National Review, July 23, 2001 v53
i14 pNA
Experiment in Terror. Review by David Pryce-Jones.
COPYRIGHT 2001 National Review, Inc.
Spain Betrayed: The Soviet Union in the Spanish Civil War, edited by
Ronald Radosh, Mary R. Habeck, and Grigory Sevostianov (Yale, 537 pp.,
$35)
To contemporaries, the Spanish Civil War seemed an epic, even biblical,
struggle between Communism and Fascism, in other words between good and
evil. And to most contemporaries, the outcome was appalling: The Fascist
victory meant that there was no chance to put Communism into practice in
western Europe, and no chance either to stop Hitler in his tracks.
Communists and their supporters have argued ever since that they alone
made any serious attempt to head off the coming world war. Whatever bad
things Communists may have done elsewhere, in Spain their cause was pure
to the point of being romantic. As a result of a good many histories and
memoirs, that remains today the generally accepted opinion.
Spain Betrayed is a formidable demolition of this myth. It consists of
a collection of 81 previously unpublished documents from the Russian State
Military Archives, all of them reports from Soviet agents and advisers in
the field during the civil war. The material is specialized, to be sure,
an account of day-to-day political and military events, sometimes in the
most minute detail, but the editors place everything in context with brief
and helpful introductory commentaries. One of them, Ronald Radosh, is a
former Communist whose uncle fought in Spain. In recent writings,
including an autobiography, Radosh has been coming to terms with his
previous disastrous misjudgments, and this book is another step in that
process. The two other editors are academics: Mary R. Habeck of Yale and
Grigory Sevostianov of Moscow's Institute of Universal History.
One way or another, these documents all went through the Comintern, the
bureau in Moscow that ran Soviet operations abroad for Stalin. The
Comintern could call on the services of its own operatives; the secret
police, later called the KGB; military intelligence or the GRU; and the
European Communist parties. Taken together, these documents show that
Stalin aimed to transform Spain into a Soviet satellite. In that case, he
would have extended the Communist reach, and encircled both Germany and
France.
Poor and backward, Spain in the early 20th century was a failed
monarchy with a history of coups and ineffective parliamentary regimes. In
the Thirties, the conservative Right faced a strangely assorted Left of
Communists, socialists, and anarchists, generally categorized as
Republicans, unable to agree among themselves but each promoting with
rising intolerance their particular brand of revolution. Spain was the
only country in the world with a mass movement of anarchists-the disciples
of Bakunin, Marx's bitter enemy. Improbable as it was, the Left formed a
coalition under Francisco Largo Caballero, a veteran socialist trade-union
leader known as the Spanish Lenin. Early in 1936, the Popular Front came
to power legitimately through elections. That summer, the murder of the
conservative leader Jose Calvo Sotelo coincided with a military uprising
of self-styled Nationalists under Francisco Franco, an obscure general in
command of Spanish and Moroccan troops, the latter particularly ferocious.
Atrocities committed by both sides inflamed passions to the point that
there could be no compromise.
Reluctant to support either side, Britain and France did not intervene.
This decision was right, but taken for the wrong reasons, as part of the
wider policy of appeasing dictators that was already creating a political
vacuum in Europe. Aware of their own weaknesses, both sides in Spain
appealed to the dictators for help: the Republicans to Stalin, the
Nationalists to Hitler and Mussolini. Responding favorably, the dictators
were each probing in the political vacuum for influence and power. The
civil war therefore assumed the international character of a struggle
between rival ideologies.
The mustering of forces brought to a head the collective delusion of so
many intellectuals of the Thirties, among whom Communism had taken hold
with the fervor of messianic religion. All manner of celebrities,
Nobel-prize scientists and writers and philosophers, united in praise of
Stalin and his Soviet Union. Well-intentioned people were naturally prone
to believe that so many prominent thinkers and artists must be right, and
that Communism represented progress. Intellectuals flocked to Spain to
usher in salvation by means of ecstatic eyewitness accounts and reports,
news bulletins, novels, and films. The humbler sort drove ambulances and
served as nurses. Some 50,000 men from a score of countries volunteered to
fight in the International Brigade. Here was nothing less than a crusade.
