^Ll
53
125 843
. G . K R fVW
IN STALIN'S
SECRET
SERVICE
AN EXPOSE OF RUSSIA'S
SECRET POLICIES BY THE
FORMER CHIEF OF THE
SOVIET INTELLIGENCE
IN WESTERN EUROPE
NEW YORK AND LONDON
HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS 1939
_._ _,_.,,_. BROTHERS. PRINTED IN THE UNITED
STATES *OF AWERICfArXli'RIGHVs IN THIS BOOK ARE RESERVED. NO
PART OF TH6'6<&$< MAY BE REPRODUCED IN ANY MANNER WHAT-
SOEVER WITrtOUT WRITTEN PERMISSION. FOR INFORMATION ADDRESS
HARPER & BROTHERS
11-9
FIRST EDITION
K-O
CONTENTS
Introduction vii
I. Stalin Appeases Hitler 1
II. The End of the Communist International 26
III. Stalin's Hand in Spain 75
IV. When Stalin Counterfeited Dollars 116
V. TheOgpu 139
VI. Why Did They Confess? 1 81
VII. Why Stalin Shot His Generals 21 1
VIII. My Break with Stalin 244
Introduction
I HE evening of May 22, 1937, 1 boarded a train in Moscow
to return to my post in The Hague as Chief of the Soviet
Military Intelligence in Western Europe, I little realized
then that I was seeing my last of Russia so long as Stalin
is her master. For nearly twenty years I had served tie
Soviet government. For nearly twenty years I had been a
Bolshevik. As the train sped toward the Finnish border I
sat alone in my compartment, thinking of the fate of my
colleagues, my comrades, my friends arrested, shot or in
concentration camps, almost all of them. They had given
their entire lives to build a better world, and had died at
their posts, not under the bullets of an enemy but because
Stalin willed it.
Who is there left to respect or admire? What hero or
heroine of our revolution has not been broken and destroyed?
I could think of but few. All those whose personal integrity
was absolutely above question had gone down as "traitors,"
"spies," or common criminals. Pictures flashed through my
mind pictures of the Civil War when these same "traitors"
and "spies'* faced death a thousand times without flinching;
of the arduous days that followed, of industrialization and
the superhuman demands it made upon all of us, of collec-
tivization and famine when we barely had the rations to
keep us alive. And then the great purge sweeping all before
it, destroying those who had kbored hardest to build a state
in which man should no longer exploit his fellow man,
vii
Through the long years of struggle we had learned to re-
peat to ourselves that a victory over injustices of the old
society can only be attained with moral as well as physical
sacrifice, that a new world can not come into being until the
last vestige of the habits of the old has been destroyed. But
could it be necessary for a Bolshevik Revolution to destroy
all Bolsheviks? Was it the Bolshevik Revolution that was
destroying them, or had that revolution itself long since
perished? I did not answer these questions then, but I
asked them . . .
At the age of thirteen I had entered the working-class
movement. It was a half-mature, half -childish act. I heard
the plaintive melodies of my suffering race mingled with new
songs of freedom. But in 1917 1 was a youngster of eighteen,
and the Bolshevik Revolution came to me as an absolute solu-
tion of all problems of poverty, inequality and injustice. I
joined the Bolshevik Party with my whole soul. I seized the
Marxist and Leninist faith as a weapon with which to as-
sault the wrongs against which I had instinctively rebelled.
During all the years that I served the Soviet government
I never expected anything more than the right to continue
my work. I never received anything more. Long after the
Soviet power had been stabilized, I was sent abroad on
assignments that exposed me to the danger of death, and
that twice landed me in prison. I worked from sixteen to
eighteen, hours a day, and never earned enough to cover
the most ordinary living expenses. I myself, when traveling
abroad, would live in moderate comfort, but I did not earn
enough, even as late as 1935, to keep my apartment in Mos-
cow heated properly or pay the price of milk for my two-
year-old son. I was not in a strategic position, and I had no
desire-I was too much absorbed in my work to become
one of the new privileged bureaucrats with a material stake
viii
in defending the Soviet order. I defended it because I be-
lieved it was leading the way to a new and better society.
The very fact that my work was concerned with the de-
fense of the country against foreign enemies prevented me
from thinking much of what was happening within its
borders and especially in the small inner world of power
politics. As an Intelligence officer I saw the external enemies
of the Soviet Union much more closely than its internal
conspirators. I knew of separatist and Fascist plots that
were being hatched on foreign soil, but I was out of contact
with the intrigues inside the Kremlin. I saw Stalin rise to
undivided power while Lenin's closer comrades perished at
the hands of the state they had created. But like many others,
I reassured myself with the thought that whatever might
be the mistakes of the leadership, the Soviet Union was still
sound and was the hope of mankind.
There were occasions when even this faith was badly
shaken, occasions when, if I could have seen any hope else-
where, I might have chosen a new course. But always events
in some other part of the world would conspire to keep me
in the service of Stalin. In 1933, when the Russian people
were dying by the millions of starvation, and I knew that
Stalin's ruthless policies had caused it, and that Stalin was
deliberately withholding the state's help, I saw Hitler take
power in Germany and there destroy everything that meant
life for the human spirit. Stalin was an enemy of Hitler and
I remained in the service of Stalin.
In February, 1934, a similar dilemma confronted me and
I made the same choice. I was then taking my ammal month's
rest at the Marino Sanatorium in the province of Kursk,
Central Russia. Marino was once the palace of Prince Burya-
tin, the conqueror of the Caucasus. The palace w^s in the
resplendent style of Versailles, surrounded by beautiful
ix
English parks and artificial lakes. The sanatorium had an
excellent staff of physicians, athletic instructors, nurses and
servants. Within walking distance of its enclosed grounds
was the state farm where peasants labored to provide its
guests with food. A sentry at the gate kept the peasants from
trespassing on the enclosure.
One morning soon after my arrival I walked with a com-
panion to the village where these peasants lived. The spec-
tacle I beheld was appalling. Half -naked little brats ran out
of dilapidated huts to beg us for a piece of bread. In the
peasants' cooperative store was neither food nor fuel-
nothing to be had. Everywhere the most abject poverty dis-
mayed my eyes and depressed my spirits.
That evening seated in the brilliantly lighted dining hall
of Marino, everyone was chatting gaily after an excellent
supper. Outside, it was bitterly cold, but within, a roaring
fireplace gave us cosy warmth. By some chance I turned
suddenly and looked toward the window, I saw the feverish
eyes of hungry peasant children the bezprizorniitheir little
faces glued like pictures to the cold panes. Soon others fol-
lowed my glance, and gave orders to a servant that the in-
truders be driven off. Almost every night a few of these
children would succeed in eluding the sentry and sneak
up to the palace in search of something to eat. I sometimes
slipped out of the dining hall with bread for them, but I did
this secretly because the practice was frowned upon among
us. Soviet pfficials have developed a stereotyped defense
against hujnan suffering:
"We are on the hard road to socialism. Many must fall by
the way?ide. We must be well fed and must recuperate from
our labors, enjoying, for a few weeks each year, comforts still
denied to others, because we are the builders of a Joyous Life
in the future. We *re the builders of socialism. We must keep
in shape to continue on the hard road. Any unfortunates who
cross our path will be taken care of in due time. In the mean-
while, out of our way! Don't pester us with your suffering! If
we stop to drop you a crumb, the goal itself may never be
reached/*
So it runs. And it is obvious that people protecting their
peace of mind in that way are not going to be too squeamish
about the turns in the road, or inquire too critically whether
it is really leading to the Joyous Life or not.
It was an icy morning when I reached Kursk on my way
home from Marino. I entered the railway station to await
the arrival of the Moscow express. After eating a hearty
breakfast in the lunchroom, I still had time to spare, and
I wandered into the third-class waiting room. I shall never
be able to obliterate from my mind what I saw. The waiting
room was jammed full of men, women and children, peas-
antsabout six hundred of them on their way like a herd
of cattle from one prison camp to another. The scene was
so frightful that for a fleeting instant I thought I saw bats
flying over these tortured beings. Many of them lay almost
naked in the cold room. Others were manifestly dying of
typhus fever. Hunger, pain, desolation, or just dumb half-
dead submissive suffering, were on every face. While I
stood there, hard-faced militiamen of the Ogpu undertook
to rouse and herd them out like a drove of catde, pushing
and kicking the stragglers and those almost too weak to
walk. One old man, I saw as I turned away, would never
rise from the floor. This was but one mournful detachment,
I knew, of the horde of millions of honest peasant families
whom Stalin, calling them "kulaks," a name which no longer
means much more than victim, had rooted up and trans-
ported and destroyed.
I also knew, however, that at that very momentit was
xi
February, 1934 Fascist field pieces in the streets of Vienna
were shelling the model workers' apartment houses which
the Socialists had built. Fascist machine guns were mowing
down the Austrian workers in their last desperate stand for
socialism. Everywhere Fascism was on the march. Every-
where the forces of reaction were gaining ground. The Soviet
Union still seemed the sole hope of mankind. I remained in
the service of the Soviet Union that is, of Stalin, its master.
Two years later came the Spanish tragedy, and I saw
Mussolini and Hitler pour their men and munitions to the
aid of Franco, while Premier Lon Blum of France, a
Socialist, was drawn in on the hypocritical game of "non-
intervention" which doomed the Spanish republic. I saw
Stalin belatedly to be sure, and timidly, and not enough-
come to the aid of the beleaguered republic. I still felt that,
as a choice between evils, I was fighting on the right side.
But then came the turning point. I watched Stalin, while
collecting hard cash for his belated help, drive a knife into
the back of the Loyalist government. I saw the purge as-
sume insane proportions in Moscow, sweeping away the
entire Bolshevik Party. I saw it transported to Spain. And
at the same time, from my vantage point in the Intelligence
Service, I saw Stalin extend the hand of secret friendship
to Hitler. I saw him, while thus paying court to the Nazi
leader, execute the great generals of the Red Army, Tuk-
hachevsky, and the other chiefs with whom and under whom
I had worked for years in the defense of the Soviet Union and
of socialism*
And then Stalin made his final demand upon me the de-
mand he made upon all responsible officials who wished to
escape the firing squads of the Ogpu. I must prove my
loyalty by delivering a close comrade into its clutches. I
declined the offer. I broke with Stalin, I forced my eyes
xii
to remain open to what I had seen. I forced my mind to
know that, whether there was any other hope in the world
or not, I was serving a totalitarian despot who differed from
Hitler only in the Socialist phrases, the relic of his Marxist
training Socialist phrases to which he hypocritically clung.
I broke with Stalin, and began to tell the truth about
him, in the fall of 1937, when he was successfully deceiving
public opinion and the statesmen of both Europe and
America with his insincere denunciations of Hitler. Although
advised by many well-meaning people to remain silent, I
spoke out. I spoke for the millions who had perished in
Stalin's compulsory collectivization and compulsory famine;
the millions still living at forced labor and in concentration
camps; the hundreds of thousands of my former Bolshevik
comrades in prison, the thousands and thousands who had
been shot, It took the final overt act of Stalin's treachery,
his pact with Hitler, to convince a large public of the mad-
ness of humoring him, of closing eyes to his monstrous
crimes in the hope that he might cany a gun in the armies
of democracy.
Now that Stalin has shown his hand, it is time for others
who remained silent for shortsighted or strategic reasons,
to speak out. A few have already done so. Luis De Araquis-
tain, former ambassador to France of the Loyalist govern-
ment, has helped to disabuse world opinion as to the
character of Stalin's "help" to the Spanish Republic. Largo
Caballero, the former Spanish Premier, has also spoken.
There are others upon whom rests an obligation to speak.
One of them is Romain Rolland. The help that this renowned
author gave to totalitarianism by covering the horrors of
Stalin's dictatorship with the mantle of his great prestige, is
incalculable. For many years Rolland conducted a corre-
spondence with Maxim Gorky, the noted Russian novelist.
xiii
Gorky, who was at one time comradely with Stalin, and even
exercised a restraining hand upon him, no doubt played a
part in bringing Holland into the camp of the fellow travel-
ers. During the last months of his life, however, Gorky was
a virtual prisoner. Stalin refused him permission to go abroad
for his health. His mail was censored, and by special order
the letters from Romain Holland were intercepted by Stet-
sky, then Stalin's head secretary, and filed in Stalin's cabinet.
Holland, disquieted at his friend's failure to answer his let-
ters, wrote to another friend, the assistant director of the
Moscow Art Theater, asking what was the matter. During
the last Moscow treason trial the world was told that Gorky,
supposedly still Stalin's friend, was poisoned by Yagoda.
At the time of this trial, in an interview with the eminent
writer Boris Souvarine published in La Fleche, I explained
to Romain Holland why his letters had not been delivered.
I asked him to make a statement on the fact that his letters
to Maxim Gorky were intercepted by Stalin. He remained
silent. Will he speak now that Stalin has openly joined hands
with Hitler?
Eduard BeneS, the former president of Czechoslovakia,
has also an account to settle. When Tukhachevsky and the
Red Army chiefs were executed in June, 1937, the shock to
Europe was so great, the disbelief in their guilt so stubborn,
that Stalin was forced to seek a channel to convince Western
democratic governments that the conqueror of Kolchak and
Denikine was a Nazi spy. At Stalin's direction the Ogpu, in
collaboration with the Intelligence Service of the Red Army,
prepared a dossier of the alleged evidence against the Red
generals for transmission to the Czech government Eduard
BeneS was then so certain that Stalin would fight for Czecho-
slovakia that he apparently took this evidence at its face
value.
aav
Let Bene now recall and re-examine, in the light of
present events, the character of the evidence prepared by the
experts of the Ogpu and decide whether he is free to re-
main silent.
Now that it has become painfully clear that the worst way
of fighting Hitler is to mitigate the crimes of Stalin, all those
who were maneuvered into that folly ought to speak. If these
last tragic years have taught us anything, it is that the
march of totalitarian barbarism cannot be halted by strategic
retreats to positions of half-truth and falsehood. While no
one can dictate the method by which civilized Europe will
restore to man his dignity and worth, I think that all those
not destined for the camp of Hitler and Stalin, will agree
that truth must be the first weapon, and murder must be
called by its real name.
New York, October, 1939 W, G. KRIVTTSKY
In Stalin's Secret Service
I. Stalin Appeases Hitler
DURING the night of June 30, 1934, when Hitter's first
blood purge broke out and while it was still going on, Stalin
called an extraordinary session of the Politbureau in the
Kremlin. Even before the news of the Hitler purge reached
the wide world, Stalin had decided upon his next move in
relation to the Nazi regime.
I was then at my post in the Intelligence Department of
the General Staff of the Red Army in Moscow. We knew that
a crisis was impending in Germany. All our confidential dis-
patches had prepared us for an outbreak. As soon as Hitler
launched his purge, we began to receive constant bulletins
from Germany.
That night I was working feverishly with a staff of assist-
ants, summarizing our information for War Commissar Voro-
shilov. Among the non-members summoned to that meeting
of the Politbureau were my chief, General Berzin; Maxim
Litvinovi Commissar for Foreign Affairs; Karl Radek, then
director of the information bureau of the Central Committee
of the Communist Party; and A. C. Artusov, chief of the
Foreign Division of the Ogpu.
The emergency meeting of the Politbureau had been called
to consider the probable consequences of the Hitler purge,
and its effects upon Soviet foreign policy. Confidential in-
formation in our possession showed that two extreme wings
of Hitler's opponents were involved. There was the group
1
led by Captain Roehm, consisting of Nazi radicals dissatisfied
with Hitler's moderate policies. They were dreaming of a
"second revolution." The other group was composed of offi-
cers of the German army, under the leadership of Generals
Schleicher and Bredow. This circle had looked forward to a
restoration of the monarchy. It joined hands with the Roehm
wing for the purpose of unseating Hitler, each side hoping
to emerge triumphant in the end. Our special bulletins from
Germany brought the news, however, that the garrisons in
the metropolitan centers remained loyal to Hitler and that the
main body of army officers was true to the government.
In Western Europe and America, Hitler's purge was widely
interpreted as a weakening of the Nazi power. In Soviet
circles, too, there were those who wished to believe it fore-
shadowed the collapse of Hitler's rule. Stalin had no such
illusions. He summed up the discussion at the Politbureau as
follows:
"The events in Germany do not at all indicate the collapse
of the Nazi regime. On the contrary, they are bound to lead
to the consolidation of that regime, and to the strengthening
of Hitler himself/'
General Berzin came back from the Kremlin session with
this dictum of Stalin.
In my anxiety to learn the decision of the Politbureau I
had stayed up all night awaiting Berzin's return, We had a
strict rule that no one, not even the Commissar of War him-
self, could take confidential state papers home with him, and
I knew that Berzin would have to come back to the depart-
ment.
The course of Soviet policy toward Nazi Germany fol-
lowed from Stalin's dictum. The Politbureau decided at all
costs to induce Hitler to make a deal with tibe Soviet govern-
ment. Stalin had always believed in coining to terms early
2
with a strong enemy. The night of June thirtieth convinced
him of Hitler's strength. It was no new course for Stalin, how-
ever. It marked no revolutionary departure in his policy
toward Germany. He only decided to redouble his past
efforts to appease Hitler. His whole policy toward the Nazi
regime during the six years of its existence had lain in that
direction. He recognized in Hitler a real dictator.
The idea prevailing up to the recent Russian-German pact
that Hitler and Stalin were mortal enemies, was pure myth.
It was a distorted picture, created by clever camouflage and
the vapors of propaganda. The true picture of their relations
was that of a persistent suitor who would not be discouraged
by rebuffs. Stalin was the suitor. There was enmity on Hitler's
side. On Stalin's there was fear.
If one can speak of a pro-German in the Kremlin, Stalin
has been that figure all along. He favored cooperation with
Germany right after Lenin's death, and "he did not alter this
basic attitude when Hitler rose to power. On the contrary,
the triumph of the Nazis strengthened him in his quest for
closer bonds with Berlin. In this he was spurred on by the
Japanese menace in the Far East. He had a profound con-
tempt for the "weakling" democratic nations, and an equally
profound respect for the "mighty" totalitarian states. And he
was guided throughout by the rule that one must come to
terms with a superior power.
Stalin's whole international policy during the last six years
has been a series of maneuvers designed to place him in a
favorable position for a deal with Hitler. When he joined the
League of Nations, when he proposed the system of collec-
tive security, when he sought the hand of France, flirted
with Poland, courted Great Britain, intervened in Spain, he
was calculating every move with an eye upon Berlin. His
3
hope was to get into such a position that Hitler would find it
advantageous to meet his advances.
A high point in this Stalin policy was reached late in 1936
upon the conclusion of a secret German- Japanese agreement,
negotiated behind the smoke screen of the anti-Comintern
pact. The terms of that secret agreement, which came into
Stalin's possession in the main through my efforts and those
of my staff, incited him to a desperate attempt to drive a
bargain with Hitler. Early in 1937 such a deal was actually
pending between them. Nobody knows to what extent the
recent treaty of August, 1939, was anticipated at that time.
It was two years before Stalin began to disclose to the
world his friendly attitude toward Germany. On March 10,
1939, he made his first pronouncement following Hitler's
annexation of Austria and occupation of the Sudeten areas,
giving his answer to these world-shaking Nazi conquests.
The world was astounded by Stalin's friendly overtures to
Hitler. It was dumbfounded when, three days later, Hitler
marched into Czechoslovakia.
The record of Stalin's policy of appeasement toward
Hitler both the open and the secret record reveal that the
more aggressive Hitler's policies became, the more Stalin
pressed his courtship. And the more strenuously Stalin wooed
him, the bolder were Hitler's aggressions.
Long before the rise of Hitler, or even of Stalin, Soviet-
German cooperation had been dictated by the pressure of
events. A Moscow-Berlin tie had been formed more than
ten years before Hitler in the Rapallo pact of 1922. Both the
Soviet Union and the German republic were then being
treated as outcasts; both were in disfavor with the Allies;
both opposed the Versailles system. They had traditional
business bonds and mutual interests.
It is now common knowledge that during those ten years
4
there was a secret arrangement between the Reicliswehr
the German army and the Red Army. Soviet Russia per-
mitted the German republic to evade the Versailles prohibi-
tions against training artillery and tank officers, and develop-
ing aviation and chemical warfare. These things were done
on Soviet soil. The Red Army, on the other hand, got the
benefit of expert German military knowledge. The two armies
exchanged information. It is also common knowledge that
trade between Soviet Russia and Germany flourished during
that decade. The Germans invested capital and operated
concessions in the Soviet Union. The Soviet government im-
ported machinery and engineering personnel from Germany.
Such was the situation when Hitler's menacing figure
arose. Some seven or eight months before his ascent to
power, in the early summer of 1932, 1 met in Danzig one of
the high officers of the German general staff, a confirmed
monarchist who came from Berlin expressly to meet me. He
was an old-school military man and believed in the restora-
tion of the German Empire in cooperation with Russia*
I asked this officer for his opinion on Germany's policy in
the event Hitler became the head of the government. We
discussed Hitler's views as outlined in his book, M ein Kampf.
The German officer gave me his analysis of coming develop-
ments, and concluded: "Let Hitler corne and do his job.
And then we, the army, will make short work of Bim. w
I asked the officer if he would be good enough to submit
his views in writing for me to forward to Moscow, and he
agreed to do so. His report created a stir in l&emlin circles.
The prevailing view there was that military and economic
ties between Germany and Russia were so deep-rooted that
Hitler could not possibly disregard them. Moscow under-
stood Hitler's fuhninations against Bolshevism as a maneuver
on the road to power. They had their function. But they could
5
not change the basic interests of the two countries, which
were bound to make for cooperation.
Stalin himself derived much comfort from the report of
the German officer. Although fully alive to the Nazi doctrine
of "pressure toward the east/* he was habituated to the tradi-
tion of collaboration between the Red Army and the Reichs-
wehr, and had a wholesome respect for the German army
and its leadership under General Von Seckt The report of
the German staff officer dove-tailed with his own views.
Stalin looked upon the Nazi movement primarily as a
reaction to the Versailles peace. It seemed to him that all
Germany would do under Hitler was to throw off the shackles
of Versailles. The Soviet government had been the first to
hammer at them. Indeed, Moscow and Berlin had originally
been drawn together by their common opposition to the
rapacity of the allied victors.
For these reasons, Stalin made no effort after the rise of
Hitler to break the secret Berlin-Moscow tie. On the contrary
he tried his best to keep it in force. It was Hitler who, during
his first three years, gradually dissolved the intimate link
between the Red and the German armies. But this did not
deter Stalin. He only became more assiduous in the pursuit
of Hitler's friendship.
On December 28, 1933, eleven months after Hitler be-
came chancellor, Premier Molotov, speaking before the
Congress of Soviets, asserted Stalin's adherence to the
former German policy:
"Our relations with Germany have always occupied a dis-
tinct place in our international relations . . , The Soviet
Union has no cause on its part for any change of policy
toward Germany,"
The following day, before the same Congress, Foreign
Commissar Litvinov went even further than Molotov in
6
pleading for an understanding with Hitler. Litvinov de-
scribed the program outlined in Mein Kampf for the recon-
quest of all German territories. He spoke of the Nazi deter-
mination, "by fire and sword, to pave the way for expansion
in the east, without stopping at the borders of the Soviet
Union, and to enslave the peoples of this Union/' And he
went on to say:
"We have been connected with Germany by close eco-
nomic and political relations for ten years. We were the only
great country which would have nothing to do with the
Versailles Treaty and its consequences. We renounced the
rights and advantages which this treaty reserved for us.
Germany assumed first place in our foreign trade. Both
Germany and ourselves have derived extraordinary advan-
tages from the political and economic relation established
between us. (President Kalinin, of the Executive Committee :
"Especially Germany!' 7 ) On the basis of these relations,
Germany was able to speak more boldly and confidently to
her victors of yesterday."
This hint, emphasized by President Kalinin's exclamation,
was designed to remind Hitler of Soviet Russia's help in
enabling him to challenge the Versailles victors. Litvinov
then made the following formal declaration:
"With Germany, as with other states, we want to have the
best relations. The Soviet Union and Germany will gain
nothing but benefit from such relations. We, on our side,
have no desire for expansion, either in the west or the east
or in any other direction. We would like to hear Germany
say the same thing to us/'
Hitler did not say it. But that did not deter Stalin. It
encouraged him to a more strenuous courtship of the Nazi
regime.
On January 26, 1934, Stalin himself, addressing the Seven-
7
teenth Communist Party Congress continued the drive for
an appeasement of Hitler. Hitler had then been in power
exactly one year. He had rebuffed all o Moscow's political
advances, although he had entered into a trade deal on
favorable credit terms with Soviet Russia. Stalin interpreted
this as a sign of political good will. He referred to those Nazi
elements which favored a return to "the policy of the
ex-Kaiser of Germany, who at one time occupied the Ukraine,
undertook a march against Leningrad, and transformed the
Baltic countries into an encampment for his march/* There
had been a change, he said, in German policy, which he
attributed not to the theories of National Socialism, but to a
desire to avenge Versailles. He denied that Soviet Russia
had changed its policy toward Berlin because of "the estab-
lishment of a Fascist regime in Germany," and stretched out
his hand to Hitler with these words:
"Of course we are far from enthusiastic about the Fascist
regime in Germany. But Fascism is not the issue here, if
only for the reason that Fascism, in Italy for example, did
not prevent the Soviet Union from establishing good rela-
tions with that country/'
Stalin's outstretched hand was ignored in Berlin. Hitler
had other ideas on the subject. But Stalin would not be
discouraged. He only decided upon a change of method.
Viewing the Nazi agitation for an anti-Soviet bloc as a
maneuver on the part of Hitler, he resolved to respond to it
with a counter-maneuver. Henceforth, the Soviet government
would appear as an upholder of the Versailles system, would
join the League of Nations, would even associate with the
anti-German bloc. The threat involved in such a course,
Stalin thought, would bring Hitler to his senses.
Stalin picked a brilliant journalist to pave the way for this
somersault. It must be remembered that an entire Soviet
8
generation had been brought up in the belief that the Ver-
sailles Treaty was the most pernicious instrument ever drawn
up, and that its authors were a band of pirates. It was no
simple task to dress up the Soviet government in the costume
of a defender of Versailles. There was only one man in the
Soviet Union who could do this publicity stunt adequately
both for domestic and foreign consumption. That was Karl
Radek, the man who subsequently played such a tragic role
in the great trial of January, 1937. Stalin picked Radek to
prepare Russian and world opinion for his change of tactics.
I saw a great deal of Radek in those days the early spring
of 1934 at the headquarters of the Central Committee of
the Communist Party. The Iimer Circle in Moscow was
then buzzing with talk about Radek's assignment to prepare
a series of articles forming a build-up toward the coming
turnabout in Kremlin policy.
The articles were to appear in both Pravda and Izvestia,
the leading Communist and Soviet organs. They would be
reprinted throughout the world and carefully studied in all
European chancelleries. Radek's task was to whitewash the
Versailles peace, to herald a new era of friendship with Paris,
to persuade Soviet sympathizers abroad that such a stand
was harmonious with communism, and at the same time to
leave the door open for an agreement with Germany.
I knew, because of my frequent calls at Radek's office,
that he was in daily consultation with Stalin. Sometimes he
would dash over to Stalin's office several times a day. Every
phrase he wrote was subject to Stalin's personal supervision.
The articles were in every sense a joint labor of Radek and
Stalin.
While these articles were in preparation, Commissar Lit-
vinov was keeping on with efforts toward an agreement with
Hitler. In April, he proposed to Germany a joint undertaking
9
to preserve and guarantee the independence and inviolability
of the Baltic states. Berlin rejected the proposal.
The Radek article was hailed widely as foreshadowing a
Soviet turn toward France and the Little Entente, and away
from Germany. "German Fascism and Japanese imperialism/'
wrote Radek, "are in a struggle for a redivision of the world
a struggle directed against the Soviet Union, against France,
Poland, Czechoslovakia, Rumania and the Baltic states;
against China and the United States of America. And British
imperialism would like to direct this struggle exclusively
against the Soviet Union."
At this time I had quite a conversation with Radek. He
knew that I was familiar with his assignment. I made some
remark about our "new policy" and spoke of the impression
it was creating in uninformed circles.
Radek let loose a flood of talk: "Only fools can imagine we
would ever break with Germany, What I am writing here is
one thing the realities are something else. No one can give
us what Germany has given us. For us to break with Ger-
many is simply impossible/'
Radek continued to discourse along lines only too familiar
to me. He spoke of our relations with the German army,
which was very much in the saddle even under Hitler, of
our relations with big business in Germany and was not
Hitler under the thumb of the industrialists? Surely Hitler
would not go against the general staff, which favored coopera-
tion with Russia, Surely Hitler would not cross swords with
German business circles, who were doing a large trade with
us. These two forces were the pillars of German-Soviet rela-
tions.
He denounced as idiots those who thought that Soviet
Russia should turn against Germany because of the Nazi
persecution of Communists and Socialists. True, the Com-
10
munist Party of Germany was smashed. Its leader, Thael-
mann, was in prison. Thousands of its members were in con-
centration camps. But that was one thing. It was something
else when one considered the vital interests of Soviet Russia,
Those interests demanded a continuation of the policy of col-
laboration with the German Reich.
As for the articles he was writing., what did they have to
do with the facts? It was all a matter of big politics. It was
a necessary maneuver. Stalin had no idea of breaking with
Germany. On the contrary, he was seeking to draw Berlin
closer to Moscow.
All of this was elementary to those of us who were on the
inside of the Kremlin policy. None of us dreamed, in the
spring of 1934, that a rupture with Germany was possible.
We all regarded the Radek articles as Stalinist strategy.
Litvinov went off on a tour of the European capitals,
ostensibly in the interests of the so-called Eastern Locarno
pact which was to insure, by mutual agreement of all the
governments concerned, the existing boundaries of the na-
tions in Eastern Europe. He visited Geneva. His visit filled
the world with rumors of a coming Franco-Russian rap-
prochement, crowning the work begun by Radek's articles.
At the same time, Stalin continued doggedly to assert at the
Politbureau: "And nevertheless, we must get together with
the Germans/*
On June 13, 1934, Litvinov stopped in Berlin to confer
with Baron Konstantin von Neurath, then Hitler's Foreign
Minister. Litvinov invited Germany to join in his proposed
Eastern European pact. Von Neurath firmly declined the in-
vitation, and bluntly pointed out that such an arrangement
would perpetuate the Versailles system. When Litvinov inti-
mated that Moscow might strengthen its treaties with other
11
nations by military alliances, Von Neurath replied that Ger-
many was willing to risk such an encirclement.
The following day, on June fourteenth, Hitler met Musso-
lini in Venice for luncheon.
Stalin was not discouraged by this latest rebuff from
Berlin. Through the Soviet trade envoys, he had all along
endeavored to persuade the leading German circles of his
sincerity in seeking an understanding with Hitler, allowing
them to intimate that Moscow would go a long way in making
concessions to Germany.
At the same time, Stalin tried to induce Poland to define
her policy to the disadvantage of Germany. Nobody knew
at that time which way Poland was going, and a special ses-
sion of the Politbureau was called to consider this problem.
Litvinov and Radek, as well as the representative of the Com-
missariat of War, took the view that Poland could be in-
fluenced to join hands with Soviet Russia, The only one who
disagreed with this view was Artusov, the chief of the Foreign
Division of the Ogpu. He considered the prospects of a
Polish-Soviet accord illusory. Artusov, a bit rash in thus
opposing the majority of the Politbureau, was cut short by
Stalin himself: "You are misinforming the Politbureau.*'
This remark of Stalin traveled fast in the inner circle. The
"dare devil" Artusov was regarded as already a finished man.
Subsequent events proved Artusov right. Poland joined the
German fold, and that may have saved Artusov for a while.
He was a Swiss who had taken up residence in Czarist
Russia as a French teacher. He had joined the revolutionary
movement before the World War and the Bolshevik Party
in 1917. Of small stature, gray-haired, wearing a goatee, a
lover of music, Artusov had married a Russian woman aad
raised a family in Moscow, In 1937 he was arrested and
executed in the great purge.
12
The fiasco with Poland increased Stalin's conviction of the
need of appeasing Hitler. He used every avenue to convey
to Berlin his readiness for an amicable arrangement. Hitler's
blood purge of June thirtieth immensely raised him' in
Stalin's estimation. Hitler had demonstrated for the first time
to the men in the Kremlin that he knew how to wield power,
that he was a dictator, not only in name but in deed. If Stalin
had doubts before as to Hitler's ability to rule with an iron
hand, to crush opposition, to assert his authority even over
potent political and military forces, those doubts were now
dispelled. From now on, Stalin recognized in Hitler a master,
a man able to back up his challenge to the world. This, more
than anything else, was responsible for Stalin's decision on
the night of June thirtieth to secure at whatever cost an
understanding with the Nazi regime.
Two weeks later, on July fifteenth, Radek, writing in the
official Soviet organ Izvestia, attempted to raise before Berlin
the bugaboo of Moscow's alignment with the Versailles
powers. He ended, however, with this contrary note:
"There is no reason why Fascist Germany and Soviet Russia
should not get on together, inasmuch as the Soviet Union
and Fascist Italy are good friends."
Hitler's warning, conveyed through Von Neurath, that
Germany was willing to risk encirclement was what sent
Stalin off on a move for counter-encirclement At this time,
the close relations between the Red Army and the German
army were still in existence. The trade relations between the
two countries were very much alive. Stalin therefore looked
upon Hitler's political course toward Moscow as a maneuver
For a favorable diplomatic position. Not to be outflanked,
he decided to respond to it by a wide maneuver of his own.
Litvinov was sent back to Geneva. There in kte Novem-
ber, 1934, he negotiated with Pierre Laval a preliminary
13
joint agreement envisaging a mutual-assistance pact between
France and Russia, purposively left open for other powers
to join. This protocol was signed in Geneva on December
fifth.
Four days later, Litvinov issued the following statement:
"The Soviet Union never ceases especially to desire the best
all-around relations with Germany. Such, I am confident, is
also the attitude of France towards Germany. The Eastern
European pact would make possible the creation and further
development of such relations between these three countries,
as well as between the other signatories to the pact/*
To this maneuver Hitler did at last respond. Large credits
were opened to the Soviet government, Stalin was tremen-
dously encouraged. The financial interests of Germany were,
in his judgment, forcing Hitler's hand.
In the spring of 1935, while Anthony Eden, Pierre Laval
and Eduard Benes were visiting Moscow, Stalin scored what
he considered his greatest triumph. The Reichbank granted
a long-term loan of 200,000,000 gold marks to the Soviet
government.
On the evening of August 2, 1935, 1 was with Artusov and
the other members of his staff at the Lubianka offices of the
Foreign Division of the Ogpu. It was on the eve of Levanev-
sky's take-off on his famous first flight across the North Pole
from Moscow to San Francisco. We were all waiting for a
car to take us to see Levanevsky and his two companions
start for America. While we were waiting and looking up
papers in the safes, the subject of our relations with the Nazi
regime came up. Artusov produced a highly confidential
report just received from one of our leading agents in Berlin.
It was prepared in answer to the question worrying Stalin:
What and how strong are the forces in Germany favoring
an accord with the Soviet Union?
14
After an exceptionally interesting review of the internal
economic and political conditions in Germany, of the ele-
ments of possible discontent, of Berlin's relations with France
and other powers, and of the dominant influences surround-
ing Hitler, our correspondent arrived at this conclusion:
"All of the Soviet attempts to appease and conciliate Hitler
are doomed. The main obstacle to an understanding with
Moscow is Hitler himself /'
The report made a profound impression upon all of us. Its
logic and facts seemed unanswerable. We wondered how the
"big boss" took it. Artusov remarked that Stalin's optimism
concerning Germany remained unshaken.
"Do you know what the boss said at the last meeting of
the Politbureau?" Artusov observed with a wave of the hand.
And he quoted Stalin:
<e Well, now, how can Hitler make war on us when he has
granted us such loans? It's impossible. The business circles
in Germany are too powerful, and they are in the saddle."
In September, 1935, 1 left for Western Europe to take up
my new post as Chief of the Military Intelligence there.
Within a month I flew back to Moscow* My hurried return
trip was caused by an extraordinary development.
I discovered, in taking over our Intelligence network, that
one of our agents in Germany had come upon the trail of
secret negotiations between the Japanese military attach^
in Berlin, Lieutenant General Hiroshi Oshima, and Baron
Joachim von Ribbentrop, then Hitler's unofficial minister for
special foreign relations.
I decided that these negotiations were a matter of such
paramount concern to the Soviet government that they re-
quired exceptional attention on my part. To watch their
progress would be no routine affair. I needed for the task
the boldest and best men at our disposal. For this purpose I
15
returned to Moscow to consult headquarters, I came back to
Holland armed with all the necessary authority and means to
pursue to the bitter end the quest for information on the
Oshima-Ribbentrop conversations.
These conversations were carried on outside ordinary dip-
lomatic channels. The Japanese ambassador in Berlin and
the German Foreign Office were not involved. Von Ribben-
trop, Hitler's envoy extraordinary, was handling the matter
privately with the Japanese general. By the end of 1935, the
information in my possession showed beyond a shadow of
doubt that the negotiations were progressing toward a defi-
nite objective. We knew, of course, that that objective was to
checkmate the Soviet Union.
We also knew that the Japanese army had for years been
anxious to secure the plans and models of Germany's special
anti-aircraft guns. The Tokyo militarists had shown them-
selves willing to go to any lengths to obtain from Berlin all
the latest technical patents in weapons of warfare. This was
the starting point for the German-Japanese negotiations.
Stalin kept in close touch with developments. Apparently
Moscow decided to try to spike the negotiations by publicity.
Early in January, 1936, reports began to appear in the
Western European press that some kind of secret agreement
had been concluded between Germany and Japan. On
January tenth, Soviet Premier Molotov referred publicly to
these reports. Two days later, Berlin and Tokyo denied that
there was any substance in the rumors.
The only effect of the publicity was to increase the secrecy
of the negotiations and to force the German and Japanese
governments to devise some mask for their real treaty.
Throughout 1936, all the world capitals were astir with
public and private reports of the German-Japanese deal.
Diplomatic circles everywhere buzzed with exciting specula-
16
tion. Moscow pressed hard for documentary proof of the
agreement. My men in Germany were risking their lives, in
the face of almost insuperable difficulties. They knew that
no expense was too high, no hazard too great.
It was known to us that the Nazi secret service was inter-
cepting, and had in its possession, copies of the coded mes-
sages exchanged during the negotiations between General
Oshima and Tokyo. Late in July, 1936, 1 received word that
the complete file of this confidential correspondence had at
last been secured in photostatic form by our men in Berlin.
The channel thus opened would provide us with all future
messages from Oshima to his government and back.
The strain of the following days, when I knew that this
priceless material was in our hands, but had to await its safe
arrival from Germany > was nearly unbearable. No chances
could be taken and I had to wait patiently.
On August eighth, word came through that the carrier of
the correspondence had crossed the German 'frontier and
was due in Amsterdam. I was in Rotterdam when the mes-
sage arrived. I got into my automobile, accompanied by an
aide, and made a dash for Amsterdam. On the way we met
our agent, who was speeding to deliver the material to me.
We stopped on the highway.
"Here it is. We've got it," he said, and handed me some
rolls of film the form in which we usually put all our mail.
I went straight to Haarlem, where we had a secret photo-
graphic developing room. The Oshima correspondence was
in code, but we had in our possession the Japanese code book.
I also had, awaiting us in Haarlem, a first-class Japanese-
language expert, whom we had scoured Moscow to find. I
could not keep Moscow waiting for the arrival of the docu-
ments by courier, and I could not send coded messages from
17
Holland. I had one of our men get ready to fly to Paris at a
moment's notice, to send off a long message to Moscow.
I saw, as it was being decoded, that I had before me the
entire sheaf of Oshima's correspondence with Tokyo, report-
ing step by step all his negotiations with Von Ribbentrop,
and also the suggestions conveyed to him by his government.
General Oshima reported that his negotiations were being
conducted under the personal supervision of Hitler, who
frequently conferred with Von Ribbentrop and gave him in-
structions. His correspondence revealed that the purpose of
the negotiations was the conclusion of a secret pact to
coordinate all the moves made by Berlin and Tokyo in
Western Europe as well as in the Pacific. No reference to
the Communist International, and no suggestion of any move
against communism, was contained in this correspondence
covering more than a year of negotiations.
Under the terms of the secret agreement, Japan and Ger-
many undertook to regulate between themselves all matters
relating to the Soviet Union and to China, and to take no
action either in Europe or in the Pacific without consulting
each other. Berlin also agreed to place its improvements in
weapons of war at the disposal of Tokyo and to exchange
military missions with Japan.
At five o'clock one afternoon, my courier took off for Paris
with my coded message. I returned home and took a rest for
several days. From then on, all correspondence between
General Oshima and Tokyo flowed regularly through our
hands. It revealed finally that a secret pact had been drawn
up and initialed by General Oshima and Von Ribbentrop.
The pact was so worded as to extend the field of cooperation
between Japan and Germany to include interests beyond
China and Soviet Russia.
There was but one problem to settle: How to camouflage
18
the secret agreement; Hitler decided to draft the anti-
Comintern pact as a device for misleading world opinion.
On November twenty-fifth, in the presence of all the
envoys of the foreign powers in Berlin, with the exception
of the Soviet Union, the anti-Comintern pact was signed by
the official representatives of the governments of Germany
and Japan. The pact is a public document consisting of a
couple of brief clauses. Behind it lies concealed a secret
agreement, the existence of which has never been acknowl-
edged.
Stalin was, of course, in possession of all the proofs of this
which I had uncovered. He decided to show Hitler that the
Soviet government knew all about it. Foreign Commissar
Litvinov was assigned to spring the surprise upon Berlin.
On November twenty-eighth addressing an extraordinary
session of the Congress of Soviets, Litvinov said:
Well-informed people refuse to believe that in order to
draw up the two meager articles which have been published
of the German-Japanese agreement, it was necessary to con-
duct negotiations for fifteen months; that these negotiations
should have been entrusted to a Japanese general and a Ger-
man super-diplomat, and that they should have been con-
ducted in extraordinary secrecy and kept secret even from
German and Japanese official diplomacy , . .
As for the German-Japanese agreement which has been
published, I would recommend to you not to seek for any
meaning in it, since it really has no meaning. It is only a
cover for another agreement which was simultaneously dis-
cussed and initiated, probably also signed, and which was not
published and is not intended for publication.
I assert, realizing the full weight of my words, that it was
to the working out of this secret document, in which the
word communism is not even mentioned, that fifteen months
of negotiations between the Japanese military attach^ and
the German super-diplomat were devoted . . .
19
This agreement with Japan will tend to extend any war
which breaks out on one continent to at least two, if not more
than two, continents.
Needless to say, there was consternation in Berlin,
As for my own share in this affair, Moscow hailed it as a
triumph. I was recommended for the Order of Lenin. The
recommendation was approved all along the line, but got
lost sight of at the time of the Red Army purge. I never
received it.
An American sequel to the German- Japanese secret pact
came to my attention when I was already in the United
States. In January, 1939, Hitler appointed his personal aide,
Capt, Fritz Wiedemann, consul general at San Francisco.
Fritz Wiedemann had been Private Hitler's commanding
officer in the World War and is one of the Fuehrer's most
intimate and trusted collaborators. The appointment of such
a figure to a seemingly minor post on the Pacific suggests
the significance of the German-Japanese secret agreement.
Hitler included in his plans even the possibility of joint
maneuvers with Japan in the Pacific.
Lieutenant General Oshima was elevated from military
attach^ to Japanese ambassador to Germany in October,
1938, and presented his credentials to Hitler on November
twenty-second, last.
Now, what was the effect of the Berlin-Tokyo pact upon
the Kremlin's foreign policy? How did Stalin react to Hitler's
enveloping operation against the Soviet Union?
Stalin continued his two simultaneous courses of action.
The series of maneuvers he executed on the surface is a
matter of open record. He strengthened his association with
France by a special treaty and pressed for an alliance. He
entered into a mutual-assistance pact with Czechoslovakia.
He launched the united-front campaign throughout the anti-
20
Fascist world. He had Litvinov inaugurate the crusade for
collective security, designed to align all the great and small
powers in the defense of the Soviet Union from German-
Japanese aggression. He intervened in Spain in order to
forge a closer link with Paris and London.
But all these surface moves were designed only to impress
Hitler, and bring success to his undercover maneuvers which
had but one aim: a close accord with Germany. No sooner
was the German-Japanese pact signed than Stalin directed
the Soviet trade envoy in Berlin, his personal emissary, David
Kandelaki, to go outside the ordinary diplomatic channels
and at whatever cost arrive at a deal with Hitler. At a meet-
ing of the Politbureau held at this time, Stalin definitely
informed his lieutenants: "In the very near future we shall
consummate an agreement with Germany."
In December, 1936, 1 received orders to throttle down our
work in Germany. The first months of 1937 were passed in
expectancy of a favorable outcome of Kandelakf s secret nego-
tiations. I was in Moscow when he arrived from Berlin, in
April, accompanied by the Ogpu representative in Germany.
Kandelaki brought with him the draft of an agreement with
the Nazi government. He was received in private audiences
by Stalin, who believed that he had at kst achieved the goal
of all his maneuvers.
At this time I had occasion for a long conference with
Yezhov, then head of the Ogpu. Yezhov had just reported
to Stalin on certain operations of mine. Yezhov had been a
metal worker in his youth, raised in the Stalin school. This
dreaded marshal of the great purge had a simple mind. Any
question of policy he took up with Stalin at once, and what-
ever the big boss said, he repeated word for word, and then
translated into action.
Yezhov and I discussed various reports in our possession
21
as to discontent in Germany, and possible opposition to
Hitler from the old monarchist groups. Yezhov had discussed
the same subject that very day in his conference with Stalin.
His words were practically a phonographic record of the
boss himself:
"What's all this drivel about discontent with Hitler in the
German army?" he exclaimed. "What does it take to content
an army? Ample rations? Hitler furnishes them. Good arms
and equipment? Hitler supplies them. Prestige and honor?
Hitler provides it. A sense of power and victory? Hitler gives
that, too. The talk about army unrest in Germany is all
nonsense.
"As for the capitalists, what do they need a Kaiser for?
They wanted to put the workers back in the factories. Hitler
has done it for them. They wanted to get rid of the Com-
munists. Hitler has them in jails and concentration camps.
They were fed up with labor unions and strikes. Hitler has
put labor under state control and outlawed strikes. Why
should the industrialists be discontented?''
Yezhov continued in the same vein: Germany is strong.
She is now the strongest power in the world. Hitler has made
her so. Who can doubt it? How can anyone in his senses fail
to reckon with it? For Soviet Russia there is but one course.
And here he quoted Stalin: "We must come to terms with a
superior power like Nazi Germany/*
Hitler, however, again rebuffed Stalin's advances. By the
end of 1937, with the collapse of the Stalin plans in Spain
and the Japanese successes in China, the international isola-
tion of the Soviet Union became extreme. Stalin then took,
on the surface, a position of neutrality between the two major
groups of powers. On November 27, 1937, speaking in Lenin-
grad, Foreign Commissar Litvinov poked fun at the demo-
22
cratic nations for their handling of the Fascist nations. But
Stalin's underlying purpose remained the same.
In March, 1938, Stalin staged his ten-day super-trial of
the Rykov-Bukharin-Krestinsky group of Bolsheviks, who
had been Lenin's closest associates and who were among the
fathers of the Soviet Revolution. These Bolshevik leaders-
hateful to Hitler were shot by Stalin on March third. On
March twelfth, with no protest from Russia, Hitler annexed
Austria. Moscow's only reply was a proposal to call a parley
of the democratic nations. Again, when Hitler annexed the
Sudeten areas in September, 1938 Litvinov proposed con-
certed aid to Prague, but made it conditional upon action
by the League of Nations. Stalin himself remained silent
during the whole eventful year of 1938. But signs have not
been wanting since Munich of his continued wooing of
Hitler.
On January 12, 1939, there took place before the entire
diplomatic corps in Berlin the cordial and demonstrative
chat of Hitler with the new Soviet ambassador. A week later
an item appeared in the London News Chronicle reporting
a coming rapprochement between Nazi Germany and Soviet
Russia. And this item was immediately and prominently
reprinted, without comment and without refutation, in
Stalin's mouthpiece, the Moscow Pravda.
On January twenty-fifth, W. N. Ewer, foreign editor of
the London Daily Herald, leading British Labor paper, re-
ported that the Nazi government was 'now almost convinced
that in the event of a European war the Soviet Union would
adopt a policy of neutrality and non-intervention" and that a
German trade delegation whose "objects are political rather
than commercial" was on the way to Moscow.
Early in February it was disclosed that Moscow had made
a deal to sell its oil only to Italy and Germany and nations
23
friendly to the Rome-Berlin axis. For the first time in its
history the Soviet government had stopped the sale of oil to
private foreign corporations. This new policy would provide
supplies vital to Italy and Germany in case of war with Great
Britain and France.
Then, on Friday, March 10, 1939, Stalin at last spoke up.
It was his first word since the annexation of Austria and the
Sudeten lands by Germany, and he displayed such remark-
able good humor toward Hitler that it came as a shock to
world opinion. He excoriated the democracies for plotting
to "poison the atmosphere and provoke a conflict" between
Germany and Soviet Russia, for which, he said, there were
"no visible grounds.'*
Three days after Stalin's speech* Hitler dismembered
Czechoslovakia. Two days later, he extinguished Czecho-
slovakia altogether. Of course, this was the result of Cham-
berlain's policy of appeasement The world did not then
realize that it was also the result of Stalin's policy of appease-
ment. Secretly Stalin had been playing the Rome-Berlin axis
against the London-Paris axis all along. He does not believe
in the strength of the democratic states.
To Stalin it was clear that Hitler had undertaken to solve
the entire problem of Central and Southeastern Europe, to
bring the peoples and resources in those areas under his
political and economic domination, and to extend there his
military base for future operations.
Stalin has seen Hitler in recent years reach out and get a
foothold for a leap in almost every direction. He has dropped
an anchor in the Pacific, and put his hand in South America.
He is coming within striking distance of the British Empire
in the Near East. And he has, with the aid of Mussolini,
driven a stake in colonial Africa.
Stalin wants to avoid war at any cost. He fears war most.
24
If Hitler will assure him peace, even at the price of impor-
tant economic concessions, he will give Hitler a free hand
in all these directions. . . .
The above account of Stalin's hidden policies toward
Hitler's Germany was written and published in the Saturday
Evening Post several months before August 23, 1939, when
the world was astounded by the signing of the Stalin-Hitler
pact. It is needless to say that the pact was no surprise to
the author. Both Molotov and Von Ribbentrop assert that
the Nazi-Soviet pact inaugurates a new epoch in German-
Russian relations, which will have profound consequences
for the future history of Europe and the world. That is abso-
lutely true.
25
II. The End of the Communist International
I HE Communist International was born in Moscow on
March 2nd, 1919. It received its death blow in Moscow on
August 23, 1939, with the signing of the Nazi-Soviet pact by
Premier Molotov and German Foreign Minister von Ribben-
trop. But its decay was apparent in many things that hap-
pened years before.
On a May morning in 1934, 1 was with Volynski, the chief
of the counter-espionage section of the Ogpu, in his office
on the tenth floor of the Lubianka building in Moscow,
Suddenly, from the street below, we heard the sound of
music and of singing men. Looking down we saw a parade
going by. The marchers were three hundred members of the
Austrian Socialist Army, the Schutzbtind, who had fought
heroically on the barricades in Vienna against the Fascist
Heimwehr. Soviet Russia had given refuge to this small
battalion of Socialist fighters.
I shall always remember that May morning: the happy
faces of the Schutzbundler as they marched, singing their
revolutionary song, Brueder Zur Sonne, Zur Freiheit, the
spontaneous fellowship of the Russian crowds as they joined
the march. For a moment I forgot where I was, but Volyn-
ski brought me down to earth.
"How many spies do you suppose there are among them,
Krivitsky?" he asked in the most natural tone of voice.
"Not one," I replied angrily.
