I decided to act immediately, without even making preliminary contact with Moscow. First of all, I sent off my reply to Winterton’s slander to the press, and then I asked Halifax for a meeting. He received me at 5 p.m.

Having familiarized the foreign minister with the content of Winterton’s speech, I made the following statement: ‘Recently, certain high-ranking individuals in Britain and France, including some who hold high public office, and even ministerial positions, have been spreading lies and slander about the USSR’s stance on the issue of Czechoslovakia. These fabrications basically boiled down to two points: (1) the USSR has no intention of fulfilling its obligations under the Soviet–Czechoslovak pact and (2) the USSR cannot fulfil its obligations owing to the weakness of the Red Army and deficiencies in the Soviet air force.’

Halifax had been listening to me silently and motionlessly, but at this point he stirred a little, made a gesture with his hand and nodded as if to say: ‘Yes, I too have heard rumours of this sort.’

I went on: ‘The purport of the slander being disseminated by the persons I have mentioned is absolutely clear. They simply wanted to shift the blame from the sick to the healthy party and make it seem as if the responsibility for the systematic retreat of Britain and France before the aggressors, culminating in Munich, lies with the USSR. I had thought that Litvinov’s speech in the League of Nations on 21 September and the recent debates in the British parliament had delivered a fatal blow to all these rumours. I had assumed that now every British citizen, let alone every Cabinet minister, could be in no doubt that the USSR had never had anything to do either with the policies that led to Munich or with the Munich Agreement itself, which, I am deeply convinced, will bear catastrophic consequences for peace in our days and will be severely condemned by history. So it is all the more astonishing to hear those slanderous fabrications repeated publicly by Lord Winterton, a responsible Cabinet minister! In view of the aforesaid, I consider it my duty to lodge a protest against the speech made by the chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster.’

Halifax heard my statement calmly and then, turning slightly to towards me, said that he acknowledged the validity of my protest and understood my reasons. Unfortunately, British politicians sometimes take the liberty of saying too much. Halifax regrets Winterton’s speech, all the more so as mutual reproaches and accusations concerning things that have already happened and cannot be changed needlessly aggravate relations. Meanwhile, as he assured me on 29 September and later confirmed in the House of Lords on 3 October, the British government wishes to maintain good relations with the USSR. Even if the British government has to conduct further separate talks with Germany and Italy, it certainly does not intend to exclude the USSR from attempts to resolve common European problems. Halifax concluded by adding that he would immediately contact Winterton and take measures to prevent such incidents in future.

I replied that the USSR also aims to maintain good relations with Britain, but it has to reckon not with kind words and assurances but with concrete facts.

Halifax pondered for a minute, as if he were turning over my words in his mind. Then he uttered slowly: ‘That is a very wise and reasonable approach.’

I smiled to myself, and said that, recalling recent developments, especially Munich, I cannot be sure that it will be so easy to maintain those good relations between the USSR and Britain which, according to Halifax, his government desires. Not because we shall try to erect any obstacles, but because the facts, including the Munich Agreement, have a logic of their own.

I was already preparing to leave, thinking that my mission had been accomplished, when Halifax, apparently provoked by my last remark, stopped me and began to speak: ‘It seems to me that you, like many others in Europe, do not understand England’s position clearly enough. We think that nowadays the world is witnessing the struggle of two ideological fronts – fascism and communism. We, the English, support neither one nor the other. Moreover, we dislike both. We have our own notions and institutions, developed over centuries. We do not want to change them for anything else. In the struggle between the two fronts, we occupy a neutral or, if you please, a middle position. It is precisely for this reason that we are misunderstood so often on the continent and attacked so frequently from both sides.’

I have heard this ‘philosophy’ of the cowardly Brits a thousand times already, and I had little difficulty finding the necessary arguments in reply. I remarked with a hint of mockery that the notorious ‘anti-Comintern pact’, which was supposedly geared primarily against the USSR, was so far operating against China, Spain, Czechoslovakia, Abyssinia, and against the interests of the British and French empires.

Maisky’s ironic comments were later adopted almost verbatim by Stalin in his famous ‘Chestnuts’ speech of March 1939, see commentary following the diary entry for 12 March 1939.

On the other hand, we had good relations with Italy over a period of 11 years (1924–1935) despite our polarized ‘ideologies’. These were ruined only when Italy embarked upon the path of external aggression – against Abyssinia and Spain. That is no accident. Current developments in the world signify not the struggle of two ideological fronts, but the struggle of two trends in foreign policy: aggression and peace. One cannot remain betwixt and between in this situation. One cannot be lukewarm. Anyone trying to hold a neutral position in the struggle between aggression and peace objectively encourages aggression and, in the long run, will suffer most of all. I gave Munich as an illustration: it has presented Hitler with the opportunity to set up ‘Mitteleuropa’ in the shortest possible time, and this is fraught with the gravest consequences not only for the cause of peace, but for Great Britain itself.

‘Well, should I understand,’ Halifax interrupted me, ‘that you would like to ward off German expansion in South-East Europe by war?’

‘Not by war,’ I replied, ‘but by pursuing a sound policy. Why do you always frighten people with war? War can and must be avoided, if timely measures are taken. Unfortunately, neither England nor France has been willing to take such measures. All illnesses are easier to cure at an early stage. If the illness is neglected, then the moment may come when, in spite of the most desperate efforts, and in spite of the doctor’s sincere sympathy, the patient will die.’

My words clearly made an impression on Halifax for he suddenly interrupted me and, nodding in consent, observed: ‘Even surgery may not help.’

After a moment’s pause, Halifax went on: ‘Let us assume that Germany will form its “Mitteleuropa”, which is quite probable in my mind. What will it do next?’

I smiled to myself again and, fully aware of the true meaning of Halifax’s question, replied: ‘Naturally, Hitler will turn to the west!’

‘Why do you think so?’ Halifax asked.

I put forward a few arguments to support my notion, which I had advanced more than once in my talks with the English (for instance, in my conversation with Churchill last March), and concluded by saying: ‘Hitler is afraid of a big war. He prefers bloodless victories. Judging by the experience of recent years, he knows how to win them without firing a shot. Why? It is certainly not because he is especially strong. Britain and France are basically much stronger than Germany. Hitler scores his bloodless victories because he is an expert at fraying one’s nerves. His nerves are stronger than yours. That’s why you lose one game after another. But Hitler is well aware that this method would not work in the east, that is, against the USSR. The Soviet government’s nerves are yet stronger than Hitler’s. If he tried his luck at the expense of the USSR, he wouldn’t get away with bluffing. He would have to fight, to fight in earnest. And without any hope of ultimate success. What for? Wouldn’t it be simpler and easier to head west where, to all appearances, Munich is far from being his last bloodless victory?’

Halifax made not so much as a sound or a movement in dissent. Then, after a long silence, he asked: ‘What do you think Hitler will play for next?’

‘The colonies,’ I answered without a moment’s hesitation.

Halifax nodded and said: ‘I think so, too.’

On parting, I asked whether the British government considers Mussolini’s promise to evacuate 10,000 volunteers an adequate price for the ratification of the Anglo-Italian agreement.

Halifax seemed almost to choke and began saying something obscure and vague.

It’s quite clear: the British government is preparing another betrayal of Spain.

Maisky’s dismissal of Halifax’s ideologized outlook on Soviet foreign policy is confirmed and further elaborated in Halifax’s own report; TNA FO 371 21745 C12100/1941/18.