Stalin told the following story: “We would make dinner for ourselves.… The main thing we did in the way of earning a livelihood was to fish for white salmon. That didn’t take any great skill. We also went hunting. I had a dog and called him Yashka. Of course for Sverdlov that wasn’t pleasant; he was Yashka and the dog was Yashka, and so then Sverdlov used to wash the dishes and spoons after dinner, but I never did. I would eat and put the dishes on the dirt floor and the dog would lick everything clean. But that fellow had a passion for cleanliness.”56
These differences over hygiene were bound to provoke discord, but there may have been other sources of conflict. The animosity that developed between Sverdlov and Stalin was so strong that they not only moved into separate houses, but also broke off contact altogether. Sverdlov wrote to his wife some time later: “After all, you know, dear one, what abominable conditions I endured in Kureika. On a personal level, the comrade I lived with there turned out to be the sort that we did not talk to one another or get together.”57
Soon after his falling out with Sverdlov, Stalin moved into the home of the Pereprygin family—five brothers and two sisters, all orphans. Stalin, who was thirty-five, entered into an intimate relationship with the fourteen-year-old Lidiia Pereprygina. This apparently provoked an argument between Stalin and the man in charge of guarding him, which escalated into a fistfight. The local police took Stalin’s side. One circumstance that may have worked in Stalin’s favor was that the police chief in Turukhansky Krai was I. I. Kibirov, an ethnic Ossetian who, like Stalin, was from Georgia. It is possible that Stalin and Kibirov came to an agreement that he would be given a degree of liberty in exchange for a promise that he would not attempt to flee. Stalin not only was not charged for his transgression with a minor, but he was also given a new guard, M. A. Merzliakov, who treated him exceptionally well.58 In 1930, when he was persecuted under the Soviet regime for having served in the tsarist police, Merzliakov turned to Stalin for help. “I am asking Com. Stalin,” he wrote, “to inform our village soviet that I truly did have a friendly relationship with you while serving in Turukhansky and did not act against you.” Stalin responded with a glowing recommendation: “Mikh. Merzliakov had a formal attitude toward his police duties, without the usual police zeal; he did not spy on me, did not badger me, did not pick on me, and turned a blind eye to my frequent absences.”59
Taking advantage of this obliging attitude, Stalin managed to arrange a relatively pleasant life for himself, to the extent such a thing is possible in the Arctic. He continued to live with Lidiia Pereprygina. There were rumors—though muddled and contradictory—that the two had a child together.60 Stalin devoted his copious free time to fishing, hunting, visiting fellow exiles in neighboring settlements, receiving guests, and taking part in local merrymaking. His financial situation stabilized enough to support his modest lifestyle. Most important is that his health improved. “I’m living as before. I feel fine. I’m completely healthy—I must have gotten used to the nature around here. And nature here is harsh: three weeks ago the temperature went to 45 below,” he cheerfully reported in a letter written in late 1915.61
This unusual period in Stalin’s life reveals some interesting aspects of his character. He was completely unfazed by the absence of creature comforts in this harsh environment. In Kureika, with a total of eight houses and sixty-seven residents, he seems to have suffered an utter absence of suitable conversation partners. Yet he endured this lack of intellectual stimulation with equanimity. Apparently he was perfectly capable of living without the revolution and felt no need to exercise his intellect. His opponents have long accused him of wasting the time spent in Turukhansky Krai. Trotsky, for example, wrote that “Any attempt to find traces of his spiritual life during this period of solitude and leisure would be in vain.”62 Indeed, Stalin’s collected works feature not a single article written between early 1913 and early 1917.
Stalin’s correspondence from this period, however, paints a more complicated picture. During the first year of exile, either because he still hoped to escape or simply out of habit, he did try to work. He wrote a new article on nationalities problems and sent them to a journal. He asked his comrades to send him books, journals, and newspapers. In subsequent years as well, his correspondence from exile contained references to work on articles and his need for new books.63 But his enthusiasm was waning. In 1914, Malinovsky was exposed as a double agent. This was a crushing blow to the entire Bolshevik party, but for Stalin, who was friendly with Malinovsky and had turned to him for help, the revelation was especially painful. And there were other discouraging developments. An article that Stalin submitted to a journal was not published, his comrades failed to send him new journal issues, and he lacked the money for subscriptions. In November 1915, after two years in Turukhansky Krai, he explained his situation in a rare letter to Lenin: “My life is not great. I’m hardly doing anything. And what is there to do when you have no or almost no serious books? … I have lots of questions and topics in my head, but as for material—nothing. I’m itching to do something, but there’s nothing to do.”64 Stalin’s communication with the party leadership in emigration gradually dropped off, and he occasionally complained in letters that they had forgotten him. Indeed, Lenin’s requests in 1915 to be reminded of Stalin’s last name became well known: “Do you remember Koba’s last name?”; “I have a big favor: find out … ‘Koba’s’ last name (Iosef J…?? We’ve forgotten).”65
Stalin’s situation reflected the general state of affairs in the Bolshevik party. Its leadership was languishing either in forced internal exile or self-imposed exile abroad. Periods of hope, dreams, and failed attempts to activate the movement alternated with quarrels, both internally and with opponents from other parties. On both the personal and political front, the future looked gloomy for the revolutionaries. How thirty-eight-year-old Stalin imagined his future at this point is hard to know. Perhaps he tried not to think about it.
THE BULWARKS OF STALIN’S POWER
The day and evening of 1 March 1953 at the near dacha. Consternation among the bodyguards.
After his guests departed in the early morning hours of 1 March, Stalin most likely went to bed. He may not have felt well.1 He was aged and sickly. He remained in his rooms and did not, as he usually did, summon any guards or servants toward suppertime. As of early 1952, Stalin’s apartment and dacha were protected by a staff of 335 security personnel.2 Another 73 attended to his non-security needs. All told, 408 people, working in shifts at various sites, were devoted to taking care of Stalin. Stalin spent a significant portion of his time in these people’s company. They walked behind him, stood guard under his windows, cooked, cleaned, and, if needed, entertained him. At the near dacha, a long corridor separated the staff quarters from the part of the house where Stalin lived. His rooms were equipped with buttons to summon staff members.
The deviation from Stalin’s routine on 1 March alarmed his security team. The guards reported to their superiors that there was no “movement” within the leader’s residence. Evening approached with no signs of life. The sense of alarm escalated, but if they were not summoned, nobody wanted to check on the boss. Finally, sometime after six o’clock, the guards were relieved to see a light turn on in Stalin’s rooms. Everyone prepared for a call. None came. Anxiety again began to mount. The guards argued over who should go check on Stalin. Nobody volunteered.