26
"You re making a big mistake/' he said. "In six or seven
months seventy per cent of them will be sitting in the
Lubianka prison."
Volynski was a good judge of the way the Stalin machine
f unctioned. Of those three hundred Austrians not a single one
remains today on Soviet territory. Many of them were ar-
rested soon after their arrival. Others, although they knew
what awaited them at home, came flocking to the Austrian
embassy for their passports and returned home to serve long
prison sentences.
"Better behind bars in Austria/' they said, "than at liberty
in the Soviet Union/*
The last of these refugees were shipped by the Soviet
government to the International Brigade in Spain during the
Spanish Civil War. Stalin was moving swiftly on the road
to totalitarian despotism, and the Comintern had long since
outworn its original purpose.
The Communist International was f ounded by the Russian
Bolshevik Party* twenty years ago in the belief that Europe
was on the eve of world revolution. Lenin, its moving spirit,
was convinced that the Socialist and labor parties of West-
ern Europe by supporting the "imperialist war" waged by
their governments from 1914 to 1918, had forfeited the sup-
port of the working masses. He believed that the traditional
labor parties and Trade Union Federations of Germany,
France, Great Britain and the United States with their faith
in representative government and peaceful evolution to a
more equitable social order, were completely outmoded; that
it was die task of the victorious Russian Bolsheviks to pro-
* A few socialists or converts to Bolshevism accidentally in Moscow func-
tioned as "delegates" from their respective countries. But aside from the
representatives of the Left Wing of the Scandinavian Socialist Parties, the
only genuine delegate from a foreign revolutionary organization, Eberlein,
representing the Spartacusbund in Germany, came with instructions from
Rosa Luxeraboxirg to vote against the formation of a new intemationaL
27
vide revolutionary leadership to the workers of all nations.
The vision which guided Lenin was a Communist United
States of Europe and ultimately a world Communist order.
Lenin was certain that the Bolsheviks, despite their en-
thusiasm in the first flush of victory, could not build a Com-
munist society in Russia unless the working classes of
advanced countries came to their aid. He saw his bold ex-
periment doomed to failure unless backward agricultural
Russia was joined by at least one of the great industrial
states. He put his biggest hopes in a speedy revolution in
Germany.
The last twenty years indicate that Lenin underestimated
the significance of existing labor organizations, trade-union
as well as political, and over-estimated the adaptability to
Western Europe of Russian Bolshevism, with its battle cry
of the immediate overthrow of all governments, democratic
as well as autocratic, and the establishment of an Inter-
national Communist Dictatorship.
For two decades the Communist International the Com-
internfounded, inspired and directed by the Russian Bol-
sheviks, sought to implant their methods and their program
beyond the boundaries of the Soviet Union. It established its
Communist parties everywhere, patterned them closely
after the highly centralized and disciplined Bolshevik model
and made them responsible and obedient to the general staff
in Moscow.
It sent its agents to every corner of the earth. It planned
mass insurrections and military uprisings in Europe, in the
Far East, and in the Western Hemisphere. And finally, when
all these efforts failed, it embarked in 1935, upon its last
course of political action, the Popular Front. In this final
period, with the new weapons of camouflage and com-
promise, it made its greatest drive, penetrating into the
28
organs of public opinion and even the governmental institu-
tions of the leading democratic nations.
I was in a position from the very beginning until 1937
to observe closely the workings of the Comintern. I took a
direct political and military part in its revolutionary actions
abroad for eighteen years. I was one of the executive arms
of Stalin's intervention in Spain, during which the Comin-
tern sent its forces into battle for the last time.
My work with the Comintern began in 1920 during the
Russo-Polish war. I was then attached to the Soviet Military
Intelligence for the Western Front which had its headquar-
ters in Smolensk. As the Red Armies of Tukhachevsky moved
toward Warsaw it was the function of our department to
operate secretly behind the Polish lines, to create diversions,
to sabotage the shipment of munitions, to shatter the morale
of the Polish army by propaganda, and to furnish the general
staff of the Red Army with military and political information.
As there was no clear line separating our work from that
of the Comintern agents in Poland, we cooperated in every
possible way with the recently formed Polish Communist
Party, and we published a revolutionary newspaper Svit
(Dawn) which we distributed among the soldiers of the
Polish army.
On the day that Tukhachevsky stood before the gates of
Warsaw, Dombal, a peasant deputy, declared in the Polish
parliament: "I do not see in the Red Army an enemy. On the
contrary, I greet the Red Army as the friend of the Polish
people."
To us this was an event of great importance. We printed
DombaTs speech in Svit, and distributed hundreds of thou-
sands of copies throughout Poland, especially among the
Polish soldiers.
Dombal was immediately arrested and confined in the
29
Warsaw Citadel, the dreaded Polish political prison. After
three years the Soviet government finally obtained his re-
lease by exchanging him for a number of Polish aristocrats
and priests held as hostages. He then came to Moscow where
he was acclaimed as one of the heroes of the Comintern.
Lavish honors were heaped upon him and he was raised to a
high position. For more than a decade, Dombal was one of
the most important non-Russian officials of the Communist
International.
In 1936 he was arrested on a charge of having been a
Polish spy for seventeen years ever since his speech in the
Polish parliament. The Ogpu decided that Dombal's greeting
to the Red Army, as well as his three-year prison term, had
been part of a prearranged plot of the Polish Military Intel-
ligence. Dombal was executed.
During the Russo-Polish war the Polish Communist Party
worked hand in hand with our department, and we pre-
pared that party for action in cooperation with the Red
Army. The Polish Communist Party obeyed all the com-
mands of the advancing army of Tukhachevsky.
Members of the Polish Communist Party aided us in organ-
izing sabotage, in creating diversions, and in impeding the
arrival of munitions from France. We organized a strike in
Danzig to prevent the landing of French munitions for the
Polish army. I traveled to Warsaw, Cracow, Lemberg, Ger-
man and Czech Silesia and to Vienna, organizing strikes to
stop arms shipments. I organized a successful railroad strike
in the Czech railroad junction of Oderberg, persuading the
Czech trainmen to walk out, rather than handle Skoda muni-
tions for the Poland of Pilsudski.
"Railroad workers!" I wrote in a leaflet. "You are transport-
ing on your line guns to slaughter your Russian working-class
brothers."
30
At the same time, a Polish Soviet government, organized
in anticipation of the capture of Warsaw, was moving with
Tukhachevsky's staff toward the Polish capital. Felix Djer-
shinski, veteran Polish revolutionist and head of the Russian
Cheka (the earlier name for the Ogpu) had been appointed
by Moscow to head this government.
The Russo-Polish war was the one serious attempt made by
Moscow to carry Bolshevism into Western Europe on the
points of bayonets. It failed, despite all our efforts, military
and political, despite the victories of the Red Army, and
although we had a Polish section of the Comintern working
with our political agitators and intelligence men behind the
Polish front. In the end the exhausted Red Army was forced
to fall back. Pilsudski remained master of Poland. Lenin's
hope of joining hands through Poland, with the revolution-
ary workers of Germany and helping them extend the revolu-
tion to the Rhine was lost.
The idea of hastening Bolshevist Revolution through
military invasion had been entertained earlier, in 1919, dur-
ing the existence of the short-lived Hungarian and Bavarian
Soviet republics. Detachments of Red Guards were then
only about a hundred miles from Hungarian territory. But
the Bolsheviks were then too weak, and were moreover fight-
ing against the Whites for their very existence.
By the beginning of 1921, when the treaty of Riga was
signed between Russia and Poland, the Bolsheviks, and espe-
cially Lenin himself, realized that to bring successful revo-
lutions to Western Europe was a serious and long-time task.
There was no such hope of quick triumph on an interna-
tional scale as had existed at the first and second Congresses
of the Comintern when Zinoviev, its President, proclaimed
that within one year all Europe would be Communist. Even
31
after 1921, however, and as late as 1927, Moscow launched
a series of revolutionary adventures and putsches.
In this series of irresponsible attempts, thousands of
workers in Germany, in the Baltic and Balkan countries, and
in China, were needlessly sacrificed. They were sent to
slaughter by the Comintern on a gamble, with cooked-up
schemes of military coups d'etat, general strikes and rebel-
lions none of which had any substantial chance of success.
Early in 1921 the situation in Russia was particularly
threatening to the Soviet regime. Hunger, peasant uprisings,
the revolt of the sailors in Kronstadt, and a general strike of
the Petrograd workers, brought the government to the brink
of disaster. All the victories of the Civil War seemed to have
been in vain, as the Bolsheviks groped blindly in the face of
opposition from those workers, peasants and sailors who
had been their chief support. The Comintern, caught in this
desperate situation, decided that the only way of saving
Bolshevism was through a revolution in Germany. Zinoviev
sent his trusted lieutenant Bela Kun, former head of the
Hungarian Soviet republic, to Berlin.
Bela Kun appears in Berlin in March, 1921, with an order
to the Central Committee of the German Communist Party
from Zinoviev and the executive committee of the Comin-
tern: There is a revolutionary situation in Germany. The
Communist Party must seize power. The Central Commit-
tee of the German Communist Party is incredulous. The
members can scarcely believe their ears. They know that
they cannot hope to overthrow the Berlin government. But
Bela Kun's orders are clear: an immediate uprising, the
abolition of the Weimar republic, and the establishment of a
Communist dictatorship in Germany. The Central Commit-
tee of the German Communist Party obeys the instructions
from Moscow, As a loyal subordinate of the Executive Com-
32
mittee of the Communist International headed by Zinoviev
and directed by Lenin, Trotsky, Bukharin, Radek and Stalin,
the German Communist Party it can not disobey.
On March twenty-second, a general strike was declared in
the industrial districts of Mansfeld and Merseburg, central
Germany. On March twenty-fourth, the Communists seized
the city administration buildings at Hamburg. In Leipzig,
Dresden, Chemnitz, and other cities of central Germany the
Communists directed their attack upon court houses, city
halls, public banks and police headquarters. The official
German Communist newspaper, Die Rote Fahne, openly
called for a revolution.
In the Mansfeld copper mining district, Max Hoelz, the
Communist Robin Hood who had a year before single-
handedly waged guerrilla warfare against the Berlin govern-
ment throughout the Vogtland area of Saxony, arrived to
announce that he was in charge of operations. About the
same time a series of bombing outrages took place through-
out Germany, including attempts to blow up public build-
ings and monuments in Berlin. In this the government recog-
nized Hoelz's expert hand.
On March twenty-fourth, the Communist workers in the
huge nitrogen plant at Leuna, aimed with rifles and hand
grenades, barricaded themselves within the factory.
But the Communist effort to co-ordinate these localized
actions broke down completely. Their loyal, trained party
regulars responded to the call, and were sent to their death
by the party, battalion after battalion, more ruthlessly than
Ludendorff had sent his troops into battle. The great mass of
workers neither responded to the call for a general strike,
nor joined in the scattered outbreaks. By early April, the
uprising had been put down everywhere.
The leader of the German Communist Party, Dr. Paul
33
Levi, who had opposed the adventure as madness from the
very start was expelled from the party for putting the blame
in no uncertain language where it belonged.
He informed Moscow that it understood nothing of die
conditions in Western Europe, that it had sacrificed the lives
of thousands of workers upon an insane gamble. He referred
to the Bolshevik leaders, and the emissaries of the Comintern
as "scoundrels' 7 and "cheap politicians."
Within a short time after this March uprising, the Com-
munist Party of Germany had lost half of its members. As for
Max Hoelz, the Communist firebrand who expected to seize
power by dynamite, he was tried on charges of "murder,
arson, highway-robbery and fifty other counts" and sentenced
to life imprisonment.
I was interested in Hoelz's fate, because for all his wild
notions, he was undoubtedly an honest and bold revolution-
ist. To the workers of his native Vogtland he has become a
legendary figure. When I was stationed several years later in
Breslau, where Hoelz was imprisoned, I established contact
with one of his jailers who had become deeply attached to
him. Through him I sent Hoelz books, chocolates and food.
Together we plotted to liberate Hoelz. But it was necessary
for me to obtain assistance as well as authorization from the
Communist Party. I communicated with Hamann, the leader
of the party in Breslau, and he promised to have several
reliable men for me. I then went to Berlin and conferred
with the Central Committee of the party. They debated the
issue. Some wanted Hoelz released through a legal maneuver,
such as electing him to the Reichstag. Others believed that
his escape would be the very thing to galvanize the masses,
who were then very apathetic to the Communist Party. I was
granted permission to attempt the jail delivery- Upon my
34
return to Breslau, however, the first thing Hoelz's jailor told
me was: 'We have been ordered to chain up his door/*
The authorities had learned of our plot, through none other
than Hamarm himself, the leader of the Breslau Communists,
member of the Reichstag and police stool pigeon.
Hoelz was later released by legal means. Although I had
been working to effect his escape and was in constant com-
munication with him while in Breslau, I met him for the first
time in Moscow in 1932, at the apartment of Kisch, the
German Communist writer. When he learned who I was, he
laughed:
"Oh, you are the rich American uncle who sent me good
books and food."
In Moscow Hoelz was a hero for a time. He was awarded
the Order o the Red Banner, a factory in Leningrad was
named after him, and he was furnished with a good apart-
ment at the Hotel Metropole. But when the Communists
capitulated to Hitler in 1933 without firing a shot, and it
became clear that this was the official policy of Stalin and
the Comintern, Hoelz asked for his passport. He was put off
day after day, and spies were set on his trail. He became
furious. He demanded immediate permission to leave. His
friends in Moscow now avoided him. The Ogpu refused to
return his passport. A little later an insignificant notice ap-
peared in the Pravda announcing that Hoelz had been found
drowned in a stream outside Moscow. In the Ogpu I was told
that after the rise of Hitler, Hoelz had been seen coming out
of the German Embassy in Moscow. The fact is that Hoelz
was killed by the Ogpu because his glorious revolutionary
past made him a potential leader of the revolutionary opposi-
tion to the Comintern.
The defeat of the March uprising in Germany sobered
Moscow considerably. Even Zinoviev toned down his proc-
35
lamations and manifestoes. Europe was quite evidently not
done with capitalism. Nor was Russia itself for after the
suppression of the peasant rebellions and the Kronstadt re-
volt, Lenin made important economic concessions to peasants
and business men. Russia settled down to a period of internal
reconstruction, and the world revolution went decidedly into
the background. The Comintern was busy finding scapegoats
for its defeats, cleaning out Communist Central Committees
in various countries and appointing new leaders in their
places. Factional fights in the Communist Parties abroad kept
the machinery of the Comintern busy drawing up resolutions,
counter-resolutions and expulsion orders.
In January, 1923 I was working in Moscow in the third
section of the Intelligence Department of the Red Army,
Word reached us that the French were about to occupy the
Ruhr in order to collect reparations. I was living at this time
in the Hotel Lux, which was also the chief residence of the
officials of the Comintern and of visiting foreign Com-
munists. . . . ,
I want to explain that the Hotel Lux was, and still is in
fact, the headquarters of Western Europe in Moscow.
Through its lobbies pass Communist leaders from every
country, as well as trade union delegates, and individual
workers who have in some fashion earned a trip to the
proletarian Mecca.
Consequently, it is important for the Soviet government to
keep a close watch upon the Hotel Lux, in order to discover
exactly what the comrades in every country are saying and
doing, to know their attitude toward the Soviet government
and toward the warring factions within the Bolshevik Party.
For this purpose the Hotel Lux is honeycombed with Ogpu
agents registered as guests and residents. Among the agents
36
who lived at the Hotel Lux and kept the Ogpu informed
about the doings of foreign Communists and workers, was
Constantine Oumansky, at present Soviet ambassador to the
United States.
I met Oumansky in 1922 for the first time. Oumansky,
born in Bessarabia, had lived in Rumania and Austria until
1922 when he came to Moscow. Because of his knowledge
of foreign languages, he received a position with Tass, the
official Soviet News Agency. His wife was a typist in the
Comintern office.
When Oumansky's turn came to serve in the Red Army
he told me that he did not wish to "waste" two years in
common army barracks. Soviet life then had not assumed
the caste character it now bears, and his remark shocked me.
Most Communists still look upon service in the Red Army
as a privilege. Not so Oumansky. He presented himself at
the offices of the Intelligence Department with a recom-
mendation from Foreign Commissar Chicherin and from
Doletsky, Chief of the Tass, requesting that he be permitted
to "serve" his two years in the Anny as a translator for the
Fourth Department.
That very evening while I was in the company of Firin,
at that time assistant to General Berzin, Chief of the Mili-
tary Intelligence Department, I saw Oumansky in a Moscow
restaurant. I went over to his table and asked Trim why he
was dropping his job with Tass. He replied that he was going
to kill two birds with one stone keep his Tass job, and serve
his military term in the Fourth Department offices.
When I told this to Firin, he replied angrily:
"You may rest assured that he will not work in the Fourth
Department/'
In those years soft berths were not easily arranged, and
Oumansky did not get the translator* s job with the Red Army.
37
But he succeeded in staying out of those uncomfortable bar-
racks by serving as a diplomatic courier of the foreign office*
This was considered a substitute for military service, because
all diplomatic couriers are on the staff of the Ogpu. Without
giving up his Tass job, Oumansky traveled to Paris, Rome,
Vienna, Tokyo and Shanghai.
Oumansky served the Ogpu in the Tass News Agency
too, for here were Soviet journalists and correspondents hav-
ing a dangerously close contact with the outside world.
Oumansky was able to spy upon Tass reporters from every
vantage point, from the Moscow office and from abroad.
And at the Hotel Lux he kept his ear tuned sharply to bits
of stray conversation exchanged by foreign Communists. All
of Oumansky's superiors, in every department in which he
has worked, have either been removed and broken or fallen
before the bullets of the purge. These include his former
chief in the Tass, Doletsky, as well as nearly all his col-
leagues there; his former chief in the foreign office, Maxim
Litvinov; Alexander Troyanovsky, first Soviet ambassador to
the United States, and Vladimir Romm, Tass correspondent
in Washington, his personal friend. Troyanovsky and Romm
were recalled to Moscow from Washington while Oumansky
was working side by side with them in the United States.
Oumansky is one of the few Communists who succeeded
in crossing the barbed-wire frontier that separates the old
Bolshevik Party from the new. During the purge there was
only one passport across this frontier. You had to present
Stalin and his Ogpu with the required quota of victims.
Constantine Oumansky made good. , . *
When news reached our department of the French occu-
pation of the Ruhr, a group of five or six officers, including
myself, were ordered to leave at once for Germany. Within
38
twenty-four hours all arrangements were made. Moscow
hoped that the repercussions of the French occupation would
open the way for a renewed Comintern drive in Germany.
Within a week I was in Berlin. My first impression was
that Germany stood on the eve of cataclysmic events. Infla-
tion had carried the reichsmark to astronomical heights;
unemployment was wide-spread; there were daily street
'fights between workers and police, as well as between work-
ers and nationalist fighting brigades. The French occupation
added fuel to the flames. For a moment it even looked as if
exhausted and impoverished Germany might take up arms
in a suicidal war against France.
The Comintern leaders followed German events cau-
tiously. They had come off badly in 1921, and they wanted
to be certain that no blow was struck until internal chaos
was complete. Our Intelligence Department, however, had
given us very definite instructions. We were sent to Germany
to reconnoiter, to mobilize elements of unrest in the Ruhr
area, and to forge the weapons for an uprising when the
proper moment arrived.
We at once created three types of organizations in the
German Communist Party; the Party Intelligence Service
working under the guidance of the Fourth Department of
the Red Army; military formations as the nucleus of the
future German Red Army, and Zersetzungsdienst, small
units of men whose function was to shatter the morale of the
Reichswehr and the police.
At the head of the Party Intelligence Service we named
Hans Kiepenberger, the son of a Hamburg publisher. He
worked tirelessly, weaving an elaborate spy net in the ranks
of the army and police, the governmental apparatus, and
every political party and hostile fighting organization. His
agents penetrated the monarchist Stahlhelm, the Wehrwolf
39
and the Nazi units. Working hand in hand with the Zer-
setzungsdienst, they secretly sounded out certain officers of
the Reichswehr concerning the stand they would take in
the event of a Communist uprising.
Kiepenberger served the Comintern with great loyalty and
courage. During the events of 1923, his life was in danger
every day. In the end he suffered the fate that befell all loyal
Communists. Elected to the Reichstag in 1927, he became a
member of the Committee on Military Affairs. Regarding
himself as the Comintern's representative on that body, he
supplied the Soviet Military Intelligence with valuable in-
formation for many years. He remained in Germany for
some months after Hitler came to power, continuing to do
dangerous underground work for the Communist Party. In
the fall of 1933 he fled to Russia. In 1936 he was arrested as
a Nazi spy.
The Ogpu examiner pressed him for an admission that he
was in the service of the German Intelligence. Kiepenberger
refused to "confess" "Ask Krivitsky whether I could become
a Nazi agent," he pleaded. "He knows what 1 1 did in Ger-
many/*
"Didn't you know General Bredow, head of the Reichs-
wehr Military Intelligence?" asked the Ogpu examiner.
"Of course I knew him,** replied Kiepenberger, "I was
a member of the Communist fraction of the Reichstag and
on the Military Affairs Committee." (General Bredow had
frequendy appeared before the Reichstag Committee.)
The Ogpu had no further "incriminating" evidence against
Kiepenberger. Nevertheless, after six months of "question-
ing" the dauntless fighter "confessed" that he was in the
service of the German Military Intelligence. "There is a nail
in my head," he kept repeating. "Give me something that will
put me to sleep."
40
We Soviet officers organized German Communist Military
formations, the foundation of the German Red Army that was
never to be, in a very systematic fashion, dividing them into
units of one hundred men, Hundertschaft. We prepared
lists of Communists who had served in the war, cataloging
them according to their military rank. Out of this list we
expected to create the officers corps of the German Red
Army. We also orga.ni7.ed a technical staff of experienced
specialists: machine-gunners, artillery officers, the nucleus
of an aviation corps, and a liaison personnel chosen from
trained wireless and telephone operators. We set up an
organization of women and trained them for hospital duty.
In the Ruhr, however, as a result of the French occupation,
we were faced with an entirely different problem. The Ruhr
was the scene of one of the strangest spectacles in history.
Unable to oppose French arms by force, the Germans were
waging a war of passive resistance. Mines and factories shut
down, leaving only skeleton staffs at their places to prevent
the mines ftfjm flobdin^ and to keep factory equipment in
working order. Railroads were almost at a standstill. Un-
employment was universal. The Berlin government, already
faced With a fantastic inflation, supported virtually the entire
population of the Ruhr.
Meanwhile the French began to encourage the Separatist
movement which aimed to detach the entire Rhineland from
German^* and form an independent state. Casual observers
thought that the Separatist movement was nothing but
French propaganda. In fact, however, it was native and very
serious, and if the British had not opposed it, the Rhineland
would have severed itseH from Germany in 1923. In many
Rhenish homes I saw busts of Napoleon, the creator of the
Confederation of the Rhine. Often enough I heard the in-
41
habitants complain that their rich country was exploited by
Prussia.
The Communist Party opposed the Separatist movement
by every means at its disposal. The slogan of the Comintern
was "War Against Stresemann and PoincarP The slogan of
the Nazis and their nationalist allies was: 'War Against
Poincar6 and Stresemann!" It was during these days that
Schlageter, a Nazi terrorist, was executed by the French
military authorities. Schlageter's death would have passed
unnoticed outside the narrow circle of his comrades had
not Karl Radek, the Comintern's cleverest propagandist,
brought it home to the German people. "Join the Com-
munists," cried Radek, "and you will liberate the Fatherland
nationally and socially!"
For a time negotiations went on between Radek and a
number of Nazi and Nationalist leaders, notably Count
Revendow. The basis for collaboration was that German
nationalism's sole chance of success was in joining hands
with Bolshevik Russia against imperialist France and Great
Britain. But this union was not consummated. It was not
until 1939 that it finally took place under conditions vastly
different from those contemplated by Moscow when
many was the underdog.
Meanwhile everything was prepared for a Separatist^
detat. The leaders of the Separatist Party Mathes,
Smithmarshaled their forces. A great demonstration in
seldorf late in September was to be the signal for the proda*
mation of the Rhenish republic. '
The Nationalists were combatting the Separatists by indi-
vidual acts of terror. The Communist Party called a counter-
demonstration "against the Separatist traitors." When the
two conflicting forces met at a cross section in the city, I saw,
for the first time in my life, Communists fighting side by
42
side with Nationalist terrorists and the German police. The
Separatists were defeated, mainly because of the interfer-
ence of the pro-German British cabinet.
Even while we were supporting German Nationalists
against the French in the Rhineland and the Ruhr with every
weapon at our disposal, we decided that in the event of a
Communist uprising in Germany, we would not allow our-
selves to be drawn into conflict with French military forces.
Our plan of strategy, as formulated by our staff officers in
the Rhineland/ called for the withdrawal of our party mili-
tary formations * into central Germany, into Saxony, and
Thuriijgia, where the Communists were particularly strong
at tht time. We trained our units with that in mind.
In preparing for the Communist revolution, the German
Communists created small terrorist groups, so-called *T*
units, to demoralize the Reichswehr and the police by as-
sassinations. The T units were composed of fiercely cour-
ageous zealots.
I recall a meeting of one of these groups on a September
evening in the city of Essen, shortly before the Communist
uprising. I recall how they came together, quietly, almost
solemnly, to receive their orders. Their commander an-
nounced tersely:
"Tonight we act."
Calmly they took out their revolvers, checked them for
the last time, and filed out one by one. The very next day
the Essen press reported the discovery of the body of a
murdered police officer, assassin unknown. For weeks these
groups struck swiftly and effectively in various parts of Ger-
many, picking off police officers and other enemies of the
Communist cause.
When peace came these fanatics could find no place in
the orderly life of the country. Many of them took part in
43
armed holdups for revolutionary purposes at first, and then
simply in acts of brigandage. The few who found their way
to Russia usually wound up in Siberia in exile.
In the meantime the German Communist Party was await-
ing instructions from the Comintern which seemed incredibly
slow in coming. In September Brandler, the leader of the
party, and several of his colleagues were summoned to Mos-
cow for instructions. Interminable discussions took place in
the Political Bureau,- the supreme body of the Russian Com-
munist Party, where the Bolshevik leaders were debating the
proper hour to launch a German revolution. For many anx-
ious hours the leaders of the German Communist Party
cooled their heels in Moscow while the Bolshevik brain trust
was formulating its final plan of action.
Moscow decided to do the thing thoroughly this time. It
secretly dispatched its best people into Germany: Bukharin;
Max Levine, who had been one of the leaders of the four
weeks' Bavarian Soviet dictatorship; Piatakov, Hungarian
and Bulgarian Comintern agents, and Karl Radek himself.
We Red Army men in Germany continued training our mili-
tary forces. We held secret night maneuvers in the woods
near Solingen in the Rhineland in which several thousand
workers would take part.
At last the word went around: "Zinoviev has set the date
for the uprising."
Communist Party units throughout Germany awaited their
final instructions. A telegram arrived from Zinoviev to the
German Central Committee fixing the exact hour. Comintern
couriers hastened to the various party centers with the com-
mand from Moscow, Guns were removed from their hiding
places. With mounting tension we awaited the zero hour.
And then, . . .
44
"A new telegram from 'Grisha,*** said the Communist
leaders. "The insurrection is postponed!"
Again the Comintern couriers sped through Germany with
new orders and a new date for the revolution. This state of
alarm continued for several weeks. Almost every day a new
telegram would arrive from 'Grisha' (Zinoviev) new orders,
new plans, new agents from Moscow with new instructions
and new revolutionary blueprints. At the beginning of Oc-
tober, orders came through for the Communists to join the
governments of Saxony and Thuringia in coalition with the
Left Socialists. Moscow thought that these governments
would become effective rallying centers for the Communists,
and that the police could be disarmed in advance of the
uprising.
At last the stage was set. A categorical telegram came
through from Zinoviev. Again the couriers of the Comintern
sped to every party district in Germany passing along the
word. Again the Communist battalions mobilized for the
attack. The hour drew near. There could be no turning back
now, we thought, and awaited with relief the end of those
nerve-wracking weeks of delay. At the last moment the
Central Committee of the German Party was again hurriedly
convened.
"A new telegram from *GrishaT The insurrection is post-
poned again!"
Again messengers were dispatched with urgent last minute
cancellation orders to the party centers. But the courier to
Hamburg arrived too late. The Hamburg Communists, with
true German discipline, went into battle at the appointed
hour. Hundreds of workers aimed with rifles attacked the
police station. Others occupied strategic points in the city.
Communist workers in other parts of Germany were
thrown into a state of panic.
45
"Why are we doing nothing while the workers of Ham-
burg are fighting?" they asked the district leaders of their
party. "Why don't we come to their aid?"
The party lieutenants had no answer to give them. Only
those on top knew that the workers of Hamburg were perish-
ing because of 'GrishaY ktest telegram. The Hamburg
Communists held out for about three days. The great
working-class masses of the city remained indifferent, and
Saxony and Thuringia did not come to the aid of the Com-
munists. The Reichswehr under General Von Seckt entered
Dresden and threw the Communist-Left Socialist cabinet of
Saxony out of office. The Thuringia cabinet suffered the same
fate. The Communist revolution had fizzled out.
Those of us in Germany all knew that headquarters in
Moscow were responsible for the fiasco. The entire strategy
of the proposed revolution had been worked out by the
Bolshevik leaders of the Comintern. This made it necessary
to find a scapegoat. The factional rivals of Brandler in the
German Party were familiar with the Comintern technique
of covering up the mistakes of the high command, and they
at once swung into action.
"Brandler and the Central Committee are responsible for
our failure to capture power," shouted the new "opposition**
headed by Ruth Fischer, Thaelmann and Maslow.
"Entirely correct/' echoed Moscow. "Brandler is an oppor-
tunist, a social democrat. He must go! All hail to the new
revolutionary leadership of Ruth Fischer, Thaelmann and
Maslow!**
At the next World Congress of the Comintern this was all
dressed up in ritualistic resolutions and decrees, and with
Moscow's blessings the German Communist Party was turned
over to its new general staff.
Brandler received an order to come to Moscow, where
46
he was deprived of his German passport and given a Soviet
office job. German matters, he was informed by Zinoviev,
were no longer to concern him. All of his efforts to return
to Germany were unsuccessful until his friends threatened
to create an international scandal by bringing the matter to
the attention of the Berlin government. Only then was he
released from Soviet Russia and expelled from the Com-
munist Party.
Souvarine, the eminent French writer and author of the
most comprehensive biography of Stalin, had the same
experience. Ousted in 1924 from the leadership of the French
Communist Party by order of the Comintern, he was de-
tained by the Soviet government until his friends in Paris
threatened to appeal to the French authorities.
Upon one branch of the Soviet government the costly ex-
periment of 1923 was not entirely wasted. That was the Mili-
tary Intelligence Service. When we saw the collapse of the
Comintern's efforts, we said: "Let's save what we can of the
German revolution/' We took the best men developed by our
Party Intelligence and the Zersetzungsdienst, and incorpo-
rated them into the Soviet Military Intelligence. Out of the
ruins of the Communist revolution we built in Germany for
Soviet Russia a brilliant intelligence service, the envy of
every other nation.
Shaken by the defeat in Germany, Moscow began looking
for other fields of conquest. By the kte fall of 1924, Germany
had become stabilized. The Communist International after
nearly six years had not a single victory with which to justify
its enormous squandering of money and lives. Thousands of
Comintern parasites were on the Soviet payrolls. Zinoviev's
position within the Bolshevik Party was beginning to wobble.
A victory, somehow, somewhere, was necessary at any cost.
On Soviet Russia's western border was Estonia, a tiny
47
nation, then apparently in the throes of a crisis. Zinoviev
and the executive committee of the Comintern decided to
throw all Marxian theory to the wind. Summoning the chief
of die Intelligence Department of the Red Army, General
Berzin, Zinoviev spoke to him along these lines: Estonia is in
a revolutionary crisis. We will not act there as we did in
Germany. We will use new methods no strikes, no agitation.
All we need is a few courageous groups under the command
of a handful of Red Army officers, and in two or three days
we will be masters of Estonia.
General Berzin was a man who obeyed orders. In a few
days a group of about sixty reliable Red Army officers,
mainly Baltic Russians, was organized under Zhibur, one of
the heroes of the civil war. They were directed to enter
Estonia through different routes, some through Finland and
Latvia, others by slipping across the Soviet border. Awaiting
them in Estonia were scattered special Communist units
totaling about two hundred men. By late November all
preparations were ready.
On the morning of December 1, 1924, a "revolution"
struck at specified focal points in Reval, the capital. The
country remained completely calm. The workers proceeded
to their factories as usual. Business moved at a normal pace,
and in about four hours the "revolution'' was completely
crushed. About one hundred and fifty Communists were shot
on the spot. Hundreds of others not connected with the
affair in any way, were jailed. The Red Army officers re-
turned quicHy to Russia along pre-arranged routes. Zhibur
reappeared at his desk in the offices of the General Staff, and
the Estonian "revolution" was hushed up as quickly as pos-
sible.
In Bulgaria, tie Comintern enjoyed a period of prosperity
while Stambouliski, the leader of the Peasant Party, was in
48
power. Stambouliski was friendly to Moscow. The remnants
of General Wrangel's White Army, which the Bolsheviks had
driven out of the Crimea, were on Bulgarian territory, and
the Soviet government was anxious to break up this force.
With Stambouliski's consent Russia sent a group of secret
agents into Bulgaria for this purpose. These agents used
every method of propaganda, including the publication of a
newspaper, and every means of terror, including assassina-
tion. To a considerable extent they were successful in de-
moralizing this potential anti-Soviet army.
Despite these friendly relations between Stambouliski and
Moscow, when in 1923 Tsankoff executed a military revolt
against Stambouliski's government Moscow directed the Bul-
garian Communist Party to remain neutral. The Communist
leaders hoped that as a result of the death straggle between
the army reactionaries and Stambouliski, they would gain
full power for themselves.
Stambouliski was overthrown and slain. Tsankoff estab-
lished a military dictatorship. Thousands of innocent people
went to the gallows, and the Communist Party was driven
underground.
Two years passed and the Comintern decided that the
time had come for a Communist putsch against the Tsankoff
government. A conspiracy was organized in Moscow by the
leaders of the Bulgarian Communist Party with the assistance
of Red Army officers. One of these Bulgarian leaders was
George Dimitrov. The Communists learned that on April
16, 1925, all the ranking members of the Bulgarian govern-
ment would attend services in the Sveti Cathedral in Sofia.
They decided to use the occasion for their uprising. By order
of the Central Committee of the Bulgarian Party, a bomb
was exploded in the cathedral during the religious services.
About one hundred and fifty persons were killed. But Pre-
49
mier Tsankoff and the important members of his government
survived. All the direct participants in the bombing were
executed.
Dimitrov himself continued to work for the Comintern in
Moscow. He became its representative in Germany. Late in
1932 he was ordered back to Moscow, and people on the
inside said that his career was at an end. Before he could
obey the order he was arrested in connection with the his-
toric Reichstag fire. His bold and clever behavior before the
Nazi court, where he succeeded in fixing the guilt on the
Nazis themselves, made him the Communist hero of the day.
It is one of the inimitable ironies of Comintern history that
Dimitrov, one of those responsible for the Sofia bombing,
kter became, as president of the Comintern, the official
spokesman of "democracy/* "peace," and the popular front.
Moscow had elaborate theoretical explanations for its fail-
ures in Hungary, Poland, Germany, Estonia and Bulgaria.
These filled volumes of theses, resolutions and reports. In no
case, however, was it suggested that Bolshevism and its Rus-
sian leaders were responsible. The myth of the infallibility
of the Comintern leaderhip was preserved with ecclesiastical
stubbornness. The clearer became the fact of failure, the
more grandiose became the plans for the future, and the
more complicated the international structure of the Comin-
tern.
Although the Communist International never accom-
plished its primary aim, the establishment of a Communist
dictatorship, in a single country, it became especially after
it turned to the stratagem of the popular front one of the
most important political agencies in the world.
The general framework of the Comintern is no secret. It is
widely known that there are Communist Parties, legal or
illegal, in every country of the world. The world knows that
50
the headquarters are in Moscow. But it knows almost nothing
of the real apparatus, and its intimate connection with the
Ogpu and Soviet Military Intelligence.
The general staff of the Comintern is located in a building
facing the Kremlin and heavily guarded by Ogpu agents in
civilian attire. It is no spot for curious Muscovites to congre-
gate. Persons who have business within the building, what-
ever their rank, are subjected to the very closest scrutiny
from the moment they enter until they depart. To the left of
the main entrance is the office of the commandant, staffed
by Ogpu agents.
If Earl Browder, general secretary of the American Com-
munist Party, desires an audience with Dimitrov, he must
obtain a pass in the commandant's office, where his papers
will be thoroughly examined. Before he is permitted to leave
the Comintern building his pass will again be examined. It
must bear, in Dimitrov's hand, the exact moment when their
interview ended. If any time has elapsed since the end of
the interview, an investigation is conducted on the spot.
Every minute spent in the Comintern building must be ac-
counted for and recorded. Informal chats in the corridors
are severely discouraged and it is not unusual for an Ogpu
agent to reprimand a ranking official of the Comintern for
violation of these rules. This system provides the Ogpu with
a comprehensive file regarding the associations of Russian
and foreign Communists, which can be put to use at the
proper time.
The heart of the Comintern is the little known and never
publicized International Liaison Section, known by its Rus-
sian initials as the O.M.S.* Until the purge got under way,
the O.M.S. was headed by Piatnitsky, a veteran Bolshevik,
trained during the Czarist regime in the practical business of
* Otdyd Mezhdunarodnoi SvyazL
51
distributing illegal revolutionary propaganda. Piatnitsky had
been in charge of the transport of Lenin's paper, Iskra, from
Switzerland to Russia in the early part of the century. When
the Communist International was organized Lenin's choice
for head of the all-important Foreign Liaison Section natu-
rally fell upon Piatnitsky. As the chief of the O.M.S. he be-
came, in effect, the Finance Minister and Director of Per-
sonnel of the Comintern.
He created a world-wide network of permanently sta-
tioned agents responsible to him, to act as the liaison officers
between Moscow and the nominally autonomous Communist
Parties of Europe, Asia, Latin America and the United States.
As resident agents of the Comintern, these O.M.S. repre-
sentatives hold the whip over the leaders of the Communist
Party in the country in which they are stationed. Neither the
rank and file, nor even the majority of the leaders of the
Communist Parties, know the identity of the O.M.S. repre-
sentative, who is responsible to Moscow, and who does not
participate directly in party discussions.
In recent years the Ogpu has gradually taken over many
of the O.M.S. functions, especially the hunting down and
reporting to Moscow of cases of heresy against Stalin. How-
ever, in the immensely complicated work of subsidizing and
co-ordinating the activities of the Communist Parties, the
O.M.S. is still the chief instrument
The most delicate job entrusted to the O.M.S. resident
agents is the distribution of money to finance the Communist
Parties, their expensive propaganda and their false fronts-
such, for instance, as the League for Peace and Democracy,
the International Labor Defense, the International Workers*
Aid, the Friends of the Soviet Union, and a host of osten-
sibly non-partisan organizations, which became especially
52
important cogs when Moscow embarked upon the popular
front.
For many years, while revolutionary prospects there
seemed promising, the Comintern poured the greater part
of its money into Germany and Central Europe. But when
it became more decisively an appendage of the Soviet gov-
ernment, and revolutionary objectives were sidetracked in
favor of Stalinizing public opinion and capturing key posi-
tions in the democratic governments, Moscow's budgets for
France, Great Britain and the United States were enormously
increased.
At no time has any single Communist Party in the world
managed to cover more than a very small percentage of its
expenses. Moscow's own estimate is that it must bear on an
average from ninety to ninety-five per cent of the expendi-
tures of foreign Communist Parties. This money is paid from
the Soviet treasury through the O.M.S. in sums decided upon
by Stalin's Political Bureau.
The O.M.S. resident agent is the judge, in the first instance,
of the wisdom of any new expenditure which a Communist
Party wishes to make. In the United States, for example, if
the Political Bureau of the American Communist Party con-
templates the publication of a new newspaper, the O.M.S.
agent is consulted. He considers the suggestion, and if it
merits attention he communicates with the O.M.S. head-
quarters in Moscow. From there, in important cases, it is
referred to the Political Bureau of the Russian Bolshevik
Party for decision. In minor matters, of course, the O.M.S.
representative has wide discretion.
One of the favorite methods of transmitting money and
instructions from Moscow to a foreign country for the use
of the local Communist Party is through the diplomatic
pouches, which are immune from search. For this reason the
53
O.M.S. representative is usually employed in a nominal
capacity in the Soviet Embassy. From Moscow he receives,
in packages bearing the seal of the Soviet government, rolls
of bank notes together with sealed instructions for their dis-
tribution. He personally delivers the roll of bills to the Com-
munist leader, with whom he maintains direct contact.
Through carelessness, American, British and French bank
notes have several times been sent abroad for Comintern
use bearing the telltale stamp of the Soviet State Bank.
In the first years of the Comintern the financing was done
even more crudely. I recall a time when the procedure was
for the Political Bureau to order the Cheka (Ogpu) to de-
liver sacks of confiscated diamonds and gold to the Comin-
tern for shipment abroad. Still other methods have since
been developed. Convenient blinds are the Soviet Trading
Corporations, such as the Arcos in London and the Amtorg
in the United States, and connected private business firms.
The constant displacement of leaders in the foreign Com-
munist Parties presents its own special problem to the O.M.S.
in its monetary operations. When Moscow supplanted the
leadership of the German Communist Party, after the failure
of the 1923 uprising, Mirov-Abramov, the O.M.S. agent in
Germany, as well as Piatnitsky in Moscow, spent many anx-
ious hours wondering whom they could now trust with
Comintern money. It was a relief to them when Wilhehn
Pieck was retained in the new Central Committee, for both
Piatnitsky and Mirov-Abramov trusted this veteran labor
leader.
Mirov-Abramov, whom I knew for many years, was the
O.M.S. representative in Germany from 1921 to 1930. Offi-
cially he worked in the press department of the Soviet Em-
bassy in Berlin. Actually he directed the distribution of
money and the transmission of Comintern instructions
54
throughout Germany and the greater part of Central Europe.
At the height of the Comintern's German drive, Mirov-
Abramov employed a staff of more than twenty-five as-
sistants and couriers. Later he was recalled to Moscow to
work as Piatnitsky's assistant. When the old Bolshevik gen-
eral staff of the Comintern was liquidated by Stalin, Mirov-
Abramov together with Piatnitsky were removed. Because of
his exceptional underground contacts in Germany, Mirov-
Abramov was then transferred to the Soviet Military Intelli-
gence where he served until 1937, when he was shot in the
great purge. Absurdly enough, when Yagoda, the fallen chief
of the Ogpu, was tried the following year, he declared on
the witness stand that he had sent large sums of money
through Mirov-Abramov to Trotsky.
Managing the finances of the Comintern and its foreign
section is only a small part of the tasks of the O.M.S. It func-
tions also as the nervous system of the Comintern. Envoys
dispatched by Moscow as political commissars to the Com-
munist Parties of foreign countries establish all their contacts
through the O.M.S., which furnishes them with passports,
directs them to "reliable" addresses, and generally acts as the
permanent liaison staff between the home offices in Moscow
and these political agents abroad.
A notable Comintern Commissar for the United States
some years ago was the Hungarian Communist, Pogany,
known in this country as John Pepper. His primary mission
here was to remove Lovestone and Gidow, the leaders of the
American Communist Party, after they had won a vote of
confidence from the vast majority of the party members.
Pogany-Pepper carried out his orders, and installed a new
high command for the American Communist Party. Pepper
himself was arrested in Moscow in 1936 and shot.
The passport division of the O.M.S., unlike the Ogpu and
55
Military Intelligence, does not actually manufacture pass-
ports. It gets genuine documents whenever possible and
doctors them according to requirements. In obtaining pass-
ports it draws upon the fanatical zeal of Communist mem-
bers and sympathizers. If the O.M.S. representative in the
United States requires two American passports for Comin-
tern agents in China, he communicates with his man in the
American Communist Party. This latter obtains genuine
United States passports from party members or sympa-
thizers. The O.M.S. staff then removes the photographs, sub-
stitutes others and skillfully makes the other necessary
changes.
Moscow has always been fond of American passports. In
another connection I have described the part they played
in the Spanish Civil War. It is not unusual for the O.M.S.
representative or Ogpu agents to send batches of American
passports to Moscow, where the central O.M.S. office has a
staff of about ten people engaged in fixing such documents
according to the Comintern's needs.
In 1924 the Berlin police raided the O.M.S. headquarters
there, and seized a batch of German passports, together with
files listing the names of their original owners, the true
names of the Comintern agents then using them, and the fic-
titious names with which they were traveling. For such
reasons of course a genuine passport is much preferred.
In 1927 the Comintern and the Ogpu sent Earl Browder
to China. I do not know why Browder was chosen for the
mission, but I believe the main reason was his American pass-
port. I am reminded in this connection of a conversation I
had with Piatnitsky. He had a man working for him named
Lobonovsky, whose incompetence was always the subject of
anecdotes in our circle. I would often run into Lobonovsky
in one of the capitals of Europe as he scurried about on
56
seemingly important missions. Later I had occasion to discuss
him with Piatnitsky.
"Tell me frankly, Comrade Piatnitsky/* I said, "why do
you keep that idiot on your staff?"
The veteran Bolshevik leader smiled tolerantly and
replied:
"My dear young Walter, the question here is not Lobonov-
sky's capability. What is important is that he has a Canadian
passport and I need a Canadian for the missions on which I
send him. No one else will do/*
"Canadian!" I exclaimed. "Lobonovsky isn't a Canadian.
He's a Ukranian born in Shepetovka."
Piatnitsky bellowed.
"What do you mean, a Ukranian born in Shepetovka! He
has a Canadian passport. That's good enough for me. Do you
think it's so easy to find a real Canadian? We've got to make
the best of a Canadian born in Shepetovka!"
I believe that when the Comintern debated the question of
sending Browder to China they were fully aware that he was
not an expert on Chinese affairs. But Browder is a real Amer-
icanfrom Kansas City, not Shepetovka.
Practically all matters regarding the manufacture and doc-
toring of passports and other documents are entrusted to
native Russians. Pre-war conditions in Czarist Russia gave
them exceptional training in this art. The elaborate passport
regulations which have become prevalent in most European
countries since 1918 found the Bolsheviks well prepared. In
the offices of the Ogpu and the Fourth Department of the
Red Army there are experts who can forge consular signa-
tures and government seals wholly indistinguishable from
the genuine article.
The Foreign Liaison Section has still another function of
great importance. It co-ordinates all the educational and
57
propaganda functions of the Comintern on an international
Jf XT O
scale. It conducts training schools in and about Moscow for
carefully selected Communists from every country, teaching
them all the angles of civil warfare, from propaganda to the
operation of machine guns.
These schools had their beginning during the first months
of the Bolshevik revolution when brief training courses were
given to German and Austrian war prisoners in the hope that
these "cadres" would use their knowledge on the barricades
of Berlin and Vienna. Later these courses became organized
institutions. The most promising students would receive mili-
tary instruction under the immediate tutelage of the Intelli-
gence Department of the General Staff of the Red Army.
In 1926, a university was established in Moscow to in-
struct Western European and American Communists in the
technique of Bolshevism. This university, the so-called Lenin
School, is subsidized by the O.M.S. which also provides living
quarters for the students. Its dean is the wife of Yaroslavsky,
Chief of the Soviet "League of the Godless/' The students
now largely British, French and American Communists, live
an entirely secluded life, and have little contact with either
Russians or foreigners in the Soviet Union. Graduates of this
Bolshevik academy are expected to return to their native
countries to work for the Comintern in labor unions, govern-
ment offices and other non-Communist positions. Secrecy is
maintained because their value to Moscow in the United
States, France and Great Britain is destroyed if it becomes
known that they have studied methods of civil warfare
under the Intelligence Officers of the Red Army.
Another training course, for very small groups of carefully
sifted foreign Communists, is conducted in complete secrecy
outside Moscow in the suburb of Kuntsevo. Here European
and American Communists are taught intelligence work, in-
58
eluding wire-tapping, the operation of secret radio stations,
passport forgery, etc.
When the Comintern began to turn its attention to China,
it created a university of the east, the so-called Sun-Yat-Sen
University, with Karl Radek at the head. Moscow was then in
a frenzy of optimism over the prospects of a Soviet revolution
in China. Sons of generals and of high Chinese officials were
invited to attend this special training school. Among them
was the son of Chiang Kai-shek. The Kuomintang, the
Chinese Nationalist Party, and the Comintern were then
working hand in hand, and Moscow felt that at last a big
victory was at hand.
The Kuomintang received a Russian political tutor, Boro-
din, and a Russian military advisor, General Galen-Bluecher,
later commander of the Soviet Far Eastern District until his
liquidation in 1938. Communists flocked into the Kuomintang
and many entered its central committee and its military
academy at Whampoa. When Chiang had received the full
benefit of Moscow's support he made a sharp about face and
on May 20, 1926 eliminated Communists from all important
positions, Stalin, however, avoided a clean break with Chiang,
hoping to outwit him later.
I was staying, at this time, at the hotel known before the
revolution as the Kniazi Dvor. Living on the same floor with
me was General Feng, the Christian General. Despite the
about-face in May, the Comintern leaders were still confident
of their approaching victory in China. Feng was in Moscow
maneuvering to arrange an alliance against Chiang Kai-shek.
Great importance was attached to his visit by the Soviet
leaders, who dragged him to meetings and parties and
boosted him as a leader of the Chinese masses. Feng played
his part admirably, promising everywhere in ringing speeches
to fight for the victory of Leninism in China.
59
Almost every day I saw a new crate of books and pam-
phlets delivered to the door of his suite, where Ogpu soldiers
stood guard. I spoke to Feng several times, partly in English,
partly in Russian. He was a typical Chinese war lord, to
whom nothing in the world was more foreign than the Lenin-
ism with which he was being bombarded. Like so many
others, he proved a disappointment. He returned to China
without opening the crates of books, and never gave another
moment's thought to the "Leninist" promises he had made in
Moscow.
In December 1927, after Chiang had completed his job
by shooting and decapitating thousands of Communists in
Shanghai, the Comintern sent Heinz Neumann, a former
leader of the German Communist Party, to lead an uprising
in Canton. The uprising lasted two and a half days and cost
nearly six thousand lives. All the Chinese Communist leaders
in Canton were executed and Heinz Neumann fled to
Moscow.
Wholly independent of the vast propaganda machinery of
the individual Communist Parties, with their newspapers,
magazines, books and pamphlets running into millions of dol-
lars annually, is the centralized propaganda apparatus of the
Comintern itself. It is in the charge of the Bureau of Agitation
and Propaganda, but financed and actually directed by the
Foreign Liaison Section. Its most important publication is
the International Press Correspondence, released in English,
French and German. It is intended primarily to benefit the
hundreds of Communist editors in various countries. The
Nazis have attempted to imitate this type of propaganda with
their World Service published in Erfurt and distributed to
pro-Fascist and anti-semitic editors throughout the world.
Nothing is more embarrassing to Moscow than those rare
occasions when the official newspapers of the Communist
60
Parties get their signals mixed, and take contradictory stands
on tiie same question. When the Berlin-Moscow pact was
signed, ten days before the outbreak of the present European
War, the synchronization of the Communist official organs
was perfect. The London Daily Worker, the Paris L'Hti-
manite, and the Daily Worker in the United States simul-
taneously and in identical language hailed this signal for
general war as a great contribution toward peace.
The Comintern also publishes in every leading country
including the United States, a magazine called the Com-
munist International, which contains the decisions of the
Comintern as well as articles by leading Russian and foreign
Communists .
These key publications serve a double function. Not only
do they insure unity of opinion throughout the Communist
Parties of Europe and America, but what in recent years has
become even more important, they constitute the mechanism
whereby Stalin is guaranteed a well-organized echo to every-
thing which he decrees in Moscow. During the great purge
it was very important for the Kremlin to be able to show the
Russian people that all the pro-Communist writers of West-
ern Europe and the United States backed him to the hilt in
his liquidation of the old Bolshevik heroes.
