Procesul comunismului

Scott McLemee despre Jurnalul lui Milovan Djilas "Conversations with Stalin"

One part of Milovan Djilas’s Conversations with Stalin lingers in the memory well after the rest of the book fades. The author himself calls it “a scene such as might be found only in Shakespeare’s plays.” Actually, it does have its parallels to Rabelais, as well; for like many another gathering of the Soviet elite amidst the privations of World War II that Djilas recounts, there is an enormous feast, and a marathon drinking session.

This particular miniature carnival occurs in the final months of the war. Stalin is hosting a reception at the Kremlin for the Yugoslavian delegation. But before the partying begins, he must disburden himself; for Stalin has heard that Djilas (who would later become vice president under Marshall Tito) has criticized the behavior of some units of the Red Army as it has made its way across Europe.

“Does Djilas, who is himself a writer, not know what human suffering and the human heart are?” cries Stalin. “Can’t he understand it if a soldier who has crossed thousands of kilometers through blood and fire and death has fun with a woman or takes a trifle?”

By “having fun,” he was referring to well over two million rapes, by Soviet soldiers, of women of all ages and backgrounds. The very indiscriminateness of the sexual violence gives the lie to the idea that it was revenge for the suffering inflicted by the Germans. Inmates liberated from Nazi concentration camps were raped as well.

As for Djilas, it must have seemed, for a moment, as if Stalin’s outburst were the kiss of death. Luckily for him, the dictator’s mood changed. “He proposed frequent toasts,” recalls the author, “flattered one person, joked with another, teased a third, kissed my wife because she was a Serb, and again shed tears over the hardships of the Red Army and Yugoslav ingratitude.”

Perhaps in response to the criticism, Stalin issued a command that soldiers behave themselves. The Soviet officers read the proclamation to their troops with a smirk. Everyone knew it meant nothing. Boys will be boys.