Glasnost in action

Glasnost in Action: Cultural Renaissance in Russia

This book – now nearly 25 years old – is in one sense a relic of a different era. A time when the idea that the Soviet Union would cease to exist would have been treated as fantastic and even that its basic “socialist” character would crumble as unlikely.

But it is also a reminder of other things – that hopes were high, of when Boris Yeltsin was a heroic reformer and not a corrupt drunk, when a whole country began to step into the light of historical truth for the first time in more than sixty years, when people were allowed to tell the truth about their suffering in the Great Patriotic War and not just salute “the victors” in that most desperate and yet so necessary fight.

A friend suggested to me that the reason I loved this book so much is not because it takes me back to a time when every new day brought an exciting revelation and when we could dream of the end of the threat of imminent nuclear confrontation, but because it just reminded me of being 23 again… maybe there is some truth in that, but I think there is more to it.

The days since “the end of history” was proclaimed with the collapse of the Soviet Union have hardly ushered in peace and plenty – perhaps there were other routes that could have been taken – not least the Gorbachev-sceptics in the west could have been dismissed as what they were – leftovers from the Cold War. One doesn’t have to regret the passing of the Soviet Union to regret the manner of its passing – the collapse into a void that means that of all the successor states only three – in the Baltics – have emerged as fully successful liberal democracies and only another three – Moldova, Georgia and Ukraine – have even seriously tried to follow that path.


Blood on all their hands

Economic History of the USSR

This map shows the 1974 geographic location of...

This map shows the 1974 geographic location of various ethnic groups within the Soviet Union. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

“The past is always with us, it’s not even past.” In the case of this book, this is very true: I bought it in 1989 or 1990 read a few pages, put it down and then “lost” it. I genuinely don’t know where it has been for most of the intervening years, but just a few weeks ago I noticed it, in close to pristine condition, on the top shelf of a bookcase and – having read Applebaum on Eastern Europe – I thought the time had come to finish the job (or restart it – I don’t claim to recall the pages I covered three decades ago).

Since 1989 both the Soviet Union and Alec Nove have passed on, but Nove is surely the greater loss to humanity: as the book makes very clear, murder and Soviet economics went hand in hand from the very start.

Nove’s work is powerful both because he was Russian (his family were Mensheviks I believe) and so has read in the original, and he’s on the left. This is not to say that the objective facts change from a political perspective but to know that his work is impervious to the claim of anti-Soviet propaganda.

The bulk of the book describes the terrible years of Stalin’s long rule – most Soviet citizens (the ones who survived) were poorer in 1950 than in 1913 (and while the struggle of the Great Patriotic War was plainly a major factor in that, the book shows it is not a good enough excuse). But from the very start we see that Lenin and Trotsky too were all in favour of brutal methods. Indeed the Stalinist plan for “socialism in one country” bears a great resemblance to the Trotskyists “primitive socialist accumulation“: treat the peasants (80% of the population in 1928) as the class enemy and squeeze them for all they are worth.

Of course the Stalinists did more – mass deportations of the “Kulaks” and engineering a famine in the early 1930s – but how can the Trotskyists claim their hero would have been better? The man who urged the Red Army to shoot the Kronstadt mutineers “down like partridges” has no moral clothes to hide behind. (Though it is difficult to disagree with Nove’s view that the Stalin famine was a crime against peasants, many of whom were Ukrainian rather than a crime against Ukrainians, many of whom were peasants.)

Further, Nove shows how a lack of democracy and debate worsened the economic situation. One only has to look at how Trotskyists behave – to one another never mind those they have a fundamental disagreement with – to know that democracy and Leninism do not mix.

The book feels strange because it is written with  the Soviet Union in full existence and even – in 1989 (the year of my revised edition) – before the nationalist pressures in the Baltics and the Caucasus were widely visible. Nove writes that we will need to wait to the 21st century to be able to make a critical examination of the impact of the Gorbachev reforms.

The history of the post-Soviet states is a mixed one. The Baltics have become liberal democratic republics – though lies have been told about the role of many of their citizens in Hitler’s murders and they treated many within their borders as second class citizens. Ukraine, Georgia and Moldova have struggled to make the transition to democracy and liberalism but with limited success (though hope should not be abandoned for any of them). Russia and the rest are in varying degrees authoritarian failures. But no one can read Nove’s book and wish for a return of the USSR.