Foreigners little realize how vital it was for Stalin in 1936,
1937, and 1938 to be able to declare that the American,
British, French, German, Polish, Bulgarian and Chinese
Communists unanimously supported the liquidation of the
"Trotskyite, Fascist, mad-dogs, and wreckers," among them
even Zinoviev and Bukharin, the first two chiefs of the
Comintern.
Not a single Communist leader in the United States writing
during the period of the great purge, failed to furnish Stalin
61
with these prescribed epithets directed against the former
leaders of the Bolshevik Party and of the Comintern.
Even before the Comintern officially began its Popular
Front tactics, the O.M.S. had started to subsidize a new and
subtler form of propaganda. Moscow decided that it was no
longer adequate for its purposes to reach only those groups
whom it could attract by outright Communist slogans. In the
person of Willi Muenzenberg, once a leading German Com-
munist and member of the Reichstag, it found a means of
branching out into the field of what are called "front publica-
tions.** Muenzenberg was set up with O.M.S. funds, as a big
publisher and entrepreneur. He turned out attractive illus-
trated newspapers and magazines, all apparently non-parti-
san but nevertheless "sympathetic'* to the Soviet Union. He
later went into the motion picture business also and founded
a concern known as Prometheus. The Muenzenberg enter-
prises were cleverly managed and soon extended their opera-
tions into the Scandinavian countries. When Hitler came to
power, Muenzenberg transferred them to Paris and Prague.
When the great purge reached out for Muenzenberg it
found him an elusive target. He declined an invitation to
"visit*' Moscow. Dimitrov, the President of the Comintern,
wrote reassuring letters insisting that Moscow needed him
for important new assignments. Muenzenberg refused to bite.
The Ogpu then dispatched one of its agents, Byeletsky, to
convince him that he had nothing to fear.
"Who decides your fate?'* argued Byeletsky. "Dimitrov or
the Ogpu? And I know that Yezhov is on your side.*'
Muenzenberg avoided the trap, and during the entire
summer and fall of 1937 remained in hiding, fearing a
more violent type of persuasion. He turned Ids establish-
ments over to Smeral, a Czech Communist. The German
Communist Party expelled him and indexed him as an
62
"enemy of the people." Muenzenberg is alive in Paris today.
He has never come out openly against Stalin.
After the Seventh Congress of the Comintern in 1935 the
Muenzenberg front publications became a model for all
Europe and the United States. In Paris, the Comintern even
founded an evening newspaper, Ce Soir. But for the past
three or four years the Comintern has spent more money for
"non-partisan" publications and front organizations in the
United States than in any other country. So long as Moscow
adhered to the pretense of collective security and anti-
Hitlerism, the American public became a veritable campaign
ground for its propagandists. Instead of building revolution-
ary "cadres" among American workers, the job was now to
convince New Deal officials, respectable business executives,
trade-union leaders and journalists that Soviet Russia was
in the forefront of the forces of "peace and democracy."
At the height of this popular front campaign, when the
dictatorship within the Soviet Union was becoming more
and more totalitarian and the purge was the dominant fact
in Soviet life, the Comintern became more than ever, and
indeed essentially, an Ogpu subsidiary.
The Comintern has a "Control Commission" on the model
of that of the Russian Bolshevik Party, which is supposed
to watch over the political morals of its members. During
the years that Stalin climbed to sole power, as the factional
war in the Bolshevik party grew more acute, internal
espionage became the sole function of this body. The Control
Commission threw all wavering Stalinists out of the Russian
Communist Party. The Comintern Control Commission fol-
lowed this example on an international scale.
The Control Commission, however, is one of the milder
inquisitorial instruments at the disposal of the Stalin regime.
Another instrument, created to aid it, is a body bearing the
63
innocent title of "Cadres Section/' This is now the arm of
the Ogpu in the Comintern. For many years it was headed
by Krajewski, a Polish Communist, an old friend of Djerzhin-
sky, the first Chief of the Soviet Secret Police, and for many
years a Comintern agent in the United States and Latin
America. Krajewski planted his agents in every Communist
Party, and developed intra-party espionage to its present
level of supreme efficiency.
Every ten days the chief of this Cadres Section meets the
chief of a corresponding section of the Ogpu and turns over
to him the material gathered by his agents. The Ogpu then
uses this data as its sees fit. Today this police office in the
Comintern tracks down to its source every ripple of foreign
opposition to Stalin. It follows with special vigilance all
threads running from foreign Communists to potential oppo-
sitionists inside the Russian Communist Party.
One of the most unsavory jobs assigned to this department
is the luring to Moscow of foreign Communists suspected of
disloyalty to Stalin, A Communist who believes himself in
good standing with the Comintern will receive word from
the executive committee that he is needed in Moscow. Flat-
tered at this recognition of his importance, he hastens to the
Comintern capital. Upon his arrival he is turned over to the
Ogpu and disappears. Many such catches are credited to the
Cadres Section, which through its network of spies frequently
receives "information^ not only false > but malicious, tending
to show that the individual in question has not been toeing
the Stalinist line. The number of foreign Communists who
have been thus lured to their destruction will probably never
be ascertained.
Moscow has also more refined methods of handling foreign
Communist leaders who are in disfavor. An important politi-
cal figure who still enjoys a certain amount of prestige among
64
his own followers has to be whittled down before he is ready
for the discard. He must be compromised in the eyes of
Communists in his own country. When that is done, he can
be dealt with summarily.
The whittling down process follows a well designed pat-
tern. The first step is to remove Tifrn from work in his own
country. Ordered to Moscow, he must choose between obe-
dience and immediate expulsion. He cannot refuse and re-
main in the Communist Party. But if he has high standing,
he cannot be turned right off into a Soviet office boy. Sum-
moned to the offices of the Comintern he is informed that he
has been chosen for an important mission in China, in the
Near East, or in Latin America. This is the beginning of his
decline. Detached from his own party, thrown into a remote
sphere where he can accomplish little, he returns to Moscow
to face a very dour Comintern chief.
"Well, comrade," the chief says, "what results have you to
show for the six months you were in Brazil, and the five
thousand dollars you spent?"
Excuses are of no avail. The familiar argument and ob-
vious fact that the working class of Brazil has not yet
reached a sufficient level of political consciousness to em-
brace Communist teachings, falls on deaf ears. Informed
of all this, his comrades at home, if they have not forgotten
him entirely, see him now in a new light. The Comintern
sent him to Brazil and he didn't deliver.
The next step follows logically. He is now given a job
in one of the thousands of Soviet Bureaus. He becomes a
wage employee of the Soviet government, and his political
career is at an end. From this moment, if he has any back-
bone, his chief ambition is to get out of the Soviet Union
and back to his country and to sever all ties with Soviet
Russia and the Comintern. In this he does not often succeed.
65
One of the most tragic cases of this kind was that of my
friend Stanislaw Hubermann, brother of the world-renowned
violinist. Hubermann, who was known in our circle as Stach
Huber, entered the Polish revolutionary movement during
the World War. Together with Muenzenberg he was one of
the founders of the Young Communist League. He worked
valiantly in the underground Communist Party and soon
became one of its leaders. He served many prison sentences
in Poland and was often severely beaten by the police.
When the Comintern decided to change the central com-
mittee of the Polish Party, Huber was summoned to Mos-
cow. He was soon transferred to a newly created bureau
connected with the railroads. Huber was completely out of
his element in railroad work. He vainly exerted pressure to
be sent back to work in his party in Poland. He was pushed
from one bureau to another, given an opportunity to sample
every aspect of Soviet bureaucracy, but he was not allowed
to go back to his Polish comrades.
He was still in Moscow, working as an obscure secretary
in a Soviet office, when the fifteenth anniversary of the
founding of the Young Communist League was celebrated
in the House of the Soviets. On the platform were the new
dignitaries of the Soviet regime, parading in their splendor.
Stirring speeches were delivered emphasizing the great role
of the Young Communist League in Soviet Russia and in the
world. In the back of the hall was Stach Huber, one of the
founders of the Young Communist League. Wandering about
aimlessly, he met an old comrade who had also long since
lost caste. They were happy to run into each other and the
old friend invited Huber to his apartment. They spent the
better part of the night reminiscing and exchanging anec-
dotes over a bottle. Several days later, Stach Huber was sum-
66
moiled to appear before the Control Commission of the
Comintern.
"Were you at the home of Comrade N last Wednesday
night?"
Huber admitted the "charge." He was at once expelled
from the party which made it impossible for him to get any
job. He was directed to vacate his apartment immediately,
and was left without a roof over his head. He came to live
with me in my apartment.
I was almost certain during those days that Stach Huber
would commit suicide. But Manuilsky, one of the leaders
of the Comintern, came to his rescue. The Control Commis-
sion was persuaded to reverse its decision. Huber was re-
admitted into the Party, with the remark, "strong and final
warning" recorded in his Party dossier. He was given a
job at the railroad depot of Velikie Luld. Huber knew
how precarious his position now was, and he kbored assidu-
ously in the hope that eventually the black mark would be
erased from his party record.
He worked so well that in 1936 he was awarded an air trip
from Velikie Luki to Moscow for the November anniver-
sary of the Bolshevik Revolution. En route the plane crashed
and Stach Huber was killed. Several months later one of his
friends said to me:
"How fortunate Stach was to die in an aeroplane crash!"
And indeed he was fortunate. In the province of Velikie
Luld the local Communist official had rewarded him for his
good work, but in the Ogpu office he was merely an old
Bolshevik who had been expelled from the Party and rein-
stated on parole. When the purge attained its height, the
Ogpu was searching for Stach Huber.
The end was not always so tragic. When Tomann, a leader
of the Austrian Communist Party was appointed educational
67
director of a seaman's home in Leningrad, he arranged to
receive a telegram from Vienna informing him that his
mother was dying. This time it was Moscow that was fooled.
Upon reaching Vienna, Tomann announced his break with
the Comintern.
The coterie of foreign Communists residing in Moscow
chiefly at the Hotel Lux, as permanent representatives of
their respective parties, have always constituted a glaring
anomaly in Soviet life. The Communist Parties do not of
course send their first rank leaders to reside in Moscow.
Men like Browder, Pollitt and Thorez come only when sum-
moned to an important conference or congress. But each
party has its resident consuls in Moscow too, differing from
a regular diplomatic corps in that their salaries are not paid
by those who sent them. Regarded with contempt by the
members of the Bolshevik Bureau, and especially by Stalin
himself, they nevertheless shine or did shine until recently
as social lights in Moscow.
During the famine that accompanied forcible collectiviza-
tion in 1932-33, when the average Soviet employee had to
get along on bread and dried fish, a cooperative was created
for the exclusive use of these foreigners, where they could
purchase, at moderate priced, products that no money could
buy elsewhere. The Hotel Lux became a symbol of social
injustice, and the average Muscovite, if asked who lives in
comfort in Moscow, would invariably reply:
"The diplomatic corps and the foreigners in the Hotel
Lux."
The handful of Russian writers, actors and actresses, who
occasionally mixed socially with the Comintern people were
forced to lick the plates of this foreign aristocracy. The
Russians would come to them and beg for such small con-
68
veniences as razor blades, needles, lipstick, fountain pens
or a pound of coffee.
To the Ogpu the international collection living at the
Hotel Lux at the government's expense was, and is always,
subject to suspicion. This papier-mache world of the "prole-
tarian revolution'* is always buzzing with intrigue, and mu-
tual recriminations, each foreign Communist accusing the
other of insufficient loyalty to Stalin. The Ogpu, through its
planted "guests" in the hotel, hears all these charges and
counter-charges and records them in its voluminous files.
When the great purge began there was a general round-
up and liquidation of foreign Communists living in the Soviet
Union. The Comintern consuls living at the Lux at last re-
ceived important work. They became agents of the Ogpu
and denounced their own countrymen in batches. Being
personally responsible for all foreign Communists then in the
Soviet Union, they could save their own positions and often
their own necks only by delivering their countrymen to the
Ogpu.
Ironically enough it was during these years when the
Comintern became the creature of Stalin and the Ogpu,
that Soviet Russia attained the peak of its prestige in the
democratic countries. The Popular Front heralded by Dim-
itrov's famous Trojan Horse speech at the Seventh Congress
of the Communist International in 1935, ushered in a new
day. Abandoning the unpopular Bolshevik slogans, which
after nearly two decades had failed to take hold in a single
foreign country, Moscow now entered the citadels of capital-
ism as the champion of peace, democracy and anti-Hiderism.
Even while the great purge was terrorizing all of us in every
walk of life, Stalin granted to his subjects "the most demo-
cratic constitution in the world," a constitution which, al-
though it exists oofy on paper, and' there openly guarantees
69
the permanent sovereignty of his new party built on the
Fascist system, is regarded by many foreign liberals as, if not
a great achievement, at least a "significant aspiration/*
As a practical matter the Popular Front was important in
five countries: the United States, Great Britain, France, Spain
and Czechoslovakia. In all Fascist and semi-Fascist countries
the Comintern abdicated without even the pretense of a
fight. The so-called underground Communist Parties of Ger-
many and Italy, as I had good occasion to observe, in my
post as Chief of Military Intelligence in Western Europe,
amounted to nothing. Shot through with Fascist stool pigeons,
the only function they serve is to send men to their death.
Communism has long since become bankrupt in these coun-
tries, and if a new revolutionary wave is to sweep Germany
as a result of Hitler's war, it most certainly will not be under
the leadership of Moscow.
In the stable and progressive democracies of Scandinavia,
the Popular Front's slogans fell flat, just as had revolutionary
slogans of earlier years.
In Great Britain, on the other hand, although Moscow's
new face won few converts among the laboring masses, its
anti-Fascist slogans captured a substantial number of stu-
dents, writers and trade-union leaders. During the Spanish
tragedy and the Munich days, many scions of the British
aristocracy enlisted both in the International Brigade (the
Army of the Comintern in Spain) and in our Intelligence
Service. The Moscow show trials shocked many of these new
recruits. At the height of the Purge one of the members of
the Central Committee of the British Communist Party said
to a colleague of mine:
"Why does Stalin shoot you people? I know how loyally
you serve the Soviet Union, but I am sure that if you return
to Moscow, you too will be shot/'
70
Such moods arose, but they subsided.
The executions continued. The Spanish picture unfolded
in all its totalitarian horror. But Stelfn kept his international
following as the great ally of the democracies -against Hitler.
In France the Front Populaire was so intimately tied up
with the Franco-Soviet alliance that it all but captured the
governmental structure. True, there were those like Leon
Blum who tried to keep the military situation from affecting
internal politics, but to a large extent such efforts failed. Most
of France, from General Gamelin and conservative Deputy
De Kerillis to trade-union leader Jouhaux, were so obsessed
with the idea that France's security was linked with Moscow,
that the Front Populaire became the dominant fact in French
life. On the surface the Comintern operated through its sugar-
coated organizations. Newspapers like Ce Soir, book clubs,
publishing houses, theaters, motion picture companies-
all became instruments of Stalin's "anti-Hitler" front. Behind
the scenes the Ogpu and Soviet Military Intelligence were
working feverishly for a stranglehold on the state institutions
of France.
The country was not entirely blind to the danger. There
were frequent interpellations on the floor of the Chamber of
Deputies in which the charge was hurled that the Soviet
government was too well informed regarding the secrets of
French military aviation. Whatever basis there may have
been for these insinuations, it is at least a fact that we of the
Soviet Intelligence referred to a number of ranking French
officials as "our people."
Moscow's influence over Czechoslovakia was even more
pronounced. Soviet Russia was looked upon by the most re-
sponsible ministers of the Prague government as the vigilant
protector of its independence. Here an element of pan-
slavism entered to make the Kremlin's authority even greater.
71
The Czechs became so enamoured of the notion of their great
Slav brother protecting them against Nazi Germany that
they allowed themselves to be drawn into one of the most
tragic intrigues in modern history. The story of how Moscow
used the Czech government for a purpose of Stalin, has been
told in my introduction.
In the United States the Communist Party as such never
played any serious role, and was always regarded by Moscow
with supreme contempt. For all its long years of activity up
to 1935, the American Communist Party had almost nothing
to show. Organized labor did not respond to its slogans, and
the mass of American people were barely aware of its exist-
ence. Even in those years, however, the party was impor-
tant to us, because it was more closely connected than any
other Communist Party with our Ogpu and Intelligence Serv-
ice. During the mechanization and motorization of the Red
Army, we had members of the American Communist Party
as our agents in aircraft and automobile factories and in
munitions plants.
In Moscow several years ago, I told the Chief of our Mili-
tary Intelligence in the United States that I thought he was
going too far in mobilizing such a large percentage of Ameri-
can Party functionaries for espionage. His reply was typical:
"Why not? They receive good Soviet money. They'll never
make a revolution, so they might as well earn their pay."
With the thousands of recruits enlisted under the banner
of democracy, the Communist Party Ogpu espionage ring in
the United States grew much larger and penetrated pre-
viously untouched territory. By carefully concealing their
identity, Communists found their way into hundreds of key
positions. It became possible for Moscow to influence the
conduct of officials who would not knowingly approach a
Comintern or Ogpu agent with a ten-foot pole.
72
More challenging perhaps than this success in espionage
and pressure politics, is the Comintern's penetration into
labor unions, publishing houses, magazines and newspapers
a maneuver accomplished by simply erasing the Comintern's
label and stamping anti-Hiderism in its place.
The members of the Comintern have always regarded
their world party and its Moscow leadership as the first and
paramount object of loyalty. Whether it was Kiepenberger
as a member of the Military Affairs Committee of the German
Reichstag, Galkcher in the British House of Commons, or
Gabriel Peri, in the Foreign Affairs Committee of the French
Chamber, the only allegiance they recognized as binding
was to the Comintern. When the Comintern became a per-
sonal instrument of Stalin they transferred their allegiance
to him.
The era of the Popular Front came to an end with a re-
sounding crash on August 23, 1939. The curtain came down
on the Popular Front farce at the moment when Soviet Pre-
mier Molotov affixed his signature under that of Nazi Foreign
Minister Von Ribbentrop, in Stalin's beaming presence, to
the Berlin-Moscow pact. There Stalin gave Hitler carte
blanche, and in ten days the world was at war. A Soviet
military mission was dispatched to Berlin to work out the
details of complete collaboration between the two most auto-
cratic, all-embracing tyrannies the world has ever known.
To Stalin the fusion of these two dictatorships is the climax
of all he has striven toward for years. Hopelessly enmeshed
in the contradictory results of his own economic and politi-
cal blunders, he can only hope to remain in power by work-
ing hand in hand with Hitler.
Stalin has always maintained a completely cynical atti-
tude toward the Communist International and its non-Rus-
73
sian functionaries. As far back as 1927 he said, during a
meeting of the Bolshevik Political Bureau:
"Who are these Comintern people? They are nothing but
hirelings on our Soviet payroll. In ninety years they will
never make a revolution anywhere/*
Stalin's favorite name for the Comintern is the *la-
votchka" or gyp joint. But he has been careful to preserve
this gyp joint because it has served him well both for the
purposes of internal politics and in his international maneu-
vers. Next to the Ogpu, it has been his most useful personal
weapon.
Although Stalin dealt a deathblow to the Comintern in
concluding his pact with Hitler, he will seek to preserve in
the democratic countries exclusively skeleton party ma-
chines. These will continue, to the extent of their dwindled
power, to be the creatures of his totalitarian despotism.
The big difference is that since August 23, 1939 the world
knows that those who serve Stalin serve Hitler.
74
III. Staling Hand in Spain
I HE story of Soviet intervention in Spain still remains the
major mystery of the Spanish Civil War. The world knows
that there was Soviet intervention in Spain, and that is about
all it does know. It does not know why Stalin intervened in
Spain, how he conducted his operations there, who were the
undercover men in charge of his campaign, what he thought
to get out of it, nor how the ventuie ended.
I happen to be the sole survivor abroad of the group of
Soviet officials who had a direct hand in organizing Soviet
intervention in Spain, and am the only one now free to ex-
pose this dramatic chapter of current history. As Chief of
the Soviet Military Intelligence in Western Europe, I was
on the inside of every major step taken in the Spanish mat-
ter by the Kremlin. For many years before that I had occu-
pied a post which kept me in intimate contact with Staling
foreign policy, of which this Spanish venture was an or-
ganic part.
Ever since the rise of Hitler in 1933, Stalin's foreign policy
had been an anxious one. He was driven by the fear of isola-
tion. His efforts to come to terms with Hitler were now en-
couraged and now rebuffed. At hopeless moments, when
success here seemed impossible, he would 4ay to revive the
old Czarist pact with France. But here too he had not the
complete success he wanted. His attempts to join hands with
Great Britain were even less successful. In 1935, Anthony
75
Eden and Premier Laval paid their state visits to Moscow.
Foreign Commissar Litvinov went to Washington, secured
American recognition, and then played a star role in Geneva.
He got world-wide publicity, but publicity was all he got.
London would make no definite commitment. The treaty
with France was a feeble reed to lean on.
In this state of things, after the outbreak of the Franco
rebellion, Stalin turned his eyes toward Spain. He made haste
slowly, as he always does. There was a period of watchful
waiting, of furtive exploration. Stalin wanted to be sure first
that there would be no quick and easy Franco victory. Then
he intervened in Spain.
His idea was and this was common knowledge among us
who served him to include Spain in the sphere of the Krem-
lin's influence. Such domination would secure his ties with
Paris and London, and thus strengthen, on the other hand, his
bargaining position with Berlin. Once he was master of the
Spanish government of vital strategic importance to France
and Great Britainhe would find what he was seeking. He
would be a force to be reckoned with, an ally to be coveted.
The world believes that Stalin's actions in Spain were in some
way connected with world revolution. But this is not true.
The problem of world revolution had long before that ceased
to be real to Stalin. It was solely a question of Russia's for-
eign policy.
Three countries participated directly in the Spanish Civil
War: Germany, Italy and the Soviet Union. The participa-
tion of Germany and Italy was open. Both countries officially
acknowledged the action of their expeditionary forces in
Spain, exaggerating their military exploits rather than hiding
them. But Stalin, unlike Mussolini, pkyed it safe in Spain.
Far from boasting of his intervention, he pkyed it down
timidly, and indeed at the beginning concealed it altogether.
76
The Soviet intervention might have been decisive at certain
moments had Stalin taken the risks on the Loyalist side that
Mussolini took on the Franco side. But Stalin risked nothing.
He even made sure before moving that there was enough
gold in the Bank of Spain to more than cover the costs of
his material aid. He took no chances of involving the Soviet
Union in a great war. He launched his intervention under the
slogan: "Stay out of range of the artillery fire!"
This was and remained our guiding slogan throughout the
Spanish intervention.
On July 19, 1936, the day General Franco raised the ban-
ner of revolt, I was at my headquarters in The Hague, Hol-
land. I was living there, with my wife and child, as an Aus-
trian antiquarian. This disguise accounted plausibly for my
residence, for the funds with which I was supplied, and for
my frequent journeys to other parts of Europe.
I had up to then been devoting nearly all my energies to
my secret service network in Nazi Germany. Stalin's efforts
to reach an understanding witih. Hitler were still unsuccess-
ful, and the Kremlin was deeply concerned over the German-
Japanese pact then being negotiated in Berlin. I was follow-
ing the secret negotiations closely, as I have related in
another chapter.
At the first thunder of guns beyond the Pyrenees, I dis-
patched an agent to Hendaye on the French-Spanish border,
and another to Lisbon, to organize a secret information serv-
ice in the Franco territory.
These were merely routine measures. I had received no
instructions from Moscow in regard to Spain, and at that time
there was no contact between my agents and the Madrid
government. As the responsible head of its European Intelli-
gence Service, I was simply securing general infonnation for
relaying to the Kremlin,
77
Our agents in Berlin and Rome, Hamburg and Genoa,
Bremen and Naples, duly reported to us the powerful aid
that Franco was receiving from Italy and Germany. This
information I dispatched to Moscow, where it was received
in silence, I still got no secret instructions regarding Spain.
Publicly also the Soviet government had nothing to say.
The Comintern, of course, made a great deal of noise,
but none of us practical men took that seriously. This organ-
ization, then already nicknamed the "gyp joint," had been
relegated to a quiet suburb of Moscow and from being the
intended torch of international revolution, had become a
mere adjunct of Stalin's foreign policy sometimes useful in
indirect ways, other times a considerable nuisance.
Its one great service had been to launch the international
policy known as the Popular Front. This meant that in
every democratic country the obedient members of the Com-
munist Party should drop their opposition to the ruling pow-
ers and, in the name of "democracy," join forces with other
political parties. The technique was to elect, with the aid of
"fellow travelers" and dupes, governments friendly to the
Soviet Union. This had been of some real help to the Kremlin
in several countries. In France, indeed, the Front Populaire
had elevated the moderate Socialist L6on Blum to power. But
now in the Spanish crisis, with the Comintern shouting for
the Republic and issuing battle cries against Franco, Premier
Blum launched, with the backing of London, the policy of
non-intervention in Spain.
In Spain itself the shouts of the Comintern were still more
futile, for the number of its adherents there was almost in-
finitesimalonly 3,000 men in the Communist Party all told.
Spanish trade unions and all the strong revolutionary group-
ings, syndicalist, anarchist, Party of Marxist Unity, and So-
78
cialist, remained obstinately anti-Communist. The Spanish
Republic, after five years of existence, still refused to recog-
nize the Soviet government and had no diplomatic relations
with Moscow.
Notwithstanding this, the Comintern organized mass meet-
ings and collected funds all over the world for the Spanish
Republic. From the Soviet Union it dispatched as soldiers to
Spain scpres of foreign Communists who, outlawed in their
own countries, had been living as refugees in Russia. Stalin
was glad to get rid of them.
To a few veteran leaders of the Comintern, still inwardly
devoted to the ideal of world revolution, the fighting in Spain
brought new hope. These old revolutionists really thought
the Spanish civil war might once more kindle the world.
But all their enthusiasm produced no munitions, no tanks,
no planes, none of the war supplies for which Madrid was
pleading, and with which the Fascist powers were supplying
Franco. The real function of the Comintern at this time was
to make enough commotion to drown the louder noise made
by the silence of Stalin.
The revelations of German and Italian aid to Franco, and
the desperate appeals of the Spa.ni.sh revolutionary leaders
for help, seemed not to penetrate the Kremlin walls. The
civil war in Spain developed into a huge conflagration and
still Stalin made no move. A constant stream of devastating
reports came in to me at The Hague, and I steadily relayed
them to Moscow. Although the Spanish government in
Madrid was in possession of the $700,000,000 gold reserve of
the Bank of Spain, its efforts to buy arms from Vickers in
England, from Skoda in Czechoslovakia, from Schneider in
France, and from Germany's powerful munition makers, were
frustrated by the non-interventionists. Still I got no word
from my government
79
It was late in August, and the Franco forces were firmly
organized and marching successfully on Madrid, when three
high officials of the Spanish Republic were finally received
in Russia. They came to buy war supplies, and they offered
in exchange huge sums of Spanish gold. Even now, how-
ever, they were not conveyed to Moscow but kept incognito
in a hotel in Odessa. And to conceal the operation, Stalin
issued, on Friday, August 28, 1936, through the Commissar
of Foreign Trade, a decree forbidding "the export, re-export
or transit to Spain of all kinds of arms, munitions, war mate-
rials, airplanes and warships." The decree was published and
broadcast to the world on the following Monday. The fellow
travelers of the Comintern, and the public, roused by them,
already privately dismayed at Stalin's failure to rush to the
support of the Spanish Republic, now understood that he
was joining L6on Blum's policy of non-intervention. JStalin
was in reality sneaking to the support of the Spanish Repub-
lic. While its high officials waited in Odessa, Stalin called an
extraordinary session of the Politbureau, and presented his
plan for cautious intervention in the Spanish Civil War all
this under cover of his proclamation of neutrality.
Stalin argued that the old Spain was gone and that the new
Spain could not stand alone. It must join either the camp of
Italy and Germany, or the camp of their opponents. Stalin
said that neither France nor Great Britain would willingly
allow Spain, which commands the entrance to the Mediter-
ranean, to be controlled by Rome and Berlin. A friendly
Spain was vital to Paris and London. Without public inter-
vention, but by an adroit use of his position as the source of
military supplies, Stalin believed it possible to create in Spain
a regime controlled by him. That done he could command
the respect of France and England, win from them the offer
of a real alliance, and either accept it or, with that as a bar-
80
gaining point, arrive at his underlying steady aim and pur-
pose, a compact with Germany.
That was Stalin's central thought on Spanish intervention.
He was also moved, however, by the need for some answer
to the foreign friends of the Soviet Union who would be
disaffected by the great purge and the shooting of his old
Bolshevik colleagues. The Western world does not realize
how tenuous at that time was Stalin's hold on power,, and
how essential it was to his survival as dictator that he should
be defended in these bloody acts by foreign Communists
and eminent fellow travelers like Romain Holland. It is not
too much to say that their support was essential to him. And
his failure to defend the Spanish Republic, combined with the
shock of the great purge and the treason trials, might have
cost him their support.
These was also that hoard of gold in Spain, $700,000,000
which the government was willing to spend for war mate-
rials. How much of this gold could be transported to Russia
in payment for munitions delivered in Spain, while the Soviet
Union officially adhered to its announced policy of strict non-
intervention, was no doubt an urgent question.
The Politbureau of course adopted Stalin's policy. He
doubly cautioned his commissars that Soviet aid to Spain
must be unofficial and handled covertly, in order to elimi-
nate any possibility of involving his government in war. His
last phrase, passed down by those at that Politbureau meet-
ing as a command to all high officers of the service was:
Poddshe ot artittereiskovo ognial "Stay out of range of the
artillery firel"
Two days later a special courier, who came by plane to
Holland, brought me instructions from Moscow: "Extend
your operations immediately to cover Spanish Civil War.
Mobilize all available agents and facilities for prompt crea-
81
tion of a system to purchase and transport arms to Spain.
A special agent is being dispatched to Paris to aid you in this
work. He will report to you there and work under your
supervision.
I was glad that Stalin had at last decided to move earnestly
in Spain. The Kamenev-Zinoviev trial had created a dreadful
impression in pro-Soviet circles, and the strict neutrality
adopted by Moscow in the Spanish struggle was giving rise
to embarrassing questions even in the friendliest quarters.
At this same time Stalin instructed Yagoda, then chief of
the Ogpu, to set up in Spain a branch of the Soviet secret
police. Little did the omnipotent Yagoda dream that five
days after Stalin honored him with this momentous commis-
sion he would be removed from his post, and a few months
later lodged in one of the Lubianka cells over which he had
presided so long. His career came to an end before one of
his own firing squads on March 14, 1938, after he had "con-
fessed" to a plot to poison his successor, Yezhov, and also his
old friend, Maxim Gorki, the famous writer.
On September fourteenth, obedient to Stalin's order,
Yagoda called an emergency conference at his headquarters,
the Lubianka, in Moscow. Frinovsky, then commander of the
military forces of the Ogpu, later commissar of the navy,
was present. (His career also came to an abrupt end in 1939
when he "disappeared.") Sloutski, chief of the Foreign Di-
vision of the Ogpu, and General Uritsky of the General Staff
of the Red Army were also present.
From Sloutski, whom I met frequently in Paris and else-
where, I learned that at this conference a veteran officer of
his department was detailed to establish the Ogpu in Loyalist
Spain. He was Nikolsky, alias Schwed, alias Lyova, alias
Orlov.
82
This Lubianka conference also placed the Soviet secret
police in charge of Comintern operations in Spain. It de-
cided to "coordinate" the activities of the Spanish Communist
Party with those of the Ogpu.
Another decision of this conference was to have the move-
ment of volunteers to Spain from every country secretly
policed by the Ogpu. There is in the central committee of
every Communist Party in the world one member who holds
a secret commission from the Ogpu and it was through him
that this would be accomplished.
In many countries, including the United States, enlistment
under the Spanish republic seemed a noble international
crusade to rescue democracy and to preserve socialism from
destruction. Young men from all over the world volunteered
to fight in Spain for these ideals. But the republican Spain
that was fighting Franco was by no means united in political
beliefs or policies. It was made up of many factions demo-
crats, anarchists, syndicalists and socialists. Communists were
a very small minority. Stalin's success in seizing control and
using Spain as a weapon with which to determine the rela-
tion of France and England toward the Soviet government,
depended upon his breaking the powerful anti-Communist
opposition in the republican camp. It was therefore neces-
sary to control the movement of these idealistic foreign vol-
unteers, to prevent them from joining up with elements
opposed to Stalin's policies and ambitions.
The major question of organizing the arms shipments to
Spain was solved by the Lubianka conference with a decision
to push the task simultaneously from Russia and from abroad.
The foreign end was assigned to me.
The domestic phase of the undertaking was handled by
Yagoda himself. It presented even greater difficulties than
83
mine, because it was absolutely necessary that no sign appear
of any official government participation in the traffic.
Yagoda called in Captain Oulansky of the Ogpu and com-
missioned him to organize a "private syndicate** of munitions
dealers. Captain Oulansky was an exceptionally skilled man
in secret service work. He had previously been entrusted by
the Ogpu with the delicate task of escorting Anthony Eden
and Premier Laval during their visits to the Soviet Union.
"You will find three Spaniards in Odessa who have been
cooling their heels there for some time," Yagoda said to Cap-
tain Oulansky. "They came to buy arms from us unofficially.
Create a neutral private firm for them to deal with."
Since no one in Soviet Russia can buy so much as a re-
volver from the government and the government is the sole
manufacturer of arms, the idea of a private firm trading in
munitions on Soviet soil would be to Soviet citizens prepos-
terous. But the farce was needed for foreign consumption. In
plain terms, it was Captain Oulansky's job to organize and
operate a ring of arms smugglers, and to do this so cleverly
that no trace could be discovered by the spies of foreign
governments.
"If you succeed," Yagoda told him, "come back with a
hole in your lapel for the Order of the Red Banner."
Captain Oulansky was instructed to trade for cash only
and informed that the Spaniards would provide their own
ships to transport the munitions as fast as they were delivered
to tibe "private syndicate" from the arsenals of the Red Army.
He left for Odessa armed with governmental orders placing
under his control all the authorities in the city, from the local
chief of the secret police to the president of the regional
soviet
General Uritsky represented the Intelligence Service of the
Red Army at the Lubianka conference. It was the function of
84
his department to handle the technical military side of the
enterprise, to determine the quantities and kinds of equip-
ment to be provided from the arsenals, to fix the number
and personnel of the military experts, pilots, artillery and
tank officers to be sent to Spain. In military matters, these
men remained under the orders of the General Staff of the
Red Army; otherwise, they were supervised by the secret
police.
Stalin's intervention in Spain was now launched. I went
into action as if I were at the front. Indeed my assignment
was to active war duty. I recalled an important agent from
London, another from Stockholm, a third from Switzerland,
and arranged to meet them in Paris for a conference with the
special agent assigned to me from Moscow. This agent,
Zimin, was an expert in munitions and a member of the
military section of the Ogpu.
We all met in Paris in perfect secrecy on September
twenty-first. Zimin brought explicit and emphatic instructions
that we must not permit the slightest possibility of the Soviet
government's becoming in any way associated with our traffic
in arms. All cargoes were to be handled "privately" through
business firms created for the purpose.
Our first problem, therefore, was to create a new European
chain of ostensibly independent concerns, in addition to our
existing "business" outposts, for the purpose of importing
and exporting war materials. It was new to us, but it is an
ancient profession in Europe.
Success depended upon our selecting the right men. We
had such men at our disposal. Numbers of them were in the
societies allied with the various Communist Party centers
abroad, such as the Friends of the Soviet Union and the many
"Leagues for Peace and Democracy." Both the Ogpu and
the Military Intelligence of the Red Army looked upon cer-
85
tain members of these societies as war reserves of civilian
auxiliaries of the Soviet defense system. We were then able
to choose among men long tested in unofficial work for the
Soviet Union. A few of course were profiteers or careerists,
but more of them were sincere idealists.
Many were discreet, reliable, having the right contacts and
capable of playing a role without betraying themselves. We
supplied the capital. We furnished the offices. We guaranteed
the profits. The men were not hard to find.
Within ten days we had a chain of brand-new import and
export firms established in Paris, London, Copenhagen, Am-
sterdam, Zurich, Warsaw, Prague, Brussels, and some other
European cities. In every firm an agent of the Ogpu was a
silent partner. He furnished the funds and controlled all
transactions. In case of a mistake, he paid with his life.
While these firms were scouring the markets of Europe
and America for available war supplies, the problem of trans-
portation urgently claimed my attention. Suitable merchant-
men were to be obtained in Scandinavia for a sufficient price.
The difficulty was to secure licenses for such shipments to
Spain* We at first counted on consigning them to France,
and trans-shipping to the Loyalist Spanish ports. But the
French Foreign Office refused to grant clearance papers.
There was but one other way to secure consular papers
from overseas governments, certifying that the arms were
purchased for import into their countries. From certain Latin-
American consulates I was able to secure unlimited numbers
of certificates. Occasionally we succeeded in obtaining them
from Eastern European and Asiatic countries.
With such certificates we would obtain clearance papers
and the ships would proceed, not to South America or China,
but to the ports of Loyalist Spain.
We made large purchases from the Skoda works in
86
Czechoslovakia, from several firms in France, from others
in Poland and Holland. Such is the nature of the munitions
trade that we even bought arms in Nazi Germany. I sent an
agent representing a Dutch firm of ours to Hamburg, where
we had ascertained that quantities of somewhat obsolete
rifles and machine guns were for sale. The director of the
German firm was interested in nothing but the price, the
bank references and the legal papers of consignment.
Not all the material we bought was first class. Arms grow
obsolete very rapidly these days. But we made it our object
to furnish Caballero's government with rifles that would
shoot, and furnish them without deky. The situation in
Madrid was becoming grave.
By the middle of October, shiploads of arms began to
reach republican Spain. The Soviet aid came in two streams.
My organization used foreign vessels exclusively, most of
them of Scandinavian registry. Captain Oulansky's "private
syndicate" in Odessa began by using Spanish boats but
found their number limited. Moscow, held by Stalin's in-
sistence on absolute secrecy lest he become involved in a
war, would not permit the use of ships sailing under Soviet
papers. Stalin was especially obdurate after submarines and
trawlers in the Mediterranean began to attack and seize
freighters bound for the Spanish coast.
Captain Oulansky, however, was resourceful He called
on Mueller, chief of the Ogpu Passport Section, to supply
tiini with counterfeit foreign clearance papers. Mueller's de-
partment, with the inexhaustible resources of the govern-
ment, had developed the art of forgery to unexampled per-
fection.
Some months later in Moscow I was teasing Mueller about
his receiving*the decoration of the Red Star.
"Why, that's an altogether new field of operation-forging
87
shipping papers!" he cried. "You think it was easy? We
worked day and night!"
With these false papers, Soviet boats loaded with muni-
tions would sail from Odessa under new names, flying for-
eign colors, and they would clear the Bosporus, where Ger-
man and Italian counter-espionage agents were keeping a
sharp lookout. When they had entered Loyalist ports and
delivered their cargo, their names would be changed back
to Russian ones and they would return to Odessa under their
own colors.
Madrid was desperately calling for airplanes. Moscow
echoed the call in orders to me. Franco was advancing on
the capital; his Italian and German flying squadrons were
masters of the air. Our aviators and mechanics were arriving
in Madrid, but the republican planes were few and inferior.
I had to find somewhere in Europe a supply of bombing and
pursuit planes that could be bought quickly. No private firm,
naturally, can furnish at a moment's notice any considerable
number of war planes. Only a government can do that.
With the rapid advances in aviation, however, it was rea-
sonable to suppose that a friendly government might consent
to the sale of a part of its equipment, thus being enabled to
modernize its air force. I decided to approach such a gov-
ernment in Eastern Europe. It owned about fifty combat
planes of obsolescent design, made in France.
For this purpose an exceptional agent was obviously re-
quired, but I had the right man. He was a blue blood, the
son of an old aristocratic family, with the best of connections
and unimpeachable bank references. Both he and his wife
were staunch friends of the Soviet Union, and ardent sup-
porters of the Loyalist cause in Spain. He had already done a
few services for us. I knew that I could count on hmi.
I asked him to come to Holland, and outlined the situation
88
to him. The next day he flew to the Eastern European capital.
That night he put through a long-distance call to my agent
in Paris, who in turned called me at The Hague and arranged
for me to await, the following morning., at a certain place
and time, a direct call from him. When this call came
through my aristocrat gave me, in carefully coded language,
the report of a deplorable experience.
He had secured an introduction to the Minister of War.
Presenting to the minister his card, bearing the name of one
of the largest banks in the world, he had gone directly to the
heart of his mission.
"I have come here to buy a quantity of war planes from
your government I would like to know if your Excellency
would consent to sell them. We are in the market for at least
fifty machines, at your Excellency's price.**
The Minister of War rose from his desk. He grew pale. He
looked again at the visitor's card. He examined the letter of
introduction. Then he turned upon my agent and said
quietly: "I request you to leave my office at once."
My agent got up to leave. But he could not accept failure
without making one more effort
"Pardon me, your Excellency,** he said. "Permit me to add
one word. This is all in the open. There is nothing question-
able in my mission. It is a matter of helping the Spanish gov-
ernment. I have come here as a representative of groups in
my country who believe that we should protect the Spanish
republic in the name of humanity. We believe that your
country has a stake in keeping the Fascist powers out of the
Mediterranean in preventing Italy from dominating it.**
"I am the Minister of War; I am not a merchant,** was the
cold reply. "Good day, sir.**
It looks hopeless quite hopeless,** my agent mourned
over the phone.
89
"Give it up as a bad job and clear out, 9 * I told him. "I will
meet you at the airport."
"Not yet/' he said. "I am not ready to give up yet,"
Three days later I received a report that he was returning
by plane to The Hague. When he emerged from the cabin,
I saw that his head was bound in a bandage. He looked ex-
hausted. I took him quickly to my waiting car.
As soon as we were inside, he told me that he had bought
the fifty planes.
"The day after I called you," he said, "the card of a gentle-
man representing the largest bank in the country was brought
to me in my hotel room. I invited him to come up. He made
no reference to my call on the War Minister but merely said
he understood that I wanted to buy war planes. If I was pre-
pared to do business, he suggested that we discuss the matter
at his office."
My agent had bought the fifty government planes for
$20,000 each, subject to inspection. When the question of
the consignee came up, he offered a choice of a Latin-Amer-
ican country or China. The dealer preferred China.
"I assured him on behalf of the Chinese government that
the papers would be in perfect order."
"But how did you get this?" I inquired, indicating the band-
age around his forehead.
"Oh, just a jolly good bump when I climbed into that
bloody plane," he laughed.
Arrangements had to be made immediately to inspect and
appraise the planes. I went to Paris and employed for this
purpose a French aircraft expert, with two engineers as aides.
They flew to the Eastern European capital and returned with
a favorable report. I ordered the planes dismantled and
crated with all possible speed.
Throughout the world there was a cry of anguished fury
90
at the merciless bombing of almost defenseless Madrid. My
organization performed miracles to hasten the transport of
the fifty pursuit planes and bombers. In mid-October a Nor-
wegian boat was loaded with them.
At that point I received strict instructions from Moscow
not to permit the boat to deliver its cargo in Barcelona. Under
no circumstances were those planes to pass through Catalonia,
which had its own government, very much like that of a
sovereign state. This Catalonian government was dominated
by revolutionists of anti-Stalinist persuasion. They were not
trusted by Moscow, although they were then desperately
holding one of the most vital sectors of the Loyalist front
against fierce attacks from Franco's army.
I was ordered to send the planes to Alicante. But that
port was blockaded by Franco's vessels. The master of the
ship made for Alicante, but had to turn back to save his ship
and cargo. He attempted to head for Barcelona, but was pre-
vented by my agent on board. My shipload of aircraft plied
back and forth in the Mediterranean. Franco kept it from
Alicante. Stalin kept it from Barcelona. In the meantime
Loyalist Spain was fighting desperately and was woefully
short of planes. At kst my agent on board directed the ship
to proceed to Marseilles.
This fantastic development was part of Stalin's fierce but
silent battle to gain complete control of the Loyalist govern-
ment, a battle which went on behind the open theater of
war. If Stalin was to make Spain a pawn in his power game,
he must subdue all opposition in the Spanish republic. The
spearhead of that opposition was in Catalonia. Stalin was
determined to support with arms and man power only those
groups in Spain which were ready to accept without reser-
vation his leadership* He was resolved not to let the Cata-
lonians lay hands on our planes, with which they might win
91
a military victory that would increase their prestige and thus
their political weight in the republican ranks.
During these days, while with one hand Stalin was keeping
military aid from Barcelona, with the other he addressed his
first public message to Jose Diaz, leader of the Spanish Com-
munist Party, On October sixteenth, Stalin wired to Diaz:
"The toilers of the Soviet Union only do their duty when
they give all the aid within their power to the revolutionary
masses of Spain." "The Spanish struggle/' Stalin continued,
"is not a private affair of Spaniards. It is the common cause
of all advanced and progressive mankind." This message was,
of course, intended for the Comintern and for Soviet ad-
herents throughout the world.
The Norwegian ship finally slipped through Franco's block-
ade and discharged its planes at Alicante. At the same time,
other war supplies, including tanks and artillery, arrived
from the Soviet Union. All Loyalist Spain saw that tangible
aid was actually coming from Russia. The republicans, So-
cialists, anarchists and syndicalists had only theories and
ideals to offer. The Communists were producing guns and
planes to use against Franco. Soviet prestige soared. The
jubilant Communists made the most of it.
On October twenty-eighth, Caballero, as Minister of War,
issued a proclamation to the Spanish republic. It was a call
to victory, and it said: "At this moment we have at last in
our hands formidable armaments we have tanks and power-
ful aviation."
Caballero, who had opened wide the doors to Stalin's
messengers, did not know the nature of the force that was
coming to the rescue of the Spanish republic. He did not
realize that this aid would cause his own fall.
The movement of war supplies to Spain went hand in hand
with a world-wide movement of man power to Madrid,
oo
Volunteers from the British Isles, the United States, Canada,
Latin America and South Africa, Scandinavia, the Balkans
and all Europe, even from Nazi Germany and Italy, from
Australia and the Philippines, were eager to fight for the
Loyalist cause. The famous International Brigade was being
formed.
Now, if Stalin was to control the Spam that he was begin-
A O
ning to support with arms, it was imperative to organize and
direct this far-flung tide of crusaders, and to weld it into a
Stalinist force. Caballero's popular-front government was a
precarious coalition of antagonistic political parties. The
small, hard, disciplined group of Communists, now com-
manded by the Ogpu, supported Caballero's government but
did not control it. It was the more important for Moscow to
seize control of the International Brigade.
The nucleus of this Brigade was the 500 to 600 foreign
refugee Communists sent from Russia. Not a single Russian
was among them. Later, when the brigade swelled to nearly
15,000 fighters, no Russian was permitted to join its ranks.
An impenetrable wall was deliberately erected between this
force and the units of the Red Army detailed for service in
Spain.
In every foreign country, including the United States, the
recruiting agencies of the International Brigade were the
local Communist Parties and their auxiliaries. Some inde-
pendent groups of Socialists and other radicals attempted to
organize columns. But the overwhelming majority of recruits
were enlisted by Communists and drawn from the spreading
networks of "fellow travelers," who are often entirely un-
aware of the remote control exercised over them by com-
munists.
When a volunteer offered himself he was directed to a
secret enlistment bureau. Here he filled out a questionnaire
93
and was told to await notification. Behind the scenes the
Ogpu investigated his political record; if it seemed ac-
ceptable, he was called back and questioned by an Ogpu
agent, who was rarely a Russian and sometimes not even
officially a member of the Communist Party, but was always
reliable and absolutely devoted to his Communist and Ogpu
chiefs. After this political investigation, which especially in
the Anglo-Saxon countries appeared to be quite casual and
informal, the recruit was directed for physical examination
to an equally reliable physician with solid sympathy for the
Communist cause. Passing this examination satisfactorily, he
was supplied with transportation and instructed to report $t
a given address in Europe.
In Europe we improvised a number of secret control
points where each applicant would be thoroughly reinvesti-
gated by devoted and trustworthy foreign Communists, or
secretaries and agents of Communist-controlled organizations
like the S.R.I. (Secours Rouge Internationale), the Friends
of Republican Spain, or officials of such Spanish administra-
tions as were entirely in the hands of the Communists. As
Luis De Araquistain, former Loyalist Ambassador to France,
conclusively shows, 90 per cent of all important posts in the
Spanish War Department were at a later stage firmly occu-
pied by Stalin's henchmen. The Ogpu's control of those vol-
unteers who were found worthy to sacrifice their lives in what
they believed to be the cause of the republic, was continued
in Spain, where informers were planted among them to weed
out suspected spies, to eliminate men whose political opin-
ions were not strictly orthodox, and to supervise their reading
matter and conversation. Practically all the political com-
missars with the International Brigade, and later even with
the greater part ,of the Republican Army, were stalwart
Communists.
94
All the volunteers* passports were taken up when they ar-
rived in Spain, and very rarely was a passport returned. Even
when a man was discharged, he was told that his passport
had been lost. From the United States alone about 2000
volunteers came over, and genuine American passports are
highly prized at Ogpu headquarters in Moscow. Nearly every
diplomatic pouch from Spain that arrived at the Lubianlca
contained a batch of passports from members of the Interna-
tional Brigade.
Several times while I was in Moscow in the spring of 1937,
I saw this mail in the offices of the Foreign Division of the
Ogpu. One day a batch of about a hundred passports ar-
rived; half of them were American. They had belonged to
dead soldiers. That was a great haul, a cause for celebration.
The passports of the dead, after some weeks of inquiry into
the family histories of their original owners, are easily
adapted to their new bearers, the Ogpu agents.
While this International Brigade the army of the Comin-
ternwas taking shape in the foreground, purely Russian
units of the Red Army were quietly arriving and taking up
their posts behind the Spanish front This Soviet military
personnel in Spain never reached more than 2000 men, and
only pilots and tank officers saw active duty. Most of the
Russians were technicians general staff men, military in-
structors, engineers, specialists in setting up war industries,
experts in chemical warfare, aviation mechanics, radio
operators and gunnery experts. These Red Army men were
segregated from the Spanish civilians as much as possible,
housed apart and never permitted to associate in any way
with Spanish political groups or figures. They were cease-
lessly watched by the Ogpu, both to keep their presence in
Spain a secret and to prevent any political heresy from cor-
rupting the Red Army.
95
This special expeditionary force was under the direct con-
trol of Gen. Ian Berzin, one of the two leading Soviet
figures assigned by Stalin to captain his intervention in Spain.
The other was Arthur Stashevsky, officially the Soviet trade
envoy stationed in Barcelona. They were the real mystery
men of Moscow behind the scenes of the Spanish theater of
war, and while they gathered all the controls of the Spanish
republican government into their hands, their missions re-
mained completely unknown.
General Berzin had served for fifteen years as chief of the
Military Intelligence of the Red Army. A native of Latvia,
he had led, at the age of sixteen, a guerrilla band in the revo-
lutionary struggle against the Czar. He was wounded, cap-
tured, and sentenced to death in 1906. Because of his youth,
however, the Czar's government commuted his sentence to
penal servitude in Siberia. He escaped and was leading the
life of an underground revolutionist when the Czar was
overthrown. Berzin joined the Red Army under Trotsky, and
rose to a powerful position in the high command. Large-
framed, already gray-haired, given to few words, crafty,
Berzin was selected by Stalin to organize and direct the
Loyalist army.
Stalin's chief political commissar in Spain was Arthur
Stashevsky. He was of Polish extraction. Short and stocky,
he looked like a business man, and nominally, he was the
Soviet trade envoy in Barcelona. But Stashevsky, too, had
served in the Red Army. He resigned from the military
service to take up the task of reorganizing the Russian fur
industry at a time when this important industry was pros-
trate. His success was brilliant; he revived the Russian fur
trade in all the world's markets, making incidentally a trip
to the United States. Stalin now assigned him the job of
96
manipulating the political and financial reins of Loyalist
Spain.
