ArticlePDF Available

End of the ‘Low, Dishonest Decade’: Failure of the Anglo-Franco-Soviet Alliance in 1939

Authors:
End of the 'Low, Dishonest Decade': Failure of the Anglo-Franco-Soviet Alliance in 1939
Author(s): Michael Jabara Carley
Source:
Europe-Asia Studies,
Vol. 45, No. 2 (1993), pp. 303-341
Published by: Taylor & Francis, Ltd.
Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/152863
Accessed: 12/09/2009 06:36
Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of JSTOR's Terms and Conditions of Use, available at
http://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp. JSTOR's Terms and Conditions of Use provides, in part, that unless
you have obtained prior permission, you may not download an entire issue of a journal or multiple copies of articles, and you
may use content in the JSTOR archive only for your personal, non-commercial use.
Please contact the publisher regarding any further use of this work. Publisher contact information may be obtained at
http://www.jstor.org/action/showPublisher?publisherCode=taylorfrancis.
Each copy of any part of a JSTOR transmission must contain the same copyright notice that appears on the screen or printed
page of such transmission.
JSTOR is a not-for-profit organization founded in 1995 to build trusted digital archives for scholarship. We work with the
scholarly community to preserve their work and the materials they rely upon, and to build a common research platform that
promotes the discovery and use of these resources. For more information about JSTOR, please contact support@jstor.org.
Taylor & Francis, Ltd. is collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and extend access to Europe-Asia
Studies.
http://www.jstor.org
EUROPE-ASIA
STUDIES,
Vol. 45, No. 2, 1993, 303-341
End of the 'Low, Dishonest Decade':
Failure of the Anglo-Franco-Soviet
Alliance in 1939
MICHAEL JABARA CARLEY
In September 1939, as World War II began, W. H. Auden wrote a verse which
poignantly described the 1930s, so well in fact that the poem is sometimes remem-
bered in the context of the failure of appeasement:
I sit in one of the dives on Fifty-Second Street
Uncertain and afraid
As the clever hopes expire
Of a low dishonest decade:
Waves of anger and fear
Circulate
over the bright
And darkened
lands of the earth,
Obsessing our private lives;
The unmentionable
odour of death
Offends the September
night...
Auden's 'low, dishonest decade' began with the Great Depression and unfolded as
Nazism and Stalinism oppressed Europe and Soviet Asia. The Anglo-French policy
of appeasement led to the abandonment of Abyssinia, Austria and Spain and the
betrayal of Czechoslovakia. Yet in spite of all this, the decade was not without
moments of hope. The USSR, and especially its commissar for foreign affairs, Maxim
Maximovich Litvinov, offered 'collective security', or an anti-Nazi alliance, to France
and Great Britain. Paradoxically, Stalin's blood-drenched wickedness did not mean
that Soviet foreign policy was wicked also. But in France and Great Britain the
determination to resist fascism was sapped by hatred of bolshevism, fear of socialist
revolution, and sneaking admiration for Hitler's repression of the left. Inter-war
anti-bolshevism was in fact so like anti-communism after 1945 that it poses the
question of when the Cold War began and whether it was a cause or an effect of war
in 1939. Anti-bolshevism inspired illusions that Nazi Germany could be encouraged
to expand eastward-peaceably, economically, to be sure-to run up against the
USSR. The two scorpions' parlous embrace would leave France and Great Britain out
of harm's way.
Such illusions were dissipated after Nazi Germany destroyed the rump of
Czechoslovakia in March 1939. Romania and Poland seemed next on Germany's list.
Should these states fall, France and Great Britain would themselves be threatened.
MICHAEL
CARLEY
Perhaps an arrangement
with the USSR would be desirable after all. Opposition
elements and public opinion in Great Britain and France - both left and right -
insisted on it. In April the Soviet government proposed
a tripartite
alliance, which the
British and French rejected. The three governments bargained and bickered over
endless wordings of the terms of an agreement.
The negotiations which should have
been most secret were leaked to the press on all sides and unfolded in an almost circus
atmosphere,
belying their deadly importance.
In August the French
and British finally
sent missions to Moscow to conclude a military agreement against Nazi Germany.
But the talks quickly stalled over the passage of the Red Army across Poland and
Romania to meet the enemy. On 23 August the Soviet government signed instead a
non-aggression pact with Nazi Germany. A week later the German army invaded
Poland.
Historians have written voluminously on why the negotiations failed.' Stalin was
perfidious
and had deceived the French and British
while secretly negotiating
with the
Germans. 'Glutinous knavery ... surrounded
the German-Soviet Non-Aggression
Pact'.2
On the other hand, Soviet historians
like V. Ya. Sipols have asserted that the
French and British did not intend to negotiate seriously and were just stringing along
the Soviet government.3
Watt
writes that such an interpretation
ignores the earnestness
of Anglo-French
policy makers; the USSR 'destroyed British hopes of an Eastern
Front' against Nazi Germany.4
The French especially, reasserting
their policy inde-
pendence after several years under the British thumb, sought a Soviet alliance and
pressed the British to do likewise.5 Roberts argues-and Watt concurs-that 'the
perception
that British and French
leaders were mainly motivated
by anti-bolshevism
was completely off-beam'. This is not a new idea: Feiling wrote after the war that
British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain
had no ideological prejudice.6 The
ideologues, say Watt and Roberts,
were on the Soviet side.7 The contrary
view is not
new either: anti-appeasement
Conservatives accused Chamberlain and his circle of
confusing their class interests with those of their country.8
Duroselle speaks of the
'decadence' of French society.9 Girault has written of a divided France rent by
ideological divisions between right and left which paralysed
the French
government.'?
The maverick British historian A. J. P. Taylor in his much discussed-and much
dismissed-Origins of the Second World War aptly noted that Western reproaches
with regard
to the Nazi-Soviet non-aggression
pact 'came ill from the statesmen
who
went to Munich... The Russians, in fact, did only what the Western statesmen
had
hoped to do; and Western
bitterness was the bitterness
of disappointment,
mixed with
anger that professions of communism were no more sincere than their own profes-
sions of democracy'." Taylor, like Soviet historians Medvedev and Volkogonov,
concluded that the West left the Soviet government little choice but to conclude a
non-aggression
pact with Hitler.'2
However, 'few historians',
writes Gorodetsky,
'take
seriously the invariable
Soviet claim .. . that the Soviet Union signed the pact under
duress, regarding
it as the lesser of two evils'."3
The study of Soviet archives, which are beginning to open, may prove or disprove
this view, but for now Soviet deceitfulness-though Stalin was certainly proficient
in
it-appears no worse than that of France and Great Britain. The published Soviet
documents,
which have not been extensively used by historians,
show a commissariat
for foreign affairs (Narkomindel)
anxious for agreement
with the West and angered
304
THE ANGLO-FRANCO-SOVIET ALLIANCE IN 1939
by continued
Western rebuffs.
Narkomindel
officials appear
on the whole to have been
astute political observers and good at their
job. However, other evidence to confirm
Soviet earnestness
comes not from farsighted Soviet diplomats, as opposed to their
pudding-headed Anglo-French counterparts,
but from Anglo-French diplomats,
politi-
cians, or soldiers, ignored by those who held ultimate
power in London and Paris.
The
Western 'pragmatic' view-regarded as 'fatuous'
by Chamberlain
and his retinue-is
sometimes reported
and sometimes not in the historical literature. It may be found in
British and French archival sources and Soviet published documents available now
for some time. The papers
of Paul-Emile
Naggiar,
the French ambassador
in Moscow,
have not been hitherto cited in this context, but are useful because they represent
a
virtually complete set of the Paris-Moscow cable traffic
during
the crucial months of
1939-important in view of the destruction of French archives during the war-and
because Naggiar left many contemporary
and post facto marginal
comments critical
of the Anglo-French conduct of negotiations with the Soviet government. His
comments,
as well as those of other French and British
pragmatists
are here reported,
and corroborate the evidence of the Soviet published papers.14
One point is certain:
events in 1939 cannot be considered
outside the context of the
inter-war
years. Soviet relations with Great Britain and France were almost always
bad. In 1924 the 'Zinoviev letter' allowed the Tories to return to power after a short
Labour interlude on the wings of anti-communist
hysteria; in 1925 the French and
British
governments sought to organise
an oil embargo against
the USSR; in 1927 the
British government
broke off diplomatic relations with Moscow. In the same year
anti-communism and 'red-baiting'
electoral politics in France led to a fierce press
campaign against the Soviet ambassador
in Paris, driving him from his post. The
Soviet government's support
for revolution in China and the Third International or
Comintern's
revolutionary propaganda
aggravated
and imperilled relations with the
West. To little avail, Narkomindel
attempted during
the 1920s to distance itself from
the Comintern and to enhance Soviet security and economic growth.
In the 1930s relations
were scarcely better.
In 1930 the French
government,
goaded
on by the anti-communist
press, launched an abortive trade war with the USSR. In
1932 the British government
abrogated
the Anglo-Soviet trade agreement.
Only the
growing strength
of Nazism in Germany
gave the French
cause for reflection.
In 1932
a centre-left French government signed a non-aggression pact with the USSR; in
1934 a trade agreement
was signed; and in the following year a mutual assistance
pact. There was no corresponding improvement
of Anglo-Soviet relations,
and in fact
the British government
had qualms about the conclusion of the Franco-Soviet
mutual
assistance pact.15
By the time the pact was signed, in May 1935, so did the French.
Its animators,
the radical
Herriot and socialist Paul-Boncour,
were out of office or out
of the way; and the conservative Barthou was dead, murdered
by a Croatian fascist
in October 1934. Barthou was succeeded by Pierre Laval, who was partial to an
accommodation
with the fascist states. In 1934 Laval's views were no secret, and
Charles
Alphand,
French ambassador
in Moscow, warned
him bluntly that if France
attempted
to come to terms with Germany, 'the Soviets would not hesitate to try to
outbid us' in Berlin. Laval paid little attention,
and the 'wall of money', or Banque
de France, driven by anti-bolshevism, blocked the deepening of Franco-Soviet
economic relations.16
305
MICHAEL
CARLEY
Franco-Soviet staff talks, 1935-37
The Soviet government, which worried about French commitment to the mutual
assistance pact, sought to strengthen Franco-Soviet relations through the conduct
of military staff talks. Laval himself had raised the idea-in a moment of excess
enthusiasm
or double-talking
jabber-with Stalin in Moscow in May 1935.17 Soviet
representatives pressed the French relentlessly for talks. Laval had scarcely
returned from Moscow before the Soviet military
attache
broached the question with
a French deputy chief of staff.'8 But scarcely had Laval returned to Paris before
the French began to stall, a point the Soviet ambassador
in Paris, V. P. Potemkin,
was quick to report to Moscow. The general staff blamed the delay on Laval,
but the generals themselves were in no hurry to parley. France did not need a
military agreement
with the USSR which would only provide Nazi Germany
with a
pretext
to denounce
the 1925 Locarno Western
security agreements
and reoccupy the
demilitarised
Rhineland.
Poland, fearing the USSR more than Nazi Germany,
would
be pushed into the arms of Hitler while French relations with Great Britain would
also suffer.'9 In the latter half of 1935 Franco-Soviet relations
languished
and soured.
Laval was toppled by the Abyssinian crisis in January 1936, and a palpably
relieved Alphand cabled Paris that perhaps now the damage of recent months
could be undone.20
But Laval was not the only opposition to closer ties with
Moscow.
While Potemkin warned
that too much interest
in staff talks might be counterpro-
ductive, the Soviet government was impatient to see a ratification
of the mutual
assistance pact, delayed by Laval, and a start
to military talks.21
Soviet efforts could
not have come at a worse time. French national
elections took place in May 1936 in
an atmosphere
of deepening political acrimony between right and left. The Popular
Front of Communists, Socialists and Radicals won the elections and formed a
government under Leon Blum, but frightened the French right, which feared the
spread of communism. Such fears made a deepening of Franco-Soviet relations
impossible, although
the German
occupation
of the Rhineland in March 1936 led to
ratification of the mutual assistance
pact. The USSR was far away and had no borders
with Germany.
For the right, the Soviet Union was pushing Europe toward war and
preparing
the way for world revolution. Potemkin
judged that the French
government
had lost its nerve when the German
army
entered
the Rhineland and dared not alienate
Great Britain. The government's mood was exemplified by the 'dark and desperate
pessimism' of Alexis Leger, the influential
secretary-general
of the Quai d'Orsay, the
French foreign ministry.22
While the Soviet government
doubted
French
commitment
to the mutual
assistance
pact, it continued
to press for staff talks. At the end of June 1936 Litvinov raised the
issue with Yvon Delbos, the French foreign minister, as did E. V. Girshfeld, the
Soviet charge d'affaires
in Paris, with the deputy
chief of staff, General
Schweisguth.
Girshfeld conceded that the lack of a common Soviet-German border impeded
Franco-Soviet
military cooperation,
but unless the French and Soviet staffs met to
discuss common defence issues, there could be no serious cooperation
between them.
The French government
feared provoking Germany:
would staff talks have to wait
until Hitler was ready to attack?23
The unfortunate
answer to this question became
only too apparent
three years later.
306
THE ANGLO-FRANCO-SOVIET ALLIANCE
IN 1939
Schweisguth
went as an observer to Red Army manoeuvres in September
1936, at
which time the deputy commissar for war, Tukhachevsky, asked the unwelcome
question again.24
So did Litvinov with Blum the following month. With remarkable
candour,
Blum said that talks were being 'sabotaged' by the general staff and by the
war minister, Edouard Daladier. Soviet orders for war materiel were also being
blocked by the military bureaucracy.
Potemkin said that the Soviet government
was
beginning to doubt French sincerity in facilitating the build-up of Soviet arms.25
'Repeated' Soviet initiatives for staff talks put the French
government
ill at ease, but
Daladier was afraid 'to alarm certain friendly powers and to provide Germany
with
the easy pretext
of an attempt
at encirclement'. The French
war ministry
blocked the
sale of modem military, especially naval materiel, likewise because of anticipated
British objections. It did not mind, however, selling obsolete materiel
to the USSR.26
As the leader of an unstable left-centre coalition in a bitter political environment,
Blum faced formidable obstacles in deepening Franco-Soviet relations. Daladier's
opposition legitimised the general staff's objections and emboldened permanent
officials at the Quai d'Orsay, like Leger. But not all members of the Blum
government were hostile. Radical Socialist Pierre Cot, the air minister, shared the
views of Herriot and Paul-Boncour and was prepared to start staff talks on the
narrower basis of air force cooperation
without a cabinet decision. Daladier
resisted,
but Cot pressed on, quite prepared
to drag the government
along after him.27
On 6
November 1936 he seemed to win the point as the Cabinet
agreed to start staff talks
initially with the Soviet military attache. The breakthrough
was deceptive: Daladier
and the chief of staff, General Gamelin went along to take the initiative out of Cot's
hands and to reassert control. 'It would be difficult', noted Schweisguth, 'to delay any
longer without the risk that the air ministry
would take control of the movement. . .28
On 9 November
Blum advised Potemkin that Cot's initiative was to be broadened
and
that Gamelin
was coming round. 'In comparison
with the previous situation',
he said,
'it was a step forward', The Soviet government appeared
to take Blum at his word,
but feared the negative consequences if the talks failed.29
At the same time Robert Coulondre arrived in Moscow as the new French
ambassador.
In his first audience with Litvinov on 10 November,
he complained
about
communist
propaganda
in France.
The position of the Radicals was critical, and they
were running
scared of communism. Litvinov gave assurances and in fact did not care
a jot about French communists. He observed to Coulondre that France and the USSR
had a common interest
in safeguarding
the peace against
Nazi Germany.
Hitler sought
to disrupt
this unity of purpose by whipping up fears of communism.
Would France
play into Nazi hands?30
Coulondre
did not report
his reply, but Litvinov's plea would
have fallen on deaf ears in any case. Ideological fears were the mainstay
of opposition
to closer Franco-Soviet
military
ties. The growth of the French Communist
Party
and
the Spanish
civil war frightened
the grande bourgeoisie and the general staff. General
A. J. Georges, deputy chief of staff, thought the mutual assistance pact should be
abandoned altogether. He feared the progress of communism in France and the
possibility of a general strike. Georges' colleagues, Generals P.-H. Gerodias and
M.-E. Debeney, considered the Soviet pact a dupe's game for which the dead Barthou
was responsible.31
Delay and duplicity
became the main tactics to scuttle the staff talks. Gamelin
told
307
MICHAEL
CARLEY
Schweisguth, 'We need to drag
things out'. When a Soviet response
to French
queries
arrived, Schweisguth noted Gamelin's consigne: 'we should not hurry, but avoid
giving to the Russians the impression
that we were playing them along, which could
lead them into a political volte-face' [i.e. a rapprochement
with Germany].32
Gamelin
and Daladier headed the movement; L6ger took charge at the Quai d'Orsay.
Schweisguth met the new Soviet military attache several times, but it was all a
charade. 'The situation is still the same', noted Schweisguth, 'gain time, without
rebuffing
the Russians and without proceeding to staff talks. . .' Daladier calculated
that France
could do without Soviet support,
but not without the British. The British
government
had had trouble 'swallowing' the mutual assistance
pact; it would choke
on a military agreement.33 Leger assured Blum that the war and foreign ministry
bureaucracies would loyally respect the government's policy on staff talks, but this
was dust in the eyes; not even Daladier intended
to respect government
policy.34
For
Daladier and Gamelin, it was a case of taking one step forward
in order
to take two
steps back.
In February
1937 the Soviet military
attache,
A. S. Semenov, met Schweisguth
and
his superior,
General Colson. Semenov said that
if Poland and Romania would permit
passage across their territory,
the Red Ariny would assist France with all its forces in
the case of German attack. If not, Soviet assistance would necessarily be more
limited, but the Soviet government was prepared
to send troops to France and to
provide air support-no doubt a chilling prospect to the Red-obsessed general staff.
