Review of Anne Applebaum, Iron Curtain: The Crushing of Eastern Europe 1944-1956, USA: Doubleday, 2012
07 January 2013
By Eric Walberg
The period following WWII in eastern Europe is
considered to be a black one, best forgotten. All the
pre-war governments had been quasi-fascist
dictatorships which either succumbed to the Nazi
onslaught (Poland) or actively cooperated with the
Germans (Hungary, Romania, Bulgaria). The Soviet
liberation was greeted with trepidation by many – with
good reason for the many collaborators. Within a few
years of liberation, eastern Europe was ruled by
austere regimes headed by little Stalins.
As in France and Italy, women who consorted with the
Germans were treated with contempt. There was a rash
of rape as millions of Soviet soldiers filled the
vacuum left before the post-war occupation structures
were established. The Soviet soldiers had been
motivated by an intense hatred of the Nazis, and their
revenge was worse than that of the American, British
etc soldiers, none of whom at lost their loved ones
and homes or had faced invasion of their homelands.
The chaos did considerable damage to post-war
relations and soured the prospect of building
socialism to many who otherwise would have given the
new order that was imposed on them a chance. 'Imposed'
is certainly the operational word, as the Soviets gave
security and policing to their local communist allies.
As in all wars, there were no winners (except those
lucky soldiers who emerged unscathed with lots of
booty). The east European communists had been
decimated by Stalin's pre-war purges. The liberal and
rightwing forces were persecuted. War does not
discriminate between good and bad property. As in all
upheavals, farsighted bad guys step forward, play
along on the winning side, and reap their rewards.
Given this deadly scenario and the subsequent Cold
War, it is surprising just how much positive resulted
from the Soviet occupation of eastern Europe, and
despite author Anne Applebaum's unremitting
anti-communism (her Gulag won the Pulitzer Prize in
2003), it keeps peaking through her Iron Curtain.
Applebaum focuses on Poland, Hungary and East Germany,
clearly because they experienced uprisings following
Stalin's death in 1953 (sparked by liberal reforms
that spun out of control instigated by – of all people
– NKVD chief Lavrenti Beria). They are very different
cultures and their post-war experiences are very
different, despite following a scenario written in
Moscow, including both the good (social welfare and
anti-capitalism) and the bad ('red terror' and
dogmatic imitation of Stalinism).
She drew on dozens of personal interviews of east
Europeans who were either key figures in the period of
'high Stalinism' as she calls it or simply people who
lived their lives, worked and supported (or didn't)
the regime they lived under, and now in their waning
years, were glad to reflect on what happened, how they
functioned. Appelbaum's husband is Polish Foreign
Minister Radoslaw Sikorski, and her treatment of
Poland is particularly detailed.
Yes, people were persecuted unjustly, though it was
mostly leading political figures who suffered, or
people who refused to read the writing on the wall and
spoke out (heroically or foolishly, a judgment call)
during the wave of purges which began in the late
1940s. Two cardinals' experiences are of interest: the
Polish Stefan Wyszynski and the Hungarian Jozsef
Mindszenty.
The former compromised with the communists, and only
went to prison briefly in September 1953, telling a
fellow priest: "Workers, peasants, intellectuals, all
kinds of people from all over the nation are in
prison, it's good that the primate and priests are in
prison too, since out task is to be with the nation."
He remained under house arrest until 1956.
Mindszenty refused any compromise with the
authorities, instead firing off insults guaranteed to
infuriate them. He demanded in that the Hungarian
church receive US aid directly at a time when the
gathering Cold War made this impossible. He publicly
pontificated: "The American donations were a sign of
the all-embracing solidarity of the world Church.
World Bolshevism did not like them at all." As a
result of one broadside after another, he was given a
life sentence for treason in a 1949 show trial that
generated worldwide condemnation, including a UN
resolution. Freed in the Hungarian Revolution of 1956,
he was granted political asylum and lived in the US
embassy in Budapest for 15 years, and finally allowed
to leave the country in 1971.