Barn doors and banjos

English: List from Eastern Europe AMS Topograp...

English: List from Eastern Europe AMS Topographic Maps. Series N501, U.S. Army Map Service, 1954 Русский: Лист из набора карт Восточной Европы Картографической военной службы США. Серия 501. 1954 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Iron Curtain: The Crushing of Eastern Europe 1944-56

At the very end of this book Anne Applebaum says there is a need to tell the story of the Stalinist take-over of Eastern Europe without resorting to caricature or a tale of villains. She is right. Yet she fails to do it.

In writing this I want to make clear my complaint is not that she attacks the Communists. It is that in her determination to show the (leading) Communists as uniformly, consistently, inflexibly and completely evil she lets them off the hook. And they certainly do not deserve that.

Once or twice in the book she comes close to letting the Communists speak in their own terms and then the effect is far more devastating than the vast majority of the book where she just piles on her pre-determined narrative. Here are people talking of “democracy” while building a police state – we do not need to be reminded they are criminals, their own words reveal them to be so.

Here and there a junior figure in the Communist world – the ultimately heroic Jacek Kuroń is one example – is allowed to express their doubts and their uncertainties, to have a conscience – but such moral greyness is not permitted for the top leaders: but surely they too were once sincere in their hopes?

And so, for instance, the brutality of the regimes – which must have become increasingly horrific and shocking to those who lived under them – is portrayed as a constant as opposed to a ratchet (as Applebaum seems unwilling to concede that the regimes degenerated as they were always so evil or at best on a pre-determined path to full, brutal, dictatorship).

That said it is also seems obvious that Applebaum has difficulties in being objective. Her refusal to list the Soviet Union’s casualties in the second world war while discussing those of everyone else sticks out like a sore thumb. The Soviets may have been paranoid and vicious in their treatment of people they thought to  be a threat to “peace” but it is surely also important to examine why they might have been so. As I have seen another reviewer remark, she treats the Soviet anxiety to conquer Berlin as quickly as possible as though it was a fault: when surely it was both right and natural to want to see the Nazis utterly crushed as rapidly as was feasible?

Similarly there is no consideration of the politics of the West and indeed the whole European dynamic and its impact on Eastern Europe. Applebaum more or less dismisses the idea that Cold War politics made things worse in the East early on in her book, but it is also plain, from reading it, that in some way 1947 did mark a crucial break year. Whether an attempt at “detente” would have made any difference in the long run is another question – and it is difficult to be optimistic – but don’t Finland and Austria (both ignored here) show that the Soviet response was not necessarily monolithic?

Further she seems reluctant to discuss the legacy of pre-war politics in any of the countries she discusses. Maybe those claims that opponents of Soviet occupation were “fascists” had some basis in truth? Or at least enough basis in enough cases to persuade a big enough minority in the countries of Eastern Europe to agree that the ruling regimes had a point?

It’s all a great pity because in here there is a great book struggling to get out. Once or twice we glimpse it – she is particularly good in her discussion of socialist realism, for instance. But most of all we get a mess – a readable mess, for sure – but in the space of a few pages we are first told that the “Moscow Communists” (those who spent the 1930s and the war in the Soviet Union) had long had plans for a takeover, then that they did not plan to make their countries miniature Soviet Unions, and then that they did not know what to do. One of these three is right, but they cannot all be.


Out of Korea

The Coldest Winter

I bought this enormous tome – David Halberstam’s account of America and the Korean War – a few years ago, read the first chapter, a rather dry account of the first military encounter of US and Chinese forces in the war and put it down disappointedly.

English: 1st Marine Regiment, on supply and wi...

English: 1st Marine Regiment, on supply and withdrawal route of 5th and 7th Marines, had to repel repeated attacks by Chinese communists. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

But it was always floating about somewhere near my pillow ever since and for some reason I picked it up a few weeks ago, ignored the first chapter and started to read the rest and discovered a great book.

