Spies and Commissars

December.³⁷ But although Krasin had done well with the Prime Minister, the judicial system was another matter. Mr Justice Roche in the same month found in favour of the Briton who had lost his timber in Sovnarkom’s nationalizing campaigns of two years earlier and was seeking to impound a Soviet cargo of veneer about to be unloaded in the United Kingdom. Roche’s judgment endangered any contract entered into by Krasin, and the New York Times warned that this could also have adverse consequences for any American businessmen tempted to trade with communist Russia.³⁸ The oil of the south Caucasus was another contentious matter. Two British companies, the Baku Consolidated Oilfields and the gloriously named Spies Petroleum Co., had suffered the nationalization of their assets when the Red Army marched into Azerbaijan — some of their staff were thrown into prison. The companies raised a hue and cry when Krasin offered to make these assets available to other British enterprises.³⁹ The disgruntled Leslie Urquhart also continued to make trouble for Soviet negotiators by denouncing the London talks in The Times.⁴⁰

Even so, the Prime Minister was willing to keep the talks going. With a little more compromise on the Soviet side it might soon be possible to conclude a trade treaty. A small working party was created in Moscow to examine questions about Russia’s foreign debts in case Krasin needed to give some sort of commitment to recognizing them.⁴¹ Better to sign a half-good treaty than to lose the chance of any treaty at all. But when Lloyd George kept up the pressure on Krasin for the Bolsheviks to refrain from conducting their propaganda and subversion in the British Empire, Krasin affected outrage. If the government in Russia were to accept such a clause, he asked, what was to be done about Secretary for War Winston Churchill’s contributions to the Western press? ⁴² Churchill doubtless caused annoyance to the Kremlin. But his commentary was never published in Moscow, and Krasin understood full well that Lloyd George simply wanted a reciprocal understanding that the British and the Russian authorities would not interfere in each other’s politics. Krasin could easily — if insincerely — give this guarantee. Almost without anyone expecting it, the muddled negotiations began to look as if they might end in a treaty.

30. THE ECONOMICS OF SURVIVAL

Although the Bolsheviks believed they were close to concluding trade negotiations with Britain and faced no immediate military threat, the domestic situation was far from easy. Until the winter of 1920–1 it looked as if the Kremlin would indefinitely maintain its wartime economic system which involved the forcible requisitioning of grain from the peasantry without compensation. Previous attempts to modify this policy, first by Trotsky and then by Lenin, met with furious objections from the rest of the leadership. In February 1920, indeed, Lenin himself had led those who shouted down Trotsky as a promoter of capitalism. At the end of the same year he received his own come-uppance when he recommended a milder scheme of his own.¹

The party had been distracted by an internal dispute between Lenin and Trotsky about what limits to place on the freedoms of trade unions in peacetime, but the leadership could not ignore the growing danger of serious insurrection for long. Industrial strikes had broken out in most cities. There was discontent in every garrison, and mutinies were not unknown. And the peasants grew ever more hostile to a government that seized their harvests. On 8 February 1921 the Politburo came to its senses when reports reached Moscow about the crescendo of rural revolts. Western Siberia and Ukraine — Russia’s bread basket — were ablaze. If their crucial agricultural contribution was threatened, the cities would starve. The final straw for the Soviet leaders was a rebellion led by Socialist-Revolutionary A. S. Antonov throughout Tambov province in the mid-Volga region. Having won the Civil War, the Bolsheviks were on the point of losing the peace. The Politburo urgently needed to offer some concessions to the peasants. The solution was obvious: the authorities had to stop seizing the whole agricultural ‘surplus’ from the villages and introduce a tax-in-kind, allowing them to make a profit from what was left of their harvest after meeting their fiscal obligation. A corner of private trade would be restored to them through this New Economic Policy.