In return,
the Soviet government
wanted to know what assistance France could offer
in case of German
aggression against the USSR.35
Blum saw Potemkin
on 17 February
after Semenov had met Colson, thanking
him
for the 'direct and comprehensive' Soviet proposals. Blum wondered if Romania
might be persuaded
to accept Red Army passage on the assumption
that Poland would
remain neutral. Potemkin replied that he had 'before hand resigned himself to the
refusal of Poland to fulfil its obligations as an ally'.36
A few days later Blum met
Daladier, Leger and Gamelin. Daladier's marginal notes blame Schweisguth for
delays in the talks, but this is untrue;
Daladier and Gamelin were calling the shots,
Schweisguth was simply a faithful executor of their policy.37 According to
Schweisguth's notes, Stalin himself had written a 'very cordial' letter in favour of a
Franco-Soviet military alliance, which Potemkin had read to Blum, who was
impressed. But Daladier remained 'sceptical'.38
Schweisguth met Semenov on 19 March, asking more questions about Soviet
military capabilities. As for Franco-Soviet
cooperation
on the ground, Schweisguth
indicated
that it would be 'extremely difficult' and would be dependent
on 'political
factors' with respect to Poland, the Baltic and elsewhere.39 Delbos saw Potemkin
on
23 March as the latter was preparing
to return to Moscow to take up the post of
deputy commissar for foreign affairs, vacated by the doomed but brave N. N.
Krestinsky, soon to perish in Stalin's purges. Delbos appeared
to want to be more
encouraging
than Schweisguth had been with Semenov. He regretted
the absence of
contact between Blum and Daladier
in recent days because of police shootings on 16
March
during
a left-wing demonstration
at Clichy-a 'diplomatic
Waterloo'-imply-
ing that this had affected the French response to Semenov. Potemkin would not
speculate
on the Soviet general staff's reaction to Schweisguth's
remarks to Semenov,
308
THE ANGLO-FRANCO-SOVIET
ALLIANCE IN 1939
but he had his doubts.40
On 27 March Blum also sought to reassure the charge
Girshfeld,
but he thought it 'expedient' to see Daladier before another
meeting with
Semenov.4'
The Soviet commissar for war, Voroshilov, reacting angrily to the additional
questions posed by Schweisguth,
refused further
discussions. The Soviet general staff
had indicated what it was prepared
to do in the event of German
aggression against
France and asked in return what the French would do in the case of a German
attack
on the USSR. Instead
of an answer, the French had put more questions. Negotiations
were deadlocked.42
Blum and Cot manoeuvred for continued
discussions,
but the British
Foreign Office
intervened
heavily in April and May 1937 to discourage the French. Ironically, the
future anti-appeasers,
Eden and the Permanent
Under Secretary,
Vansittart,
applied
the pressure.
But as late as the end of May Blum and Cot still sought to advance the
talks. 43
Aware of French
dissension, Potemkin
advised the new Soviet ambassador
in
Paris, Ya. Z. Surits,
not to press the issue. Open discussion in the French
government
could only make matters worse.44
The question
was soon moot in any case. At the end
of May Stalin authorised a devastating purge of the Soviet high command.
Tukhachevsky
and other senior commanders were executed after a drum-head trial in
early June. Daladier and Gamelin had a pretext to block staff talks, and the Blum
government
fell on 21 June.45
But Daladier
never had any intention of agreement
to
a Soviet military alliance.46
The failure of Franco-Soviet
staff talks in 1937 was a prelude
to the Anglo-Franco-
Soviet negotiations
in 1939. The same questions
were on the table:
passage of the Red
Army across Poland and Romania,
fear of provoking
Germany
or driving
Poland into
the arms of Hitler,
hostility from the Baltic states, among other factors. In September
1936 Jean
Payart,
French
charge
d'affaires
in Moscow, told Schweisguth
that
it would
not be the USSR which would oppose a Soviet-Polish rapprochement,
but Poland,
which feared 'bolshevik
contagion' and still dreamed of expansion
into the Ukraine-
after the failure of the Polish invasion in 1920.47
Doldrums of Franco-Soviet relations
The abortive talks in 1937 left a bad after-taste. For the French general staff the
Stalinist purge of old bolsheviks was hardly troubling,
but the 'decapitation'
of the
Soviet high command-either because the Soviet government was riddled with
traitors or with madmen, who had turned on their best generals-gave cause for
concern,
quite apart
from the splendid pretext
it offered to block staff conversations.48
The French general staff continued to fear communist infiltration
in the army, so
much so that the deputy chief of staff, Colson, recommended
against the attendance
of French
enlisted men at a concert of the Red Army choir. Such events 'always had
an obvious propagandistic
intent' and risked having a negative effect on ordinary
soldiers who lacked the 'critical
judgement' of their officers.49
On the Soviet side-or that part of it which survived Stalin's murderous
depreda-
tions-the duplicity of Daladier and Gamelin was scarcely interpreted
as a sign of
309
MICHAEL CARLEY
French
commitment
to mutual assistance. At the end of 1937, nine months before the
Munich agreement, the Soviet government doubted Anglo-French resolve to resist
Nazi Germany. The Soviet ambassador
in Paris, Surits, in a stunningly accurate
assessment of the French
political mood, saw little hope. French
resolve was sapped
by a fear of tomorrow and the perception
of enemies on all sides. Great Britain was
France's main ally, and the French government
would maintain
its ties with London
at any cost even though the British took little account of French views. Fear of the
'Red danger' and 'hatred of socialist revolution' dominated the French political
agenda to the point where France had lost sight of its vital national interests. The
French
government sought no deepening of the mutual assistance
pact, its only value
being a hindrance
to a Soviet-German
rapprochement.
Indeed, the right considered
undesirable the defeat of fascism at the expense of increased Soviet influence in
Europe.
Even the French
opposition, led by Herriot and Paul-Boncour
among others,
was listless and ineffective.50
In Moscow Potemkin attacked Coulondre as a collector
of anti-Soviet gossip-though undoubtedly
there was plenty going around-and a
'puny Philistine'.5'
Litvinov complained
to a French
journalist
in December 1937 that events in France
were unfolding as if there were no Franco-Soviet
pact. The USSR, he said, appeared
isolated, but not by its own choice. This situation could not continue,
even if it meant
an accord
with Germany-and 'why not?' Litvinov quipped. 'Was it possible?', asked
the incredulous journalist. 'Perfectly', replied Litvinov.52 The French and British
governments were not frightened by Litvinov's blunt warning; the Foreign Office
queried its European
ambassadors and concluded that a Soviet-German rapproche-
ment was unlikely.53
In early 1938 Chautemps, then premier, told Surits that Franco-Soviet ties
should be strengthened,
but the Soviet ambassador was sceptical. After Delbos
complained of French isolation, Surits commented to Moscow that the French
had only themselves to blame.54 And with reason: when the French military attache,
Colonel Palasse, reported
in April 1938 that the Soviet high command
was beginning
to recover from the Stalinist
purges and that
the Red Army had a formidable
potentiel
de guerre, he was rounded
on by his superiors
in Paris.55
Palasse stuck to his guns,
but the general staff did not want to hear. At the same time, however,
Daladier politely-or falsely-sang the praises to Surits of the 'might of the
Red Army'.56
The Soviet ambassador was not fooled; he wrote scathingly of French
policy in July 1938, anticipating the betrayal of Czechoslovakia two months
later. Daladier had the temerity to say Soviet support was so certain that
French diplomats need do nothing to retain it. Surits saw the British behind
French indifference to the Soviet pact, Daladier fearing to lose the British bird in
the hand for the sake of the Soviet in the bush. French cabinet members
Georges Mandel and Paul Reynaud,
who were advocates of a Franco-Soviet
alliance,
were incensed by such attitudes and advised Surits to insinuate to Daladier that
France risked losing the Soviet pact. Fear of all things Soviet contributed
to the French attitude. The situation was so bad, said Surits, that the Bibliotheque
Nationale had turned down an exhibition of Soviet books. The left in France had
weakened, much of the press was hostile, and the political pendulum
was swinging
to the right.57
310
THE ANGLO-FRANCO-SOVIET ALLIANCE IN 1939
Effects of the Munich crisis
As the Czech crisis intensified
in early September
1938, Litvinov hoped to obtain at
the League of Nations a condemnation of the Nazi threat to peace; he sought to put
political pressure on Bucharest to permit Red Army passage across Romania to
reinforce Czechoslovakia. The Soviet general staff 'advised the French that 30
combat-ready infantry divisions were deployed on its western frontier.58
As for
Poland, it appeared to have one foot in the German camp: in May the Polish
ambassador
in Paris
told Georges Bonnet, the French
foreign minister,
that the Polish
army 'would not budge' to support France should it go to the assistance of
Czechoslovakia
in the event of German
aggression. The Polish government regarded
the USSR as 'enemy No. 1', and would resist any Red Army attempt to cross its
territory
to aid Czechoslovakia. Colonel Beck, the Polish foreign minister,
considered
the Czech state 'unviable' and subverted by bolshevism. Polish officials held old
grudges against the Czechs, who had been too friendly with the USSR. If Germany
was to have the Sudetenland,
said Beck in September,
Poland would have the Czech
district of Teschen-by force if necessary.59
In early September
Litvinov suggested Franco-Soviet-Czech staff talks, seconded
by Coulondre,
who pressed the Quai d'Orsay
to agree. Bonnet brushed aside the idea.
The general staff, he said disingenuously, would keep in touch with the Soviet
military
attache
in Paris.60
In the meantime Bonnet pressed the Czech government
not
to resist the Poles any more than the Germans. Czech resistance over Teschen could
wreck the Munich settlement and lead to war. On 1 October Coulondre
telephoned
Potemkin for news. 'It's another surrender',
said Potemkin;
the Czechs had capitu-
lated and the Poles were already moving into the Teschen district. Potemkin
implied,
said Coulondre, that the Czech capitulation had eliminated any basis for Soviet
intervention.61
The Soviet Union reacted with anger and alarm to the Munich settlement. It is a
'most terrible
defeat', said Surits; without a shot being fired France had suffered 'a
second Sedan', losing its most faithful ally and an army of one-and-a-half million
men. France had been betrayed by the right, which feared the spread
of communism
in Europe through the victory of Soviet arms. The French government had lost
confidence in itself. There was no Clemenceau nor even a Poincare to rally the
country.62
Litvinov took in the full measure of defeat which was his as much as that of
France;
his policy of collective security was in ruins. Like Surits, Litvinov reckoned
that the French had only themselves to blame. They had systematically evaded
military staff talks even to support Czechoslovakia. Chamberlain had not dragged
Daladier, then premier, and Bonnet after him to Munich. Now, said Litvinov, the
British and French governments
would have to choose between Nazi domination of
Europe or resistance to further Nazi aggression. Litvinov was not hopeful. 'After
Munich, who will believe in the word of France', asked the Narkomindel
newspaper
in Moscow, 'who will remain its ally?'63
Soviet views, ventilated widely in the press, were reported
to Paris. The Soviet
government interpreted
Chamberlain's
communique
with Hitler on 30 September
as
a British offer of good offices to facilitate German eastward
expansion on condition
that Germany
leave the west in peace. Coulondre and Palasse both warned
of Soviet
311
MICHAEL CARLEY
isolation and the possibility of a Soviet-German rapprochement
at Polish expense.
Litvinov had not totally given up on collective security, but Coulondre reported-
prophetically as it turned out-that having learned from experience, the Soviet
government 'would undoubtedly demand precise guarantees of assistance' from
France and Great Britain
before making any further
security agreements.
The French
had no illusions about the gravity of their defeat: in May 1937 Delbos had said to
Eden that France could not abandon
Czechoslovakia 'without
disappearing
as a great
power from the map of Europe'. Another defeat like Munich, Coulondre warned,
would put France in mortal peril.64
The British government, especially Chamberlain,
was more optimistic. It was
normal that Germany
should dominate central
Europe,
otherwise there would be war
every 15 or 20 years, said Lord Halifax, then foreign secretary,
to Maisky, the Soviet
ambassador
in London.
Why should Great Britain
risk war to save the USSR?65
'Why
indeed?' asked foreign minister Bonnet. He hinted that France
would like to shed its
commitments,
such as they were, to Poland and the USSR. Rumours
circulated that
the Nazis were looking to the Ukraine to satisfy their growing territorial
appetite.
For
Bonnet this was both a relief and a concern, and all the more reason to unburden
France of dangerous
commitments. But in January
1939 other rumours circulated
only
a month after von Ribbentrop,
the Nazi foreign minister, came to Paris to sign an
understanding
with Bonnet to maintain 'peaceful and good neighbourly relations'.
Holland and western Europe were now the target of Nazi ambition. Suddenly, it
seemed less desirable to break commitments to Poland and to the USSR. Anglo-
French anti-appeasers,
silenced after Munich, began to find their voices.
Anglo-French policy reappraisal
In Great
Britain,
reappraisal
took place within the Foreign Office. Halifax was not as
sanguine as Chamberlain about the prospects of an accommodation with Nazi
Germany.
Neither was Vansittart,
now promoted
out of the way to chief diplomatic
advisor because of a difficult personality
and increasing opposition to the Conserva-
tive government's
foreign policy. In January
1939 a seemingly academic paper by a
Foreign Office clerk, Harold Caccia, reviewing Wheeler-Bennett's book on the
Soviet-German treaty of Brest Litovsk in 1918, touched off an important exchange
of views on Anglo-Soviet relations.
Caccia's memo suggested a re-examination of British policy toward the USSR in
the light of the perspective
offered by Wheeler-Bennett's book. Recalling that Lenin
had agreed
to accept 'the assistance of French
imperialism against German
brigands',
he asked why the British government
should not adopt the same policy, working on
the principle that "'Russian murderers"
might in certain eventualities be a lesser
danger
than "German
brigands"'?
Caccia suggested that the new British ambassador
in Moscow, Sir William Seeds, attempt to meet Stalin to 'clarify' Anglo-Soviet
relations, applying Lenin's first principle.
The memo soon had attached to it minutes from the lowest Foreign Office clerk to
Halifax himself, reflecting the gamut of opinion toward the USSR. A central
department official, D. W. Lascelles, asked '. . . what is there to clarify?'
312
THE ANGLO-FRANCO-SOVIET ALLIANCE IN 1939
Essentially, ... [Anglo-Soviet] relations are based on a mutual and inevitable antipathy
and
on the realisation
that the other party, in attempting
to cope with the German
menace, will
act empirically and solely with an eye to its own interests. The Russians know quite well
that if they are attacked
by Germany
we shall neither assist them nor join in the attack...
Lascelles conceded, however, that a little talk with the Soviet authorities might 'have
a certain prophylactic effect on the Germans, and it might also ... be of some use ...
against the English critics of His Majesty's Government'. Other mid-level Foreign
Office officials such as Laurence Collier, head of the Northern department, and
William Strang, head of the Central department, picked up this idea and pushed it
forward, though resisted by the anti-bolshevik Sir Lancelot Oliphant, deputy under-
secretary of state, and by Sir Alexander Cadogan, Chamberlain's 'sane, slow man' to
succeed Vansittart.66 Cadogan opposed an initiative in Moscow since the British
government had nothing to offer: 'we should very soon have to disclose the emptiness
of our cupboard'. Stalin could ask bothersome questions about what Great Britain
might do or not do in the event of a Soviet-German conflict. He might, for example,
'ask whether "no indirect assistance" [to Germany] means standing aside and giving
Germany a free hand. And that is not an easy question to answer-at best I do not
think we could give Stalin the answer he wants ...'
Cadogan's views would have confirmed Soviet suspicions about British intentions
in eastern Europe, but they did not fully satisfy Halifax, who invited Vansittart to
comment. 'Anglo-Soviet relations', Vansittart minuted,
are in a most unsatisfactory
state. It is not only regrettable
but dangerous
that they should
be in this state, and a continuance of it will become a great deal more dangerous very
shortly. They are in a bad state because the Russians feel, and I think it is an incontestable
fact (at any rate it is a very widely stated one), that we practically boycotted them during
1938. We never took them into our confidence or endeavoured to establish
close contact with
them, and this fact accounts for the gradual
drift towards isolation that is going on in Russia.
That fact and that tendency we ought to correct and correct soon.
Vansittart was not sure how to proceed. 'What the Russians need is a gesture'. He
suggested sending a cabinet minister-either Robert Hudson or Oliver Stanley-to
the USSR under the cover of ongoing trade negotiations. Halifax asked Vansittart to
see him about his idea.67 This marked a certain progress-if one favoured better
relations with the USSR-but it was far from a dramatic change in policy. Vansittart
had come a long way since 1935 when he thought Litvinov 'obsessed' with the
German danger.68 He shared the obsession now, but he was no longer permanent
under-secretary, and Cadogan and Chamberlain were against him.
The day Vansittart wrote his minute at the Foreign Office he went to see Maisky
to complain-neither discreetly nor for the first time-about Chamberlain's policy.
Vansittart was in 'great anxiety', noted Maisky, he was 'highly dissatisfied with the
state of affairs both in England and in France. . . In his view, 1939 will be the decisive
year'. Vansittart argued that British, French, and Soviet interests were identical, and
that if they were not careful Hitler would pick them off one after the other-'as an
artichoke is eaten leaf after leaf'. Having listened for a while, Maisky answered that
Vansittart was preaching to the converted, 'the USSR had all along been upholding
the principle of collective security, while London and Paris had been systematically
313
MICHAEL
CARLEY
undermining
it'. At the end of their conversation,
Vansittart
expressed 'hope that in
England the policy of "appeasement"
would soon come to a deservedly inglorious
end' .69
There were some modest signs that
this was happening.
In Moscow Seeds informed
Litvinov on 19 February
that the British government
would send Hudson, secretary
for the ministry of overseas trade, to Moscow. Hudson would discuss trade matters,
but Seeds hinted that London hoped for a general improvement
in relations. Litvinov
picked up the hint, but complained
of endless Anglo-French
capitulations:
assurances
to the contrary 'nowadays ... were freely given and as freely broken'. Under the
circumstances,
Litvinov said that the USSR would 'keep aloof'. Seeds insisted that
there was a change of mood in England.
All to the good, replied Litvinov, but what
is needed is a change in action.70 Maisky reported
that there were further
signs of a
change in policy, though Litvinov remained sceptical-these were mere 'gestures',
and they were not enough.71
Maisky kept probing. He met Hudson for lunch on 8 March. As Maisky was
leaving, he told Hudson 'that he was quite convinced that we, the British Empire,
were unable to stand up against German aggression, even with the assistance of
France, unless we had the collaboration and help of Russia'. Hudson replied that he
thought Great Britain and France were changing direction and that they would
eventually triumph
with or without the USSR. Hudson recorded this in a minute,
concluding
that Maisky, having gone 'out of his way to raise these questions ... may
indicate a certain nervousness in the minds of the Russian government'. Vansittart
was exasperated
when he saw the memorandum,
leaving a note for Halifax.
