Romania, like Poland, expressed concerns to London that any formal security treaty involving the USSR would provoke Hitler’s wrath against them. Viscount Halifax, according to the well-informed Maisky, told Polish ambassador Raczyński that “the Soviet proposal, though serious, went further than the British government was prepared to go.” Indeed, already on April 19, according to notes of a meeting of the British government’s foreign policy committee taken by Sir Alexander Cadogan (who had replaced Robert Vansittart as the top foreign office bureaucrat), London had decided to reject the Soviet proposal without directly conveying as much. British officials reasoned that the Soviet military was in no position to extend support beyond its borders, and that friends of Britain would erupt in fury at an alliance with the bloody Communist menace. Cadogan, however, did note the risk, albeit “remote,” that an outright British rejection of the Soviet proposal might provoke a Soviet-German agreement. He also deemed the Soviet proposal politically awkward. “We have taken the attitude that the Soviets preach us sermons on ‘collective security’ but make no practical proposals,” Cadogan observed. “They have now made such, and they will rail at us for turning them down. And the Left in this country may be counted on to make the most of this.”230
The British stalled any formal response, cloaking rejection in the form of “comments” (as a German official in London noted).231 Litvinov had written to Merekalov in early April 1939, regarding Britain and France, that “later, our help will be sought, which will cost them more dearly, and they will have to recompense us.”232 But on April 19 and 21, Stalin convoked angry meetings in the Little Corner, having had the envoys to Britain (Maisky), Germany (Merekalov), and France (Surits) recalled. (Potyomkin, evidently protecting Surits, had him send a subordinate.)233 Especially at the second session, on April 21, “collective security” was eviscerated.234 “The atmosphere was strained to an extreme,” recalled Maisky. “Although outwardly Stalin appeared calm, puffing on his pipe, it was evident he was extremely ill-disposed toward Litvinov.” After almost six years, “collective security” had gotten nowhere. Litvinov evidently had written a resignation letter, though he did not submit it. “Molotov became vicious,” Maisky added, “attacking Litvinov unremittingly, accusing him of every mortal sin.”235 Merekalov had been summoned to the April 21 meeting only for the last of the four hours. Fresh from meeting in Berlin with Weizsäcker, he insisted that Soviet-German rapprochement was possible; after all, Hitler needed Soviet neutrality. The British had still not replied to the Soviet offer of a Triple Alliance, but on April 26 they informed
SEIZING FOREIGN AFFAIRS
Ten years younger than the despot, Molotov was the second-most-senior member of the inner circle. He could play violin and took tango lessons (with Voroshilov), though he stammered and was infamous for being mulish. But he had never belonged to a party opposition or the Mensheviks, let alone fought for the Whites or worked in bourgeois counterintelligence (like Beria) and, almost uniquely, was completely untainted. There had been, essentially, just that March 1936 botched