While Berzin and Stashevsky were operating backstage,
the International Brigade was holding tie spotlight of the
spectacular Loyalist campaign. To foreign war correspond-
ents on the Spanish front, the real mystery man seemed to
be Emil Kleber, leader of the International Brigade. Millions
of readers will remember Kleber as the most dramatized
figure of the heroic defense of Madrid.
Kleber was presented to the world, in interviews and
sketches, as the strong man of the hour, fated to play a mo-
mentous role in the history of Spain and the world. His
physical appearance lent color to the legends. He was big
in stature, the features of his face were heavy, and his shock
of gray hair belied his forty-one years. Kleber was introduced
to the world as a soldier of fortune, a naturalized Canadian,
a native of Austria, who, as an Austrian war prisoner in
Russia had joined the White Guards in their fight against
the Bolsheviks, only to become converted finally to com-
munism.
This picture was compounded at the Ogpu headquarters
in Moscow, which supplied Kleber with his false Canadian
passport. Kleber pkyed his part tinder Ogpu dictation. His
interviews were outlined for him by the agents of the
Kremlin.
I had known Kleber and his wife and children and brother
for many years. His real name was Stern. He was a native
of Bukovina, then in Austria and now in Rumania. During
the World War, he served as an officer, was taken prisoner
by the Czar's troops, and sent to a camp at Krasnoyarsk,
Siberia. After the Soviet revolution he joined the Bolshevik
Party and the Red Army, and fought throughout the Russian
civil war on the Soviet side. Then he attended the Frunze
97
Military Academy, from which he was graduated in 1924.
For a while we worked together in the Intelligence Depart-
ment of the General Staff. In 1927, Kleber was assigned to
the military section of the Comintern, and acted as an in-
structor in its military schools. He went to China for the
Comintern on confidential missions.
Kleber had never been to Canada and never associated
with the White Guards. This bit of fiction was used to cover
up the fact of his being a staff officer of the Red Army. It
made his role as leader of the International Brigade more
plaiisible. In reality, despite the dramatic part assigned to
him, he was without power in the Soviet machine. In No-
vember, 1936, this Russian general was named supreme
commander of the Spanish government forces in the northern
sector of the Madrid front.
On one of the first days of November I took off from
Marseilles by plane for Barcelona. A waiting car whisked
me to a downtown hotel which served in Barcelona as Soviet
headquarters. No outside guests were permitted to stay there.
Here I met Stashevsky, our trade envoy, and the members of
his staff. Here lived and worked our military intelligence
staff in Catalonia, under the supervision of General Akulov.
I had come to Barcelona to put my agents in Franco's ter-
ritory under the orders of staff officers in charge of the mili-
tary operations which General Berzin was secretly directing.
I thought that the information I was receiving from the
rebel zones would be more useful in Madrid and Barcelona
than in Moscow.
General Akulov had organized our secret intelligence
service in the enemy's camp most efficiently. Our radio
operatives there were working without interruption, and
98
daily transmitted vital information by means of portable
radio sets.
Naturally, my first questions were about the prospect of
military victory. The reply was, in effect: "Things are in a
frightful mess here. Our only comfort is that they are in a
worse mess over there."
General Berzin was working indefatigably to shape an
army out of undisciplined and uncoordinated armed detach-
ments. He was pressing Caballero for conscription.
Berzin had assembled a group of Russian staff officers, and
was making them the backbone of the Loyalist command.
He took a leading part in organizing the defense of Madrid
during the desperate weeks of November and December.
Yet so thoroughly was Berzin masked that even his presence
in Spain, let alone his identity, was known to only half a
dozen of the highest Loyalists.
Berzin insisted on the appointment of a commander-in-
chief . This authority the republican government, supported
by jealous parties and factions, was reluctant to establish.
Berzin found a suitable candidate in Gen. Jos6 Miaja, a good
soldier without political ambitions. Within a few weeks in
November, 1936 he obtained the appointment for Miaja,
who retained supreme command until the end of the Civil
War.
Meanwhile, Arthur Stashevsky was exerting all his efforts
to gather into Soviet hands the control of the finances of the
republic. He liked Spain and the Spaniards. He was en-
tranced with his assignment, feeling that he was living over
again his experiences in the Russian Revolution of twenty
years before.
He discovered in Juan Negrin, Finance Minister in the
Madrid cabinet, a willing collaborator in his financial
schemes. Madrid found it almost impossible to buy arms
99
openly anywhere in the world market. The Spanish republic
had deposited a considerable quantity of the Spanish gold
reserve in Paris banks hoping to import war materials from
France. But an insuperable difficulty developed: the French
banks refused to release the gold because Franco threatened
to file claims against them in the event of his victory. Such
claims would little disturb the distant Kremlin, once the gold
was in its possession. Stashevsky offered to take the Spanish
gold to Soviet Russia, and to supply Madrid with aims and
munitions in exchange. Through Negrin, he made the deal
with Caballero's government.
Somehow a rumor of this deal traveled abroad. Charges
were made in the foreign press that Caballero had mortgaged
part of the national gold reserve for Soviet aid. On December
third, while transport of the gold was being arranged, Mos-
cow officially denied that such a deal had been consummated
just as it has consistently denied the existence of Soviet
intervention in Spain. In our inner circle, Stashevsky was
then jestingly called "the richest man in the world/' because
of his control of the Spanish treasury.
In my conversations with Stashevsky in Barcelona in No-
vember, Stalin's next moves in Spain were already cropping
out Stashevsky made no secret to me of the fact that Juan
Negrin would be the next head of the Madrid government.
At that time, Caballero was universally regarded as the
favorite of the Kremlin, but Stashevsky had already picked
Negrin as his successor.
Caballero was a genuine radical, a revolutionary idealist.
Moreover, he did not favor the work of the Ogpu, which,
under Orlov, was beginning to develop in Spain as in Russia
a sweeping purge of all those dissidents, independents and
anti-Stalinists, whom the party lumps together under the
label of "Trotskyists "
100
Dr. Juan Negrin, on the other hand, had all the makings
of a bureaucratic politician. Though a professor, he was a
man of affairs with the outlook of a businessman. He was just
the type to suit Stalin's needs. Like General Miaja, he would
make a good fagade to show to Paris and London and Geneva.
He would impress the outside world with the "sanity" and
"propriety" of the Spanish republican cause; he would
frighten nobody by revolutionary remarks. He had a Russian
wife, and moreover as a practical man, Doctor Negrin wel-
comed the purging of the ' uncontrollables" and "trouble-
makers" in his country by any hand, even the foreign hand
of Stalin.
Doctor Negrin, of course, saw the only salvation of his
country in close cooperation with the Soviet Union. It had
become obvious that active support could come only from
that source. He was ready to go along with Stalin in -every-
thing, sacrificing all other considerations to secure this aid.
These things were discussed while I was in Barcelona, six
months before the fall of the Caballero government. It took
that long to effect the change. It was accomplished at the
last with the aid of an Ogpu plot in Barcelona. Here the
official Soviet ambassador, Marcel Rosenberg, was making
speeches and keeping in the public eye, but the Kremlin
never considered him important. Silently and effectively,
Stashevsky did the work of Stalin.
Sloutski, chief of the Foreign Division of the Ogpu, had
been ordered from Moscow to inspect the secret police which
was modeled on that of Russia. He arrived a day or two after
my departure. The Ogpu was then blossoming out all over
Loyalist territory, but concentrating on Catalonia, where the
independent groups were strongest and where also the real
Trotskyists had their party headquarters.
"They have good material over there," Sloutski told me,
101
when he returned to Paris some weeks later, "but they lack
experience. We cannot allow Spain to become a free camp-
ing ground for all the anti-Soviet elements that have been
flocking there from all over the world. After all, it is our
Spain now, part of the Soviet front. We must make it solid
for us. Who knows how many spies there are among those
volunteers? And as for the anarchists and Trotskyists, even
though they are anti-Fascist soldiers, they are our enemies.
They are counter-revolutionists, and we have to root them
out."
The Ogpu had done a brilliant bit of work. Already in
December, 1936, the terror was sweeping Madrid, Barcelona
and Valencia. The Ogpu had its own special prisons. Its units
carried out assassinations and kidnapings. It filled hidden
dungeons and made flying raids. It functioned, of course,
independently of the Loyalist government. The Ministry of
Justice had no authority over the Ogpu, which was an empire
within an empire. It was a power before which even some
of the highest officers in the Caballero government trembled.
The Soviet Union seemed to have a grip on Loyalist Spain,
as if it were already a Soviet possession.
On December sixteenth, Largo Caballero issued his procla-
mation of defiance to Franco: "Madrid will not fall! Now the
war will begin, because now we have the necessary war
materials."
Next day in Moscow, Stalin's official mouthpiece, the news-
paper Pravda, openly proclaimed that the purge in Catalonia,
already begun, "will be conducted with the same energy with
which it was conducted in the Soviet Union."
The heroic and desperate defense of Madrid was reaching
its climax. Franco's air squadrons had been wrecking the
capital, his troops were almost in the suburbs. But the Loy-
alists now had bombers and pilots, tanks and artillery. Our
102
military aid came just in time to save Madrid. General Berzin
and his staff silently guided the fighting that General Miaja
publicly commanded, and Kleber, the Comintern general,
dramatized before the world.
The splendid feats of the International Brigade, and the
material help received from the Soviet Union, so promoted
the growth of the Communist Party of Spain that by January,
1937, its membership was more than 200,000. 'The saving
of Madrid enormously enhanced Soviet prestige.
At the same time it marked the end of the first stage of
Stalin's intervention in the civil war. The business of StaTinfe-
ing Spain now began in grim earnest. The Ogpu was in
charge. The Comintern was relegated to the rear. On Feb-
ruary 4, 1937, General Kleber was removed from the com-
mand of the International Brigade. It was announced that
this Comintern general was to be transferred to Malaga to
organize the Loyalist defense. He was never heard of again.
Some weeks later, while in Moscow, I learned that Kleber's
disappearance was connected with the purge in the Red
Army, and the numerous arrests of staff officers. Many of his
close comrades were being executed as conspirators by
Stalin's firing squads. I ran into Kleber's brother, who had
been recalled from abroad in April. Several days kter he,
too, was arrested by the Ogpu.
The vanishing of the general of the Comintern in the great
purge simply meant that he was one of those who were no
longer useful to Stalin, and that he knew too much. Stalin
decided that the Comintern had done its job in Spain. Berzin
and Stashevsky now had a firm grip on the government
The vanishing of General Kleber evoked no comment from
those who had sung his praises all over the world. His manu-
factured glory died with him. General Lukacz was perhaps
more favored by the gods. He was a Hungarian Communist
103
writer, his real name Mata Zalka, and lie perished on the
Spanish front.
The successful defense of Madrid with Soviet arms gave
the Ogpu new opportunities to extend its powers. Thousands
were arrested, including many foreign volunteers who had
come to fight Franco. Any criticism of methods, any unflat-
tering opinion of the Stalin dictatorship in Russia, any asso-
ciation with men of heretical political beliefs, became treason.
The Ogpu employed all the methods familiar in Moscow of
extorting confessions and of summary executions.
I do not know the number of anti-Stalinists executed in
Loyalist Spain. I could describe scores of individual cases,
but I shall confine myself to one probable victim who may
still be alive. The few facts which I shall relate may help his
family to save him. A young Englishman, a radio engineer
named Friend, had a brother in Leningrad, married to a Rus-
sian girl. He was an enthusiastic anti-Fascist, and Soviet
Russia was the land of his dreams. He succeeded, after long
efforts, in gaining admission to the Soviet Union, and took
up his residence there.
When Soviet intervention began, he was dispatched to
Spain as a radio technician. Early in 1937, a report arrived
at the Moscow headquarters of the Ogpu to the effect that
Friend was showing "Trotskyist sympathies/' I knew the boy,
and there is no question in my mind that he was whole-
heartedly devoted to the Loyalist cause and to the Soviet
Union. True, he had associated with Socialists and other
radicals, which was only natural for a young Englishman
unaware of the invisible Chinese Wall segregating the Soviet
personnel from the Spaniards.
Later I asked one of the Ogpu officials in Moscow about
him, and was answered evasively. On further inquiry I
learned that Friend had been brought home as a prisoner to
104
Odessa. I was told of the trick by which he had been taken.
The Ogpu in Spain had lured hi onto a Soviet vessel, pre-
tending that he was needed to repair the ship's radio trans-
mitter. Friend had no suspicion that the Ogpu was after him.
Once on board, he was seized. On April twelfth, he was put
in the dungeons of the Ogpu in Moscow. To this day, his
brother in Leningrad and his family in England do not know
what happened to him. Nor have I been able to learn
whether he was executed as a "spy** or lives now in a remote
concentration camp.
There were countless such disappearances. Some men
were kidnaped and taken to Soviet Russia. Others were
assassinated in Spain. One of the most celebrated cases is
that of Andres Nin, the leader of the revolutionary party of
Marxist Unity ( POUM ) . Nin had once been a Trotskyist, and
years before one of the leaders of the Comintern. With a
group of his associates, Nin vanished from the prison where
they had been confined by the Ogpu. Their bodies were
found only after a commission of British members of Parlia-
wfDt had come to Spain to investigate their disappearance.
Another outstanding case is that of young Smillie, son of the
famous British Labor leader, Robert Smillie, murdered in an
Ogpu prison in Spain. Still another is that of Mark Rein, son
of the migr6 Russian Socialist leader, Raphael Abramo-
vitch (see Chapter IV).
The work of the Ogpu on Spanish soil created a rift in the
anti-Fascist ranks of the republic. It began to dawn upon
Caballero and his associates that they had not known what
they were doing when they joined hands with the Com-
munist Party in the united front. Premier Caballero had no
stomach for the Soviet terror, which was decimating his own
party and striking down his political allies. The autonomous
government of Catalonia which was resisting the Ogpu
105
purge, tooth and nail, had the blessings of Caballero. An in-
ternal crisis was ripening in Spain.
From the inside in Moscow, where the internal affairs of
Spain were being decided, I watched the crisis develop and
reach its climax.
In March, 1937, 1 read a confidential report from General
Berzin to the Commissar of War, Voroshilov. It was also read
by Yezhov, Yagoda's successor as chief of the Ogpu (also
since 'liquidated"). Such reports were, of course, intended
for Stalin himself, although addressed to the immediate su-
perior of the writer.
After giving an optimistic estimate of the military situa-
tion, and commending Generalissimo Miaja, Berzin reported
resentment and protests against the Ogpu in high Spanish
circles. He stated that our Ogpu agents were compromising
the Soviet authority in Spain by their unwarranted inter-
ference and espionage in government quarters. He concluded
with a demand that Orlov be recalled from Spain at once.
"Berzin is absolutely right/' was Sloutskf s comment to me,
after I had read the report. Sloutski, chief of the Foreign
Division of the Ogpu, went on to say that our men were
behaving in Spain as if they were in a colony, treating even
Spanish leaders as colonists handle natives. When I asked
him if anything would be done about Orlov, Sloutski said it
was up to Yezhov.
Yezhov, grand marshal of the great purge then under way,
himself looked upon Spain as a Russian province. Moreover,
Berzin's associates in the Red Army were already being seized
all over the Soviet Union, and Berzin's own life was no safer
than any. With so many of his comrades in the nets of the
Ogpu, any report from him would be viewed with suspicion
at the Kremlin.
In April, Stashevsky arrived in Moscow to report to Stalin
106
personally on the Spanish situation. Though a rockribbed
Stalinist, a rigidly orthodox party man, Stashevsky also felt
that the conduct of tibe Ogpu in the Loyalist areas was an
error. Like General Berzin lie opposed the high-handed
colonial methods used by Russians on Spanish soil.
Stashevsky had no use for dissenters or ^rotskyists* in
Russia, and approved the Ogpu method of dealing with them,
but he thought that the Ogpu should respect the regular
Spanish political parties. Cautiously he intimated that Stalin
might perhaps change the Spanish policy of the Ogpu. The
"Big Boss" pretended to agree with him, and Stashevsky left
the Kremlin quite elated.
Later he had a conference with Marshal Tukhachevsky,
in the course of which he called attention to the disgraceful
behavior of the Soviet officials in Spain. This conference
caused quite a lot of talk in the inner circle, partly because of
Tukhachevsky's already shaken position. The Marshal was
fully alive to the need of curbing those who behaved in
Spain as though it were a conquered country, but he was
already without the authority to discipline them.
Stashevsky and I had several talks. He was awaiting the
early fall of Caballero and the rise of Negrin, the man whom
he had groomed for the premiership.
"Big fights are ahead of us in Spain,** he remarked more
than, once.
This was plain to those of us who understood Stalin's
policy. Stalin had consolidated his successes in the plan to
make Spam a dependency of the Kremlin, and was already
for ano&er push forward. The Comintern was fading out of
the picture altogether. Berzin now held the reins of the Span-
ish army in his hands. Stashevsky had transferred most of
the gold reserve from the Bank of Spain to Moscow. The
Ogpu machine was going full steam ahead. The whole enter-
107
prise had proceeded in accordance with Stalin's instructions:
"Stay out of the range of the artillery fire!" We had avoided
the risks of an international war, and yet Stalin's goal seemed
within grasp.
The one big obstacle in the way was Catalonia. The Cata-
lonians were anti-Stalinist, and tihey were one of the main
props of the Caballero government. To seize full control,
Stalin had still to bring Catalonia under his rule and oust
Caballero.
This was emphasized to me in a report by one of the
leaders of the Russian anarchist group in Paris, who was a
secret agent of the Ogpu. He had been despatched to Bar-
celona, where as a prominent anarchist he enjoyed the con-
fidence of the anarcho-syndicalists in the local government.
His mission was to act as an agent provocateur, to incite the
Catalonians to rash acts that would justify calling in the
army as if to suppress a revolt behind the front
His report covered at least thirty pages. Like all our secret
reports, it was conveyed in tiny rolls of photographic film. A
special department at the Moscow headquarters is equipped
with the finest American photographic apparatus for handling
these films. Each page of the report was an enlarged print.
The agent gave a detailed report of his conferences with
the various party leaders whose confidence he shared, and of
the measures he had taken to inspire them to acts which
would give the Ogpu an excuse for destroying them. He was
sure that there would soon be an outbreak in Barcelona.
Another report I read came from Jos Diaz, the leader
of the Spanish Communist Party, and was addressed to
Dimitrov, the president of the Comintern. Dimitrov sent it
immediately to the headquarters of the Ogpu, since he had
long since learned who his master was. Diaz berated Cabal-
lero as a dreamer and a phrase monger who would never
108
become a trusted ally of the Stalinists. He praised Negrin.
He described the work the Communists were doing among
Socialists and anarcho-syndicalists to sap their strength from
within.
These reports made it dear that the Ogpu was plotting
to crush the "uncontrollable" elements in Barcelona and seize
control for Stalin.
On May second, Sloutsld telephoned me at the Hotel
Savoy, and asked me to call on an important Spanish Com-
munist named Garcia. He was the chief of the secret service
of the Loyalist government, which now had its capital at
Valencia. He had been sent to Russia to attend the May Day
celebration. Because of preoccupation with the purge, a tele-
gram announcing his arrival had been neglected. No one
had met him, and he was all alone at the New Moscow Hotel.
Sloutski asked me to repair the oversight as best I could.
I went with a comrade to visit Garcia, and found a neat
and vigorous man in his early thirties. He told me that his
good friend, Orlov, chief of the Ogpu in Spain, had kindly
arranged this little vacation for him in the Soviet capital.
"I was happy to come," he said, **but no one greeted me,
and I could not get a pass to enter the Red Square on May
Day. All I was able to see of the parade were glimpses of it
across the river from my window here."
We extended apologies to Comrade Garcia and took him
to dinner at the Savoy. He remarked that the Soviet workers
in the streets were obviously much worse off than the Span-
ish workers, even during civil war. He had observed that
supplies were scarce, and asked me why the Soviet govern-
ment was not successful in raising the standard of living of
the masses.
When I saw Sloutski I asked him: "What's die idea of
bringing that Spaniard over here?"
109
"Orlov wants him out of the way," Sloutski said. "We have
to keep him amused here until the end of May."
Having read the reports, I did not need to ask what Orlov
expected to do in May.
The news from Barcelona burst sensationally upon the
world. The headlines screamed: Anarchist Revolt in Bar-
celona! The correspondents reported an anti-Stalinist con-
spiracy in the capital of Catalonia, a fight for the Telephone
Exchange, street riots, barricades, executions. To this day, the
Barcelona May Days appear in the history of our times as a
fratricidal war among the anti-Fascists while Franco was
attacking them. According to the official statements, the
Catalonian revolutionists treacherously attempted to seize
power at a moment when every energy was needed to resist
Fascism. Another version of the Barcelona tragedy, given to
the press and echoed throughout the world, is that it was a
rebellion "by some uncontrollable elements who managed to
get into the extreme wing of the anarchist movement, in
order to provoke disturbances in favor of the enemies of the
republic."
The fact is that in Catalonia the great majority of the
workers were fiercely anti-Stalinist. Stalin knew that a show-
down was inevitable, but he also knew that the opposition
forces were badly divided and could be crushed by swift
bold action. The Ogpu fanned the flames and provoked syn-
dicalists, anarchists and Socialists against one another. After
five days of bloodshed, in which five hundred persons were
killed and more than a thousand wounded, Catalonia was
made the issue on which the Caballero government must
stand or fall. The Spanish Communists, led by Diaz, de-
manded the suppression of all anti-Stalinist parties and trade
unions in Catalonia; the placing of newspapers, radio stations
and meeting halls under Ogpu control, and the immediate
110
and complete extinction of all anti-Stalinist movements
throughout Loyalist territory. Largo Caballero would not
yield to these demands, and he was forced to resign on May
fifteenth. Dr. Juan Negrin became the premier of the new
government, as Stashevsky had long ago decided. His gov-
ernment was hailed as the Government of Victory. Negrin
remained premier until the collapse of the Loyalist defense
in March, 1939.
Garcia, on hearing the news from Barcelona, came running
to me in a state of high excitement. He had been to the Span-
ish Embassy. He wanted to return to Spain at once. He could
not understand why he could not get away. But Sloutski
would not let him go; Orlov in Barcelona did not want Garcia
around. True, he was an important Communist, but he might
make trouble. In Barcelona the Ogpu was taking prisoners
en masse. Sloutski offered Garcia a trip to the Caucasus and
the Crimea, insisting that the Soviet government wanted him
to see everything. But Garcia wanted to go home. Of course
he did not go.
In the Spanish Embassy, Garcia made the acquaintance
of four other Spaniards who also wanted to go home. These
four had been provided with two spacious rooms at the
Hotel Metropole. They had been escorted to every museum
in Moscow, to every sight in and around the capital. They
had been to the Crimea, to the Caucasus, to Leningrad, even
to the Dnieprostroy Dam. For five months they had been
seeing sights in the Soviet Union.
Daily they went to the Spanish Embassy for news from
home. Daily they tried to get their passports bach From
talking with them, I suspected that they knew they were
prisoners. Their government could not help them; Stalin
ruled their government.
I asked Sloutski who they were.
Ill
"Those four?" he said. 'They are cashiers from the Bank
of Spain. They came over with the gold shipment. They spent
three months counting it, day and night, and then checking
the figures. Now they want to go home!"
When I asked Sloutski how it would end, he said:
"They'll be lucky to get out of here when the war ends.
For the present they will have to remain in our hands."
A few days before Sloutski told me the story of the cashiers
of the Bank of Spain, I had noticed in the Moscow press a
list of high Ogpu officials who had received the Order of the
Red Banner. Among them were several familiar names. It
occurred to me to ask Sloutski what distinguished service had
brought them this coveted decoration. He said that the
honored men had been the leaders of a special squad of
about thirty trusted officers who had been sent to Odessa in
December to work as longshoremen.
An enormous quantity of gold had arrived at that time from
Spain. Stalin, would entrust only the highest officials of his
secret police with the job of unloading the treasure, fearing
that word of it might get out. He made Yezhov personally
pick the men for the task. The operation had been surrounded
with such extraordinary secrecy that this was the first I
myself had heard of it.
One of my associates, who had gone on this unusual expe-
dition, described to me the scene in Odessa. The entire
vicinity of the pier was cleared and surrounded by cordons
of special troops. Across this cleared and empty space from
dock to railroad track, the highest Ogpu officials carried the
boxes of gold on their backs. For days and days they carried
this burden of gold, loading it on freight cars, which were
then taken to Moscow under armed convoys.
He attempted to give me an estimate of the amount of
gold they had unloaded in Odessa. We were walking across
112
the huge Red Square. He pointed to the several open acres
surrounding us, and said: "If all the boxes of gold that we
piled up in the Odessa yards were laid side by side here in
the Red Square, they would cover it from end to end." That
was his way of picturing the size of the haul.
The treasure secured by Stalin from Spain certainly ran
into hundreds of millions of dollars, and may have reached
half a billion.
Shortly after the Caballero government fell, I was sitting
one day in Sloutskf s office when the telephone rang. It was
a call from the Special Section. They wanted to know if Miss
Stashevsky had left the Soviet Union.
Sloutski, who was a friend of Stashevsky and his family,
,was troubled. On another telephone he called the Passport
Division. When he put down the receiver he sighed with
relief. Miss Stashevsky had crossed the frontier. He gave this
information to the Special Section.
We both knew that the call meant no good to Stashevsky.
He had then returned to his post in Barcelona. His wife,
Regina, was in Paris, working in the Soviet Pavilion at the
exposition. Stashevsky had made arrangements for their
daughter of nineteen to join her mother and work with her
there. The girl reached Paris, but a month later, in June, she
was instructed to take back to Moscow certain exhibits from
the Soviet Pavilion. Without suspecting anything, she re-
turned to the Soviet Union.
Ltthe meantime, her father had been recalled from Spain.
In July, 1937, 1 was back in Paris. I kept telephoning Madame
Stashevsky to find out when her husband would arrive there.
One day she told me that he and General Bemn had come
through, but had stopped only between trains, proceeding to
Moscow in great haste. She could not disguise her anxiety.
In June, Stalin had wiped out nearly the entire high com-
113
mand of the Red Army, with Marshal Tukhachevsky at the
head.
I saw Madame Stashevsky repeatedly. She heard nothing
from her daughter or her husband. She began to telephone
to their apartment in Moscow, knowing that if they were
not there, a friend would be living in the apartment. For
several days and nights she kept the long-distance operators
ringing her number. The report was always the same: "No
answer. 9 *
She could not understand what was happening, and kept
on trying. Finally the connection was made. A housemaid
answered. Stashevsky had not arrived. No one in the apart-
ment even knew that he was in Moscow. Nor was there any
information as to the girl, who had been lured as a hostage
a month earlier.
Two weeks passed without news. Early in August, Madame
Stashevsky received a brief note from her husband, asking
her to wind up everything and return to Moscow. She knew,
after her telephone calls, that the letter came from prison.
She packed and went back to the Soviet Union to all she
had left in the world.
General Berzin also vanished. The execution of the leading
commanders of the Red Army portended ill for Berzin.
Like Stashevsky, he had been intimately associated with the
purged commissars and generals since the beginning of he
Soviet revolution, nearly twenty years before. Against that
fact his achievements in Spain and his strict and obedient
loyalty would count for nothing. To this day he belongs to
that great number of vanished Soviet leaders whose fate can
only be surmised and may never become known.
At this time, in the summer of 1937, just when Stalin ap-
peared to have achieved his goal in faraway Spain, Japan
struck at China. The menace to the Soviet Union in the Far
114
East became alarming. Japanese forces took Peiping, bom-
barded Shanghai, advanced on Nanking, The government
of Chiang Kai-shek made peace with Moscow and solicited
Soviet aid.
Simultaneously the Fascist powers became more and more
aggressive in the West. Italy and Germany intervened openly
on Franco's side. The military situation of the Spanish repub-
lic grew increasingly difficult If Stalin were to capitalize on
his achievement in Spain, he would have to give her now the
full measure of help needed to defeat Franco and his allies.
But more than ever, he was loath to risk a major war. His
slogan "Stay out of range of the artillery firer became more
insistent after Japan's invasion of China and threat to the
Siberian frontier.
The role of Stalin in Spain was drawing to an ignominious
close. Stalin had intervened there in the hope that he might,
with the stepping-stone of a Spanish dependency, build a
road from Moscow to London and Paris, and so ultimately to
Germany. His maneuver was unsuccessful. He lacked real
audacity. He played his game boldly against the independ-
ence of the Spanish people, but feebly against Franco. He
succeeded in murderous intrigue, but failed in waging war.
Leon Blum and Anthony Eden resigned. Paris and London
adopted a more friendly attitude toward Franco. Gradually,
during 1938, Stalin withdrew his hand from Spain. All he got
out of the adventure was a pile of Spanish gold.
115
IV. When Stalin Counterfeited Dollars
IKE first Five-Year Plan extended from 1928 to 1932.
Those were the years of our heavy purchases of foreign ma-
chinery and materials for the gigantic drive to industrialize
Russia. One of the major consequences of that drive was an
acute shortage of foreign exchange in Moscow.
In the course of those same years the globe was circled
by a trail of spurious $100 Federal Reserve banknotes of the
United States. They first trickled and later flowed into the
United States Treasury from Shanghai and San Francisco,
from Houston and New York, from Montreal and Havana,
from Warsaw, Geneva, Bucharest, Berlin, Vienna, Sofia, and
Belgrade.
It was Stalin who thus put into circulation throughout the
world about ten million dollars in bogus American currency.
The fact is interesting, not only intrinsically, but because
it reveals the primitiveness of this Georgian's mind his ig-
norance of modern world conditions, and the readiness with
which in a crisis he turns to the expedients of common crime.
Stalin first rose to prominence in the Bolshevik party as an
organizer of "expropriations" that is, bank robberies de-
signed to replenish the party treasury. Boris Souvarine in his
recent Life of Stalin describes such an expropriation at
Tiflis, organized and directed, although not participated in,
by Stalin, in which eight bombs were exploded in the street,
fifty people injured, three killed, and 341,000 roubles that
116
is $170,000-added to tie Party's funds. It is not surprising
that in another crisis in which he felt the need of ready cash,
Stalin should conceive the all too simple idea of taking it out
of the United States Treasury.
The need, however, was extreme. The fund of foreign ex-
change in the Soviet Treasury was woefully inadequate for
the first-line industrial departments. The foreign divisions of
the Ogpu and the Soviet Military Intelligence were in a
critical budgetary condition at a time when they, too, were
expanding their services. The quest for "valuta" gold or its
equivalents was a main preoccupation of the Soviet govern-
ment. A special Valuta Bureau was organized by the Ogpu,
and every conceivable method, from trickery to terror, em-
ployed to pump foreign currency and other treasures out of
the population. It reached its climax in the so-called Dollar
Inquisition, the systematic extortion from Soviet citizens of
relief remittances sent to them by relatives in America. Many
of the victims were imprisoned and tortured by the Ogpu
until ransom money arrived from abroad.
All this became known to a fairly wide public, but Stalin
kept his still more primitive grab for easy money a pretty
deep secret. To this day, the source of those forged $100
notes remains an unsolved mystery even for American and
European secret services. Suspicions were indeed entertained,
and even voiced, that there was a counterfeiting ring in
Soviet Russia. But no one in authority dared to suggest that
the Soviet government was the criminal.
The facts are that Stalin himself established and directed
this counterfeiting ring, that its presses were in Moscow in
the deepest recesses of the Ogpu, and that the distributors
of the bogus currency were Soviet agents.
The notes were printed on special stock imported from
117
Although he was not captured by the police, his life was as
good as ruined in the cause.
My own first intimation of Stalin's counterfeiting opera-
tions came on January 23, 1930, while I was on a train from
Vienna to Rome. Getting off at a way station to buy a paper,
I noticed in the Berliner Tageblatt, a sensational headline
displayed over a story running across the top of the entire
page, which read:
"Who Counterfeits the Dollars?"
The story began as follows:
The news of the circulation of counterfeit $100 banknotes
formed the topic of conversation today in banking circles
and on the stock exchange. So far neither the counterfeiters
nor their plant has been discovered. But recent investigations
have established that Franz Fischer, of the Neue Winter-
f eldstrasse 3, who undertook to pass the counterfeit notes in
Berlin, had returned from Russia in March, 1929.
The name of Franz Fischer leaped at me from the page.
"What the devil!" I said to myself. This must be our affair ."
The rest of the account, in that paper and others I bought
along the way, confirmed my worst fears. It appeared that
a group of American promoters, dealing in Canadian mining
shares, had acquired in the fall of 1929 the private banking
house of Sass & Martini, a firm founded in 1846. The pro-
moters soon stepped out and turned the ownership over to
a certain Herr Simons, and he in turn sold it to none other
than Paul Roth, formerly Communist member of the Berlin
Municipal Council. I knew Roth to be a confidential em-
ployee of the Soviet Embassy in Germany.
Franz Fischer was described as the chief customer of the
119
posited with the Deutsche Bank, which shipped a quantify
to the National City Bank of New York. As the notes were
of an old-fashioned large-size type, then no longer issued in
America, they aroused some interest upon their arrival at
the Federal Reserve Bank in New York. A microscopic inves-
tigation by experts discovered them to be counterfeits of a
pattern already familiar to the Treasury. On December 23,
New York cabled Berlin that the notes were spurious. The
cable warned the German banks and authorities that the
counterfeit bills were the best imitation ever discovered.
The Berlin police, under Commissioner von Liebermann,
promptly swooped down on Sass & Martini, and soon exposed
its artificial character. All its transactions in bogus bills, how-
ever, led to Franz Fischer, and Fischer had vanished.
Fischer's connections with Moscow were known. It was no
secret to the authorities that he had been employed during
1925-1927 in the automobile section of the Soviet Trade
Mission in Berlin. He had at one time made a hobby of
automobile racing. The police concluded that he served only
as a "fence" in the affair. A high German official declared:
"The gang must have a big printing shop somewhere, with
a large staff of experts, or they could never produce such
perfect results in quantity. They have turned out so much
that they must have relations with a big paper mill, prob-
ably through bribery of employees. Their profits must be
enormous/*
The theory of the Berlin police, according to the papers,
was that the counterfeiting ring was operating either in
Poland or the Balkans. I wondered how long it would be
before they turned their eyes to Moscow. I feared grave
consequences to all of us* I bought all sorts of papers and
studied every item on the counterfeiting case. My primary
121
interest was in protecting our military intelligence network.
The fact that some of our agents were entangled in this crazy
enterprise appalled me.
Besides that, I was disturbed for Franz Fischer. Although
his superior, "Alfred" occupied the important post of chief of
our military intelligence operations in the United States, I
had no confidence at all in his judgment.
As I read about the police raid on Sass & Martini, to me
the main aspect of the crime seemed to be its sheer stupidity.
The United States government, I thought, would surely trace
this back to its source in Moscow. And the more I pondered,
the more fantastic it appeared that in this modern age of in-
ternational exchange a great state should engage in such she-
nanigan. I felt that I ought to do or say something calculated
to put a stop to it.
Fortunately, I was to meet in Rome Stalin's personal and
confidential emissary, General "Ter" Tairov, then abroad on
a tour of inspection of our secret services. A native of the
Caucasus, like Stalin, Tairov was later the Soviet Envoy in
Outer Mongolia which is to say that he was Stalin's viceroy
there.*
Tairov first appeared on my horizon in 1928 in Paris, where
he came ostensibly as the representative of the Soviet Oil
Syndicate. In reality his mission was to look into things all
and sundry for Stalin. It was in this meeting with Tairov that
I first got acquainted with the highly personal character of
Stalin's dictatorship.
As an officer of Military Intelligence, I had been trained
to serve my superiors, and as a member of the party, to obey
the central committee. Tairov went at things in a novel way.
AWbough working in a department remote from mine, he
*Iii a recent New York Times dispatch his Tarnft was among officers
listed as imffcr arrest.
122
would suggest in an offhand manner that he was in a position
to offer me any help I might require.
"If you need anything, aid from the Embassy or from
anywhere else, just let me know, and 111 drop a line to the
Boss." His conversation was punctuated with such personal
references. "I got this straight from Stalin," or "Stalin told me
that." I was inclined to take the man for a braggart and in-
quired of my chief in Moscow, General Berzin, whether he
was reliable. Berzin sent word that Tairov's claims to inti-
macy with Stalin were not inventions. He had been one of the
group that served under Stalin during the Civil War. Later, in
1932, he had been planted by Stalin in the War Department
to open the mail of War Commissar Voroshilov and other
generals.
I now met Tairov at the Tivoli in Rome, and I jumped
right into the question of the counterfeit dollars*
"That is some messy affair over in Berlin," I said. *Tm very
much afraid of its developing into an international scandal
that will wreck our intelligence organization and compro-
mise the Soviet government. 7 *
"NitchevoP said Tairov, with a shrug of the shoulders,
dismissing the whole thing with that inimitable Russian word
which means, literally, "Nothing!" or "Aw, it doesn't matter!"
"Don't be surprised if you all pay with your heads for it,"
I said. "This won't blow over. Whoever started this will get
all of us into hot water.**
"Don't you worry about it," Tairov reassured me, "The
Boss is in on it. You dont' think the boys in the Fourth Depart-
ment would go in for this kind of thing without the word
from StalinF
I was taken aback for a minute. It is true that General
Berzin would never have ventured into such an enterprise
123
without the authorization of Stalin, I returned to the argu-
ment, however.
"Aside from political considerations/' I said, "the enter-
prise is financially preposterous. Just stop and consider. How
much false currency can one exchange in the world markets?
Then estimate the cost of the plant, and the expense of
getting the money into circulation. Exchange in modern times
is largely a matter of bank credit. Cash doesn't go far. Who-
ever conceived the idea is, in my opinion, a barbarian."
**WelI, that's just why we bought a bank in Berlin," Tairov
said.
"And what did you get out of it? You bought the bank
with good money. And how much currency could the bank
have floated even if it had survived? Don't our people in
Moscow understand the kind of a world we live in? Didn't
they estimate the costs and possible profits, and also weigh
the hazards, in advance? And what are they going to do
now? Here we've built up an intelligence network, at great
cost and danger, and this infantile scheme is going to
wreck it!"
Tairov admitted that he did not know what to do about
the Sass & Martini affair, but he still tried to defend the
counterfeiting plan on grounds of the acute shortage of
valuta in connection with the Five-Year Plan.
I pointed out the difficulties we secret service agents had,
owing to the inefficiency of our financial bureaucrats in
exchanging real money sent to us from Moscow. At times
the courier would bring a whole bundle of $500 bank notes,
at other times, ten thousand dollars in one-dollar bills. Occa-
sionally these notes would carry the stamp of the Soviet
State Bank. The risk of exposure in exchanging this genuine
currency was bad enough. And now, Moscow proposed to
furnish us with counterfeit money! It was as good as a death
124
sentence to all our work* Tairov was shaken by my argu-
ments, and gave ground.
"Perhaps you're right," he conceded, "as far as Europe is
concerned. But you must understand, this business was
organized primarily with an eye on China. Over there we're
floating millions of these dollars, and we need them there.**
This stumped me, for I knew nothing about conditions in
China, and we dropped the matter until our next meeting,
which took pkce at Ostia, the new seaport near Rome. There
I again, and more successfully, tried to convince Trim that we
should end the whole business. The Sass & Martini case was
then beginning to re-echo from every corner of the globe.
The Bankers' Association of Berlin had issued a public
warning against spurious United States bank notes of $100
denomination bearing an oval portrait of Benjamin Franklin.
It described several minute discrepancies in the counterfeit
money to facilitate its detection.
The Berlin police announced that "these ($100) bills are
so cleverly forged that no foreign bank has ever detected
them," and broadcast its belief that "millions of dollars of
this false money are in circulation in America and Europe. 9 *
On January 23, a bulletin from Geneva announced: "Amer-
ican Treasury Officials have warned the Federal Police De-
partment at Berne that $100 false notes are circulating in
Switzerland. These notes are very clever forgeries."
The next day word came from Berlin: "About $40,000 in
forged $100 bills have been discovered to date. A reward for
the capture of Fischer has been offered by the police."
On January 26, the Associated Press carried a dispatch
from Havana, Cuba:
Police revealed the existence of an international counter-
feiting ring in Havana, said to have circulated in the last
125
week between $75,000 and $100,000 in bogus United States
Federal Reserve $100 bills of the New York bank.
A survey of the American banks here showed all held a
number of these bills. The Havana branch of the National
City Bank has fourteen, and has refused to accept approxi-
mately $16,000 more. All banks have installed special tellers
to scrutinize large denomination currency. The Casino Na-
tional, an expensive gambling place, is said to have received
many of the fraudulent notes,
On January 29, tibe well-known German attorney. Dr.
Alphonse Sack (who some years later appeared for the de-
fense in the famous Reichstag Fire Trial) declared in a
Berlin courtroom, his readiness to prove that the forged
$100 notes bad been made in the Soviet State Printing
Establishment at Moscow. Dr. Sack alleged, according to
the New York Times of January 30, that "during the recent
trouble with China, $2,500,000 in counterfeit pound and
dollar notes from the same source, was circulated in China
by Soviet agents."
On February 6, news came from Warsaw of the arrest of
a Communist leader found in possession of American cur-
rency. Ten days later from the same city: "Large quantities
of forged United States $100 notes were found, upon analy-
sis, in a bank in Lwow (Lemberg),* and these notes were
found to be similar to those discovered in the German banks.
At about the same time the Berlin police made public a
report of the discovery in Antwerp, Belgium, of a counter-
feiting ring, flooding Europe with fictitious American $100
and $500 banknotes, and of the arrest of three men, a Ru-
manian, a Hungarian, and a Czech.
The Federal Reserve Bank of New York issued a circular
on February 22, 1930, calling attention to a number of minute
discrepancies in the fake bills, among them the fact that, the
126
black spacing between the 1 and the first of the 100 in the
corner numerals on the face of the note was slightly wider
than in the genuine.
On March 3, large quantities of this counterfeit currency
were encountered in Mexico City. Here, too, the workman-
ship was pronounced very skillful.
On March 7, seven smugglers of the false bills were seized
at Teschen, on the Polish-Czech frontier.
While these echoes were resounding through the world,
Tairov had been in communication with Moscow, and he
finally received orders to assign me to liquidate the affair.
I had in the meantime returned to Vienna, where I met
Alexandrovsky, then head of our Military Intelligence in
Austria. I found Alexandrovsky in a state of nerves over the
whole thing. He was particularly incensed at Alfred, who
had shipped Fischer to Vienna, and now expected Alex-
androvsky to provide the fugitive with a hide-out and the
necessary papers for clandestine passage from Austria to the
Soviet Union. Circulars carrying the picture and description
of Franz Fischer were by this time posted throughout West-
ern Europe.
*1 told Tairov when he was here that I didn't want to have
anything to do with the case,** Alexandrovsky complained
bitterly. "It's that imbecile Alfred who is responsible for the
whole mess. Let him dean it up."
"What did Tairov say? 3 * I asked.
THe told me the Boss was behind it," replied Alexandrov-
sky, which meant, of course, that he had no choice but to
obey instructions.
He supplied Fischer with passports, enabling him to go by
way of Rumania and Turkey to Odessa, and thence to Mos-
cow. I saw Fischer in Vienna just before his departure.
About six feet tall, slender but strongly built, always smartly
127
dressed, Fischer was well known for his dashing appearance.
He now wore a false mustache, and dressed carelessly. Be-
sides that, he was effectively disguised by his disheartened
mood a sorry figure indeed.
"I am a finished man/' he said to me.
He knew that once he got to Soviet Russia, he would
never be allowed to leave. He also knew that Stalin could
not afford to let him survive if he remained abroad. I was
deeply moved by his fate. After all, he had done the job in
his line of duty, acting under orders of the Soviet Govern-
ment
I met Alfred in March at the Cafe Kuensfler, in Vienna,
and opened our conversation in no flattering terms.
"You blockhead!" I said. "You have lived in the United
States and Western Europe for years, and learned absolutely
nothing."
He tried to defend himself.
"But you don't understand,'* he said. "This is real money.
It isn't like ordinary counterfeit currency. It's the real stuff.
I got the same paper they use in the United States. The only
difference is that it's printed on our presses instead of in
Washington."
More than once in our conversation Alfred referred to
"Nick," an American apparently of Latvian origin, who had
been his main aide in circulating the false money in the
United States.
He was full of their success and it took some time to make
Tiim realize the gravity of the situation. The collapse of the
Sass & Martini venture, I explained, had put a different com-
plexion on the problem. Point by point I analyzed for him
the dangerous position into which he had maneuvered us.
He sat there like a man hearing a death sentence, and finally
asked imploringly:
128
"What can I do? 9
I told him that all the bills had to be called in, and his
agents instructed to lay off, and that he himself would have
to go back to Moscow. I was not sure that Alfred would obey
my orders, and I therefore arranged for Tairov to meet us
together, and confirm my full authority in the matter,
It was from Alfred that I learned some of the details of
the counterfeiting scheme. Although it was carried out in
Moscow under Stalin's supervision, he claimed to have orig-
inated the idea. It was he, at any rate, who secured in the
United States a shipment of the special paper used in print-
ing money.
Alfred, whose last name was Tilden, belonged to the
Latvian circle in our department, of which General Ian
Berzin was the head. Alfred was tall, blue-eyed, lanky, of
strong but homely features. I had known him and his wife
Maria for several years. Maria was statuesque, was known
as a crack shot, and was considered by everybody in Moscow
the brains of the family.
In the spring of 1928, Alfred had come to Paris to detach
one of our best agents, Lydia Stahl, and transfer her to
America. I had tried hard to keep Alfred from taking Lydia
with him. A striking and clever woman, then in her thirties,
once the wife of a Czarist officer and later married to Baron
Stahl, a Baltic nobleman, Lydia had joined our secret service
while a refugee in Finland in 1921. She was one of the best
we had.
Alfred won his point, and took Lydia with him to the
United States. She remained about three years, but when
the Gordon Switz espionage case broke in Paris at the end
of 1932, Lydia was arrested there, tried, and given a five-
year prison sentence. Alfred's wife Maria, then stationed in
Finland as our military intelligence agent, was also caught,
129
and is now serving a ten-year sentence as a Soviet spy in a
Finnish prison.
Despite all his ineptness, Alfred himself never got into
trouble with the police. However, the collapse of the counter-
feiting enterprise was a setback to his career. The fact that he
had employed well-known Communists, like Franz Fischer
and Paul Roth, was one of the gravest aspects of his failure,
as it was bound to compromise the Communist parties of
Western Europe.
It took me several weeks to liquidate the affair and have
the outstanding counterfeit currency shipped back to Mos-
cow. In May, 1930, Alfred too, went back home, and Fischer
had by that time arrived safely in Soviet Russia. By mid-
June the storm seemed to have blown over, although $100
notes continued to appear now and then in the Balkans.
About June 20, I returned to Moscow to report to General
Berzin*
Tairov was also in Moscow, and was present at our con-
ference. General Berzin expressed in an embrace his gratitude
to me for jumping into the breach caused by the collapse of
the Sass & Martini Bank. In the course of our conversation,
I offered some frank criticisms of the whole enterprise.
"Counterfeiting is no business for a powerful state to go
into,** I said. "It puts us on a par with some small under-
ground sect without resources/*
Berzin explained again that the pj^nrhad been worked
out with a view to China, where large-scale operations were
possible, and admitted that it was not suitable for the West
I argued that it was ridiculous anywhere.
"Didn't Napoleon print British banknotes? 9 * Berzin coun-
tered. I recognized in that the voice of Stalin himself.
"The comparison won't stand up,** I said. "Modern fiscal
conditions are wholly different A few million dollars* worth
130
of currency can accomplish nothing substantial today except
to damage the prestige of the state that prints them/*
I went away feeling that the counterfeiting venture had
been killed for good, and that the bank notes on hand would
be destroyed, I was mistaken, as subsequent events in New
York and Chicago proved.
Alfred was later transferred to Minsk, near the Polish bor-
der, where he was put in charge of all the motorized forces of
the White Russian Military District Franz Fischer assumed
a new name as soon as he arrived in the Soviet Union. Al-
though a veteran Communist in Germany, he was not ad-
mitted into the Russian Communist Party a severe handicap.
He was assigned after a while to the Ogpu Construction
Division, which shipped him off as a foreman to Kolyma,
in Northeastern Siberia much nearer the North Pole and
Alaska than the nearest Russian railroad. Some of us sent
Franz parcels of warm clothing, for a time, but he never
acknowledged our communications.
In the kte fall of 1931, General Berzin suddenly dispatched
me to Vienna to act once more as a trouble-shooter in a mess.
Here, once more,. I came on the trail of the counterfeiting
enterprise. I was introduced to an impressive American cou-
ple, then stopping at the Hotel Regina, with whom I passed
many sociable hours in Vienna. They were Nick Dozenberg
and his attractive young wife. This was the same Nick who
had worked with Affifed in the United States. Originally from
Boston, he had been one of the founders of the Communist
Party in the United States. In 1927, after the arrival of Alfred,
Dozenberg "went underground," ie., he became inactive in
the public Communist movement and began to operate
secretly as one of our agents.
Tall, heavily built, with a massive head, and well dressed,
Nick Dozenberg looked the part of a very successful Amer-
131
ican businessman. He was operating for us now in Rumania,
where he maintained the American-Rumanian Export Film
Company. He had come on to us in Vienna to try to secure
funds for a trip to America to purchase an expensive film-
ing machine. But the valuta situation in Moscow was now
more critical than ever. So acute was the shortage of foreign
currency that even our pivotal men were handicapped by
budgetary limitations. Moreover, Dozenberg was accustomed
to a much higher standard of living than we, Soviet citizens.
Two years had then passed since the Sass & Martini ven-
ture. The counterfeit banknotes had ceased appearing. The
press had forgotten them. Franz Fischer was on the Arctic
seashore, and his pictures in European railway stations and
post offices were gathering dust I had good reason to think
that both the American and European police had dropped
their quest for the source of those bogus banknotes. Moscow,
I thought, had come out unscathed from a foolish and fan-
tastic venture.
Early in 1932 Nick Dozenberg and his wife left for Berlin,
and from there went on to the United States. Toward the
beginning of April, a new warning was suddenly sounded
from Geneva to all European banks to be on the lookout for
the same old $100 notes. On April 29, the Berlin Boersen-
zeitung reported that counterfeit $100 bills had appeared
once more in Vienna and Budapest. I attributed no special
importance to this, thinking that some former "fence" of
Alfred's had retained a few of the bills, and waited until he
thought he could exchange them safely. I did not then con-
nect Dozenberg's return to the United States with the re-
appearance of the counterfeit money. I learned a little later,
however, that Dozenberg's stay in the United States during
1932 produced an American sequel to Stalin's counterfeiting
venture. The news burst like a bombshell in New York and
TOO
Chicago in January, 1933, and its reverberations were Beard
in Moscow, where I happened to be at the time, and caused
some uneasiness in the Kremlin. The following events took
place in the United States in consequence of Dozenberg's
expedition.
On Tuesday afternoon, January 3, 1933, at the Newark
Airport, the United States Secret Service arrested, just as he
alighted from a plane from Montreal, a certain "Count" von
Buelow. Upon investigation, this man was identified as one
Hans Dechow, who had a police record in Chicago. He was
charged with being an agent of a counterfeiting ring in
Canada and Mexico.
On January 4, the Federal agents made another arrest in
New York, reported by the New York Times as follows:
Agents of United States Secret Service arrested last night
Dr. Valentine Gregory Burtan., young physician of 133 East
58th Street, on a charge of counterfeiting. His arrest came
within 24 hours after that of "Count" von Buelow. The arrest
followed disclosure from Chicago that agents of the ring had
passed $25,500 in a Loop Bank of that city. Dr. Burtan, ac-
cording to the police, returned from Montreal yesterday by
train. Dr. Burtan is a heart specialist connected with the
Midtown Hospital. He is 34 years old and a Russian by
birth.