There
is unfortunately
a great
deal
of force in what M. Maisky
says:
for
example
the British
and
French
air
forces are
utterly
unequal
to standing
up to the whole
German air force.
It
is quite
essential
that a portion
should be immobilised on the German
Eastern Front.
I see
little
utility
in denying
these self-evident
facts,
or in not
trying
to bring
the Russians out
of
their
isolationist tendencies instead
of pushing
them back in that
direction...
Before
talking
like this it is well to remember
(1) that
we had both
Russia & Italy
with
us in the last
war,
& then
only
scrambled
through,
(2) that
France could
have
had
no chance
of survival
whatever
in 1914,
if there
had
not been an Eastern Front. She
only just
survived
as it was.
'Surely', Vansittart
concluded, 'when a foreign ambassador
talks like this there is a
very obvious, and infinitely preferable
gambit that sticks well out of the ground'.
Vansittart,
at least, did not need to be a general to sense which way the war winds
were beginning to blow. On 14 March
Halifax left a minute for Vansittart
indicating
that he had spoken to Hudson, warning him 'against taking a line that would
encourage Russian "withdrawal"'.72
Such steps were a little late; the German army
marched into Prague the following day, disrupting the pace of change in British
policy. Chamberlain,
who had not interfered in the 'gestures' being made to the
USSR, was now drawn more deeply into the foreign policy debate. He did not like
Vansittart's
advice and ignored it.
During the same period the French government
did even less than the British to
repair
the damage done to their relations
with the USSR. A new French ambassador,
P.-E. Naggiar, arrived
in Moscow in February
1939. He came from the embassy in
314
THE ANGLO-FRANCO-SOVIET
ALLIANCE IN 1939
China, and made a good impression on his British counterpart.
He had several talks
with Litvinov and Potemkin who conveyed the same message as that given to Seeds.
Still, Litvinov said that the USSR would continue to support
the policy of collective
security
if the French
government
would support
it also, even though
the post-Munich
situation was less favourable. In fact, Litvinov made clear his preference for
Anglo-Franco-Soviet cooperation.
He had earlier
expressed
his repugnance
of Soviet-
German
economic relations; so many German
technicians, said Litvinov, meant so
many German spies.73
But the British and French governments could not go on
ducking out at critical moments. Naggiar, and Payart before him, warned Bonnet
categorically
that if they did, the USSR might come to terms with Germany-what-
ever Litvinov's preferences.74
Stalin too warned in an often-quoted speech on 10
March that the Soviet government
had no intention of 'pulling other
people's [that
is
to say, French and British] chestnuts out of the fire'.75
Of course, warnings
like this
were old hat, and Bonnet's cables to Moscow were routine until 23 March, a week
after the Nazi invasion of the rump of Czechoslovakia.
For Litvinov this was a difficult time. By early 1939 the Stalinist purges had
decimated
Narkomindel. 'How can I conduct foreign policy', he said to Naggiar in a
fit of ill humour,
'with the Lubyanka
across the way?'76
Litvinov feared
seeing his last
day there.
In March
Payart
found Litvinov very tense because of criticism
in Moscow
of his policies, but he carried
on.77
Common wisdom in the diplomatic community
was that Litvinov's days were numbered.
Voroshilov, for one, was said to favour a
Soviet-German rapprochement;
but Stalin opposed it.78 Among Litvinov's few
surviving colleagues were Potemkin, Surits and Maisky. Were they spared to keep
open the option of Soviet-Western
cooperation against Nazism? Or was it simply a
tyrant's whimsy?
The beginning of Anglo-Franco-Soviet discussions, March-May 1939
On 18 March Litvinov proposed the calling of a six-power conference in Bucharest
to discuss the 'possibilities of common action' against further Nazi aggression.
Halifax replied to Maisky that a conference would be premature,
but he had another
idea: a four power declaration
by the British,
French,
Soviet and Polish governments.
Would the Soviet government
agree to this proposal?
Litvinov replied favourably
on
22 March. British policy was scarcely a sea change; London was only inviting
consultation about what might be done later.79
But this was still too much for Beck,
who rejected the British proposal.
The Polish decision was no surprise
to the French government,
which trusted the
Poles no more than did the Soviet. The French
secretary-general,
Leger, thought
Beck
'entirely cynical and false' and just looking for an excuse 'to tuck in closer to
Germany'.80
Mistrust was exacerbated by Polish policy during the Munich crisis,
when the Polish army had seized Teschen. 'The Germans were not the only vultures
upon the carcass', wrote Churchill.81
Others drew analogies with jackals and hyenas.
Presumably,
the Poles found the distinction between taking and giving away another
state's territory
rather a fine one.
Leon Noel, the French ambassador
in Warsaw, noted in January
1939 that many
Poles feared the Nazis less than the Soviet Union; forced to a choice, they would
315
MICHAEL CARLEY
collaborate with Germany
rather
than accept aid from the USSR. Noel reported
the
comment of the Soviet military attache, who observed that the Poles would let
themselves be crushed rather
than accept Soviet aid. Counselling patience, Noel said
the Poles would have to be coaxed along.82
It was the old question of whether the Polish government
would permit the Red
Army to cross Poland to meet the Nazi enemy. French diplomats had reported
the
difficulty as early as 1934-35-the British also. Soviet troops, Payart
had noted, once
on Polish territory might not want to leave. The Polish government, having taken
Soviet territory
in 1919-20, understandably
feared that the Soviet Union might one
day want to take it back. In 1938 the issue came up repeatedly.
No wonder Kennard,
the British ambassador
in Warsaw, commented after Munich that collective security
had foundered on Polish opposition.83
The British were nevertheless more disposed than the French to follow Noel's
counsels of patience. Although the British government
had taken a dim view of the
Polish seizure of Teschen, its attitude to the Poles in March 1939 was to let bygones
be bygones. Leger was not so easy to convince, though one Foreign Office clerk
remarked
that the French were always a little hard on Beck.84
Leger advised the
British to use 'very clear and firm language' with the Poles, and so did the French
ambassador,
Corbin. 'He thought
the strongest
pressure
must be brought
to bear upon
Poland,
even to the extent of threats,
to secure her collaboration'.
Strong
language
had
not been characteristic
of the French in recent years-except against
French commu-
nists, or Italians-and it still was not. Leger complained of being 'surrounded
by
reticence'. Much of it, of course, was of his own making, but Leger was right in
telling the British
charge
in Paris
that
France and Great Britain should not subordinate
their attitude to those governments, those 'corollaries', with whom they were
consulting. 'That would be to put the cart before the horse. These governments
would
decide their attitude
in accordance with the intentions of France and Great Britain'.85
This was undoubtedly
true; Lloyd George, the former prime minister, said as much
in the House of Commons on 3 April.96
The Tory gadfly Churchill would also say it,
but he-like Lloyd George-was greatly disliked by Chamberlain. So the British
government
did not take this sound advice. Neither did Bonnet.
One wonders why. Halifax noted in March that France and Great Britain
could not
prevent
Poland from being overrun
by Germany.87
Both Lloyd George and Churchill
stated in Parliament that there could be no 'eastern front' without the USSR.88
Litvinov told Hudson, who finally made it to Moscow on 23 March,
that 'France
was
practically done for.. . full of German agents, disaffected and disunited. . .' He could
see the day not too distant when Europe would be fascist from the Bay of Biscay to
the Soviet frontier. It would be up to Great Britain and the USSR then, and Litvinov
'made it clear that he had in mind the possibility of resistance by force of arms'.89
Who can say that Litvinov was wrong?-but he was going too fast for Chamberlain
and other 'men of Munich' in London. Chamberlain did not trust 'the Soviet'-as it
was fashionable to say in those days-but one wonders why he trusted the Poles
more. Chamberlain did not believe that the Red Army could take the offensive against
Germany.
This from a British prime minister
who just then could put four divisions
into the field-'two and two more later'; 'the Soviet' could send 100, 250 after the
first
year.90
But Chamberlain
distrusted Soviet motives, they were communists and did
316
THE ANGLO-FRANCO-SOVIET ALLIANCE IN 1939
not share 'our ideas of liberty'. Did Beck? Definitely not, but he was not a
communist.
Beck was a 'slippery customer' even by British lights: when he came to London
in early April he was already facing heavy intimidation
from Ribbentrop-though he
denied it-over the German-populated
'free city' of Danzig, created under the treaty
of Versailles. Beck still hoped for a settlement with Germany, proposing a modest
compromise
on 25 March and continued commitment to an anti-Russian,
anti-commu-
nist policy.9' Leger was after all not so hard on Beck; the British were not hard
enough. 'The important
thing', said Bonnet, 'was not to give Poland (or, indeed,
Romania)
a pretext for running
out on account of Russia'.92 Chamberlain would then
be left without a second front or rather
with the unacceptable option of 'the Soviet'
as his main ally in the east. This had also been a danger
in 1938. Nazi intransigence
spared Chamberlain the contemplation
of such a scenario.
In the face of Polish opposition, the British government
abandoned its four-power
declaration and offered instead a unilateral
guarantee
of Poland which it persuaded
the
French government
to make also. Chamberlain
explained privately to Lloyd George
that Hitler would never risk war if he had to fight on two fronts. 'Where is the second
front to be?', asked Lloyd George. Poland, the prime minister responded. Lloyd
George 'burst
into laughter
and began to jibe Chamberlain,
noting that Poland had no
air force to speak of, an inadequately mechanised army, worse than mediocre
armaments,
and that Poland was weak internally, economically, and politically',93
Like Vansittart,
neither Lloyd George nor Churchill needed to be a general to tell
which way the war winds were blowing. In late March the British chiefs of staff also
began to sense the winds.94 Chamberlain had trouble because anti-bolshevism had
twisted round his own weather vane.
The Foreign Office was not unaware of the importance
of implicating
the USSR in
the defence of Poland, and so it invited the USSR on 14 April to join in making a
unilateral declaration.
The Soviet government had other ideas. On 6 April Maisky
raised the question of military staff talks, and he inquired 'with inquisitorial persis-
tence' about Chamberlain's
meaning of 'direct and indirect' aggression in a parlia-
mentary
statement that day on Poland. Chamberlain
appears
to have been the first to
raise the question
of 'indirect'
aggression, though Halifax preferred
not to explain the
prime minister's meaning. Halifax assured
Maisky of the British government's
desire
to create a broad coalition to protect the peace and that this coalition would not be
formed without
the USSR. But the Foreign Office flatly rejected
Maisky's suggestion
of a trip by Litvinov to London to facilitate negotiations. Sargent,
assistant under-sec-
retary
of state, and Cadogan thought
this a dreadful idea. It would 'arouse the deepest
suspicion in every country where the Soviet connection is feared.. . I hope we will
not allow Maisky's fictitious
grievances and Litvinov's assumed sulks to push us into
action against our better
judgement', Sargent suggested 'calling the Soviet bluff by
asking them point black to make us a definite and detailed scheme showing the extent
to which and the manner in which they are prepared to cooperate with other
governments...' Cadogan chimed in 'I agree'. 'Personally', Cadogan minuted, 'I
regard
association with the Soviet as more of a liability than an asset. But I should
rather
like to ask them what they propose, indicating
that we don't want a lesson in
"moral issues", but some practical indication of what they propose
317
MICHAEL
CARLEY
should be done'. Halifax concurred-with qualifications: '.. . of course we want if we
can-without making a disproportionate
amount of mischief ... -to keep them in
with us...'95
Litvinov-who had many talents-must have been able to read minds. He was
certainly well informed.96 On 17 April he called the British bluff and proposed-in
eight points-a tripartite political and military alliance against Nazi Germany.
The
Foreign Office was confounded; Cadogan thought the Soviet proposals 'extremely
inconvenient': they would 'give little additional security', and would alienate our
friends and provoke our enemies. 'In order to placate our left wing in England,
rather
than to obtain any solid military advantage',
noted Cadogan,
the British government
had asked for a Soviet unilateral declaration
of support.
'The assistance of the Soviet
government
would be available, if desired and would be afforded in such manner as
would be found most convenient'. Cadogan had to admit, however, that the Soviet
proposal put His Majesty's Government
in a bind.
.
.There is great difficulty
in refusing
the Soviet offer. We have taken the attitude that the
Soviet
preach
us sermons on 'collective
security'
but make
no practical proposals. They
have
now made
such,
and
they
will rail at us for
turning
them down. And the Left
in this
country
may
be counted
on to make
the most
of this... There
is further
the risk-though
I should
have
thought
it a very
remote
one-that, if we turn
down this proposal,
the Soviet
might
make
some 'non-intervention'
agreement
with the German
government.
Cadogan
recommended that Litvinov's proposal should be rejected,
and it was-with
'disdain', Corbin would say later.97
Cadogan's weather vane was twisted also; and
when Vansittart
pressed to have the USSR included in a collateral matter,
Cadogan
exploded in his diary that Vansittart was an 'ass'!98
Cadogan was irritated
by an
interfering
predecessor but, personal rivalries aside, the Foreign Office was more
divided than the country on the matter
of an alliance with the USSR.
The debate over Anglo-Soviet cooperation was heated and continued throughout
April. The problem of Romania and Poland-but especially Poland-came up
repeatedly. The British ambassador, Kennard, warned that pressure on Poland to
cooperate
would only make matters worse. Once the USSR became a full member
of
an anti-German
coalition, the Polish government
would fear relegation
to a secondary
role. Moreover,
the extraordinary
publicity in the press and on radio about a possible
agreement
with the USSR made Polish opinion anxious and played into the hands of
Nazi propagandists exploiting fears of bolshevism. 'Would it not be possible',
pleaded Kennard,
'even at this late hour for someone in authority
to insist that the
press and BBC control themselves?' Cadogan thought
that showing Kennard's letter
to Chamberlain
'might help'.99
Collier, head of the Northern
department, commenting
trenchantly
in another context, observed that if Hitler wanted to devour another
victim, he could 'always find a pretext without referring
to Russia!'100
Collier was a member
of Vansittart's small circle, and at times he boldly criticised
the government. In a shocking comment on the minutes of the Foreign Policy
Committee,
composed of senior cabinet ministers,
he noted that if one 'read between
the lines', especially of Chamberlain's
comments,
one could not 'help feeling that the
318
THE ANGLO-FRANCO-SOVIET
ALLIANCE IN 1939
real motive for Cabinet's attitude is the desire to secure Russian
help and at the same
time to leave our hands free to enable Germany to expand eastward at Russian
expense'. Strang
disputed
this, but Cadogan,
consistent
with his earlier
views, did not
refer to it. Collier warned
that the 'Russians are not so naive as not to suspect this,
and I hope that we ourselves will not be so naive as to think that we can have things
both ways'. Soviet support was worth having, whatever its shortcomings,
and 'we
ought not to boggle at paying the obvious price-an assurance
to the Russians, in
return
for their promise of help, that we will not leave them alone to face German
expansion'. Anything less would not only be cynical but doomed to failure.'0' It was
not for lack of good advice that British policy went awry; it was for failure to heed
it. On 29 April Halifax disingenuously
told Maisky that the British government
had
been 'too busy' to deal with Litvinov's 'very logical and well constructed' pro-
posals.102
The French government, whose relations with the USSR had been in a state of
torpor since Munich, bestirred itself at the end of March. Funk was the principal
motivator, and rising public clamour for better Franco-Soviet relations. The
chameleon Bonnet tried to change his colours. In March he had the effrontery to
remark
to Halifax that the Soviet authorities
liked to talk, but not to act. They had to
be pinned down as to 'their
real intentions'. In several meetings with Surits in April
he pressed for greater
Franco-Soviet
cooperation.
Surits and Litvinov reacted cynic-
ally, but said that the Soviet government
would 'give sympathetic
consideration to
any concrete proposals'. In Moscow Litvinov quipped that perhaps an isolationist
policy would after all be best for the USSR. Payart, standing in for the absent
Naggiar, who was ill, noted that such remarks
were an effort to stimulate Anglo-
French interest. Payart warned, however, that Litvinov's cynical remarks 'almost
always indicated the alternative
policy directions of other Soviet leaders'. In any
event, Litvinov was sick and tired of the Anglo-French
cold-shoulder and 'fed up'
with Polish and Romanian
hostility. He did not intend
the USSR to be a lightning
rod
for Nazi aggression.103
The French sought to reassure
Moscow. Bonnet-'in a state of complete prostra-
tion'-told Surits that an Anglo-Franco-Soviet
accord
to support
Poland and Romania
was essential. Daladier
railed
against
the Poles who would lead their
country
'to ruin';
Gamelin
went to see Surits,
kepi in hand,
to say that
it was not too late to oppose Nazi
Germany.
But anti-bolshevism
still maintained its hold. The chief of the 2e Bureau
said that the USSR would not give help to the West, preferring to watch the
'democracies
and totalitarian
states ... cut one another's throats which would pave
the way for bolshevism in Europe.
. .' Nevertheless,
Surits
reported
that French
public
opinion had turned
around;
press attacks
against
the USSR had all but ceased. The old
French
arrogance
was gone, they were supplicants
now: 'people who need us, not ...
people whom we need'. France was neck deep in rising danger;
accommodation
with
the aggressors
was no longer possible and war was imminent.
In fact, France
and the
USSR needed each other. But Surits feared betrayal:
we should negotiate, but 'not
assume any obligations without reciprocal guarantees'.'04
On 14 April Bonnet pro-
posed an exchange of letters promising Soviet 'immediate
aid and assistance' in the
event of German
aggression. Surits tactfully suggested that Bonnet's proposal
would
have a better
chance of success if it possessed a measure of reciprocity.
The following
319
MICHAEL
CARLEY
day Bonnet produced 'a more complete text' where France would render 'immediate
aid and assistance' if the USSR in support
of Poland and Romania were attacked
by
Germany. Surits responded reservedly, but advised that his government would
perhaps
have counter-proposals
to make.105
The British government did not like the French idea any more than Litvinov's
proposals which soon followed. Nor did it care for the more positive French attitude
to the Soviet idea of a tripartite
alliance. Cadogan
explained the position to Corbin,
but the French
ambassador
warned that 'a flat rejection
would enable the Russians to
cause both governments
considerable
embarrassment,
and it would be better if some
practical counter-proposals
could be devised'. The USSR was entitled 'to ask for the
same kind of guarantee
from Great
Britain and France as Poland is receiving and she
could hardly
be expected to undertake
any obligations
without such a guarantee.
