The Struggle & the Victory

For a week big black government limousines had been rolling through Red Square and into the Kremlin, Top Soviet ambassadors had been recalled from abroad, and a June 30 flypast of Soviet planes had been canceled (on account of the muggy, sling weather, it was first suggested). But when a scheduled B. and K. trip to Prague was postponed, Muscovites, old in ways of Communists, knew that something big was brewing. The grapevine that takes the place of normal newspapers said that the party's Central Committee was meeting, and that big shifts were in the making. Then, early one grey morning, when the newspapers of the Western world were already responding to the news broadcast by Radio Moscow, the 4:40 a.m. edition of Pravda broke it to Russians: Malenkov, Molotov and Kaganovich had fallen. They were out.

The communique was more softly worded than the one that had ousted Security Boss Lavrenty Beria exactly four years earlier (only to be shot in six months), but beneath its repetitious, doctrinaire prose, the voice of Nikita Khrushchev was clearly heard. The three party bigwigs had long opposed Khrushchev on six specific counts: They had 1) "sought to frustrate so vastly important a measure as the reorganization of industrial management"; 2) "failed to recognize the necessity for increased material incentives for the collective-farm peasantry"; 3) stubbornly resisted "the measures which the . . . party was carrying out to do away with the consequences of the personality cult"; 4) "offered constant opposition . . . to the struggle against the revisionists of Marxism-Leninism" inside and outside the country; 5) they had "attempted to oppose the Leninist policy of peaceful coexistence between states with different social systems"; and 6) they had "carried on an entirely unwarranted struggle against the party's appeal . . . to overtake the United States" in food production.

The Old Notions. Old Bolshevik Molotov, for 13 years Soviet Foreign Minister and for 51 years a 'hardheaded, hard-bottomed servant of Communism, was singled out for special attack. It "cannot be considered accidental" that he had repeatedly come out against "measures to improve relations between the U.S.S.R. and Yugoslavia," and was "against normalization of relations with Japan." He was opposed to the "different ways of transition to socialism" thesis, and "denied the advisability of establishing personal contacts between the Soviet leaders and the statesmen of other countries." The anti-party group was "shackled by old notions and methods," and Molotov in particular had "manifested a conservative and narrow-minded attitude." But the Big Three's big crime had been "entering into collusion on an anti-party basis" and using "antiparty fractional methods in an attempt to change the composition of the party's leading bodies."

The role of ex-Foreign Minister Dmitry Shepilov, "who had joined them," was made clear by a Radio Moscow broadcast hours later. It was the big, rumpled Shepilov who, as editor of Pravda, made a call on Egypt's Gamal Abdel Nasser in 1955, and sold him Soviet arms in exchange for Egyptian cotton. Speaking in Arabic, Radio Moscow last week warned Egypt not to identify Soviet policy towards Egypt with Mr. Shepilov (Shepilov's name was carefully omitted from the list of those fired, in the official version of the Soviet communique issued in Cairo). Anyone who thought Arab-Soviet relations had been consolidated thanks to Mr. Shepilov, said the Moscow commentator, "was making a big mistake." In organizing the Egyptian arms buildup which had led to the Battle of Suez last October, Shepilov had been Molotov's deputy. Evidently the dismal failure of that chapter of Soviet imperialism is now to be considered the "narrow-minded" Molotov's responsibility, and the unimportant Shepilov its scapegoat.

Opposition Is Sabotage. Had Malenkov, Molotov and Kaganovich actually opposed the party on matters of principle? Or had they merely opposed, by any means at hand, the rise to power of the ebullient, bull-throated Nikita, knowing that once in the saddle he would ride herd over them? The distinction did not matter. In the Communist code book, all opposition is sabotage. In ousting the "saboteurs," Khrushchev was able to announce proudly that "not a single member of the plenum of the Central Committee supported the group."* Thus did Khrushchev boast that he had restored the monolithic unanimity of the party. He also established himself as its sole voice.

