In March 1938, fascist Germany unceremoniously seized Austria. The Anschluss provoked no protest from either England or France. The League of Nations did not react either. In September, a meeting took place between Chamberlain and Daladier with Hitler, which ended with their betrayal of Czechoslovakia. The Sudetenland was annexed to Germany.

The Soviet leadership placed great hopes on the Anglo-Franco-Soviet negotiations (May-August 1939), at which our proposal to conclude a defensive pact among the three powers was introduced. However, due to the objections of England and France's ally -- Poland -- and the boycott on the part of the West, the negotiations were wrecked and military cooperation among the participating countries became impossible. The Soviet Union had no other means of averting the military threat than to accept Germany's proposal to conclude a non-aggression treaty, which was signed in Moscow on August 23.

On September 1, 1939, Germany attacked Poland. The Second World War had become a fact. On September 28, a treaty was signed in Moscow between the Soviet Union and Germany, establishing the western border of the USSR approximately along the "Curzon Line," which had been proposed as early as 1919 by England, France, and the USA as the border between us and Poland. A debate unfolded around the Soviet-German treaties. They were given the most varied, sometimes diametrically opposed, assessments.

In the conditions of the war in Europe, the security interests of the Soviet Union required the strengthening of its border with Finland. At this time, negotiations between the Soviet government and a Finnish delegation were under way in Moscow. They were difficult and progressed slowly. The press traded in speculation and tendentious rumors. A.M. Kollontai, the Soviet ambassador in Sweden, also lacked sufficient information, and to better orient herself, she decided to travel to Moscow to consult with the People's Commissariat of Foreign Affairs and obtain clarifications of the USSR's position.

Having settled in the "Moskva" Hotel, Aleksandra Mikhailovna began calling V.M. Molotov.

"I," Kollontai recalls, "am sitting in the anteroom waiting for Molotov to call me in. I wait for hours. The secretaries return from the office and laconically tell me:

'No, he is still busy, please wait.' -- Finally the secretary opens the door of Molotov's office for me:

'Go in, Vyacheslav Mikhailovich is expecting you.'
Molotov began the conversation with a question:

'You've come to lobby for your Finns?'

'I have come to inform you in person about how public opinion abroad is reacting to our collapsed negotiations with Finland. To deliver a full and objective report in a face-to-face meeting. It seems to me that in Moscow they do not fully appreciate what a conflict between the Soviet Union and Finland will entail.'

'The Scandinavians have learned from the example of Poland that we give no concessions to the Nazis.'

'All the progressive forces of Europe will be on Finland's side.'

'Is it the imperialists of England and France that you honor with the title of progressive forces? Their intrigues are well known to us. And what about your Swedes? Will they hold to their proclaimed neutrality?'
I tried to indicate briefly but clearly to Molotov the inevitable consequences that war would bring. Not only the Scandinavians, but other countries too would intervene on Finland's behalf.

At this point Molotov interrupted me.

'You have in mind once again the "progressive forces" -- the imperialists of England and France? All of that has been taken into account by us.'
My briefing was met by Molotov with a decisive rebuff. Molotov several times emphatically repeated to me that there was no possibility of reaching an agreement with the Finns. He enumerated the fundamentals of the proposed treaty with Finland, which came down to securing our borders and, without encroaching on Finland's independence, offering the Finns compensation for the relocation of the border line further north. To every Soviet proposal, the Finnish delegation had only one prepared answer: 'No, we cannot accept.'
Since no arguments were taken into consideration, this created the impression that the Finnish government had decided for itself the question of the inevitability of war against the USSR. However, the Soviet government, the People's Commissar said, was interested in the neutrality of the Scandinavian countries.

'We must do everything possible to keep them from entering the war. That will be one fewer front against us,' Molotov said to A.M. Kollontai in parting.

With a kind of feeling of dissatisfaction, weariness, and a looming heavy burden of responsibility, I slowly walked to the hotel, going over the details of the meeting with Molotov, -- Aleksandra Mikhailovna recorded. -- I tried to resolve my official business at the People's Commissariat of Foreign Affairs and the Foreign Trade Department as quickly as possible and return to Stockholm. I wanted, especially after the meeting with Molotov, to call Stalin. I felt the inner impulse several times, but realizing the full complexity of the situation, the tension of the moment and the responsibility that had fallen upon Stalin, I could not disturb him...

Several busy days passed. I had settled almost all my affairs and was already preparing to leave. Suddenly the telephone rang.

'Comrade Aleksandra Mikhailovna Kollontai?'

'Yes. I am listening.'

'Comrade Stalin invites you. Could you meet? And what time would suit you?'
I replied that at any moment, as Comrade Stalin pleased.

There was silence for a while. Evidently the secretary was reporting to Stalin.

'Can you come right now?'

'Of course I can.'

'In seven minutes a car will be at the main entrance of the Hotel Moskva. Goodbye, Aleksandra Mikhailovna.'
I am once again in Stalin's office in the Kremlin. Stalin rose from behind his desk to greet me and, smiling, shook my hand for a long time. He asked about my health and invited me to sit down.

