedy of the grimmest character.”
Even greater was the confusion that existed in Soviet Russia and in the ranks of the Red Army itself. Beginning September 18, meetings were held “spontaneously” in all cities, towns, factories, and collective farms. As usual, the sympathy of the participants was assured, and the resolutions passed were approved beforehand by the proper authorities; thus it is impossible to judge the sentiments of the Russian people by these resolutions. As a rule they were merely variations on Molotov’s speech of September 17. In reporting the meetings the Soviet press quoted slogans contained in these resolutions,
“We shall rescue our oppressed brothers.”
“Our sacred duty is to aid our oppressed brothers.”
“The great Soviet people extends a brotherly and helping hand to the oppressed peoples of Western White Russia and Western Ukraine.”
“The Polish Pans oppressed, exploited, and Polonized by force and coercion the national minorities, especially the Ukrainians and White Russians.”
On its march into Poland the Red Army was completely ignorant of its final destination. Many in its ranks were under the impression that they were on their way to fight the Germans. To add to the confusion, Soviet airplanes were dropping leaflets in Polish informing the population that the “Red Army comes as a friend and not as an enemy—as the liberator of the oppressed masses.” The entire Russian march into Poland lasted only a few days. Polish military resistance was weak, and victories were won at little cost. The best testimony to this effect is the losses suffered by the Russians in the course of the invasion: 737 killed and 1,862 wounded.[4] The German armies, which in their first advance had gone beyond the line of demarcation, were now retiring, having first made the eastern provinces of Poland secure for the Red Army. The Soviet press preferred not to mention this, but the evident military collaboration between Germany and Russia made a strong impression on the outside world.
Five days after the Red Army invaded Poland, Russia and Germany announced the demarcation of their new frontier in Poland. It followed the rivers San, Vistula, and Pisa, and cut the city of Warsaw in two. Had this first frontier been left in force, Russia would have received in addition to Western White Russia and Western Ukraine, a large territory populated by Poles, and the purely Polish population would have been divided between Russia and Germany. This frontier, which had been agreed upon before Russia invaded Poland, was to a certain degree based on the former, pre-1914 boundary between the two countries. On the basis of the new frontier, Germany was to receive the smaller part of Poland (about one-third) but more than she had dominated prior to 1914. On the other hand, of former Austrian Poland, Eastern Galicia was to go to Russia. In effect, Germany was thus exchanging Austrian Eastern Galicia for Russian Poland, including such large cities as Warsaw, Lodz, and others, lying beyond her pre-1914 borders.
On September 23 the official Dienst aus Deutschland, in referring to the new frontier in “former Poland,” mentioned that “an agreement about the line of demarcation was already in existence when the Government of the U.S.S.R. gave the order to the Red Army to cross the borders.” Only certain details had to be decided upon during the military conversations in Moscow. “Details relative to the transfer of certain areas remained to be worked out during the conversations that took place between Germany and Soviet officers,” stated the Völkischer Beobachter on September 24, 1939. “These conversations lasted only a short time—not days but hours. In the meantime the exchange of territories occupied hitherto by German troops continued in a comradely atmosphere.”
This agreement on the new frontier did not last long. In the midst of the Russian campaign in Poland a new exchange of territories took place. Germany conceded Lithuania to Russia, although according to the agreement of August 23 Lithuania lay within the German sphere of interest; and received in return, according to some sources, an additional strip of Polish territory to the east of the line of demarcation previously arranged.[5] Now the frontier followed the rivers Pisa, Bug, and San, about 70 to 100 miles east of Warsaw. The additional Polish territory which now fell to Germany contains about 5,000,000 inhabitants.
The territory acquired by Russia represented an ethnic unit, but from a strategic point of view, according to many military experts, Germany had the advantage.[6] The wedge-shaped Suwalki district, for instance, which fell to Germany now was militarily of great importance and was to play its role at the start of the German offensive in June, 1941. The U.S.S.R. received in all 76,500 square miles, with a population of 12,800,000. Of these more than 7,000,000 were Ukrainians, 3,000,000 White Russians, more than a million Poles, and about a million Jews. The Soviet Ukraine received 35,000 square miles of territory with a population of 8,000,000; Soviet White Russia, 41,500 square miles with a population of 4,800,000.
On October 22, “elections” to the “People’s Assemblies” took place in the provinces ceded to Russia. According to official Soviet information, more than 90 per cent of the eligible voters cast their ballots. In Western Ukraine 4,434,000, or 92.9 per cent of the eligible voters, participated in the elections. The official candidates approved by Moscow ran on a single ticket as the “candidates of social organizations” and received 90.9 per cent of the total vote cast. Thus 9 per cent of the voters opposed the official candidates—a proportion which is not negligible under the conditions. The picture is similar in White Russia where 2,672,000—96.7 per cent of the voters—participated in the elections. The official candidates received 90.7 per cent of the total vote cast, with 9 per cent voting against them.
Four days after the elections the “People’s Assembly” of Western Ukraine passed a resolution requesting the Soviet Government to incorporate their territory into the U.S.S.R. and to confiscate all land, banks, and large industries. A similar resolution was passed on October 29 by the Assembly of White Russia, and on November 1 the Supreme Soviet of the U.S.S.R. “recommended” that these requests be granted and that the eastern provinces of Poland be incorporated into the U.S.S.R. Thus the fate of the eastern parts of Poland became, for a period, strictly a matter of internal Soviet politics.
3. The Apex of Russo-German Friendship
At no time since the war began were relations between Russia and Germany so friendly as during Von Ribbentrop’s second visit to Moscow, on September 27–28, 1939. This was the high point in their relationship. It was the moment when the whole world was aghast at Germany’s military might. The conquest of Poland in fifteen to twenty days was a triumph for Hitler. At the same time the bloodless expansion of Soviet territory seemed to justify Stalin’s policy and reconciled many within Russia who had been doubtful at first of the wisdom of the Soviet-German Nonaggression Pact. Thus far the results achieved by the pact were indeed brilliant. Hitler’s star was at its zenith but Stalin’s star, too, shone brightly.
The arrangements for Von Ribbentrop’s second arrival in Moscow on September 27 resembled those of a triumphal procession. When the German Foreign Minister with his suite landed at the Sokolniki airdrome the Soviet band struck up the Internationale. The German guests stood at attention. Next came the Horst-Wessel Song (the Nazis’ gory anti-Communist anthem) and foreigners present noticed that the Moscow band played it without a single slip. Ribbentrop had brought Molotov’s wife, Mrs. Zhemchuzhina, a present from Hitler, a Mercedes automobile, of the best German make. Zhemchuzhina took this occasion to thank him appropriately, “I like Herr Hitler’s present much better than the one the French gave,” she said. “The French presented me with a Sèvres vase, and I had to give it to a museum.”
To please Stalin, Ribbentrop had learned by heart a few verses of a poem by the famous twelfth-century Georgian poet, Rustaveli. At the triumphal breakfast that followed at the Kremlin with Stalin present, Herr von Ribbentrop, between bites of shashlyk and gulps of Georgian wine, displayed his knowledge of Georgian poetry. In between the business conversations that now followed there was also the customary visit to the opera and joint posing for photographs. As a mark of esteem for the honored guest, the Moscow radio refrained on that day from broadcasting Communist propaganda in German.
In taking leave of his hosts on September 29, Herr von Ribbentrop expressed his regret that his visit had been so brief. “The next time,” he said, “I hope to remain longer.” As he was entering his plane the Soviet guard of honor raised their right hands in an imitation of the Hitler salute.
This external display of pomp heightened the effect of the decisions which were reached between the two governments. In conversations between Stalin, Molotov, and Von Ribbentrop the Russo-German frontier was finally fixed. They also agreed on economic collaboration and on a joint “peace offensive,” which in fact proposed to Great Britain and France that they end their war against Germany at once.
The “Treaty of Mutual Friendship and Convention on the Subject of Frontiers” signed by Von Ribbentrop during his visit to Moscow is the chief document dealing with the partition of Poland, and the most important feature of this short agreement was the map which supplemented the description of the new frontier. It is interesting to note that this agreement, too, which was to be subject to later ratification, entered into effect “from the moment of its signature,” in order to enable both countries to begin at once the “necessary state reconstruction” of their newly acquired Polish territories. This agreement was ratified only three weeks later and by that time the “state reconstruction” was well under way.
It is also interesting to note the terminology employed in the agreement. Obviously referring to the secret understanding of August 23, it speaks not of the frontier of both states but of “their respective state interests in the territory of the former Polish state.” [7] Finally in article 2 there is threatening reference to England and France: “Both countries recognize as final the frontier between their respective state interests, as set forth in article 1, and will resist any interference with this decision on the part of other powers.”
