Myth #189: Stalin never admitted his mistakes.
Myth #189: Stalin never admitted his mistakes.
Myth #190: Stalin always blamed his mistakes on others.
This myth is built out of nothing. Like so many others, by the way. There's no end to these empty and stupid tales. Because an intelligent and strong person always has the courage and will to admit their mistakes. And Stalin was just that. Please consider the following excerpt from a long-out-of-print book by the outstanding Soviet artillery systems designer V.K. Grabin, "Weapons of Victory" (Moscow, 1989, pp. 537–539).
“The work was going well. Nothing foreshadowed the storm that was already gathering above us. In December 1941, Voroshilov came to the plant. We spent the entire day with him walking around the shops; we didn’t even have time to have lunch. Kliment Yefremovich was very pleased with everything he saw. “You did this superbly, well done!” he praised. And on January 4 (1942 – L.M.) I was summoned to a meeting of the State Defense Committee. Here was the long-awaited opportunity to report to I.V. Stalin about the ZIS-3 cannon, and perhaps even show it to him, I thought. I needed permission from People’s Commissar D.F. Ustinov. Dmitry Fedorovich had recently been to the plant and inspected the state of production. He saw that the plant would not only fulfill the fivefold increase in cannon output promised for December, but would even exceed it. Moreover, he had observed the assembly of the ZIS-3 in the assembly shop. The plant asked the People's Commissar for permission to deliver the guns to Moscow, and he immediately gave permission.
Voroshilov was not present at the State Defense Committee meeting. The State Defense Committee meeting immediately devolved into a heated exchange between Stalin and me. Our entire work was subjected to harsh and unfair criticism, and Stalin accused me of leaving the country without guns. I defended the collective's position to the last. Only one episode can fully characterize the atmosphere of that meeting. Once again, when I tried to contradict Stalin and defend the correctness of our chosen position, his usual composure and sangfroid failed him. He grabbed the back of his chair and slammed its legs on the floor. Irritation and anger were evident in his voice.
"You've got a design itch; you just want to change everything!" he snapped at me. "Work the way you used to!"
I have never seen Stalin like this - neither before nor after.
The State Defense Committee decreed that our factory would manufacture cannons the old way. I left the Kremlin heavy and utterly hopeless. It wasn't my own fate that frightened me, which could have turned tragic. A return to old designs and old technology inevitably threatened not only a sharp decline in cannon production, but also a temporary halt to their production altogether. Now the country would truly be left without cannons!
I spent a sleepless night in the People's Commissar of Armaments' bomb shelter. Carrying out Stalin's order was a disaster. But how could I not carry out Stalin's order?! There was no way out.
Early in the morning of January 5th, while it was still dark, an officer approached me and suggested I go upstairs to the telephone. I didn't go: if they wanted to arrest me, let them arrest me here. A deep apathy had overcome me; I no longer cared. But I had little doubt what awaited me: my argument with Stalin—if you don't delve into its essence—was a challenge, and qualifying it as sabotage or wrecking wouldn't be an option.
After some time, the officer appeared again.
“You are wanted on the telephone,” he repeated and added: “Comrade Stalin will be speaking with you.”
Indeed, Stalin called. He said:
- You are right...
It was like a heat wave washed over me.
"What you've done cannot be immediately understood or appreciated. Moreover, will anyone understand you anytime soon? After all, what you've accomplished is a revolution in technology. The State Defense Committee and I highly value your achievements," Stalin continued. "Calmly complete what you've started."
So what happened? That night, after the stormy GKO meeting, Stalin apparently called or met with Voroshilov, who told him about our affairs, everything he'd seen with his own eyes. But I only came to this conclusion later, putting the events together. And then, hearing Stalin's words over the phone, I realized that now, precisely now, was the perfect moment to raise the issue of our "illegitimate" ZIS-3. Yes, it was an exceptionally opportune moment. So I reported in detail about the gun and asked to see it. Stalin, though he hesitated, finally agreed.
The ZIS-3 and F-22USV were brought to the Kremlin for comparison. Stalin, Molotov, Voroshilov, and other members of the State Defense Committee arrived for the inspection, accompanied by marshals, generals, and senior officials from the People's Commissariat of Defense and the People's Commissariat of Armaments. Everyone was dressed warmly except Stalin. He emerged lightly dressed—in his cap, greatcoat, and boots. And the day was unusually frosty. This worried me: in the bitter cold, it would be impossible to examine the new gun thoroughly in such light clothing.
