Stalin’s letter had deemed Tukhachevsky a victim of “faddish ‘leftism,’” but in Mężyński’s September 10, 1930, letter, he was accused of harboring “rightist” sentiments as the head of a military plot. Collectivization had provoked hints of wavering in the Red Army (something Voroshilov denied), and Stalin was preternaturally given to seeing an ideological affinity between the party right deviation and the tsarist-era officers. Police informants who suffused the military milieu reported gossip, on the basis of which the OGPU had arrested two military academy teachers close to Tukhachevsky.268 At first their “testimony” was vague, involving his Gypsy lover (who might be working for foreign intelligence), but under police direction they began to “recollect” Tukhachevsky’s possible links to “right deviationists,” until soon enough they spoke of a monarchist-military plot to seize power.269 “I reported this case to comrade Molotov and asked for authorization, while awaiting your directives,” Mężyński wrote in his letter to Stalin, asking whether he should immediately arrest all the top military men named or await Stalin’s return, which, given the alleged existence of a coup plot, could be risky. Stalin instructed Mężyński to “limit yourself to maximally careful surveillance.”270
Had Stalin believed in the existence of a genuine military plot, could he have suggested waiting to arrest the plotters and remained on holiday, far from the capital, for another month? It is impossible to establish his thinking definitively. Still, it appears that for him the “coup plot” derived not from facts per se, but from Marxist-Leninist logic: criticism of collectivization ipso facto meant support for capitalism; support for capitalism meant colluding with the imperialists; furthering the cause of imperialism meant effectively plotting to overthrow the Soviet regime; plotting an overthrow perforce entailed assassinating Stalin, since he embodied the building of socialism.
Elections in Germany on September 14, 1930, meanwhile, delivered a sensation: the National Socialists received 6.37 million votes, 18.25 percent of the total, and increased their parliamentary deputies from 12 to 107, becoming the second-largest party in the Reichstag, after the Social Democrats, at 143. Communist deputies increased from 54 to 77. Pravda (September 16) deemed the vote a “temporary success of the bourgeoisie,” even while noting that millions of those who had voted for the Nazis had rejected the existing order.
Stalin at this time seems to have been more fixated on his nemesis Rykov, complaining to Molotov (September 13) that “the Council of People’s Commissars is paralyzed by Rykov’s insipid and essentially anti-party speeches. . . . Clearly, this cannot continue. Radical measures are needed. As to what kind, I shall tell you when I get to Moscow.” But Stalin could not wait, writing again from Sochi, “Rykov and his lot must go as well. This is now inevitable. . . . But for the time being, this is just between you and me.” By September 22, Stalin was urging Molotov to take Rykov’s place as head of government. “With the arrangement I am proposing to you,” Stalin noted, “we will finally have a perfect union between the top levels of the state and the party, and this will reinforce our power.” Stalin instructed Molotov to discuss the idea “in a tight circle with close friends” and report any objections. He appears to have written the same to Kaganovich.271 Stalin also showed deep frustration over circumvention of central directives, despite newspaper exposés. In the same letter, he proposed “a standing commission established for the sole purpose of systematically checking up on implementation of the center’s decisions.”272
From reports of eavesdropped conversations, Stalin could read that the populace was unhappy with the consequences of wholesale collectivization, dekulakization, and accelerated industrialization—which was why Rykov was especially dangerous: he was a leader who could rally the disaffected and the opportunistic. It was not Rykov alone, moreover: at a politburo meeting on September 16, 1930, the Stalin protégé Syrtsov, head of the Russian republic’s Council of People’s Commissars, had agreed with Rykov, head of the USSR Council of People’s Commissars, regarding an accumulation of problems not being addressed, and supported Rykov’s proposals to sell scarce goods, such as sugar, at market prices to stabilize state finances.273 Molotov told the dictator that at the politburo meeting, Syrtsov had spoken “with frantic right-wing opportunist claims that it is not possible to solve acute economic problems with repressive ‘OGPU’ methods.”274 Despite Stalin’s impatience, the removal of Rykov—an ethnic Russian with a peasant background, who had worked with Lenin, occupied Lenin’s former position, and refused to embrace the role of opposition—would be no simple matter.275
Stalin forwarded the OGPU interrogation protocols incriminating Tukhachevsky to Orjonikidze on September 24. “Read without delay the testimony,” he suggested. “The material, as you see, is utterly secret, and Molotov, myself, and now you are the only ones to know about it. I do not know if Klim knows. It turned out that Tukhachevsky is a captive of anti-Soviet elements and was thoroughly worked over by anti-Soviet elements from the ranks of the rightists. . . . Is it possible? Of course, it is possible, since it is not excluded. . . . It seems the rightists are prepared to embark on the path of military dictatorship if only to escape from the Central Committee, collective and state farms, Bolshevik tempos of industrialization.” Here, again, was that objective “logic” of conspiracy. And yet, Stalin concluded the letter ambiguously: “We cannot end this affair in the usual way (immediate arrest and so on). We need to think this through.”276
On October 2, 1930, Mężyński sent Stalin interrogation materials relating to a clandestine Industrial Party. “To the OGPU, comrade Mężyński. In person only. From Stalin,” the dictator wrote back, specifying the exact content of the conspiracies and demanding corroborating testimony, which, if extracted, “will be a serious victory for the OGPU.” Stalin either believed or made it appear that he believed in the fabrications, instructing Mężyński’s interrogators to ascertain: “1) Why was the [foreign military] intervention in 1930 put off? 2) Is it because Poland was not ready? 3) Perhaps because Romania was not ready? 4) Perhaps because the Baltic states and Romania have not yet come to terms with Poland? 5) Why have they put off the attack to 1931? 6) Might they put it off to 1932?” Stalin added that the confessions would be made available to “the workers of the world. We shall launch as broad a campaign as possible against interventionists and thwart them in their attempts for the next one or two years, which is of great significance to us. Everything understood?”277
RUN THE GOVERNMENT?
Nadya had already returned to Moscow in August. “How was your travel?” Stalin had written with tenderness (September 2, 1930). “Write about everything, my Tatochka. I’m getting a little better. Your Iosif.” Writing again, he asked her to send his textbook for English.278 On September 8, he had written her about his difficult dental work. He sent peaches and lemons from his Sochi orchard. But something was amiss. “The Molotovs scolded me for leaving you alone,” she answered him (September 19). “I explained my departure by reference to my studies, but that of course was not the real reason. This summer I did not feel that you would like me if I prolonged my stay; quite the contrary. Last summer I felt very much that you would, but this time I did not. Of course, there was no point in staying in such a mood. Write, if my letter does not make you cross, but as you like. All the best. A Kiss. Nadya.” Stalin (September 24) denied that her presence had been undesirable (“Tell the Molotovs from me that they are wrong”) and assured her that, despite having had eight teeth filed down in a single day, “I am healthy and feel better than ever.” On September 30, she wrote that she had required an operation on her throat and had been bedridden for days. On October 6, she complained that “for some reason I am not hearing anything from you. . . . Probably you are distracted by your quail-hunting trips. . . . I heard from a young, interesting lady that you are looking fantastic—she saw you at lunch at Kalinin’s. She said that you were exceptionally jolly and gave no rest to everyone taken aback by your personage. I am glad to hear it.”279