. .'06
'I don't like this much', minuted Halifax, and he was more receptive to Anglo-
Soviet cooperation
than
Chamberlain. Halifax need not have worried;
the French were
accommodating,
and put off Surits.107 On 29 April Bonnet told the British
ambassador
in Paris, Sir Eric Phipps, that the French government would go along with British
policy if the Foreign Office could persuade
the USSR to accept it, though he doubted
this would be possible.108
Foreign Office officials sometimes used the word 'sulk' to describe Soviet unhap-
piness with Anglo-French policy. They stopped using it after 3 May, after Soviet
'sulks' led to the sudden sacking of Litvinov. This was an important development.
Litvinov was the principal advocate of collective security against Nazi Germany.
Stalin, who outwardly
had little to do with foreign affairs, supported
Litvinov and
appears
to have left him to implement
policy. Although Litvinov was not a member
of the highest decision-making circles, he did not need to be-as long as Stalin
supported
him. How else could he have avoided the Lubyanka?
When Stalin evidently decided to widen his options after the long string
of failures
of collective security, he dismissed Litvinov, whose preference
for an alliance with
the West against Nazi Germany, apart
from other desiderata,
would have hampered
a reversal of Soviet policy. If Litvinov was not purged, it may have been blind
luck-for Litvinov-or it may have been a sign that Stalin had not altogether rejected
collective security.
But Stalin would have no preferences;
he would weigh his options.
Litvinov's successor was Molotov, Stalin's most important
lieutenant. Gone was
the urbane, blunt but tractable Litvinov, to be replaced by a traditional old bol-
shevik-one of the few in fact whom Stalin did not have shot-hard, mulish,
humourless. Litvinov's endless if angry patience with Anglo-French
filibustering
and
sometime duplicity was over.
The French and British
governments
were startled
by the dismissal. Payart
reported
that the Soviet government
was fed up with British stalling. Litvinov's disappearance
could signal a move toward
neutrality
or, worse, an agreement
with Germany,
but this
seemed unlikely
for the moment.
However, Stalin would be taking a closer hand in
Soviet foreign policy, and it would be subject to his amour-propre, and to his
impulses.'09
Molotov reassured the French and British that there would be no change
in Soviet policy-unless, he added cryptically to Seeds, 'other states changed
theirs'. 10
320
THE ANGLO-FRANCO-SOVIET ALLIANCE IN 1939
The main Anglo-Franco-Soviet negotiations, May-August 1939
Pressure for a Soviet alliance was building up on all sides. Public opinion in Great
Britain was vociferous. 'Winston', long a thorn in the side of Tory cabinets,
challenged the government
in Parliament and in the press. What was going on, why
the delay in responding
to Soviet proposals, why no pressure
on Poland to cooperate?
The old hater of bolsheviks was for banding
together
to 'break Hitler's neck!'111 The
British chiefs of staff also started to press for agreement
with the USSR. They knew
in early May that the French intended to stand on the defensive on the fortified
Maginot line in the event of war between Germany and Poland. The Polish army
would quickly be defeated without Soviet support, and if the USSR sided with
Germany,
Great
Britain
would face the gravest
dangers.
Vansittart also returned to the
charge and seemed to influence the dawdling Halifax.12
The position of the chiefs of staff discomforted Chamberlain. But
'"Appeasement"',
as British
diplomat
Oliver Harvey
put it, was 'raising
its ugly head
again'. The Times ran a headline: 'Danzig is not worth a war'. Chamberlain's
entourage was intriguing; Halifax, a young anti-bolshevik 'die-hard' in the early
1920s, was said to regard
the USSR as 'the anti-Christ'.
Strang,
head of the Central
department,
thought that Chamberlain
opposed a Soviet alliance because it would
signal the end of appeasement;
he said 'all at No. 10 are anti-Soviet'. Halifax
explained to the French that 'half the British population' held the Soviet Union
responsible as much as the Nazis for 'all the troubles of the last 10 years'.13
Obviously, Halifax had not kept up with British public opinion which massively
favoured an Anglo-Soviet alliance, but neither had Chamberlain. He was relieved by
Litvinov's sacking and threatened to resign 'rather than sign [an] alliance with the
Soviet'. Even Corbin attributed
the British cabinet's 'reticence' to anti-communist
animosity. 14
Daladier,
who had tamed his communists,
was not now so frightened.
Neither was
Bonnet;
he was more worried
by the prospects
of failure to conclude. There was such
a strong movement of public opinion in France and Great Britain in favour of an
alliance with the USSR that if negotiations
failed, it was essential that the Soviet side
'and not us', take the blame."5 Implicitly, this seemed more important
for Bonnet
than the success of negotiations.
Maisky, assessing British opinion, correctly reported its anti-German mood to
Moscow, but he, like Harvey, also noted the resurgence
of appeasement.16
On 8 May
Molotov commented unfavourably
to Seeds on the British delay in responding to
Litvinov's proposals: the 'Soviet government had always replied ... within three
days, instead of three weeks'. Seeds answered drily, 'I [take] off my hat to
Soviet efficiency'. In mid-May Molotov laid out the Soviet minimum position: a
tripartite
mutual assistance pact, guarantee
of the central and east European states
including the Baltics, and a concrete military accord. When Molotov spoke of the
Baltic guarantee,
Seeds 'uttered
deprecatory
noises', tapping
his fingers on the paper
which explained the Soviet proposals.
But the 'slab-faced' Molotov would not be put
off. 17
Chamberlain
finally began to give in to pressure;
he swallowed hard and agreed to
new proposals-they were half-way measures by Soviet lights, by Churchill's
also-but they went too far for Chamberlain,
who was 'very disturbed' by the
321
MICHAEL CARLEY
prospect
of agreement.11
On 25 May the British
government,
with the French
in tow,
offered a limited mutual assistance pact. Its ignition clause was dependent on the
consent of threatened third
states, and the proposal
was couched in the context of the
discredited
League of Nations. A clever move, thought
Chamberlain,
and he privately
boasted of it. The League caveat would allow the British government
to narrow its
commitments or cut them short. The suspicious Molotov picked this up at once and
condemned it."9 But according
to Cadogan, Chamberlain was prepared
'to leave no
stone unturned'
to solve the looming crisis over Danzig. He might still save the
peace-his way-and he did not want to commit too far to 'the Soviet'. Maisky noted
this also and duly reported
it to Moscow.120
During May the French
government
pushed
the British to respond
quickly to Soviet
overtures. But they did not press too hard,
expressions of impatience
were accompa-
nied by the caveat that of course 'the French government
would be perfectly well
satisfied with the British formula [for agreement]
if the Soviet government
could be
persuaded
to accept it'. The French
government
was not after all so quick to resume
the diplomatic
initiative. Bonnet instructed
Payart 'to take a back seat and let Sir W.
Seeds make the running...
.121 Bonnet confided to the British
ambassador,
Phipps,
that
while an agreement
with the USSR was necessary, we must be careful not to allow
ourselves 'to be dragged into war' by the Soviet government. Anyway, the 'best
policy with the Soviet is to avoid giving them the impression
that we are running
after
them'. Bonnet sneered at cabinet ministers Reynaud and Mandel: 'the [French]
communists are unfortunately not the only people here who are under Soviet
influence'.122 The Quai d'Orsay reiterated to Naggiar, back in Moscow in early June,
that the French government
would remain in the background.
If the British failed to
obtain Soviet agreement, the French government could put forward its own com-
promise solutions. Naggiar, impatient
for a quick agreement,
did not like Bonnet's
policy.'23
No one did who wanted an agreement
with the USSR.
On 2 June Molotov countered
with proposals for ironclad, well defined commit-
ments and in effect returned
to Litvinov's initiative of 17 April guaranteeing
all the
states between the Baltic and Black Seas.124 The Soviet counter-offer
specified a list
of countries to be guaranteed, including the Baltics, and, unlike the previous
Anglo-French
proposal,
it did not condition assistance on the consent of affected third
states. Moreover,
Molotov's proposal, like Litvinov's, called for the conclusion of a
military agreement 'within the shortest possible time' specifying in detail the
commitments of the contracting parties.'25
On the latter point Molotov explained to
Seeds that the Soviet government
had learned from its experience with the French.
The Franco-Soviet mutual assistance pact 'had turned out to be ... a paper delusion'.
Without a military convention the political accord would be worthless. Back in
London, Sargent
commented, 'the Russians have for years past been pressing
for staff
conversations to implement
its (sic) Franco-Soviet
pact, and the French
largely at our
instigation have always refused them'. Molotov had a point. Do not take us for
'simpletons and fools', he would say.126
Maisky characterised
British policy as 'bazaar
technique': 'But even in the bazaar,
when asked a shilling one did not begin by offering twopence'. Moscow had the
impression that the British government
was 'at bottom opposed to a pact and was
reluctantly
and gradually being pushed against its will into making one'.127 If this
322
THE ANGLO-FRANCO-SOVIET ALLIANCE IN 1939
meant Chamberlain and his entourage,
who can say Maisky was wrong?
Chamberlain
must have felt like Br'er Rabbit
struggling
with the tar
baby in the Uncle Remus tales:
the more he tried to get away, the more he got stuck in the tar. It was only 'Jedge'
Stalin who in August 'come long en loosed 'im'.
In June the Foreign Office sent Strang
to Moscow to assist in negotiations. Strang
told Naggiar that his instructions were not to move toward the Soviet position, but in
fact to try to take back concessions made in previous Anglo-French
proposals.128
No
wonder 'the Soviet' mistrusted Chamberlain and Bonnet; the British and French
anti-appeasement opposition did not trust them either. In June Churchill
questioned
the Chamberlain
government's good faith. In early July Mandel, the last of the
Clemencists,
told Surits that the Soviet government
'had
every right' to be mistrustful,
and he urged Surits to insist on a 'clear and explicit' agreement, so arch appeaser
Bonnet could not rat.129
In this atmosphere
is it any surprise that Stalin-suspicious, ruthless and com-
pletely unscrupulous-began to contemplate
the possibility of an agreement
with Nazi
Germany?
If the Anglo-French
could pursue
such a policy, so could he. In April 1939
the Soviet ambassador
in Berlin, A. F. Merekalov, went to the German foreign
ministry
to discuss the fulfilment
of Soviet contracts
in defunct Czechoslovakia.
The
meeting focused on economic relations but, as Litvinov had reminded Payart in
March, 'there was a close interdependence
between political and economic rela-
tions. . .,130
The German
government thought
there
might be a political opening in this
initiative.
Merekalov
disappeared
from the scene, eventually purged
but not shot; and
the Soviet charge d'affaires, G. A. Astakhov, took up the parley before he too
disappeared
in September.
Talks continued in May and June on economic matters.
Political questions remained at the level of generalities.
At the end of June Molotov
still appeared
more interested in the Anglo-French negotiations.131
The discussions with the French and British dragged
on in June and July, haggling
over endless wordings of a political agreement. In early July Sargent admitted to
Corbin that the British guarantees
to Poland and Romania had been a mistake. The
Soviet leaders, having thus obtained a measure of security, could hold out for their
own terms. And they did: Molotov stuck tenaciously to the basic Soviet position laid
out by Litvinov in April. The French and British had to negotiate or their guarantees
would be worthless. Sargent's admission is 'a little late', noted Naggiar; 'to correct
this error,
Russia's price has to be paid'.132
The key issues were over guarantees
of the Baltic states, a definition of 'indirect
aggression', and negotiations
for a military
convention
tied to the political agreement.
The British feared giving the Soviet government
licence to threaten Baltic indepen-
dence. The Soviet Union feared German
aggression
through
the Baltic with or without
consent. Meanwhile, the Baltic states looked on nervously. They preferred
a year of
Nazi occupation to a day of Soviet-which was what worried the Soviet govern-
ment.'33
The Baltic ambassadors made regular inquiries
at the Foreign Office; British
ambassadors
reported
Baltic anxiety and anti-Soviet hostility. In early June Estonia
and Latvia signed non-aggression pacts with Germany;
German officers supervised
the building of their fortifications.
The French government became more impatient and more willing to make
concessions to the Soviet point of view, especially on the Baltic issue. But no sooner
323
MICHAEL CARLEY
did Bonnet send a trumpeting
cable to London which insisted on the importance
of
an immediate agreement than he sent further word that he would defer to the
British.34 In Moscow Naggiar observed this and became increasingly angry and
alarmed.
He and Seeds complained repeatedly
about press leaks revealing important
details of the negotiations.
The Soviet authorities-or the Germans for that matter-
did not need agents in the Foreign Office; all they had to do was read the London or
Paris papers.'35 Naggiar reported
that the Soviet government
was complaining again
about delays and public statements
by Chamberlain and others on British willingness
to conciliate Germany. Increasingly impatient, Naggiar asked for what amounted
to
plenipotentiary powers to conclude an agreement;
if the cabinet did not like it, the
Quai d'Orsay could disavow him. Bonnet queried
the Foreign Office, but the British
were reticent and Bonnet did not insist.136
Naggiar worried
less about the Baltic states than about the question of Poland and
Romania.
He reminded
Paris repeatedly
in July that their cooperation
was vital to the
success of an Anglo-Franco-Soviet
alliance. Naggiar raised the issue of Red Army
passage across Poland, as did the French military attache Palasse. If the Polish
government
did not agree to it there could be no effective eastern front. Poland and
Romania could not hold out without Soviet support.
And if the eastern front were
broken, Germany
and Italy could turn all their force against the West. This was not
a question
of Polish or Romanian
security
but of French
security, quite apart
from that
of the USSR. The Soviet government
understood this point only too well and would
not compromise itself against Germany without 'precise and concrete military
guarantees',
as Coulondre had warned after Munich. New Anglo-French proposals
for
agreement
risked
provoking
new Soviet counter
proposals.
If we do not conclude, the
USSR could remain neutral or come to terms with Germany
based on a partition
of
Poland and the Baltic states. It is time, said Naggiar, to recognise that relations
between states are governed by equations of force. What is needed is a 'classical'
military alliance with concrete terms and conditions. No effort should be spared to
obtain Polish and Romanian cooperation;
no time should be lost in concluding an
agreement on Soviet terms in spite of our reservations. Unfortunately, Naggiar
minuted
later, 'we did nothing is this regard,
except at the last minute'.'37 It was thus
not for lack of good advice that French policy also went awry; it was for failure or
unwillingness to heed it.
Naggiar correctly identified the problem: neither the French nor British govern-
ments were prepared
to make the necessary commitments. Bonnet wanted a political,
not a military
agreement
which would require
Polish cooperation.
Poland
did not want
to give it, minuted
Naggiar, and we did not want to press for it. 'We want a gesture',
scribbled
Naggiar, 'the Russians want a concrete agreement
involving the assent of
Poland and Romania'.138 The Soviet leaders having been duped in the past, would
accept nothing
less than an ironclad
military
alliance. If the Anglo-French
did not like
Soviet proposals, said Molotov, he was prepared
to consider a straight
triple alliance
guaranteeing
the security of the contracting parties against direct aggression.139
Bonnet felt trapped.
A straight triple alliance would leave Poland and Romania
unprotected,
but Molotov's insistence on tying political and military agreements
together would enable the Soviet government to hold France and Great Britain to
ransom.
In August, when the danger
of war was greatest,
the Soviet side could tighten
324
THE ANGLO-FRANCO-SOVIET ALLIANCE IN 1939
the screw: either you agree to our terms or we break off talks and the political
agreement
falls to the ground. Any military agreement
would hinge on the assent of
the grudging
Poles and Romanians.'40
Naggiar's minutes
aptly described the situation:
the Quai d'Orsay calculated on the 'psychological' effect on Hitler of an Anglo-
Franco-Soviet
political agreement. 'The puerile idea is that we will force Hitler to
back down with words, without the only reality which will cause him to reflect: the
assent of Poland to a military
accord with Russia'.141 A few days later Naggiar wrote
again, 'London and Paris continue not to want to understand what is essential in these
negotiations:
a military agreement
which would permit Russia to make geographical
contact with Germany
to replicate the military conditions of 1914'.142
Not wanting to understand caused mounting frustration
in London. The British
cabinet,
which at first
thought
the Soviet government
was serious about
an agreement,
though intending to drive a hard bargain,
in late July began to wonder. On 19 July
Halifax and Chamberlain
expatiated in the Committee on Foreign Policy on how
'humiliating
for us' it would be to make further concessions to Molotov when he
would make none of his own.
[Halifax]
said that there should also be borne in mind the effect on Herr Hitler's mind of
our
going
down on our knees
to Soviet
Russia
to implore
her assistance. Herr Hitler has a
very
low opinion
of Russia and our action would
confirm him in the idea
that we were a
weak and feeble folk. Considerations of this kind should be taken
into account.
On the other
hand, domestic pressures
were building up, a campaign
to put Churchill
in the cabinet had been underway
for some time, and Chamberlain feared 'consider-
able trouble' in the House of Commons over delays in concluding an agreement.
The
prime minister was in no hurry
for military conversations,
but Halifax feared that it
might be 'somewhat difficult to persuade
the French to adopt our point of view'. In
any event, one cabinet member, sounding like Bonnet, thought that if talks were to
break down, it would be important
to have public opinion on 'our' side.143
Events began to move quickly, and made this cabinet debate somewhat academic.
Molotov indicated that he was more or less satisfied with the political agreement,
remaining
difficulties over the definition of 'indirect
aggression'
could be settled later.
He wanted
military
conversations
to start at once, and Naggiar
and Seeds both pressed
for acceptance of Molotov's proposal. The French and British governments agreed
quickly-for a change. The British, however, were not prepared
to let the issue of
'indirect
aggression' be set aside and they made agreement
on it a condition for the
conclusion of a military accord. As Halifax explained at a July meeting of the
Committee
on Foreign
Policy, 'by encouraging
Soviet Russia in the matter
of internal
interference we should be doing incalculable damage to our interests both at home
and throughout
the world'.144 The British government
did not wish to facilitate the
spread
of bolshevism. This could explain why earlier
in July when one British
officer,
General Ironside, opined that an agreement
with the USSR 'was the only thing we
could do', Chamberlain
shot back, 'the only thing we cannot do'. Ironside
concluded
that Chamberlain's
policy a month before the invasion of Poland was 'not hurrying
on getting in Russia'.145
On the other hand, the French
position was stiffening, or so Leger said to Phipps
in July. Daladier was very resolute and 'firmly
convinced of the necessity of showing
325
MICHAEL CARLEY
an irreducible refusal to treat with a rdgime in whose word no confidence could be
placed and with which any treaty must be valueless'. Indeed, 'so convinced was
Daladier of the wisdom of an attitude
of determined reserve that he had even given
orders against any manifestations of friendship towards Germany such as mutual
visits for athletic contests and such like: it was better for the time being to renounce
the natural instinct to act "en gentlemen". ..'146 Leger offered no comment-or Phipps
did not record it-on negotiations with the USSR.