Outwardly, Stalin looked tired, preoccupied, but calm, confident, though one could feel what a massive burden of affairs lay upon him. I felt this with particular force when Stalin began pacing back and forth along the long table. His head seemed to have sunk into his shoulders under the enormity of affairs. And then Stalin asked: 'How are things going with you and your Scandinavian neutrals?'
While I was trying to formulate a brief yet substantive answer, Stalin began speaking about the negotiations with the Finnish delegation in Moscow, about the fact that six months of negotiations had led to nothing. The Finnish delegation had left Moscow in mid-November and had not returned with the 'new instructions' it had promised. The treaty that was supposed to ensure peace and peaceful coexistence between the USSR and Finland remained unsigned. Stalin was concerned, but no alarm was perceptible.

Essentially, the conversation revolved around the situation that had developed with Finland. Stalin advised stepping up the work of the Soviet embassy on studying the situation in the Scandinavian countries in connection with Germany's penetration of those countries, so as to engage the governments of Norway and Sweden and to influence Finland in order to prevent a conflict. And, as if summing up, he said that 'if it proves impossible to prevent the conflict, it will be short-lived and cost little blood. The time for "persuasion" and "negotiations" is over. We must prepare in practical terms for a rebuff, for war with Hitler.'
I felt as if I had been struck by an electric shock. For the first time I sensed how close the war was. My notebook even slipped from my hands -- the notebook I had brought along when going to Stalin in the Kremlin so as to write everything down...

This time the conversation lasted more than two hours. I did not notice how quickly the time flew. Stalin, while conversing with me, at the same time seemed to be reasoning aloud to himself. He touched on many subjects: the defeat of the Popular Front in Spain; he spoke at length about the heroes of that struggle. This lasted only a few minutes. His main thoughts were concentrated on the position of our country in the world, its role and potential capabilities. 'In this context,' he emphasized, 'economics and politics are inseparable.' Speaking of industry and agriculture, he named several persons responsible for these affairs and dozens of names of leaders of large enterprises, factories, and agricultural workers. He was particularly preoccupied with the re-arming of the army, as well as the role of the home front in war and the need for heightened vigilance at the border and within the country. And, as if summing up, he especially underscored:

'All this will fall on the shoulders of the Russian people. For the Russian people is a great people. The Russian people is a good people. The Russian people has a clear mind. It is as if born to help other nations. The Russian people possesses great courage, especially in difficult times, in dangerous times. It is a people of initiative. It has a steadfast character. It is a dreaming people. It has a goal. That is why things are harder for it than for other nations. You can rely on it in any trouble. The Russian people is invincible, inexhaustible.'
I tried not to miss a single word, writing so fast that my pencil broke. I clumsily tried to grab a second one from the stand on the table, nearly knocking it over. Stalin glanced over, smiled, and began lighting his pipe...

Reflecting on the role of the individual in history, on the past and the future, Stalin touched on many names -- from Alexander of Macedon to Napoleon. I tried not to miss the order in which he began listing Russian names.

He began with the Kievan princes. Then he listed Alexander Nevsky, Dmitry Donskoy, Ivan Kalita, Ivan the Terrible, Peter the Great, Alexander Suvorov, Mikhail Kutuzov. He concluded with Marx and Lenin.

At this point I interjected, wanting to say something about Stalin's role in history. But I said only: 'Your name will be inscribed...' Stalin raised his hand and stopped me. I was embarrassed. Stalin continued:

'Many of the deeds of our party and people will be distorted and vilified, above all abroad, but also in our own country. Zionism, striving for world domination, will cruelly avenge us for our successes and achievements. It still regards Russia as a barbarous country, as a raw-materials appendage. And my name will also be slandered, defamed. Many atrocities will be attributed to me.

World Zionism will strive with all its forces to destroy our Union, so that Russia can never rise again. The strength of the USSR lies in the friendship of its peoples. The thrust of the struggle will be aimed above all at rupturing that friendship, at tearing the borderlands away from Russia. Here, it must be admitted, we have not yet done everything. There is still a vast field of work here.

Nationalism will rear its head with particular force. It will suppress internationalism and patriotism for a time -- only for a time. National groups will arise within nations, and conflicts will erupt. Many pygmy-leaders will appear, traitors within their own nations.

On the whole, the course of future development will be more complex and even furious, the turns will be extremely sharp. The matter is heading toward a situation in which the East will be especially agitated. Acute contradictions with the West will arise.

And yet, however events may develop, time will pass, and the eyes of new generations will turn to the deeds and victories of our socialist Fatherland. Year after year, new generations will come. They will raise the banner of their fathers and grandfathers anew and will give us our full due. They will build their future upon our past.'

'This conversation,' Kollontai recorded, 'made an indelible impression on me. I looked at the world around me differently. I returned to it in my thoughts many, many times already during the war years and after, reread it repeatedly and each time found something new, some turn, some new facet. And now, as vividly as if it were happening, I see Stalin's office in the Kremlin. In it, the long table, and Stalin...'
As I was leaving the office, a kind of sadness came over me. Saying goodbye, Iosif Vissarionovich said: 'Steady yourself. Hard times are coming, they are not far off. They must be overcome.' And, after a brief silence, he said: 'We will overcome them. We will overcome them for certain! Take care of yourself, strengthen your health, temper yourself in the struggle!'
Coming out of the Kremlin, I did not walk -- I simply ran, noticing no one, repeating to myself so as not to forget what Stalin had said. Entering the building, I immediately pulled out my notebook with its jottings, grabbed paper, and began writing. I glanced at the clock. It was already deep night. The clock showed ten minutes to two..."

Dialog. 1998. No. 8. Pp. 92-94.

Note:

Extracts from the diaries of A.M. Kollontai, preserved in the Archive of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the Russian Federation, were made by the historian M.I. Trush.