This wording represents the essence of Berlin’s foreign policy at that period: the organization of Eastern Europe is the exclusive concern of Germany and Soviet Russia; the war of the Western Powers against Germany should be ended at once. The West, in other words, must accept as a fait accompli the state and territorial revisions brought about by Germany and Russia in the East. Hence the joint declaration published on September 28 under the signatures of Von Ribbentrop and Molotov:
After the Government of the German Reich and the Government of the Soviet Socialist Republics have definitely settled by the treaty signed today the question resulting from the disintegration of the Polish state, thus creating a safe foundation for lasting peace in Eastern Europe, they unanimously express the opinion that it would correspond to the true interests of all people to make an end to the war existing between Germany on the one hand and England and France on the other hand. Therefore, both governments, if necessary in conjunction with one of the friendly nations, will direct their joint efforts toward carrying out this aim as soon as possible.
Then follows a threat:
But should the efforts of both governments fail, then the fact would be established that England and France are responsible for the continuation of the war, and in case of continuation of the war the Governments of Germany and Soviet Russia will consult each other regarding the necessary measures.
Nothing concrete was meant by the word “consult” in this instance and it carried with it no obligation for either side. Germany, undoubtedly, would have preferred a more direct threat by Russia, but Moscow, for all its collaboration with Berlin, did not want to become involved in war on Germany’s side and preferred to maintain its own brand of neutrality. The promise to “consult” was merely a compromise.
For Germany this joint declaration was of great value. Immediately following its publication the Communist parties of the various anti-Nazi countries began a widespread campaign for immediate peace. On October 4 the Communist party of Great Britain issued a strongly worded proclamation calling for immediate “negotiations for the restoration of peace in Europe.” The French Communist party worked in the same direction. The ground having been thus prepared, Hitler was able to propose in the Reichstag on October 6 the summoning of a peace conference.
Additional weight was given to Germany’s call to end the war by the new trade agreement also signed on September 28 between Von Ribbentrop and Molotov. In a letter from Molotov to Von Ribbentrop the Soviet Government, “relying on the general political understanding reached and in its spirit,” was “ready to develop with all means economic relations and the exchange of goods between Germany and Soviet Russia.” [8] A new economic program was to be drafted, with Russia supplying Germany with raw materials for which Germany was to compensate her by industrial deliveries “stretched out over a long period of time.” Moreover, this program was to be so carried out “that the German-Soviet exchange of goods should again reach the maximum level of the past.”
The most interesting point in this letter was the reference to German industrial deliveries “stretched out over a long period of time.” This obviously meant a delay in German payment for Soviet exports. Unexpectedly then, Soviet Russia became the creditor, whereas Germany, whose export surpluses were, because of the war, rather limited, became the debtor. Apparently Russia was thus to repay Germany for her acquisition of Eastern Poland.
Subsequently, drawing a balance sheet of Russo-German relations during that period, Molotov intimated that what Russia needed was a strong Germany: “We were always of the opinion that a strong Germany is a necessary prerequisite for the preservation of a stable peace in Europe. An attempt at another Versailles in the present international situation may end in a complete crash.” [9]
Regardless of the contents of this or any other specific document, the Moscow conference, following as it did the liquidation of Poland, the joint declaration to the belligerent powers, and the display of economic collaboration in defiance of the British blockade, gave the impression to the outside world that Russo-German military collaboration was now a fact. Indeed, Von Ribbentrop sought beyond doubt to create abroad the impression that Germany and Russia were now bound together by a military alliance, with strictly defined roles assigned to each partner. Elsewhere, Russia was beginning to be considered more and more as part of the German pattern of things. Her much-advertised “anti-Fascism” was now regarded as camouflage. The assumption grew and flourished that she might any day join the Axis, and that a common program for a “new partition of the world into spheres of interest” would unite Japan, Italy, Germany, and Russia against the old empires, Great Britain, France, the United States, and Holland. Germany, on her part, encouraged such speculations and theories, based on the impressions which the outside world had gained during the honeymoon of Russo-German friendship.
4. The Baltic Campaign
Soviet Russia opened her diplomatic offensive against the Baltic countries simultaneously with the advance of the Red Army into Poland. On September 18, the day following the invasion of Poland, Tass released a significant but puzzling communication to the effect that, “according to trustworthy sources, Polish submarines have taken refuge in naval bases belonging to Baltic States with the connivance of the ruling circles,” and that one submarine interned in Tallinn, the capital of Estonia, had disappeared. “It is believed that this was another case of negligence on the part of the Estonian authorities.” [10] This communication was the signal for Russia’s diplomatic and military campaign in the Baltic.
The speed with which the Kremlin undertook to solve a number of knotty problems in the second half of September was caused by the progress of the German campaign in Poland. The war was rapidly coming to its close, and Germany was offering peace to the Western Powers. Russia, who now aided Germany in this “peace offensive,” was not at all certain but that Hitler’s offer would be accepted. The revision of the frontiers in Eastern Europe had to be speeded up so that the coming European Peace Conference would be faced with a fait accompli.
The Russian Baltic campaign differed from that in Poland in every respect. According to Molotov’s agreement with Germany, Latvia and Estonia, although within the Soviet “sphere of interests,” were not to be sovietized. Their social and economic order was to remain untouched. In general, it was not within the realm of possibility for Russia to annex these states outright, as it had done in the case of Eastern Poland. But Moscow was to be permitted to send troops into their territories, a factor which was extremely valuable strategically for her. Stalin must have taken a grim pleasure in exercising this right. Only three months before these two states, to avoid an agreement with Russia and Great Britain, had run to Hitler’s arms and had protested loudly against a guarantee of their borders which would be “tantamount to aggression.” Now, in reply to panicky reminders from Tallinn and Riga of their pacts, Hitler merely shrugged his shoulders and advised his “kindred” Germans to leave these states as quickly as possible.
Within Russia the invasion of the Baltic, coming as it did after the acquisitions in Poland, was an ace in the hands of the Soviet Government. In the eyes of the non-Communist intelligentsia, to whom Bolshevism had formerly been a symptom of weakness and national disintegration, these territorial gains which restored the frontiers of the Czarist Empire became an argument in favor of the Soviet Government. Stalin could now safely assume the role which he had long coveted of a “Communist Peter the Great.” Like Peter he was a ruler who could combine radical internal reforms with territorial expansion achieved by a harsh and unwavering policy. Stalin’s successes made a strong impression not only within Russia but even among Russian political emigrants abroad.
The main difficulty which presented itself at this time was one of secondary importance: How was this military venture into the Baltic States to be explained officially to the world at large? In terms of strategy, it could be directed against but one country, the state which dominated the Baltic Sea, Germany. The occupation of the Baltic countries could have no other military significance. But these were the honeymoon months of Russo-German friendship. Moscow therefore had to indulge in considerable hypocrisy and to employ such feeble excuses as the argument that it was imperative to defend Estonia and Latvia as well as the Baltic shores of the Soviet Union against British aggression. “Basing itself on Estonian territory, the British fleet attempted in 1919 to attack Kronstadt. In the postwar years the British fleet held maneuvers every summer in the Baltic Sea, and there were even negotiations regarding the sale of the Estonian island of Oesel to England.” [11]
Germany echoed Russia’s complaints. Employing the same hypocritical excuses, she pointed to England as responsible for Russia’s invasion of the Baltic countries. For Germany, to be sure, the loss of these advance posts of her influence in the Baltic was a grievous blow. But for the moment she had to keep a straight face. The Deutsche Allgemeine Zeitung recalled to mind that in 1925 Great Britain had sought to gain influence in the Baltic, but “now the right to settle all questions concerning the Baltic is in the hands of the Baltic nations.” Pravda of course cheerfully reproduced this “convincing argument.” [12]
Estonia
The official Soviet report that Polish submarines were operating in Baltic waters from Estonian bases was one of the danger signals which brought the Estonian Foreign Minister, Karl Selter, to Moscow, ostensibly for “trade negotiations.” Actually the negotiations had little to do with trade. On September 25, after only two days in Moscow, Selter returned to Tallinn, accompanied by a number of representatives of the Estonian Legation. The threat of an immediate break with the Russian colossus hung over the little Baltic Republic. On the 26th new detachments of the Red Army were moved up to the Estonian border, and the next day Selter again hurried to Moscow, this time bringing with him the assent of his government to the conclusion of a Russo-Estonian Pact of “mutual assistance.”