In the meantime
Soviet officials continued
discussions with their German counter-
parts. In mid-July
the chief of the Soviet trade
mission in Berlin informed
Schnurre,
responsible for economic negotiations, that the Soviet government was prepared
at
once to sign a new trade
agreement.
Schnurre
countered
by proposing
a normalisation
of Soviet-German political as well as economic relations. The Soviet side replied
evasively, saying that normalisation would have to take place slowly and gradually.'47
Discussions with the French and British still appeared
to have priority, but if they
went wrong, the option was open for an accommodation
with Germany.
In anticipation
of staff talks in Moscow the French and British governments
made
their plans. Neither expected a quick conclusion as the Soviet would want a detailed
agreement. Negotiations would drag out and eventually some general undertaking
would be concluded.
This did not trouble
Halifax, since as long as military
conversa-
tions were taking
place, he mistakenly
reckoned that 'we should be preventing
Soviet
Russia from entering
the German
camp'. Chamberlain
went along because 'he did not
attach
any very great importance'
to the talks. He told Admiral
Drax, the head of the
British
mission to Moscow, 'that the House of Commons
had pushed
him further than
he had wished to go'.148
Making a military agreement conditional on Soviet acceptance of the British
definition of 'indirect
aggression' led to instructions for British representatives
'to go
very slowly' in the military negotiations. If there were no agreement,
at least time
would be gained until the autumn or winter, delaying the outbreak of war.149
Complacency
was reflected in different
ways. As is well known, the British govern-
ment opted to send its mission to the USSR by a slow merchant
ship, its modem
flying boats being tied up by routine
fleet manoeuvres.150
The talks seemed of so little
import
that Halifax had 'scarcely
perused' British
instructions.
Concerns
about Soviet
impatience if the British dragged out the talks were shrugged off. And the British
delegation was instructed to avoid discussion of Soviet aid to Poland and Romania;
the Soviet Union would have to negotiate directly with the Polish and Romanian
governments.
15
British complacency was not entirely shared
by the French. They were impatient
for the talks to begin and wanted to send their delegation more quickly to the USSR.
As was their habit, however, after complaining about British travel plans, they
finished by going along with them. Instructions
given to the head of the French
delegation, General
Doumenc, were brief and vague, 'almost useless', according
to a
British source, though the much longer British instructions were no better.152 Like the
British instructions,
they said little about Soviet aid to Poland and Romania, except
to note that Poland was unlikely to agree to Red Army passage across its territory.153
Doumenc complained
to Leger that he was going to Moscow 'empty-handed',
not a
good negotiating posture for supplicants. Leger agreed. Bonnet and Daladier, more
326
THE ANGLO-FRANCO-SOVIET ALLIANCE IN 1939
rousing, urged Doumenc to come back with an agreement. 'Make promises if you
have to', said Bonnet. What promises? asked Doumenc. 'Whatever you think
necessary', replied Bonnet; if the negotiations fail war is inevitable. 'Au revoir et
bonne chance!', bade Daladier.'54
With such fatuous, if not duplicitous instructions did Doumenc set off to
Moscow with his British counterpart,
Drax. The Anglo-French delegations arrived
on 11 August. Doumenc advised Naggiar that Daladier had given him instructions
not to agree to any military accord stipulating Red Army passage across Poland.
Doumenc should indicate to the Soviet authorities that they were being asked only
to provide military supplies to Poland and other such aid as the Polish government
might eventually request. 'If the Russians do not want to conclude on this basis',
added Daladier, 'I have another card to play, and I will play it if necessary'.
Doumenc did not say what it was or Daladier did not name his other card. In any
event, Doumenc told Naggiar that Drax's instructions were to delay an agreement.
Naggiar was appalled, telling Doumenc that their instructions would kill the
negotiations.'55
As the ambassador noted in retrospect,
'I recommended a well defined
military agreement and they send from Paris and London two missions instructed
to agree to nothing in this regard. As improbable
as this seems, it is nevertheless
true'.156
After repeatedly warning of the need to face the question of Red Army passage
across Poland,
Naggiar was at his wit's end. He immediately
cabled Paris that British
instructions were at variance
with what had been agreed by the three
governments
and
that they were exceedingly dangerous
unless the British government 'secretly hoped
for the failure of the talks'. The Soviet leaders were already highly suspicious of
Anglo-French
motives, they would now only become more so. Naggiar asked Bonnet
to intervene in London.'57
The Soviet government
was aware of what was going on. Mandel told Surits on 2
August that Doumenc was going to Moscow without detailed instructions. 'London
and Paris (owing to the pressure
of public opinion) want to avoid a breakdown of the
talks, but there is no sign of any desire to achieve a serious agreement
that should be
put into effect immediately'.158 Maisky sent similar information.
In Moscow Stalin
observed to Molotov that London and Paris were not serious, they 'still want to play
poker'. Molotov advised that they had to go ahead with the talks anyway. 'Let them
show their cards', he said. 'Agreed', replied Stalin, 'if we must'."59
Like Daladier, Stalin also had another card to play-in Berlin. In early August
German
diplomatic
initiatives toward the Soviet government
became more pressing as
German military preparations
for an invasion of Poland matured. 'There was no
problem
from the Baltic to the Black Sea', said Ribbentrop
to Astakhov, which could
not be resolved. Astakhov demurred,
and the Germans assumed that talks with the
British and French
remained the Soviet priority.
It was still a game of cat and mouse,
but not for long. The Soviet leaders not only distrusted the Anglo-French
but had to
worry
about
security
in the far east. The Red Army was just then fighting
off Japanese
raids on the Manchurian frontier. The Germans
might help in settling the conflict. On
12 August Astakhov indicated to Schnurre
that the Soviet government
was prepared
to undertake economic and political negotiations, the only qualification
being that
they should take place by stages. On 15 August the German ambassador
in Moscow,
327
MICHAEL CARLEY
Schulenburg,
proposed to Molotov a meeting with Ribbentrop
in Moscow to settle
outstanding differences. Would the German government be prepared to sign a
non-aggression
pact? asked Molotov. But Molotov stalled on a visit by Ribbentrop;
this would require 'adequate preparation'.60
Meanwhile in Paris the Quai d'Orsay, reacting to Naggiar's cable of 12 August,
asked the Foreign
Office 'to relax the instructions'
to Drax. Seeds also cabled London
with the same request. The 'French general has instructions to do his utmost to
conclude military agreement
at the earliest
possible date, and such instructions
clearly
do not tally with those given to Drax'. Seeds asked to know if the government
definitely wanted progress in the talks, 'beyond vague generalities'. If not, it would
be a pity 'as all indications so far go to show that Soviet military negotiators are
really out for business'.161 The deputy chiefs of staff agreed with Seeds, and the
Foreign Office advised that Drax's instructions could be loosened, though not
completely. But Halifax was puzzled by Seeds' comment on Doumenc's instructions
since the French mission had not shown any impatience
to conclude while in London.
'C'est tres juste', minuted Naggiar.'62
The talks began in Moscow on Saturday
12 August. As is well known, they ran into
early trouble when Voroshilov, the head of the Soviet delegation, put his written
powers on the table and asked for those of Doumenc and Drax. Doumenc provided
a vague letter of authority from Daladier. Drax, embarrassed,
said he had none.
Voroshilov scowled, but finally agreed to proceed while Drax hurriedly cabled
London asking for written instructions by return air mail! The Foreign Office
complied;
Drax would have power to discuss and to negotiate, but still not to sign.163
The French and British had planned to keep the negotiations to generalities. Not
Voroshilov; he wanted to discuss operational plans and he would not let his
interlocutors dodge the issues. On 13 August, after listening to an expose by
Doumenc, Voroshilov asked how they envisaged the role of the USSR in the event
of aggression against the prospective allied powers, and in particular
Poland and
Romania.164
The following day, 14 August, Voroshilov repeated
his question. Dou-
menc, respecting Daladier's instructions,
answered that each ally would defend its
own territory,
asking for help if necessary. What if they do not ask in good time?
asked Voroshilov. 'It will mean they have put up their hands, that they will have
surrendered'. Doumenc responded evasively; Drax said that Poland and Romania
would 'soon ['in two weeks', according to Doumenc's account] become German
provinces' if they did not accept Soviet military support.
The marshal allowed his
interlocuters to dance around the issue a little longer, then he cut them short,
I want a clear answer to my very clear question concerning the joint action of the Armed
Forces of Britain, France and the Soviet Union against the common enemy ... should he
attack.
That is all I want to know ... Do the French and British General Staffs think the
Soviet land forces will be admitted to Polish territory
in order to make direct contact with
the enemy in case Poland is attacked?
Doumenc and Drax, discountenanced, still tried to dodge, but Voroshilov would not
tolerate it. 'I want a straight answer. .. Your opinion is that Poland and Romania will
ask for help. I doubt if it would turn out like that. They might ask for aid ... or they
might not, or they might ask for it too late'. If so, 'their forces will be destroyed.
328
THE ANGLO-FRANCO-SOVIET ALLIANCE IN 1939
These troops should be used as an additional allied asset; it is in the interest neither
of England, nor of France, nor of the USSR that they should be destroyed'.165
Finally, after five years of Anglo-French evasion, Voroshilov backed his would-be
allies up against the wall. Drax was flummoxed. Naggiar was not ready to call it quits.
I told you so, he cabled Paris. But it was still not too late to extort an answer from
the Poles and Romanians. Seeds cabled London, supporting Naggiar. We are the
'petitioners in this matter', said Seeds, the onus is on London and Paris to obtain an
answer from Warsaw.166
In London the deputy chiefs of staff, whom Chamberlain had tried at times to
muzzle or ignore, would be muzzled or ignored no longer. We want 'to put on
record', they said pointedly, 'certain general observations on the broad question of the
use of Polish and Romanian territory by the Russian forces'. Voroshilov could have
written the report. It was no time for half-measures, said the deputy chiefs, the
'strongest pressure' should be brought to bear on Poland and Romania; 'the Russians
should be given every facility for rendering assistance and putting their maximum
weight into the scale on the side of the anti-aggression powers'. If this is not done,
the Poles would have no chance against a German attack.
The supply of arms and war material
is not enough. If the Russians are to collaborate
in
resisting German
aggression against Poland or Romania
they can only do so effectively on
Polish or Romanian
soil; and ... if permission for this were witheld till war breaks out, it
would then be too late. The most the Allies could then hope for would be to avenge Poland
and Romania and perhaps
restore their independence
as a result of the defeat of Germany
in a long war.
Without immediate and effective Russian assistance . . . the longer that war would be, and
the less chance there would be of either Poland or Romania emerging at the end of it as
independent
states in anything like their original form.
Who can say now that the deputy chiefs were wrong? The 'unpalatable truth', they
said, had to be presented 'with absolute frankness' in Warsaw and Bucharest. A treaty
with the USSR was 'the best way of preventing a war'; if it failed, Poland and
Romania could pay the price of a possible Soviet-German rapprochement.167
The war winds were blowing hot now, but apparently not hot enough as the Foreign
Office was still producing papers on 'indirect aggression', 'Comique si cela n'etait
pas tragique', scribbled Naggiar.168 In Paris Voroshilov's ultimatum and Naggiar's
cables prompted the Quai d'Orsay to press the Polish government to accept Red Army
passage across Polish territory. The Polish government refused to cooperate. Moscow
might think Poland afraid and put up the price of its help. 'Bargaining with the Soviet
government ... was like doing a deal in an oriental bazaar; the essential thing was
to show no interest in what you really wish to buy'.169
On 15 August Bonnet summoned the Polish ambassador in Paris, Lukasziewicz,
who said Beck would certainly reject out of hand a Soviet demand for passage.170
Bonnet sent instructions to Noel to see Beck, and the French military attache, General
Musse, was ordered back to Warsaw. In the midst of a full-blown crisis, commented
Naggiar, 'the military attache was on holiday in Biarritz'. It was worse than that;
neither Noel nor Musse was prepared to apply the full rigour of their instructions.
Noel feared to compromise his personal position in Warsaw. Musse was vulnerable
to Polish influence and questioned Soviet good faith as much as did the Poles.171
329
MICHAEL
CARLEY
Doumenc wanted to send a senior officer to Warsaw,
but Paris blocked it for fear of
undesirable
publicity. He sent instead a subaltern,
Captain Beaufre, who could not
hope to influence Noel or Musse. Typical of the negotiations, Beaufre missed his
plane back to Moscow, prompting Naggiar to more sarcastic marginalia.
With such
messengers there was no chance of success. The Soviet side would let us cut our
throats,
Drax reported,
over the question
of Red Army
passage across Poland.
Naggiar
signalled that if the Poles did not agree, the talks in Moscow would fail.'72
The Foreign Office sent instructions
to Kennard to support
the French, though he
had no greater success. 'We have done our best', Kennard said, but the Polish
government would not budge. Quite apart from centuries-old national animosities,
'strong internal
political reasons' dictated the Polish position.
It is unthinkable
that
the
present political
structure
of Eastern Galicia could
survive the
entry
of Russian
troops, especially
as communism makes a certain
appeal
to young
Ukrainians.
In
Vilna area
large
White Russian
population
is politically
immature and is easily
influenced
by Soviet propaganda.'73
The Foreign Office sent additional instructions, but Kennard replied that he had
already used his best arguments
and had decided 'to refrain
from further action'.74
The Quai d'Orsay
directed Noel to try again. On 21 August the French
government
authorised
Doumenc-though the British never sent similar instructions
to Drax-to
sign the best agreement he could get with the Soviet Union. 'Too late', minuted
Naggiar.175
On 17 August the Soviet government
suggested
to Berlin a non-aggression
pact with a protocol defining German and Soviet foreign policy interests. Stalin's
willingness to wait for acceptable Anglo-French
offers was nearly-but not quite-at
an end. When Ribbentrop pressed
for an immediate
meeting in Moscow, Molotov still
stalled, suggesting 26 or 27 August. Until the last moment, the Germans were not
certain that the Soviet Union would conclude. Hitler, impatient
for a showdown with
Poland, sent a cable to Stalin insisting on an earlier meeting. During the evening of
20/21 August Stalin, after some hesitation, agreed.176
On 21 August Tass announced
the signature
of a Soviet-German trade
agreement;
on 22 August that
Ribbentrop
was
expected in Moscow on the morrow to conclude a non-aggression
pact.
Doumenc saw Voroshilov on the evening of 22 August in a last-ditch attempt
to
save the situation. The French government,
he said, had authorised him to sign an
agreement consenting to Red Army passage across Poland. Does the British govern-
ment concur?
asked Voroshilov. Doumenc did not know. What about the Polish and
Romanian governments? asked Voroshilov. Doumenc could not say. 'I am per-
suaded', replied Voroshilov, 'that the Poles would want to participate directly in our
talks had they given their consent to the passage of Soviet troops. They would have
insisted...',77 The best the Poles would do was to agree on 23 August that in the
event of German aggression some form of Polish-Soviet cooperation would not
necessarily be excluded. This is not enough, noted Naggiar.178 Ribbentrop
arrived
in
Moscow the same day and signed a non-aggression
pact in the early hours of the
following morning.
The pill was bitter
to swallow. Seeds went to see Molotov later on the evening of
22 August after Doumenc had met Voroshilov. The meeting was stormy. Molotov
angrily rejected Seeds' accusation of bad faith. He would not allow the British 'to
330
THE ANGLO-FRANCO-SOVIET ALLIANCE IN 1939
stand in judgement of the Soviet government'.
You should have warned
us, accused
Seeds. The British government
does not advise us of changes in its policy, replied
Molotov. This is different, retorted Seeds.
The British government
was not serious, said Molotov, the 'height of insincerity
had been reached when military missions arrived in Moscow empty-handed' and
unwilling to deal with the question
of Red Army passage across Poland and Romania.
You were only 'playing with us', accused Molotov. Finally, the Soviet government
had decided-'either yesterday
or the day before' surmised
Seeds-to accept German
proposals.
Seeds denied that the British mission had arrived 'empty-handed'-though Dou-
menc had used the same expression when discussing his instructions with Leger in
Paris. Molotov waved off Seeds' explanation,
saying that the passage issue had been
raised 'on several occasions in the past' and that the French could never bring
themselves 'to give a clear answer'.79
Who can say that Molotov was wrong? Even
in 1935, minuted Naggiar, the USSR had proposed definite treaty obligations 'to
which we responded
with vague formulations'.180
Molotov could have added that Litvinov had warned countless times of the Soviet
option of a German
rapprochement.
So did Alphand,
Coulondre,
Naggiar and Payart.
French cabinet ministers Mandel and Reynaud
had even encouraged
Surits to threaten
this option in order to shake French complacency. How many times did I say it?
remarked
Alphand: 'Implement
the [mutual assistance] accord with the USSR, or the
Russians
will come to terms with the Germans'.l81 It had been no use, the French and
British governments
did not take such warnings seriously-or in any event, seriously
enough. The Soviet authorities
had been too eager to conclude with the West.
In Warsaw Beck was untroubled
by the sudden turn in events which simply
confirmed
his suspicions of the Soviet Union. 'Really not much had changed', Beck
told Noel. When Naggiar saw this report,
he minuted, 'One cannot imagine anything
more insane'. In Paris Daladier
thought the German
army would march into Poland
in a matter of days. He condemned the Poles' 'folly' as much as the Soviet
'duplicity',
though
in the latter case he had little room for criticism.182
Bonnet funked.
He cabled Naggiar to invoke the consultative clause of the 1935 mutual assistance
pact. 'A little late', thought
Naggiar.183
Beyond a Bonnet flirt with Rome, the French
ran out of ideas. In London the Chamberlain
government
sought a way out up to the
last minute, but to no avail.
The outbreak of war
In the early morning of 1 September 60 German divisions invaded Poland. On 2
September
Chamberlain
spoke in the House of Commons not of a declaration
of war
but of further
negotiations.
There was consternation
in the House which thought
that
Chamberlain was going to run for it. An Opposition leader rose to speak. One MP
shouted 'Speak for England'; the House rumbled its approval. Appeasement was
finally dead, or at least dying. It died harder in France.