Revolution, and its images of waving flags and disheveled men
brandishing weapons in the back of trucks, seemed to radiate invisible
powers. The battles of Madrid and Brunete and Teruel, the fall of Malaga,
appeared as stations of a via dolorosa. Legendary icons included Picasso's
Guernica, the century's most celebrated painting, and Robert Capa's
photograph (the authenticity of which has been called seriously into
question) of a soldier in the very moment of falling for the cause, arms
extended as in crucifixion.
One of the most furious and effective pamphlets ever published was
"Authors Take Sides on the Spanish War," in which 127 leading
intellectuals declared themselves pro-Communist. Sixteen were neutral
(including T. S. Eliot, Ezra Pound, and H. G. Wells), while only five
dissented (one of them Evelyn Waugh). In one of the century's most
celebrated poems, W. H. Auden wrote, "Yesterday the Sabbath of
witches; but today the struggle." In another stanza of that poem, the
line, "The conscious acceptance of guilt in the necessary
murder," perfectly illustrates the moral sink into which delusion
about Communism could lead an otherwise gifted man. George Orwell was to
retort that it could only have been written by someone who was elsewhere
when the trigger was pulled.
By 1936, in somber fact, Stalin was presiding over a campaign of mass
murder. Hitler was evidently another dangerous and ambitious criminal. The
supposition that Communism alone could successfully confront Nazism was
central to the simplification of the Spanish Civil War as an apocalyptic
struggle between good and evil. But the equation was false. Far from being
at opposite poles of the political spectrum, the dictators were two of a
kind, equal in inhumanity.
Professional historians by and large used to maintain that Stalin was
sincerely anti-Fascist, but cautiously engaged in a balancing act, sending
enough aid to the Popular Front to ensure that it would not lose, but not
so much that it would win and thereby provoke Hitler into an all-out
confrontation. Destroying this benign theory, recent historians have shown
that, all the while, Stalin was secretly sounding out Hitler, with a view
to agreeing on spheres of influence between them, as was shortly achieved
in the Nazi-Soviet pact of 1939. It has further emerged that Stalin took
the Spanish government's gold reserve for safekeeping, but helped himself
to it in payment for the arms he supplied. By imposing an exchange value
more than twice the official rate, he swindled his supposed allies and
clients out of hundreds of millions of dollars.
The Comintern at first employed an Argentinian Communist named Vittorio
Codovilla as its leading representative in Spain. In mid 1937, he was
replaced by Palmiro Togliatti, the Italian Communist Party secretary,
whose reports are particularly subtle. Another Comintern representative
with special responsibility for the International Brigade was the
Frenchman Andre Marty, known as "the butcher of Albacete" and
commemorated by Hemingway in For Whom the Bell Tolls for his
indiscriminate use of terror against friend and foe alike. Also reporting
to the Comintern was a range of Soviet ambassadors and consuls,
commissars, and military experts, all of whom had to operate within the
context of Stalin's Great Terror. Many were recalled to Moscow and
summarily shot.
One of the most fascinating documents in the collection is a report
dated December 1937. It is over seventy pages long and written by Manfred
Stern, a capable and loyal brigade commander who was well known by the
pseudonym General Emilio Kleber. Indeed, he was idolized. Stern/Kleber
depicts uninterrupted bickering, intrigues, and jealousies among his
Soviet colleagues, the Spanish Communist forces, and the International
Brigades, which doomed their performance in the field. Trying to justify
himself in elaborate and sometimes fictitious detail, he was in fact
pleading for his life. Shortly denounced by one of his seniors as an enemy
of the people, Stern too then vanished.
These men were for the most part highly qualified, and some had real
political talents. They seem to have understood quite early on that the
Communists were unlikely to win, but they had to dress up such a message
to Stalin in guarded and suitably Marxist language. To eavesdrop now on
their private traffic is to be overwhelmed by the servility with which
they presented or twisted the facts so that Stalin would learn what he
wanted to learn, and by the incredible discrepancy between what Stalin was
actually doing and what the pro-Communist crusaders imagined.