The French magazine, Le Match, gave a graphic description of Selter’s second trip to Moscow: On landing at the Moscow airdrome he discovered that only a minor official of the Narkomindel, a certain Vasiukov, was on hand to welcome him. Selter asked after the Estonian Minister to Russia, who was supposed to be there. After twenty minutes he was informed by telephone that the Minister had been detained about two miles from the airdrome and that his documents were being examined. In the company of Vasiukov Selter went to the Narkomindel. Here, too, he was received not by Molotov or even his assistant but by a secondary official named Zhelezniak.[13]
“There will be no preliminary conversations,” Zhelezniak informed Selter curtly. “You have the Soviet proposals and there can be only one answer: Yes or no. Molotov will receive you this evening, and you must be ready with the answer.”
That evening Molotov received the Estonian Foreign Minister. He confirmed the Soviet demands and added that at any moment Soviet airplanes might fly over Estonian territory and should they be fired on, Estonian fortresses would at once be subjected to bombardment.
On the following day, September 28, the Soviet-Estonian Pact of Mutual Assistance was signed. This was the first of a series of similar pacts which were eventually signed between Russia and the small Baltic States.
As formulated by Moscow, this pact was an extension of the friendly relations established between Russia and Estonia by the Peace Treaty of February 2, 1920. The two contracting parties undertook “to render each other every assistance, including military assistance, in the event of direct aggression or a threat of aggression arising on the part of any great European power against the sea frontiers of the contracting parties on the Baltic Sea or against their land frontiers across the territory of the Latvian Republic.” Estonia was not obligated to come to Russia’s assistance in case the Soviets became involved in a military conflict with Japan, Rumania, or any other power. Only in case of war with Germany on land or with the fleet of some large power at sea was Estonia bound to come to Russia’s aid. Estonia further granted the Soviet Union the right to maintain naval bases and several military flying fields on a number of her islands, leased at reasonable terms, as well as to maintain at the expense of the Soviet Union “land and air armed forces of strictly limited strength.”
Particularly significant from the Estonian point of view was article 5 of the pact which read in part: “The fulfillment of this pact must not affect in any measure the sovereign rights of the contracting parties, in particular their economic systems and state organizations.”
At the same time Estonia also signed a trade agreement with Russia which provided for an increase in trade between the two countries to four and one-half times the existing volume, or about 39,000,000 Estonian crowns.[14]
These agreements with Estonia were signed by Russia the same day that Molotov signed the second agreement with Von Ribbentrop. The Soviet press commented upon them widely, emphasizing the clause on the respect for Estonian sovereignty and the inviolability of Estonia’s economic and social system. The Kremlin’s promise not to sovietize or communize Estonia, which provoked much astonishment both in and out of Communist ranks, was hailed by the Russian press as a further proof of the Soviet’s belief in the principles of independence and national self-determination.
Aggression and the desire to oppress smaller nations are alien to the spirit of the U.S.S.R. The Soviet people is interested in lasting peace and in fraternal collaboration with other peoples. Such collaboration can be realized only if it is based on mutual trust and the principle of noninterference in each other’s internal affairs. Because it respects the sovereignty of other states, the Soviet Union does not interfere in their internal affairs.[15]
Such was Russia’s official explanation of the pact. The reaction of the Estonian press was similarly veiled. Estonia was on the brink of disaster; no one actually believed that with Soviet troops on its territory it would remain sovereign for long. Nevertheless the Estonian press was compelled, officially at least, to express elation at the outcome of the Moscow negotiations and to assure the Estonian people that Soviet intentions were strictly honorable.
… The forces of the Soviet Union [wrote Piavalekht October 17] do not come to Estonia for the purpose of establishing a protectorate. Nor do they come to us to change our social and economic system, or to spread new doctrines in our territory. Rumors to this effect are categorically denied by the Soviet agency as absurd and false.
In the meantime Moscow was already carrying on conversations with Latvia, and under the circumstances the Latvian newspapers reported the Soviet-Estonian Pact under headlines that smacked of forced enthusiasm: “The Soviet Union fully recognizes the sovereignty of the Baltic States,” “The Baltic States can view their future optimistically,” and so forth.
Finally, Karl Selter himself delivered a speech in which he stated that Estonia had no reason to fear the Soviet Union. Rumors that Estonia no longer existed as an independent state he denounced as nonsense and pure invention. On October 15 eleven Soviet warships dropped anchor in the port of Tallinn, and detachments of Soviet troops landed on Estonian territory.
Latvia
Latvia’s turn came after the agreements with Germany and Estonia had been signed, and Ribbentrop and Selter had departed from Moscow. Quite simply the Riga government was ordered to send its representatives. Inasmuch as both Riga and Moscow had now had experience in negotiations of this sort, it did not take them long to reach an agreement. Everything was prepared in advance. The terms of the agreement were almost identical with those imposed on Estonia. The comments of the press and the reaction of world public opinion also followed a similar pattern.
The Latvian Foreign Minister, Munters, arrived in Moscow on October 2 and was met at the airfield by the Acting Commissar for Foreign Affairs, S. Lozovsky. This time the airport was decorated with Soviet and Latvian banners. Unlike the Estonian Minister, Munters negotiated directly with Stalin and Molotov; after two days of negotiation the agreements were signed.
At their first meeting Molotov handed Munters an ultimatum giving him forty-eight hours to reach a decision. In case the Soviet proposals were rejected, the ultimatum stated, Russia would take all necessary measures. There could be little doubt as to the nature of the “necessary measures,” since the conversations were carried on in the presence of Marshal Voroshilov and the Chief of the Soviet General Staff, Shaposhnikov. Munters attempted to bargain and negotiations continued for another hour. An officer then entered the conference room and announced the arrival of the members of the Defense Council who had been “invited to discuss guarantees for one of the Baltic States. …” On leaving Molotov, Munters went to see the German Ambassador, Von der Schulenburg, as Latvia and Germany were bound by an agreement recently concluded. Schulenburg advised Munters to submit, and twenty-four hours later, on October 5, the Soviet-Latvian agreement was signed.
“The Mutual Assistance Pact between the U.S.S.R. and the Latvian Republic” repeated word for word the pact signed the previous week with Estonia. In this case, too, the contracting parties undertook to render each other every assistance, including military, in the event of a direct aggression or of threat of aggression arising on the part of any great European power against the sea frontiers of the contracting powers or their “land frontiers across Estonia and Lithuania.” Latvia was thus obligated to come to Russia’s assistance only in case of a war in the Baltic. Germany was especially referred to although not mentioned by name. Russia in turn guaranteed to Latvia the exercise of her sovereign rights and the status quo in her “economic system and state organization.”
On October 18 the two governments also signed a trade agreement which provided for trebling the volume of trade, to about 60,000,000 lats a year. Latvia received the right to transport goods over the territory of the Soviet Union, and the Soviet in turn agreed to increase its transport of goods through Latvian ports, which hitherto had been negligible, amounting to only about 300,000 rubles per year in value.[16]
The Latvian press, in unison with the Soviet and German newspapers, went into raptures over the new agreements. The Riga Rits stated that Latvia had nothing to fear since the Mutual Assistance Pact had been worked out with the active participation of Stalin himself, “the most authoritative political leader of the Soviet Union.” [17] In a speech of October 24 Munters likewise insisted that there was no reason to fear the Soviet Union. Germany, too, had to keep a smiling face, although she had now lost Riga which was extremely valuable to her. The official Völkischer Beobachter welcomed the pact and the trade agreement, for “Latvia had suffered greatly from the military operations in the East.” The Deutsche Allgemeine Zeitung expressed satisfaction over the fact that “the right to decide upon matters concerning the Baltic belongs exclusively to the Baltic States.” The Soviet press was equally enthusiastic. “The Latvian state,” Pravda wrote, “has practically no fleet or air power. Henceforth, however, the Latvian people know that they will receive military equipment and materials on favorable terms from the U.S.S.R.” [18]
According to Pravda, the Soviet negotiations with Estonia and Latvia indicated “how carefully the Soviet Government respects the rights of small nations” and with what “respect the U.S.S.R. listens to the proposals of the states with which she makes pacts.”
Latvia granted Soviet Russia naval bases at Libau and Windau, a number of airfields, and the right to establish artillery posts on the coast between Windau and Pitraga. On October 30 the Red Army entered Latvia.
Lithuania
The negotiations with Lithuania followed a somewhat different course. Lithuania had no common border with Russia, hence the danger of Soviet aggression seemed somewhat more remote than to Latvia and Estonia. On the other hand, one of her neighbors, Poland, she had for eighteen years regarded as an implacable enemy. After Zeligowski’s seizure of Vilno in 1920, there were no diplomatic relations between Lithuania and Poland, and not even a railroad connection until March, 1938. Lithuania’s other neighbor, Germany, had invaded the Memel district in March, 1939, and deprived her both of the Baltic port of Memel and of possession of the district, or Klaipeda. Thus Lithuania regarded Russia more or less as her protector against these two large and aggressive states. It would be incorrect, however, to overemphasize this fact and to assume that the Lithuanian people submitted without apprehension to Soviet military occupation. Their feelings were decidedly mixed.