It took the French
government
three days before it could muster up determination
enough to issue an ultimatum
to
Germany. And the French did so reluctantly, trailing the British. After years of
criticising
the Red Army, the French
high command launched the drole de guerre, not
331
MICHAEL
CARLEY
an offensive, and let Poland be crushed in a fortnight-about what Drax had predicted
to Voroshilov a few weeks before.
Is it any wonder that the Soviet leaders mistrusted the French and British
governments?
If the Anglo-French
were ready to let Poland be crushed, would they
have done more for the USSR? Volkogonov says that both sides lacked statesmen to
overcome mutual distrust and be patient enough to work out an agreement.184
This is
undoubtedly
so; perhaps in another week the Poles might have been compelled to
yield. But would it have made the French more willing to take the offensive?
Thinking
not, the Soviet government
saw a no-win situation:
fight now, or fight later.
Stalin preferred
to fight later. It was not a question of whether Stalin trusted Hitler
more than the Anglo-French;
Stalin trusted
no one. It was a question of buying time,
or of sauve qui peut. His decision was akin to that of the Anglo-French
in 1938 not
to go to war over Czechoslovakia. This was a tit-for-tat policy, encouraging the
'crocodile' to stalk other
prey. Stalin's policy was perhaps
understandable,
but it was
not that of Volkogonov's statesman.
In hindsight, Stalin gravely miscalculated;
he
should have been ready to fight at once because even a French
army standing
on the
defensive would have been a far greater
asset than no French
army
at all, as he would
discover in June 1941 when the well-blooded, far more powerful
Nazi armies invaded
the USSR. But hindsight is twenty-twenty; sometimes we forget, noted A. J. P.
Taylor, that 'events ... in the past were once in the future'. In 1942 Molotov saw
Strang again in London: 'We did our best in 1939, but we failed: we were both at
fault' .185
Mistrust motivated Anglo-French
policy, but anti-bolshevism was its most impor-
tant component. Watt discounts Western anti-bolshevism, and says Maisky and
Litvinov were purblind ideologues who could not see straight.'86
Taylor said that
Chamberlain
'seemed to be practising
ideological aloofness toward the Soviet Union',
but here Taylor understated
the case. Chamberlain was an anti-bolshevik
ideologue.
He mostly hid his ideology for fear of provoking opposition attacks. But he never
embraced the idea of an Anglo-Soviet alliance and resisted every move in that
direction.
Taylor added that an Anglo-Soviet alliance was the policy of the Opposi-
tion. Chamberlain was a 'good hater', and when he looked at the possibility of a
Soviet alliance 'he saw there faces which reminded him of the Opposition front
bench'-but especially of 'Winston who is the worst of the lot', whose entry into the
cabinet would signal the end of appeasement.'87
For Chamberlain a Soviet alliance
and appeasement
were at opposite poles.
The French too were motivated by anti-bolshevism,
especially when the French
Communist
Party and the left in general showed signs of strength,
as was the case in
the mid-1930s. France had too long 'bitten at the hook of Nazi anti-bolshevik
propaganda', the Red bogey had stopped the development of a Franco-Soviet
alliance.'88 But in France anti-bolshevism was diluted by uncertainty, sympathy for
fascism, and plain fear. By 1939 the Popular Front was dead, French communists
were marginalised,
and Daladier and Bonnet could contemplate
a closer relationship
with the USSR, but not too close. The idea that the French resumed the diplomatic
initiative
in 1939 and were determined to obtain
a Soviet alliance is exaggerated.
The
French objective, like that of the British, was to have the USSR as an obliging
auxiliary,
out of the German
camp, but not fully in the Anglo-French. 'The Soviet'
332
THE ANGLO-FRANCO-SOVIET ALLIANCE IN 1939
would be a supplier of 'guns and potatoes', to borrow a phrase, for Poland which
would constitute a potential second front against Germany.
Not a real second front,
but the reflection of one, just menacing enough to bluff Hitler. The French were as
fond as Stalin of the image of playing poker, and they played until the last minute.189
But Hitler did also, and he played va banque.
The French and British governments
did not doubt the Soviet desire for Franco-
Soviet staff talks or for an alliance against Nazi Germany. They feared it-because
of the anticipated growth of Soviet prestige and influence and the spread of
communism
in the event of a victorious war. They did not foresee that a successful
Allied coalition where Polish, French and Romanian armies remained
in being would
limit the expansion
of Soviet influence.
The idea was to finesse the Soviet leaders, to
benefit from their support
but not to pay a price for it. The Chamberlain-Daladier
policy was less a mistake than a calculated risk which went wrong. It was a policy
driven by anti-bolshevism.
About the only contemporary
success the French and British governments enjoyed
was to put the blame for the failure of negotiations on the Soviet side. At the time,
however, the Foreign Office was not so sure. Louis Fischer, a well-known American
journalist and historian
previously 'infected with bolshevik ideas', but then 'disillu-
sioned and disappointed',
like others on the left, by the Nazi-Soviet non-aggression
pact, asked for privileged information for a story condemning
Soviet policy. Halifax
refused, calculating that the 'left' could scarcely be more disillusioned, and that 'it
might not impossibly cause ourselves some embarrassment. ..' 90 Halifax need not
have worried;
most Western
historians still roundly
condemn
the Soviet leadership
for
the pact with the Nazis. Perhaps responsibilities should be more equitably appor-
tioned. Until August 1939 the Soviet Union held the high political ground
in the effort
to resist Nazism. It was high ground awash in blood spilled in the Stalinist purges,
but it was high ground
nevertheless.
The French
and British should have been alerted
by the sacking of Litvinov, but the 'men of Munich' were blinded
by ideological fears
and calculations.
Stalin, on the other
hand, was too unscrupulous,
too cynical to be an ideologue; he
was less of one, at any rate, than Chamberlain or Daladier. Litvinov was not one at
all; he had been too long in Narkomindel;
he was a skilled and courageous
diplomat
out to serve the national
interests of his country.
He did not care about the Comintern
or the French Communist
Party, or any foreign communist
party for that matter,
he
was interested in a Franco-Soviet
and then an Anglo-Franco-Soviet
alliance against
Nazism. Litvinov was the statesman whom Volkogonov says the Soviet Union
needed; he had the necessary patience, but not quite the staying power.
It was not for nothing that Auden called the 1930s the 'low, dishonest decade'; in
August 1939 Stalin gave up the Soviet's small patch of high ground,
which had to be
repurchased
at terrible cost by the Soviet peoples, though the price of appeasement
was high for all the nations which fought fascism. Paradoxically,
it was the Soviet
leaders who through
most of the inter-war
years were willing to treat with the West
on a more pragmatic
basis. Litvinov was the exemplar
of this approach.
Ideologically
driven Soviet foreign policies were the exception, not the rule.
In France and Great Britain the opposite seems true. Anti-communist hysteria
during
the inter-war
years was as strident
as it would be after 1945 when it was called
333
MICHAEL CARLEY
the Cold War. French historians have stressed the decadence and the ideological
divisions of French society in the 1930s. Dissident British Tories spoke of the
appeasers' 'fatal confusion' between class and national interests. The American
historian F. L. Schuman wrote that the Cold War started after the Bolshevik
revolution in 1917, though it was interrupted during the inter-war years by a period
of 'coexistence'.'19 These ideas may be carried a step further. The Cold War did
indeed begin in 1917, but there was no interregnum. The mutual mistrust engendered
by it did much to prevent Anglo-French pragmatists from banding together with the
USSR in 1939 to break Hitler's neck and thus contributed greatly to the origins of
World War II.
Social Science Federation of Canada, Canadian Federation for the Humanities
' I wish to thank the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada for its
financial
support
and the Social Science Federation
of Canada and the Canadian Federation for the
Humanities
for leave of absence to do continuing
research. Thanks are also due to John
C. Cairns,
Richard K. Debo and Robert J. Young
for reading
and
commenting
on an earlier draft.
2 Earl of Birkenhead,
Halifax
(London,
1965), p. 440.
3 E.g. V. Ya. Sipols,
Diplomaticheskaya
bor'ba
nakanune vtoroi mirovoi
voiny
(Moscow, 1989),
pp.
262-267; or I. K. Koblyakov,
USSR;
For Peace
Against Aggression,
1933-1941 (Moscow,
1976),
pp. 144-156. See also 'Kruglyi
stol: vtoraya mirovaya
voina: istoki i prichimy',
Voprosy
istorii,
6,
1989, pp. 3-32.
4 D. Cameron
Watt,
How War
Came
(London, 1990), pp. 338, 452.
5 E.g. Jean-Baptiste
Duroselle, La ddcadence,
1932-1939 (Paris, 1985), pp. 416-417, and
passim;
Robert
J. Young,
In Command
of France: French
Policy and
Military Planning,
1933-1940,
(Cambridge,
MA, 1978), pp. 236-237, 240-241; and Robert
J. Young, 'A. J. P. Taylor and the
Problem
with France' in G. Martel,
ed., The
Origins
of the
Second
World War
Reconsidered
(Boston,
MA, 1986), pp. 97-118.
6 K. Feiling, The Life of Neville Chamberlain
(London, 1947), p. 403; and John Charmley,
Chamberlain and the Lost Peace (London, 1989), p. 181.
7 Geoffrey
Roberts,
The Unholy
Alliance:
Stalin's
Pact with
Hitler (Bloomington,
IN., 1989),
pp. 225-226; and Watt,
How War
Came,
p. 120.
8 On Tory anti-bolshevism
see Margaret
George, Warped
Vision: British Foreign Policy,
1933-1939, (Pittsburgh,
PA, 1965),
passim;
Neville Thompson,
The
Anti-Appeasers:
Conservative
Opposition
to Appeasement
in the 1930s (Oxford, 1971), pp. 38-40, and passim; and Maurice
Cowling, The Impact of Hitler: British Politics and British Policy, 1933-1940 (London, 1975),
passim.
On Chamberlain's
anti-bolshevism see Sidney
Aster,
1939: The
Making of the Second World
War
(London,
1973), pp. 184-185 and
passim.
9 Duroselle, Decadence,
pp. 12-27.
10
Ren6
Girault,
'Les d6cideurs
francais et la puissance
francaise
en 1938-1939', in R. Girault
& Robert
Frank,
eds, La puissance
en Europe,
1938-1940 (Paris,
1984), pp. 34-40.
" A. J. P. Taylor,
The Origins
of the Second
World
War
(Harmondsworth, 1964), p. 318.
12 Taylor, The Origins, p. 319; Dimitri Volkogonov, Staline (Paris, 1991), p. 268; Roy
Medvedev,
Let
History Judge:
The
Origins
and Consequences
of Stalinism
(New York,
1989),
p. 728.
13
G. Gorodetsky,
'The
Impact
of the Ribbentrop-Molotov
Pact on the Course
of Soviet
Foreign
Policy', Cahiers
du monde
russe et sovietique,
XXXI, 1, 1990, pp. 27-28. For the view that the
Soviet government
preferred
a Soviet-German
accord see among others Gerhard
Weinberg,
The
Foreign
Policy of Hitler's
Germany: Starting
World
War
II, 1937-1939 (Chicago,
IL, 1980),
passim,
or Adam
Ulam, Expansion
and Coexistence
(New York, 1968), pp. 257-279). T. J. Uldricks
notes
that
this view 'makes
98 per cent of all Soviet diplomatic
activity
a brittle
cover for the remaining
covert
2 per
cent'. T. J. Uldricks,
'A. J. P. Taylor
and the Russians',
in Martel,
The
Origins,
p. 178).
14 In some respects,
this article
is a reprise
and
an expansion-with published
and
unpublished
papers
to hand-of the views of L. B. Namier,
Diplomatic
Prelude,
1938-1939 (London,
1948),
pp.
143-210. See also F. L. Schuman,
Soviet Politics at Home and Abroad (New York,1948),
pp.
361-378.
15 G. Clerk, British
ambassador
in Paris,
n? 31 saving,
26 February
1935, and minute
by Orme
Garton
Sargent,
assistant
under-secretary
of state, C1558/55/18,
P[ublic] R[ecords] O[ffice,
London],
334
THE ANGLO-FRANCO-SOVIET ALLIANCE IN 1939
F[oreign] O[ffice] 371 18827; and Minute, n? N1313/53/38, 15 March 1935, comment by Sargent,
PRO FO 371 19456.
16 Alphand, n?s 505-11, 9 November 1934, M[inistere des] A[ffaires] 6[trangeres], B[ureau du]
C[hiffre], t6elgrammes a l'arriv6e de Moscou, 1934-5; and M. J. Carley, 'Five Kopecks for Five
Kopecks: Franco-Soviet Trade Negotiations, 1928-1939', Cahiers du monde russe et sovietique,
XXXIII, 1, 1992, pp. 23-57.
17 N. Lloyd Thomas, British charg6 d'affaires in Paris, to Anthony Eden, foreign secretary, n?
1310, 14 October 1936, C7262/92/62, PRO FO 271 19880.
18 Louis Maurin, minister of war, to Laval, n? 1365 2/EMA-SAE, 29 May 1935, S[ervice]
h[istorique de l']a[rmee de] t[erre, Vincennes] 7N 3186.
19 Potemkin to Litvinov, 26 June 1935, Kommissiya po izdaniyu diplomaticheskikh dokumen-
tov, D[okumenty] v[neshnei] p[olitiki SSSR], 21 vols (Moscow, 1958-77), XVIII, pp. 415-421; Note,
Directeur politique [Paul Bargeton], MAE, 24 June 1935, MAE ancienne s6rie Z-Europe, 1930-
1940, followed by the geographic subheading, volume, and folio number, thus Z-URSS/1004, pp.
172-174; and also 'Note sur les avantages et les inconv6nients de l'alliance russe', Etat-Major de
l'Arm6e [EMA], 2e Bureau, 24 April 1935, SHAT 7N 3143.
20 Alphand, n?s 36-40, 25 January 1936, MAE BC, telegrammes a l'arriv6e de Moscou, 1936.
21 Potemkin to Litvinov, 26 July 1935, DVP, XVIII, pp. 415-421; Litvinov to Potemkin, 13
January 1936, ibid., XIX pp. 26-27; and 'Record of a conversation of the plenipotentiary representa-
tive of the USSR in France with the president of the council of ministers of France [Albert] Sarraut',
signed Potemkin, 14 March 1936, ibid, pp. 145-147.
22 Potemkin to N. N. Krestinsky, deputy commissar of foreign affairs, 26 March 1936, ibid, pp.
189-195.
23 Schweisguth notes, 24 June 1936, A[rchives] n[ationales, Paris], Papiers Schweisguth 351AP/
3; and Compte rendu d'une conversation entre M. Hirschfeld, charg6 d'affaires de l'URSS, et le
general Schweisguth', nd (but 30 June 1936), AN Papiers Schweisguth, 351AP/5.
24 'URSS, Manoeuvres de Russie blanche de septembre 1936', by Schweisguth, 5 October 1936,
SHAT 7N 3184.
25 Litvinov (from Geneva) to the Soviet commissariat for foreign affairs (Narkomindel), 5
October 1936, DVP, XIX, pp. 461-462; Potemkin to Narkomindel, 17 September 1936, ibid., pp.
428-429; and Potemkin to Narkomindel, 19 September 1936, ibid., pp. 430-432.
26 Daladier to Delbos, n? 1411 2/EMA SAE, 13 October 1936, SHAT 7N 3143; and the dossier
entitled 'Cession de mat6riel a l'URSS (juillet-september 1936)', AN Papiers Daladier, 496AP/7.
27 Schweisguth notes, 25 June 1936, AN Papiers Schweisguth, 351AP/3; and Girshfeld to
Narkomindel, 8 October 1936, DVP, XIX, pp. 465-466.
28 Schweisguth notes, 27 & 31 October, 7 November, 22 December 1936 & 5 January 1937, AN
Papiers Schweisguth, 351AP/3; cf., Maurice Vaisse, 'Les militaires francais et l'alliance franco-sovi-
dtique au cours des anndes 1930', Forces armees et systemes d'alliances: Colloque international
d'histoire militaire et d'etudes de defense nationale (Montpellier, 1981), II, pp. 696-697; and Young,
In Command of France, pp. 147-149.
29 Potemkin to Narkomindel, 9 November 1936, DVP, XIX, p. 549; and Litvinov to Potemkin,
14 November 1936, ibid, p. 775.
30 Coulondre, n?s 507-20, 12 November 1936, MAE BC, telegrammes a l'arrivde de Moscou,
1936; Coulondre, n?355, 16 November 1936, MAE Z-URSS/1005, pp. 14-22; and R. Coulondre,
De Staline a Hitler, souvenirs de deux ambassades, 1936-1939 (Paris, 1950), pp. 31-32.
31 Schweisguth notes, 22 October & 4 December 1936 (comments by General Marie-Eugene
Debeney), AN Papiers Schweisguth 351AP/3; and comment by deputy chief of staff Paul-Henri
Gerodias on Jean Payart, n? 308, 27 September 1936, SHAT 7N 3124.
32 Schweisguth notes, 8 January & 8 February 1937, AN Papiers Schweisguth, 351AP/3.
33 Schweisguth notes, 8 February & 19 March 1937, ibid.
34 Schweisguth notes, 8 February 1937, ibid. Young and Vaisse report the lack of French interest
in staff talks, but only allude to French duplicity (Young, In Command of France. . ., pp. 148-149;
and Vaisse, 'Les militaires francais.. .', p. 696).
35 'Visite du general Semenoff...', TRES SECRET, 17 February 1937, SHAT 7N 3186.
36 Potemkin to Narkomindel, 17 February 1937, DVP, XX, pp. 88-89; and 'Entretien avec
M. Potemkine... le 17 Fdvrier 1937. . ., Notes prises par L6on Blum', AN Papiers Daladier,
496AP/7,
37 'Compte rendu au ministre', TRES SECRET, n[ot] s[igned], 23 February 1937, AN Papiers
Daladier, 496AP/7.
38 Schweisguth notes, 19 March 1937, AN Papiers Schweisguth, 351AP/3.
335
MICHAEL CARLEY
39 'Conversation du general Schueisguth avec le general Semenoff.. .', TRES SECRET, 19
March 1937, SHAT 7N 3186.
40 Potemkin to Narkomindel, 23 March 1937, DVP, XX, pp. 141-142.
41 Girshfeld to Narkomindel, 27 March 1937, ibid, pp. 152, 703-704; and Schweisguth notes,
8 & 9 April 1937, AN Papiers Schweisguth, 351AP/3.
