Foreign News: How the Deed Was Done

Five months ago. when Nikita Khrushchev was engaged in mortal political battle with Malenkov, Molotov and Kaganovich, it was Marshal Georgy Zhukov who came to Khrushchev’s rescue in a crucial session of the Central Committee of the Communist Party. Angered by this intervention, a civilian member of the committee, so the story goes, hotly demanded of Zhukov: “Have you brought your tanks with you?” Replied Zhukov: “If tanks are needed, I will lead them.”

Nikita was grateful then. But from that moment on, Nikita Khrushchev must have known Zhukov had to be destroyed. For if Zhukov could throw his tanks behind Khrushchev, he could also, at some future date, throw them against Khrushchev.

The Unwary Traveler. But not even Khrushchev dared move precipitately against the most popular man in Russia and its greatest living hero. Not until early last month did Khrushchev feel ready to make his move. Then, with all the fanfare due Zhukov’s rank as Defense Minister and a member of the Presidium that rules the Communist Party, the unsuspecting marshal was shipped off on a state visit to Yugoslavia—a trip that was scheduled to last two weeks but was suddenly extended to three when Zhukov unexpectedly got orders to proceed from Yugoslavia to Albania.

While the leonine hero of the U.S.S.R. plodded dutifully through Russia’s least prepossessing satellite, the military press back in Moscow, on an unseen cue, began to publish editorials pointedly attributing Russia’s World War II victory not to its generals but to the “indispensable leadership” of the Communist Party. Political commissars throughout the Soviet armed forces held protest meetings to complain that their authority had been so undermined by line officers that the political education of Soviet troops was being neglected. On the day before Zhukov finally returned, Khrushchev held a meeting with the top brass of the Moscow military district—a meeting at which he apparently disclosed his intention of ousting Zhukov from the Defense Ministry.

No More Promotions. Clearly, Khrushchev planned to kick Zhukov upstairs to some such post as Deputy Premier, thus depriving him of control of the armed forces but at the same time avoiding the risk of a public showdown. Communist newspapers in Europe blossomed out with obviously inspired stories that the marshal was slated for “an important new post.” On the afternoon of Zhukov’s return to Moscow, Tass and Radio Moscow reported his arrival with all the flowery detail they reserve for VIPs.

Zhukov went straight from the airport to a meeting of the Presidium. By late that afternoon it was clear that he had refused to accept the proffered “promotion,” and that the showdown Khrushchev had hoped to avoid was under way. So lengthy was the debate that Khrushchev and other Presidium members who had accepted invitations to an Iranian embassy reception were twice obliged to postpone the hour of their arrival. When they finally did show up, all that came out of the Presidium was the curt announcement that Zhukov had been replaced as Defense Minister by Marshal Rodion Malinovsky. The Tass account of Zhukov’s arrival shrank to three lines in next morning’s edition of Pravda.

The Fearful Civilians. With Zhukov refusing to accept a face-saving reassignment, Khrushchev was left with only two alternatives: either he must back down or he must utterly crush Zhukov.

Articles in the Soviet military press, now firmly under the control of Marshal Malinovsky, immediately took on a more ominous tone. Red Star, the army newspaper, told the sad tale of one Velikolug who was so puffed up by a successful military career that he committed “serious blunders for which he received strict party punishment.” Soviet Fleet, in a similar attack on “swaggering military leaders,” declared that “decisive condemnation should be made of efforts to minimize the role of political organs in the life of the armed forces.” Pointedly, the navy publication added: “No matter what a Communist’s rank, he not only can but must be subjected at party meetings to criticism for dereliction in his work.”

Ever since the Finnish War of 1939, Zhukov had been struggling to reduce the power of the political commissars in the armed forces. Only last April he had finally succeeded in establishing the principle that the commissars must not interfere in purely military decisions. The suggestion that Zhukov was trying to establish personal dominance of the Soviet army was likely to find ready acceptance with Communist Party bureaucrats, ever fearful of a military coup. Khrushchev, having used the threat of Zhukov’s military power to destroy his civilian rivals, was now appealing to the civilian majority of the Central Committee to help him destroy Zhukov.

Other Work. After a week of ominous silence, the Central Committee delivered its verdict in the ritualistic phrases of Communist inquisition: “Comrade Zhukov has violated the Leninist party principles . . . pursued a policy of abolishing the leadership and control of the party over the army and navy . . . proved to be a politically unsound person, inclined toward adventurism . . .

“The cult of Comrade Zhukov’s personality was cultivated in the Soviet army with his personal participation. With the help of sycophants and flatterers his person and his role in the Great Patriotic War were overglorified.”

The Central Committee announced that Zhukov had been dropped forthwith from the Presidium. “The secretariat of the Central Committee has been instructed to provide him with other work.”

Sharing the Blame. The jackals were soon at work. In the Central Committee itself, reported Pravda, many of Zhukov’s oldest and closest military comrades—among them Marshals Timoshenko, Rokossovsky and Sokolovsky—”pointed out the serious shortcomings of Zhukov’s work . . . unanimously condemned his wrong, unpartylike behavior.” Marshal Ivan Konev suddenly discovered that Zhukov shared the blame with Stalin for Soviet reverses early in World War II, did not deserve much credit for the Stalingrad victory, had hindered more than helped at the conquest of Berlin. All in all, Konev concluded, “it would be absurd to affirm Zhukov’s alleged exceptional part in the Great Patriotic War.”

Hiding the Body. The only thing needed to crown the ritual was the culprit’s own confession of guilt—and finally Zhukov duly supplied it. “I admit my mistakes,” he groveled. “I give my word to fully eliminate my shortcomings. The present plenum has been a great party school for me. I deeply regret that only here did I realize the significance of the mistakes which I made, especially recently.” He had even voted for his own expulsion from the Presidium, revealed Pravda.

As yet, there was no word on what “other work” the party had in mind for Zhukov. It scarcely mattered. The deed was done, and Khrushchev was just looking for a place to hide the body.