Moscow in turn regarded Lithuania differently from her two Baltic neighbors. Unlike Estonia and Latvia, Lithuania had never joined in a pact with Germany. Moreover, Poland was the enemy of Lithuania as well as of the Soviet Union. Lithuania had never given up her demand that Poland return the city of Vilno—the capital of medieval Lithuania, which had been forcibly seized in the early days of Polish and Lithuanian independence; Moscow supported Lithuania’s claim.
As early as September 3, 1939, immediately following the German invasion of Poland, voices were raised in Kaunas demanding the return of Vilno. This demand was repeated frequently during the war between Poland and Germany, and particularly after the Red Army had invaded Eastern Poland. At this time, however, the fate of the Lithuanian Republic itself was as yet uncertain. On September 4 rumors began to emanate from Berlin that Russia had not received the right to occupy Lithuania and that this country would remain as a buffer state between Germany and the U.S.S.R.[19] On September 19, when Soviet troops, marching through Poland, approached the Lithuanian border from the direction of Vilno, there occurred a “fraternization of Soviet and Lithuanian soldiers,” which prompted the United Press to cable from Kaunas that “Lithuania might share in the new partition of Poland.” At this time Kaunas again put forward its demand for the return of Vilno to Lithuania.
On September 18 Soviet troops had entered Vilno. The same day Molotov received the Lithuanian Envoy to Moscow and assured him that no military operations would take place on Lithuanian soil. The following day the Kaunas radio officially raised the question of the return of Vilno.
On September 29 Von Ribbentrop flew back from Moscow to Berlin with a new and final solution of the Lithuanian question in his pocket. Immediately after his departure, Molotov invited the Lithuanian Government to send a delegation to Moscow.
When the Lithuanian Foreign Minister, Urbshis, arrived in Moscow he was received by such high Soviet dignitaries as Marshal Voroshilov and Lazar Kaganovich. A magnificent reception was arranged for the occasion. Urbshis, nevertheless, had to return to Kaunas twice to consult with his government, and the Lithuanian-Soviet Pact was signed only on October 10.
This pact was somewhat more involved than the two previous Baltic agreements and included a clause providing for the return of the city and district of Vilno to Lithuania.[20] The recovery by Lithuania of its largest city and ancient capital was, from a strictly national point of view, an event of major significance. At last one problem which for two decades had poisoned the political atmosphere in the Baltic and stood in the way of complete economic readjustment of the Baltic States was solved. Inasmuch as Moscow had also promised, with Stalin’s assent, not to sovietize Lithuania, the little Baltic Republic had indeed good cause to rejoice. Farsighted political analysts predicted a storm to follow sunny days, but for the politicians of the small European states shortsighted policies were the rule rather than the exception.
Stalin’s reason for turning over Vilno to Lithuania is not quite clear, as the majority of the city’s population was not even Lithuanian. Vilno was always an important Communist center. No sooner had Soviet troops entered the city when there began what is described in Communist terminology as a rapid process of socialization. To Stalin this was indeed a triumph. Then suddenly, for some inexplicable reason, Vilno was transferred to “capitalist Lithuania,” which was at the same time assured of sovereignty and of economic and social inviolability. The Lithuanian Communists organized a demonstration in front of the Soviet Legation in Kaunas, carrying placards which read: “We do not want Vilno to become Lithuanian; we want Kaunas to become Soviet.” The demonstration was dispersed by the Kaunas police and there were even a few arrests.[21]
Was the return of Vilno to Lithuania a gesture on the part of Stalin, another manifestation of Russia’s “respect for the rights of small nations”? Such a conjecture seems baseless since it is contrary to the whole course of Soviet foreign policy during that period. Was this solution agreed upon with Germany when Lithuania was transferred from the German sphere of interest to the Soviet sphere? This is possible,[22] but a definitive answer to this question must await the opening of the secret archives.
Outwardly the Soviet treaty with Lithuania was more favorable to the weaker partner than those with Estonia and Latvia. Article 1 stated that, “in order to strengthen the friendship between the U.S.S.R. and Lithuania, the city of Vilno and the district of Vilno are hereby returned to the Republic of Lithuania by the U.S.S.R., to be reunited with the territory of the State of Lithuania.” As a liberal innovation, the Russians introduced a clause providing for “mutual consultation” in specific cases as, for instance, “in the event of a direct aggression or a menace of aggression against Lithuania or the U.S.S.R. through the territory of Latvia.” In such case, “both contracting parties will at once consult with each other and take all such measures as will be mutually agreed upon as necessary.” This almost gave the illusion of complete equality between the two signatories. Finally, in addition to stating, as the other two agreements had, that it did not affect the sovereign rights of the contracting parties, in particular their economic system and state organization, the pact provided that Soviet Russia would follow a policy of “noninterference in the internal affairs” of Lithuania.
In all other essential points the pact with Lithuania followed the pattern established by the agreements with Estonia and Latvia. Soviet Russia received the right to maintain on Lithuanian territory land and air armed forces “of strictly limited strength,” and in turn was obligated to aid the Lithuanian Army with equipment and other supplies of a military nature.
A week later a new trade agreement was also signed between Moscow and Kaunas which established the exchange of goods between the two countries at 40,000,000 lits, or twice the existing volume.
This time elation was genuine enough, though of a narrow, shortsighted character. Patriotic demonstrations took place in Kaunas, and the Lithuanian negotiators were received as heroes on returning from Moscow. The Lithuanian press sang odes of praise to the Soviet Union and published large portraits of Stalin, Molotov, and Kalinin. The newspaper Apzhvalga commented gleefully: “Just as nineteen years ago, the return of Vilno to Lithuania comes as a result of cardinal changes in the political structure of Eastern Europe. Once again the return of our ancient capital is guaranteed by an agreement with the U.S.S.R.”
The Soviet press went into rapturous comments upon the magnanimity of the Soviet Government, and the sacred rights of small nations. There was no end to their ecstasy. Even the usually restrained and staid Bolshevik adopted a different tone on this occasion.
The foul breath of imperialist wars in Europe poisons the atmosphere of the small and so-called neutral states which find themselves within the sphere of influence of the powerful capitalist countries … Switzerland … Holland … The news from Eastern Europe, however, is of an altogether different character. The news from there is joyful and inspiring. The return of Vilno [to Lithuania] is an illustrious act which only the Soviet Union was able to accomplish. Ever since achieving her independence, Lithuania has lived in fear of aggression. Now this threat is removed.[23]
In all the Red Army spent forty days in Vilno; this was an epochal period in the history of Lithuania as well as of the Red Army. When the troops entered Vilno, they were greeted as saviors from the “Brown Menace.” This was particularly true of the Poles and Jews who constituted the great majority of its population. “The Red Army men, both soldiers and officers, considered themselves protectors of Vilno against the Nazi terror. At the frontiers, for instance, all a Polish refugee had to do was to tell the Red soldier or officer that he was running from the Hitlerites to be permitted to cross the border without even showing his documents.” In general the Red Army men made an excellent impression on the people of Vilno. “They were extremely courteous, lenient, and did not employ profane language. They did not rob the civilian population and paid for all purchases in cash. They sought to avoid conflicts.” [24]
To the Red Army men of all ranks this invasion of Vilno and of the other Baltic States brought many surprises. This was their first opportunity to become more closely acquainted with living conditions in the “bourgeois states” about which they had heard so much in their military schools and academies. The unexpected discovery that living standards in these capitalist countries were higher than in Soviet Russia, that the “capitalist” economic mechanism worked with greater efficiency than their own, was altogether incomprehensible to these Russians. The Russian journal Novyi Mir gives a remarkable account of this first contact of the Soviet troops with “capitalist” civilization:
Can I buy some candy? a Red Army man asks at a little candy store.
You certainly can, replied the storekeeper.
Can I buy even a pound? asks the Red Army man.
If you have the money, you can even buy two pounds.
The Red Army man buys up the whole candy stock of the store.
What particularly amazed the soldiers was the abundance of shoes for sale, compared with Soviet provincial towns. One man remarked compassionately to a storekeeper :
“You must have an extremely poor country. In our country we would have bought out your stock in no time.
Another remarked: “You must have a better propaganda apparatus than ours. Look at all the goods you have prepared for the arrival of the Red Army.”