42 Schweisguth notes, 8 & 23 April 1937, AN Papiers Schweisguth, 351AP/3.
43 Schweisguth notes, 25 April, 14, 26, & 27 May 1937, ibid; Note by R. G. Vansittart,
permanent under-secretary of state, 13 May 1937, C3620/532/62, PRO FO 371 20702; and 'Extract
from a record of conversation at a lunch given by the Secretary of State to MM. Delbos & Leger on
15 May 1937', C3685/532/62, ibid.
44 Potemkin to Surits, 4 May 1937, DVP, XX, pp. 227-228.
45 Cf. Anthony Adamthwaite, France and the Coming of the Second World War, 1936-1939
(London, 1977), pp. 49-50; and Joel Colton, Leon Blum: Humanist in Politics (New York, 1966), pp.
210-213.
46 So said Etienne de Croy, Leger's private secretary, to Fitzroy Maclean, en route for Moscow,
on 17 December 1937 (Untitled minute, 18 December 1937, C8880/532/62, PRO FO 371 20702).
47 'Conversation avec M. Payard (sic). . .', nd (September 1936), ns, AN Papiers Schweisguth,
351AP/5; and 'Repercussions possibles d'un contact militaire franco-sovietique sur l'alliance franco-
polonaise.. .', EMA, 2e Bureau SAE, nd (probably June 1937), SHAT 7N 3143.
48 Relating two conversations at the end of June 1937 with the French journalist Pertinax, Lord
Chilston, British ambassador in Moscow, to Laurence Collier, head of the Northern department
at the
Foreign Office, 27 July 1937, N3932/45/38, PRO FO 371 21095.
49 'Note pour le Cabinet du ministre', n? 1579 2/EMA-SAE, signed Colson, 7 September 1937,
SHAT 7N 3186.
50 Surits to Litvinov, 27 November 1937, DVP, XX, pp. 630-634.
51 Potemkin to Surits, 19 December 1937, ibid., pp. 671-673.
52 Colonel A.-A. Palasse, French military attachd in Moscow, n? 427/S, 28 December 1937,
SHAT 7N 3123; and Coulondre, n? 308, 28 December 1937, MAE Z-URSS/1005, pp. 37-42; cf.,
J. Haslam, The Soviet Union and the Struggle for Collective Security in Europe, 1933-39 (New York,
1984), pp. 153-154.
53 See the exchange of correspondence and minutes in PRO FO 371 21094/21095.
54 Surits to Narkomindel, 15 February 1938, DVP, XXI, pp. 77-78; and Surits to Narkomindel,
22 February 1938, ibid, p. 84.
55 'Note pour le colonel Palasse...', n? 1356 2/EMA-SAE, signed General Henri-Fernard
Dentz, deputy chief of staff, 30 May 1938, SHAT 7N 3186.
56 Surits to Narkomindel, 5 May 1938, DVP, XXI, pp. 227-228
57 Surits to Litvinov, 27 July 1938, ibid., pp. 392-402.
58 Payart, n?s 663-5, 5 September 1938, MAE BC, telegrammes a l'arrivde de Moscou, 1938-9;
and Coulondre, n? 729, 28 September 1938, ibid. For a recent study of Soviet military preparations
during the Munich crisis, see G. Jukes, 'The Red Army and the Munich Crisis', Journal of
Contemporary History, 26, 1991, pp. 195-214.
59 Bonnet to Noel, n? 390, 23 May 1938, MAE Papiers 1940, Varsovie, telegrammes, d6part,
1938-1940; Noel, n?s 472-4, 10 May 1938, D[ocuments] d[iplomatiques]f[ran!cais], 2e sdrie (Paris,
1964-), IX, p. 673; 'Note d'audience du ministre [Bonnet]', 22 May 1938, ibid., pp. 846-847; Noel,
n? 556, 26 May 1938, ibid, p. 907; Noel, n? 293, 31 May 1939, ibid., pp. 973-979; Bonnet to
Coulondre, n?s 541-2, 24 September 1938 & n?s 536-7, 25 September 1938, MAE BC, telegrammes
au depart de Moscou, 1938-9; and Coulondre, n?s 724-7, 27 September 1938, MAE BC, tele-
grammes l'arrivee de Moscow, 1938-9.
60 Payart, n? 661, 4 September 1938, MAE BC, telegrammes a l'arrivee de Moscou, 1938-9;
Coulondre, n? 720, 24 September 1938, ibid.; Coulondre, n?s 724-7, 27 September 1938, ibid.; and
Bonnet to Coulondre, n? 555, 28 September 1938, ibid.
61 Coulondre, n? 742, 1 October 1938, MAE BC, telegrammes a l'arrivde de Moscou, 1938-9.
62 Georges Clemenceau, pere la victoire, premier, 1917-1920, and Raymond Poincare, president
of the Republic, 1913-1920, and premier, 1922-4, 1926-9 (Surits to Litvinov, 12 October 1938,
DVP, XXI pp. 575-581).
63 'Record of a conversation of the people's commissar for foreign affairs of the USSR and the
French ambassador in the USSR Coulondre', signed Litvinov, 16 October 1938, DVP, XXI,
pp. 589-590; Litvinov to Surits, 19 October 1938, ibid., p. 594; Coulondre, n? 283, 18 October 1938,
AN, Papiers Daladier, 496AP/11; Chilston, n? 442, 18 October 1938, N5164/97/38, PRO FO 371
22289; Coulondre, n?s 745-8, 5 October 1938, MAE BC, telegrammes a l'arrivee de Moscou,
1938-9.
336
THE ANGLO-FRANCO-SOVIET ALLIANCE IN 1939
64 Coulondre, n? 265, 4 October 1938, MAE Papiers 1940, Cabinet Bonnet/16, pp. 327-333;
Coulondre, n? 283, 18 October 1938, AN, Papiers Daladier, 496AP/11; Palasse, n? 507/S, 18 October
1938, SHAT 7N 3123; and 'Extract from a record of conversation.. .on 15 May 1937', C3685/532/
62, PRO FO 371 20702.
65 Charmley, Chamberlain, p. 144; and Cowling, The Impact of Hitler, p. 281.
66 Cowling, The Impact of Hitler, p. 169.
67 Memorandum by Harold Caccia, 3 January 1939, and attached minutes, N57/57/38, PRO FO
371 23677.
68 Charles Corbin, French ambassador in London, n? 110, 8 February 1935, Z-URSS/972, pp.
116-119.
69 Maisky to Narkomindel, 20 January 1939, V. M. Falin et al., eds, S[oviet] P[eace] E[fforts
on the Eve of World War II (September 1938-August 1939)] 2 vols (Moscow, 1973), I, pp. 178-180.
70 'Memorandum of a conversation. ..', by Litvinov, 19 February 1939, ibid., pp. 214-216; and
Seeds, n? 24, 19 February 1939, N902/57/38, PRO FO 371 23677.
71 Litvinov to Maisky, 4 March 1939, SPE, I, pp. 232-233. Watt says that Litvinov and Maisky,
ideologically blinkered, did not notice the gradual change in British policy, but clearly they did (How
War Came, p. 120).
72 'Secretary of State', by Hudson, 8 March 1939, N1389/57/38, PRO FO 371 23677; Watt
mistakenly says that the Hudson mission was only 'a narrow exercise in trade promotion' (How War
Came, p. 119). On this point see Maisky to Litvinov, 18 March 1939, A. P. Bondarenko et al., eds.,
God krizisa, [1938-1939, Dokumenty i materialy] 2 vols (Moscow, 1990), I, pp. 292-293. These
volumes add some interesting details to the story of Anglo-Franco-Soviet negotiations, but many of
the documents have already been published.
73 Payart, n?s 53-8, 1 February 1989, MAE, BC, t6ele6grammes
a 1'arriv6e de Moscou, 1938-9.
74 Payart, n?s 50-2, 31 January 1939; n?s 72-8, 6 Feb. 1939, ibid.; and Naggiar, n? 134, 24
February 1939; n?s 82-8, 9 February 1939, MAE Papiers Naggiar/10.
75 Payart, n?s 159-66, 11 March 1939, MAE Papiers Naggiar/10.
76 Naggiar's minute on his dispatch n? 161, 19 July 1939, ibid./8.
77 Payart, n?s 171-5, 15 March 1939, ibid./10.
78 For an early report see Raymond Brugere, French minister in Belgrade, n? 97, 1 March 1938,
Z-URSS/988, p. 59; also Coulondre, French ambassador in Berlin, n? 1203, 4 May 1939, DDF, 2e
tome XVI, pp. 109-111.
79 Cadogan's minute on a note by Sargent, 20 March 1939, C3775/3356/18, PRO FO 371 23061.
80 Eric Phipps, British ambassador in Paris, n? 114, 18 March 1939, C3455/3356/18, PRO FO
371 23060.
8S Winston S. Churchill, The Gathering Storm (Boston, MA, 1948), p. 322.
82 Noel, n? 19, 4 January 1939; and n? 74, 12 January 1939, MAE Z-URSS/1019.
83 Payart, n? 313, 20 August 1934, MAE Z-URSS/981, pp. 6-10; Jules Laroche, French
ambassador in Warsaw, n?s 483-6, 5 June 1934, MAE Z-URSS/965, pp. 63-65bis; Chilston n? 110
confidential, 9 March 1935, N1313/53/38, PRO FO 371 19456; Kennard to Collier, 6 April 1937,
N1926/45/38, PRO FO 371 21095; and Kennard to Sargent, 30 November 1938, D[ocuments on]
B[ritish] F[oreign] P[olicy], 3rd series, 9 vols (London, 1949-57), III, pp. 373-375.
84 Phipps, n? 114, 18 March 1939, minute by J. D. Roberts, C3455/3356/18, PRO FO 371
23060.
85 R. I. Campbell, British charg6 d'affaires in Paris, n? 155 saving, 22 March 1939, C3784/3356/
18, PRO FO 371 23061; 'Record of conversation between M. Leger and Mr. Campbell on March
18th', C3962/3356/18, ibid; and 'Record of an Anglo-French Conversation.. .', 21 March 1939,
DBFP, 3rd, IV, pp. 422-427.
86 William Manchester, The Caged Lion: Winston Spencer Churchill 1932-1940 (London,
1989), p. 480.
87 Birkenhead, Halifax, p. 434; and Anita Prazmowska, Britain, Poland, and the Eastern Front,
1939 (London, 1987), p. 52.
88 Taylor, The Origins..., pp. 276-277.
89 Seeds, n? 43, 23 March 1939, C3880/3356/18, PRO FO 371 23061; 'Notes of a conversa-
tion. . . [between Litvinov and Hudson]', 25 March 1939, God krizisa, I, pp. 324-327; and 'Notes of
a conversation... [between Potemkin & Hudson]', 27 March 1939, ibid., pp. 335-337.
90 Churchill, The Gathering Storm, p. 391; and Palasse to Dentz, n? 1955, 124 June 1938, SHAT
7N 3186.
91' W. Jedrzejewicz, ed., Diplomat in Berlin, 1933-1939: Papers and Memoirs of Jozef Lipski
(New York, 1968), pp. 504-507; cf., Prazmowska, Britain, Poland, and the Eastern Front. .., pp.
48-49, 60; and Charmley, Chamberlain, pp. 182-183.
337
MICHAEL CARLEY
92 'Record of an Anglo-French Conversation. ..', 22 March 1939, DBFP, 3rd, IV, pp. 457-463;
and Brian Bond, British Military Policy between the Two World Wars (London, 1980), p. 306.
93 Maisky to Narkomindel, 31 March 1939, SPE, I, p. 300.
94 Bond, British Military Policy..., pp. 307-308; and Prazmowska, Britain, Poland, and the
Eastern Front..., pp. 51-52.
95 Maisky to Narkomindel, 6 April 1939, God krizisa, I, pp. 361-363; Halifax to Seeds, n? 255,
6 April 1939, DBFP, 3rd, V, pp. 53-54; and minutes, C5430/3356/18, recording the views of Sargent,
Cadogan and Halifax between 6 and 8 April 1939, PRO FO 371 23063. God krizisa gives more
complete versions of at least a few documents previously published in SPE where ellipses were not
used to indicate deletions. In this case Maisky's report on 6 April of Halifax's assurances of good will
was previously omitted (cf., SPE, I, pp. 318-320).
96 E.g., Litvinov to Surits, 29 March 1939, God krizisa, I, pp. 342-343. A source of information
may have been a Soviet agent in the Foreign Office (Watt, How War Came, p. 116).
97 Note by Cadogan, 19 April 1939, C5460/15/18, PRO FO 371 22969; and Corbin, n? 409, 25
May 1939, DDF, 2e, XVI, pp. 562-566.
98 D. Dilks ed. The Diaries of Sir Alexander Cadogan, 1938-1945 (London, 1971), pp. 178-179.
99 Kennard to Cadogan, 18 April 1939, C5859/3356/18, PRO FO 371 23064; Kennard,
n? 38 (saving), 19 April 1939, C5676/3356/18, ibid.; and n? 116, 18 April 1939, C5682/3356/18,
ibid. 100 Minute, C5749/3356/18, 22 April 1939, ibid.
101 Minute, C6206/3356/18, 29 April 1939, ibid.
102 Maisky to Narkomindel, 29 April 1939, God krizisa, I, pp. 410-412.
103 'Record of an Anglo-French Conversation. . .', 21 March 1939, DBFP, 3rd, IV, pp. 422-427;
Seeds, n? 63, 14 April 1939, C5330/3356/18, PRO FO 371 23063; and Payart, n?s 235-9, 2 April
1939; n?s 265-9, 14 April 1939, MAE Papiers Naggiar/10.
104 Phipps to Halifax, n? 373, 28 March 1939, DBFP, 3rd, IV, p. 535; Surits to Narkomindel, 7
April 1939; SPE, 1, pp. 320-321; 8 April 1939, ibid., pp. 321-322; 11 April 1939, ibid., pp. 328-329;
and Surits to Narkomindel, 10 April 1939, God krizisa, I, p. 367.
105 Surits to Narkomindel, 14 April 1939, SPE, I, ibid., p. 341; and Bonnet to Payart, n? 129-36,
15 April 1939, MAE Papiers Naggiar/9.
106 Ivone Kirkpatrick, FO, London, to Phipps, n? 981, 20 April 1939, C5692/3356/18, PRO FO
371 23064; and Minute, C5842/3356/18, 25 April 1939, ibid.
107 ibid.; and Surits to Litvinov, 26 April 1939, SPE, I, pp. 360-361.
108 Phipps, n? 192, 30 April 1939, C6213/3356/18, PRO FO 371 23064; and Bonnet to Corbin,
n?s 752-6, 15 April 1939, MAE Papiers 1940, Cabinet Georges Bonnet/16, p. 169.
'09 Payart, n?s 326-9, 4 May 1939, MAE Papiers Naggiar/10; and Payart, n?s 351-6, 10 May
1939, DDF, 2e, XVI, pp. 265-266.
110 Payart, n?s 346-9, 9 May 1939, MAE Papiers Naggiar/10; Seeds, n? 87, 8 May 1939,
C6804/3356/18, PRO FO 371 23065; 'Memorandum of a conversation... [between Molotov and
Seeds]', 8 May 1939, SPE, II, pp. 25-26; and 'Record of a conversation... [between Molotov and
Payart]', 11 May 1939, God krizisa, I, pp. 449-451.
Il Churchill, The Gathering Storm, p. 365.
112 Ian Colvin, The Chamberlain Cabinet (London, 1971), p. 225; meeting of the Foreign Policy
Committee, Tuesday, 16 May 1939, C7401/3356/18, PRO FO 371 23066; and Vansittart to Halifax,
17 May 1939, C7169/3356/18, ibid.
113 'Notes prises au cours de l'entretien franco-britannique du 20 mai 1939...', AN Papiers
Daladier, 496AP/13; John Harvey ed. The Diplomatic Diaries of Oliver Harvey, 1937-1940 (London,
1970), pp. 286, 290, 290, 292; and Cowling, The Impact of Hitler. . ., p. 272.
114 ibid. 302; Aster, 1939, pp. 184-185; Dilks, The Diaries [Cadogan], 182; and Corbin, n? 409,
25 May 1939, DDF, 2e, XVI, pp. 562-566.
115 'Visite de Monsieur Souritz du 26 mai 1939. . .', MAE Papiers 1940, Cabinet Bonnet/16, pp.
266-268. N. B., the same note in the AN Papiers Daladier, 496AP/13 has a different, less negative
conclusion.
116 Maisky to Narkomindel, 3 May 1939 [the same date as Harvey's diary entry], SPE, II, pp.
11-13; 9 May 1939, ibid., p. 28.
117 Seeds, n? 87, 8 May 1939, C6804/3356/18, PRO FO 371 23065; Seeds, n? 93, 15 May 1939,
C7065/3356/18, PRO FO 371 23066; and Seeds, n? 148, 16 May 1939, C7328/3356/18, ibid.
118 Cadogan to Halifax, 23 May 1939, C7469/3356/18, ibid.; and Manchester, The Caged
Lion..., p. 471.
119 Molotov to Surits, 26 May 1939, SPE, II, p. 60; and Payart, n?s 400-05, 27 May 1939, MAE
Papiers Naggiar/10. Watt, How War Came, p. 247.
338
THE ANGLO-FRANCO-SOVIET ALLIANCE IN 1939
120 Cadogan to Halifax, 23 May 1939, C7469/3356/18, PRO FO 37123066; Maisky to Molotov,
10 May 1939, SPE, II, pp. 30-32; and Maisky to Narkomindel, 21 May 1939, ibid., pp. 52-53.
121 Memorandum, by Strang, 16 May 1939, C7206/3356/18, PRO FO 371 23066; and Phipps,
n? 307 saving, 18 May 1939, C7264/3356/18, ibid.
122 Phipps, n? 217, 1 June 1939, C7916/3356/18, PRO FO 371 23067; and Phipps, n? 344
saving, 7 June 1939, C8137/3356/18, ibid; and Phipps to Halifax, 22 June 1939, DBFP, 3rd, VI, pp.
150-151.
123 Bonnet to Naggiar, n?s 218-9, 14 June 1939, MAE Papiers Naggiar/9.
124 Comment from MAE internal note, Direction politique, 5 July 1939, MAE Papiers 1940,
Cabinet Bonnet/16, pp. 280-297.
125 'Draft agreement.. .', 2 June 1939, SPE, II, pp. 75-76.