Stalin soon realized that Largo Caballero was no Spanish Lenin. A
stubborn and obstructive man, Caballero would have to go. It was bad
enough that he proved an ineffective war leader, but worse that he could
not control the anarchists. Their objective was revolution, which they
held to be the indispensable condition for winning the war. But anarchist
revolution risked openly embroiling Stalin with Hitler. Stalin needed a
pretext to suppress them, and in documents included here dating from the
first part of 1937, his advisers duly furnished one. To be a Trotskyite,
as Trotsky and Stalin's other rivals had already learned, was a guaranteed
death sentence. The advisers trumped up the absurd charge that anarchists
and Trotskyites were one and the same.
These documents also show how deftly Comintern agents manipulated Largo
Caballero out of office in May 1937, to replace him with Juan Negrin, a
dim professor of physiology, and an outright Stalinist stooge. The most
horrible sequence of events in the civil war could then occur, starting
that very May in Barcelona, where the Communists turned on the anarchists
and bloodily suppressed them. The Communists have always blamed the
anarchists for this, but the documents of that month, above all Document
44, a report from the front by an agent named Goratsy states that the
Communists "had terrible hatred towards the anarchists- greater than
towards the fascists" and favored "a final reckoning" with
them. The editors give this document great importance.
The anarchist leader Andres Nin was murdered, and the crime made to
look like the deed of German agents. Andre Marty kept the firing squads
busy and members of the International Brigade were among his victims.
George Orwell had served in the front line with anarchists, where he
received a Nationalist bullet through the throat. Recuperating in
Barcelona, he escaped the Communist massacre by sheer luck, and in Homage
to Catalonia he described how Communism had here shown itself the same in
practice as Nazism. As a result, he almost failed to find a publisher, and
in literary circles became an unperson-a word he invented for any free
spirit who told the truth. After the Barcelona bloodshed, Negrin and the
Soviets ran a police state along KGB lines, complete with denunciation,
torture, and more bullets in the neck for all who stepped out of line.
Betraying the Left and putting down the anarchists, Stalin frustrated
revolution in Spain. In that paradoxical sense, the Communists had a
conservative effect. No less paradoxical, Franco's victory may well have
saved Britain in 1940. After the fall of France, Hitler planned to send
troops to seize Gibraltar and the Mediterranean. Denied Middle Eastern
oil, Britain could not have held out. As it was, Franco refused to grant
passage to the German army, and Hitler could do nothing about it. But he
need have had no scruples about launching a blitzkrieg against a Communist
Spain, especially at a time when he had tied Stalin's hands with a pact.
For the Soviets, Spain was a laboratory in which to experiment with the
imperialism they were later to refine in eastern Europe, and afterwards as
far afield as Chile, Nicaragua, and Ethiopia. In terms of strategy, they
learned that the presence of the Red Army was the decisive factor in
taking over countries against their will. In terms of tactics, they
learned to exile or kill opponents rapidly, and then to co-opt into a
temporary coalition leftists of the stamp of Negrin, pliable or corrupt
nonentities who afforded a facade of democratic legitimacy. Spain was the
prototype for a "people's democracy," as installed in satellites
throughout the post-1945 Soviet empire.
Franco remained a political pariah to the end of his life. His regime,
unpleasant but rather mild by the standard of authoritarian regimes, was
considered on a par with Hitler's. Happy to visit Moscow, liberals made a
point of boycotting Spain. Perpetuating the myth of Communism derived from
the Spanish Civil War, they extended it to other countries and other
times. Whenever Soviet or local Communists took over somewhere new, there
were invariably throngs of intellectuals to approve, continuing to assert
that assault and murder were actually progressive. Flattered by the
abiding vision of themselves as salvationist crusaders, these people were
their own willing dupes, and the status of intellectuals as a whole has
still not recovered. The phenomenon is hallucinating.
Spain Betrayed adds greatly to the body of knowledge about contemporary
history. Its information will penetrate slowly but surely, straightening
the record and helping to restore respect for intellect and truth. It
ought to be impossible for anyone again to argue that Communism in Spain
was a noble cause, but that may be too much to expect. |