Michael Dobbs - Down with Big Brother

“Any concession is tantamount to capitulation by the Party,” the conducător whined. “In addition to political methods, other steps must be taken that will strengthen the state authorities and smash the counterrevolution. There must be an element of force.”

Now it was Kádár’s turn. Installed in power by the Red Army following the 1956 uprising, the Hungarian leader had the reputation of being the most sophisticated and flexible of East European leaders. He had softened his “butcher of Budapest” image by promoting a consumer ideology known as goulash communism and experimenting with market mechanisms in the economy. But he remained brutally realistic about the limits of Soviet tolerance and the character of his Kremlin patrons. “Do you really not know the kind of people you’re dealing with?” he had asked Dubĉek, in frustration, three days before Russian tanks rolled into Czechoslovakia. 113His own carefully calibrated strategy could be jeopardized by the kind of revolutionary change now sweeping through Poland.

His voice breaking with emotion, Kádár told his Soviet bloc colleagues that what was happening in Poland was “a Polish affair” but had implications for “the entire socialist community.” “We think that the Polish comrades will sort this out. But we must show solidarity with them and offer them our help.”

“The military assistance rendered by other socialist countries to Czechoslovakia in 1968 turned out to be absolutely necessary,” piped up Husák, who had been responsible for “normalizing” Czechoslovakia in the wake of the Soviet invasion. “In Poland the leadership is good, but it lacks courage and decisiveness.”

Husák’s eyes welled with tears. He was himself a victim of Stalinist repression and had served an eight-year prison sentence on trumped-up charges of “bourgeois nationalism.” But this had not prevented him from purging the Czechoslovak party of almost one-third of its members after ousting Dubĉek. The stifling political atmosphere had made him a hated figure among Czechoslovak intellectuals, many of whom had been forced to take menial jobs, but Husák did not care. Intensely ambitious, he understood that the path to success in a Communist country was to carry out Moscow’s wishes, without question.

After allowing everyone to have his say, the Kremlin leaders dragged their Polish counterparts off for a further round of browbeating, this time one-on-one. Jaruzelski tried to convince Ustinov that the Polish army—unlike the Czechoslovak army in 1968—was loyal and disciplined. The Soviet defense minister brushed him aside. Puffing himself up in his marshal’s uniform and banging his fist on the table, he repeated over and over again: “It is necessary to act with determination, and in an offensive manner.” 114

The decisive encounter took place between the two party leaders. Kania tried to explain to Brezhnev that Soviet military intervention was likely to provoke a popular uprising, in addition to dealing a catastrophic blow to détente. He recalled how young Poles had attacked German tanks with Molotov cocktails during the Warsaw uprising at the end of World War II. No nation in Europe was willing to risk so much for its independence, he told Brezhnev. Finally, Kania promised the general secretary that the Polish Communist Party would not permit any change to the “constitutional order.”

After Kania had finished, the decrepit Brezhnev uttered the enigmatic words that seemed to summarize the Kremlin’s entire approach to the crisis. “Okay, we will not go in.”

There was a pause as he struggled for breath.

“But if there are complications, we will go in. We will go in.”

Another long pause.

“But without you, we won’t go in.” 115

A few hours later the high command of the Warsaw Pact withdrew the order for eighteen divisions of highly trained combat troops to move into Poland at midnight on December 8 for the Soyuz 80 “maneuver.” 116The first stage of the crisis was over. The second was about to begin.

WHILE THE POLISH LEADERS FLEW home to Warsaw, the Soviet, East German, and Czechoslovak troops that had been expecting to crush the “counterrevolution” in Poland began to demobilize. As the days went by and the threat of a Soviet invasion failed to materialize, there were sighs of relief in Western capitals. Superpower relations, already seriously damaged by the invasion of Afghanistan, would not be thrown back into the ice age. But a tantalizing question remained: What had caused the old men in the Kremlin to pull back from the brink?

In their memoirs both Kania and Brzezinski claim some of the credit for persuading Brezhnev to back down. The arguments of Polish leaders, and the public and private warnings issued by the White House, must have had some impact on Soviet calculations. But Politburo records released in Moscow after the collapse of communism provide another explanation for Soviet restraint. The Soviet leaders had no intention of invading Poland, except possibly as a last resort, in the event of massive civil disorders. The Kremlin strategy all along was to pressure the Polish leadership to do its dirty work. Large-scale military maneuvers around the country’s borders—which would certainly be observed by American spy satellites—was one particularly effective method of raising the psychological stakes. Repeated American warnings of a Soviet invasion of Poland may have inadvertently served Moscow’s purposes by increasing the pressure on Warsaw to take drastic action against Solidarity.

Kremlin documents show that Soviet leaders began actively considering the martial law option as early as October, a full fourteen months before Jaruzelski eventually took the plunge. They knew about the contingency plans for a state of emergency and wanted the Polish leadership to put them into effect. Brezhnev contrasted the passivity of the Polish leadership with the repressive policies adopted by Tito’s successors in Yugoslavia, who used the pretext of some minor labor unrest to arrest three hundred Albanian dissidents.

“Wałęsa travels from one end of the country to another and is treated in high esteem,” Brezhnev grumbled. “Perhaps they really should introduce martial law.”

Other Politburo members agreed. “If martial law is not introduced, then the situation is going to become more and more complicated,” declared Ustinov. “There are rumblings in the [Polish] army.” 117

The ostentatious manner with which Soviet generals shared their invasion plans with their Polish colleagues also smacked of political intimidation. The Soviets even allowed a visiting Polish delegation to make copies of a map showing precisely where the eighteen Warsaw Pact divisions would be deployed. Polish staff officers accompanied Soviet advance troops on reconnaissance missions into Poland. 118Looking back at the events of December 1980 twelve years later, Jaruzelski acknowledged that Soviet leaders had stage-managed the summit “to scare us out of our wits.” 119The deputy chief of staff of the Warsaw Pact, General Anatoly Gribkov, conceded that the Kremlin had sought to “put pressure on the Polish leadership and society in every possible way.” 120

The exercises produced their intended effect. After returning from Moscow, Jaruzelski ordered that preparations for martial law be accelerated. Lists were drawn up of four thousand leading Solidarity activists who would be interned as soon as a state of emergency was declared. 121

By early 1981 the Kremlin strategy had become clear. “We must subject the Polish leadership to constant pressure,” Ustinov told the Politburo on January 29. “We are planning maneuvers in Poland in March. I think we should extend these maneuvers so as to create the impression that our forces are ready [to intervene].” 122Three months later a secret Kremlin document described the fear of a Soviet invasion of Poland as “a factor that restrains the counterrevolution” that should be “exploited to the maximum possible extent.” 123