Still troubled by the wrangling over the unions, Lenin was keenly aware that the New Economic Policy would be even more divisive. He and the rest of the Politburo were determined to keep the proposals strictly confidential until all the details had been worked out. The same degree of caution was exercised over the London trade talks, with Pravda keeping its reports deliberately vague. Lenin had delayed reopening his campaign on concessions until December 1920 at the Congress of Soviets, where he cited the Kamchatka deal with Vanderlip as the model. But his ideas had met with a stormy reaction from Bolsheviks, and he reverted to discussing the matter behind closed doors; but he had no doubt that the collapse of Soviet oil production made it crucial to attract foreign companies back to Baku.² This was deeply uncongenial to Azerbaijani communist leaders who remembered the Nobel Brothers’ Petroleum Co. and other enterprises for their careless attitude both to the health of workers and to the environment. Lenin’s blandishments to Western petrochemical companies would flood the republic with capitalism. Soviet leaders were naturally nervous about changes in policy that could touch off a split in their fiery party.

The discussions continued long into the New Year, and on 5 February 1921 the Politburo asked Kamenev and Rykov to enquire whether concessions were simply the best way to reverse the decline in Azerbaijani oil output.³ If Baku industry was to be restored, rapid action was required — and there was no evidence that the communist leaders in Azerbaijan had any idea how they would raise their own capital to begin the process. At a further discussion, nonetheless, the votes in the Politburo were split and the matter was referred to the Party Central Committee rather than risk a dispute throughout the party.⁴ This deflected the debate to a wider circle of party leaders as regional officials got to hear about what was being proposed. The Central Committee itself was divided but eventually decided to pronounce concessions acceptable in principle if the ‘mortal danger’ of the slump in production could be prevented (although it was recognized that foreign companies might not wish to operate again in Baku). Lenin had won the debate, but it was only by a slim majority that he did so; and nobody could be sure that the rest of the party would not raise objections when the decision became public knowledge.⁵

In London, despite reports of continued objections to a trade treaty appearing regularly in The Times,⁶ there was an air of expectancy. Krasin had signed contracts with British companies in advance of a settlement between the two governments, and Yorkshire textile factories queued to sell cloth to Russia.⁷ Businessmen travelled from the United Kingdom to Tallinn to sign their Russian deals using Sweden as the umbrella for their business and readying themselves for what was expected to be an enormous expansion of commerce.⁸

The British government refused to give way on certain of its demands. Soviet Russia had to cease all hostile activities, including propaganda, in the territories of the British Empire. Britons in Russian captivity had to be immediately released; in return the British would repatriate the Russians they had incarcerated. Chicherin, however, told Krasin to resist any pressure because Britain’s hold on its empire in the East was no longer as strong as it had been. Lenin was blunter still: ‘That swine Lloyd George has no scruples of shame in the way he deceives. Don’t believe a word he says and gull him three times as much.’⁹ But Chicherin and Lenin soon calmed down since they knew that they would lose the deal if they rejected the British conditions, and Lenin remained pessimistic about Russia’s capacity for independent economic recovery without foreign assistance. His sudden explosions were characteristic. When Soviet officials went abroad on missions he frequently accused them of appeasing foreigners and quietly forgot how he had succumbed to the Germans at Brest-Litovsk. At any rate Krasin could show that the British government was willing to overlook the entire question of loans made to Russia’s previous governments; and since Lloyd George was not driving the hardest of bargains, Sovnarkom empowered Krasin to strike the deal.

Since the debacle near Warsaw, the Red Army had stood aside as Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania proclaimed their borders and confirmed their independence. Adolf Ioffe led the Soviet delegation in the peace negotiations with Poland in Riga. The Poles had given up their hope that any Russian force could bring down the Bolsheviks. Wrangel’s army felt the full strength of a Red Army which was no longer being asked to fight a campaign on Polish territory. Crammed into Crimea, the Volunteer Army was in a desperate plight by early November 1920 and Wrangel ordered a mass evacuation, along with hundreds of thousands of civilian fugitives, across the Black Sea. The Russian White cause had gone down to comprehensive defeat. The Polish leadership recognized its incapacity to drive the Reds