Nevertheless, reports Novyi Mir, “it must be truthfully said that when the Red Army troops evacuated Vilno, few tears were shed.” Because the Soviet soldiers and officers bought up everything they could lay hands on, toward the end of their stay in Vilno all commodities, foodstuffs as well as manufactured goods, disappeared. One could not even buy bread in Vilno, and the city was faced with starvation. Machines, mechanical equipment in the plants and factories, were dismantled and shipped to Russia. At the same time the Soviet G.P.U. carried out arrests among the inhabitants and deported many of them to the interior of Russia. For many, the departure of the Red troops was certainly a relief. The advancing Lithuanian forces were greeted with genuine enthusiasm by the people of Vilno.
On October 27 the Red Army withdrew from Vilno and handed over the city to the Lithuanian authorities. The Lithuanian Premier telegraphed to Molotov to express the gratitude of his government. In the meantime Soviet troops were occupying quarters allotted them by the Lithuanian Government.
5. Transfer of Population
The policy of forcibly sorting out and reshuffling populations according to their nationality or race has been a cardinal principle in the National Socialist pattern of power, especially since 1939. Even where Germany borders on a politically kindred state, as in the case of Italy, she has pursued the same policy of compulsory resorting of national groups. A special German organization operating under the slogan Heim ins Reich has returned to Germany tens of thousands of German nationals from all parts of the world. In 1938 30,443 Germans—or about 2,500 per month—migrated to Germany with the aid of the German Government. Early in 1939 this movement of population reached the figure of 4,000 a month.[25]
So important a role does the principle of “national integration” play in the ideological and political make-up of National Socialism that even in wartime, despite the lack of adequate transport facilities, this sifting out of the civilian population according to national and racial origin has been going on uninterruptedly and tens of thousands of men, women, and children were continually being transferred from one part of Europe to another. About 400,000 Germans were moved out of the eastern territories that fell within the Soviet sphere of interest as a result of the Russo-German Pact. (Incidentally, Heinrich Himmler, the head of the Gestapo, was given charge of the repatriation of Germans.) Hundreds of thousands of Jews have been shifted into the so-called “ghetto regions” from other parts of Poland as well as from Germany proper and from France. All this while Germany has been engaged in a gigantic military struggle.
As for Soviet Russia, national segregation plays no part in its ideology or its political system. However, for one reason or another, Russia too had shifted large groups of the population in the 1930’s, and when Von Ribbentrop requested, on the basis of the new Russian and German “spheres of interests,” that the German population be repatriated from the Russian “sphere,” the Kremlin raised no objections. In 1935 the Soviet Government itself had moved whole villages from the Finnish frontier [26] for reasons of defense; it had also evacuated, apparently for the same reasons, large numbers of people living near its frontier with Poland. In 1931–34, at the height of collectivization of Soviet agriculture, hundreds of thousands of well-to-do peasants, the so-called “kulaks,” were exiled by the government to the North and to the East.
When the Russo-German agreements were concluded in August, 1939, the German Government had economic and political reasons as well as national and racial motives for requesting the transfer of Germans to the Reich. In placing Eastern Poland and the Baltic States within the Russian “sphere of interest,” Hitler insisted upon the right to repatriate not only German nationals but also all other persons of German origin who might wish to go to Germany. He anticipated, of course, the sovietization of these areas and feared its economic effect on the Germans, who represented the more prosperous sections of the population, particularly in the Baltic States. Finally, he had no doubt but that Stalin would readily agree to this request. The Germans who lived in Soviet Russia proper, and particularly in the provinces that now fell within the Soviet sphere, were the element most susceptible to the influence of National Socialism. Stalin could expect that in a crisis it would be among them the Nazis would recruit their “fifth columns” and other agents. It is therefore reasonable to assume that the decision on the “transfer of population” was reached with less difficulty than some of the other German-Soviet agreements.
For Germany, which had regarded the Germans in Russia and especially in the Baltic States as a bastion of its influence in the East, the question of repatriation was a painful one. It certainly meant a loss of prestige for them. In their day the Baltic Germans—there were altogether 100,000 of them—had played an important role in Czarist Russia, a role altogether out of proportion to their number. They had held high positions at court, in the universities, and in the administration. As early as the beginning of the twentieth century, and long before the rise of National Socialism, all German dreams of a “Greater Reich” had stressed the idea of expansion toward the east with the aid of these “Ostdeutsche.” Under the German monarchy they had served as a link between the court of William II and that of Nicholas II. The Russian Government had found in the “German barons” of the Baltic provinces the most fanatical opponents of revolution and the unswerving supporters of the monarchy. Later they had produced a number of prominent Nazi leaders, like Alfred Rosenberg, who had begun their “struggle against Marxism” while still under Russian rule and long before the rise of National Socialism.
The German propaganda now had to resort to peculiar arguments in its attempts to explain to the German people this policy in the Baltic States. In his desire to avoid mentioning the Soviet threat to Germany, Hitler explained the repatriation of the Baltic Germans in his speech of October 6, 1939, as follows:
The entire east and southeast of Europe are populated by fragments of the German nation which are frequently the cause of friction between states. In our epoch, when the idea of integrated nationality and of racial superiority has triumphed, it would be Utopian to hope that it is possible simply to assimilate the members of this superior nation! … By mutual consent Germany and Soviet Russia agreed to support each other in this matter of repatriating Germans to Germany and Russians to Russia.
In the meantime rumors spread that this evacuation of the German population was being carried out at Russia’s request. Moscow denied these rumors. The explanation which was offered simultaneously in Moscow, in Berlin, and in the Baltic States was that the repatriation of Germans was being effected expressly on Germany’s initiative and solely in a spirit of friendship toward Russia. At the same time another version was mooted about which, although quite typical of the times, did not correspond to the reality. According to this Moscow was not even a party to the business of repatriation. The following comment, for instance, was published in the official Deutsche Diplomatische-Politische Korrespondenz:
Germany’s negotiations with Latvia and Estonia about evacuating German nationals from these countries testify once again to the fact that the German Government does not intend to exploit the Germans living abroad for imperialist aims. By this move Germany emphatically denies once again the allegation that she is striving to attain hegemony in Europe and underscores the limitation of her interests, as does also her agreement with the U.S.S.R. Germany considers that this is the most appropriate moment to return the Baltic Germans to their homeland.
This version, which, like Hitler’s speech, was designed to mask the real motives for shifting the German population, was also supported publicly by the Latvian Premier, Ulmanis, in a speech which he made on signing the Latvian-German Agreement on repatriation. Obviously at the insistence of Moscow, he stated:
Groundless rumors are being spread that the departure of the German inhabitants is connected with the Latvian-Soviet Pact. How little truth there is to such conjectures can be seen from the fact that the repatriation of Germans began from countries which have not concluded pacts with Russia. [He was referring to Finland where the German Minister in Helsinki had advised the German population not to lose any time in settling their affairs and departing for Germany.] The repatriation of the German population is being done expressly at the request of the German Government and is unrelated to any other events.[27]
The Soviet agency, Tass, also went out of its way to emphasize the absence of any connection between the evacuation of the Germans from the Baltic States and the mutual assistance agreements which the Soviet Government was then negotiating with Latvia, Estonia, and Lithuania.
Three and a half million Germans lived in Europe outside the borders of the Reich: out of this number 1,200,000 were in Soviet Russia; 62,000 in Latvia; 15,000 in Estonia; 35,000 in Lithuania; 80,000 in Bessarabia and 40,000 in Bukovina, etc. Out of these large groups of Germans Hitler’s government decided to repatriate in the first place those who inhabited Latvia, Estonia, and Eastern Poland. The negotiations with Latvia and Estonia proceeded smoothly and speedily, and agreements were concluded on October 8. Supplementary agreements were signed on October 15 with Estonia and on October 30 with Latvia. By them Latvia and Estonia agreed to release from Latvian and Estonian citizenship all persons of German origin, including prisoners and soldiers, who might wish to be repatriated. The entire process of repatriation from Latvia and Estonia was to be carried out with the utmost dispatch and to be completed by December 15, or within two months after the agreements had been ratified. The property of the repatriated Germans, which, according to some sources, amounted to some $200,000,000 or $300,000,000, could not be taken out of these countries because of existing restrictions on the export of valuables and foreign exchange. The emigrants had to leave their former homes with insignificant sums of money, and their properties were taken over by an agency specially organized to liquidate them. Money realized from the sale of their property was credited to a special German organization.[28] Thus Germany had a further motive in adopting this scheme of repatriation. It was tantamount to finding new sources of gold or foreign exchange, since she could now to a certain extent demand from the states in question goods to the value of the money credited to the special German organization.
The speed with which the evacuation was carried out worked hardship on many of the departing Germans. With literally two days’ notice many of them had to give up homes which had been settled by far-off ancestors and board German steamers. They were settled finally in the former Polish district of Poznan (now renamed Warthegau, with Posen as its capital). Here some of them were located on farms confiscated from exiled Polish peasants, or in cities where they received the homes, shops, and factories of deported Jews and Poles. In the meantime, all German associations were liquidated in the Baltic States.