126 Seeds, n? 161, 30 May 1939, C7937/3356/18, PRO FO 371 23067; and Seeds, n? 181, 20
June 1939, C8840/3356/18, PRO FO 371 23069.
127 'Mr. [W.N.] Ewer's [diplomatic correspondent, Daily Herald] account of his talk with
M. Maisky', nd (but 9 June 1939), C8701/3356/18, PRO FO 371 23068.
128 See Naggiar's handwritten notes on his n?s 481-3, 14 June 1939, MAE Papiers Naggiar/10;
and Naggiar, n?s 502-6, 16 June 1939, ibid.
129 Manchester, The Caged Lion. .., 471; and Surits to Narkomindel, 7 July 1939, SPE, II,
p. 128.
130 Payart, n?s 185-90, 17 March 1939, MAE Papiers Naggiar/10.
131 Roberts, The Unholy Alliance. . ., pp. 124-127, 145-149.
132 Naggiar's minute on Bonnet to Naggiar, n?s 333-8, 5 July 1939, MAE Papiers Naggiar/9; see
also Payart's earlier, n?s 383-8, 24 May 1939, ibid./10; Naggiar, n?s 442-5, 3 June 1939, DDF, 2e,
XVI, pp. 655-656; and Naggiar, n?s 543-9, 22 June 1939, ibid., pp. 951-952.
133 Naggiar, n?s 449-54, 6 June 1939, MAE Papiers Naggiar/10; and Seeds, n? 139, 23 June
1939, C8928/3356/18, PRO FO 371 23069.
134 Bonnet to Corbin, n? 1517, 19 July 1939, AN Papiers Daladier, 496AP/13; and Note by
Kirkpatrick, 21 July 1939, C10292/3356/18, PRO FO 371 23071.
135 Naggiar, n?s 455-9, 6 June 1939; n?s 463-70, 11 June 1939; and n?s 601-03, 2 July 1939,
MAE Papiers Naggiar/10; and Seeds to Sargent, personal letter, 3 August 1939, C11927/3356/18,
PRO FO 371 23073.
136 E.g., Naggiar, n? 484, 15 June 1939; n?s 580-6, 29 June 1939; n? 589, 1 July 1939; n?s
642-4, 7 July 1939, MAE Papiers Naggiar/10; and Bonnet to Naggiar, n?s 444-8, 15 July 1939,
ibid.19.
137 Naggiar, n?s 629-39, 5 July 1939; n?s 674-83, 11 July 1939; n?s 686-91, 13 July 1939; n?s
699-703, 15 July 1939; n? 707, 16 July 1939; n?s 723-37, 18 July 1939, ibid./10; and 'Note', by
Palasse, n? 599/S, 13 July 1939, SHAT 7N 3186. Watt mistakenly states that Paris was ill-served by
Naggiar who failed to appreciate the possibility of the Soviet Union opting for a German rapproche-
ment (How War Came, p. 611).
138 Naggiar's minutes on Bonnet's n?s 423-8, 430-6, 11 July 1939, ibid.19.
139
Naggiar, n?s 507-18, 17 June 1939, ibid./10; and Naggiar, n?s 534-7, 22 June 1939, DDF,
2e, XVI, pp. 938-939.
140 Naggiar, n?s 543-9, 22 June 1939, MAE Papiers Naggiar/10; Bonnet to Naggiar, n?s 252-9,
24 June 1939, ibid.19; and Corbin to Sargent, 11 July 1939, C9972/3356/18, PRO FO 371 23070.
14' Naggiar's minute on Bonnet, n? 505-11, 25 July 1939, MAE Papiers Naggiar/9.
142 Naggiar's minute on Bonnet, n? 548, 30 July 1939, ibid.
143 Meeting of the Committee on Foreign Policy, 19 July 1939, C10267/3356/18, PRO FO 371
23071.
144 Committee on Foreign Policy, 10 July 1939, C9761/3356/18, PRO FO 371 23070.
145 Colvin, The Chamberlain Cabinet..., p. 229.
146 Phipps, n? 929, 21 July 1939, C10410/90/17, PRO FO 371 22912.
147 Roberts, The Unholy Alliance. . ., pp. 148-151.
148 Committee on Foreign Policy, 10 July 1939, C9761/3356/18, PRO FO 371 23070; and
Admiral Sir Reginald Drax, 'Mission to Moscow, August 1939', p. 7, Churchill Archives Centre,
Cambridge, Drax Papers, 6/5.
149 Cabinet conclusions, 26 July 1939, C10629/3356/18, PRO FO 371 20371; Drax, 'Mission to
Moscow, August 1939', p. 6, Churchill Archives, Drax Papers, 6/5; and 'Rapport de mission a
Moscou', Capt. de corvette Williaume, August 1939, SHAT 7N 3185.
150 Committee on Foreign Policy, 1 August 1939, C10826/3356/18, PRO FO 371 23072.
151 'Extract from the minutes of a meeting of the Committee of Imperial Defence. . .', 2 August
1939, C10952/3356/18, ibid.
339
MICHAEL CARLEY
152 'Cabinet extract... Major General H. L. Ismay's conversations in Paris on 29 July 1939',
C10811/3356/18, ibid.
153 Gamelin to Doumenc, n? 1522/DN. 3, 27 July 1939, SHAT 7N 3186.
154 Doumenc, 'Souvenirs de la mission en Russie, aoft 1939', pp. 11-12, SHAT 7N 3185. Watt
and Duroselle quote or refer to this exchange (from excerpts in DDF), but they do not mention
Doumenc's important comment that he was leaving for Moscow empty-handed-'les mains vides'
(Watt, How War Came, p. 452; and Duroselle, La Decadence ..., p. 428).
155 Naggiar's minute on his cable, n?s 860-3, 12 August 1939, MAE Papiers Naggiar/10;
Doumenc, 'Souvenirs', 57, SHAT 7N 3185; and the little noted confirmation of Daladier's instruc-
tions in L. Noel, L'agression allemande contre la Pologne (Paris, 1946), p. 423. Naggiar's minute
sharply qualifies what is usually assumed to be French determination to conclude a Soviet alliance.
Daladier said in 1946 that Soviet insistence on Red Army passage came as an 'extraordinary'
surprise
to the French government, but the evidence demonstrates that it was not a surprise at all (Namier,
Diplomatic Prelude..., pp. 204-206; cf., Watt, How War Came, pp. 452-453).
156 Naggiar's retrospective minute on his cable n? 707, 16 July 1939, MAE Papiers Naggiar/10.
157 Naggiar, n?s 860-3, 12 August 1939, ibid.
158 Surits to Narkomindel, 3 August 1939, SPE, II, pp. 168-170.
159 Volkogonov, Staline, pp. 260-261.
160 Roberts, The Unholy Alliance ..., pp. 151-154.
161 Seeds, n?196, 12 August 1939, C11275/3356/18, PRO FO 371 23072; and Strang's minute,
14 August, ibid.
162 Halifax to Seeds, n? 209, 15 August 1939; Chatfield to Drax, n? 1, 15 August 1939, ibid.;
and Bonnet to Naggiar, n? 585, 15 August 1939, MAE Papiers Naggiar/9.
163 Seeds, military mission n? 1, 12 August 1939, C11276/3356/18, PRO FO 371 23072; and
Instructions, 15 August 1939, ibid. For Soviet military expectations, see 'Considerations of the Soviet
side for negotiations with the military missions of Great Britain and France', B. M. Shaposhnikov,
Soviet chief of staff, 4 August 1939, God krizisa, II, pp. 168-174.
164 'Record of the evening meeting of the military missions of the USSR, Britain and France',
13 August 1939, SPE, II, pp. 196-202.
165 'Record of the meeting of military missions of the USSR, Britain, and France', 14 August
1939, ibid., pp. 202-210; and Andre Beaufre, 1940: The Fall of France (London, 1967), pp. 109-13,
118. Beaufre's published account is taken word for word from Doumenc's 'Souvenirs', pp. 74-80,
90, and passim, SHAT 7N 3185.
166 Doumenc, 'Souvenirs', 76, SHAT 7N 3185; Naggiar, n?s 869-72, 14 August 1939, MAE
Papiers Naggiar/10; and Seeds, mission n? 3, 14 August 1939, C11323/3356/18, PRO FO 371 23072.
167 'Committee on Imperial Defence, Deputy chiefs of staff sub-committee', meeting of 16
August 1939, C11506/3356/18, ibid.
168
Naggiar's minute on Bonnet to Naggiar, n? 601, 18 August 1939, MAE Papiers Naggiar/9.
169 Quoting an un-named Polish foreign ministry official, C. J. Norton, British charge d'affaires
in Warsaw, n? 205, 21 July 1939, C10460/3356/18, PRO FO 371 23071.
170 'Conversation du Ministre des Affaires etrangeres avec M. Lukachievicz', Bonnet, 15 August
1939, AN Papiers Daladier, 496/AP/13.
171 Doumenc, 'Souvenirs', 96-7, SHAT 7N 3185.
172 Colson to Doumenc, n? 2388-EMA/2-SAE, 15 August 1939, SHAT 7N 3186; Naggiar, n?s
873-4, 15 August 1939, MAE Papiers Naggiar/10; Noel to Naggiar, n?s 5-15, 18 August 1939,
ibid./9; and Charles-Jean Tripier, French minister in Riga, 20 August 1939, ibid; and Drax to Lord
Chatfield, minister for the coordination of defence, 16/17 August 1939, C12064/3356/18, PRO FO
371 23073.
173 Kennard, n? 279, 19 August 1939, C11585/3356/18, PRO FO 371 23073; and Roger
Cambon, French charge d'affaires in London, n? 2642, 21 August 1939, AN Papiers Daladier
496AP/13.
174 Kennard, n? 282, 21 August, 1939, C11701/3356/18, PRO FO 371 23073.
175 Bonnet to Naggiar, n? 615, 21 August 1939, MAE Papiers Naggiar/9; and Seeds,
mission n? 9, 22 August 1939, and Strang's minute of the same day, Cl
11729/3356/18, PRO FO 371
23073.
176 Roberts, The Unholy Alliance.. ., pp. 154-155; Volkogonov, Staline, pp. 262-267; V. Ya.
Sipols, 'A Few Months before August 23, 1939', International Affairs, May 1989, pp. 124-136; and
Note by Schnurre, 19 August 1939, Documents on German Foreign Policy, series D, 13 vols
(London, 1948ff.), VII, pp. 132-133.
177
'Memorandum of a conversation between the head of the Soviet military mission and the
head of the French military mission', 22 August 1939, SPE, II pp. 261-265.
340
THE ANGLO-FRANCO-SOVIET ALLIANCE IN 1939 341
178 Naggiar's minute on Noel to Naggiar, n? 21, 23 August 1939, MAE Papiers Naggiar/9.
179 Seeds, n? 211, 22 August 1939, C11740/3356/18, PRO FO 371 23073.
180 Naggiar's minute on his telegram reporting Seeds' meeting with Molotov, n?s 941-3, 23
August 1939, MAE Papiers Naggiar/10.
181 Hervd Alphand, L'etonnement d'etre (Paris 1977), p. 20.
182 Campbell (Paris), n? 543 saving, 23 August 1939, Cl1815/3356/18, PRO FO 371 23073.
183 Naggiar's minute on Bonnet to Naggiar, n?s 627-30, 23 August 1939, MAE Papiers
Naggiar/9.
184 Volkogonov, Staline, pp. 267-269; cf., Namier, Diplomatic Prelude, p. 204. See also M.I.
Semiryaga's comments in 'Kruglyi stol', Voprosy Istorii, pp. 20-24.
185
W. Strang, Home and Abroad (London, 1956), p. 159.
186 Watt, How War Came, pp. 120, 216-219; and Roberts, The Unholy Alliance..., pp.
224-226.
187 Taylor, The Origins..., p. 277; Manchester, The Caged Lion..., p. 411; cf., Uldricks,
'Taylor and the Russians. . .' pp. 170-174.
188 Alphand, L'etonnement..., p. 20.
189
Jean Chauvel, Commentaire, 3 vols. (Paris, 1971), I, p. 59.
'90 Untitled note by I. Kirkpatrick
and minutes, 27 September 1939, C16202/3356/18, PRO FO
371 23074.
191
F. L. Schuman, The Cold War: Retrospect and Prospect (Baton Rouge, LA, 1967),
pp. 78, 82.
Book
Build on early and initial stages of the book's development. Updated throughout on a weekly basis. In addition to cognitive purposes, the build provides a testing ground to evaluate the feasibility of combining a markup languages, and selected programming languages, including but not limited to: Python, Lua, Julia and Rust, in a single work. The book is an attempt to show how resource rarity affects the ability to execute tasks under wartime conditions. Great emphasis will be placed on showing the concept of modern defense against weapons of mass destruction, in the context of resource rarity of the Armed Forces - to put it simply, how not to waste resources on it. However, this is the song of the future...
Article
Artykuł przynosi próbę reinterpretacji paktu Ribbentrop-Mołotow, komentując obfitą historiografię poświęconą temu przełomowemu wydarzeniu w stosunkach międzynarodowych XX w. Autor dyskutuje różne podejścia do wyjaśnienia jego genezy i znaczenia. Daje też własną interpretację tego taktycznego aliansu dwóch totalitarnych dyktatur.
Article
From Petsamo to Narvik: Péripheral Operations in Northern Europe, December 1939 - April 1940 Following the Soviet attack in November 1939 on neutral Finland, the French Government decided to intervene in Northern Europe. While this intervention was wrapped in the rhetoric of aid to Finland, more concrete factors were at stake, most notably the opening in Northern Sweden and Norway of a new front against Germany. Altogether, the decision was a sharp break in French policy since the 1920s toward Scandinavia and the Baltic Sea region. This article examines how this policy mixed long-term concerns into the context of the “Phoney War” in France and the role of the Scandinavians themselves. This decision would end up by involving France in Northern Europe, with consequences seen in the resignation of Daladier and the military operations in Norway in May-June 1940.
Book
The era of the two World Wars persists in informing the contemporary policymaking imagination, providing powerful tropes and guideposts for thought. In Europe and North America, the Second World War (WWII) is portrayed as the "good" war, fought to defend civilization from barbarism and catastrophe. Its events, symbols, and personalities are invoked repeatedly in public and governmental discourses. If the Thirty Years' Crisis of the two world wars is a defining experience in the evolution of 20th-century world politics, its influence in the social sciences is nowhere greater than on the field of international relations (IR). The study of IR originates within and was a response to an epoch of generalized crisis and global conflagration, representing the paradigmatic moment in the discipline's formation and subsequent trajectory (Halliday 1989; Long 1995; Brian C. Schmidt 1998).
Chapter
Russia’s involvement in the Czechoslovakian crisis of 1938 stemmed from two sources. Firstly, the USSR’s commitment to collective resistance against Nazi aggression and expansionism — a policy which Litvinov had affirmed time and time again in public statements in 1936–7.l Secondly, there was the Soviet-Czechoslovak mutual assistance treaty of 1935 under which the Soviet Union pledged military aid to Czechoslovakia in the event of an attack on that country by a third party. Soviet assistance was, however, conditional upon France, which also had a mutual assistance treaty with Czechoslovakia, simultaneously fulfilling its aid obligations — a clause inserted in the Soviet-Czechoslovak treaty of 1935 at the suggestion of Benes/ , the Czech President.2
Chapter
For more than 30 years historical debate on the outbreak of the Second World War has centred on one book: A. J. P. Taylor’s The Origins of the Second World War.1 In the various controversies generated by the Originsattention has focused mainly on Taylor’s depiction of Hitler as a tactical improviser in foreign policy rather than a fanatical ideologist bent on war, and on his sympathetic treatment of British and French appeasement of Germany.2 Generally ignored in these debates is Taylor’s authorship of an equally controversial and contentious interpretation of the Soviet role in the origins of the Second World War.3
Book
Between 1939 and 1941 Britain had a terrible dilemma. She was keen to see Turkey, Bulgaria, Greece, Romania and Yugoslavia join the Allies against Nazi Germany. But the 1939 Molotov Ribbentrop Pact had changed everything: the Balkan countries were far more afraid of Stalin than of Hitler. Britain and France were also concerned about the Soviets giving so much oil to Germany: in 1940 Britain almost went to war with the USSR in an attack on the Caucasus. This book looks at how Britain tried to solve these dilemmas and ultimately failed to do so.
Chapter
This chapter deals with the membership of the Politburo/Presidium and is based on earlier research on a larger elite, the Central Committee of the Soviet Communist Party.1 Great power was accorded the Central Committee in the various party Rules, and the operational role of the Central Committee’s administration (apparat) was great. Despite this, the Central Committee was arguably significant, not so much because it was an actual centre of policy making (as opposed to policy-approval), but because its members were a cross-section of the senior Soviet leadership, notably in the central and regional party administration, in the central people’s commissariats (after 1946, ministries), and in the army high command.
Chapter
After 1917, the traditional foundations of Russian foreign policy: the quest for security, great power ambitions and the everyday need to conduct relationships with other states, were joined by new ideological factors: the Bolshevik commitment to spread communism and implacable hostility to the capitalist world. These ideological factors were dominant in foreign policy during the early years of the Soviet regime, with unsuccessful attempts to spread world revolution in Germany, Hungary and Poland between 1917 and 1921. They were sponsored particularly by the activities of the Communist International (Comintern), founded in Moscow in March 1919 with the aim of promoting the development of foreign communist parties and supporting trade unions in capitalist countries.
Book
In his book, Mr Cowling describes the relationship between British party politics and the conduct of British foreign policy between Hitler's arrival in office in 1933 and Chamberlain's resignation in May 1940. He sets British policy in the context of European, Imperial, League, national and isolational sentiments and takes account of the strategic and financial limitations within which decisions were made. He shows how far prime ministers, foreign secretaries and the cabinet responded to parliamentary criticism, and argues that, from mid–1936 onwards, foreign policy and the prospects of the party system were so intimately connected that neither can be understood in isolation from the other.
Book
This book offers a revisionist interpretation of British foreign policy towards Poland and the role of the Anglo-Polish relationship during the period March-September 1939. It challenges and questions hitherto held views on the British determination to defend Poland and oppose German expansion eastwards. It includes a study of foreign policy, economic policy and military planning. This book is a major contribution to our knowledge of the outbreak of the war because it contains a unique and original study of the role of the Poles in British proposals for an eastern front and the Polish perception of their relationship with Germany. Finally the inconclusive nature of British approaches to the Soviet Union and the Rumanian government are put into the context of the abortive proposal for an eastern front against Germany.