Wyszynski's 1950 secret agreement with the authorities
allowed the Church to keep much of its property,
separated church from politics, prohibited religious
indoctrination in public schools, and allowed
authorities to select a bishop from 3 candidates
presented. This pact is arguably better than the
agreement, say, the French church has. And Karol
Wojtyla was selected by the communists as bishop.
What comes through in the interviews is just how
positive the whole post-war period was for the
majority of the people, how the communist program gave
great opportunities to the vast majority in education,
work and health care. How despite the 'high Stalin'
show trials and inanities of the period, such as the
slavish naming of a new socialist town Sztalinvaros in
Hungary, a then-young worker on a woman's brigade now
remembers trudging through the mud and living in damp
barracks "with immense nostalgia", though she later
became somewhat disillusioned as an activist. (She
protested – and was chastised for it – against the
campaign to convince workers to go into debt to buy
'Peace Bonds' which she saw as just a hidden tax.)
Just as the communists created myths and enshrined
them in their history books at the time, the victors
in the Cold War are now writing their own version of
history. Yes, Warsaw's wedding cake Palace of Culture,
a 'gift' from Stalin, and nearby dreary apartment
blocks, spoiled the skyline. But the communists also
had the old city in Warsaw meticulously reconstructed.
And how to explain Alexander Dymschitz, head of the
cultural division of the Soviet Military
Administration in post-war Berlin, who insisted that
artists get the coveted "first" ration card, a larger
piece of bread and more meat and vegetables? Asked
why, Dymschitsz declared, "It is possible that there
is a Gorki among you. Should his immortal books remain
unwritten, only because he goes hungry?"
The whole socialist 'experiment' in eastern Europe
lasted only four short decades, and considering the
animosity of the West (and many locals), was a
remarkable success in raising economic and cultural
standards. Applebaum sneers at the trials of
"wreckers" and saboteurs, but from day one, the US and
its by-then subservient client states in western
Europe repressed their own communists, and the CIA
waged an undeclared war on the socialist bloc,
parachuting in émigrés to blow up bridges, wreck
equipment and even spread crop diseases.
Applebaum's meticulous research stopped when it comes
to any of this, though there is lots of documentation.
For example, the CIA funded Ukrainian fascist leader
Mykola Lebed (a Nazi collaborator and murderer of Jews
and Poles) from 1949–91 to carry out black ops against
the Soviet Union from his front organization Prolog in
New York. According to CIA director Allen Dulles, he
was "of inestimable value to this Agency and its
operations".
The most spectacular instance of US subversion in the
Cold War was the 1980s CIA plan to sabotage the
economy of the Soviet Union. A KGB turncoat gained
access to Russian purchase orders and the CIA slipped
in the flawed software, which triggered "the most
monumental non-nuclear explosion and fire ever seen
from space". The KGB never practised this kind of
black ops, despite hysterical propaganda to the
contrary.
Neither does Applebaum admit the real state of opinion
in eastern Europe about this whole period. An October
2010 poll in Berlin among former East Germans revealed
that 57% defend the overall record of the former East
Germany and 49% agreed that "the GDR had more good
sides than bad sides. There were some problems, but
life was good there." Only 30% of Ukrainians approve
of the change to democracy (vs 72% in 1991), 60% of
Bulgarians believe the old system was better. The
disastrous effects of the collapse of the Soviet Union
on life expectancy, especially of men, which fell from
64 to 58, is well known.
Compare this with the 60% of Americans in 2010 who
said they feel the country is on the wrong track
(albeit down from 89% in 2008 during the closing days
of Bush II rule).
