the Rothschilds.” It is likely that Landau met Stalin personally. Another Rothschild executive, Dr. Felix Somary, a banker with the Austrian branch of the family and later a distinguished academic, claims he was sent to Baku to settle a strike. He paid Stalin the money. The strike ended.
Stalin regularly met another top businessman, Alexander Mancho, managing director of the Shibaev and Bibi-Eibat oil companies. “We often got money from Mancho for our organization,” recalls Ivan Vatsek, one of Stalin’s henchmen. “In such cases, Comrade Stalin came to me. Comrade Stalin also knew him well.” Either Mancho was a committed sympathizer or Stalin was blackmailing him, because the businessman coughed up cash on request at even the shortest notice.
Stalin was also running protection-rackets and kidnappings. Many tycoons paid if they did not wish their oilfields to catch fire or “accidents” to befall their families. It is hard to differentiate donations from protection- money, because the felonies Stalin now unleashed on them included “robberies, assaults, extortion of rich families, and kidnapping their children on the streets of Baku in broad daylight and then demanding ransom in the name of some ‘revolutionary committee,’” states Sagirashvili, who knew him in Baku. The “kidnapping of children was a routine matter at the time,” recalls Essad Bey, who as a boy never went out without a phalanx of three
Baku folklore claims that Stalin’s most profitable kidnapping was that of Musa Nageyev, the tenth richest oil baron, a notoriously stingy ex-peasant who so admired the Palazzo Cantarini in Venice that he built his own (bigger) copy—the majestic Venetian-Gothic Ismailiye Palace (now the Academy of Sciences). Nageyev was actually kidnapped twice, but his own accounts of these traumas were confused and murky. Neither case was ever solved, but Bolshevik involvement was suspected. Years later, Nageyev’s granddaughter, Jilar-Khanum, claimed that Stalin jokingly sent the oil baron thanks for his generous contributions to the Bolsheviks. [102]
It was said that the millionaires like Nageyev were keen to pay up after a “ten-minute conversation” with Stalin. This was probably thanks to his system of printing special forms that read:
The Bolshevik Committee
proposes that your firm
should pay ___ roubles.
The form was delivered to oil companies and the cash was collected by Soso’s technical assistant—“a very tall man who was known as ‘Stalin’s bodyguard,’ visibly packing a pistol. Nobody refused to pay.”
The Bolshevik boss befriended organized crime in Baku, their operations and those of the Mauserists often overlapping. One gang controlled access to some wasteland in the Black City section. Stalin “made an agreement with the gang only to let through Bolsheviks, not Mensheviks. The Bolsheviks had special passwords.” In Russia’s wildest city, both sides used violence: the oil tycoons employed Chechen ruffians as oilfield guards. One of the richest oil barons, Murtuza Mukhtarov, who resided in Baku’s biggest palace based on a French Gothic chateau, ordered his
Stalin’s secrecy was so absolute that the Mauserist Bokov said, “It was sometimes so conspiratorial that we didn’t even know where he was for six months! He had no permanent address and we only knew him as ‘Koba.’ If he had an appointment he never turned up on time; he turned up either a day early or a day later. He never changed his clothes, so he looked like an unemployed person.” Soso’s comrades noticed that he was different from the usual passionate Caucasian. “Sentiment was foreign to him,” says one. “No matter how much he loved a fellow, he’d never forgive him even the tiniest spoiling of a Party matter—he’d skin him alive.”
So again he succeeded in raising money and guns, but with him there was always a human cost. The traditional Bolsheviks like Alexinsky and Zemliachka were “very indignant at these expropriations” and killings. “Stalin blamed one member for provocation. There was no definite evidence, but that person was forced out of the city, ‘judged,’ condemned to death and shot.”
Stalin prided himself on being what he called a
Soso had an “electrical effect” on his followers, of whom he took good care. He had a talent for political friendship that played a major role in his rise to power. His roommate from Stockholm, Voroshilov, the eager, fair- haired and dandyish lathe-turner,[104] joined him in Baku but fell ill. “He visited me every evening,” said Voroshilov. “We joked a lot. He asked if I liked poetry and recited a whole Nekrasov poem by heart. Then we sang together. He really had a good voice and fine ear.” “Poetry and music,” Stalin told Voroshilov, “elevate the spirit!” When Alliluyev was arrested again, he worried about his family, so once released he came to consult Soso, who insisted he had to leave, giving him cash to move to Moscow. “Take the money, you’ve children, you must look after them.”
The death of Kato was a grievous blow, but even in early 1908 the widower who signed his articles “Koba Kato” found time for partying, and never lacked female company.
23. Louse Racing, Murder and Madness—Prison Games
Whenever the Outfit pulled off a heist, Stalin and Spandarian spent a little of it on a wild party. In a very Bolshevik in-joke on the Party’s endless political schisms, Soso called these festivities
“When Stalin collected some extra pennies,” reports A. D. Sa-kvarelidze, who ran Stalin’s cash-counterfeiting operations, “we’d hold a ‘deviational’ meeting in a remote bistro or a private room at a gorgeous restaurant, often Svet Restaurant on Trading Street, where we’d have a feast, especially after celebrating the success of some deed. Spandarian especially liked ‘deviations’ where we’d talk frankly, eat deliciously and sing loudly, particularly Stalin.” Wherever Spandarian went, girls usually followed.
A comrade from Batumi introduced his pretty sister, Alvasi Tala-kvadze, to Stalin. She was just eighteen, a self-confessed “spoilt child,” brimming with revolutionary ardour. “Koba—the head of the Baku proletariat—used the backroom of my brother’s flowerstall in the Bibi-Eibat oilfield as his base,” she explains. So Stalin took Talakvadze under his wing, giving her the moniker “Comrade Plus” because of her enthusiasm. Even in absurdly turgid Stalinist jargon, the girl’s memoirs record a close relationship: “Koba was enlightening me ideologically, conducting with me discussions on social-political subjects, and developing in me class-consciousness, introducing me to a faith in victory.” One is tempted to read “developing class-consciousness” and “introducing faith in victory” as euphemisms, because Alvasi Talakvadze later let it be known she was Stalin’s girlfriend in 1908.
His gift for conspiracy was ingenious, if sometimes macabre. This girlfriend became “adept at tricking the spooks, but Koba devised the most original tricks.” One day, he ordered her to take some secret documents to the Balakhana oilfield in a coffin. “You must play the role of a mourning sister who is burying her dead baby brother with her bare hands,” said Stalin, sending her to a cemetery and directing her performance like a playwright. “You’ll loosen your hair, hold the coffin, sob, say you’re left alone and blame yourself for his death. Don’t bury it too deeply.” He handed her a shovel. The “director” praised her performance, covertly observing her. “Even now,” she mused later, “I don’t know how he watched me so acutely.”
Alvasi Talakvadze does not seem to have been his only relationship with a comrade. He also came to know Ludmilla Stal, “a famous activist among women” who was described later as “buxom but pretty.” The daughter of the owner of a steel mill from south Ukraine, six years older than Soso, she was already a prison veteran. Soon afterwards, she went into exile in Paris. The affair was said to be intermittent, but it had an influence on the younger Stalin. They possibly met later during Stalin’s visits abroad to see Lenin, with whom Ludmilla worked closely. They certainly met again in 1917. But nothing survives of their friendship—except one surprising lifelong relic: his renowned name.
