Mironov was confused. He waited, still hoping Stalin would turn everything into a joke, but Stalin kept staring at him and waited for an answer. Mironov shrugged his shoulders and, like a schoolboy undergoing an examination, said in an irresolute voice, “Nobody can know that, Yosif Vissarionovich. It is in the realm of astronomical figures.”
“Well, and can one man withstand the pressure of that astronomical weight?” asked Stalin sternly.
“No,” answered Mironov.
“Now then, don’t tell me any more that Kamenev, or this or that prisoner, is able to withstand that pressure. Don’t come to report to me,” said Stalin to Mironov, “until you have in this briefcase the confession of Kamenev!”74
The transfer of Kamenev’s case to the third-rate bully Chertok also produced no results, though the usual pressures of sleeplessness, semistarvation, and general bullying must have begun to wear him down.75
THE DEATH OF GORKY
Stalin planned to carry through the execution of the oppositionists regardless of possible revulsion in the Party. For, as ever, he was prepared to deal with this by his usual combination of hardness and maneuver. The only figure who could not be handled in this fashion and who, if alive, would be difficult to silence, was Maxim Gorky, who “remained until his death the only person whom Stalin was compelled to take into consideration, to some extent at least.”76 It is possible that had he lived, the August Trial might have had a different denouement. He had become ill on 31 May,77 and died on 18 June.
When Gorky had opposed the October Revolution in 1917, Stalin had attacked him in a tone more venomous than any other Bolshevik’s. He had even said (quite falsely), in an assault on an article of Gorky’s entitled “I Cannot Keep Silent,” that Gorky and his type had “kept silent” when landlords and capitalists were attacking the peasantry and the proletariat, that they reproached only the Revolution and not the counter-revolution. Gorky’s work had of course been one long blast at the ruling classes, and he had been associated with the Social Democrats from the start. Stalin went on to write that the Revolution was quite prepared to throw away “great names,” including Gorky’s, if necessary.
Gorky’s own views were by no means lacking in pugnacity. He several times remarked that if “the enemy” did not surrender “he must be destroyed.” Nevertheless, he had protected both Pilnyalc and Zamyatin during the outcry against those writers in 1930—and this alone must have been very galling to Stalin, particularly in the case of Pilnyak (see here). And since then, more significantly still to our point, he had intervened strongly in favor of the policy of reconciliation and been an outspoken opponent of the earlier attempts to destroy Kamenev and Zinoviev.
His mere existence was a factor strengthening the morale of Kamenev and others in their ordeal. His voice, they could be sure, would be raised against the new persecution of them, as soon as this became publicly known. To some degree, knowledge of this must have fortified their resistance. By the same token, his death at this particular time must have been a moral blow and must have made Stalin’s task easier.
As with Kuibyshev, we have a case of a death at a time very convenient to Stalin. Most deaths at times convenient to Stalin were so for the obvious reason.
The doctors attending Gorky were later to be accused of murdering him on Yagoda’s orders. When we come to the Bukharin Trial of 1938, at which this charge was made, we shall consider the evidence (see here). Meanwhile, we may note that the current trial was held as soon after the necessary confessions as was feasible, and, moreover, seems to have been dated to suit the absence on holiday of some of the Politburo. If Gorky had hung on for even a few months, he would certainly have represented an impediment to Stalin’s plans. The indefinite postponement of the trial would have been at the least awkward, and time would have been given for the mustering of opposition in the Central Committee. To have proceeded with the trial and not executed the oppositionists would have been contrary to Stalin’s whole plan. But to have carried this out regardless would, with Gorky alive, have had disadvantages. A powerful voice would have supported and heartened the already restless elements in the leadership; and while it might have been possible, it would not have been easy to silence the writer.
All such considerations are merely logical, and prove nothing. But Stalin was, in his way, a logical man. He was not averse to having people murdered, and his respect for literature was not such as to prevent his disposing of many other Russian writers of repute. We shall consider this suspicion later.
ZINOVIEV SURRENDERS
It now seemed suitable for Stalin to make a direct political approach to Zinoviev and Kamenev. Yezhov gave them what were represented as the Politburo’s instructions, to “disarm in a manner that will preclude any hope on your part of raising your head against the Party ever again.” The alternative was a trial by military court behind closed doors and the execution of the entire opposition, including the thousands in the camps.
Zinoviev refused, and a similar attempt on Kamenev was also unsuccessful, though Yezhov this time directly threatened that Kamenev’s son would be shot if he did not give in.
A tighter interrogative routine was then inflicted on them. Yagoda had the heat put on in the cells, though the weather was now hot. Zinoviev’s physical condition was very bad, and Kamenev was beginning to weaken under the threats to his son, whose arrest was finally ordered in his presence. In July, Zinoviev, after an all-night interrogation, asked to speak to Kamenev, and when they had discussed the matter they agreed to go on trial on condition that Stalin would confirm his promises to them, of executing neither themselves nor their followers, in the presence of the whole Politburo.
This was accepted. However, when they were taken to the alleged Politburo meeting, only Stalin, Voroshilov, and Yezhov were present. Stalin explained that they formed a “commission” of the Politburo authorized to hear the case.78
This appeal to the Politburo and Stalin’s partial evasion of it present some interesting points. Both appeal and evasion suggest that there were still some men in the Politburo who might have been relied on to try to have its guarantees respected. In fact, it is curious that as late as the execution of Rudzutak in 1938, some attempt at a similar appeal is suggested when we are told that “he was not even called before the Central Committee Political Bureau because Stalin did not want to talk to him.”79
Although shaken by the absence of the other Politburo members, the prisoners, after some argument, finally accepted Stalin’s terms, which guaranteed their lives, the lives of their supporters, and the liberty of their families. (A member of Zinoviev’s family told Krivitsky that one reason for capitulation was “to save his family,”80 and in Kamenev’s case the same is obviously true—and can be seen in his final plea.)
With the surrender of Zinoviev and Kamenev, the game was in Stalin’s hands. The trial was on. The lesser political figures were expendable at a pinch, and in any case no stronger argument could be put to them than the willingness of their seniors to go along with the trial and accept Stalin’s promises.
Kamenev’s own confession was under way on 13 July (and presumably Zinoviev’s too). Bakayev was confessing by 17 July; Dreitser, by 23 July.81 Mrachkovsky was confessing by 20 July, and on 21 July he had a “confrontation” with Smirnov. There are two slightly different accounts of this.82 One of them, evidently based on the official record, has these old friends quarreling because of what Smirnov regarded as Mrachkovsky’s weakness in surrendering. The other shows them as still on good terms at the end. In any case, Mrachkovsky made some such remark as “Why, Ivan Nikitich, you want to get out of a sordid bloody business with a clean shirt?” And Smirnov’s firm comment was “invention and slander!”83