The second wave of large-scale repatriation of Germans occurred in the provinces of Eastern Poland which had been ceded to Russia. Soon after the agreements with Latvia and Estonia, the German commission which had negotiated them left for Moscow to discuss the repatriation of the Germans of Eastern Poland. Within two weeks an agreement was reached; it was signed on November 3, 1939. According to some sources this agreement also included the repatriation of Germans who lived on pre-1939 Russian territory. On the other hand, Russians, Ukrainians, and White Russians who had been left within the German sphere were given the right to move to Russian territory.
Unfortunately, while a great deal is known about the shifting of Germans from the Baltic States, there are few concrete data on the Russo-German exchange of population. Foreign correspondents were barred from the areas concerned, and neither the German nor Russian press had much to report on these repatriations.
Although the agreements on repatriation had been reached without difficulty, the process of evacuation was not frictionless. Without accusing Russia directly, many stories were published in German newspapers describing the hardships that the German emigrants had experienced during the evacuation, particularly German farmers who had had to travel for several days before reaching a railroad station, and had been forced on the way to dispose of the food and the few personal belongings which they had taken with them. Many évacués reported to the German authorities the disappearance of relatives and friends.
The third wave of evacuation affected about 90,000 Germans from Bessarabia and 44,000 from Northern Bukovina. They were sent first to Yugoslavia and then to various parts of Poland and Germany. (This question will be referred to again in connection with the Soviet annexation of Bessarabia in June, 1940.)
Subsequently, on January 10, 1941, two more agreements were signed simultaneously in Riga and Kaunas covering the transfer of Germans from Lithuania, Latvia, and Estonia and also the repatriation of Russians and Lithuanians from the Memel and Suwalki districts which were occupied by Germany. The nationals involved were given two and a half months to depart for the countries which they chose. Of these 67,805 persons went to Germany and 21,343 were repatriated to Russia.
Altogether 437,000 Germans were repatriated from Russia and the Russian sphere during the war: [29] 63,000 from Latvia, 12,000 from Estonia, 130,000 from Volhynia, Galicia, and the Narew district, 30,000 from the Lublin-Kholm area, 90,000 from Bessarabia, 44,000 from Northern Bukovina, 68,000 from Lithuania, and the rest of the Baltic States.[30]
According to the Soviet-German Agreement, the following three groups of Soviet citizens had to be evacuated from German-occupied regions into Soviet Russia: (1) refugees from Soviet Russia; (2) students having their residence in Soviet Russia; (3) Soviet citizens who happened to be under German jurisdiction at the outbreak of the war. Originally it was estimated that there were 600,000 to 1,000,000 Russian nationals (including Ukrainians, White Russians, and Jews) in German Poland. Out of this number 35,000 were repatriated to Russia during February 1940; and another group of 21,343 was transferred at the beginning of 1941, following the agreements of January 10.
After the break between Germany and Russia, Hitler drew up a balance of the entire repatriation campaign. He leveled some bitter accusations against the Soviet Government:
Many more than 500,000 Germans [31] were forced to leave their former homes practically overnight in order to escape from a new regime which at first treated them with boundless cruelty and sooner or later threatened them with complete extermination … Thousands of Germans disappeared. It was impossible ever to determine their fate, let alone their whereabouts. To all this I remained silent because I had to.[32]
Somewhat later the German press hinted that among the repatriated Germans there were many secret Soviet agents. But the Germans, on the other hand, acquired thousands of people who had an intimate knowledge of Soviet Russia, of its geography and social conditions. At the outbreak of the Soviet-German War these Germans from the Baltic States, from Poland, Volhynia, and other eastern territories undoubtedly played an important role in the German advance. They were an extremely valuable instrument in carrying on propaganda in the conquered territories and in organizing them economically and politically.
6. Soviet Russia and the British Blockade
England informed Russia of her naval blockade of Germany in notes of September 6 and 11, 1939. In this connection the British Government detained a number of vessels laden with rubber purchased by Russia. In turn the Soviet Government postponed the departure of twelve British ships carrying Russian timber valued at $5,000,000. On September 10 Moscow issued an official statement through Tass to the effect that “the actions of the British Government were undermining the basis for Anglo-Russian trade.” Tass also reported that for various reasons— perhaps because of direct interference on the part of the government—British firms had failed to fulfill their contracts with Russian industrial enterprises. At the same time British authorities discontinued the issuance of export licenses to the Soviet trading agency in London.
England was not yet fully aware of the turn which the war would take, and particularly of Russia’s role in it. The public still hoped that it would be possible to maintain and even expand Anglo-Russian trade relations. Thus when Ivan Maisky, Soviet Ambassador in London, suggested to the British Foreign Office a settlement of the trade difficulties which had arisen between the two countries, it was still possible on October 10, two weeks after the start of the negotiations, to reach an agreement for the exchange of Russian timber for British tin and rubber. This arrangement called forth a number of angry inquiries in the House of Commons, but the Foreign Secretary, Lord Halifax, and the Under Secretary, Mr. Butler, assured the House that Germany would not benefit by this barter, since Russia was herself in need of these materials. Moreover, stated Lord Halifax, the quantities involved did not exceed the normal volume of Soviet purchases before the war.
This arrangement, minor though it was, raised British hopes of the possibility of establishing normal trade relations with Russia. Even the responsible London Economist indicated with satisfaction that this might be the beginning of favorable trade relations between the two countries. However insurmountable difficulties, which led to many fruitless conversations, arose soon thereafter, when Maisky proposed to expand Russo-British trade negotiations. Although extremely pessimistic as to the final outcome, Lord Halifax nevertheless informed the Soviet Ambassador that he favored in principle the continuation of the negotiations. Maisky was given a list of materials which Britain was ready to supply to Russia. Moscow, in turn, was supposed to inform the British of the kind of goods she proposed to furnish England in exchange. For more than a month no reply was forthcoming. In the meantime the Finnish crisis was nearing the breaking point. Russo-British relations began to worsen rapidly, and on November 28, 1939—two days before the outbreak of Russo-Finnish hostilities—Halifax informed Maisky that if Russia should attack Finland Soviet-British trade negotiations would be broken off. Maisky replied in a similarly threatening tone. If Britain gave encouragement to Finland the Soviet Government would take the initiative in terminating the negotiations. Soon after, trade negotiations were broken off.
In the meantime Britain’s naval blockade of Germany was creating great hardships for the European neutrals. Germany eagerly publicized every protest by neutral states. Not until six weeks after the blockade was officially proclaimed, however, did the Soviet Government issue a sharply-worded note of protest, which was handed to the British Ambassador in Moscow on October 25.
In its note Moscow insisted that the list of articles and materials which Britain had declared contraband was not in accordance with the agreement of 1909; that “it will result in great losses to the neutral countries and will tend to destroy international trade.” The note protested particularly against the inclusion in the contraband list of “articles of primary necessity,” such as wheat, butter, meat, sugar, fuel, shoes, textiles, fodder, and clothing, “which will certainly tend to undermine the health of the civilian populations and to create untold hardships for the masses.” Russia was also displeased with the method of contraband control established by the British Government, which had designated a number of ports to which all neutral vessels were forced to go for inspection. One novel argument used by Moscow was the insistence that Soviet ships were not privately owned but belonged to the state and hence “could not be subjected to forceful measures.” In refusing to accept the British notes of November 6 and 11, the Soviet Government insisted upon its right to demand compensation from Britain for all losses incurred as a result of the blockade.
Moscow took some pains to emphasize that its note was “of first-rate importance” and Berlin readily concurred. But not London, which took a different view. The legal claims of the note, particularly its reference to the agreement of 1909, were no longer actual, since even in the war of 1914–18 the list of goods regarded as contraband embraced many more articles than had been stipulated in that agreement. Secondly, German submarines were already sinking ships loaded with wheat and fuel. Moreover, at the very moment when Potemkin, Assistant Commissar of Foreign Affairs, was handing this note to the British Ambassador in Moscow, Maisky was talking in London with Oliver Stanley, President of the British Board of Trade, about the goods Britain and Russia might exchange under a barter agreement.[33] This coincidence was no accident. It is reasonable to assume that while Russia was protesting vociferously against the blockade she was also eager to weaken the effect of this protest in London. Moscow was in effect saying to London: in spite of our threatening gestures we want to continue our negotiations; in general, we want to prevent our relations with England from deteriorating completely.
