At first it looked as though the session could be wrapped up on 24 or 25 May. The various items on the agenda could have been settled in a single meeting. We ended up discussing them over two sessions for no good reason. Of the political issues, two were of greater significance – China and the Äland Islands. Taking past experience into account, I raised the Chinese question at the very first meeting on 22 May. A commission to draft a Chinese resolution was then elected and the resolution was submitted on 24 May, but it was a poor one, because the British and the French refused to agree to the setting up of the coordinating committee which the Chinese insisted on (I supported the Chinese throughout). Nevertheless, one way or another, the Chinese issue was dealt with. Only the Äland question remained, and that’s where we got stuck.

The gist of it was as follows. In January, Finland and Sweden requested permission from all members of the 1921 Äland Convention to fortify the southern part of the archipelago. This had received unanimous consent by the time the Council convened. On 21 January, the Finns and the Swedes sent us a note as well, to ask not for our consent to the fortification of the Äland Islands, but only for our support during discussion of the matter at the League of Nations. Prior to the session, the Soviet government had not given the Finns and the Swedes an answer of any kind. The Finns and the Swedes were nevertheless convinced that we would not obstruct their wishes at the Council.

But our position in Geneva has proved quite different. The Soviet government believed, and still believes, the fortification of the archipelago to be a very dubious undertaking, as it carries the great risk that it will be occupied by the Germans in the event of war – with or without the consent of Finland and Sweden. In any case, the Soviet government has not been able to give its blessing to the fortification of the islands while the entire issue remains to be studied fully and while the Finns refuse to provide it with pertinent information about the scale and nature of the intended armaments (some ten days ago the Soviet government addressed the Finish government with a note to this effect, but the latter refused to answer, citing considerations of ‘military secrecy’). In the light of the above, the Soviet government asked the Council to postpone discussion of the issue until next time.

The Finns and the Swedes, however, were adamantly opposed to this. When I informed Sandler about our position on 21 May, he flew into a rage and threatened that if the Council did not comply with their wishes, Sweden and Finland would begin to fortify the islands without the Council’s permission. Moreover, he hinted that Sweden and Finland might even withdraw from the League of Nations. The Finnish representative Holsti

Eino Rudolf Woldemar Holsti, Finnish foreign minister, 1919–22 and 1936–38.

was less truculent, but his remarks were in the same vein.

The British and the French, bound by prior consent to the fortification and reluctant to quarrel with the Scandinavians, were also against shelving the issue. Avenol, of course, was for Sweden and Finland and against us. The smaller countries (Greece, Bolivia, Belgium, Peru, New Zealand and others) had no desire to interfere in the dispute. China, afraid of treading on the toes of Britain and France, avoided taking sides.

Such were the circumstances in which I began my fight. After conferring with Butler, who had replaced Halifax, and with Charvériat,

Emile Charvériat, succeeded René Massigli, who was preaching rapprochement with Czechoslovakia and the USSR, as director of the political affairs bureau of the French Foreign Ministry, in 1938.

who had replaced Bonnet, I proposed a special meeting of the six powers concerned (USSR, Sweden, Finland, Britain, France and Belgium) to try to settle this contentious question. Belgium found itself among the powers concerned purely because its representative, Bourquin,

Maurice Bourquin, Belgian professor of International Affairs at Geneva University and member of the Belgian delegation to the League of Nations, 1929–39.

was due to give a report on the Äland issue. Three special meetings of the six powers were held. In addition, the Äland issue was the subject of a ‘special meeting’ of all the members of the Council and of a ‘special session’ of the Council (not to be confused with a ‘special meeting’ of all Council members). In a word, a great quantity of time and words, and of nerves and passions, was expended on this issue.

First of all, I raised the possibility of postponing discussion of this item on the agenda. This idea was rejected by almost all the other representatives. I then let it be understood that if the issue was to be discussed during the session, I would have to vote down any resolution that might be put to the Council. In order to find a way out of the impasse, the representatives of Britain, France and especially Belgium began to suggest various compromises.

