prevention of sleep and constant interrogation that they called the “conveyor belt.” The Cheka had long had a cult of torture: indeed Leonid Zakovsky, one of Yagoda’s men, had written a guide to torture.
Frequently, the Politburo, such as Molotov and Mikoyan, would go over to interrogate their comrades in Yezhov’s grand office at the Lubianka: “Rudzutak had been badly beaten and tortured,” said Molotov about one such session. “It was necessary to act mercilessly.” Kaganovich thought “it was very difficult
Stalin and his magnates often laughed about the NKVD’s ability to get people to confess. Stalin told this joke to someone who had actually been tortured: “They arrested a boy and accused him of writing
Yezhov himself devised the system of execution. Instead of using the cellars of the Lubianka or the other prisons, as his predecessors had done, he created a special abattoir. Slightly behind and to the left of Lubianka, he used another NKVD building on Varsonofyevsky Lane. The prisoners were driven in Black Crows across the road from the Lubianka (there was no tunnel) and into the courtyard where a low squarish building had been specially constructed with a concrete floor sloping towards a far wall built of logs, to absorb the bullets, and hosing facilities to wash away the fluids. After a shot to the back of the head, the victims were placed in metal boxes and driven to one of the crematoria in Moscow. The ashes were usually dumped into a mass grave such as the one at the Donskoi Cemetery.1
The road that ended in the Donskoi often began in a note on Stalin’s desk. Stalin received not only pleas for life but denunciations demanding death. Once the Terror was unleashed, denunciations worked like kerosene on a fire, keeping it flaring up. These denunciations were already a vital part of the Stalinist system: everyone was expected to denounce everyone else. In the Bolshevik universe, there were only two ways for mistakes to come to the notice of the leaders: accidents—and denunciations. Denunciations poured into Stalin’s office: some were valid. “If we lived in a capitalist state, they’d be talking about us in the Parliament and newspapers,” said Voroshilov.
Some denunciations were the Stalinist equivalent of awkward Parliamentary questions or the work of investigative reporters: “You probably find it unpleasant that such letters are written, but I’m glad,” Stalin explained. “It would be a bad thing if no one complained. Don’t be afraid of quarrelling…This is better than friendship at the government’s expense.” But usually these poison letters were the result of witch-hunting mania, cannibalistic malice and amoral ambition.
Stalin relished the decision on how to treat the denunciations. If he did not like the person, the letters went to the NKVD with a note “Check!” and death probably followed. If he wished to “preserve” the person, he would file it and he might reactivate it years later. Hence his papers overflow with denunciations, some from ordinary people, others from top officials: a typical one, from a Comintern official, denounced Enemies in the Foreign Commissariat.2 One can only guess at the atmosphere of fear and intrigue within the Kremlin: Ordzhonikidze’s ex-secretary, surely trying to save his skin, wrote to Stalin to denounce Sergo’s widow, Zinaida, who had “said several times she can’t live without Sergo and I’m worried she’ll do something silly… She’s often telephoned by the wives of traitors to our Party. These wives turn to her with requests (to give to Comrade Yezhov). It’s not right and she must be told not to do it… I ask for your instructions. Every order will be fulfilled to the last drop of blood. Devoted to you, Semyushkin.”3 Sometimes farce turned swiftly to tragedy, like the story of how Stalin’s voice[120] was sabotaged by wreckers.4
A typical denunciation which Stalin read and marked came from a certain Krylov in distant Saratov, who told his leader that “Enemies have friends inside the NKVD and the Procuracy and are hiding Enemies.” 5 The military were as avid as anyone else: “I ask you to dismiss Commander… Osipov,” wrote an officer from Tiflis, “who is a very suspicious person.” Stalin underlined “suspicious” with his blue pen.6
The lightning of this Muscovite Zeus struck the regions in different ways: in July 1937, Liushkov, a ruthless Chekist who had already ravaged Rostov, was summoned to the Kremlin and ordered to the Far East. Stalin talked about the lives of men as if they were old clothes—some we keep, some we throw away: the Far Eastern First Secretary Vareikis was “not completely reliable,” having his own clique, but “it was necessary to keep” Marshal Blyukher. Liushkov obediently arrested Vareikis.
A less reliable way was to harness a local tool such as Polia Nikolaenko, the “heroic denunciatrix of Kiev,” championed by Stalin. The speciality of this terrifying crone, responsible for the deaths of as many as 8,000 people, was to stand up at meetings and shriek accusations: Khrushchev saw how she “pointed her finger and said, ‘I don’t know that man over there but I can tell by the look in his eyes that he’s an Enemy of the People.’” This talk of the “look in the eyes” was another sign of the Terror’s religious frenzy. The only way to rebut this was to answer quickly: “I don’t know this woman who’s just denounced me but I can tell from the look in
Her letter did reach Stalin, with devastating consequences for her enemies: “Dear Leader, Comrade Stalin,” she wrote on 17 September 1937, cunningly exposing how the local bosses were ignoring Stalin’s orders. “I ask for your intervention in Kiev matters… Enemies here again gather unbeatable power… sitting in their
Ten days later, Stalin swooped to her aid, telling the Ukrainian bosses: “Pay attention to Comrade Nikolaenko (look at her letter). Can you protect her from this audience of hooligans? According to my information, Glaz and Timofeev really are not especially trustworthy. Stalin.” Those two men were presumably arrested while Kosior survived for the moment. 7
The regions were soon killing too many, too quickly: Khrushchev,[121] Moscow leader, effectively ordered the shooting of 55,741 officials which more than fulfilled the original Politburo quota of 50,000. On 10 July 1937, Khrushchev wrote to Stalin to request shooting 2,000 ex-kulaks to fulfill the quota. The NKVD archives show him initialling many documents proposing arrests. By spring 1938, he had overseen the arrest of thirty-five of the thirty-eight provincial and city Secretaries, which gives some idea of this fever. Since he was based in Moscow, he brought death lists directly to Stalin and Molotov.
“There can’t be so many!” exclaimed Stalin.
“There are in fact more,” replied Khrushchev, according to Molotov. “You can’t imagine how many there are.” The city of Stalinabad (Askabad) was given a quota of 6,277 to shoot but actually executed 13,259.8
But mostly, they were killing the wrong people. The regional bosses selected the victims, finding it irresistible to liquidate their opponents and preserve their friends. Yet it was precisely these “princes” with their entourages that Stalin wished to destroy. Thus the First Secretaries’ initial blood-letting not only did not save them: it provided an excuse for their own eradication. It was only a matter of time before the centre unleashed a second wave of terror to eradicate the “princes” themselves.
Only Stalin’s personal viceroys, Zhdanov in Leningrad and Beria in Transcaucasia, did not require this “help.” Zhdanov was another enthusiastic believer that Trotskyites had infiltrated Leningrad, though he sometimes mused on cases: “You know I never thought Viktorov would turn out to be an Enemy of the People,” said Zhdanov to Admiral Kuznetsov, who “heard no doubt in his voice, only surprise… We spoke… as of men who had passed beyond the grave.” He oversaw the arrest of 68,000 in Leningrad. As for Beria, this professional Chekist oversaw his initial
