1963-1971: Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn (Conservative and Unionist)
The patriot who brought the world to the brink of total war
Writing from London whilst the world was teetering on the precipice of the Vladivostok Crisis, the Ukrainian dissident, Leonid Brezhnev, decried the right-wing Solzhenitsyn as “the worst of all worlds - a populist, demagogic proponent of Russian exceptionalism, convinced of little beyond his own self-righteousness.” Although many of Brezhnev’s words can be dismissed as primarily motivated by ideology (the Ukrainian nationalists having never forgiven the government in Moscow for abetting the division of the country between the European-leaning Kingdom of Galicia and the Russian Guberniya of Sloboda), there can be little doubt of Solzhenitsyn’s tendency towards division and confrontation. Even today, his legacy is disputed. On one hand, he continued the sustained economic transformation of the country into a modern, thrusting, world power, but also did with a tendency towards reactionary behaviour, pandering to the far-right and an undercurrent of anti-Semitism.
Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn (it was under him that Transliteration replaced Translation in foreign communiqués) enjoyed a sudden rise to power. Born into the chaos of the post-revolutionary world in the southern city of Kislovodsk, he joined the army, serving with distinction on the Trans-Amur Front. In the summer of 1943, he commanded an artillery detachment attacking Manchurian positions and was personally decorated for gallantry by Director Wrangel. Injured in the meatgrinder of Blagoveshchensk, where the Russian advance towards the Pacific had been deflected southwards, he recovered and later became a diplomatic attaché in time for the peace talks in Xi’an that ended the Great Pacific War. The continued existence of the Far Eastern Republic had been a continued source of embarrassment for Petrograd, and later Moscow. The secession of Siberia had ended all chances of a rapid re-capture of the errant province, whilst Tokyo was eager to add Vladivostok to her collection of strategic ports on the mainland. When the fall of the Japanese Empire came in 1944, the region had been thoroughly transformed into an Eastern-facing, if still Russian-majority nation.
For Solzhenitsyn, the very existence of the the country was a sign of Russia’s comparative weakness towards the west, an unpleasant reminder of the so-called “lost decades” that had resulted from the economic growth that had been lost thanks to the legacy of the European War and the 1917 Revolution. Throughout his first term in office (which, thanks to governing as a minority, was always a dicey one), the Prime Minister did little to antagonise the west. Instead, he helped to consolidate his power-base within the coalition, making every effort to form a unified political movement. Although he was unable to achieve this by the time the 1967 election came around, it was still sufficient for him to win a majority against the still-divided Liberals.
Although the government in Khabarovsk had been the focus of a tremendous propaganda campaign to re-incorporate it into the Republic, little headway had been made. Two plebiscites, one held in the aftermath of the Treaty of Xi’an, one a decade later after Stravinsky’s successful lobbying of the League of Nations, had both endorsed the status quo. Although neither was held under truly fair conditions, it is unlikely that the six missing ballot boxes from Chita in 1955 would have been enough to swing the vote the other way. Nevertheless, when Solzhenitsyn’s Rightist coalition won re-election at the 1968 General Election, the phrase “Third Time Lucky” was soon being whispered throughout the Foreign Ministers of Europe and Asia.
In his “Integrity Speech” of April 3rd 1968, the new Prime Minister gave an extended monologue about his perceptions of the territorial disputes that continued to plague international security. He was joined at the speech by the French Premier, Jean-Jacques Servan-Schreiber, who had been elected on a groundswell of support for his opposition to the Elsass-Lothringen Referendum after a third of the territory chose to return to the Reich. In a ninety minute monologue that was less a statement of intent and more a declaration of war - the Premier announced that the port of Vladivostok would be blockaded by Russian vessels unless the regional authorities made efforts to return to the Motherland.
The announcement shocked the world. Within the space of two hours, Russia had threatened to bring about yet another conflict in Eurasia. As the telegrammes flew between London, Berlin and Washington, the Northern Fleet sailed from Murmansk. Although the Duma was soon filled with the shouts of “Avenge Tsushima!” and “Unite the Motherland!” cooler heads were already expressing the need for caution. As the destroyers and cruisers hugged the Siberian coastline and the atomkraft submarines duelled with their Royal Navy counterparts underneath the pack-ice, opposition politicians were meeting with League representatives in Formosa. President Udall – in an early sign that the United States was rousing herself from isolationism - attended in person, whilst Chancellor Seebohm and Barbara Castle mobilised the reservists and send joint-expeditionary forces to assist the Polish border army.
Thankfully, saner heads prevailed. On 15th June, when the lead vessel were in sight of Vladivostok proper, the order came for the fleet to about turn. Solzhenitsyn had blinked first, although he was later vindicated when Khabarovsk agreed to hold a referendum just for the people of the port city. By a narrow margin, but enough to rule out all but the most egregious tempering, Vladivostok chose to become an autonomous region of the Russian Republic on 1st October. In so doing, Solzhenitsyn could claim credit for finally giving Moscow a Pacific coastline again. The fact that there was still several hundred miles of another country in the way did little to dent his popularity.
It would be prejudice that would eventually signal the end of the Solzhenitsyn government. Whilst attending a fundraising dinner several weeks before the 1971 election, a reporter overheard the Premier making an off-colour joke about the Leader of the Opposition’s Jewish heritage. Whilst there is little to suggest that Solzhenitsyn was any more of an anti-Semite than many men of his generation, it went down poorly amongst the swing voters who had been prepared to back the Conservatives during the Vladivostok Crisis. A late swing against the government on the eve of polling was enough to allow the Liberals to form a minority government in coalition with the Agrarian Party.
Today, Solzhenitsyn is a controversial figure in Russia. On one hand, he is remembered fondly as an unashamed patriot, who valued the territorial unity of the state. On the other, he was a person of limited subtleties, who failed to bring about the “last, great push” towards a western-standard of living. Nevertheless, his legacy can be seen whenever one visits the memorial dedicated to him just outside the city that he brought back into the Republic. A vast emblem of Motherhood that stands on a hill outside Vladivostok, one arm facing the endless sea of the Pacific, the other pointing directly towards Moscow. For Solzhenitsyn, it is a sign of the Russia that he believed in, and the one that he helped to create.