Short History of World War II - James L. Stokesbury [93]
Especially for an ally of Stalinist Russia.
Unlike the Americans, insulated with a large ocean to either side of them, the Russians are a people often invaded. One of the dominant themes of Russian history is fear: the fear of the outsider, the invader, the conqueror—or the would-be conqueror, for though many have tried, few have succeeded. The Tartars did from the east, and the Vikings from the north, but in modern times a whole series of westerners has failed to overwhelm Russia. Charles the Great of Sweden, Napoleon, Wilhelmine Germany, assorted Poles, all have come to grief in the vastness of the Russian plain. All they left in Russia were their bones, their military reputations, and a deep residue of distrust for the West among the Russian people and leaders.
When to this historical relationship is added the ideological problems of communism, and its outcast status among the nations of the world, the basis of Russian fear becomes readily obvious. No matter that every challenge from the West had ultimately resulted in a westward extension of Russian territory and influence; such extensions were achieved only at the cost of untold suffering and misery, and over the centuries the Russians developed a love-hate relation with western Europe, wanting the material and political advantages enjoyed by the West, fearing western power and aggressiveness.
As a country of immense potential, much of it still latent in the 1940’s, Russia’s role in the war fluctuated wildly. She did her best to avoid it as long as she could. When finally invaded, she came within a few miles or a few days of total disaster. Until the end of 1942, it looked as though she might still succumb. While the danger was pressing, the Russians were comfortable allies, grateful for the help the Western Powers could or would accord them. From 1943 on, as Russia’s situation improved, her demands increased. She claimed, truthfully enough, that she was bearing the brunt of the fighting. Without a great navy, she discounted British efforts at sea; without a strategic air force, she paid little account to the western Allied air offensive. The Russians chose to count as meaningful only what they had most of, soldiers on the ground fighting the Germans. More difficult allies as they were more successful, the Russians fought the war on their own terms; they paid an immense price for their victory, but in the end they got most of what they wanted.
At least part of that was the result of the fact that Joseph Stalin was unhampered by the limitations that beset Churchill or Roosevelt. There was no domestic opposition in Russia; it had all been liquidated in the purges before the war. Stalin was not only a ruthless, crafty leader—they all were, in their ways—he was also able to set his own goals and follow them or abandon them as the needs of the moment dictated. He knew what he wanted, and as the war progressed, Russia was in a position to achieve his aims.
Those were, in their simplest sense, to gain as great a buffer zone as possible between Russia and her potential enemies. He wanted to ruin both Germany and Japan as possible rivals; happily the United States was going to ruin Japan, and Russia, if she played her cards right, would reap the benefits while doing little of the work. She could concentrate her efforts on Germany, and on creating a Russian-controlled ring of satellites, Communist-run, in central Europe. An age-old problem of any state is to find a defensible frontier. Russia is relatively defensible from the Neimen, better from the Oder, and in fantastic shape if her frontier is on the