Iron Curtain also ignores the devastating effect of
the collapse of the socialist bloc had on the world at
large. By unleashing the free market from the 1980s
on, inequality between the richest and poorest nations
increased from 88:1 (1970) to 267:1 (2000). The US was
henceforth able to invade countries everywhere at
will, as indeed it has done, killing millions of
innocent people and patriots now dismissed as the
‘enemy'. But this is of no concern to Applebaum from
her comfortable perch in Thatcherite London at the
Legatum Institute, nor of her staunchly anti-communist
hubbie in Warsaw. Nor of other rewriters, financed by
the likes of Soros's Open Institutes.
What is most irritating in Iron Curtain, apart from
its cliched Churchillian title, is its assumption that
all readers will accept that the term ‘totalitarian'
applies – uniquely – to the socialist bloc, that
"totalitarian education would eliminate dissent; that
civic institutions, once destroyed, could not be
rebuilt; that history, once rewritten, would be
forgotten." A 1956 US National Intelligence Estimate
made just months before the collapse of the Hungarian
communist order, predicted gloomily (and a tad
enviously) that over time dissidence in eastern Europe
would be worn down "by the gradual increase in the
number of Communist-indoctrinated youth".
The alert reader, unburdened by "Intelligence", will
find many such glaring hints that 'totalitarian'
really has much more to do with the West, with its
seductive materialist 'me' culture, fashioning people
oblivious to the welfare of their society. Post-WWII
western Europe was promised apple pie in the sky, and
got it thanks to the Marshall Plan aimed at winning
the new Cold War. Once the socialist bloc was no
longer, the apple pie disappeared, as we see in the
collapse of living standards across Europe (the US as
well), there being no competition anymore to the real
totalitarian system, where protests are easily
absorbed.
Not so the dictatorships of eastern Europe, which were
brittle, far from totalitarian. The spontaneous
re-emergence of unsanctioned institutions in Hungary
after the death of Stalin is particularly impressive.
The "totalitarian personalities" that Applebaum
conceives of are rather found every day in Walmart
queues or on 4th of July celebrations.
While young Poles, Germans and Hungarians were at the
forefront of their new socialist orders, they were
also – just as in the West – at the forefront of
rebellion against what many saw as the stifling status
quo. For the most part, Polish bikiniarze or Hungarian
jampecek, the counterparts of American rockers and
British teddy boys, hadn't experienced the horrors of
the war, had little sense of the 1930s as a period of
communist ferment, and found western mass consumer
culture much more appealing than the modest socialist
one stressing personal responsibility and solidarity
with the victims of imperialism around the world.
Jazz and western styles became ideological tools,
especially in East German, with RIAS (Radio in the
American Sector) broadcasting from West Berlin, and
West Germany sheet music made available for the East's
dance bands. At a German composers' conference in
1951, an East German musicologist denounced "American
entertainment kitsch" as a "channel through which the
poison of Americanism penetrates and threatens to
anaesthetize the minds of workers", embodying "the
degenerate ideology of American monopoly capital with
its lack of culture, its empty sensationalism and
above all its fury for war and destruction." We are
supposed to laugh at this, but this critique sounds
even more cogent today, and could be taken from a
Salafist newspaper in Egypt or a leftist tract in the
US.
When the baby boom hit especially Czechoslovakia in
the 1960s, it resulted in an explosion of creative
energy, and a delayed unraveling of the by-then
tattered 'high Stalinism' there, but once again
context intervened. In retrospect, if the Prague
Spring had been allowed to blossom, Czechoslovakia
would have been quickly absorbed by the West, and the
Cold War eastern dominoes would have fallen much
sooner.
But 1968 was the high point of European social
democracy, and who knows what might have resulted from
a melding of the two systems at that time? That the
fall came in 1990 at the height of neoliberalism meant
that capitalism at its totalitarian worst called all
the shots, and there is little to crow about by the
99% of us – East or West. Alas, this is far from the
minds of the neoliberal victors as they churn out
their history books.
*** Eric Walberg is author of Postmodern Imperialism:
Geopolitics and the Great Games http://claritypress.com/Walberg.html
. You can reach him at http://ericwalberg.com/