The United States authorities, in arresting the two men,
came face to face with what they found to be one of the
most baffling cases in the history of counterfeiting. Dechow
made a full confession to the Federal agents, and the case
against him was suspended from the docket in view of his
testimony for the government. Dechow's confession was that
he had been meddling in the munitions business, particu-
larly in the chemical warfare equipment, and had met Dr.
Burtan in New York in the summer of 1932. Dechow had
133
connections with the Chicago underworld. In November,
1932, Dr. Burtan told him that he had $100,000 in $100 bills
which had been given to him by a patient, a member of
Arnold Rothstein's gang, and that he did not wish to have
them exchanged in New York. Dechow undertook to effect
the exchange in Chicago. He went there with a sample of
the money and offered the business to some Chicago pals.
The Chicago racketeers, eight of whom were involved in
the case, had the fake bills examined by various bank tellers
who pronounced them authentic. Dr. Burtan then arrived on
the scene, and an agreement was consummated under the
terms of which thirty per cent of the receipts was to go to
the underworld group passing the money. The sum of
$100,000 was turned over to the gangsters for exchange.
This was just before Christmas, and the business of ex-
changing the bills got off to a good start. The Continental
Illinois National Bank and Trust Company, the Northern
Trust Company, the Harris Trust and Savings Bank, ex-
changed the bills and forwarded several parcels of them to
the Federal Reserve Bank of Chicago. That was on De-
cember 23, 1932. Again the arrival of several packages of
$100 notes of an old issue aroused suspicion. Mr. Thomas J.
Callaghan, of the United States Secret Service, was called
in to examine the banknotes. He declared them ^counterf eit,
and identified them as similar to those found in Berlin in
1930, and at various other points since 1928.
Afl the Chicago banks were warned, and just before
Christmas a man was arrested at the First National Bank of
Chicago while trying to change one hundred $100 notes for
ten $1000 notes. This arrest led the police to the underworld
syndicate, whose members were outraged to discover that
they had been swindled. They had been sure that the money
was genuine. They relinquished the $40,000 of bogus money
134
still in their possession, offered to cooperate to the limit with
the Federal authorities, and according to a report in the
New York Times, "promised to take Burtan for a ride/*
Dechow tried to convince his underworld friends that lie
too had been taken in by the New York physician. He
returned to New York to dear up the misunderstanding
with Dr. Burtan, confident that he could redeem himself
with his Chicago cronies. But Dr. Burtan changed his atti-
tude when Dechow told him of the developments in Chicago.
He advised Dechow to get away to Europe at once. But
Dechow did not like that at all. He insisted that the Chicago
crowd wanted good money for the bogus currency. At a
corner of 90th Street and Central Park West, after leaving
Dr. Burtan, Dechow was accosted by a man who told him
that if he did not leave for Europe at once, he would be
taken for a ride. The stranger was about five feet eight inches
tall, and in his late thirties. After this experience, Dechow
compromised, and agreed to meet Dr. Burtan in Canada.
On January 1, Dechow arrived in Montreal, registered at
the Mount Royal Hotel, and there met Dr. Burtan. To
Dechow it was a most unsatisfactory conference. Indeed, he
now found himself menaced from three sides. The Chicago
racketeers wanted their losses made good. The Federal
agents were on the trail of aH those involved in the case.
And in addition, the stranger who had accosted him in New
York now appeared in Montreal, and warned Dechow to
take passage for Europe at once. Dechow did not know that
the mysterious stranger deployed against hfm by Dr. Burtan
was an agent of the Russian Ogpu. But he knew that some-
thing was the matter. He promised to take the next boat for
Europe. Instead he decided to throw himself upon the mercy
of the Federal authorities, and took the nest plane for Newark
135
where he was arrested. He then led tihe United States agents
to Dr. Burtan's office.
The investigation which followed established that Dr.
Burtan had been prominently identified with the Communist
Parly. On February 24, 1933, this account of the matter
appeared in the New York Times:
FLOOD OF FAKE BILLS IS TRACED TO RUSSIA
The origin of $100,000 in counterfeit $100 notes, many
of which were successfully passed last month in Chicago, has
been traced by Federal agents to Soviet Russia, it was dis-
closed yesterday at the Federal Building.
The notes, which have turned up as far away as China,
have been pronounced by experts of the Treasury Depart-
ment to be the most genuine-appearing counterfeits ever
uncovered. They are said to have been made six years ago.
The government, it was disclosed, is investigating the re-
port that Dr. V. Gregory Burtan, New York physician, who
was arrested on January 4 as the American principal in the
alleged international counterfeiting plot, is, or was, an agent
of the Soviet government.
From this point on, the investigation seems to have run
into a blank wall. Throughout the examination and the sub-
sequent trial, Dr. Burtan guarded his secret well. He did
not betray Nick Dozenberg. He did not reveal his status in
the Soviet Military Intelligence. He kept his accomplices in
the high councils of the American Communist Party out of
the case. The Federal agents, however, traced some of Dr.
Burtan's aliases. They found that in Mexico and elsewhere
he had at various times passed as Bourstin, Kuhn, George
Smith, E. Bail, Frank Brill, and Edward Kean.
Shortly after Dr. Burtan's arrest, Nick Dozenberg returned
from the United States to Soviet Russia. It was toward the
end of February, 1933, that he made his appearance in Mos-
136
cow. About this time, too, Alfred suddenly showed up in
Moscow, and complained to me about the difficulties lie had
in providing food for his American pal. Nick Dozenberg was
now being given the treatment that Franz Fischer had re-
ceived three years earlier. Instead of getting accommodations
at one of our leading hotels and the privileged ration card
usually granted to our foreign agents, Nick had a trying time
finding any quarters at all. And he had to stand in line for
food.
Nick was held in Moscow pending the arrival of Valentine
Markin from the United States with a report on the possible
consequences of the Burtan case. Markin, who was inter-
ested in his own career, exploited the case in order to get
himself put at the head of all Soviet secret agencies in the
United States. Armed with full information as to the mess
created by Nick Dozenberg and Dr. Burtan at a time when
Moscow was courting United States recognition, Markin
arrived back home ready to wage war against General Berzin
and all his lieutenants in the Military Intelligence. He went
over the heads of his superiors and presented the matter
directly to Premier Molotov.
In his report on the American situation, Markin attacked
Berzin's management of our activities in the United States.
This was an unheard-of act on the part of a young Com-
munist, and his interview with Molotov caused a lot of talk
in the inner circles. But Markin was successful. He won the
battle. He got authority to transfer our military intelligence
organization in America to the espionage machine of the
Ogpu, to put it under Yagoda.
On May 4, 1934, Dr. Burtan was convicted by a Federal
jury in Chicago of possessing and passing counterfeit money.
The principal witness against him was Dechow. No evidence
was produced at die trial connecting Dr. Burtan with Mos-
187
cow. No mention was made of Nick Dozenberg. No refer-
ence to Alfred Tilden is to be found in the court record.
Although the prosecuting attorneys expressed their belief
that Dr. Burtan had been acting for Moscow, they offered
no proof of it. Stalin came out of his counterfeiting venture
with colors flying,
Dr. Burtan proved a staunch Communist. He knew how not
to talk. He was given a sentence of fifteen years, and a fine of
$5,000. He still keeps his secret
From Alfred I learned that the Soviet government allo-
cated a substantial fund for the defense of Dr. Burtan, and
for other expenses in connection with his case. As for Nick
Dozenberg, he soon disappeared from my horizon, but I
heard later that he had been swept away in the great purge.
I ran into Franz Fischer in Moscow in 1935, and barely
recognized him. After four years at his remote post in Siberia,
he had been permitted a trip to the capital to consult a
physician and buy drugs and other needed goods. He had
tinned native in the polar region, and married an exiled girl
there who bore him a child. His personality had undergone
a profound and almost ghastly change.
"Why didn't you look me up?" I asked him.
He mumbled an incoherent answer. I tried to pick up the
threads of our past association. His memory seemed to have
evaporated. All the fire had gone out of him. His uncouth
and listless figure hardly resembled the spruce and zealous
rebel of a few years before. The disguise he adopted in Vienna
seemed to have grown into him. I never saw him again,
A year later I learned of the death of his aged mother, the
heroic German revolutionist.
138
V. The Ospu
I MADE my acquaintance with the Soviet Secret Police as
a "suspect" in January 1926. I was then Chief for Central
Europe of the Third Section of the Soviet Military Intelli-
gence. The Third Section compiles material gathered by
Intelligence agents throughout the world and publishes secret
reports and special bulletins for about twenty ranldng leaders
of the Soviet Union.
I was called in one morning by Nikonov, head of the
Third Section, who told me I was wanted immediately at
the Special Section of the Moscow district Ogpu.
"Go through the entrance at Number 14 Djerzhinski
Street," he said. "Here is your pass."
He handed me a green card which the Ogpu had sent
down. When I asked him what it was about, he replied:
TFranldy, I don't know. But when they r&N you, you've got
to get down there at once."
A few minutes later I was face to face with an Ogpu
investigator* He coldly asked me to sit down, seated himself
at his desk and began fingering over a large pile of papers.
After about ten minutes of these silent preliminaries, he
looked up and asked:
"When did you serve last as officer-in-charge at the Third
Section?"
"Six days ago," I replied.
*1 suppose you can tefl me what's happened to the Third
139
Section's missing seal!" he exclaimed, with as much dramatic
emphasis as he could muster.
"How does that concern me?" I asked. 'The officer who
relieved me would not have signed in unless I handed him
the seal.**
In the Third Section, which employed forty to fifty people,
the practice was for the dozen or so heads of departments to
take twenty-four hour turns at guard duty. During those
twenty-four hours, which we called dejourstvo, we were
responsible for every letter, document, scrap of paper, secret
telephone call. We were also responsible for every individual
entering and leaving the offices of the Third Section. Every
permit issued during my dejourstvo had to bear my signa-
ture and the seal of the Third Section. This important seal
was missing.
The Ogpu investigator was forced to admit that, accord-
ing to our record book, I had surrendered the seal together
with the other badges of authority to my successor. He wasn't
satisfied to let it go at that, however, and began to question
me along general lines.
"How long have you been in the Party, Comrade Krivit-
sky?" he asked.
I didn't like the tone he was taking and had no intention
of giving him free rein.
"You have no authority to ask me such questions," I said.
"You know what position I occupy. I have no right to submit
to further interrogation until I have consulted my chief,
Comrade Berzin. With your permission, 111 phone him at
once."
I called General Berzin, the Chief of our Military Intelli-
gence, explained the situation, and asked him whether I was
to submit to general cross-examination.
140 V
"Not a word until you liear from me," Berzin replied. Til
call you back in about fifteen or twenty minutes."
The Ogpu investigator waited impatiently, pacing up and
down in his office. Twenty minutes later Berzin called back.
"Reply only to questions dealing with the matter in
hand/* he instructed me.
I handed the receiver to my investigator and Berzin re-
peated his instruction.
"Very well/* the investigator said bitterly. "You may go/*
I returned to my office. In less than a half hour later a
bespectacled, scholarly-looking young man who worked in
our Near East division came in to see me. He was not a
member of the Party, and had been assigned to our section
only because he knew Persian.
"You know, Krivitsky,** he said with obvious fright, Tve
been summoned to the Ogpu.**
"Why?*' I asked him. "You don't perform guard duty, do
you?**
"Of course not,** he replied. "I wouldn't be trusted with it
I*m not a member of the Party.**
The scholarly young man went to keep his appointment
with the Ogpu, and never returned.
Several days later, the missing seal was "found. 9 * I am
certain that it had been stolen by the Ogpu in an attempt to
frame the Intelligence Service and convince the Politbureau
that the Ogpu ought to extend its spying operations into our
department The Intelligence Service jealously guarded its
independence, and was one of the last instruments of the
Soviet apparatus to fall into the hands of the Secret Police-
approximately ten years after that provocative attempt in
January 1926.
It was a specialty of the Ogpu to manufacture incidents
of this kind. By convincing first the Bolshevik dictatorship
141
and then Stalin personally, that their survival depended upon
its eternal vigilance, the Ogpu extended its sovereignty
until it became a state within the state. One of its most cruel
features is that, having started an "investigation" of this
kind, for purposes having nothing to do with the detection
of crime, it is compelled for the sake of the record to find a
victim. That undoubtedly explains the fate of our Persian
scholar.
In a country in which the supreme ruler regards every
expression of dissenting opinion as a direct threat, it is but
natural that the Secret Police very nearly becomes master
of the master himself.
The story of the Ogpu goes back to December 1917, one
month after the Bolshevik Revolution, when Lenin sent a
memorandum to D jerzhinski, the veteran Polish revolutionist,
containing the draft of a decree to combat "counter-revolu-
tion, speculation, and sabotage/' This memorandum signal-
ized the creation of an Extraordinary Commission with
summary powers to combat the enemies of the Bolshevik
government The Extraordinary Commission became known
by the combination of its Russian initials as the Cheka. It
developed into an instrument of terror and mass execution
in the summer of 1918 following the attempt on Lenin's life
and the assassination of the Bolshevik leader, Uritsky.
The first chief of the Cheka, Felix Djerzhinski, was a
ruthless yet utterly incorruptible revolutionist. He sent count-
less numbers to their death during the civil war, in the burn-
ing conviction that there was no other way to safeguard the
Soviet regime against its "class enemies." Notwithstanding all
the horrors associated with the name Cheka during the first
years of the Bolshevik Revolution, neither Djerzhinski him-
self nor the majority of his trusted assistants were motivated
by anything except fanatical zeal to serve as the sword of the
142
Revolution. Feared by the people, the Secret Police were not
then feared by those who worked loyally for the Soviet State.
As the Soviet State became progressively more totalitarian,
as the Bolshevik Party itself became the victim of what it
had created in 1917, the Secret Police gained greater and
greater power, terror became an end in itself, and fearless
revolutionists were slowly replaced by hardened, dissolute
and demoralized executioners.
In 1923 the name of tibe Secret Police was changed from
Cheka to Ogpu, from the Russian initials of "United Govern-
mental Political Administration." The change in name was
intended to get rid of unpleasant associations, but the new
name soon inspired a far more dreadful terror than the old.
The Ogpu remained in the same home the Cheka had occu-
pied, a building called the Lubianka, which had housed an
insurance company before the revolution. The original green
structure facing the Lubianka Square was about five stories
high. But beginning in 1930 additions were made, including
three new stories of yellow brick, and a luxurious new eleven-
story building with a black marble base.
The main approach to tibe Lubianka is stifl through the
old building, at the entrance to which there is a large bas-
relief of Karl Marx. There are other entrances from the side
streets, and virtually all the buildings in the immediate neigh-
borhood belong to the Ogpu and house its people.
Standing on an elevation, the group of old and new Ogpu
buildings on Lubianka Square are one of the most prominent
and beautiful features of the city. Through the main entrance
from the Square pass only the highest officials of the Ogpu.
Ordinary citizens must obtain passes in the Ogpu's Bureau
of Permits on the street called KouznetsM Most, facing the
Commissariat of Foreign Affairs. Long lines of relatives,
143
wives, and friends begging for permission to visit prisoners,
to send letters or packages of food and clothing, always crowd
the Bureau of Permits. From the character of these waiting
lines one may read at a glance the Soviet policy of the
period. In the first years of Bolshevik rule they were filled
with the wives of officers and merchants. Later the relatives
of arrested engineers, professors and technicians predomi-
nated. In 1937, I saw long queues composed of the next of
kin of our own Soviet people, the wives and relatives of my
friends, comrades and colleagues.
In the long dark corridors of the Lubianka guards are
stationed at every twenty paces. Permits are verified at least
three times before an outsider is permitted to enter any office
of the Ogpu.
In what had been the courtyard of the old building, the
Cheka erected a special prison for important political pris-
oners. Most of them are kept in solitary confinement, and
the prison itself is now called the "Isolator." The cell win-
dows are so obstructed, not only by iron bars but by a slatted
iron blind, that they permit only a small ray of light to
enter. The prisoner is cut off entirely from any view of the
courtyard or the sky.
When an Ogpu investigating prosecutor wishes to cross-
examine a prisoner in his office, he calls up the commandant
of the prison, who sends the man under guard across the
courtyard, up a narrow dark stairway, and into the office
building. There is an elevator to take prisoners to the upper
stories.
In the autumn of 1935 I saw one of the most notable of
the Lubianka prisoners, Lenin's close colleague and collabo-
rator, the first president of the Communist International
and one time boss of the Leningrad Party and Soviet. Once
he had been stout Now, as he shuffled through the corridor
144
clad in white and blue pyjamas, lie was haggard and wasted.
That was the last I saw of the man who had been Gregory
Zinoviev. He was being led to his inquisitors. Several months
later he was taken to the cellars of the Lubianka and
shot. . , .
In the office of every prosecuting investigator the most
important article of furniture is his couch. For the character
of his work is such that it often keeps him going at con-
secutive stretches of twenty to forty hours. He is himself
almost as much a captive as the prisoner. His duties know
no limits. They may extend from grilling prisoners to shoot-
ing them.
For it is one of the peculiarities of the Soviet judicial
process that despite the tremendous numbers of executions,
there are no regular executioners. Sometimes the men who
go down cellar to carry out the death decrees of the col-
legium of the Ogpu axe officers and sentries of the building.
Sometimes they are the investigators and prosecutors them-
selves. For an analogy to this, one must try to imagine a
New York District Attorney obtaining a first degree murder
conviction and then rushing up to Sing Sing to throw the
switch in the death chamber.
The Ogpu executioners took their greatest toll during 1937
and 1938, when the great purge engulfed everything. Earlier,
in 1934, Stalin loosed the Ogpu upon the rank and file of the
Bolshevik Party. The periodical "cleansing* of party ranks,
properly a function of the Party Control Commission, was
then turned over to the Secret Police. Then for the first time
every member of the Bolshevik Party was subjected to an
individual police investigation. In March, 1937, however,
Stalin decided that all these deansings and purges had not
gone deep enough. He had retained power from 1933 to 1936
145
largely because Yagoda and his secret agents worked hand
in hand with him in fervent loyalty to smash the old Bol-
shevik Party and the leadership of the Red Army. But
because Yagoda had become too intimate with Stalin's purge
methods, and too close to the reins of power, Stalin decided
to change executioners in mid-stream. The man chosen as
Yagoda's successor was Nikolai Yezhov, whom Stalin had
"planted" several years before as secretary of the Central
Committee of the Communist Party, and head of the bureau
of appointments, chief dispenser of patronage. In these posi-
tions Yezhov had been silently building a parallel Ogpu,
responsible only to Stalin personally. When he stepped into
Yagoda's shoes, he imported into the State Secret Police,
about two hundred of his own reliable "boys" from this
personal Ogpu of Stalin. Stalin's slogan in March 1937 was:
Intensify the purge! Yezhov translated that slogan into bloody
action. His first job was to inform the old Ogpu officials that
they had been lax, that they had been corruptly led, that the
new intensified purge must begin at home in the Ogpu itself.
On March 18, 1937, Yezhov addressed a meeting of the
leaders of the Ogpu in the club room of the annex to the
Lubianka Building. All of Yagoda's immediate assistants and,
with one exception, all the chiefs of the Ogpu divisions were
already under arrest. The blow was now about to fall upon
the high command. The spacious quarters of the club were
crowded with veteran Chekists, some of whom had served
in the Secret Police for nearly twenty years. Yezhov was
about to make his first declaration as the new chief of the
Ogpu, as "People's Commissar for Internal Affairs" f or again
in an attempt to get rid of ghastly associations the title
had been changed. The new supreme commander took his
job seriously. This was a big day for him. He was going to
prove that he was indispensable to Stalin. He was going to
expose the grand chief Yagoda himself to the surviving
Ogpu officials.
Yezhov began by declaring that it was not his task to prove
Yagoda's mistakes. If Yagoda had been a firm and honest
Bolshevik he could not have lost Stalin's trust. The root of
Yagoda's mistakes lay buried deep. Yezhov paused, and all
those present held their breath, sensing that a decisive mo-
ment was approaching. Yezhov then declared dramatically
that Yagoda had served the Czarist Secret Police, the
Okhrana, since 1907. The assembled police dignitaries took
this information without batting an eye. In 1907 Yagoda had
been ten years old! But that is not all, Yezhov shouted. The
Germans at once ferreted out Yagoda's true character and
planted him in the Cheka under Djerzhinski in the very first
days of the revolution. ^Throughout the entire life of the
Soviet State," cried Yezhov, "Yagoda has served as a spy for
the Germans." Yezhov proceeded to tell his terror-stricken
audience that Yagoda had his spies in every key position.
Yes, even the chiefs of the Ogpu divisions, Molchanov, Gorb,
Gai, Pauker, Volovitch all are spies!
Yezhov would prove this, he shouted prove that Yagoda
and has appointees were common thieves and prove it be-
yond any doubt. "Did not Yagoda appoint Lurye superin-
tendent of the construction division of the Ogpu? And who
is Luiye, if not the connecting link between Yagoda and
the foreign espionage service?** That was his proof.
For many years, he said, these two thieves, Yagoda and
Lurye, have been deceiving the country and the party. Itey
built canals, laid out roads and constructed buildings at
extravagant cost, but kept the recorded expenditures very
low.
TBut how, I ask you, comrades, how did these scoundrels
manage to do this? How, I ask you?*
147
Yezhov looked hard into the faces of his petrified audience,
and said:
"Very simply. The budget of the Commissariat for Internal
Affairs is not subject to control. It was from this budget, the
budget of his own institution, that Yagoda took the sums
enabling him to construct expensive buildings at extremely
low* prices.
"And why did Yagoda and Lurye construct buildings? Why
did they build roads? They did this in a race for popularity,
for notoriety, for decorations! But how can a traitor be satis-
fied with these things? Why did Yagoda yearn for popularity?
He needed it because in reality he was pursuing the policy
of Fouch< ."
Yezhov's rapid fire of contradictory accusations were
stupefying to ids audience. Yagoda had served the Okhrana
at the age of ten. Yagoda was a thief. Yagoda was a thief
who sought notoriety. Now it appeared that common spy,
stool pigeon and thief that he was, he also wished to emulate
Napoleon's rivalrous Minister of Police!
"This is a very serious question, comrades.," continued
Yezhov. "The Party has been compelled throughout all these
years to guard carefully against the rise of Foucheism among
us. That has not been simple. Yes, comrades, I must say to
you, and every one of you must keep it firmly in mind even
Felix Edmundovich Djerzhinski weakened in his defense of
the revolution."
Yezhov came to his peroration, which was in effect: We
need purges, purges and more purges. I, Yezhov, will have
no doubts, no vacillations, no weakness. If it is possible to
question the late Felix Djerzhinski, why should we respect
the reputation of even the oldest, most tried of Chekists?
The older members of the Ogpu command, veterans of the
Bolshevik Revolution, slated as the next victims, sat pale and
148
impassive. They applauded Yezhov. They applauded as if
the matter did not concern them at all. They applauded to
demonstrate their devotion. Who knows? A timely confession
might yet save them from a bullet through the base of the
brain. Perhaps they might once more buy the right to live
by betraying their closest friends.
As the meeting continued, Artusov took the floor the
Russified Swiss I have spoken of before a Bolshevik since
1914. Artusov knew what was at stake. An old Chelast with
a flair for acting, his little gray beard trembled as he rose to
speak. "Comrades," he began, "in the most difficult days of
the revolution Lenin pkced the very best of Bolsheviks,
Felix Edmundovich Djerzhinski at the head of the Cheka.
In an even more difficult time our great Stalin has appointed
as chief of the Commissariat for Internal Affairs, Nikolai
Ivanovitch Yezhov, his best disciple. Comrades! We Bolshe-
viks have learned to be merciless not only toward our ene-
mies, but toward ourselves. Yes, Yagoda did want to play
the role of Fouche. He did try to set the Ogpu against the
party. And because of our blindness we unwittingly partici-
pated in this scheme.**
Artusov's voice grew firmer, more confident. He continued.
In 1930, comrades, when the party first perceived this
tendency, and to put a stop to it, appointed the old Bolshevik
Akulov to the Ogpu, what did we do to help Akulov? We met
Akulov with violent hostility! Yagoda did everything he
could to make Akulov's work more difficult And we, com-
rades, not only supported Yagoda's sabotage, but went fur-
ther. I must say frankly the entire party organization in the
Ogpu was devoted to sabotaging Akulov."
Artusov's nervous gaze sought some token of approval in
YezhoVs angular little face. He felt that the moment had
149
come to take the offensive in his maneuver to deflect sus-
picion from himself,
"I ask you who was the head of the party organization in
the Ogpu at that time?" He paused for a moment, and then
shouted: "Sloutskir
Having thrown his comrade to the lions, Artusov descended
triumphantly from the platf orm.
Sloutsfct, then Chief of the Foreign Division of the Ogpu,
rose to defend himself. He too was an old experienced Bol-
shevik. He too knew what was at stake. Sloutski began rather
poorly, sensing that the cards were stacked against him.
"Artusov has sought to picture me as Yagoda's closest asso-
ciate. I reply, comrades: Of course, I was the secretary of
the party organization in the Ogpu. But was it Artusov or I,
who was a member of the collegium of the Ogpu? I ask you,
could anyone at that time have been a member of the col-
legium, the highest organ of the Ogpu, without having the
full confidence and approval of Yagoda? Artusov asserts that
by my 'good work* in the service of Yagoda as secretary of
the party organization, I obtained an assignment abroad, that
I received this in recognition of my sabotage of Akulov. I
utilized this assignment, according to Artusov, for the purpose
of establishing contact between Yagoda's espionage organ-
ization and his masters abroad. But I assert that my assign-
ment abroad was given upon Artusov's own determined
insistence. For many years Artusov has maintained the friend-
liest relations with Yagoda. 1 *
And now Sloutski struck his main blow.
*1 ask you, Artusov, where did you live? Who lived oppo-
site you? Bulanov. And is he not now among the first batch
arrested? And who lived just above you, Artusov? Ostrov-
sky. He too is arrested. And who lived just beneath you,
Artusov? Yagoda! And now I ask you, comrades, who, under
150
prevailing conditions, could have lived in the same house
with Yagoda without enjoying his absolute confidence?**
Stalin and Yezhov chose to believe both Artusov and
Sloutski, and in due course destroyed them both.
Such was the character of the intensified, or great purge,
that began in March 1937. The Soviet government became
one gigantic madhouse. Discussions like that I have described
took place in every department of the Ogpu, in eveiy unit
of the Bolshevik Party, in every factory, in every army regi-
ment, on every collective farm. Everyone was a traitor, until
he proved the contrary by exposing someone else as a traitor.
Men of prudence sought obscurity, demotion to a clerical
position if possibleanything to avoid importance and get
out of the limelight.
Long years of devotion to the party meant nothing. Even
protestations of loyalty to Stalin were of little avail. Stalin
himself had given the slogan: **A whole generation must be
sacrificed. 9 *
We had grown reconciled to that to the idea that the old
must go. But now the purge was attacking the new. I was
with Sloutski one night that spring, and we talked of the
number of arrests since March 350,000, we thought, possi-
bly 400,000. Sloutski spoke bitterly.
*We are really old, you know. They will take me. They
will take you, as they took the others. We belong to the gen-
eration which must perish. Stalin has said that the entire
pre-revolutionary and war generation must be destroyed as
a millstone around the neck of the revolution. But now they're
shooting the young ones seventeen and eighteen years of
age girls and boys who were born in the Soviet State and
never knew anything else . . . And lots of them go to their
deaths crying, *Long live Trotsky!* *
One of the most tragic examples of this kind was that of
151
my young friend Volodya Fisher. Volodya was a native of
Saratov, who entered the Young Communist League during
the civil war and later attended Sverdlov University. During
the collectivization drive he was appointed to one of the
political departments, the "Politodels," created by the Ogpu
for that emergency. Fisher accepted the appointment and
worked hard in the belief that he was helping to destroy the
greedy rich peasants who withheld food from the underfed
city population. When his work in the villages was com-
pleted, he returned to the Ogpu. In his party dossier it was
recorded that he had done <c brilliant work** in the villages.
He began to rise rapidly and was finally sent by the Ogpu as
Soviet consul to Copenhagen. All consular officials of the
Soviet government belong to the Ogpu. This was Volodya's
first trip beyond Russia. He found in Copenhagen an entirely
different atmosphere from any in which he had ever breathed.
La the countless shop windows of the city he saw articles of
clothing for sale at what seemed to him laughably low prices.
There was food, plenty of it and so cheap that Volodya
thought he was in fairyland.
<4 You know,** he told me, "until I went to Copenhagen I
never saw an orange. The first thing I did was to buy myself
an orange squeezer, and every morning I would drink a
quart of orange juice. Look at the muscles IVe developed!"
There was very little work for Volodya in Copenhagen
really his sole job as consul was to keep an eye on the Soviet
Embassy and he was blissfully content in that astoundingly
delightful world.
Suddenly in the first days of April, 1937, he received a
telegram ordering his return to Moscow. Upon his arrival,
he went straight from the railroad depot to the Ogpu to see
his chief, Sloutski Sloutski took him to dinner and told Trim
that he was soon to be sent to Rumania or Austria. After
152
dinner he set out in high spirits for Bogorodsk, a village near
Moscow, to visit his brother Lyovka, then foreman on a con-
struction job. His brother's wife greeted him with &e tearful
news that Lyovka had been arrested the previous November.
Between her sobs she told Trim the stoiy:
Lyovka was working on construction. His fellow workers
were very fond of him and elected him president of their
club. When preparations were being made for the November
7th celebration of the anniversary of the revolution, Lyovka
was in charge of decorating the interior of the club house.
He got out the finest picture of the Soviet leaders he could
find and hung it prominently on the wall. On the evening of
the celebration, when all the workers were assembled, some-
one noticed among the faces in the picture that of Karl
Radek, Lyovka had not noticed it because half of Radek's
face was covered by a newspaper. The secretary of the party
nucleus in the club decided that Lyovka was a "wrecker,"
because he had displayed the half-covered face of a recently
declared "enemy of the people," and that very night Lyovka
was arrested.
Volodya rushed bade to Moscow to see his good friend
Alexandrovsky, assistant chief of the Moscow district Ogpu.
"What's the reason for all this nensense?" asked Volodya.
"Lyovka is my brother, a good comrade and worker. How
can anyone call him a wrecker?"
*lt isn't as simple as all that, Volodya," Alexandrovsky
replied quietly. "The question of RadeFs picture, although
serious enough, is not the only charge against him. There
are other grave matters. Your brother had a room in the
country home of Frydland, the arrested historian."
For an instant Volodya was stunned. Lyovka never spoke
to Frydland in all his life. This apartment had been assigned
153
to him by the Soviet authorities offer Frydland's arrest.
Volodya flew into a rage.
"You scoundreir he shouted. "What in hell are you trying
to do? You can't get away with that. Ill see that bigger men
than you hear of it!"
Volodya was sure that his own position was strong. He
stormed out of Alexandrovsky's office, determined to obtain
justice, not only for his brother, but for others who might
have been framed by this seemingly insane official.
Volodya went first to the Central Committee of the Com-
munist Party. He was not received. He tried to obtain an
audience with Yezhov, but could not see him. Still he did
not lose his youthful confidence. He thought the delays were
simply due to red tape, and somehow became convinced that
by the First of May celebration his brother Lyovka would
be free.
On the evening of April 30, we had dinner together, and
for the first time Volodya was gloomy. But three or four days
kter he burst in upon me, grinning from ear to ear.
"Well," he said, *Tm getting Lyovka out at last. Shapiro
of the Ogpu has sent for me!"
Shapiro was then head of a special Ogpu department cre-
ated under Yezhov and called the "Section for Extraordinary
Matters."
**What else would Shapiro want to see me about?" he cried,
and rushed away to keep his appointment.
As soon as Volodya was in Shapiro's presence he recited
the facts of his brother's case, speaking quickly and full of
assurance. Shapiro waited until Volodya had finished, then
rose slowly from behind his desk.
**You, a member of the party and an officer of the Ogpu,
dare to insult a brother Chekist? The Ogpu does not arrest
innocent peoplel"
154
Before Volodya could catch his breath, Shapiro opened a
new subject
"By the way, did you receive a letter in Copenhagen last
year from Mandelstamm, then attache of the Commissariat
of Foreign Affairs?"
Mandelstamm was now under arrest on some unspecified
charge. Volodya was puzzled and confused.
"Mandelstamm? He's the husband of my former wife. I
know him, of course, but I didn't receive mail from him while
I was in Denmark***
"You are certain?"
"Yes, I'm certain.''
"Very well," said Shapiro dryly, "if we need you, well send
for you."
When Volodya walked out of Shapiro's office his hopes for
his brother were pretty well shattered. He could not sleep
that night. Suddenly, in the early hours of the morning, he
jumped clear out of bed.
"I did receive a letter from Mandelstamm!'* flashed through
his brain. Then the entire picture came back to him. The
diplomatic courier arriving as usual with the large sealed
package containing his regular mail, and that day it was
several months agoreaching into his pocket and remarking
casually: "Here's a letter Mandelstamm handed me for you
just as I was leaving the Narkomindel."
Volodya came to my apartment as soon as it was light, and
told me what had happened
"What was in the letter?" I asked fearfully.
"Oh, the contents were harmless enough. Something about
a new job and some evening courses he was taking at the
University. Nothing else, I swear."
"Volodya," I said, "go directly to Shapiro and tell him what
youVetoldme."
155
He did as I suggested.
"Comrade Shapiro/* he began apologetically, "I made a
mistake yesterday. I did receive a letter from Mandelstamm,
but I had forgotten all about it."
Instead of answering, Shapiro opened the drawer of his
desk and confronted Volodya with a photostatic copy of
Mandelstamm's letter.
'Tin sorry/* stammered Volodya. "I forgot all about it
yesterday.**
"You lied about it yesterday, 9 ' Shapiro replied. "You may
go now."
On May 25, 1937,. Volodya Fisher was arrested by the
Ogpu. I never heard of him again. He was destroyed because
of the two unspeakable crimes with which he was linked:
he had received a letter from his former wife's husband, and
his brother had displayed a half of RadeFs face on the wall
of a worker's club house in Bogorodsk.
There were thousands and thousands of such cases in
Soviet Russia during the great purge.
In the chambers of the Ogpu the very word guilt lost all
meaning. The reason for a man's arrest no longer bore any
relation to the charges entered against him.
There is no better example of this than the case of Yagoda
himself. Among the many fantastic charges made against this
chief of the Ogpu at his trial in March, 1938, none was more
intrinsically nonsensical than that he had plotted to poison
Stalin, Yezhov, and the members of the Politbureau. For
many years Yagoda had been in direct charge of feeding the
rulers in the Kremlin, including Stalin himself and all the
highest dignitaries of the Soviet government. A special Ogpu
department, under Yagoda's immediate control, supervised
every step of the provisioning of the Kremlin, from the spe-
156
cial Kremlin collective farms, where tie products were raised
under the eyes of Yagoda's staff to the tables of the Soviet
leaders where Yagoda's agents served them. Planting, har-
vesting, transport, cooking and catering were done by special
Ogpu agents immediately responsible to no other but Yagoda.
Each member of this special section answered to Yagoda with
his head, and Yagoda bore the whole nerve-wracking re-
sponsibility alone for years. Stalin, who owed his life in
more ways than one to Yagoda's loyal vigilance, ate no food
but that which Yagoda's staff served him.
At the trial it was "proven" that Yagoda had been at the
head of a gigantic poisoning conspiracy into which he forced
as accomplices even the veteran physicians of the Eremlin.
But that was not all. It was "proven" that Yagoda, super-
chef, so to speak, of the Kremlin, not satisfied with the obvious
methods of poisoning, had plotted to loll Yezhov slowly by
spraying his study with deadly vapors. All of these startling
"facts" came out in open court, and all of them were "con-
fessed to" by Yagoda himself. They are matters of public
record. No one in Russia dared mention the fact that through-
out the entire duration of the alleged conspiracy Yagoda was
master of the Kremlin kitchen.
Of course other charges were made against him. It ap-
peared that in addition to embezzling money from Ogpu
construction enterprises, he withheld the very bread from
the mouths of the Soviet rulers, selling Kremlin provisions to
outsiders and pocketing the profit He used these funds,
according to court testimony, to stage extravagant orgies.
Like so many other "facts" exhibited at the Moscow show
trials, this story of Yagoda's stealing bread and meat from
Stalin's table had a tiny grain of truth at its foundation.
During the period of acute food shortage, Yagoda did make
1ST
a practice of ordering more provisions than the Kremlin rulers
required. The surplus he distributed among his underfed
colleagues of the Ogpu. For several years the upper officials
of the Ogpu received secret food packages from Yagoda in
addition to their regular rations. Some members of our Mili-
tary Intelligence grumbled about this, and Yagoda for a
time extended his almsgiving to us, so that I myself partici-
pated in these crumbs from the Kremlin's table. When
Yagoda's accounts were examined, it was discovered that
Molotov to take a random example had been charged with
about ten times as much sugar as he could possibly have
consumed.
Besides charging Yagoda with an elaborate conspiracy to
poison people whom he could have poisoned with a turn of
his hand, and with selling Kremlin provisions for his personal
profit, Stalin's tribunal also took note of the fact that he
had given away these same stolen provisions, and on that
ground accused him of buying popularity for the purpose
of his intrigues & la Fouche.
I am not relating these fantastic facts, or rather nightmares,
in order to entertain the reader. I want to prove to him my
assertion that in the Ogpu, when Stalin's purge got under
way, the very concept of guilt was lost sight of. The reasons
for a man's arrest had no relation to the charges lodged
against him. Nobody expected them to have. Nobody de-
manded it Truth became entirely irrelevant When I say
that the Soviet government became a gigantic madhouse, I
mean it literally. Americans laugh when I recount to them
some of these preposterous things that happened and I
could fill a volume with them but it was not a laughing mat-
ter to us. It is not funny when your lifelong friends and com-
rades are disappearing in the night and dying all around you.
158
Please remember that I was an inmate of that gigantic
madhouse . .
The value of a "conf ession* obtained by the Ogpu is well
illustrated by the case of an Austrian Socialist who, out-
lawed in his own country by the Dollfuss regime, had found
asylum in the land of the Soviets. He was arrested in Lenin-
grad in 1935. The head of the Leningrad Ogpu, Zakovslcy,
got him to confess that he had been a member of the Vienna
police force, and on that ground he was imprisoned as an
Austrian spy. Through some devious means the prisoner
managed to send a letter to Kalim'n, the figurehead president
of the Soviet Union. The case was turned over to Sloutski,
who phoned me about it one morning.
"Walter, there's an Austrian Schutzbund matter here of
which I can't make head or tail. You might be able to help
me. It's right down your alley."
"Send the dossier down to me," I replied, "and HI see what
I can do."
The papers were soon handed to me by one of Sloutskf s
messengers. The first pages were Zakovsky's report to his
superiors in Moscow stating how he had obtained the con-
fession. It was not unusual. The prisoner had offered little
resistance; but it left me unconvinced. Running further
through the papers, I came across the questionnaire which
the prisoner, as was required of every foreigner, had filled
out when he entered the Soviet Union. It contained his com-
plete biography, recounting how he had joined the Austrian
Socialist Party before the war and had then served at the
front. After the war, acting upon instructions from his party
which controlled Vienna, he had joined the municipal police
force. The force was then ninety per cent Socialist, and was
affiliated with the Amsterdam Trade Union International.
159
All of this appeared in his questionnaire, which also
revealed that when the Socialists lost control of Vienna, he,
together with the other Socialist officers, was discharged
from the police force. It also appeared that he had been the
commander of a battalion of the Schutzbund, the Socialist
defense league, during the February, 1934, fight against the
Fascist Heimwehr. I called up Sloutski and explained this
to him.
"This Austrian Socialist served in the police force by order
of his party, just as you do here. Ill send you a report to
that effect at once."
Sloutski replied hurriedly: "No, no, don't send me any
report. Gome over to my office/*
When I reached his office I again explained that a Socialist
could not be proven a spy of present-day Austria because he
had been a policeman under the Socialist regime.
Sloutski nodded. "Yes, I know, Zakovsky got him to 'con-
fess* that he had been a Socialist policeman in Vienna! That's
some confession! But don't think of writing a report. These
days one doesn't write/'
Notwithstanding his offhand manner,. Sloutski interceded
with President Kalinin for the arrested Austrian Socialist.
Zakovsky's conduct was quite in the regular line of Ogpu
duty. "Confessions" such as he had obtained were the prin-
cipal meat upon which the Ogpu fed. My Austrian Socialist
was no more and no less guilty than hundreds of thousands
who lacked his good luck.
A conversation I had about this time with Kedrov, one of
the most skillful of Ogpu investigators, is revealing. I met
tinr> in the Ogpu restaurant in Moscow, and we got to talking
of General Primakov, one of his important cases. In 1934
General Primakov, a member of the high command of the
Red Army, was arrested and turned over to Kedrov for grill-
160
ing. Kedrov went to work on his distinguished victim with
all the tricks at his command. He sighed as he told me
about it.
"You know what happened?" he said. "Just as he was
beginning to break down and we knew it would be only a
matter of days or a week or two before we would have a full
confession, he was suddenly released at the demand of
Voroshilovr
Again you see the irrelevance of the charges against the
prisoner even though he is on the point of "confessing all"
to the reasons for his imprisonment. In foreign countries
people discuss whether the confessions obtained by the Ogpu
are true or not. In the inner circles of the Ogpu the question
hardly ever arose. That is not what the investigations were
about.
General Primakov, snatched from the hands of the Ogpu
on the verge of a "confession," served his country three years,
and on June 12, 1937, along with Marshal Tukhachevsfcy,
and seven other ranking generals was shot for new and
different reasons.
Only once in my life, in August, 1935, did I interrogate a
political prisoner. He was Vladimir Dedushok, sentenced in
1932 to ten years in a concentration camp on Solovietsky
Island. He had been arrested in connection with a scandal
connecting our Chief of Intelligence in Vienna with the
German Military Intelligence. Dedushok himself, whom I
knew, was completely innocent, but our Chief was too im-
portant to be shelved at the moment, and Dedushok had
been the scapegoat Dedushok, a Ukranian, had joined the
Bolsheviks during the Civil War and had served in the
Intelligence Department more than ten years. In the course
of my work for tibe Deuxieme Bureau of Soviet Intelligence
in 1935, I ran into several aspects of that affair in Vienna
161
which were not clear, I decided that Dedushok might be
able to help me clear them up. I asked Sloutski whether I
could have an opportunity to question Dedushofc. Sloutski
said the case was in the hands of the Ogpu section then
headed by Michael Gorb, and I got in touch with Gorb.
"To your good luck, Krivitsky," Gorb told me, "Dedushok
is right now on his way from Solovietsky. We're bringing
him to Moscow for questioning in connection with the con-
spiracy of the officers of the Kremlin garrison.**
Some days later Gorb called me up.
"Dedushok is in the Lubianka prison," he said. "His inves-
tigator is Kedrov.**
I called Kedrov and arranged to have Dedushok brought
to his office at eleven o'clock that same night.
My position did not give me the right to examine prisoners.
That was exclusively an Ogpu function. In exceptional cases,
however, it is possible to interview a prisoner provided an
Ogpu man is present. At ten o'clock that night I was in
Kedrov's office, Room 994, of the Lubianka, and I explained
to him what I had in mind. It might be better if I knew the
circumstances surrounding Dedushok's conviction. Pointing
to a dossier on his desk, Kedrov said:
'Head this and you'll know what it's all about."
The dossier was several hundred pages long, and consisted
of various questionnaires, affidavits, etc., also letters of rec-
ommendation which Dedushok had received at various times.
Finally I came to his cross-examination which had not been
conducted by Kedrov. After about twenty typed questions
and answers of a more or less formal nature, the regular
questioning broke off and the paper continued with a long
story in Dedushok's own hand. I think I know what hap-
pened. The Ogpu investigator was either impatient, or, as
was often the case, very tired. He told Dedushok to write
162
his whole story in his own words, in the presence of a guard.
I read Dedushok's story and saw that, although he had signed
a formal confession, he was completely innocent. Closing the
dossier, I said to Kedrov:
"What kind of a case is this anyhow? A book of nearly six
hundred pages which says nothing at all, and then at the end;
* Dedushok admits his guilt, and the investigator recom-
mends to the Ogpu collegium that he be sent to Solovietsky
Island for ten years/ The collegium, with the signature of
Agranov, approves."
"Well, I looked it over too," Kedrov said, "and I can't make
it out."
It was nearly midnight when Kedrov phoned the com-
mandant in the Isolator and asked that Dedushok be sent
to his office. Ten minutes later Dedushok was brought in by
a guard. Tall, sharp-featured, handsome, dressed in a dean
white shirt, and carefully shaven, he was surprisingly the
same. The only startling change after three years was that
his hair had turned completely white. He stared at Kedrov
who sat behind the desk. It was a moment before he saw me
sitting on the couch, but when he did, he turned frightfully
pale. I said simply:
"Hello, Dedushok"
With studied r&lm he sat down in the chair facing Bedrov,
asked for a cigarette, and said:
"What do you want of me? Why did you have me brought
from Solovietsky?"
Kedrov was silent and Dedushok tamed to ma
*Did the Fourth Department demand that I be brought
here?"
Kedrov then spoke up. "No, not the Fourth Department
We had you brought here for an entirely different reason.
But Krivitsky has several questions he wants to put to you**
163
The atmosphere was very tense. Dedushok kept shifting
his gaze from Kedrov to me. He sat rigid, prepared to use his
wits against bpth of us. For some reason no one of us spoke
for as long as a minute. The green lamp shade gave the room
an eerie half-light. Finally I broke the silence.
"Dedushok, I don't know your affair and I have no au-
thority to interfere in it. But in looking into the case of X -
in our Intelligence Service, I came to the conclusion that
you could clear up some important points. If you can recall
certain details of the affair, it will be very useful. If not,
well try to get the information elsewhere.
"Yes, I remember," he replied, relaxing a little. "Ill try
to answer your questions.**
"How have you been getting along, Dedushok?" I asked
him.
His reply was stoical. "At first it was very hard but it's
better now. I've been put in charge of a flour mill on the
island. I get Pravda regularly, and from time to time a few
books. That's how I'm getting along.**
He asked me how my own affairs were progressing.
"Not badly,** I replied. "We work hard and live in the Soviet
manner.**
For more than an hour we chatted about general matters,
and when I finally came to what had brought me to the
Lubianka, Kedrov said:
"You know, I*m awfully tired. I see you will be here a long
time. Can't we arrange it so I can get some sleep?"
Strict rules required that Kedrov be present throughout
the interview* He alone had the authority to summon the
prisoner, and deliver him back to the jailer.
"Ring up Gorb,** he said, "and let's see if we can fix it up.**
Gorb was no stickler for form.
"All right, Krivitsky,** he said. "Well make an exception.
164
m phone the prison commandant's office and tell him that
you'll sign for Dedushok's return to his cell/ 7
When Kedrov had left, Dedushok became less guarded,
Pointing to his dossier he said, very impersonally, as though
the document didn't concern him at all:
"Did you read that stuff?"
I replied that I had.
"Well, what do you think of it?" he asked.
I was in a position to give him only one reply*
**You confessed, didn't you?** I said.
"Yes, I confessed."
Dedushok then asked me to send for tea and sandwiches,
which I did gladly. Both of us soon forgot the purpose of
my mission. He told me that he had been expecting a three
or four day visit from his wife, the Ogpu's reward for good
behavior, but now, in view of his recall to Moscow, he did
not think he would see her. He did not linger on that subject,
but turned enviously to Kedrov's bookshelves, filled with in-
teresting English, German, French and Russian works. He
picked out several books and glanced through them eagerly.
I told him that I would ask Kedrov to lend him a few. At
four in the morning we had still not touched the subject of
the interview. Dedushok understood his own position and
mine perfectly. He knew very well that I might land in his
shoes any moment, and did not therefore play the martyr.
The few hours with someone from the outside world were too
precious to waste on complaints against fate. I promised to
tell the Ogpu authorities I had not completed my question-
ing, and would return the following night. Just before dawn,
I called the commandant's office for a guard to lead Dedushofc
back to his cell. As usual there was a muddle. A new com-
mandant was in charge. He made a big fuss and we finally
had to wake up Gorb.
165
The following night I returned, and again Eedrov left us
alone. I gave Dedushok a pen and paper and asked him to
write out everything he knew about the case in which I was
interested. Dedushok did that in about twenty minutes. Tea
and sandwiches were brought in, and again we talked until
morning.
"Why did you confess?" I finally asked him, letting the
question slip with studied indifference while examining a
book. For a time Dedushok said nothing, pacing the room as
though he were preoccupied with other thoughts. When he
did speak, it was in half-finished phrases which would have
meant little to an outsider, but were clear in their implica-
tions to anyone who spent twenty-four hours a day in the
Soviet apparatus. Dedushok dared not speak openly on the
subject any more than I did. The mere fact that I asked him
the question exposed me to a risk which he might easily have
exploited.
Careful as he was, I pieced together what had happened.
Dedushok had not been tortured with the Third Degree. He
had been told at once by his investigator that if he confessed
he could expect to get off with a ten-year sentence, and
knowing the ways of the Ogpu, he had judged well and
accepted the offer. Although not even remotely connected
with the Kremlin conspiracy about which he was summoned
to Moscow, Dedushok never got back to his flour mill. He
was shot. . . .
One of the boasted achievements of the Ogpu has been its
"regeneration" of peasants, engineers, professors and indus-
trial workers who, failing of enthusiasm for the Soviet sys-
tem, were rounded up in millions and shipped to labor camps
to learn the blessings of collectivism. These hardened ene-
mies of Stalin's dictatorship, peasants who dung greedily to
their three cows, professors who dung as avidly to non-
166
Marxian scientific concepts, engineers who lacked the vision
to see eye-to-eye with the Five-Year Plan, workers criminal
enough to grumble about low pay all of these desperate
groups, and others like them, totaling about seven million,
were transported by the Ogpu into a new collective world
where they did forced labor under Ogpu guards, and emerged
obedient Soviet citizens.
On April 1&, 1931, the Soviet Council of Labor and De-
fense decreed that in twenty months a canal should be in
operation between the White Sea and the Baltic, a distance
of about 140 miles. The Ogpu was put in complete charge of
the work. It conscripted nearly half a million prisoners, and
cutting down forests, blasting away rock, leveling off rapids
and waterfalls, it opened the great waterway on schedule.
From the deck of the steamer Anokfiin, Stalin himself with
Yagoda at his side viewed the great opening celebration.
When the canal was completed an amnesty decree lib-
erated 12,484 of the half million * criminals" who had built
the canal and shortened the sentences of 59,516 others. But
the Ogpu soon discovered that the majority of those lib-
erated" had become so fond of working collectively on the
canal, that it shipped them to another great engineering
project, the Moscow-Volga Canal.
On April SO, 1937, 1 saw an immense photograph of Finn,
the chief Ogpu canal builder, prominently displayed in the
Red Square. Well, I thought to myself, there's one big man
who hasn't been arrested! Two days later I ran into a col-
league who had just been recalled from abroad. One of the
first things he said, after recovering from the shock of finding
me still at large, was: "You know, Firm is finished.**
I told him that was impossible, since Finn's photograph
was still on display on the most important square in Moscow.
T[ tell you Finn is finished," he said. "I was at the opening
of the Moscow-Volga Canal today and he wasn't there/'
Late that night I received a phone call from a friend work-
ing on Izvestia. He told me that his office had been notified
to remove from its files all photographs and biographical
references to Firin, the great canal builder of the Ogpu. . . .
The Ogpu was not satisfied to limit its operations to Russia
alone. Despite all the efforts of skilled propagandists, the
world looked with skepticism upon the "conf essions" of old
Bolsheviks in the Moscow trials. Stalin and the Ogpu decided
to convince the world that the Moscow spectacle was on
the level by arranging .similar dramas in Spain, in Czecho-
slovakia, and in the United States.
The trial of the leaders of the Spanish Marxist Party,
POUM, in Barcelona in October, 1938, on charges of treason,
espionage and attempting to murder the leaders of the
Loyalist government, was prepared by the Russian Ogpu.