In their address to the League of Nations, the Swedes and the Finns asked the Council to express its ‘approval’ for their decision to fortify the Äland archipelago. The mediators said that ‘approval’ should be removed and replaced with ‘acknowledgement’ of the Swedish–Finnish intention, which would suffice. Sandler and Holsti objected fiercely at first, but eventually they agreed. I stated, however, that ‘acknowledgement’ was an indirect form of approval, and that I would therefore vote down this resolution as well. We started thrashing the problem out again, and Bourquin suggested that, first, he would not give a ‘report’ to the Council in the real sense of the word, but would satisfy himself merely with a ‘statement of facts’, establishing both the Swedish–Finnish and the Soviet positions; and secondly, the Council would not have to vote ‘to acknowledge’, but that as chairman I alone should announce at the end of the discussion that the Finnish–Swedish message had been acknowledged. To Bourquin’s obvious regret, I turned down this scheme as well, on the principle that it was the same, only worse. I, for my part, proposed (twice, in fact) that a vote be held on the following question: ‘Do you approve the fortification of the Äland Islands?’ My proposal, however, was turned down by the overwhelming majority of delegates at the ‘private meeting’ of all members.

Since the dispute over the Äland Islands had already been dragging on for three days and most of the delegates were in a hurry to leave, Bourquin, in a state of extreme desperation, eventually proposed the following: he would not make even a ‘statement of facts’ at the Council, but just present a bulletin about the state of the Äland Islands issue; after hearing the various declarations and speeches of the Council members, no decision would be passed at all, and the chairman would announce that the debates held at the Council would be ‘entered in the minutes’. Sandler and Holsti agreed to this, and so did I. Today, at seven in the evening, the last meeting of the 105th Council session was held, devoted entirely to the Äland issue.

Here I must note a rather curious fact. Yesterday, Avenol had a talk with Comrade Sokolin, during which he clearly hinted that since the USSR was a ‘party’ to the Äland issue, I should not chair the meeting at which it would be discussed. But I turned a deaf ear to these hints. Today, according to information I have received from various sources, Avenol campaigned among the Council members with some success along these lines. But I didn’t react to this either. Finally, after lunch, Avenol himself raised the subject with me and cited several precedents in support of his arguments, in particular the case of Beneš, who had declined chairmanship in the dispute between Czechoslovakia and Hungary.

I replied to Avenol: ‘Can you show me the article of the Covenant or the regulations which would forbid me to chair the meeting on the Äland issue?’

Somewhat taken aback, Avenol exclaimed: ‘No, there is no such article.’

‘So you are referring only to old precedents?’

‘Yes, to old precedents,’ replied Avenol.

‘I cannot regard them as binding,’ I said, ‘and I am prepared to create a new precedent.’

Avenol was beside himself. He puffed out his cheeks, turned red, and exclaimed angrily: ‘But what about public opinion? You’ll be attacked in the press.’

‘Don’t worry,’ I retorted. ‘It won’t be the first time I come under fire. I can cope with public opinion.’

Avenol shrugged his shoulders in despair.

So the attempt to unseat me failed. I had firmly decided that I would chair the Äland meeting come rain or shine – not only because I found Avenol’s claims senseless, but also because it was important for me to forestall the slightest possibility of the Finns and the Swedes interpreting the examination of the Äland issue by the Council as even the most indirect approval of their intentions. And I managed to get my way.

After Bourquin had read his ‘bulletin’, after Sandler, Holsti, Charvériat, and others had delivered their statements, and after I had made my statement on behalf of the USSR, in which I stressed the absence of unanimity among Council members, and uttered the words ‘the proceedings will be entered in the minutes’ – after all this, I loudly added one final sentence: ‘This means that the LN Council has taken no decision whatsoever on the issue under discussion.’

The matter was sealed. The Finns and the Swedes had been totally defeated. But then, as soon as the session was closed, Sandler and I shook hands in full view of the whole Council and the audience, as one would do in any good sports club. Like two boxers after a bout.

Sandler was greatly upset. Holsti vanished without even saying good-bye to me.