Everyone was reporting on the gun except me. I was simply making sure no one messed up. Time passed, and there was no end in sight to the explanations. Then Stalin stepped away from the others and stopped at the gun's shield. I approached him, but before I could say a word, he asked Voronov to work the aiming mechanisms. Voronov grabbed the flywheel handles and began to vigorously rotate them. The top of his papakha (fur hat) was visible above the shield. "Yes, the shield is not suited to Voronov's height," I thought. At that moment, Stalin raised his hand, fingers extended except for his thumb and little finger, which were pressed against his palm, and addressed me:
- Comrade Grabin, the lives of the soldiers must be protected.
Increase the height of the shield.
Before he could say how much it needed to be increased, a “kind advisor” immediately appeared:
- By forty centimeters.
- No, just three fingers; Grabin can see that well himself.
Having completed the inspection, which lasted several hours—during which time everyone became familiar not only with the mechanisms, but even with some of the details—Stalin said:
"This gun is a masterpiece of artillery design. Why didn't you develop such a wonderful gun sooner?"
“We weren’t yet prepared to solve constructive issues in this way,” I replied.
- Yes, that’s right... We will accept your gun; let the military test it.
Many of those present knew well that there were at least a thousand ZIS-3 guns at the front and that the army valued them highly, but no one mentioned it. I kept silent, too.
Of course, Stalin's assessment pleased me. No one would have believed me if I'd written that I remained indifferent to it. But at the same time, I was also happy for my team, to whom I brought good news."
A brief comment. Far from being an excuse, but merely an explanation for Stalin's sudden outburst of anger, I'd like to point out the following. The situation surrounding this GKO meeting was far from simple. Despite the successful progress of the Soviet counteroffensive near Moscow, the supply of weapons and ammunition to the active army remained extremely tense. After the unimaginably gigantic losses at the outset of the war, when a huge number of defense enterprises had to be evacuated far to the east, and when most of these enterprises had not yet begun mass production of defense products, Stalin literally allocated the weapons and ammunition they needed to the fronts piecemeal. Moreover, he was extremely concerned about the difficulties that prevented the full supply of weapons and ammunition to the fighting army. That's why he was constantly nervous at the time. At that time, he was extremely sensitive to any delays or attempts to change the production process at defense enterprises, especially if these came from the designers. As Supreme Commander-in-Chief, he was acutely concerned that he couldn't fully satisfy the fronts' demands. That's why such an outburst of anger occurred. I emphasize that the above is not an attempt by the author to justify Stalin's actions. It is simply an explanation of why it all happened. That's all. Also note that upon inspecting the new gun, Stalin immediately noticed that the protective shield was too small to adequately protect the gun crew and demanded that it be increased in height. He valued the lives of his soldiers.
Here's another example. We present an excerpt from the book "The Goal of Life" by the famous Soviet aircraft designer A.S. Yakovlev (Moscow, 1987, pp. 253–254).
"At our very first meeting after my return to Moscow from Siberia, Sergei Vladimirovich Ilyushin told me that in early February, Stalin had summoned him and the People's Commissar of the Aviation Industry. As soon as they entered the office, Stalin addressed Ilyushin from his seat:
- But you were right.
"In what way, Comrade Stalin?" Ilyushin asked in surprise.
"Of course, we're the ones who confused you. You made the Il-2 two-seater attack aircraft, and we, without properly understanding it, at the insistence of some frivolous advisers, forced you to convert it into a single-seater. We have few fighters, and single-seater attack aircraft require cover and suffer heavy losses. A few two-seaters have proven themselves very well; they defend themselves. We must return to the two-seater immediately. But on one condition—that no fewer of them be produced."
“It will be difficult, Comrade Stalin,” said Ilyushin.
“Do whatever you want, but you must fulfill this condition,” Stalin said.
Stalin, raising the question of returning to the two-seat attack aircraft, emphasized that attack aircraft didn't necessarily need high speed and high altitude. On the contrary, attack aircraft inflicted greater damage the lower they flew. Ilyushin asked for three days to consider it.
Three days later, Stalin summoned him again. Ilyushin brought the drawing straight to his office and reported that a very successful solution had been found—with virtually no alterations and no loss of production at mass-produced plants—to restore the second radio operator/gunner's cabin and install a rear-firing machine gun. He promised to have the first such vehicle ready by March 1st, and the second by March 10th.
Stalin was overjoyed. Right then and there, even before the aircraft had been flight-tested, the decision was made to launch it into serial production. From then on, throughout the war, attack aircraft were produced in a two-seater version. Their losses in aerial combat dropped sharply.