Moscow hoped to demonstrate through this POUM trial that
in Spain all radicals who oppose Stalin are **Trotskyite-
Fascist plotters." But Barcelona is not Moscow. The Ogpu
did its best under the circumstances, but despite all pressure
the prisoners refused to say that they were spies in the
service of General Franco.
I got wind of these proposed foreign trials one day in May,
1937, while in the office of Sloutski. He received a telephone
call and after a long conversation with a person whose iden-
tity he did not reveal, he hung up and said:
'Tfezhov and Stalin seem to think that I can arrest people
in Prague as easily as in Moscow."
'What do you mean?** I asked.
TSiivitsky, here's the way things stand," he said. "Stalin
wants a trial of Trotskyist spies in Europe. It will create a
168
big effect if we can put it across* The Prague police are going
to arrest Grylewicz. They are friendly, but we can't manage
the Czechs as we do our own people. Here in Moscow all I
have to do is open the doors of the Lubianka and pull in as
many as I want. But in Prague there are still some of those
Czech legionnaires who fought us in 1918, and they sabotage
our work."
Anton Grylewicz, a former German Communist leader and
member of the Prussian Diet who later became a Trotskyist,
took refuge in Czechoslovakia when Hitler came to power.
His arrest in Prague, which Sloutsla predicted, occurred im-
mediately after the execution of the Red Army Generals on
June 12, 1937. 1 learned from other sources the further evo-
lution of this Moscow plot.
The morning of his arrest, a Czech detective confronted
him with a suitcase which he had left at a friend's house
many nlonths before, and which he had not opened since
October, 1936. The suitcase contained a number of radical
pamphlets, some business correspondence and some other
innocuous material. Nothing in it could conceivably have
been regarded as in violation of Czech law let alone as evi-
dence of military or other espionage nor was anything of
the kind intimated by the detective that morning. But in the
evening a new investigator appeared, who immediately en-
gaged Grylewicz in conversation about the Moscow trials.
After thus intimating what was on the boards, he confronted
Giylewicz with three forged passports, a film negative con-
taining a German plan dated Feb. 17, 1937, for occupation of
, Sudetenland, and a note in an Tmfflmilfor handwriting. Before
Giylewicz had an opportunity to eacamine the note, the inves-
tigator snatched it from his hand and exclaimed:
T suppose you didn't write that?"
The note contained directions for the use of invisible ink.
169
Afl of these incriminating bits of evidence, Grylewicz was
informed, had been found in his suitcase. Upon Grylewicz's
insistence, regular Czech police officers were called in, and
in their presence he certified which of the articles were his
and which were planted. At midnight he was locked up.
On July 15, he was transferred to another prison. On July
22, he was politely examined by a Czech investigator, who
intimated that the Moscow Ogpu men had it in for him, and
seemed to have "solicitous friends'* among the Czech police.
Grylewicz was finally released in the middle of November,
after he had refuted, point by point, all the accusations
against him, and proven that every scrap of incriminating
evidence against him had been planted. The Ogpu failed in
this attempt, whose beginnings I had stumbled upon in
Moscow, to prove that the Czech Trotskyists were working
with Hitler against the Prague government. Had the effort
succeeded, it would have gone a long way to convince Euro-
pean skeptics that the "evidence" in the Moscow trials was
genuine.
The Ogpu even kid plans for a "Trotskyist-Fascist" trial
in New York, but until the full story of the disappearance of
Juliette Stuart Poyntz, as well as the details of the Robinson-
Rubens affair, have been unearthed, it will be impossible to
know exactly how far the preparations went.
All that has been established indisputably is that some
time between late May and early June, 1937, the period of
that Grylewicz case in Prague, Juliette Stuart Poyntz, once a
prominent leader of the American Communist Party, left her
room in the Women's Association club house at 353 West
57th Street, New York City. Her wardrobe, books and other
possessions were found in the room in a state to indicate that
she expected to return the same day. She has never been
heard from since.
170
"Donald Robinson" alias Rubens, was arrested in Moscow
on December 2, 1937. His wife, an American citizen, was
arrested shortly thereafter for entering Russia on a false
passport. Robinson, who served many years as an officer in
the Soviet Military Intelligence, both in the United States
and abroad, has not been heard from since his arrest. His
wife, after her recent release by the Soviet authorities, wrote
a letter to her daughter in the United States in which she
intimated strongly that she never expected to see her husband
alive again. Mrs, Rubens, although an American citizen, has
not been permitted to leave the Soviet Union.
But the clearest intimation to me that Moscow was woik-
ing seriously for a spy trial of American enemies of Stalin
came in a remark dropped by Sloutski a few days after his
reference to Grylewicz.
He spoke to me about my one-time assistant in the Third
Section, Valentine Marian, who later became chief of the
Ogpu in the United States. In 1934 reports reached Marlon's
wife in Moscow that he had been slain in a New York night
dub by gangsters and that story had been passed along to
me. But in May, 1937, Sloutski told me:
Ton know, it turned out that your friend Valentine
Marlon, who was lolled in New York three years ago was a
Trotskyist, and filled the Ogpu service in the United States
with Trotskyists."
In our circle such remarks are never dropped as bits of
idle gossip, certainly not by the Chief of the Foreign Division
of the Ogpu. Connected with the other preparations by
Moscow of which he had spoken, the reference to *Trotsky-
ists" in the American division of the Ogpu implied that
something was being cooked up in the United States, even
before the Poyntz and Robinson affairs developed. The word
171
"Trotskyists" is used by Soviet officials as an epithet for all
opponents to Stalin.
It must be remembered that real American agents of the
Ogpu are in fact engaged in espionage in the United States.
Besides military espionage, they keep tabs on anti-Stalinists,
especially radicals and ex-Communists, in this country. Most
of the elements of a colossal frame-up in the style of the
Moscow show trials were present. What Moscow apparently
hoped to do was to enmesh some of its genuine American
agents, together with wholly innocent anti-Stalinists who had
been lured into a compromising position.
Nonetheless it seems that the Ogpu's elaborate scheme to
prove that American radicals who oppose Stalin are agents
of Hitler's Gestapo, by arranging a trial of "Trotskyists" in
America fell flat. Nothing developed in this country, and
despite the probable kidnaping of Miss Poyntz and the mys-
terious arrest of "Robinson,*" nothing has developed in the
Soviet Union.
No more successful was the Ogpu's attempt to connect
Rykov and Bukharin, two of the outstanding Bolshevik
leaders, with the Russian Menshevik Socialist emigres in
Paris. With this end in view, the Ogpu in Spain kidnaped
Mark Rein, son of Raphael Abramovitch, the exiled Men-
shevik leader. Rein, who left Russia as a small child, had
grown up in Berlin and Paris. Unlike his father he was sym-
pathetic to the Communists and to the Soviet Union. He
went to Spain to fight in the Loyalist ranks and to work for
the unification of the Socialist and Communist Parties.
When Moscow learned that Abramovitch's son was on
territory which it regarded as its own, it decided that he
might be useful in a show trial connecting Bukharin and
Rykov with the 6migr enemies of the Soviet regime, On
April 9, 1937, the Ogpu spirited Mark Rein away frqm the
172
Hotel Continental in Barcelona, and he was never seen alive
again. His father rushed immediately to Spain, where he
spent nearly a month in a vain search for him. Not a single
member of the Loyalist government was able to fiimfsh him
with a clue. Whatever the Ogpu may have done with Rein,
it did not succeed in obtaining from him a confession linking
his father with the Bolshevik opponents of Stalin.
That was the Ogpu's second disappointment in connection
with Abramovitch. During an earlier show trial, in 1931, it
was testified that Abramovitch made a secret trip to Russia
to plot the overthrow of the Soviet government. No sooner
had this bombshell exploded, however, than it was estab-
lished beyond question that at the very moment Abramo-
vitch was allegedly in Russia, he was in fact in Amsterdam,
as one of the chief speakers at the Congress of the Labor and
Socialist International. To make the fiasco complete, the
European press published a photograph taken of Abramo-
vitch in the company of numerous internationally known
socialist and labor leaders during the Amsterdam Congress.
. Before the embarrassing expose of the Abramovitch affair,
I chanced to talk with an assistant chief of the Ogpu. In 1931
we still spoke quite openly and called things by their proper
name.
"What kind of a mess are you people getting yourself
into?" I asked him. "Who will believe that Abramovitch was
in Moscow?"
T know that as well as you,** he replied, "but what are we
to do? The government needs a trial, It's up to us to prepare
material."
At the height of the great purge, while Stalin was ter-
rorizing all Russia, he made a speech about the loving bond
that unites the Bolshevik leaders with the Russian people.
173
He had learned about the Greek myth of Anteos and used
that for illustration. Anteos was the son of Poseidon, god of
the sea, and Gaea, goddess of the earth. He felt closely
attached to the mother who bore, nourished and reared him.
There was no hero whom Anteos could not vanquish. "What
was the secret of his strength?" asked Stalin.
"The reason was that every time in battle with an enemy
he found himself in danger, he clung to the earth, his
mother who bore and nourished him, and thus he gained
new strength. But still he had his vulnerable spot, the danger
of being somehow torn away from the earth.
"His enemies learned this weakness and surrounded him.
Then there appeared a foe who took advantage of his weak-
ness and conquered him. This was Hercules. But how did
Hercules conquer him? He tore him away from the earth,
lifted him into the air, deprived him of the chance to cling
to the earth, and by this means he strangled him in mid-air.
"I believe that the Bolsheviks remind us of Anteos, the
hero of Greek mythology. They, just like Anteos are strong
in that they are attached to their mother, to the masses who
bore, nurtured and reared them. And so long as they main-
tain the bond with their mother, with the people, they have
every chance to remain invincible.
'This is the secret of the invincibility of the Bolshevik
leadership.**
In his solicitude to keep in touch with the people, Stalin
employed a special staff of about one hundred persons, picked
from the highest Soviet officials and their wives. One day
they would ride in the Moscow street cars catching bits of
conversation. Another day they would stand in the long
queues and note whether the housewives were satisfied or
were grumbling. Then they would ride in the trains to Kiev,
Odessa, to the Urals. Everywhere these aristocratic onlookers
174
tried to maintain their bond with their mother, the masses.
Stalin, as lie put it, wanted them to 'look into the eyes of the
Russian people."
Stalin's bond with the masses was also kept fresh by a
veritable army of Ogpu spies and stool pigeons, specializing
in the arrest of ordinary citizens for chance remarks against
the regime. This type of police rule, perfected in Russia, has
been adopted by Nazi Germany also. Hitler, in his speech to
the Reichstag on September 1, 1939, told his party lieutenants
that during the war he would hold them responsible for the
mood of the people in every province, on every block, in
every house in Germany, The difference is that Stalin by
1937 had lost confidence even in his army of spies. As we
have seen, he established an organization of spies to spy on
spies. And he even at one point decided, according to a story
that was told to all high officials, that he did not trust any-
body and became his own Chekist, Growing suspicious of
the actions of one of his clerks, he began to shadow him. He
observed that this person was carrying on some strange
operations inside the walls of his library. According to the
story we received, it was found that this clerk was connected
with a number of officers of the Kremlin guard leagued to
assassinate not only Stalin, but the entire Political Bureau.
A high official of the Ogpu in relating this to me remarked
how embarrassing it was to his organization to have been
ignorant of the plot. The word went about that the Tbest
Chekist is Stalin himself."
This alleged plot was the pretext for a wave of arrests not
only within the Kremlin, but throughout the country. But
this attempt on Stalin's life was, of course, never mentioned
in any of the "confessions" which figured so dramatically in
the Moscow show trials. Hundreds of fantastic tales were
told there of plots to assassinate Stalin, but this attempt which
175
Stalin himself "discovered** has never been publicly men-
tioned.
In 1935 I had a special occasion to observe how Stalin
maintains his loving bond with the masses, I was looking for
a summer cottage, and my rather naive friend Valya sug-
gested that I go to Metishchie.
"The head of the Metishchie Ogpu is a close friend of
mine. Hell help you find the right place.**
We drove to Metishchie, about an hour out of Moscow, and
found that the Ogpu chief had a beautiful house of about
twelve rooms with spacious offices in which a large Ogpu staff
was very busy. Our host was most cordial, and found me just
the place I wanted.
In the evening we returned to his house for dinner. At
the table he explained his importance, bragged of the ex-
cellent Ogpu machine which he had set up in Metishchie,
and generally let it be understood that he was something of a
minor Yagoda himself. I could not understand why this quiet
summer resort required an Ogpu machine so totally out of
proportion to its size.
"But why all this tremendous apparatus?** I asked. "Whafs
it for?"
"Don*t you know, Comrade Krivitsky, there is a locomo-
tive factory in this country employing several thousand
workers?**
Our host evidently expected me to say, "Oh, well, that
clears it all up. Where there are workers, there's of course a
job for the Ogpu.'* But I remained silent.
Valya, however, kept up our end of the conversation. "Of
course,** she said, "nowadays the workers are grumbling more
than anyone else.**
That was the Ogpu in 1935. But two years later with
Yezhov at the helm we looked back almost wistfully at 1935.
176
No man in history ever did for his master what Yezhov did
for Stalin.
A partial list of Yezhov's victims includes almost all the
eighty members of the Soviet Council of War created in
1934; the majority of the members of Stalin's own Central
Committee and his Control Commission; most of the mem-
bers of the Executive Committee of the Soviets, of the Coun-
cil of People's Commissars, of the Council of Labor and
Defense, of the leaders of the Communist International; afl
the chiefs and deputy chiefs of the Ogpu; a host of ambassa-
dors and other diplomats; the heads of all the regional and
autonomous republics of the Soviet Union; 35,000 members
of the officers' corps; almost the entire staff of Pracda and
Izvestfa} a great number of writers, musicians, and theater
directors; and finally a majority of the leaders of the Young
Communist League, the cream of the generation from whom
the greatest loyalty to Stalin was expected.
The cumulative effect of what Yezhov accomplished during
the twenty-six months that he headed the Ogpu was so
ghastly, that he had to pay for his loyalty with his head.
The frightfulness reached such a point that Stalin, to save
himself, had to execute his executioner. For all his fawning
and his real devotion to him, Yezhov had to pay the price
of afl eminence in Stalin's Russia. On December 8, 1938, an
abrupt communiqu^ announced that Yezhov had been re-
lieved of his duties as Commissar for Internal Affairs and
succeeded by Lorenti Beria, Stalin's Caucasian countryman.
Following the usual custom, Yezhov was nominally retained
as Commissar of Water Transport, but he disappeared com-
pletely and finally*
Of afl the purges initiated by Stalin the most frightful, the
one that, even if it were possible for history to forget afl else,
177
could never be erased from the horrified memory of man-
kind, is his purge of the children.
Early in 1935 the Ogpu presented the Political Bureau
with a report on juvenile delinquency. The shootings and
deportations and famines of 1932-33 had produced a fresh
wave of bezprizornii, homeless waifs roaming the country-
side. The Ogpu analyzed this vast children's tragedy and
pointed out to Stalin the shocking conditions that prevailed.
There was a tremendous crime wave among young children.
Disease among them was widespread. Sexual depravity was
almost universal. Even more shocking to Stalin, the report
disclosed that many thousands of children, as an escape
from their hard life, were entering religious sects.
Stalin decided to act The Ogpu, strangely enough, had
always taken a measure of pride in reforming children, and
had actually succeeded in regenerating quite a handful from
among the millions cast loose by the Bolshevik Revolution
and the Civil War. But with this fresh crops of waifs, Stalin
decided upon a new course.
On April 8, 1935, Izvestfa published an official decree of
the Soviet government, signed by President Kalinin and
Premier Molotov, entitled: "Measures to Combat Crime
among Minors.'* This decree extended the death penalty to
children above the age of twelve for offenses ranging from
petty larcency to treason. Armed with this terrible weapon,
the Ogpu rounded up hundreds of thousands of young chil-
dren and condemned them to concentration camps, to labor
gangs and in many cases to execution.
It was just when these horrors were taking place that
Stalin emerged from his semi-monastical isolation and began
to pose before cameras as the godfather of Russia's little chil-
dren. We began for the first time to see photographs of him
mingling with them in their playgrounds. He was shown
178
escorting a twelve-year-old girl to the parade in Red Square,
borrowing carfare for her from War Commissar Voroshilov.
Again, he was receiving gifts from a pretty child who came
from distant Turkestan, the champion cotton picker of her
district, to receive the Order of Lenin and a gold watch and
a kiss from the "Father of Nations." I am not speaking
ironically, but stating dreadful facts.
This camouflage was employed deliberately during these
most terrible months when the Ogpu was blotting out the
lives of twelve-, thirteen- and fourteen-year-old children on
official charges of being "traitors, spies, Trotskyists, Fascists,
agents of Hitler and the Mikado."
Not until February, 1939 did the world get an inkling of
this, the most frightful purge of all. By then the time had
come, as it always does, to find a few scapegoats minor Ogpu
functionaries whose only crime was that they obeyed orders.
The local Ogpu prosecutor in Leninsk-Kuznetsk and sev-
eral of his assistants were chosen for this function. From the
provincial courtroom in this village in the Urals the outside
world learned that ten-year-old boys had been tortured into
confessing "counter-revolutionary, Fascist, terrorist** activ-
ities. It learned that one hundred and sixty school children
had been crowded into cells with common criminals, where
they slept without bedding and were subjected to eight
months of incessant night-time cross-examination. The tor-
turers of these children received prison sentences of from
five to ten years. But the decree of April 8, 1935 has never
been repealed, and the number of its victims similarly tor-
tured, or even more summarily disposed of, aH over the coun-
try since 1935 has never been, and never can be estimated.
All that is officially knovra from the admission of the Soviet
government, is that in the town of Leninsk-Kuznetsk, which
is but a pin point on the map of the Union of Soviet Socialist
179
Republics, one hundred and sixty school children were sub-
jected by the Ogpu to medieval tortures under a law formu-
lated by Stalin, while Stalin was being photographed smiling
benignly among his godchildren.
Thus it is that Stalin, through his Ogpu, remains attached
to his mother, the people, who bore and nurtured him.
180
VI. Why Did They Confess?
LENIN,
I, the founder o the Soviet government, had warned
his followers against applying the death penalty to members
of the ruling Bolshevik Party. He invoked the fatal example
of the French Revolution, which had devoured its own chil-
dren, the Jacobins. For fifteen years the Soviet power plain-
tained inviolate this exhortation of Lenin. Bolshevist heretics
were subject to expulsion from the party, to imprisonment,
to exile, to loss of job or livelihood. But the inrvfcritten law
was that no party member could be put to death for political
offenses.
In the spring of 1931 at a special meeting of the supreme
Political Bureau, Stalin came out in favor of capital punish-
ment for Bolshevik party members. The meeting had been
called to consider the case of a new opposition group formed
by one of the leaders of the Moscow party machine, Riutin.
By this time the consequences of Stalin's drive to collec-
tivize the peasants had begun to assume the aspects of a
national catastrophe. Hunger was stalking the most produc-
tive areas of the land. There were peasant uprisings. There
was disaffection in the army. Economic disaster stared the
nation in the face. Stalin's party machine was beginning to
crack. More and more, new Bolshevik opposition groups
raised their heads and voices, reflecting the unrest Hey
clamored for a change of policy and of the leadership in the
Kremlin.
181
The Riutin group was arrested by the Ogpu and the inner
circle in Moscow was buzzing with the case. The secretary
of the party unit in the Military Intelligence Department, to
which I belonged, asked me to attend a secret meeting at
which our chief, General Berzin, was to report on the Riutin
affair. The secretary informed me that not all the members
of the unit were invited to this meeting, as the matter was
exceptionally confidential.
Berzin read to us excerpts from Riutin's clandestine pro-
gram, in which Stalin was described as the "great agent
provocateur, the destroyer of the party/' and as "the grave-
digger of the revolution and of Russia." The Riutin group
undertook to fight for the overthrow of Stalin as the leader
of the party and the government.
This was the occasion for Stalin's attempt to reverse Lenin's
policy of exempting Bolsheviks from the death penalty. Stalin
wanted to deal summarily with Riutin and his adherents.
Only one member of the Politbureau mustered enough cour-
age to oppose Stalin on this crucial question. Everybody on
the inside understood that that one man was Sergei Kirov,
the secretary of the Leningrad party machine. As boss of
the former capital, Kirov held a commanding position. He
was supported, of course, by Bukharin and other opposi-
tionists who still had influence. And Stalin yielded this time.
Riutin and his associates were jailed and exiled, but not shot
For the next five years Stalin managed by such means to
maintain his power. But during those years discontent and
rebellion in the country were spreading like wildfire. Bewil-
dered and enraged by his campaign for "complete collec-
tivization," the peasants were fighting the Ogpu troops with
arms in their hands. In this struggle whole provinces were
laid waste, millions of peasants were deported, hundreds of
thousands were conscripted to forced labor. Only the noise
182
of party propaganda drowned the shots of the firing squads.
The misery and hunger of the masses were so great that their
resentment against Stalin infected the rank and file of the
party. By the end of 1933, Stalin was compelled to institute
a "cleansing" of the party. During the next two years, approxi-
mately a million Bolshevik oppositionists were expelled. But
that did not solve the problem, for these oppositionists were
still at large, and they had the sympathy of the masses of
the population. Given leaders and a program, they could,
at this time, have overthrown Stalin. There were no such
leaders except among the Bolshevik Old Guard, the col-
leagues of Lenin, whom Stalin had been breaking down for
years by compelling them to capitulate, "confess their mis-
takes," and acknowledge him as the "infallible leader."
Notwithstanding these capitulations, which had been re-
peated until nobody believed in them, and notwithstanding
their own reluctance, these old Bolsheviks became, almost
against their will, the spokesmen and figureheads, even if
not the leaders, of this inchoate opposition from outside the
party. Stalin could not be certain that these forces, former
party members who knew the workings of the machine,
might not coalesce in the near future. Capitulations were no
good any longer. Stalin realized that other means must be
found. He must find a way not only to destroy the authority
of the Old Guard, but to stop the activities of all the key men
in this menacing opposition.
Just in the nick of time occurred Hitler's blood purge of
the night of June 30, 1934. Statin was profoundly impressed
by the manner in which Hitler exterminated his opposition,
and studied minutely every secret report from our agents in
Germany relating to the events of that nigjht
On December 1, 1934, Sergei Kirov was assassinated in
Leningrad under mysterious circumstances. That very day
183
Stalin promulgated an extraordinary decree which modified
the penal law, making all cases of political assassination sub-
ject to trial within ten days by military tribunals, in secret,
without counsel, to be followed by immediate execution,
and denying to the President of the Soviet Union the power
of pardon*
Hitler had shown the way, and the death of Kirov, the
man who had stood in the way of Stalin's introducing the
death penalty for Bolsheviks^ opened the door for Stalin's
great purge. The murder of Kirov was a turning point in
Stalin's career. It ushered in the era of public and secret
trials of the Bolshevist Old Guard, the era of the confessions.
There is hardly another instance in the history of the world
where the assassination of one high functionary led to such
a massacre as followed Kirov's death.
The mystery surrounding that assassination dated from
the previous October when a young Communist by the name
of Leonid Nikolaiev had been arrested in Leningrad by
Kirov's guards on account of his suspicious behavior. They
found a revolver and a diary in the prisoner's brief case.
When he was brought before the deputy chief of the Lenin-
grad Ogpu, Zaporozhets, the prisoner was set free. Zaporo-
zhets made a special trip to Moscow to report this unusual
procedure to Yagoda, then head of the Ogpu.
Two months later, on December first, the same Nikolaiev
shot and killed Kirov. That night Stalin himself left for
Leningrad to take personal charge of the investigation. He
examined Nikolaiev and several of the assassin's associates,
Communist youths who had been arrested also. Nothing like
this had ever happened in the history of the Soviet Union.
That same evening the chief of the Ogpu, Yagoda, also
left Moscow for Leningrad to take over the investigation
in his line of duty. There had already been rumors of a cool-
184
ness between Stalin and Yagoda, but that night marked the
beginning of the open break between them. Stalin endeav-
ored in every way to keep Yagoda from questioning the
assassin and his associates.
A mysterious accident befell Yagoda while Stalin was stifl
in Leningrad. While being driven in his automobile at night,
bound for a suburb where he expected to interrogate some
suspects connected with the Kirov affair, a truck crashed in
a suspicious manner into Yagoda's car. The chief of the Ogpu
had the narrowest of escapes, but came out alive from die
wreck. In the Ogpu circles in Moscow there was a lot of talk
about the "accident*
Very early in the investigation a suspicion arose that
Nikolaiev had committed the crime with the direct complic-
ity of the Leningrad Ogpu. The investigation, however, made
no effort to clarify this question. Stalin did not give orders
for a ruthless examination of the Leningrad Ogpu, who two
months before had released this man when arrested with a
revolver. Twelve of the higher Ogpu officials, including the
chief Medved, were arrested for negligence and given prison
sentences varying from two to ten years, but this was not
serious. MeSved received a sentence of three years. That
was in the spring of 1935. A little over two years later I saw
Medved in Moscow enjoying full freedom. Both he and his
aide, Zaporozhets, had been released by Stalin before the
expiration of their terms.
Still, there has never been any explanation of the mys-
tery of Nikolaiev. At the last of the great "treason trials,'*
staged in March, 1938, in which Yagoda figured as one of
the main "confessors," the matter of Nikolaiev's first arrest
and inexplicable release was brought out in open court But
Prosecutor Vyshinsky cut Yagoda short every time the latter
tried to discuss it *lt was not like that," Yagoda observed
185
several times when Vyshinsky purported to quote from the
secret confession of Yagoda himself. No reference was made
to Statin's part in the investigation. No explanation has ever
been given why Stalin was satisfied with the strange action
of Medved and Zaporozhets in releasing Nikolaiev when
seized with a revolver and a political diary.
Nikolaiev's diary was obviously a central factor in the
Kirov affair. It was referred to again and again in the Soviet
press when Nikolaiev and sixteen of his comrades, all mem-
bers of the Communist Youth, were executed after a secret
trial. It was alluded to on numerous other occasions. But no
word of it has ever reached the public.
In the inner circle of the Ogpu, the atmosphere surround-
ing the Kirov affair was one of special mystery and gloom.
Even the most intimate comrades at the Lubianka head-
quarters avoided discussing the subject. One day I put the
matter up directly to Sloutski, chief of the Foreign Division
of the Ogpu, and asked Trim whether in his opinion the
Leningrad secret police were implicated in the assassination
of Kirov. He replied:
'This case is so shady, you understand, that in general it is
best not to pry into it. Just keep as far away from it as
you can."
The Kirov case proved as useful to Stalin as the Reichstag
fire had to Hitler. Both marked the onset of tidal waves of
terror. It is not so easy to solve the riddle, "Who killed
Kirov?" as to answer the question, << Who set the Reichstag
on fire?" Besides Stalin, there are probably no more than
three or four people alive who could solve the Kirov murder
mystery. One of them is Yezhov, die successor of Yagoda
and organizer of the great purge, who himself disappeared
from the scene early in 1939, Stalin eventually may become
the sole guardian of all the facts in the Kirov affair.
186
One fact is indisputable: the Kirov assassination gave
Stalin his wished-f or opportunity to introduce the death pen-
alty for Bolsheviks. Instead of investigating the real mystery
in the shooting of Kirov, Stalin made Kirov's death a pretext
for arresting the most eminent leaders of the Bolshevik Old
Guard, beginning with Kamenev and Zinoviev, and for intro-
ducing the death penalty for Bolsheviks. He could now begin
on the systematic extermination of all who, sharing with him
the mantle of Lenin and the traditions of the October revo-
lution, provided a standard around which the discontented
and rebellious masses might rally.
I should say that, at this time, not only the immense mass
of the peasants but the majority of the army, including its
best generals, a majority of the commissars, 90 per cent of
the directors of factories, 90 per cent of the party machine,
were in more or less extreme degree opposed to Stalin's dic-
tatorship* It was not a matter of coughing up a little poison.
The entire Soviet structure had to be overhauled. How to
do it? Discredit, besmirch, brand with treason and shoot the
Bolshevik Old Guard, and make wholesale arrests of their
followers* Call them * c Trotskyi$ts, Bukharinists, Zinovievists,
saboteurs, wreckers, diversionists, German agents, Japanese
agents, British agents/* Call them what you will, but arrest
as participants in a gigantic treason plot every key man in
the opposition to Stalin's one-man rule described by its de-
fenders as the "party line*** That was what Had to be done,
and Stalin had now an established method for doing it the
method of show trials with their well-rehearsed confessions.
He had staged many such trials before, and the world had
wondered at them but never before with Bolshevik leaders
as the actors and victims.
The Western world never quite realized that Soviet show
trials were no trials at aH, and w r ere nothing but weapons of
187
political warfare. No one in die inner Soviet circle, since the
advent of Stalin, has regarded a show trial with its dramatic
confessions as anything but a political device, or thought of
it as having any relation whatsoever to the administration
of justice. Whenever the Bolshevik political machine faced a
crisis, it offered the people a batch of scapegoats at a show
trial. These trials had no more to do with justice than with
mercy.
True enough, there were those in the Soviet government
who cautioned Stalin against staging show trials of the Bol-
shevik Old Guard not only because of the effect on the
country, but because they might alienate the pro-Soviet forces
abroad. Stalin insisted that the country would stand for it,
and contemptuously dismissed the latter objection with the
remark: "Europe will swallow it all!"
But Stalin did not go about his purge the way Hitler had.
Hitler faced an organized and challenging opposition, and
struck with lightning speed. Stalin had no such opposition;
he was facing a profound and general mood of rebellion. His
task was to cut down all potential leaders of any possible
movement to unseat him. For that reason Stalin took his time.
He moved toward his goal inch by inch, making sure at
each step that he had aimed forces to rely upon.
Stalin did not trust the old Ogpu, nor did he trust the old
leadership of the Red Army. With the aid of Yezhov, who
as head of the party's Bureau of Appointments, dispensed aH
patronage from the Central Committee, Stalin built another
Ogpu machine, especially for himself, a kind of super-
terrorist legion. When Yezhov was finally ordered by Stalin
to take command of the regular police forces of the country,
he shot all except one of the veteran chiefs in the Ogpu, and
installed this new legion.
The exception was Mikhail Frinovsky, long a special pet
188
of Stalin's, and commander-in-chief of the army of the Ogpu.
This independent army, not directly under the control of the
Red Army, together with the secret police itself, were the
two aimed forces upon which Stalin relied in his action
against the Old Guard. He did not act until he had completed,
through Yezhov and Frinovsky, the preparation of these two
indispensable weapons.
When these preparations were made, with tie Kirov assas-
sination and the new treason law behind him, Stalin entered
upon his task of exterminating the Bolshevik Old Guard, and
therewith crushing the opposition to his rule in every corner
of the land. Whole batches of political prisoners had already
been executed as implicated in the murder of Kirov. Tens of
thousands of Communist Youth had been deported and im-
pressed into penal labor brigades. This wholesale retribution
exacted by Stalin for the death of Kirov did not prevent hfm
from using the same crime over and over again in his indict-
ments of the Old Guaid. In all, some two hundred people
have been shot for the murder of Kirov. This crime figured
most prominently in the three spectacular show trials for
"treason" which opened in August, 1936. That these trials
had nothing to do with the normal processes of justice, ap-
pears from the fact that none of the evidence from the secret
trial of the Kirov assassins was produced in court For the
same reason the Bolshevik leaders in all the three "treason
trials* renounced the right of counsel And that is also the
reason why it did not matter to Stalin that the "confessions*
made by the victims were often in blatant contradiction to
known facts. For instance, some of those who confessed to
the plotting of Kirov's death had been in solitary confinement
for several years before his assassination.
How were the confessions obtained? Nothing has so tan-
talized the Western mind as this question. A bewildered
189
world watched the builders of the Soviet government flagel-
late themselves for crimes which they never could have com-
mitted, and which have been proved to be fantastic lies.
Ever since, the riddle of the confessions has puzzled the
Western world. But the confessions never presented a riddle
to those of us who had been on the inside of the Stalin
machine.
Although several factors contributed to bringing the men
to the point of making these confessions, they made them at
the last in the sincere conviction that this was their sole
remaining service to the party and the revolution. They sacri-
ficed honor as well as life to defend the hated regime of
Stalin, because it contained the last faint gleam of hope for
that better world to which they had consecrated themselves
in early youth. Stalin still used the magic words, Socialist,
proletarian, revolutionary, and by some hook or crook social-
ism might still emerge out of his bloody and monstrous
tyranny.
If it seems surprising that idealistic men who hated a
leader and opposed his policies, could be brought to such a
condition, it is because you do not realize what can be done
to a man once he falls into the skilled hands of the "examin-
ers* of the Ogpu.
In May, 1937, at the crest of the great purge, I had occa-
sion to talk with one of these examining prosecutors, the
young Kedrov, then engaged in the extortion of confessions.
The conversation was on Nazi police methods, and it soon
turned to the fate of the Nobel prize winner for peace, the
renowned German pacifist, Carl von Ossietzky, then a captive
of Hitler's, wlio died in 1938. Kedrov spoke up in a manner
which brooked no contradiction:
"Ossietzky may have been a good man before his arrest,
190
but this Gestapo has him in its vise, and he is now one of
their agents."
I attempted to argue with Kedrov, and tried to explain to
him the nature and qualities of the man under discussion*
Kedrov brushed aside my arguments:
"You don't know what can be made of a human being
when you have him completely in your hands. We've had
dealings here with all kinds, even with the most dauntless of
men, and nevertheless we broke them down and made what
we wanted of them!"
The real wonder is that, despite their broken condition and
the monstrous forms of pressure exerted by the Ogpu on
Statin's political opponents, so few did confess. For every one
of the fifty-four prisoners who figured in the three "treason
trials/* at least one hundred were shot without being broken
down.
Altogether there were six batches of major Bolshevik
leaders executed by Stalin; only three of these batches could
be hammered into self-accusing exhibitors at show trials.
The three other groups were "tried in secret** according to
the official announcements. But these announcements gave
no word of the indictments or of the records of the alleged
trials.
The personal factors which reduced these Old Bolsheviks
to such a condition of bewilderment and despair that they
could be persuaded it was their duty to make false confes-
sions are four in number. And afl these four factors probably
had their effect on each one of the victims, although in vary-
ing proportions.
First in importance was the operation of the Ogpu mill
of physical and mental torture, which in their already demor-
alized condition they were not able to endure. This Third
Degree, improved by Stalin cm the model of the latest
191
American methods of mass production, had actually become
known among us as the "conveyor system** of examining pris-
oners. This system put the victim through a chain of ques-
tioners ranging from coarse novices to skilled craftsmen in
the art of securing confessions.
A second element which entered into the production of
the confessions was drawn from Stalin's secret cabinet. Here
were gathered reports from his private espionage service
covering the public and personal, the political and domestic
doings of all the leading figures over a period of many years.
This cabinet became an arsenal of compromising and black-
mailing evidence, true and false, against all possible oppo-
nents of Stalin's rule.
A third element in the preparation of the show trials was
of the conventional frame-up variety. Agents provocateurs,
equipped with ready-made confessions of alleged* conspira-
cies, were introduced into the prisons for the sordid role of
implicating their more conspicuous fellow-actors. These
played the parts of incriminating "witnesses'* and "accom-
plices** against the chief men marked by Stalin, making them
realize that any attempt to defend themselves would be
hopeless.
The fourth and by no means least important factor in
producing the confessions came from deals negotiated be-
tween Stalin and certain of his pivotal prisoners. It may seem
surprising to the Western mind that there should be barters
in human lives between a lord high executioner and his
trapped victims. We of the inner Bolshevik circle always
took such negotiations as a matter of course. Certain of the
family, the friends, even the less conspicuous political fol-
lowers, of the victims would be spared, if they would through
their "confessions** help to implicate the key men, and make
a general clean-up possible.
192
Before describing what we called the "conveyor system*
for securing confessions, I want to say something about the
second factor mentioned above Stalin's method of terroriz-
ing his political opponents and reducing them to despair
through his network of super-espionage. Hiis network had
even infiltrated the headquarters of the Ogpu and the Gen-
eral Staff of the Red Army. The Stalin spies spied upon every-
body. Thus, more than five years before the arrests and
executions of the top-ranking generals of the Red Army, and
long before the rise of Hitler, one of Stalin's toys" suddenly
appeared at the headquarters of the War Department to take
charge of the Intelligence Service. His mission was to spy
first of all on War Commissar Voroshilov. For several months
he opened daily the mail of Voroshilov, a member of the
supreme Politbureau, and had a selection of it photostated
for Stalin's private files.
The agents of Stalin's secret cabinet spied upon the former
opposition leaders, whether these were in jail or still in high
office. They were gathering "evidence" for all eventualities.
The entire Bolshevik Old Guard was constantly watched by
a veritable army of inf onners and stool pigeons. An indiscreet
remark was sufficient to make a case of heresy against the
speaker. A spell of silence at the wrong occasion when, for
instance, everybody was offering praise to Stalin, was enough
to justify suspicions of disloyalty.
The crushing effect of this hounding was brought home to
me in the case of Alexei Rykov, one of the leading figures
in the third show trial I saw him under circumstances which
left no doubt as to his doom. In November, 1932, 1 was at
the Caucasian watering resort of Kislovodsk, stopping at the
sanatorium TDesiatiletie Oktiabria," reserved for high party
and government officials. Rykov was in Kislovodsk with his
wife, living apart in a bungalow.
193
Lenin's successor as president of the Council o Commis-
sars, Rykov was one of the founders of the Bolshevik Party
and one of the fathers of the Soviet Revolution. He was the
first president, under Lenin and Trotsky, of the Supreme
Economic Council of the Soviet Union. As an opponent of
Stalin's collectivization drive, he had been reduced in rank.
When I met him, however, he was still a member of the
Cabinet, holding the office of Commissar of Posts and Com-
munications. What is more important, he was still officially
listed as a member of our highest legislative body, the Central
Committee of the Bolshevik Party.
I often saw Rykov while taking walks. When he was not
with his wife, he was alone. None of the party and govern-
ment officials would be seen in his company. Often there
would be a waiting line in front of tihe baths in our sana-
torium. It was customary for the younger men to turn over
their places to the senior leaders. This was never done for
Rykov. Yet nominally he held the highest rank of any of the
guests at Kislovodsk at that time. No one spoke to him while
he waited for his bath. Everybody tried to keep as far away
from him as possible. In the inner party circles, Rykov was
already a political corpse.
Came the Soviet anniversary date of November seventh. A
festival was arranged for that evening at the hall of the
sanatorium. There were speeches hailing Stalin as the "leader
of nations," the "genius of geniuses of the workers of the
world/' There was plenty of drinking. The atmosphere be-
came quite gay by midnight Suddenly one of the comrades
at my table exclaimed sneeringly:
TLook, there's Rykov!"
Carelessly dressed as usual, Rykov entered shyly, a forced
smile on his handsome face. His clothes were baggy, his
194
necktie awry, his hair disheveled; his large dark eyes looked
at the gay crowd as if through a mist. It was as though a
ghost had suddenly appeared, a ghost from the heroic period
of the revolution which was being commemorated in this
hall. But it was a living ghost.
The sneer of my neighbor was soon taken up by others.
The festive bureaucrats loudly exchanged mocking remarks
at the expense of Rykov. No one invited him to sit down at
a table. The master of ceremonies, dashing from one table
to another, paid no attention to Rykov. After a while a few
of the 100 per cent Stalinists came up to him and began to
rib him. One of these was the **boss** of the party machine
in the Donetz coal basin. He bragged of the coal production
figures in his region, and threw it up to Rykov:
"See, we are doing things* \Ve are building socialism. How
long will you and your kind continue to stir up trouble in
thepartyr
Rykov failed to find the proper answer to this stereotyped
line from the Kremlin. He said something noncommittal,
and tried to lead the conversation on to another subject It
was dear that he was seeking to find a point of contact, to
strike some note of understanding between him ancl the
gathering. I joined the little group around him. There were
many in the hall who would have liked to have a good talk
with Rykov, but dared not. That would have marked one as
an Oppositionist, an enemy of Stalin. The conversation did
not catch on. Rykov, who had been leaning against the wall,
was offered neither a chair nor a drink He departed as he
came, alone. He continued to hover in the shadows for sev-
eral years until Stalin needed his blood. Then he came into
the limelight with an obviously impossible ^confession."
I can speak of the factor of physical torture from a first-
hand report. I knew personally one prisoner who was kept
195
standing during his examinations, with brief interruptions,
for a total of fifty-five hours under glaring and blinding lights.
This was perhaps the commonest form of the third degree.
I had occasion to discuss with a high official of the Ogpu
the rumors current abroad that peculiar forms of torture were
being secretly used to extort confessions. He remarked to
me, after dismissing the reports as fantastic:
'Wouldn't you confess if you were kept standing on one
foot for ten hours at a stretch?"
This method was practiced upon Bela Kun, the head of
the short-lived Soviet republic of Hungary, who had sought
refuge in Russia and become one of the leaders of the
Comintern. This internationally known revolutionary figure
was arrested by Stalin in May, 1937, as a "Gestapo spy."
Bela Kun was lodged in the Butirky Prison in Moscow, as
there was no available space at the Lubianka headquarters
of the Ogpu. He shared a cell with 140 other prisoners,
among them such outstanding leaders as MukLevitch, the
commander of the naval forces of the Soviet Union. Bela
Kun, when taken out for examination, would be kept away
from the cell for longer periods than any other prisoner. He
was given the "standing* test for periods ranging from ten to
twenty hours, until he collapsed. When brought back to the
cell, his legs would be so swollen that he could not stand.
After every examination, his condition grew worse. His face
upon his return to the cell would be so black that the other
inmates had difficulty in recognizing him. The keepers
treated Bela Kun with special brutality.
The cell in itself was a torture chamber. It had two tiers
of boards, one above the other, on which the prisoners lay
or slept. The space was so overcrowded that the men could
not stretch out; they all had to sleep on their sides with their
legs doubled up, one body dose to the other. Otherwise afl
196
the prisoners could not be accommodated. The starasta or
prisoners* monitor of the cell, had to give orders to the entire
group on a tier to change positions whenever one of the men
had to turn over or get up. There was no room in the cell
for walking.
Bela Kun did not confess. Neither did Muklevitch. Xor did
Knorin, another of the inmates, formerly a member of the
Central Committee of the Bolshevik Party, although the lat-
ter was made to stand for twenty hours at a time.
This form of torture was part of the first stage of the "con-
veyor system 77 of examination. In charge of this stage were
young, rough and ignorant examining prosecutors. These
were the Yezhov boys. They would begin their examination
with a blunt command to the prisoner, after he was told to
stand tinder the lights:
"Confess that you are a spy! 9 *
"But it's not true/*
**We know it's true. We have the evidence. Confess, you
so-and-so!" There would follow a shower of curses, obscene
vituperation, and threats. When the prisoner held his ground,
the examiner would lie down on his couch, and leave the
prisoner standing for hours. When the examiner had to leave
the office, the prisoner was watched by a guard who saw to
it that he should not sit down or lean against a wall or table
or chair.
Whenever the "standing* punishment failed to break down
the marked victim, the case would be transferred to a senior
and more adroit examiner who employed refined methods.
Here there was no toying with loaded guns, no insults, no
lights, no physical pressure. Quite the opposite, everything
would be done to make the prisoner feel that the first stage
had all been a mistake, an unfortunate experience. An atmos-
phere of ease and informality would be introduced Hie
197
examination of Mrachkovsky was characteristic of this stage
in the "conveyor system." The record of this examination is
perhaps the only document of its kind available outside of
the Soviet Union,
Mrachkovsky had been a member of the Bolshevik Party
since 1905. He was the son of a revolutionist exiled to Siberia
by the Czar. He himself had been arrested many times by
the Czarist police. During the civil war, after the Soviet
Revolution, Mrachkovsky organized in the Urals a volunteer
corps which performed wonderful feats in defeating the
counter-revolutionary armies of Admiral Kolchak. He ac-
quired the reputation of an almost legendary hero in the
period of Lenin and Trotsky.
By June, 1935, all the preparations for the first show trial
had been completed. The confessions of fourteen prisoners
had been secured. The leading characters, Zinoviev and
Kamenev, had been cast for their roles and had rehearsed
their lines. But there were two men in this batch of marked
victims who had failed to come across with their confessions.
One of these was Mrachkovsky. The other was his colleague
Ivan N. Smirnov, a founder of the Bolshevik Party, leader of
the Fifth Army during the civil war.
Stalin did not want to proceed to the trial without these
two men. They had been grilled for months, they had been
subjected to all the physical third degree practices of the
Ogpu, but still refused to sign confessions. The chief of the
Ogpu suddenly called upon my comrade, Sloutski, to take
over the interrogation of Mrachkovsky, and to "break down"
this man for whom Sloutski had, as it chanced, a profound
respect. Both of us wept when Sloutski told me of his experi-
ence as an inquisitor.
**I began the examination cleanly shaven,** he said. **Wh0n
I had finished it, I had grown a beard. The examination
198
lasted ninety hours. Every couple of hours there would be
a telephone call from Statin's office. His secretary's voice
would inquire pitilessly: *Well, have you broken Kin* down?* **
"You don't mean to say that you remained in your office
without leaving it during all that time?** I asked
"No, after the first ten hours I went out for a short spell,
but my secretary substituted for me. During the ninety hours
of our examination Mrachkovsky was not left alone for a
single minute. He was accompanied by a guard even when
he went to the lavatory.
"When he was first led into my office, I saw that he limped
heavily from the effects of a leg wound he had received in
the civil war. I offered him a chair. He sat down. I opened
the examination with the words: *You see, Comrade Mrach-
kovsky, I have received orders to question you.* *
Mrachkovsky replied: "I have nothing to say. In general I
do not want to enter into any conversations with you. Your
land are much worse than any gendarmes of the Czar. Sup-
pose you tell me what right you have to question me. Where
were you in the revolution? Somehow I do not recall ever
hearing of you in the days of the revolutionary war.**
Mrachkovsky caught sight of two Orders of the Red Ban-
ner which Sloutski was wearing, and continued:
1 never saw your type at the front As for those decora-
tions, you must have stolen them! 1 *
Sloutski kept silent He gave his prisoner an opportunity
to pour out his bitterness. Mracbkovsky went on:
'Tou have addressed me as Comrade* Only yesterday I
was examined by another one of you* stripe, He used differ-
ent methods. He cafled me a reptile and a counter-revolu-
tionist. He tried rough stuff on me. Yet I was born in a
Czarist prison. My ather died in eadle in Siberia, My mother
199
there, too* I joined the revolutionary movement and the
Bolshevik Party when I was almost a child.**
At this point Mrachkovsky rose, and with one swift motion
removed his shirt and exposed the scars of the wounds he
had received in battles for the Soviet regime.
"Here are my decorations!" he exclaimed.
Sloutski continued his silence. He had tea brought in, and
offered the prisoner a gkss and some cigarettes. Mrachkovsky
seized the glass and the ashtray which was put before him,
threw them on the floor, and shouted:
"So you want to bribe me? You can tell Stalin that I loathe
him. He is a traitor. They took me to Molotov [the Soviet
Premier] who also wanted to bribe me. I spat in his face."
Sloutski finally spoke up:
**No, Comrade Mrachkovsky, I did not steal the Orders of
the Red Banner. I received them in the Red Army, on the
Tashkent front, where I fought under your command. I
never considered you a reptile and do not regard you as one
even now. But you have opposed and fought against the
party? Of course you have. Well, the party has now com-
manded me to question you. And as for those wounds, look
at this." And Sloutski bared part of his body, exhibiting his
own war scars.
"These, too, came from the civil war," he added. Mrach-
kovsky listened, pondered, and then said:
"I don't believe you. Prove it to me."
Sloutski ordered that his official biographical sketch be
brought from the files of the Ogpu. He gave it to Mrachkov-
sky to read. Then he said:
**I was connected with the revolutionary tribunal after the
civil war. Later the party switched me to the Ogpu adminis-
tration. I am now only doing my assignment, carrying out
200
orders. If the party orders me to die, I shall go to my death.**
( Sloutski did exactly that when, eighteen months later, it was
announced that he had committed suicide.)
"No, you have degenerated into a police hound, into a
regular Okhrana agent," broke in Mrachkovsky. Then he
stopped, hesitated, and continued: "And yet, apparently, all
of the soul has not yet gone out of you.**
For the first time Sloutski felt that some spark of under-
standing had been generated between him and Mrachkovsky.
He began to talk about the internal and international situa-
tions of the Soviet government, of the perils from within and
without, of the enemies within the party undermining the
Soviet power, of the need to save the party at all costs as the
only savior of the revolution.
"I told him," Sloutski reported to me, "that I was person-
ally convinced that he, Mrachkovsky, was not a counter-
revolutionist. I took from my desk the confessions of his
imprisoned comrades, and showed them to him as evidence
of how low they had fallen in their opposition to the Soviet
system.
TFor three full days and nights we talked and argued*
During all this time Mrachkovsky did not sleep a wink*
Altogether I snatched about three to four hours of sleep
during this whole period of my wrestling with him.**
Mrachkovsky told Sloutski that he had been taken out of
prison twice to see Stalin. The first time he was brought to
the Kremlin he ran into Premier Molotov in Stalin's reception
room. Molotov offered Mracbkovsky this piece of advice:
*You are going to see him. Be frank with him, my dear
Sergei. Hide nothing* Otherwise you wifl end before the
firing squad*
Stalin fcept Mrachkovsky the greater part of tie night,
201
urging his prisoner to disavow all opposition views. Stalin
argued that the country was full of disrupting elements
which threatened the life of the Bolshevist dictatorship. It
was necessary for all the party leaders to show the country
that there was only one course open, the course of Stalin.
Mrachkovsky did not yield, and was taken back to his cell.
The second time Mrachkovsky was taken to the Kremlin,
Stalin held out inducements to him if he would toe the line.
"If you cooperate to the limit/* Stalin promised, "I will
send you to the Urals to take charge of our industry there.
You will become a director. You will be doing big things, yet"
Mrachkovsky again refused to do Stalin's bidding. It was
then that Sloutski was given the task of breaking him down
in preparation for a show trial.
There followed days and nights of argument which brought
Mrachkovsky to the realization that nobody else but Stalin
could guide the Bolshevik Party. Mrachkovsky was a firm
believer in the one-party system of government, and he had
to admit that there was no Bolshevik group strong enough
to reform the party machine from within, or to overthrow
Stalin's leadership. True, there was deep discontent in the
country, but to deal with it outside of the Bolshevist ranks
would mean the end of the proletarian dictatorship to which
Mrachkovsky was loyal.
Both the prosecuting examiner and his prisoner agreed that
all Bolsheviks must submit their will and their ideas to the
will and ideas of the party. They agreed that one had to
remain within the party even unto death, or dishonor, or
death with dishonor, if it became necessary for the sake of
consolidating the Soviet power. It was for the party to show
the confessors consideration for their acts of self-sacrifice, if
it chose.
909.
"I brought him to the point where he began to weep,"
Sloutski reported to me. "I wept with him when we arrived
at the conclusion that all was lost, that there was nothing
left in the way of hope or faith, that the only thing to do
was to make a desperate effort to forestall a futile struggle
on the part of the discontented masses. For this the gov-
ernment must have public 'confessions* by the opposition
leaders."
Mrachkovsky asked that he be allowed to have an audience
with Ivan Smirnov, his intimate colleague. Sloutski had
Smimov brought from his cell, and the meeting of the two
men took place in his office. Let Sloutski describe it:
"It w r as a painfully disturbing scene* The two heroes of
the revolution fell on each other's necks. Hiev cried. Mrach-
<0
kovsky said to Smirnov; c lvan Xilatich, let us give them
what they want. It has to be done.* Smirnov disagreed, and
answered: 1 have nothing to confess to. I never fought
against the Soviet power. I never fought against the party.
I was never a terrorist. And I never tried to murder anyone.* *
Mrachkovsky attempted to persuade Smimov, but the
latter would not yield. All the while the two men kept em-
bracing each other and weeping. Finally Smirnov was led
away.