But the trade negotiations, which had been disrupted on the eve of the Soviet-Finnish War, were not renewed until that war was over. On March 18, after Russia had concluded peace with Finland and the threat of a conflict between the Soviet Union and the Allies had been removed, the British Foreign Office proposed through Maisky to renew trade negotiations.[34] This offer was more a “feeler” than a serious attempt to reëstablish normal commercial relations. During the six months of war London had reached the conclusion that Russia was an economic partner of Germany and that to supply her with goods was tantamount to helping Germany. The difficulties in reaching a trade agreement finally proved to be insurmountable.
On March 27 Maisky informed the Foreign Office that Moscow was ready to renew trade negotiations, provided that the British Government would first release the two Soviet steamers, Selenga and Mayakovsky, which were detained in a British port. It took three weeks for Downing Street to reply. On April 19 Lord Halifax asked what guarantee the Soviet Government would be ready to give that the goods on these steamers would not be transferred to Germany.[35] Maisky replied on April 27 that, regardless of the war, Russia was maintaining normal trade relations with belligerents as well as with neutrals and that she would also fulfill her contractual obligations to Germany. He refused to discuss with England Russia’s commercial relations with Germany. At the same time he pointed out that the release of the two steamers by Britain “would be a prerequisite for concluding a trade agreement.”
On May 8 Lord Halifax handed Maisky a memorandum mainly devoted to questions concerning Russo-German trade. It informed Moscow that the two Soviet steamers, had already been turned over to French authorities and were now under the jurisdiction of the French Government. However, Britain proposed to Russia to come to an understanding regarding a system of contraband control and inspection of Soviet vessels. In his reply of May 20 Molotov stated that Russia could not possibly subordinate her trade activities to the military requirements of other states and therefore declined to discuss Russo-German trade relations with Great Britain. Russia, he said, intended to import British goods for her own consumption and not for Germany. He also rejected as “unconvincing” Halifax’s explanation regarding the two Soviet steamers.
The negotiations were a complete failure. Normal trade relations between Russia and Germany’s enemies were out of the question at that period. The truth was, of course, that the British did not expect a great deal to come out of the talks; what they hoped to find out was how far Russia was aiding Germany.
7. Turkey
September 17, 1939, was a turning point in the foreign policy of Soviet Russia. On that day Soviet troops crossed the Polish border and the Red Army was ordered to approach the frontiers of Latvia and Estonia. On the 17th the Soviet Government made public a number of declarations and diplomatic notes regarding its foreign policy. On that day the Kremlin also requested the government of Turkey to send its Minister for Foreign Affairs to Moscow to open conversations.
For almost two decades Turkey had been the most consistent ally of the Soviets. In turn, Moscow had on more than one occasion, come to the aid of the Ankara government in matters of vital importance in the conduct of its foreign affairs.
Turkey had lost the war of 1914–18; this made it, in the eyes of Moscow, a “victim of the imperialist powers.” From a Communist point of view, the Turkish Republic could not be regarded as a purely “capitalist state” and this ideological consideration made it easier for Moscow to seek a rapprochement with Ankara.
In the middle of the 1930’s Italy embarked upon campaigns of aggression in Ethiopia and in Spain, and with each successive Italian victory the threat of Mussolini’s fleet to Turkey loomed larger. Until 1940 Italy rather than Germany presented the greater danger to Turkey. On April 1, 1939, Italian forces invaded Albania. When it became clear that this marked merely the beginning of Italy’s advance into the Balkans, Turkey was forced to look for new allies. Her natural supporters could be only England and France, since the whole problem was one of relative naval strength in the Mediterranean. Under the circumstances, Russian aid, even if Moscow had consented to extend military assistance to Turkey, was not within the realm of possibility. Turkey’s approach to England and France fell in nicely with the policies of the latter, which were at that very moment seeking for agreements with Poland, Rumania, and other small states against Axis aggression. A preliminary agreement between Turkey and England was announced on May 12; on June 24 a similar agreement was concluded between Turkey and France. In as much as Russia was conducting negotiations with England and France for the conclusion of an anti-German bloc, Turkey also informed Moscow of her negotiations, and the Kremlin gave its blessing to Turkey’s agreement with the Western Powers.[36]
The pacts that were being negotiated between Turkey, England, and France were rather complicated, since they had to provide for all kinds of eventualities and combinations in the Mediterranean. It took a long time to work out their details, but on the outbreak of the war between Germany and the Allies they were ready to be signed. At the last moment, however, following the Kremlin’s invitation to send the Turkish Foreign Minister to Moscow, the act of signature had to be postponed, since Turkey was also anxious to reach an understanding with Russia. The Kremlin, of course, had been informed in advance that the proposed pacts were to contain a clause stipulating that under no circumstances was Turkey to go to war with Russia.
The Russo-German Pact, signed on the eve of the outbreak of European hostilities, complicated Turkey’s position enormously. Until August 23 Turkey could be simultaneously pro-Ally and pro-Soviet. After the signing of the Russo-German Pact, however, the political situation was radically changed. With Moscow now directing its policy against the “warmongers,” Great Britain and France, Turkey could no longer remain both pro-Soviet and pro-Ally. Nor could she choose sides without grave risks. When Russia requested Ankara to send its Foreign Minister to Moscow, some hope was revived that Turkey might become a diplomatic bridge between Russia and the Western Powers. No government was better qualified for this office than Turkey.
In the meantime, Russia’s foreign policy was being determined by the new international situation created by the Russo-German Pact. Moscow hoped within the immediate future to settle her difference with Rumania over Bessarabia. Rumania had a formal guarantee of her borders from England and France; a diplomatic conflict between Soviet Russia and Rumania, which could easily have turned into a military clash, might have meant, in the tense situation that existed in Europe in 1939, war between Moscow and the Western Allies. England and France were obligated to extend unlimited military aid to Rumania, particularly with their fleets, provided that these could pass the Dardanelles into the Black Sea.
Under the circumstances, everything depended upon Turkey. According to the Montreux Convention of 1936, which regulated the international status of the Dardanelles—particularly, according to article 19 of this Convention, which, incidentally, had been included on the insistence of Soviet Russia—Turkey was obligated to permit the passage through the Dardanelles of the fleets of those powers which were to assist Rumania against aggression. Now it was only natural that Russia should regard with disfavor the possible appearance of an Allied fleet in the Black Sea. The Kremlin began to press Turkey to close the Dardanelles to ships that did not belong to Black Sea Powers. This was contrary to the Montreux Convention and a hard nut for Turkey to crack when she was about to conclude agreements with England and France.
In addition to this very important question, which the Soviet Government wished to discuss with the Turkish Foreign Minister, Moscow was also contemplating the signing of a mutual assistance agreement between the two countries. This was to be followed by closer collaboration —to be achieved with the aid of Turkey—with the other Balkan countries, thus forming a “bloc of neutral Balkan States.” Russia’s purpose in promoting such a bloc was to alienate the Balkan States from their Anglo-French allies, a course particularly advocated by Germany, whose aim was to weaken Anglo-French influence in Southeastern Europe. This was the form in which the parallelism of Russo-German policy was expressed in the Balkans—the parallelism incidentally did not last very long.
When Shukru Saracoglu, Turkish Minister for Foreign Affairs, arrived in Moscow on September 26 he was at once received by Molotov. During their very first conference, without any preliminaries, the Soviet Foreign Commissar presented the main Soviet proposals. These were the closing of the Dardanelles to foreign warships and the conclusion of a Russo-Turkish mutual assistance pact. Saracoglu at once informed Molotov that the first part of the Soviet proposals was unacceptable to Turkey. Here the conversations ended. The following day Von Ribbentrop arrived in the Soviet capital, and the attention of the Kremlin was entirely engrossed with the German negotiations. On September 29 the Turkish Embassy in Moscow held a grand reception attended by Molotov, Voroshilov, Mikoyan, and other Soviet dignitaries. Both Molotov and Saracoglu made friendly speeches. Nevertheless, the Russo-Turkish negotiations were considered officially as interrupted and the Turkish delegation was preparing to leave Moscow on October 1.[37]
However, Moscow was anxious to avoid a break with Ankara. (The entire Rumanian problem was still in a hypothetical stage, and the question of Bessarabia had not yet been broached concretely.) Molotov proposed that the Turkish delegation postpone its departure and renew negotiations. On October 2 a four-hour conference took place between Stalin, Molotov, and the Turkish Foreign Minister, and Saracoglu informed his Cabinet of the nature of the new Soviet proposals. The Turkish Government, however, refused to make a single move in this matter without first consulting London and Paris. As a result, Saracoglu spent ten days in Moscow in complete diplomatic inactivity. He passed his time visiting museums and theaters, and studying the Soviet capital.