Not all of it works – it is too long and a bit repetitive at times – there are only so many times you need to be told by Halberstam what a great soldier Matt Ridgway was – and the absolute writing out of the Koreans, especially civilians, borders on the obscene: this is very much about America and not much else.

Yet the book is a great one because it challenges the ever more dominant view that the real fault of the western countries in the Cold War was to be insufficiently hardline in their opposition to the Communist “monolith”. These views echo those of the late 1940s and early 1950s era of McCarthyism (although there is little red baiting today) and, the book argues convincingly, were wrong then and, by extension, are wrong today.

Since the fall of the Berlin Wall and the subsequent collapse of the Soviet Union the idea that confrontation “won” the Cold War while detente prolonged it has become close to an orthodoxy, while the book reminds us that the global spread of states aligned to the Soviet Union had rather more to do with the Soviets’ willingness to sponsor nationalist and anti-colonialist movements (how cynical this sponsorship was was not likely to matter to the nationalists who had no other friends)  and the west’s willingness to prop-up corrupt dictatorships.

And China was the first and biggest example. What the book made clear to me – and I was really unaware of this – was just how important “losing China” was in US domestic politics. China was the “white man’s burden” for many in the US, and many ordinary US citizens had, through their churches, spent millions on missionaries and harboured dreams of a great Christian nation (eternally grateful or subservient to the US of course) arising there.

The truth of Chiang Kai-shek’s leadership, his unwillingness to fight the Japanese, the foul corruption of his state was systematically hidden from (or ignored by) the American people, partly for reasons of state, partly because no one wanted to hear it. US military missions to the Chinese Communists during the second world war returned with admiration, while those to the Nationalists returned with contempt, but neither was allowed to tell the truth.

Then, after the war, the US spent millions on arming the Nationalists (though those arms almost all ended up in Communist hands) and organised the greatest military airlift ever seen to ensure the Nationalists were able to control all of China’s major cities within weeks of the war’s end. The alternative – of seeing the Communists as having national interests and outlooks that would differ from those of the Soviet Union and drawing their support from legitimate popular disgust for the rule of the war lords and the Nationalists – was never given proper consideration. Instead of stepping back from the Chinese civil war the US was an active participant and domestic politics forced the Truman administration to highlight this even after the side they had backed had lost and efforts should have been focused on dealing with the new reality.

In the end the US’s failure to come to terms with the Communist victory in China strengthened the hand of the most uncompromising in the Chinese leadership – of which, of course, Mao Zedong was the leading example. Confrontation with China and the rejection of a detente policy strengthened the grip of the most extreme in the regime.

And when the North Korean army was routed after the landings at Incheon in September 1950 and Douglas McArthur ordered his forces north, the very clear signals from the Chinese that they would not tolerate a US army on their border were ignored – partly because anti-Communist hardliners and “China Firsters” (such as McArthur, who never set foot on the Chinese mainland but claimed Chiang was a great leader) wanted a general war with the Chinese in any case, and partly because racist considerations would never let them see that the Chinese were skilled fighters and a real threat. The result was a shocking military disaster. Though ultimately many more Chinese were to die than Americans, the US, just a few years after the triumph of the Second World War, were reduced to admitting they were in a battle they could not win.

Along the way the book paints a picture of how US politics were twisted by lobbyists for Chiang and how McCarthyism was born out of, not a sense of the need for the US to crusade against Communism in all corners of the world, but of isolationism and a tension as much inside the Republican party as between Republicans and Democrats. The parallels and lessons for today are everywhere to be seen: we still live in the Korean era in a very real sense.

Of course we are also invited to see how the Korean disaster led on to the yet greater folly in Vietnam (and we could add, even if the book does not, propping up the Shah in Iran, dishing out guns to Saddam in Iraq and regarding apartheid South Africa as an ally). The epilogue is a less than fully flattering, even if sympathetic, portrait of Kennedy and Johnson.

Reading the book takes effort – it is very long and the military passages in particular can be hard going (the book lacks photographs to humanise the commanders written of and also any formal description of the US order of battle – making it hard to follow which army, which corps, which division we are talking about at any one time), but in the end it is well worth it not just for the historical perspective but also because of what it tells us of today’s world.