But, knowing that Mao, Tito and other Communists with long memories of Stalin's personal autocracy would be looking over his shoulder, Khrushchev needed ideological justification for his arbitrary action. Pravda, on the day of the communique, printed a 10,000-word defense of the need for "one discipline and one law for all Communists." By way of explaining Khrushchev's sudden about-face toward his old drinking-party cronies, the article quoted an obscure letter written by Lenin during an earlier Bolshevik opposition crisis: "I would consider it to be a shameful act on my part if because of my previous close association with these former comrades I were to hesitate to condemn them." In this spirit, Khrushchev in the following week stepped up a vigorous condemnation of Malenkov & Co. that went far beyond the flat sentences of the communique. The momentum of destruction was accelerating.

Roll the Drums. In Moscow alone, 8,000 mass meetings were held in two days, and at them well-briefed party activists worked over the communique. Said Radio Moscow: "The strongest impression which one gains among the population is that those dismissed have no following." At a U.S. embassy party, First Deputy Premier Anastas Mikoyan--who, as usual, had lithely jumped the right way--promised: "Things are going to be the same as before, only better." Scores of cities and towns named Molotov or Kaganovich petitioned with punctual unanimity to have their names changed. Ukrainian Premier Nikifor Kalchenko charged that during Stalin's reign Kaganovich had made "grave and unfounded accusations" against Ukrainian leaders, many of whom were purged. In Moscow, Presidium Alternate Alexei Kosygin said of Molotov and Kaganovich: "The basic fault that led to their anti-party activities was vanity. They considered they did not have enough power. They were more interested in discrediting party attainments than working for successes." He went on: "Kaganovich was so awkward, and misunderstood the party so badly, that he became the subject of ridicule. Such a man can bring no good."

Now the drumbeat of attack increased ominously. Marshal Zhukov, in measured words, told an armed forces rally that the four ousted leaders were guilty of "conspiratorial action." The Soviet army newspaper Red Star said that the accused had threatened to undermine the foundations of Soviet military security--a move "which would have played into the hands of the enemies of the Soviet state, the imperialist aggressors." Added the government newspaper Izvestia: "Molotov, Malenkov and Kaganovich, but especially Malenkov, are directly responsible for the disorganized state of Soviet agriculture during the past several years." Malenkov was also charged with "ignorance that retarded the development of electrical power stations." At week's end Pravda was able to report a "wave of popular wrath."

"Hatching Cunning Schemes." The climax of the hate campaign came with an address given by Khrushchev to the workers of the Elektrosila factory in Leningrad, and broadcast nationally. Khrushchev accused Malenkov, Molotov and Kaganovich of "hatching cunning schemes" to obtain "key positions in the party," and called Shepilov "a most shameless double-dealing individual."

Khrushchev's choice of Leningrad, Russia's second city (pop. 4,800,000), was in itself cunning. The "plotters," said Khrushchev, had timed their attack on the Central Committee to coincide with the 250th anniversary (June 23) of Leningrad,* to prevent Presidium members from taking part in the celebrations in that city. Reason: the anti-party group was "particularly gravely guilty of the most flagrant errors and shortcomings which took place in the past" in Leningrad.

Khrushchev made his point clearer: the accused had had a hand in the famous "Leningrad Case." This was a conspiracy that had cost the life of Politburocrat Nikolai Voznesensky, Soviet Russia's chief economic planner, in 1948-49 (during Stalin's reign). After Khrushchev became First Party Secretary, Secret Police Boss Viktor Abakumov and three subordinates were executed in December 1954 for their role in it. Said Khrushchev menacingly last week: "Malenkov, who was one of the chief organizers of the so-called Leningrad Case, simply was afraid to come to you here in Leningrad." If Malenkov had not actually been afraid for his life before, he had real cause to be now: Khrushchev had laid the basis of a criminal conspiracy charge against him, such as had brought hundreds of Soviet leaders to trial and execution in the past 30 years.