^Mrachkovsky once more became recalcitrant and irri-
table,'* said SloutskL "He began to curse Stalin again as a
traitor. But by the end of the fourth day, he signed the whole
confession made by him at the public trial
"I went home. For a whole week I was unfit for any worib
I was unfit to live***
It remains to be added here that after Mrachkovsky had
turned in his confession to the Ogpu, it broke the resistance
of Ivan Smirnov who followed in the footsteps of his com-
rade. Yet Smirnov in the first public trial did make several
203
attempts to repudiate his confession. He was cut short each
time by the prosecutor.
When these methods failed to break down a prisoner or
"split" him, to use the term commonly employed in the
Ogpu resort would frequently be made to a personal inter-
view with Stalin, in which some bargain would be struck.
I know that Kamenev and Zinoviev, Lenin's closest col-
laborators, had such audiences with Stalin some months
before they were put on trial. Zinoviev bowed to Stalin's
demand. As a member of his family later put it, two reasons
guided Zinoviev in agreeing to the confession: "First, there
was no other way out politically; second, he hoped to save
his family from persecution/* Kamenev, too, feared reprisals
on his wife and three children, as his plea in court revealed.
It is an established practice of Stalin's to punish the family
of a man accused of a political crime. Indeed they are held
guilty according to the present Soviet criminal code.
Karl Radek, one of the leading figures in the second show
trial, refused to answer the young examiner, Kedrov, as-
signed to put him through the "conveyor system." When
Kedrov failed by his insults to get anywhere with his prisoner,
a brilliant publicist, they took him to Stalin. When he returned
from the Kremlin, Radek was in an altogether different mood.
He and Stalin had reached an understanding. Radek knew
what the "big boss" wanted. It was the prisoner who now
took over the Job of drafting his own confession.
"You can go to sleep, Kedrov. Ill do the rest. 9 *
And from then on Radek conducted the investigation
against himself.
A light is shed on the "confessions" made by three of
Stalin's most eminent victims by the parts they played at a
meeting in the Kremlin just one year before. The occasion
was a plenary session of the Central Committee of the Com-
munist Party, numbering seventy members. The purge was
then reaching its peak. The country was demoralized The
government was in a state of paralysis. No one knew what
the Tbig boss" was thinking. Not even Stalin's own lieutenants
were sure that their heads would still be on their shoulders
tomorrow.
The seventy high functionaries, haunted by fear and sus-
picion, assembled in the great hall of the Kremlin. They
were ready, at Stalin's order, to fall upon one another to
show their loyalty to the master. The three characters in this
historic drama were Yagoda, Bukharin and Rykov. The de-
posed chief of the Ogpu, Yagoda, hailed so long as the
"avenging sword of the revolution/* was still a free man then.
He was Ryfcov's successor as Commissar of Posts and Com-
munications. He knew, however-everybody knew that he
was a doomed man.
Stalin spoke. He laid down the policy to be followed. The
purge had not gone far enough. Heresy and treason had not
been sufficiently rooted out. More trials were needed. More
victims had to be found. There would be advancement for
those who caught the hint Fear and cunning was written on
the faces of the seventy men. Who amongst them wfll win
in the scramble for the master's favor, the scramble for life?
Yagoda listened silently. Many a hateful eye turned upon
him, inspired by Stalin's squinting and malicious look. Soon
a stream of questions and accusations was poured upon
Yagoda from all over the haH. Why did he coddle the
Trotskyfte reptiles? Why did he haibor traitors on his staff?
One tongue vied with another in lashing out at Yagoda's
political corpse. AH wanted to be heard by Stalin, so as to
convince him of their devotion and perhaps escape his fearful
vengeance.
205
Suddenly, with a sepulchral calm, Yagoda turned his head
in the direction of the pack attacking him. He spoke but a
few words, quietly, as if saying them to himself:
"What a pity that I didn't arrest all of you before, when I
had the power."
That was all Yagoda said. A hurricane of mocking words
swept the hall. The seventy howling party chieftains knew
that Yagoda might have had their confessions, had he ar-
rested them six months earlier. Yagoda resumed his mask.
Two prisoners were led into the hall by uniformed Ogpu
agents. One of them was Nikolai Bukharin, former president
of the Communist International. The other was Alexei Rykov,
Lenin's successor as Soviet Premier. Shabbily dressed, wan
and exhausted, they took their seats among the well-clothed
and well-fed Stalinist henchmen, who edged away from them
in confusion and astonishment.
Stalin had staged this appearance before the Central Com-
mittee to prove his "democratic'* treatment of these two great
figures in Soviet history, these founders of the Bolshevik
. Party. But the meeting was now in Stalin's complete control.
Bukharin rose to speak. In a broken voice he assured his
comrades that he had never taken part in a conspiracy
against Stalin or the Soviet government. Resolutely he repudi-
ated the very suspicion of such acts on his part. He wept
He pleaded. It was dear that he and Rykov had hoped to
arouse a spark of the old comradeship in the Central Com-
mittee of the party which they had helped to create. But the
comrades remained prudently silent. They preferred to wait
for Stalin's word. And Stalin spoke, interrupting Bukharin:
"That is not the way revolutionists defend themselves!" he
exclaimed. "If you are innocent you can prove it in a prison
cell!"
206
The assembly burst into wild shouts: "Shoot the traitor!
Back to jail with him!"
Stalin was given an ovation, as Bukharin and Rykov,
broken and weeping, were taken back to the prison by the
Ogpu agents in trim military uniforms.
The two prisoners had misunderstood the occasion. In
Stalin's view, this was their opportunity to demonstrate their
loyalty to the party by confessing their past errors and glori-
fying his leadership. Instead of doing this, they had appealed
over his head to the assembly, attempting to justify them-
selves before their former comrades who were now nothing
but puppets of Stalin.
The behavior of the Central Committee proved to the
prisoners how absolute was the power of Stalin. It strength-
ened their conviction that against Stalin there was no "way
out" Bukharin and Rykov had failed to deal with the dictator
on his own terms, and there were no others. Like Louis XIV,
who said, "The state it is I," Stalin had assumed the position,
"The party it is I" They had consecrated their lives to the
service of the party, and they saw that there was no way
left to serve it and so keep up the illusion that they were
serving the revolution except to do the bidding of Stalin.
That is the basic explanation of the confessions* But all
the other factors I have mentioned played their parts in
bringing fifty-four of these Old Bolsheviks to the point of
so humiliating a service. There is one other factor which I
have not mentioned, because I think it played only a small
role. With most of them it played no role at aE That is the
faint hope that not only their families and their political
followers, but even they themselves might be spared if they
"confessed." On the eve of the first trial, the Kamenev-
Zinoviev case, Stalin had a government decree enacted which
restored the power of pardon and commutation to the Presi-
207
dent of the Soviet Union. This decree was no doubt designed
to suggest to the sixteen men who were about to confess in
public that clemency awaited them. Yet during the trial one
prisoner after another made the statement: "It is not for me
to beg for mercy," "I do not ask for a mitigation of my pun-
ishment/' *1 do not consider it possible to beg for clemency."
In the early hours of the morning of August twenty-fourth
the sixteen men were sentenced to be shot. They immediately
appealed for clemency. The evening of that same day the
Soviet government announced that it had "rejected the ap-
peal for mercy of those condemned'* and that "the verdict has
been executed." Had they made a bargain with Stalin which
he did not keep? More probably they cherished a faint and
wavering hope and that was all.
In the second show trial, that of the Radek-Piatakov-Sokol-
nikov group, Stalin acted as though he were trying to make
sure of more confessions for future trials. He had four of the
seventeen men in this group spared by commutation of sen-
tence. Two of these were leading figures, Radek and Sokolni-
kov; the other two were obscure agents of the Ogpu, planted
as "witnesses" for the purpose of framing the others.
A year kter in June, 1937, eight ranking generals of the
Red Army, led by Tukhachevsky, were executed without any
confessions, after an alleged secret trial. On July 9, 1937, in
Tiflis, the capital of Stalin's native land, seven outstanding
Caucasian Bolsheviks, led by Stalin's former fellow revolu-
tionist, Budu Mdivani, were executed without confessions,
after another alleged secret trial. On December 19, 1937,
still another batch of eight outstanding Bolshevik leaders,
headed by Yenukidze, who had been one of Stalin's mentors
in his youth, and who had held high office in the Soviet
government for eighteen years, were executed without con-
fessions, after a third alleged secret triaL
208
The last "treason trial" to date, the Bukharm-Rykov-Yagoda
case, was staged in March, 1939, and comprised twenty-one
men. It took a year to wrest confessions from them. Three of
this batch received commutation of sentence. The charges
in this show trial ranged from plotting the assassination of
Eirov and the poisoning of Maxim Gorky to being Hitler
spies. The self-vilification of the confessors reached depths
hitherto unplumbed. The world was dumbfounded by the
rivalry between the confessors and the prosecution in assert-
ing the guilt of the accused.
In each trial there was competition among the defendants
in self-vilification, in confessing to more sins and crimes*
Each successive trial increased this seemingly insane pro-
cedure.
A great many people imagine that the victims were trying*
by the fantastic extremes to which they went, to get them-
selves picked for that small group on which Stalin would
confer clemency. It may be that, as they outdid the incom-
parable Prosecutor Vyshinsky in the make-believe, some of
them had that faint hope. But I doubt it, because they aH
knew Stalin. They all knew Stalin's scornful words to his old
colleague Bukharin in that fateful meeting at the Kremlin:
"That is not the way revolutionists defend themselves/*
As an old member of the Bolshevik Party, I believe that,
weakened and tortured into confessions though they had
been, they nevertheless hoped by the very fantastic vehe-
mence of their confessions to make it obvious that these were,
like everything else in the show trials, political acts. They
wanted to make known to the world and to history that, up
to the hour of their death, they were still engaged in a politi-
cal struggle, that they were "ajnfessing" to crimes against
the party in a last desperate effort to be of service to it
Persons to whom I have confided this belief say that it
209
is incomprehensible to the Western mind. Nevertheless, I
am firmly certain of its truth. I knew the quality of the Old
Bolsheviks, their devotion to the cause, their recognition of
the blind alley at which Bolshevism had arrived, their knowl-
edge of Stalin.
210
VII. Why Stalin Shot His Generals
LARLYin the month of December, 1936, while I was at my
headquarters in The Hague, I accidentally came into pos-
session of the key to a master conspiracy, which resulted six
months later in the execution by Stalin of Marshal Tukha-
chevsky and nearly the entire high command of the Bed
Army.
There are conspiracies plotted by men lusting for power or
vengeance, and there are conspiracies plotted by the course
of events. Sometimes the paths of two such conspiracies cross
and interlace. Then the historian finds himself confronted by
tangled skeins which challenge his utmost powers. To this
category belongs the mystery of the annihilation by Stalin
of the flower of the Red Army as spies in the service of the
German government.
It is a mystery which continues to baffle the mind of the
world. Everywhere people still ask these questions:
Why did Stalin behead the Red Army at a time when
Hitler was generally believed to be feverishly preparing for
war? Was there any connection between the Red Army purge
and Stalin's efforts to come to an agreement with Germany?
Was there really a conspiracy on the part of the Red Army
command against Stalin?
It was on June 11, 1937, that the Kremlin announced the
sudden discovery of a conspiracy by the great General Tukba-
211
chevsky and eight of the high commanders of the Red Army
acting in concert with an unfriendly foreign power.
The next day the world was staggered by the execution of
Marshal Tukhachevsky, Chief of Staff of the Red Army, Gen-
eral Yakir, Commander of the Ukrainian Military District,
General Uborevich, Commander of the White Russian Mili-
tary District, General Kork, Head of the Soviet Military
Academy, and Generals Putna, Eidemann, Feldmann and
Primakov, after an alleged secret court-martial. Marshal
Gamarnik, Assistant Commissar of War and Chief of the
Political Department of the Red Army, was reported to have
committed suicide. Of these nine commanding generals sud-
denly exposed as spies of Hitler and the Gestapo, three
Gamarnik, Yakir and Feldmann were Jews.
Long before Stalin "suddenly" discovered a Red Army plot
against his power, I was in possession, without knowing it,
of the principal link in a singular chain of events proving
Stalin himself the conspirator, proving that he plotted for at
least seven months this extermination of the high command
of the Red Army.
When all the pieces of the puzzle of the great Red Army
purge are fitted together, the finished pattern reveals the fol-
lowing facts:
1. Staling scheme to frame Tukhachevsky and the other
generals had been set in motion at least six months before the
alleged discovery of a Red Army conspiracy.
2. Stalin executed Marshal Tukhachevsky and his asso-
ciates as German spies at the very moment when he himself,
after months of secret negotiation, was on the verge of closing
a deal with Hitler.
3. Stalin used fake "evidence 9 * imported from Germany
and manufactured by the Nazi Gestapo in his frame-up of the
most loyal generals of the Red Army.
212
4. This "evidence* was fed to the Ogpu through Czarist
military organizations abroad*
5. Stalin had the chief of the Federation of Czarist Army
Veterans, Gen. Eugene Miller, kidnaped in Paris on Sep-
tember 22, 1937. This bold crime was perpetrated in order to
destroy the one uncontrolled source of information, aside
from the Gestapo itself, as the source of Stalin's "evidence*
against the Red Army chiefs, and the channels through which
it traveled.
It was in the first week of December, 1936, that a courier
anived at The Hague, bringing me an urgent message from
Sloutski, the chief of the Foreign Division of the Ogpu. who
had just reached Paris from Barcelona. I was then in charge
of the Soviet Military Intelligence in Western Europe,
As usual, the message brought by our courier was con-
veyed on a small roll of film taken by a special camera. When
the film was developed, it revealed substantially this message:
^Select from your personnel two men who can impersonate
German officers. They must be impressive enough in appear-
ance to pass for military attaches, must be accustomed to talk
like army men, and must be exceptionally trustworthy and
bold. Assign them to me without delay. This is of extraor-
dinary importance. Expect to see you in Paris in a few days.**
This caB by the Ogpu upon my department annoyed me.
My answer to Sloutski, dispatched through the courier by
return plane, did not conceal my resentment at having to dis-
rupt my staff within Germany by detaching pivotal men
from their posts. I did, however, send to Germany for two
suitable agents.
Two days later I left for Paris, where I put up at the
Palace Hotel. Through my local secretary, I arranged to meet
Sloutski at the CafeViel on the Boule\mddesCapucines. We
213
proceeded to a Persian restaurant near the Pkce de TOpera.
Oa tie way, I asked him for the latest news about our general
policy.
"We have set our course toward an early understanding
with Hitler,* said Sloutski, "and have started negotiations.
They are progressing favorably."
"In spite of everything in Spain!" I exclaimed. For al-
though tfae persistence of Stalin's idea of an accord with
Germany did not surprise me, I thought that Spanish events
had ptisk^d it far into the background.
When ^?e sat down at the table, Sloutski opened the con?
versatioa "by reporting to me an appreciation of my services
that had leen expressed by Yezhov. As Commissar for In-
ternal AFairs official title for the head of the Ogpu Yezhov
spoke 'wifchthe voice of Stalin himself, and I was personally
gratified,
"What 3^011 have done is fine," SloutsH went on. "But from
now on you'll have to throttle down your operations in
Germany-"
''You. don t mean that things have already gone that f arP
I exclaimed.
"I cerfeunly do," he said.
Tou ameaa that you have instructions for me to stop all
work in Germany?"
I said -this regretfully for I foresaw another reversal in
policy later on, which would find my organization disrupted
just wliea its help was most needed. Such things had hap-
pened before.
Sloutsk evidently caught the train of my thought, for he
said emphatically: "This time it's the real thing. It will be
only a matter of three or four months before we come to terms
with Hitbx, You don't have to stop everything, but don't push
your work. There's nothing for us in this rotting corpse of
214
France here, with her Front Populaire! Put some of your men
in Germany on ice. Save them. Transfer them to other coun-
tries. Put them in training. But get ready for a complete
change of policy/* And to dispel any possible doubts, he
added significantly: "This is now the course of the Polit-
bureau."
The Politbureau had bv this time become a svnonvm for
* * -
Stalin* Everyone in Russia knows that a decision of the Polit-
bureau is as final as a generaTs order on the battlefield,
"Matters have gone so far, 1 * Sloutski continued, "that I can
give you Stalin's own "view in his own words. He recently said
to Yezhov: In the immediate future we shall consummate an
agreement with Germany/ w
There was no more to be said on that subject. After a mo-
ment of silence, I took up Sloutskf s unusual request for two
of my men from Germany.
"What the devil are you up to?^ I asked
*Don"t you people realize what youVe doing? 9 *
"Of course we do," he said, "But this is no routine affair.
It involves a case of such colossal importance that I have had
to drop all my other work and come here to put it through."
My agents, then, were not to be assigned to Spain, as I had
assumed. Evidently they were needed for some desperate
work in France. Still I continued to protest against turning
them over to the Ogpu, and Sloutski finally said:
*lf you must have it, the order is from Yezhov himself*
We've got to have two men who can play the part of thor-
oughbred German officers. And we've got to have them at
once. This job is so important that nothing else matters!"
I told hfrn that I had already sent for two of my best agents
in Germany, and that they would be in Paris any day. We
conversed on other matters until the early hours of the morn-
ing. Within a few days I returned to my headquarters In
215
Holland planning to adjust my organisation in Germany to
the new policy.
In January, 1937, the world rocked with astonishment at
a new series of "confessions" in Moscow, where the second
great treason trial was in progress. A galaxy of Soviet leaders
on the prisoner's bench, designated by the prosecution as
"the Trotskyite Center, 9 * confessed, one by one, to a huge con-
spiracy involving espionage in behalf of Germany.
At this time I was engaged in demobilizing large sections
of our intelligence service in Germany. The Moscow news-
papers were bringing day-by-day reports of the trial pro-
ceedings. I was sitting at home, with my wife and child, read-
ing the testimony given on the evening of January twenty-
fourth, when my eye was startled by a line quoted in court
from Radek's secret confession. Radek had stated that Gen-
eral Putna, lately Soviet military attache in Great Britain and
a prisoner of the Ogpu for several months, had come to ^rn\
"with a request from Tukhachevsky," After quoting this line
from his secret confession, Prosecutor Vyshinsky questioned
Radek:
Vyshinsky: I want to know in what connection you men-
tion Tukhachevsky's name.
Radek: Tukhachevsky had been commissioned by the
government with some task for which he could not find the
necessary material . . . Tukhachevsky had no idea either
of Putna's activities or of my criminal activities . . .
Vyshinsky: So Putna came to you, having been sent by
Tulehachevsky on official business having no bearing what-
ever on your affairs, since he, Tukhachevsky, had no rela-
tion with them whatever?
Radek: Tukhachevsky never had any relation whatever
with them.
Vyshinsky: Do I understand you correctly, that Putna Bad
dealings with the members of your Trotskyite underground
216
organization, and that your reference to Tukhachevsky was
made in connection with the fact that Putaa came on official
business on Tukhachevsky's orders?
Radek: I confirm that, and I say that I never had and
could not have had any dealings with Tukhachevsky con-
nected with counter-revolutionary activities, because I knew
Tukhachevsky's attitude to the party and the government to
be that of an absolutely devoted man.
When I read this, I was so profoundly shocked that my
wife asked me what had happened. I handed her the paper,
saying:
"Tukhachevsky is doomed!**
She read the report, but remained calm.
"But Radek again and again absolved Tukhachevsky from
any connection with the conspiracy," she said.
"Exactly," I said. "Does Tukhachevsky need absolution
from Radek? Do you think for a moment that Radek would
dare of his own accord drag Tukhachevsky's name into that
trial? No, Vysbinsky put Tukhachevsky's name in Radek's
mouth. And Stalin prompted Vyshinsky. Don't you under-
stand that Radek speaks for Vyshinsky, and Vyshinsfcy for
Stalin? I tell you Tukhachevsky is doomed.**
TuHiachevsky's name was mentioned eleven times by
Radek and Vyshinsky in that brief passage, and to those
versed in the Ogpu technique, this could have but one mean-
ing. To me, Stalin and Yezhov had forged a ring round
Tukhadhevsky and perhaps other ranking generals of the
high command. It was certain to me that all secret prepara-
tions had been made, and that the process of closing in upon
them in die open had begun.
I turned to the indictment and noted that Radek s secret
"confession** had been made during December. That was the
month when I had received the call from Sloutski for two
217
"German officers." These men had by now reported back to
me, telling me that they had been kept idle for some weeks
in Paris, and then been suddenly dismissed with the laconic
explanation that the "job" had been postponed. We con-
cluded that some hitch had developed, or that the plans had
been changed.
Radek's "confession" in which he dragged in Tukhachev-
sfcy's name, also coincided roughly with Stalin's switch in for-
eign policy. It came just after Sloutskf s warning to me of the
imminence of an agreement with Germany, and his order to
throttle down my work in the Reich.
But why, I thought, should Stalin wish at such a time to
destroy the generalship of the Red Army? Having exter-
minated the Kamenev-Zinoviev group, having destroyed an-
other bloc of his political opponents in the Radek-Piatakov
case, what motive could possibly impel him to proceed
against the high command of our system of national defense?
It is one thing to consign batches of politicians to the firing
squad, men like Zinoviev or Kamenev, whom Stalin has
beaten down and demoralized over a long period of years.
To wipe out the helmsmen of a nation's war machine is
another matter. Would Stalin dare to shoot a commanding
figure like Marshal Tukhachevsky, a leader, say, like Gamar-
nik, the Vice Commissar of War, at such a critical interna-
tional moment? Would he dare to leave the country defense-
less before its enemies by decapitating the Red Army? . . .
Let me give you the background of my reflections on this
question. Marshal Tukhachevsky was the most brilliant mili-
tary figure of the Soviet Revolution. Early in the Civil War,
at the age of twenty-five, he had been appointed commander
of the First Red Army. On September 12, 1918, when Soviet
218
fortunes were at their lowest, he won a decisive victory over
the combined Czech and White Forces at Simbirsk. The fol-
lowing spring, when Admiral Kolchak advancing from the
east had reached the Volga basin, and only one-sixth of Rus-
sian territory remained in Bolshevik hands, Tukhachevsky
counter-attacked at Busuluk and broke through the enemy
lines. Following this initial success, he launched a sensational
drive which forced Kolchak back over the Ural Mountains
and deep into Siberia. On January 6, 1920, he crushed Kol-
chak at Krasnoyarsk, halfway across the Asiatic continent.
Lenin in an exultant telegram acclaimed Tukhachevsky and
his army.
Having smashed the White armies in Siberia, Tukhachev-
sky was sent straight to the command of the central Russian
front against Denikine. In a little more than three months,
Denikine had been driven back to the Black Sea and forced
to flee by ship to the Crimea, the last stronghold of the
Whites. Tukhachevsky had vanquished the two most danger-
ous foes of the Soviet government, Kolchak and Denikine.
In the meantime, the Poles began a surprise offensive into
the Ukraine, advancing almost unopposed upon Kiev, which
they captured on May 7, 1920. The Soviet forces, however,
released by the defeat of Denikine, soon drove the Poles out
of tie Ukraine, and the Red Army began its spectacular ad-
vance on Warsaw. Tukhachevsky, in command of the main
Russian forces, was within artillery range of Warsaw and
ready by early August to throw his entire army against the
Polish capital. He awaited the arrival of the Cavalry Army,
which under the command of Budyenny and Voroshilov had
been moving steadily on the southwest front toward Lwow,
and of the Twelfth Army under Yegorov. The political
commissar of these armies was Joseph Stalin. The Revolu-
tionary War Council, the supreme political authority over
219
the Red Army, had decided that from August 1, the com-
manders of the southwest front were to be subordinate to
Tukhachevsky.
Tukhachevsky ordered the commanders on the southwest
front to turn north toward Lublin and protect the left flank
of the main Russian forces for the decisive battle on the Vis-
tula. On August 11, the order was repeated by Moscow. On
Stalin's instructions, Budyenny and Voroshilov, and also the
commander of the Twelfth Army, disobeyed these military
orders. The Cavalry Army continued its advance toward
Lwow. On August 15, the Poles, whose army had been
reorganized by General Weygand and equipped with French
artillery, struck back at Tukhachevsky from the Lublin area.
From August 15 to August 20, while the Poles were driving
through the Lublin gap, Budyenny's army hammered vainly
at Lwow.
Marshal Pilsudski declares in his memoirs that the failure
of Budyenny to join Tukhachevsky was the decisive factor in
the war. **Their (the Cavalry's and Twelfth Army's) correct
line of march was the one which would have brought them
closer to the main Russian armies commanded by Tukhachev-
sky, and this would have meant the greatest danger to
us. Everything seemed bkck and hopeless to me, the only
bright spots on the horizon being the failure of Budyenny's
cavalry to attack my rear and the weakness displayed by the
12th Army."
Neither Tukhachevsky nor Stalin ever forgot the Polish
campaign. In a series of lectures delivered at die War Acad-
emy and published in book form in 1923, Tukhachevsky com-
pared the behavior of Stalin at Lwow with that of Czarist
General Rennenkampf in the disastrous Battle of Tannen-
berg in 1914.
"Our victorious Cavalry Army," declared Tukhachevsky,
220
"became involved in severe fighting at Lwow in those days,
wasting time and frittering away its strength in engagements
with the infantry strongly entrenched before the town and
supported by cavalry and strong air squadrons."
Stalin never forgave Tukhachevsky for that contribution
to his biography. Biding his time, this man has taken revenge
sooner or later upon everyone who ever criticized him
vitally. Tukhachevsky was not fated to be the sole exception.
Years later, there were grave differences between Stalin
and the Red Army on major matters of policy. These differ-
ences ended, however, in a compromise, and the old wounds,
personal as well as political, seemed on the surface to have
healed. None of us doubted the absolute loyalty to the
Soviet government of a single one of the Red Army critics of
the Statin policy.
The full detail of these differences between Stalin and the
Red Army belongs to another story. (The Trotskyist oppo-
sition in the army had, of course, been liquidated years before
the great purge.) It is vital, however, to trace here the main
features of the major difference. The forcible collectivization
of the peasant holdings, with its deportations and other
punitive measures resulting in famine and the extermination
of millions of peasants, was immediately reflected in the Red
Army. For despite the great increase in the number of indus-
trial workers during Soviet rule, the overwhelming majority
of the population was still peasant, and the roots of the army
were deeply planted in the villages.
The letters received by the soldiers and recruits describing
the fate suffered by their relatives back home, filled them
with resentment, bitterness and even a spirit of revolt. The
villages were being pillaged and destroyed by Ogpu troops
with orders to do a quick and thorough job of "liquidating
the kulaks." Peasant rebellions broke out in the Ukraine, the
221
richest agricultural section of the Soviet Union, and in the
Northern Caucasus. They were ruthlessly suppressed by spe-
cial Ogpu detachments, since the Red Army could not be
trusted to shoot down Russian peasants.
In these circumstances the morale of the Red Army was,
from a military standpoint, rapidly deteriorating. The Politi-
cal Department of the Army, headed by General Gamarnik,
was one of the most valuable auxiliaries of our national de-
fense, a delicate nervous organism which picked up every
tremor that passed through the quivering ranks. Through
this Political Department, the general staff and the entire
officers* corps possessed firsthand knowledge of the explosive
condition of both the soldiers in the barracks and the peas-
ants in the villages.
In 1933, Marshal Bluecher, then commander of the Far
Eastern Military District, dispatched an ultimatum to Stalin
to the effect that unless the peasants of Eastern Siberia were
exempted from the existing harsh decrees, he could not be
responsible for the defense of the Maritime Provinces and
the Amur against Japan. Stalin's power at that time hung so
delicately in the balance that he was forced to capitulate.
Sweeping concessions were granted to the peasants in Mar-
shal Bluecher's district. Several years later Stalin was forced
to modify the general collectivization program to permit all
peasants on the collective farms to own and cultivate small
individual plots.
The war between the Soviet government and the peasants
has yet not ended. It came to a head once more this summer
( 1939 ) with the promulgation of decrees compelling the peas-
ants to do a certain quota of work on the collective farm
before touching their own plots. To the Red Army com-
mander of today this means that a decade after the drive to
"solve" the problem of agricultural production, Ogpu agents
222
must stand guard over every peasant in order to assure a food
supply in the event of war.
Another dissatisfaction arose about the same time in the
officers* corps in connection with Stalin's policy of appease-
ment toward Japanese aggression, beginning with the sale of
the strategic Chinese Eastern Railway. War Commissar Voro-
shilov was at that time completely on the side of the Red
Army command, and together with Gamarnik and Tukha-
chevsky pressed the viewpoint of the military upon Stalin's
Politbureau. Stalin contended that collectivization would cre-
ate a solid economic base for development of future power,
that everything must be sacrificed to that policy, and that in
order to complete it Russia must have peace at any price.
Tukhachevsky had for years vainly pleaded with Stalin
for funds to motorize and mechanize the Red Army, and in
this he had the backing of all the young officers from the
Soviet military academies. Stalin knew of this yearning of
Tukhachevsky's, and decided to appease him with the fulfill-
ment of his dream. A political bargain was struck. Stalin had
his way in general policy at home and abroad, and the Red
Army command had its way with respect to funds for
modernization. The army has succeeded in large measure
with its part of the bargain, but how far collective farming
has fallen short of creating the anticipated "solid base/* is
revealed in the decrees of this past summer.
Such was the origin of what became commonly known as
the Red Army opposition to Stalin, It was one of many dis-
agreements on policy which have cropped up at various
stages in the creation of a Soviet system of national defense.
But this time the cksh led to wild rumors abroad of a strug-
gle for power between Voroshilov and Stalin. Nothing of the
kind occurred* The difference was not unlike those of earlier
223
years between Stalin and the various political opposition
groups. . . .
It was clear to me that Stalin had now determined to settle
accounts with the Red Army opposition in the same bloody
way that he had settled them with his other opponents.
The moment was opportune. The crisis of collectivization
had passed from an acute to a numbed chronic stage.
The Red Army generals had escaped the ordeal through
which the political opposition had been passing for more
than a dozen years. They lived outside that special party
world in which people were forever "deviating" from the
correct Stalinist course, * recanting," "deviating," again and
again "recanting," each time with increasing penalties and
with a progressive breakdown of the will. The job of the
generals, the building of a powerful army and system of
national defense, had preserved their morale.
Stalin knew that Tukhachevsky, Gamarnik, Yakir, Ubore-
vich and the other ranking generals could never be broken
into the state of unquestioning obedience which he now re-
quired of all those about him. They were men of great per-
sonal courage, and he remembered during the days when his
own prestige was at its lowest point, these generals, especially
Tukhachevsky, had enjoyed enormous popularity not only
with the officers' corps and the rank and file of the army, but
with the people. He remembered too that at every critical
stage of his rule forcible collectivization, hunger, rebellion
the generals had supported him reluctantly, had put diffi-
culties into his path, had forced deals upon him. He felt no
certainty that now confronted with his abrupt change of
international policy they would continue to recognize his
totalitarian authority. .
224
These were my reflections, and I wondered how Stalin
would engineer the 'liquidation" of his generals.
Reports soon began to reach me from Moscow indicating
the progressive isolation, not only of Tukhachevsky but of
several other generals. Many of their closest aides were being
arrested. The circle of Stalin men around Tukhachevsky was
being narrowed inch by inch. It began to be clear that even
his unique record and position could not save him.
In March, 1937, I went to Moscow, ostensibly to confer
with Yezhov on an exceptionally confidential matter. The
effect of the two treason trials of Old Bolsheviks had been to
shake the faith of pro-Soviet elements abroad. The sweep of
Stalin's purge was increasing daily, and it was working havoc
in Western Europe.
When I reached Moscow I found an atmosphere of terror
even in the highest offices of the government. The extent of
the purge was greater, not less, than had been reported
abroad. One by one, men who had been my friends and
associates since the Civil War, hardened and trusted and
loyal officers of the general staff and other departments of
the Red Army, were disappearing. No one knew whether
he would be at his desk the next day. There was not a
shadow of doubt that Stalin was drawing his nets around
the entire high command of the Red Army.
In this growing tension a bombshell burst upon me. It was
the strictly secret news conveyed to me by SloutsH, who had
returned to his Ogpu headquarters in Moscow, that an agree-
ment between Stalin and Hitler had been drafted, and had
been brought home by David Kandelaki.
Kandelaki, a native of the Caucasus and a countryman of
Stalin, was officially the Soviet trade envoy to Germany.
Actually, he was Stalin's confidential emissary to the Nazi
government. Accompanied by "Rudolf," the pseudonym of
225
the secret Berlin representative of the Ogpu, Kandelaki had
just arrived from Germany, and both had been whisked
straight to the Kremlin for a conference with Stalin. "Rudolf*
was Sloutsldfs subordinate in the foreign service, but his aid
to Kandelaki was evidently regarded as so important that
he was permitted to report directly to Stalin over the head
of his superior. Kandelaki had succeeded where other envoys
had failed. He had not only initiated negotiations with the
highest Nazi leaders, but had had a private audience with
Hitler himself.
The full nature of the Kandelaki mission was known only
to half a dozen men. To Stalin it was a triumph of his per-
sonal diplomacy. Only a few of his closest lieutenants knew
anything about it. The Commissariat of Foreign Affairs, the
Council of People's Commissars the Soviet Cabinet and the
Central Executive Committee, headed by President Kalinin,
had no part in it whatever. Since Stalin was executing his old
Bolshevik comrades as Nazi spies at the same time that he
was himself conducting these secret negotiations with Hitler,
they obviously could not be made widely known.
It was, of course, no secret in any high Soviet circle that
Stalin had long striven for an understanding with Hitler.
Almost three years had passed since the night of the blood
purge in Germany which had convinced him even while it
was going on that the Nazi regime was firmly established,
and that he piust come to terms with this powerful dictator.
Now inrApril, 1937, on receiving Kandelakf s report, Stalin
felt sure that the deal with Hitler would go through. He need
no longer fear an attack from Germany. The road was clear
for the purge of the Red Army.
By the end of April it became an open secret that Marshal
Tukhachevsky, Vice-Commissar of War Gamarnik, and a
number of other high ranking generals were caught in the
226
rapidly tightening net woven by Stalin's special agents. These
leaders were still at liberty, but they were marked men. They
were shunned at social affairs. It was considered dangerous
to be seen speaking to them. They walked alone. Silence sur-
rounded them.
The kst time I saw my old chief, Marshal Tukhachevsky,
was on May 1, 1937, at the celebration on Red Square. This
May Day celebration is one of the rare occasions when Stalin
appears in public. The precautions taken by the Ogpu for
the celebration of 1937 exceeded anything in the history of
our secret policy. Shortly before, I happened to be in the
Special Section, in the office of Karnieliev, who was in
charge of the passes permitting government officials to enter
the enclosure around Lenin's Tomb (the reviewing stand).
Tim having a hell of a time,** he said to me. "For fourteen
days we have been doing nothing in the Special Section but
taking precautions for May Day."
I did not receive my own pass until the evening of April
thirtieth, when it was delivered by a courier from the Ogpu.
May Day morning was brilliantly sunny. I started early
for the Red Square, and was stopped at least ten times by
patrols who examined not only my ticket, but my papers.
I reached Lenin's Tomb at fifteen minutes before ten o'clock,
the opening hour of the celebration.
Already the reviewing stand was almost packed. The entire
personnel of several sections of the Ogpu had been mobilized
there in civilian clothes as "observers" of the parade. They
had been there occupying every alternate row, since six
o'clock in the morning. Behind and in front of each row of
officials and guests, there was a row of secret agents! Such
were the precautions taken at this time to ensure the safety
of Stalin.
227
A few moments after I arrived, an acquaintance nudged
me and whispered: "Here comes Tukhachevsky!"
The marshal was walking across the square. He was alone.
His hands were in his pockets. Who could guess the thoughts
of this man who took care almost to saunter in the May Day
sunshine, knowing he was doomed? He paused for a mo-
ment, glanced round the Red Square, massed with humanity
and adorned with banners, and then proceeded to the space
in front of the Tomb, where the Red Army generals were
accustomed to review parades.
Tukhachevsky was the first to arrive there. He took his
place and stood motionless, his hands still in his pockets.
Some minutes kter Marshal Yegorov came up. He did not
salute Tukhachevsky nor glance at him, but took the place
beside him as if he were alone. A moment passed, and Vice-
Commissar of War Gamarnik walked up. He again did not
salute either of his comrades, but took the next place as
though he did not see them.
Presently the line was complete. I gazed at these men,
whom I knew to be loyal and devoted servants of the revolu-
tion and of the Soviet government. It was quite apparent
that they knew their fate. That was why they refrained from
greeting one another. Each knew he was a prisoner, destined
for death, enjoying a reprieve by the grace of a despotic
master enjoying a little of the sunshine and the freedom
which the crowds and the foreign guests and delegates mis-
took for real freedom.
The political leaders of the government, Stalin at their
head, occupied the platform-like flat roof of the tomb. The
military parade flowed by. It is customary for the army gen-
erals to remain in their places for the civilian parade which
follows. But this time Tukhachevsky did not stay. During
the intermission betwen the two parades, he stepped out of
228
line and walked away. His hands still in his pockets, he
passed through the cleared lanes, out of the Red Square, out
of sight.
On May fourth, Tukhachevsky's commission to attend the
Coronation of George VI, as he had the funeral of George V,
was canceled. Admiral Orlov, Commissar of the Navy, was
appointed in his stead. But Orlov's appointment was can-
celed, too, and he was subsequently executed.
By this time I had conferred several times with Com-
missar Yezhov on the special business which had enabled
me to come to Moscow. One of these conferences was called
at midnight. Yezhov had wished to see me alone, and I re-
mained closeted with him until early morning. When I left
his office, I was surprised to find Sloutski, the chief of the
Foreign Division of the Ogpu, and his assistant Spiegelglass,
waiting for me. They were visibly mystified by my all-night
session with Yezhov.
I had asked for my passport and was making all prepara-
tions for departure. My intimate friends laughed at these
preparations.
"They won't let you out," I was told again and again.
This was indeed a time when responsible officials were
being recalled from all over the world, and not sent back.
On May eleventh, Tukhachevsky was demoted to the rank
of a provincial commander on the Volga. He never took the
office. Less than a week later Vice-Commissar of War Gamar-
nik, than whom there never was a more loyal Bolshevik, was
arrested.
The following days brought such a succession of arrests
and executions of those with whom I had had lifelong asso-
ciations, that it seemed as if the Russian roof were falling,
and the whole Soviet edifice tumbling about me.
I had still not received permission to leave, and now acted
229
on the assumption that it would not be granted. I sent a wire
to my wife in The Hague to prepare to return to Moscow with
the child.
Then suddenly I was called into the office of the head of
the department. He was sitting at his desk with my passport
in front of him.
'What are you waiting around here for?" he said. "Why
aren't you at your post?"
*1 was waiting for my passport," I said.
"Well, here it is," he said. "Your train goes at ten o'clock.**
On my last day in Moscow the state of alarm reached an
unbearable pitch. Something like a panic seized the entire
corps of officers of the Red Army. Hourly reports came in of
fresh arrests.
I went directly to Mikhail Frinovsfcy, Vice-Commissar of
the Ogpu, who, together with Yezhov, was conducting the
great purge for Stalin.
Tell me, what's going on? What's going on in the coun-
try?" I demanded of Frinovsky. *How can I leave in these
circumstances? How can I do my work without knowing
what it's all about? What shall I say to my comrades abroad?"
It's a conspiracy!" replied Frinovsky. "We've just uncov-
ered a gigantic conspiracy in the army, such a conspiracy as
history has never known. And weVe just now learned of a
plot to kill Nikolai Ivanovitch (Yezhov) himself! But we've
got them all. WeVe got everything under control."
Frinovsky did not volunteer any evidence of the gigantic
conspirady so suddenly discovered by the Ogpu. But I
learned something in the corridors of the Lubianka where I
bumped into Furmanov, the chief of the counter-espionage
section operating among White Russians abroad.
"Say, those were a couple of first-rate men you sent us,"
he said.
230
"What men?" I asked.
"The 'German officers,* you know!" and he began jokingly
to reproach me for being so reluctant to assign my agents for
his work.
The matter had completely slipped my mind, and I asked
Funnanov how he happened to know about it.
"Why, that was our case," Funnanov boasted.
I knew that Funnanov handled for the Ogpu foreign anti-
Soviet organizations like the Federation of Czaiist Aimy
Veterans, a world-wide body headed by General Miller in
Paris. His words meant to me that my two men had been
commaiideered for an undertaking connected with this White
Russian group in France. I recalled Sloutskf s remark that
the matter was of colossal importance. Funnanov had given
me a final clue to the real conspiracy behind the Red Army
purge. But I did not realize it then.
I left Moscow in the evening of May twenty-second. It was
like leaving a city in the midst of a series of earthquakes.
Marshal Tukhachevsky had been arrested. Ogpu circles were
already buzzing with the rumor that Marshal Gamarnik had
also been arrested, although Pravda announced that he had
been elected to the Moscow Committee of the Communist
Party, an important honor bestowed only with the approval
of Stalin himself. I was soon to understand the meaning of
these seemingly contradictory reports. Stalin had seized
Gamarnik and at the same time was offering him an eleventh-
hour reprieve on condition that he would permit his name to
be used in destroying Tukhachevsky. Gamarnik had rejected
the offer.
By the end of the month I was back in The Hague. An
official bulletin from the Soviet capital announced to the
world that Vice-Commissar of War Gamarnik had committed
suicide while under investigation. I learned afterward that
231
Gamarnik did not commit suicide, but was slain in prison by
Stalin's men.
On June eleventh, Moscow first published the news of the
arrest of Tukhachevsky and seven other top-rank generals
as Nazi spies and fellow conspirators of the dead Gamarnik.
On June twelfth came the announcement of the execution of
the eight chiefs, following an alleged secret trial by a court-
martial composed of eight other high officers.
At least one of these eight judges, General Alksnis, was
already, to my knowledge, a prisoner of the Ogpu at the
time when he was supposed to be sitting in judgment on his
former Chief.
Of the eight alleged judges, six have since been destroyed
Marshal Bluecher and Generals Alksnis, Bielov, Dybenko,
Kashirin and Gorbachev. Almost all of the eighty members of
the Council of War were quickly liquidated. The army purge
did not stop until the Ogpu had swept clean the entire of-
ficers* corps, sacrificing in all about 35,000 army men.
In point of fact, there was no court-martial at all of the
Tukhachevsky group. There was not even the pretense of a
joint case against its victims. The eight generals were not
even executed together. They were shot separately, and on
different days. The false report that a trial had taken place
was issued by Stalin to make the rank and file of the army
swallow the tale of the Ogpu's "sudden" discovery of a con-
spiracy in the Red Army.
How sudden the discovery was, what the real plot was,
and what was the evidence of this "conspiracy such as his-
tory has never known" aH of these questions solved them-
selves when I returned to Paris.
The assistant to the chief of the Foreign Division of the
Ogpu, Spiegelglass, had come to Paris early in July. I met
him by appointment at the Closerie-des-Lilas Caf 6, on the
232
Boulevard Montparnasse, and he told me that he was on an
"especially important mission/* Our conversation lasted sev-
eral hours. It soon turned to the Tukhachevsky case.
An opening was provided by an article which had ap-
peared shortly after the execution in Pravda, the mouthpiece
of Stalin, entitled "The Crisis in the Foreign Intelligence
Service/'
"What a stupid piece, and whom will it f ool?" I said. "Here
is Moscow telling the world that the German Intelligence
Service had in its employ at least nine marshals and generals
of the Red Army. The point of the article, supposedly, is that
there is in consequence a crisis in the German service. What
nonsense! The writer should have made a greater effort in
such a serious case. It just makes us a laughingstock abroad."
"But the article was not written for you or for the people
in the know," retorted Spiegelglass. "It was meant for the
general public, for home consumption/*
"It is a terrible thing for us Soviet people,'* I said, "to have
it announced to the world that the German Intelligence Serv-
ice was able to enlist as spies virtually the entire general
staff of the Red Army. You ought to know, Spiegelglass, that
when our Military Intelligence succeeds in enlisting the serv-
ices of a single colonel in some foreign army, it is an event of
the first magnitude. It is brought immediately to the atten-
tion of Stalin himself, and treated by "hm as a great triumph.
Why, if Hitler had succeeded in recruiting as spies nine of
our highest-ranking generals, how many hundreds of minor
officers would he still have as spies in our Red Army?**
"Nonsense/- replied Spiegelglass hotly. "We got them all.
We rooted them all out/*
I gave him the contents of a brief confidential dispatch from
one of my chief agents in Germany. At a formal reception
tendered by high Nazi officials, at which my informant was
aaa
present, the question of the Tukhachevsky affair came up.
Capt. Fritz Wiedemann, personal political aide to Hitler-
appointed subsequently to the post of Consul General at San
Franciscowas asked if there was any truth in Stalin's charges
of espionage against the Red Army generals. My agent's
report reproduced Wiedemann's boastful reply:
"We hadn't nine spies in the Red Army, but many more.
The Ogpu is still far from on the trail of all our men in
Russia."
I knew only too well the character of such talk. So would
any Military Intelligence officer of any nation. It was de-
signed for wide circulation, with a view to undermining the
morale of the enemy. In Military Intelligence parlance it is
known as "disinformation.''
During the World War, the German General Staff even
had a Bureau known as the "Disinformation Service," Here
experts worked out seemingly plausible secret military plans
and orders, which were then "planted" as authentic docu-
ments in the enemy's hands. Sometimes even war prisoners
would be found in possession of secret plans so cleverly con-
cocted by the Bureau of Disinformation as to convince the
captors that they were inside plans.
Spiegelglass, a veteran of the Cheka and its successor, the
Ogpu, was perfectly familiar with the practice. He brushed
aside the intimation that there were other Nazi spies in the
Red Army.
Tm telling you," he said, "there's nothing more to it. We
cleared it all up before proceeding against Tukhachevsky and
Gamarnik. We have information from Germany too from
inside sources. Ours doesn't come from salon conversations,
but from within the Gestapo itself."
He pulled a paper out of his pocket to show me, It was a
report from one of his operatives which confirmed his argu-
ments in convincing style.
"You don't regard such stuff as evidence, do you?" I said.
"That is only one small item," Spiegelglass insisted. "As a
matter of fact, we've been receiving material from Germany
on Tukhachevsky, Gamarnik, and all of their clique for a
long time. 9 *
"For a long time?" I repeated, remembering the **sudden"
discovery of the Red Army conspiracy by Stalin.
"Yes, for the past several years," he continued. 'We Ve got
plenty, not only on the military but on many others, even
on Krestinsky." (Krestinsky had been Soviet ambassador to
Germany for ten years, and kter Vice-Commissar for Foreign
Affairs.)
It was no news to me that the Ogpu watches every step
taken by Soviet officials, however high their rank, and espe-
cially when they go abroad. Every Soviet ambassador, min-
ister, or trade envoy is subject to such surveillance. When
an officer like Tukhachevsky went out of Russia on a gov-
ernment commission to attend the funeral of George V;
when an officer like Marshal Yegorov was sent on a good-
will trip to the Baltic countries; when an officer like General
Putna was assigned to the post of military attach^ in London,
all their comings and goings, and their conversations, were
the subject of a deluge of reports by Ogpu agents.
Normally, a government trusts its servants, especially those
in responsible positions, and would take no stock in their
denunciation by spies, I had had occasion, for instance, while
attached to the General Staff in Moscow, to read reports about
my own doings in Germany, based on facts, yet so maliciously
twisted and elaborated as to compromise me if believed in.
Even in the Soviet government in years gone by, it was cus-
tomary to pass such material on to the person involved.
235
Stalin gradually changed all this. As he gathered the con-
trol of the Ogpu into his own hands, he began to accumulate
in a special secret cabinet a set of such reports on all the re-
sponsible officials of the Soviet government. These files grew
and bulged with material which came to him through the
far-flung network of the Ogpu. It did not matter how spuri-
ous, how fantastic the denunciations of the leading Soviet
figures were. The servile staff of the Ogpu filed them all.
Stalin thought it useful to have a case of some kind against
every leader.
This most secret cabinet got filled up, of course, with mat-
ter planted by the various foreign Bureaus of Disinformation,
including that of the Gestapo. I reminded Spiegelglass of the
worthless character of such evidence.
"You certainly seem to be sure of your German sources,"
I observed.
Spiegelglass could not help bragging.
"We've been getting our information through the Goutch-
kov Circle," he said. "We have our man at its very center."
When Spiegelglass made this statement I could hardly re-
frain from gasping.
The Goutchkov Circle was a very active group of White
Russians, having intimate links with the Germany Military
Intelligence on the one hand; on the other, closer ties with
the Federation of Czarist Army Veterans, headed by General
Eugene Miller in Paris.
The founder of the Circle was Alexander Goutchkov, a
prominent member of the Duma and head of the War In-
dustries Committee under the Czar. In his youth, Goutchkov
had led a volunteer Russian brigade into the Boer War against
Great Britain. Immediately after the abdication of the Czar,
he had served as War Minister. After the Bolshevik Revolu-
tion, he had organized abroad this group which maintained
236
relations with those elements in Germany primarily inter-
ested in German expansion toward the East
The GoutcKkov Circle had long worked with General
Bredow, chief of Military Intelligence of the German Army.
And when General Bredow was executed in the Hitler purge
of 1934, his department and all its foreign network came
under the control of the Gestapo.
According to Spiegelglass, now the Ogpu link with the
Goutchkov Circle was equally close. Goutchkov's own daugh-
ter, I learned later, had been an agent of the Ogpu and a
spy for the Soviet government. But Spiegelglass only now
told me that the Ogpu had a man in the very center of the
Circle, and that it was from this man that they had obtained
the evidence of Tukhachevsky's treason. If that was true,
then somebody in the Goutchkov clique, and doubtless also
the head of the Czarist Army Veterans, had knowledge of
this "evidence," and were quite possibly still in possession of
the originals.
The final key to the "conspiracy such as history has never
known*' was thrust into my hands in Paris in the morning of
September 23, 1937. 1 picked up a batch of newspapers with
screaming headlines, telling of the kidnaping at midday,
Wednesday, September twenty-second, of General Eugene
Miller, head of the Federation of Czarist Army Veterans. It
appeared that before leaving his office at 12:10, General
Miller had given to his aide a sealed envelope, with the re-
mark: "Do not think that I have lost my mind, but this time
I am leaving with you a sealed message which I ask you to
open only in case I do not return."
When Miller did not return that afternoon, some of his
colleagues were summoned to open the envelope. It con-
tained the followed note:
I have an appointment at 12:30 today with General Sko-
bline at the corner of Jasmin and Raffet streets. He is to take
me to a rendezvous with two German officers, one a military
attache in a neighboring country, Strohman, a colonel, the
other, Herr Werner, who is attached to the local German
Embassy. Both of these men speak Russian well. The meet-
ing has been arranged at the initiative of Skobline. It is pos-
sible that this is a trap, and that is why I am leaving you this
note.
I was thunderstruck by the reference in Miller's note to
the "two German officers." So this was the "colossal" job for
which Sloutski had commandeered two of my best agents as
far back as December, 1936. This was the "case" which Fur-
manov, Ogpu specialist on White Russian counter-espionage,
had in mind when he joked with me in Moscow about my
"German officers."
General Skobline was the right-hand man of General Mil-
ler in the White Russian military organization. The wife of
Skobline was the famous Russian folk singer, Nadine Plevitz-
kaia. Miller's colleagues repaired that night to the hotel
where Skobline and his wife lived. Skobline at first denied
knowing anything about Miller's luncheon date, claiming an
alibi for himself. When confronted by Miller's note and
threatened with a trip to the police headquarters, Skobline
took advantage of a momentary lapse of vigilance, slipped
out and dashed away in a waiting automobile.
No trace was ever found of Miller. Skobline, too, vanished
into thin air. His wife, Plevitzkaia, was arrested as an acces-
sory to the crime. Papers found in their apartment established
beyond doubt that Skobline had been an agent of the Ogpu.