The German press expressed complete satisfaction with this state of affairs. The fact that Saracoglu remained in Moscow and that the Turkish-Soviet negotiations still continued was interpreted by Germany as favorable to her side. On October 5 the Völkischer Beobachter wrote triumphantly: “It is possible that Russia will obligate Turkey to maintain absolute neutrality and to close the Dardanelles. Thus, a great neutral bloc would be formed extending from Russia to Italy through the entire Balkans, which would nullify the plans for the encirclement of Germany.”
Berlin had expected that, having signed the agreement with Russia, Saracoglu would, on his way back, meet with the Rumanian Foreign Minister, Gafencu, and the Bulgarian Minister, Kiosseivanov, for the purpose of further cementing the proposed “Neutral Bloc.” Things, however, turned out differently. On October 13, upon receiving new instructions from Ankara, Saracoglu again met with Stalin and Molotov. He gave a negative reply to the Soviet proposals. The Turkish Government, in agreement with London and Paris, was ready to sign a mutual assistance pact with Russia; as an added concession, it was willing to revise the text of the agreement already completed with England and France so that a military conflict between Russia and Turkey would be, under all circumstances, ruled out. Ankara and the Allies looked with favor on the creation of a Balkan bloc, with the proviso that Turkey first sign the agreement with England and France and thus bring the “Neutral Bloc” to the side of the Allies. But the closing of the Dardanelles was definitely rejected.
Stalin, it seems, was willing for the time being, at least, to accept an agreement such as that outlined by Ankara. Diplomatic circles both in Moscow and in Ankara expected the signing momentarily. Their expectations were premature. According to some sources the German Government, with which Molotov was in constant consultation, objected to such an arrangement, seeing in it, correctly enough, a defeat of German diplomacy.[38] On October 16 Molotov received Saracoglu for the last time. Much to the surprise of the Turkish Minister, he raised once more the question of the Dardanelles and also of Turkey’s relation to Germany. He suggested that “Turkey should promise not to make war on Germany on behalf of the Western Powers.” [39] The conversations were fruitless. However, the Kremlin was extremely anxious to avoid creating the impression of a break. Threatening gestures were out of the question. On the contrary, the farewell to Saracoglu, despite the failure of the negotiations, was very friendly. Important members of the Soviet Government saw him off at the station, a guard of honor was provided. The official communiqué issued by Moscow on the result of the negotiations was courteous and friendly in tone: “The exchange of opinions, carried on in a cordial atmosphere, indicates once again the friendly relations which exist between the U.S.S.R. and Turkey, and testifies that the aim of both governments is to work for the maintenance of peace.” The communiqué also mentioned “future contacts between the two governments for the purpose of mutual discussion of problems that interest the Soviet Union and the Turkish Republic.”
Immediately afterward, on October 19, Turkey signed the agreements with England and France. To those already completed was added “Protocol Number 2,” according to which Turkey was under no circumstances obligated to go to war with Russia: “The obligations undertaken by Turkey in virtue of the above-mentioned Treaty cannot compel the country to take action having, as its consequence, entry into armed conflict with the U.S.S.R.”
In the text of the agreement, however, specific mention was made of aid to Rumania in case of aggression: “So long as the guarantees given by France and the United Kingdom to Greece and Rumania remain in force, Turkey will lend them all aid and assistance in its power in the event France and the United Kingdom are engaged in hostilities by virtue of either of the said agreements.”
On this point the policies of Turkey and Russia were at odds. Turkey had entered firmly into the orbit of the Western Powers, while Russia sought to maintain a neutrality which was at that time to the advantage of Germany. The Soviet press regarded Turkey’s choice as fatal since it led her straight into the war camp of the belligerents. According to the Soviet newspapers, Turkey had become the victim of those imperialist powers who sought to spread the war. This, too, was the opinion Molotov expressed in his speech of October 31, immediately after the breakdown in the Russo-Turkish negotiations.
The Government of Turkey has decided to link its fate to a definite group of European powers involved in the war … Thus Turkey has definitely rejected the cautious policy of neutrality and has decided to enter the orbit of the spreading European war. England and France are quite satisfied with this, since they seek to drag into the war as many neutral countries as they can. It is not, however, for us to guess whether Turkey will not regret her action.
Russo-Turkish relations continued on a cooler footing.
Molotov’s prediction that Turkey would be involved in the war as a result of its agreement with England and France turned out to be a mistake: even when Russia was forced into the war in 1941, Turkey still remained neutral.
footnotes
[1] Posledniya Novosti, Paris, September 22, 1939.
[2] Polish White Book, Documents Nos. 171 and 172.
[3] In his speech of September 17, 1939, Molotov declared: “Because the government has called in our army reserves some people have decided that the time has come to hoard foodstuffs and other commodities. I am afraid that this hoarding of food and other commodities will harm only those who indulge in it …”
[4] Molotov’s speech of October 31, 1939.
[5] Louis Fischer, The Nation, January 6, 1940.
[6] Temps, Paris, October 3, 1939, and other newspapers.
[7] “Sphere of interests” is a special term which Hitler employed extensively in the Russo-German relations. It had a broader implication than the term “State”; the Baltic States, for instance, retained their sovereignty while falling within the Soviet sphere of interests. At this stage there was still some talk of leaving Poland as an independent state within the German sphere of interests.
[8] Judging by the Germanisms in the officially published Russian text the documents were prepared by the Germans and proposed to Molotov for signature.
[9] Molotov’s speech before the Supreme Soviet of October 31, 1939.
[10] The Estonian authorities denied this allegation.
[11] Bolshevik, Moscow, 1939, No. 18, p. 7.
[12] Pravda, Moscow, October 20, 1939.
[13] Posledniya Novosti, Paris, October 10, 1939.
[14] Bolshevik, Moscow, 1939, No. 19, p. 5.
[15] Bolshevik, Moscow, 1939, No. 18, p. 7.
[16] Pravda, Moscow, October 19, 1939.
[17] Pravda, Moscow, October 19, 1939.
[18] Pravda, Moscow, October 6, 1939.
[19] New York Times, September 15, 1939.
[20] In their attempt to protect Lithuania’s interests, the Lithuanian delegates in Moscow sought to play off the Georgian, Stalin, against the Great Russian, Molotov. Stalin, however, protested: “What sort of a Georgian am I,” he replied, “when I have spoken Russian for forty years?” (From an unpublished manuscript entitled “German-Soviet Relations as Seen from the Baltic.” The author, now in the United States, was well placed to have an intimate knowledge of events in Lithuania in 1939–40. He was kind enough to give me the opportunity to make use of his yet unpublished work.)
[21] Novyi Mir, Paris, 1940, No. 2, p. 28.
[22] Further support for this theory is the fact that Soviet Russia returned to Lithuania only a part of the Vilno district. The Svienciany section remained in Russian hands.
[23] Bolshevik, Moscow, No. 19, 1939, p. 3.
[24] Novyi Mir, 1940, p. 28.
[25] New York Times, July 14, 1939.
[26] H. B. Elliston, Finland Fights, Little, Brown, 1940, p. 178.
[27] Pravda, Moscow, October 15, 1939.
[28] The value of Hitler’s loot can perhaps be estimated by the fact that in Riga alone 1,800 homes of Germans were placed on sale. (New York Times, February 14, 1940.)
[29] New York Times, September 9, 1940; Frankfurter Zeitung, December 1, 1940, and January 12, 1941; Neue Zürcher Zeitung (Zürich), November 22, 1940, and January 15, 1941; Pravda, Moscow, March 26, 1941.
[30] Mrs. Hedwig Wachenheim gives the following data: Estonia, 12,868; Latvia, 48,641; Volhynia, 64,554; Galicia, 55,440; Bialystok, 8,053; Northern Bukovina, 42,441; Bessarabia, 93,548; Lithuania, 50,000; latecomers from Latvia-Estonia, 10,000. Total, 385,545. (Foreign Affairs, July, 1942.)
[31] This figure is wrong. Altogether 437,000 Germans were repatriated. Hitler apparently had in mind the 70,000 Germans who were transferred from Dobrudja, Southern Bukovina, etc.
[32] Hitler’s speech of June 22, 1941.
[33] New York Times, October 27, 1939.
[34] Tass dispatch of May 22, 1940.
[35] Ronald Cross, Minister of Economic Warfare, told the House of Commons on February 25 that the Soviet import of tin and rubber by way of the Pacific had increased “efforts to ship contraband via Vladivostok.”
[36] “Soviet public opinion regards the mutual assistance agreement concluded between Turkey and England as a valuable investment in the cause of world peace.” (Izvestiya, May 15, 1939.)
[37] In many quarters there were persistent rumors that Molotov had demanded of Turkey military bases in the Dardanelles. Although emanating from diplomatic sources they were never confirmed by any existing documents. Joseph E. Davies mentions them in his Mission to Moscow (p. 468).
[38] Times, London, October 16, 1939.
[39] Times, London, October 19, 1939.