The Path to Power. Nikita Khrushchev, in appearance a man of headlong exuberance, had waited 51 months to make his coup. When it came, it was as unexpected and as ruthless as anything Stalin had done. But there was a world of difference in Khrushchev's approach to power. Whereas Stalin, utterly contemptuous of party or world opinion, had purged the army and party structure wide and deep, Khrushchev had gone to great lengths to establish support among the party rank and file, particularly in the provinces, and to make himself a popular figure with peasants and workers. He had relaxed the police control, freed many prisoners; he had associated himself with such popular projects as better housing, free farming, decentralized industry, and freedom from the threat of war.

His first victory, a few days after Stalin's death (a victory undoubtedly obtained with the support of other Old Communists), had been to ease Stalin Protege Malenkov out of the First Party Secretaryship, and 23 months later to force him to resign the Premiership, pleading incompetence ("My insufficient experience, my guilt and responsibility") on the way. This success may have given Khrushchev the key to his later maneuverings, for they were based on the tactic of winning to his side those people persecuted by Stalin, e.g., Zhukov and other Red marshals, and boldly stigmatizing his old party rivals as associates of the hated Stalin. The fact that he himself had been a Stalin crony apparently did not embarrass Khrushchev. Who in Russia dared point this out?

As far back as his introductory report to the 20th Party Congress in 1956 (TIME, Feb. 27, 1956 et seq.), Khrushchev made passing derogatory references to Molotov's "contemptuous attitude" and to Malenkov's consumer-goods plan ("incorrigible boaster"). In his famous secret, weeping, emotional speech to the same body ten days later, in which he denounced Stalin as a "sickly suspicious," bloodthirsty tyrant, Khrushchev tried to take from Stalin even his chief glory as victor in war, and in doing so, told an anecdote which showed that Malenkov was close to Stalin's side during his most panicky moments of the war.

At this time, Khrushchev dared not make a bid for full power; the cunning and untrusting old hands around the Presidium were united by one resolve--not to let one man get such power over them again. And so the Soviet myth of collective leadership spread. They were all presumably such buddies: "I'm heavy industry, boom, boom!" said Khrushchev at one diplomatic reception. Then he tapped Malenkov on the shoulder: "And Georgy here is light industry, peep, peep!"

First Move. Last summer Khrushchev made a major move against Peep Peep. He produced a plan for reorganizing Soviet industry in a manner that would put the great plants and government enterprises under the control of his own regional and district party chiefs, instead of being centralized in Moscow. He could argue that the Moscow bureaucracy was top-heavy; it is. But Khrushchev had another motive. As Stalin's personnel manager, Malenkov had been largely responsible for building up the industrial technocracy. He had his principal supporters there. Malenkov saw a threat to his own strength, and fought back.

At this point Malenkov may have made common cause with those old Stalinists, Molotov and Kaganovich, neither of whom Malenkov normally would have chosen as allies. They did not like Khrushchev's plan either, and together the three were able momentarily to check Khrushchev's headlong pursuit of power--partly because Khrushchev was also embarrassed by the Hungarian revolt then raging. At the Central Committee meeting last December, Khrushchev's industrial plans were considerably amended. Deputy Premier Saburov, who was State Planner at that time, was replaced by Deputy Premier Pervukhin, but both apparently obstructed Khrushchev's plans--a factor which cost them their Premierships last week.

The final testing of power came at a special meeting of the powerful, 130-odd-man party Central Committee, which lasted from June 22 to June 29. According to Polish Communists (who often have a good pipeline to the Kremlin), Molotov may even have sought the meeting, confident that his side had the top hand. Khrushchev proposed that the first item of the agenda should be the current situation of the Communist Party in the Soviet Union. Molotov countered with the proposal, meant to put Khrushchev on the defensive, that the international position be considered, "in the light of attempted imperialist putschs in Poznan and Hungary," and "its relations with so-called Marxist Parties of Poland, Italy, Japan and the U.S."

Immediately Presidium Member Andrei Kirilenko, a virtual unknown from Sverdlovsk, attacked Molotov, saying that the party conservatives were "responsible for the outcry against the Soviet Union." And in a three-hour speech Khrushchev charged that the Malenkov group, operating from a headquarters in Moscow, with ramifications throughout the Soviet Union and in the Foreign Ministry and Soviet embassies abroad, had frustrated his attempts at a reconciliation with Yugoslavia's Tito in 1954, and had sabotaged his efforts to lull the West with his "relaxation-of-tensions" campaign.