Plevitzkaia remained in jail pending an investigation until
her trial in Paris in December, 1938. She was charged with
being a Soviet spy, and received a sentence of twenty years'
238
imprisonment, an unusually severe verdict for a French
court to pass upon a woman.
So General Skobline was the man at the center of the Ogpu
conspiracy against Tukhachevsky and the other generals of
the Red Armyl Skobline played a triple role in this super-
Machiavellian tragedy, and a pivotal one in all three direc-
tions. As secretary of the Goutchkov Circle, he was an agent
of the Gestapo. As member of General Miller's inner council,
he was a leader of the Czarist forces abroad. These two roles
he fulfilled with the knowledge of his third and chief em-
ployer, the Ogpu.
The note left by General Miller proved to be Skobline's
undoing. At the trial of his wife, which ksted from December
5 to December 14, 1938, and attracted wide attention in
Europe, it was shown that Skobline also had a hand in the
mysterious kidnaping, early in 1930, of General Koutiepov,
the predecessor of General Miller as leader of the Czarist
veterans.
It was the Czarist general, Skobline, then, who purveyed
to Stalin the "evidence" which he used against the chiefs and
builders of the Red Army. This "evidence** had been faked
up in the Gestapo, had passed through the feed line of the
Goutchkov Circle to General Miller's organizations, and
thence flowed into Stalin's most secret cabinet.
When Stalin decided that his rapprochement with Hitler
warranted a move against the Red Army, he reached for the
secret files of the Ogpu. Stalin, of course, knew the value of
"evidence" from such sources. He knew that it was "disin-
formation'' of the rawest kind. Outside the Gestapo, whose
silence could be relied on, and Skobline, who as an Ogpu man
was also safe, there was only one man in the world capable
of making these sources known. That was General Eugene
Miller. If Miller chose to, he could expose to the whole world
239
the source of Stalin's "evidence" against the Red generals,
and the channel through which it had been fed to the Ogpu.
He could link up Stalin's conspiracy against the Red Anny
generals with the Red Army's two chief enemies, Hitler's
Gestapo and the remnants of the Czarist White Army in Paris.
Miller must obviously be put out of the way. The Ogpu must
go into action. No less a man than Sloutski himself, head of
the Foreign Division, can handle so "colossal" an undertak-
ing. Sloutski drops all his other work and comes to Paris to
"put it across." He sends a courier to me by plane to The
Hague. , . . "Select from your personnel two men who can
impersonate German officers. They must be impressive . . .
accustomed to talk like army men . . . exceptionally trust-
worthy and bold. . . . This is of extraordinary importance,**
It aJl became perfectly clear and obvious to me as I sat
there in the Cafe des Deux Magots in Paris on a September
morning in 1937, reading the sensational story of the kid-
naping of General Eugene Miller, I am not sure that I have
made it equally clear and obvious or that it can be made so
to a reader unacquainted with the world of secret service, or
the complicated moods and tangled activities of the groups
involved. I must be satisfied to state that, to me and I believe
to any mind familiar with the whole situation the chain
of evidence I have adduced is conclusive. It leaves no place
for doubt that the alleged conspiracy of the Red Army gen-
erals and the Gestapo against Stalin, was a conspiracy of
Stalin against the Red Army generals, and that to frame his
generals, Stalin employed "disinformation" manufactured by
the Gestapo, and fed to the Ogpu through the Czarist forces.
Once more Stalin demonstrated that he never forgets or
forgives. The old differences of opinion with the high com-
mand of the Red Army remained in his memory as "opposi-
240
tion." This "opposition," when dragged into the meshes of
his Ogpu machine, became a "conspiracy." Such "conspira-
cies" are the rungs in the ladder on which Stalin climbed
to absolute power. In the process, critics became "enemies,"
sincere opponents "traitors," all honest and zealous opposi-
tional opinion with the expert aid of the Ogpu "organized
plots." On the corpses of his former comrades and fellow
revolutionists, creators and builders of the Soviet State,
Stalin has mounted step by step to solitary control over the
peoples of Russia.
The reader will remember that it was in December, 1936
that Karl Radek, signing a secret confession dictated by
Stalin through Vyshinsky, first dragged in the name of
Tukhachevsky. It was also in December, 1936 that I was
called on to supply the two "German officers." The con-
spiracy against Tukhachevsky went back at least ^s far as
that. But some difficulty developed; my men were kept wait-
ing and then returned to me; the kidnaping of General Mil-
ler had to be postponed. The nature of this difficulty was in-
dicated a year later in some evidence introduced into the
trial of Plevitzkaia. On December 11, 1938, Attorney Ribet
read to the court from Miller's confidential correspondence a
letter he had received from General Dobrovolsky in Fin-
land, warning Trim against Skobline. Dobrovolsky did not
state in so many words that Skobline was an agent of the
Ogpu; he merely said that among some of his colleagues
Skobline's position was becoming a little dubious.
"Alas!" said Attorney Ribet, "the warning did not shake
General Miller s trust in Skobline!"
It did not shake his trust completely, and not perma-
nentlyonly enough so that the kidnaping scheme worked
out by the Ogpu, with Skobline as a decoy, had to be post-
241
poned. Skobline undertook to reestablish himself in Miller's
confidence.
Six months passed, and on June 2, 1937, Tukhachevsky
and his colleagues were executed in Moscow. Three weeks
later, Spiegelglass, Sloutskfs first assistant, was in Paris
again, as he told me, on an "especially important mission."
He stayed in Paris, to my personal knowledge, well into
September. On September 23, General Miller was kidnapped,
with Skobline (whom he still somewhat distrusted) acting as
a decoy. At about the same time Spiegelglass disappeared.
It remains to say that Spiegelglass disappeared not only
from Paris, but also, according to reliable reports, from this
world. Perhaps it did not occur to him that if General Miller
knew too much about the source of the Tukhachevsky "evi-
dence," Spiegelglass similarly knew too much about the end
of General Miller. SloutsH also knew too much, and he "died"
in Moscow with surprising suddenness some months later.
Stalin's execution of the high commanders of the Red
Army as Nazi spies was now a chapter of history. He had
liquidated General Miller, who might have exposed the
link between his "evidence" and the Gestapo. And he had
liquidated the liquidators of General Miller. But for a
series of pure accidents which gave the key to the whole
mystery into my hands, there was now no one outside the
German Gestapo who could show him up. And the Gestapo,
having achieved their aim, the decapitation of the Red Army
and the destruction of Russia's greatest general, would obvi-
ously have no motive to speak. Still it is rarely that anybody
in possession of a momentous inside story keeps it absolutely
secret. On October 27, 1938, the official Nazi military
organ, Deutsche Wehr- The German Army-in a special ar-
ticle dealing with the Red Army purge, disclosed that the
man who had betrayed Tukhachevsky and his colleagues to
242
Stalin was "the traitor, the well-known General Skobline,
living in Paris, the man who had betrayed to the Bolsheviks
the two generals, Koutiepov and Miller a man who was out-
side the ranks of the Red Army.*
Aside from that, there has been no published hint any-
where, so far as I am aware, of a connection between the
execution of the Red generals in Moscow and the kidnaping
of General Miller in Paris. I do not at present understand the
motives of this partial revelation not by the Gestapo, but
by the German Army men. Their well-informed article in-
creases my confidence, however, that with the key I have
supplied, the full details of this mystery will someday be
unlocked, and the conspiracy of Stalin against his generals
become an open page of history*
248
VIIL My Break with Stalin
IN MAY, 1937, Stalin bestowed upon me the highest testi-
monial within his power. Within six months I became the
object of an intensive man hunt by Stalin's Ogpu agents.
How did it happen?
In the course of these six months my most intimate friend
in the Soviet service abroad broke with the Stalin regime.
The Ogpu organized a special expedition of assassins who
trapped and machine-gunned him near Lausanne, Switzer-
land.
My experience is a case history of a loyal Soviet officer
transformed overnight into state prey to be shot down
wherever the shooting is good. It is typical of thousands
in the Soviet Union who are glorified as heroes today and to-
morrow denounced as traitors. Look in your encyclopedia or
almanac for the names of the distinguished members of the
Soviet government recently eulogized by Stalin himself, and
you wfll find practically all of them proscribed today as
"spies'* and "reptiles. 7 *
It was a high badge of confidence which Stalin and the
Central Committee of the party conferred on me when at
the climax of the great purge, they sent me back to my post
as Chief of the Soviet Military Intelligence in Western Eu-
rope. Those were the days when ambassadors and ministers,
to say nothing of special agents, were being recalled from
all over the world to be shot or imprisoned in Moscow, when
244
even the leading generals of the Red Army were bound for
the firing squad.
Early in March I had left my headquarters in The Hague
on my own initiative to go back home and report to my supe-
riors, but I was also driven by a consuming desire to find out
at firsthand what was going on in the Soviet Union. As I
expected to be gone but a short time, my wife and child re-
mained in Holland.
On March sixteenth I landed by plane at Helsingfors, Fin-
land, and proceeded the same night by train to Leningrad.
This had been in recent years my standard route to and
from the Soviet Union. The reason for avoiding the direct
route through Germany went back to 1923. 1 was, as I have
already described, one of a number of Soviet officers engaged
in organizing the skeleton of a Red Army in Germany. This
got me into exciting difficulties with the police authorities of
Berlin, and for two months in 1926 I stayed in hiding in our
Soviet Embassy there. Although subsequently I did pass sur-
reptitiously through Germany several times, it became par-
ticularly dangerous after the rise of Hitler in 1933. Moscow
did not wish me to take any chances of falling into the hands
of Hitler's Gestapo.
That is why I returned home in March, 1937, through the
Scandinavian countries. At that time on account of the purge,
the Ogpu was granting few visas for entry into the Soviet
Union, and there was little traffic across its borders. The
only other passengers on my train were three Americans, ob-
viously traveling on diplomatic passports as their baggage
was not examined. The party consisted of a couple and a
blond fellow in his thirties, wearing a high black fur hat.
He spoke Russian and was, to all appearances, a member of
the United States Embassy in Moscow. There was quite a bit
of conversation with the customs officials concerning the
245
diplomatic baggage, which comprised a number of enormous
packages, the contents of which were the subject of amusing
guesswork among the Soviet customs men.
At the railway ticket office in Leningrad I ran into an old
friend and comrade.
'Well, how are things?" I asked him.
He glanced about, and answered in a subdued voice:
"Arrests, nothing but arrests. In the Leningrad district alone
they have arrested more than seventy per cent of all the
directors of factories, including the munitions plants. This
is official information given us by the party committee. No
one is secure. No one trusts anyone else.**
In Moscow I put up at the Hotel Savoy, as we had sur-
rendered our apartment to some fellow officials. The purge
was in full swing. Many of my comrades had disappeared. It
was risky to inquire into the fate of the victims. Many of my
telephone calls to friends went unanswered. Those who were
still about wore masks on their faces.
One of my closest friends, Max Maximov-Unschlicht, a
nephew of the former Vice-Commissar of War, occupied with
his wife the room next to me. For nearly three years Max
had served as chief of our Military Intelligence in Nazi Ger-
many, one of the most perilous assignments in the service.
He had recently married a girl from the provinces, a gifted
painter, who had come to Moscow to study art. As she was
at home most of the time, I used to keep my personal papers
in their room.
I was in the habit of dropping in on the Unschlichts in the
evening, and we usually stayed up and talked until the early
hours of the morning. I was eager for news. Max's uncle was
already in disfavor. He had been demoted from his powerful
army post to the impotent office of secretary of the Central
Executive Committee of the Soviet Union. Friends, asso-
246
ciates and relatives of the Unschlichts were vanishing daily.
Among these were many ranking generals and commissars.
"Why have they arrested General Yakir? Why have they
seized General Eidemann?" I would ask Max.
But Max was a rock-ribbed Stalinist. Without answering
my specific questions, he would defend the purge wholesale.
"These are dangerous times for the Soviet Union/' he
would say. "He who is against Stalin is against the revo-
lution/*
One night I returned to my room very late. I went to bed
without knocking at the Unschlichts' door. In the dead of
night I was awakened by a noise in the corridor outside. It
must be the Ogpu coming for me, I thought. But they did not
come to my door. At seven in the morning there was a knock
at my door. As I opened it I faced Max's wife, Regina,
tears streaming down her cheeks, terror in her eyes.
"They took Max away! They took Max!" was all she could
say.
It appeared that Max had been arrested the evening be-
fore, just as he reached the lobby of the hotel upon returning
from his office. During the night the Ogpu agents had raided
his room, searched it, and incidentally taken my personal
papers along with the rest of the seized material. Early in the
morning the manager of the hotel told Mrs. Maximov-Un-
schlicht that she must vacate the room within an hour. Regina
had no relatives in Moscow. She had no money. Even with
money it is impossible to secure living quarters in Moscow
on short notice.
I endeavored to dissuade the hotel manager, but he re-
mained adamant. His attitude toward me also had changed.
Was I not a close friend of Max? The expression on his face
seemed to say that he did not regard my own position as any
too firm.
247
I telephoned to a mutual friend of ours, a high officer of
the Military Intelligence, whom I had met but two evenings
earlier in Max's room. I asked him if he could do something
to save Regina from being thrown out on the street. His man-
ner was curt.
"The Ogpu arrested Max. Therefore he is an enemy. I can
do nothing for his wife."
I tried to argue with him, but he made it clear that it
would be best for me, too, not to meddle in the affair. He
hung up the receiver.
I then telephoned the Ogpu officer in charge of the arrest
of Max, and demanded the immediate return of my personal
documents. I had decided to act resolutely in the matter. Sur-
prisingly enough, the Ogpu officer was most courteous.
When I explained to him the reason for my keeping the
papers in Max's room and expressed my readiness to come
over and get them, he replied: 'Til send the package over to
you by courier at once, Comrade Krivitsky/'
Within a half hour I had my papers. During the day I
helped arrange matters so that Regina could return to her
native town that night. I gave her, surreptitiously, the neces-
sary funds. We had learned that it would be useless for her
to remain in Moscow, as she could not visit her husband or
help him in any way. It was even forbidden at this time to
send food or clothing parcels to political prisoners.
My first task upon reaching the office that day was to pre-
pare two reports on my relations with Max. One of these
was addressed to my superiors in the War Department, the
other to my party unit. This was in accordance with an un-
written law requiring every member of the Communist Party
to file a full history of his or her relationship to anyone
charged with political misdeeds. To fail to submit such a re-
port would have been tantamount to an admission of guilt.
248
The spy hunt was sweeping the country. According to
Stalin it was the first duty of every Soviet citizen to look for
traitors. It was he who had warned that "the enemies of the
people, the Trotskyites and Gestapo agents," lurked every-
where, pervaded every field. Yezhov's machine of terror in-
terpreted Stalin's call of vigilance thus:
"Accuse one another, denounce one another, if you wish
to remain among the living.**
The espionage mania made people denounce their friends
and even their nearest relatives. Crazed by fear, people be-
came obsessed with the hunt, and, to save themselves, offered
victims, and more and more victims, to the Ogpu.
Within the first five months of 1937, 350,000 political ar-
rests were made by the Ogpu, according to official figures
disclosed to me by the chief of the special section in charge
of the purge. The prisoners ranged from marshals and
founders of the Soviet government to minor Communist
officeholders.
In the midst of this tidal wave of arrests and executions, I
went about my business, reporting to Yezhov on matters
abroad which required settlement before my return to Hol-
land. There were those among my associates who doubted
that I would be allowed to leave the country, but neverthe-
less, I applied for half a dozen additional and highly trained
agents, whom I needed to augment my staff abroad. A num-
ber of graduates of our secret schools were sent to me to be
interviewed. One of them was an American woman by the
name of Kitty Harris, originally Katherine Harrison. She had
been described to me as the former wife of Earl Browder,
Communist leader in the United States, and therefore, as
exceptionally reliable. At that time I needed a woman agent
in Switzerland, and the holder of an American passport was
particularly welcome.
249
Wlien Kitty Harris called on me, presenting her papers in
a sealed envelope, I learned that she too was stopping at the
Hotel Savoy. She was ahout forty, dark-haired, of good ap-
pearance, and had been connected with our secret service
for some years. Kitty Harris spoke well of Browder, and par-
ticularly of Browder's sister, who was then in our service in
Central Europe.
I approved the assignment of Miss Harris to a foreign post,
and she left on April twenty-ninth. Others whom I selected
were similarly dispatched with orders to report to my as-
sistants in Western Europe. It became clear that the purge,
and even the arrest of Max, had not affected my standing.
Surely Yezhov would not have let me pick and send agents
abroad if he had any intention of purging me.
Yet the purge was sweeping people away like an avalanche.
One of my veteran translators, a woman who had served in
my department for many years, was seized by the Ogpu. It
was almost impossible to repkce her, as the work required
a person of exceptional reliability, with a perfect knowledge
of many languages. When I inquired the cause of her arrest,
I was told that her husband, a Communist employed as di-
rector of a Moscow factory, had been taken, and his wife was
rounded up as a precautionary measure.
"But what's the use of my keeping a dozen men abroad to
gather information for the Politbureau when I haven't got a
secretary to translate and compile it?"
I appealed thus to SloutsH but he only shrugged his
shoulders.
About the middle of May I ran into an old acquaintance
who had served as Soviet military attache in Rumania. He
was a towering and jolly fellow whose sense of humor did
not desert him even now.
He stopped in his tracks when he saw me on the street.
250
"Am I seeing things, or is this Walter? What, they haven t
arrested you yet? Never mind, don't feel hurt. They'll get
around to you soon enough," and he roared with laughter.
We had quite a chat. He reeled off by dozens the names
o army officers under arrest for at this time Marshal Tukha-
chevsky and his associates were akeady in the net. He had
no doubt that his own turn would soon come.
I had come to the Soviet Union for a brief stay, but two
months had elapsed without my being ordered back. It
began to seem so unlikely that I would be allowed to leave
the country at the crest of the Red Army purge that I finally
wired my wife in Holland to get ready to return with our
child to Moscow.
On May twenty-second, the day when the fate of War
Commissar Voroshilov himself was hanging in the balance
and his fall momentarily expected, I received my passport
and was told that my train would leave at ten P.M. I went to
Mikhail Frinovsky, the right-hand man of Yezhov, and he
confirmed the news that I was to leave that evening.
My associates interpreted this as a token of the implicit
confidence which the Kremlin had in me. But when I reached
Bielo-Ostrov, on the Finnish border, and caught sight of
the familiar figure of the local commander rushing toward
my compartment waving a telegram, my thought was: "He
has orders for my arrest!"
Many had been arrested in this way, just as they were
ready to cross the border. "But why?" I asked myself* "Why
was I not arrested before this?"
The train came to a stop. The commander extended a
hearty greeting. The telegram was a routine message telling
him of my coming so as to assure me of the assistance due
officers of our secret service going through on false passports.
I still carried the passport with which I had left the Soviet
251
Union in 1935. 1 was Eduard Miller, Austrian engineer. This
passport was kept for me in the Soviet Embassy at Stock-
holm, for my journeys from Sweden to Soviet Russia only.
Upon my arrival in Stockholm, I picked up the passport on
which I resided in Holland. There I would once more become
Dr. Martin Lessner, Austrian art dealer, of Celebesstraat, 32,
The Hague.
Although shaken by my experience in Moscow, I was re-
turning to my post, determined to give the Soviet govern-
ment the same unflinching loyalty with which I had served
it during the preceding eighteen years.
I arrived in The Hague on May twenty-seventh. Two days
kter my old friend and comrade, Ignace Reiss came to visit
me. He had worked for years in our secret service abroad.
He was known under the pseudonym of Ludwig. At this time
he was using the passport of a Czech named Hans Eberhardt.
Reiss had been deeply shocked by the purge of the Old
Bolsheviks and the "treason trials" and was already deter-
mined to break away from Moscow. He had awaited with
impatience my return from Soviet Russia, and came straight
to Holland to get first-hand information from me on the events
back home. My answers to his numerous and probing ques-
tions made a shattering impression upon him. Reiss was a
thorough idealist who had enlisted heart and soul in the cause
of Communism and world revolution, and Stalin's policy
appeared to him more and more obviously an evolution to-
ward Fascism.
Reiss and I were bound together by many years of perilous
underground service, and there were few confidences which
we did not share. He spoke to me of his crushing disillusion-
ment, of his desire to drop everything and go off to some re-
mote corner where he could be forgotten. I mustered all the
252
familiar arguments and sang the old song that we must not
run away from the battle.
"The Soviet Union," I insisted, "is still the sole hope of
the workers of the world. Stalin may be wrong. Stalins will
come and go, but the Soviet Union will remain. It is our duty
to stick to our post/*
Although Reiss was convinced that Stalin was following
a counter-revolutionary course to catastrophe, he left me
with the understanding that he would bide his time and
watch further developments in Moscow before making his
contemplated break with the Soviet government.
That was in May. I saw Reiss again in July in Paris, where
I had gone to confer with some of my agents. At seven in
the evening of Saturday, July 17, I met hi for a few min-
utes at the Cafe Weber. He was eager to have a long talk
with me, evidently on a matter of supreme importance to
him. We agreed that he should call me up at eleven the next
morning to arrange for a meeting, I was stopping at the
Hotel Napoleon.
Two hours later I received an urgent message from my
Paris secretary, Madeleine, to meet Spiegelglass, assistant to
the chief of the Foreign Division of the Ogpu, whom Yezhov
had sent to Western Europe on a mission of the highest
secrecy.
I met Spiegelglass at the Paris Exposition grounds, and I
could see at once that something extraordinary must have
happened. He produced two letters which Reiss had that day
turned over for dispatch to Moscow to Lydia Grozovskaya,
an Ogpu agent attached to our trade mission in Paris. Reiss
had felt sure that his letters would not be opened in France.
He did not know that he had been tinder suspicion, and that
Spiegelglass had been sent with plenipotentiary powers to
purge the foreign services. Yezhov had given him complete
253
authority and orders to stop at nothing, not even kidnaping
or assassinating suspected agents.
"Yes," said Spiegelglass, pointing to the letters in his hand,
"we even suspected you in the beginning. For we were told
only that some high Soviet agent had appeared in Holland
and established contact with the Trotskyites. We found out
that Ludwig and not you was the traitor/'
On June 11, the day Moscow announced the purge of
Tulchachevsky and the eight ranking generals of the Red
Army, my friend Reiss had gone to Amsterdam, according to
information in the hands of the Ogpu. There he had had a
secret conference with H. Sneevliet, member of parliament
and leader of the Amsterdam Transport Workers* Union, a
man of Trotskyite leanings. The Ogpu had eyes and ears
everywhere.
At first Spiegelglass was not inclined to let me read the
letters of resignation handed in by Reiss, but he finally
yielded. My friend's principal message was addressed to the
Central Committee of the Communist Party that is, to Stalin,
its General Secretary. This letter was dated July 17, and
must have been penned but a few hours before my brief
meeting with Reiss. He had evidently intended to discuss his
decision with me at our rendezvous the following day. Reiss
wrote:
The letter which I am addressing to you today I should
have written a long time ago, on the day when the Sixteen
(referring to the Kamenev-Zinoviev group, executed in
August, 1936) were murdered in the cellars of the Lubianka
at the command of the Father of Nations. (A Soviet appella-
tion for Stalin. ) I kept silent then. I raised no voice of protest
at the subsequent murders, and for this I bear a large respon-
sibility. My guilt is great, but I shall try to make up for it,
to make up for it quickly, and to ease my conscience.
Up to now I have followed you. From now on, not a step
254
further. Our ways part! He who keeps silent at this hour be-
comes an accomplice of Stalin, and a traitor to the cause of
the working class and of Socialism.
From the age of twenty I have battled for Socialism. I do
not want now, on the eve of my fifth decade, to live by the
favors of Yezhov. Behind me are sixteen years of under-
ground service this is no trifle, but I still have enough
strength to make a new start . . .
The fanfare which has been raised around the polar fliers
was designed to drown the noise of the cries of victims tor-
tured in the cellars of the Lubianka, in Minsk and Kiev, in
Leningrad and Tiflis. But this will not succeed. The voice of
truth is still louder than the noise of a maximum horsepower
engine.
Yes, the record-breaking fliers will find it easier to win over
American ladies and the sport-crazed youth of both conti-
nents, than we shall to win world opinion and stir the con-
science of the world. But let no one be deceived. Truth wfll
find its way. The day of judgment is nearer, much nearer,
than the gentlemen in the Kremlin think . . .
No, I cannot continue any longer. I am returning to free-
domback to Lenin,- to his teachings and his cause.
P. S.: In 1928 1 was awarded the Order of the Red Banner
for my service to the proletarian revolution. I am returning
it herewith. To wear it simultaneously with the hangmen
of the best representatives of the Russian workers is beneath
my dignity.
To Spiegelglass, the message of Reiss spelled but one
thing; treason. From now on, Reiss was a spy, a dangerous
enemy to be "liquidated," for Stalin does not permit Soviet
agents to leave his service.
"You know, you are responsible for Reiss,** Spiegelglass re-
marked significantly. "You introduced "him into the Com-
munist Party and you sponsored his joining our organization.**
He went on to tell me that he had information that Reiss
intended to leave France the following morning, and that
255
action must be taken that very night or it might be too late.
At first he was cautious in throwing out hints that I might
take a hand in the "liquidation ' of Reiss. I pretended not to
understand what he was driving at, and tried to divert the
conversation to other channels.
Spiegelglass suggested that we telephone a close friend of
Reiss, then in Paris, a former Hungarian pastor who went,
in our secret service, by the name of Mann and ask him to
join our conference. We reached Mann and he agreed to come
over.
In the meantime, Spiegelglass became very explicit. His
words left little doubt in my mind that my own fate depended
upon my conduct that night. To his insistent suggestion that
I take a hand in organizing the "solution" of the Reiss case,
so as to establish my own loyalty in the eyes of Yezhov and
Stalin, I finally replied that I would have nothing to do with
any such undertaking.
At that moment I realized that my lifelong service to the
Soviet government was ended. I would be unable to meet
the demands of Stalin's new era. I did not have within me the
faculties required by the Spiegelglasses and the Yezhovs. I
could not pass the criminal test now put to those who wished
to serve Stalin. I had taken an oath to serve the Soviet Union;
I had lived by that oath; but to take an active hand in these
wholesale murders was beyond my powers.
I asked Spiegelglass if he had the authority to take over
my network, as the situation clearly demanded that I return
to Moscow. He answered that this was outside his jurisdic-
tion, and that I had better put the thing up to my superiors
directly.
Presently Mann joined us. While we were discussing the
Reiss defection all over again Spiegelglass would occasionally
absent himself and go to another pavilion, apparently to con-
256
fer with some other agent. During one of these absences
now after midnight I went to the telephone and put through
a call to Reiss at his hotel. As soon as Reiss responded with
a "Hello" at the other end, I dropped the receiver. Between
one and three o'clock on that morning of July eighteenth,
Mann and I made four such telephone calls. They were in-
tended as a warning to Reiss that he was in imminent danger.
Back at my hotel, I expected at eleven the next morning a
call from Reiss to arrange for our meeting. My telephone rang
at ten. It was Mann. He asked me to come over at once. I
told linn that I had an appointment within an hour with Reiss.
"You can come over. He won't show up," he said.
Sickened by the idea that Reiss was already murdered, I
made a dash by cab to Mann's quarters. Spiegelglass was
there.
"He's got away!" he cried. "He left his hotel at seven this
morning."
Mann and I exchanged glances. We breathed more easily.
The next morning, Monday, July 19, I received a letter
from Reiss bidding me farewell and explaining his action.
I put the letter in my pocket after reading it. My friendship
for Reiss was well known, and I took it for granted that I
would have to go home and face the consequences. I sent a
report to Moscow on the whole affair. It is a grave matter
in Stalin's service to be an intimate of one who breaks with
him, and I knew my refusal to assist in my friend's murder
would be regarded by Yezhov and Stalin with no kindly eye.
I proposed to return home, and asked for instructions.
At three o'clock in the morning of Tuesday, July twentieth,
I was awakened by a telephone call. It was Spiegelglass.
"Did you receive a letter?" he asked.
I answered sincerely that I did not know what he was
257
talking about, for in my sleepy condition I did not instantly
recall the letter that had come from Reiss.
Spiegelglass asked me to meet him at once. I demurred.
He insisted it was urgent, and I finally yielded. I dressed
hastily and met him at a near-by caf 6. Here Spiegelglass asked
me specifically if I had received a letter from Reiss. Aston-
ished at his omniscience, I pulled it out of my pocket. He
demanded that I let him read it, and asked me to have it
photographed right away, which was quite impossible. He
wanted a photostat of the letter and I decided to let him
have the original.
My situation had grown more complicated. I had received
a letter from the "traitor" Reiss, and had failed to notify
Spiegelglass immediately. Moreover, I had denied, when first
awakened by his telephone call, that I possessed such a letter.
This clearly marked me in the eyes of Spiegelglass as an ac-
complice of Reiss.
I wrote my wife to pack up and come to Paris with the
child, in preparation for our return to Moscow. She arrived
in Paris at the end of the month, and we established ourselves,
under the name of Lessner, at a pension on the Rue des
Maronniers, Passy, a wealthy residential district.
On August tenth, my recall to Moscow came through. As
my Austrian passport under the name of Eduard Miller had
expired, a special passport was sent me in the name of a
Czechoslovak merchant, Schoenborn. I was to take passage
from Le Havre to Leningrad by the French steamer Ere-
tagne, plying regularly in summer between the two ports.
Sometime before my recall, Spiegelglass had learned from
me that a sister of Earl Browder named Margaret was one
of my operatives. He asked me to assign her to him, as he
had an "important job" in France, for which he needed
especially reliable people. While I do not mean to implicate
258
Miss Browder in the "important jobs** of Spiegelgkss which
I have described, I think Americans should realize the kind
of situation in which they may arrive when they enlist in the
service of Stalin.
Now that I was instructed to turn my organization over
to Spiegelgkss, he asked to meet my leading agents person-
ally, and made a special point of meeting Miss Browder,
who was operating on an American passport issued in the
name of Jean Montgomery.
Miss Browder, a woman in the late thirties, small in stature
and of the school-teacher type, had been in the service of
the Soviet Military Intelligence for some time. During
1936-37 she worked in Central Europe where she laid the
ground for the establishment of our secret radio station.
Miss Browder had graduated from our special school in Mos-
cow as a radio operator and she lived abroad in the disguise
of a student.
Upon my return from the Soviet Union kte in May, I had
called her to the Netherlands. We met in the beginning of
June in Amsterdam, where she stopped at the Hotel Pays-
Bas. As my headquarters were in The Hague, which was too
far for frequent meetings, I suggested that she move over to
the Scheveningen. She did so, and lived there in June and
July, 1937, at the Hotel Zeerest. At the end of July I called
her to Paris, where she put up at the Hotel Lutetia, Boule-
vard Raspail.
An agent of exceptional talent whom I introduced to
Spiegelgkss, was a young Dutchman, Hans Bruesse, the son
of a prominent kbor leader. Hans was to pky a fateful role
in the weeks to come. He had been my most trusted aide in
many unusual assignments, and had become an intimate of
my family. I was very fond of the youth, and also of his
wife, Norah.
259
I was now preparing to leave for Moscow on August
twenty-first, by the steamship Bretagne. From the moment
the Reiss affair broke and while I was still at the Hotel
Napoleon, I had observed that I was being shadowed. When
my wife and child arrived and we moved to the Passy
pension, the shadowing became even more assiduous. My
wife would notice it even when she took the child for a
walk in the park. It was, of course, the work of Spiegelglass.
My wife, who was not well, was made worse by these wor-
ries, and moreover my child got the whooping cough. When
the date of my departure arrived it was clear that I should
have to leave my family behind. I made arrangements for
them to follow me to Moscow several weeks later.
Bearing a passport under the name of Schoenborn, I
arrived around seven P.M. at the Gare St. Lazare to take the
eight o'clock train for Le Havre, where I was to board the
boat for Leningrad. About ten minutes before parting time,
after I had attended to my baggage and already seated my-
self in the railway coach, the assistant to the Paris agent
of the Ogpu rushed in. He told me that a telegram had just
come from Moscow with instructions that I remain in Paris.
I was incredulous, but a moment later one of my own men,
all out of breath, came dashing in with the news of another
coded message, similar in content. I asked to see the tele-
grams, but was told that Spiegelglass had them. I had my
baggage removed and got off the train just as it pulled out of
the station.
It flashed through my mind that the whole business of my
recall had been staged to test me, to see if I really would
return to the Soviet Union. In that event, I had passed thfe
test. But I resented that bit of chicanery deeply. A feeling
came over me right there that I not only would end my
service, but I would never go back to Stalin's Russia.
260
I registered now at the Hotel Terminus, St. Lazare, as
Schoenborn, the Czech merchant whose name I bore. My
wife was still at the pension as Mrs. Lessner. I sent word
to her that I had not left after all. That night I walked the
length and breadth of Paris, all alone, wrestling with the
question whether to go back or not.
During the next days I kept trying to figure out why my
departure had been postponed at the last minute. Did Stalin
want to give me another chance to show my loyalty? Yet
the spying on me was palpably intensified. The evening
of August twenty-sixth I went with Hans and Norah to the
theater to see a farewell performance of Gorki's Enemies,
given by a Soviet troupe visiting Paris. We sat in the second
row. During the first intermission, a hand touched my
shoulder. I turned around. There was Spiegelglass with
some companions.
"You can leave tomorrow with these artists on one of our
own boats," he counseled me.
I turned upon him angrily and told him not to bother
me. "Ill go when I get ready," I said.
I noticed that Spiegelglass and his associates shortly there-
after disappeared from the theater. I cabled Moscow that I
would return with my family as soon as the child recovered.
On August twenty-seventh I moved to Breteuil, a couple
of hours from Paris, and we lived there quietly for about a
week while the child convalesced. On the morning of Sep-
tember fifth, opening the Paris Matin, I saw a dispatch from
Lausanne, Switzerland, reporting the mysterious murder of
a Czechoslovak, Hans Eberhardt. So they got Ignace Reiss!
The assassination of Reiss became a celebrated case in
Europe and reverberated in the press of America and
throughout the world. The Swiss police, assisted by Deputy
Sneevliet and the widow of Reiss, did a remarkable piece of
261
investigation lasting many months. The record of the case
has been published by Pierre Tesne in Paris in a book en-
titled L'Assassinat d'lgnace Reiss. The following facts were
established by the police investigations.
On the night of September fourth, off the Chamblandes
road running from Lausanne, the body of an unknown man
about forty years of age was found riddled by machine-gun
bullets. There were five bullets in his head and seven in his
body. A strand of gray hair was found clutched in the hand
of the dead man. In his pockets were a passport in the name
of Hans Eberhardt and a railway ticket for France.
An automobile of American make abandoned on Septem-
ber sixth at Geneva, led to the identification of two mys-
terious guests, a man and a woman, who had registered on
September fourth at the Hotel de la Paix in Lausanne, and
had fled without their baggage and without paying their bill.
The woman was Gertrude Schildbach, of German national-
ity, a resident of Rome. She was an Ogpu agent in Italy.
The man was Roland Abbiat, alias Francois Rossi, alias Py,
a native of Monaco, and one of the Paris agents of the Ogpu.
Among the effects left by Gertrude Schildbach at the
hotel was a box of chocolate candy containing strychnine
now in the hands of the Swiss police as one of the exhibits
in the case. Gertrude Schildbach had been an intimate friend
of the Reiss family, accustomed to play with Reiss's child.
She had lacked the force to give this poisoned candy, as
Spiegelglass directed, to the family she was accustomed to
visit as a friend,
Gertrude Schildbach herself had been wavering politically
since die beginning of the purge, and she could plausibly
play the part of one ready to join Reiss in breaking with
Moscow, Reiss had known of her waverings and trusted her.
He went out with her to dine in a restaurant near Chamb-
262
landes to discuss the whole situation. So he thought After
dinner they took a little walk. Somehow they wandered off
into an obscure road. An automobile appeared and came to
a sudden stop. Several men jumped out of it and attacked
Reiss. He fought the attacking band but with the aid of
Schildbach, whose strand of hair was found in his clutch,
they forced him into the car. Here one of them, Abbiat-Rossi,
assisted by another, Etienne Martignat, both Paris agents of
the Ogpu, fired a sub-machine gun point-blank at Reiss. His
body was thrown out of the car a short distance away.
Renata Steiner, bom at Saint-Gall, Switzerland, in 1908,
was identified as the person who had hired the American-
made car employed by the assassins of Reiss. Miss Steiner
had been in the Ogpu service since 1935, and had been
assigned previously to shadow Sedov, the son of Trotsky.
She was one of three accomplices in the assassination of
Reiss apprehended by the police. She confessed to her share
in the crime, and helped the authorities to solve it.
There was an expensive sequel to the murder. The Swiss
authorities demanded the interrogation of Lydia Grozov-
skaya, and in spite of the terrific pressure from the Soviet
Embassy, the French authorities had her examined on De-
cember fifteenth. It will be recalled that it was Grozovskaya
who had received the letters of Reiss on July seventeenth,
and turned them over to Spiegelglass. Two days after her
examination she was arrested. The Swiss government de-
manded her extradition. But once more Stalin's diplomatic
hand went to the assistance of his other hand, the hand
engaged in secret murder. The French courts gave Grozov-
skaya her freedom on bail to the amount of 50,000 francs,
and upon her signing a pledge not to leave France. Needless
to say, she disappeared without a trace. The last sight of
Grozovskaya by the French police agents was when she
263
shook them off in a high-powered limousine of the Soviet
Embassy.
When I read of Reiss s death on September fifth, I realized
that my own situation was desperate. Stalin and Yezhov
would never forgive my refusal to participate in this crime.
To them it would mean that I shared Reiss's doubts. I had
before me now the choice between a bullet in the Lubianka
from Stalin's formal executioners and outside Russia a rain
of bullets from a sub-machine gun in the hands of his in-
formal assassins.
This terrifying dilemma was slowly beginning to dawn
upon my wife too. We decided to return to Paris. I was still
going through the motions of preparing to depart for
Moscow. My secretary, Madeleine, found a suitable hotel
for us at St. Germain. We registered at the Henri-Quatre.
Here, about the middle of September, my young aide,
Hans Bruesse showed up. He was in great distress. He had
received instructions to go to Holland, where Mrs. Reiss
was stopping with the Sneevliets, and filch the notes and
papers left by Reiss. He had gone, but returned with empty
hands. He was urged to go back and stop at nothing, not
even murder, in going after the papers. In despair and with
tears in his eyes, he came to me for advice.
I told him that Reiss had been an idealist, a true Com-
munist, and that the future history of the revolutionary and
labor movements would condemn the murders of the Ogpu.
I advised him to sabotage the dangerous errand with which
Spiegelglass had entrusted him, and I told him how to do it
But I still spoke of my imminent return to Moscow, and
Hans knew that Madeleine was trying to secure tickets for
me and my family on the Bretagne.
We moved over from St. Germain to the Hotel Metro-
politain, Rue Cambon, in Paris, where we stayed from the
264
seventeenth of September to the sixth of October. Here
Madeleine came to report that the French liner had made
her last trip of the season. We discussed other ways of get-
ting back home. I was still a high officer of the Soviet Mili-
tary Intelligence. I had to cable Moscow for special per-
mission to leave by a Soviet boat, since Soviet boats are
carefully scrutinized by the secret services of other nations.
I noticed that every step of my own or of my wife was being
dogged by spies, although their master, Speigelglass, had
disappeared.
I received permission from Moscow to take a Soviet boat,
and information that the next vessel to leave Le Havre was
the Zhdanov, sailing October sixth. New passports had to be
prepared for me in the name of a Soviet citizen passing
through France on the way from Spain. My wife and child
were to go back through Germany on a different passport.
One day toward the end of September, my wife asked me
what my chances were of escaping death on my return to
Moscow.
I told her what I thought: "None."
And I added: 'There is no reason why you should be pun-
ished on account of me. When you get back, they will make
you sign a paper repudiating me and denouncing me as a
traitor. As a reward for this, you and our child will be spared.
As for me, it's sure death over there."
My wife began to cry. She hardly stopped crying for weeks
after. The chances of escaping with my life from Stalin's
assassins in France were very slim, but I decided to take
them. I saw the ray of a new life, and I decided to grope
my way toward it. The decision was simple in the abstract,
but the concrete difficulties were enormous.
I had no legal papers. My movements were being watched
day and night. I had no confidant, no person in whom I
265
could put absolute trust. I decided to go to an old friend of
mine who had been living in Paris many years, and take the
risk of telling him the whole truth. He listened sympathet-
ically and agreed to help me. He went to the south of France
and rented a little villa for us in the small town of Hy&res,
near Toulon, returning on October third. The following day
I was called to the Soviet Embassy to complete arrangements
for my return to Russia on the Zhdanov, sailing October
sixth. I went over and made all the arrangements.
Early in the morning of the sixth I checked out of my
hotel and took a taxi to the Gare d'Austerlitz, where I left
my baggage. After passing an hour in the Bois de Vin-
cennes, I met my friend in a cafe near the Bastille and gave
him the check for my baggage. He had meanwhile engaged
a car and chauffeur which was to meet us at the Hotel Bohy-
Lafayette. I went directly there, and he went by way of
the Gare d'Austerlitz where he picked up my baggage. Our
chauffeur turned out to be an American, a World War
veteran who had settled in France. He was tinder the im-
pression that he was taking a family for a vacation trip.
All these movements were precautionary measures de-
signed to throw the Ogpu agents off our track. We were ex-
pected to leave that day for Le Havre, to board the Soviet
ship. Instead, we were headed by motor for Dijon. On the
outskirts of Paris I stopped to telephone Madeleine, inform-
ing her of my break with the Soviet government. She made
no reply when I told her the news. I learned later that she
had fainted at the telephone.
We reached Dijon at nine that evening, dismissed the car
at the station, and took the train for the C6te d'Azur. At seven
the following morning we arrived at our hide-out in Hy&res.
The same evening our friend returned to Paris to take up
the task of getting me the protection of the authorities.
266
Early in November I came back to Paris. Through the
attorney for Mrs. Reiss I established connections with Leon
Sedov, Trotsky's son, who was editing the "Bulletin of the
Opposition" and with the leaders of the Russian Menshevik
Socialists exiled in Paris. Leon Blum was then in power and
they were on the best of terms with his government. I had
written to Mrs. Reiss, and also to Hans and Norah, in whom I
had implicit confidence, asking them to insert an advertise-
ment in the Paris Oeuvre if they wished to meet me. I be-
lieved that Hans would follow me in breaking with Stalin.
When I saw Sedov I told him frankly that I did not come
to join the Trotskyites, but for advice and comradeship. He
received me cordially, and I saw him thereafter almost
daily. I learned to admire this son of Leon Trotsky as a per-
sonality in his own right. I shall never forget the disinterested
help and comfort he gave me in those days when the Stalin
agents were after me. He was still very young, but was
exceptionally gifted charming, well informed, efficient In
the treason trials in Moscow it was said that he received vast
sums of money from Hitler and the Mikado. I found him liv-
ing the life of a revolutionist, toiling all day in the cause of
the opposition, in actual need of better food and clothing.
Three months later, healthy and in the prime of life, he died
suddenly in a Paris hospital. Many people, including his
father, thought that the Ogpu had a hand in his death.
It was Theodore Dan, the leader of the Russian Socialists,
and his associates who arranged with Leon Blum's govern-
ment to furnish me identification papers and police protec-
tion. Before that, however, the Ogpu had made its first at-
tempt upon my life.
I had written to Hans that only in case he decided to
break with Stalin should he get in touch with me. I received
word from him that he was stopping as usual at the Hotel
267
Breton > Rue Duphot, and would be glad to see me. I tele-
phoned, and we made an appointment to meet at a caf 6 near
the Place de la Bastille. I was at a table in the caf6 when
he entered.
"I come in the name of the organization/' were almost his
first words. I realized instantly that Hans had been cast in
the role of Gertrude Schildbach and that my life was in
danger. Although grievously shocked, for I had deep faith
in this youth, I collected my wits quickly and became aware
of an unusual group of men at the table next to us. They
were smoking Austrian cigarettes it was a small petit bour-
geois French cafe I felt very sure they were in the Ogpu
service.
Hans told me that he had come to Paris intent upon break-
ing with the service, but that for two days a special commis-
sioner from Moscow had argued with him, and had finally
convinced him that I was wrong, that everything Stalin did
was for the good of the cause. Hans then began to propa-
gandize me, using all the old arguments so familiar in my
own mind. In the circumstances I thought best to pretend
that he was making a deep impression on me.
"They know in Moscow that you are not a traitor, not a
spy," he said. "You are a good revolutionist, but you are tired.
You're breaking under the strain. Perhaps they'll just let you
go away and take a good rest Anyway you are one of us."
So the youth argued.
'Weren't you on the train, all set to go home on August
twenty-first? You will go back yet. We will take you there.
Anyhow, the commissioner from Moscow understands your
problem, and wants to have a good talk with you. You know
the man, of course, but I have no right to give you his name,"
While Hans talked I watched his hands to see if he were
making any signal to the group at the adjoining table. I was
268
in a trap and I was thinking fast. Having but recently aban-
doned his point of view it was easy for me to say exactly the
words Hans wanted me to. I expressed to him my gratifica-
tion that they had sent such an intelligent man over from
Moscow, I displayed great eagerness to meet this man and
straighten things out.
"Spiegelglass was just an idiot and a plain thug," I said.
"This man you are talking about seems to understand my
case perfectly/*
Hans and I discussed the proposed conference with the
special commissioner. He suggested that I might meet the
man. in Holland, at the home of his wife's parents, whom I
knew very well. I readily agreed, perceiving that the plan
was to lure me away from France which was still seething
with the Miller and Reiss cases. Hans seemed happy at his
success, and I was sure that I saw him signal to the unpleas-
ant neighbors that all was going well. We fixed a tentative
date for the meeting, and I felt that I had outwitted at least
for the first time, the assassins of the Ogpu.
Pleading hunger, I invited Hans to go to a good restaurant
with me and hailed a passing cab. I noticed that we were
not followed, and was well satisfied with my escape. Our
lunch was not enjoyable, and it took quite a f few cab rides
to shake off Hans after we parted. It was even harder to
shake off the bitter thought of his betrayal.
After that happened I appealed to M. Dormoy, the French
Socialist Minister of the Interior, revealing my identity and
soliciting the protection of his government. I surrendered all
my false passports and those of my wife to Theodore Dan for
delivery to M. Dormoy. In my appeal to him I referred to my
Soviet service from 1919 to 1937, and continued:
"Recent political events in the Soviet Union have com-
pletely changed the situation* . . . Confronted with the
269
choice of going to my death together with all my old com-
rades or trying to save my life and my family, I have de-
cided not to deliver myself in silence to the Stalin terror. . . .
"I know that a price has been put on my head. The assas-
sins are after me, and they will not spare even my wife or
child. I have often risked my life for my cause, but I do not
wish to die now for nothing.
"I seek your protection for myself and my family, and
your permission to remain in France until I am able to go to
another country to earn a living and find independence and
security."
In response to my appeal, the Minister of the Interior
ordered the Paris police to issue me a carte <identit& y on the
basis of which I later secured passports to the United States.
An inspector of police, Maurice Maupin, was assigned to
guard me and accompany me to Hyeres, where he would
make arrangements for the protection of my family. The
Minister of the Interior gave his assurance that his govern-
ment demanded nothing of me, and was only interested in
seeing to it that no harm should befall me on French terri-
tory, since he wished to avoid any further injury to Franco-
Soviet relations.
Accompanied by Inspector Maupin, I returned to Hy&res
for a brief visit, my destination being known only to half a
dozen people in all Paris. We reached Marseilles late Monday
evening. The train stopped at the station for half an hour.
Another train obstructed my view of the platform. As it
pulled out a few minutes after our arrival, I caught sight of
Hans Bruesse, wearing a rain coat and walking rapidly
toward another man, motioning with his hand.
I cried out to Inspector Maupin: 'There are the assassins!"
I had recognized in the companion of Hans the familiar
figure of Krai, senior lieutenant of the Soviet Ogpu. The in-
270
spector and I made a dash out of our compartment. On the
opposite side of the train, across the tracks, two other men
were standing. Hans had either seen my agitation, or heard
my cry of alarm, and as Inspector Maupin and I jumped
from the train the four men fled with their hands in their
pockets. The inspector had pulled out his gun and we gave
chase. But when we reached the end of the platform he
stopped and commanded me to stand against the wall.
Standing guard in front of me, he said:
"My orders are to bring you safely back to Paris. I am not
prepared to capture four armed assassins single-handed."
He expressed the belief that they carried hand grenades.
It was midnight, and there were no gendarmes in sight.
Hans and his companions got away, and we returned to our
compartment. To this day I do not know how the Ogpu
found out my route and schedule.
Notwithstanding the inspector's opinion, I judge that the
plan was to abduct me from the train and take me to a safe
place in Marseilles, an ideal city for such an operation,
where I could either be kept until the arrival of a Soviet
boat, or disposed of more simply.
In December I moved my family from the hide-out in
Hyeres, and we took up quarters at the Hotel des Academies,
Rue Saints Peres, Paris, next door to a police station. The
authorities assigned three policemen to guard us. They occu-
pied a room adjoining ours, working on eight-hour shifts.
Day and night, an officer stood guard at the hotel entrance.
During the last treason trial, held in Moscow in March,
1938, French kbor journalists urged me to speak out. I
gave an interview to Boris Souvarine, formerly on the Execu-
tive Committee of the Communist International, now a con-
tributing editor to the Paris Figaro, and to Gaston Bergery,
member of the Chamber of Deputies, son-in-law of Leonid
271
Krassin, late Soviet ambassador to Great Britain. M. Bergery,
who now edits an independent weekly in Paris, had been one
of the first Frenchmen to sponsor the Franco-Soviet alliance,
but had been disillusioned by the purge.
I also wrote some articles, interpreting the news from
Moscow, for the Socialist Courier, a magazine published in
Paris by the exiled Russian Social Democrats. These articles
were reprinted by arrangement in the Social Democrat of
Stockholm and a paper of the same name in Copenhagen,
both official organs of the Socialist parties then in power in
Sweden and Denmark. Their publication caused Moscow to
file diplomatic protests with the Swedish and Danish gov-
ernments. These governments replied that in their countries
the press was free.
Even in the United States Stalin's long arm of vengeance
has tried to reach me. On Tuesday, March 7, 1939, about
four in the afternoon, in company with one of the edi-
tors of a New York labor paper, I went to a restaurant on
42nd Street, in the vicinity of Times Square. Fifteen ihin-
utes after our arrival, three men sat down at a table next to
us. I recognized one of them. In our secret service he was
known by the nickname of Jim, but his real name was
Sergei Basoff. Originally a sailor in the Crimea, a veteran
agent of the Soviet Military Intelligence, Basoff had been
sent to the United States years ago to serve as a permanent
agent here, and for this purpose had become an American
citizen.
Knowing the ways of Stalin, I had no doubt that he had
entrusted the job of organizing a hunt for me on this side
of the Atlantic to Colonel Boris Bykov. I knew that Bykov
was in charge of the Soviet Military Intelligence in the United
States, having been assigned to America in the summer
of 1936.
272
My companion and I rose to leave the restaurant hastily,
but Basoff caught up with me at the cashier's desk. He
greeted me in a most friendly way.
"Did you come to shoot me?" I said.
"No, indeed, this is unofficial. I just want to have a friendly
chat with you/'
I knew that Gertrude Schildbach and Hans Bruesse had
begun their work with these same friendly chats. However,
I let Basoff walk with me to a near-by publishing house,
where I had a friend. My companion fell behind, and was
accosted by the other two men. But they did not dare to enter
the building occupied by the publishing house.
My chat with Basoff was about mutual friends in Moscow
and in the foreign service. Arrived in my friend's office, I
told Basoff that I did not want to see him again, and thought
it might be best for him to dear out of the country.
I stayed at the publishing house long after he had left.
I stayed until nine in the evening when a group of additional
friends,, informed by telephone of my predicament, arrived.
It was now the theater hour, with plenty of police in the block
and no cars parked. I got away safely once more.
273
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