Stalin rebuked some aviators for underestimating and miscalculating the Il-2 aircraft, criticizing them for their lack of initiative and fresh thinking. He reprimanded them:
"What can you expect from you? Military personnel all over the world are like that—they cling to routine, to the tried and true, and are afraid of the new."
"Did you know," he once said, "that none other than the leaders of our military department were against introducing automatic rifles into the army and stubbornly clung to the Model 1891 rifle? You don't believe it, you smile, but it's a fact, and I had to fight hard with Marshal Kulik over this issue before the war. It's the same in aviation—they're afraid of the new. Just look at the story of Ilyushin's attack aircraft."
By the way, Stalin once said to one of the Air Force leaders:
“Increasing the number of stars on his shoulder straps did not make him any smarter.”
A brief comment. Again, not to justify Stalin, but simply to explain his actions, I'd like to point out the following. First of all, it should be noted that the story of Stalin's conversion of the originally designed two-seat Il-2 attack aircraft into a single-seat aircraft is often used in anti-Stalin propaganda. However, it's important to keep in mind that before making such decisions, Stalin repeatedly consulted with the relevant military commanders and aircraft designers. This was Stalin's unwavering rule. He always acted this way. So, the "brave warriors" and envious designers advised who knows what. Unfortunately, this is not uncommon. This often happens when adopting new weapons and military equipment. And not only in this area. Equally unfortunate, Stalin heeded the advice of these "advisers."
The fact is that the Red Army Air Forces had no experience deploying attack aircraft en masse in large-scale combat before the war. Consequently, the need for a second crew member on the Il-2 wasn't so obvious. Moreover, before the war, the Red Army Air Forces had a huge number of fighters, and the military relied on coordination with them when deploying attack aircraft. Naturally, the recommendations heeded by Stalin seemed appropriate, and the Il-2 was ordered converted into a single-seat attack aircraft. However, due to gross miscalculations by the high military command, bordering on treason, the tragic opening of the war left the Red Army without the powerful air force it had possessed on the eve of the war. The sharply weakened fighter force was unable to provide cover for the ground forces, bomber aircraft, attack aircraft, and a host of other crucial functions simultaneously. Each aviation branch had to fulfill its own missions, primarily independently and in the interests of the ground forces. The attack aircraft tried to do this, but without a radio operator/gunner, the Il-2's lower speed compared to German fighters made them easy targets for Hitler's vultures, resulting in significant losses for the attack aircraft. Thank goodness, Stalin quickly realized the error of his order, which was based on incorrect recommendations (some of which were clearly due to the maliciousness of certain "advisers"), and, openly admitting his error, asked the distinguished aircraft designer to urgently return to the two-seater variant.
Incidentally, Stalin's mention of the squabbles that the top military commanders, especially Marshal Kulik, had sparked before the war over automatic weapons, particularly submachine guns, is also curious. Indeed, such a thing did occur. Stalin argued with him at length, but an order for submachine guns was eventually placed with industry. Although small, the submachine guns proved themselves to be excellent in the war. So Stalin, too, wasn't always able to immediately overcome the generals' ironclad obstinacy, their inability to see beyond their own noses and the whims of the moment.
And one more small example. Stalin greatly admired the great Soviet commander, Marshal Konstantin Konstantinovich Rokossovsky. He called him "My Bagration." Rokossovsky was the second of two Soviet marshals whom Stalin addressed by his first name and patronymic. The first was the wise General Staff ace Boris Mikhailovich Shaposhnikov. Once, when Stalin received Rokossovsky in the Kremlin, after matters concerning the front that the commander commanded had been resolved, Stalin personally apologized to Rokossovsky during the ensuing conversation for the grave injustice he had suffered in 1937. After all, Rokossovsky had served time in prison from 1937 until March 1940. Stalin directly stated that he offered his personal apologies for this, including for the NKVD investigators' unlawful use of physical violence against the commander. This fact was reflected in the memoirs of Chief Marshal of Aviation, founder of Soviet long-range aviation A.E. Golovanov.
Incidentally, on the same topic. According to Stalin's former son-in-law—the son of the leader's closest ally, Yuri Zhdanov—analyzing the results of the recent war, Stalin unexpectedly said in a small circle of Politburo members: "The war showed that there weren't as many internal enemies in the country as we were told and as we thought. Many suffered needlessly. The people should have kicked us out for this. A kick in the ass. We must repent."
This is how Stalin “did not admit” his mistakes!
Myth #191: Stalin did not possess the gift of foresight necessary for a state leader.