According to Warsaw, Malenkov, Molotov and Kaganovich all spoke during the debate, but on the next-to-last day, seeing the tide turning against them, all joined abjectly in a bout of selfcriticism. To get his unanimous vote of condemnation against them, Khrushchev was reported to have promised his crony Bulganin that sanctions would not be imposed on the four men: i.e., their lives would be spared. If Khrushchev so promised, would he keep that promise now?

The New Faces. Of the old Presidium, only Khrushchev, Bulganin, Voroshilov, Mikoyan, Suslov and Kirichenko remained. Up from the ranks of the alternates came plump, photogenic Ekaterina Furtseva, long a particular Khrushchev favorite, and the first woman ever to reach the Presidium. Along with her came chesty Marshal Zhukov, hero of Berlin, 69-year-old Trade Union Specialist Nikolai Shvernik, Frol Kozlov, a Leningrad party boss who backed up Khrushchev's stand on the Leningrad Case at the 20th Party Congress, and Leonid Brezhnev, who had worked with Khrushchev years ago when he was cleaning out opposition in the Ukraine. Four new faces were added: Otto Kuusinen, 76, a longtime Finnish Communist, Averky Aristov from Chelyabinsk in the Urals, Nikolai Belyaev from the Altai Krai in Siberia, and Nikolai Ignatov, a onetime partisan hero whom Khrushchev had planted in a key spot during the preparation of the Leningrad Case.

The Soldier Moves Up. The rise of Marshal Zhukov, the only real fighting man (except the ancient Voroshilov) admitted to the top Presidium of the party, gave rise to a rash of headlines and a flurry of commentators' speculations on the key role of the Red army. But U.S. specialists on Soviet affairs do not go so far: they point out that Zhukov was just one of five alternates who automatically moved up to fill a vacancy; had the army exacted a special price for its support of Khrushchev, some other marshal would presumably have moved up to alternate. U.S. specialists discount Zhukov's own desire for independence: he has always been an obedient party man.

They think that the Red army, which is honeycombed with watchful political commissars, wants to stay out of party factionalism and power rivalries, and that its professional elite would act in its own right only in case of a patriotic crisis of leadership. Nonetheless, for the first time, U.S. agencies in Washington considered it a possibility that three to five years from now, given further convulsions, Russia might move toward a military dictatorship.

An old plotter like Khrushchev could be counted on to balance off the army with other concentrations of power. He was out to make himself popular, and now had control of the agencies of public opinion. He would take credit where he could, and blame failure on others. His first administrative act after the ouster of his rivals was to announce that collective-farm peasants would no longer have to make compulsory deliveries to the state of the produce they grew in their tiny, private plots. Again and again through the propaganda and speeches ran a curious refrain: the four ousted leaders had opposed Khrushchev's announced intention of boosting production to U.S. levels. In his Leningrad speech last week, Khrushchev shamelessly stole Malenkov's 1953 consumer-goods program: "We want our shops to be filled with many cheap and pretty fabrics and clothes, everything that makes the life of man more beautiful." Below the power struggle at the top there were hungry, supine but restless millions. How were they taking the new purge? They could not care less about the big shots, but they would be affected by the widespread purge of thousands of minor officials and workers, which experience told them inevitably followed a faction fight at the top level. Mindful of the old Russian saying, "When the masters fall out, the serf gets his hair pulled," they were shrinking back into their shells of reserve. New York Timesman Max Frankel went among a crowd near Red Square, asking for opinions on the ouster, got dutiful or noncommittal answers, except from one who snapped: "There is a policeman. Why don't you ask him instead of me?"

*But Molotov stubbornly abstained from voting against his own censure. *Founded and built by Peter the Great (1703) and for 211 years called St. Petersburg; renamed Petrograd at the outbreak of World War I; changed to Leningrad after the death of Lenin in 1924.

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