So, the non-aggression pact has been renounced! When I signed it on 21 January 1932 with Yrjö-Koskinen, Finland’s foreign minister at the time, it never crossed my mind that the pact would meet such an end.

I vividly recall the various details of that diplomatic event. Almost simultaneously, at the end of 1931, the USSR launched a large-scale ‘peaceful offensive’, entering into negotiations on non-aggression pacts with France in the west and Poland, Latvia, Estonia and Finland in the east (the non-aggression pact with Lithuania had been signed back in 1926, while we still did not have diplomatic relations with Rumania). The Soviet government had already made an attempt to conclude non-aggression pacts with the limitrophes back in 1927 and 1928, but French opposition put paid to it. In 1931, however, change was afoot in Franco-Soviet relations, and Paris raised the question of such a pact being signed. The negotiations, it must be said, were hard-going, bumpy and subject to interruptions, but they continued all the same. This altered the situation and encouraged one to hope of pacts being concluded with the limitrophes.

Each of the countries with whom we conducted negotiations had its own internal problems, which hampered the progress of the talks. Moreover, each country kept glancing at its neighbour to see how it was going. Was it really going to sign a pact or was it just playing games and manoeuvring? This was an additional and serious obstacle in our path. A diplomatic breakthrough needed to be made somewhere and the first pact concluded. Then the remaining partners would agree more easily.

I managed to make a breakthrough in Finland. On the face of it, the chances of this happening seemed negligible. Finns are extremely sluggish and slow-witted in their actions. They are extremely cautious. And they are extremely hostile to everything ‘Russian’, especially ‘Soviet Russian’ – far more hostile than Estonians or Latvians. Finally, they are significantly stronger and more solid as a nation than all the other Baltic countries. Everything seemed to come together to make a breakthrough in Finland utterly unfeasible and improbable.

Yet it was right here that the breakthrough was made! The political situation in Finland had improved considerably by early 1932, as compared with 1931 and especially 1930. It was also a stroke of luck that Yrjö-Koskinen happened to be minister for foreign affairs at the time. In a sense, I was the one who made him foreign minister. It happened like this. Changes in the Cabinet were under way in the spring of 1931, after Svinhufvud

Pehr Evind Svinhufvud, Finnish prime minister, 1917–18 and 1930–31; Finnish president, 1931–37.

was elected president of Finland. The former foreign minister Procopé

Hjalmar Johan Fredrik Procopé, Finnish foreign minister, 1927–31; ambassador to the USA, 1939–44.

retired and, being a ‘non-party Swede’, decided to leave politics and go into business. Svinhufvud was looking for a new foreign minister. Yrjö-Koskinen was one of several candidates. At the end of 1930 he had been sent to Moscow as the Finnish envoy (I pulled strings for him there, too), but now Svinhufvud was recalling him to Helsinki for consultation. Yrjö-Koskinen found himself in a difficult position: on the one hand, he did not want to leave his Moscow post, which he had been seeking for so long; on the other hand, the prospect of becoming foreign minister flattered him. He turned to me for advice: could he not leave Moscow for an extended trip to Helsinki without abandoning his post as envoy? Would the Soviet government be satisfied if – for several months, a year, or perhaps more – only a chargé d’affaires were present in Moscow? The query did not come out of the blue. A few years earlier, Procopé, then the Finnish envoy in Warsaw, was appointed foreign minister, but tried to keep his post in Poland as well. It didn’t work! The Poles waited three or four months and then demanded: either Procopé returns to Warsaw or the Finnish government must appoint a new envoy, because, you see, the prestige of the Polish state cannot permit the lengthy representation of Finland in Warsaw by a chargé d’affaires. Procopé chose the Foreign Ministry and cut his ties with Poland. Yrjö-Koskinen feared we might follow the example of the Poles. That wouldn’t have suited him at all. In that case, he’d have preferred to stay in Moscow.

Yrjö-Koskinen had to give his answer to the president in a few hours. I had no time to consult Moscow. So I decided to act at my own risk, guided by common sense. I told Yrjö-Koskinen: accept the foreign minister portfolio; Moscow will not feel ‘offended’ if a chargé d’affaires occupies the embassy for a year or more. Yrjö-Koskinen thanked me with an ardour out of keeping with his phlegmatic temperament and was appointed foreign minister the next day. Moscow also approved of my action: Yrjö-Koskinen was the best possible Finnish foreign minister in the circumstances of the time. Moreover, purely selfish considerations meant that he had every reason to aim for an improvement in relations between the USSR and Finland.

So now, when a breakthrough was needed on the diplomatic front, Yrjö-Koskinen was just the man. The idea of a non-aggression pact had his full approval. Svinhufvud valued his opinion and had taken him under his wing. Personally, I was on good terms with Koskinen: he never forgot that I had helped him become envoy in Moscow and foreign minister in Helsinki. All this was in our favour. There was just one problem: Yrjö-Koskinen was an incorrigible, beastly drinker. A true Finn. This sometimes put him out of action for several days running. During these bouts his wife would tell everyone, even his close colleagues and friends, that her husband was ill, and she wouldn’t let anyone near him, not even his closest colleagues and friends. But I had no time to spare.

In any case, the talks began on or around 7 January 1932. I had been to Moscow for a week and had brought all the necessary materials and instructions. I was in a great hurry, with Yrjö-Koskinen’s sluggish temperament uppermost in my mind. We met nearly every day. On the whole, I was making good progress. The military and members of the ‘suojeluskunta’ [Finnish White Guard fighters during the Russian Civil War] got in the way a bit. Once, Yrjö-Koskinen hit the bottle and the conference was delayed for three days. After that I asked his wife to keep an eye on him and not let him get so drunk. She gave her word and kept it. The talks were concluded in 15 days, and the non-aggression pact was signed on 21 January. The first pact in our ‘peace offensive’ of 1931–1932. M.M. sent me his congratulations by telegram. The Central Committee was very pleased.

Things got easier after my breakthrough. Pacts were signed with Latvia on 5 February, with Estonia on 4 May, with Poland on 25 July, and finally with France on 29 November. We were victorious along the whole front.

Yrjö-Koskinen was also rewarded: he remained Finland’s permanent representative in Moscow for almost nine years. His ambassadorship ended today…

I can’t understand the present position of the Finnish government. Of course, the British, French and Scandinavians have all been meddling there, confusing the Finns and drastically exacerbating a conflict which could have been settled in a neighbourly way. Still… don’t the Finns understand that, if trouble comes, they can’t count on anyone to help them? Who will help them? The Swedes? The British? The Americans? Like hell they will! A racket in the newspapers, moral support, oohing and aahing – yes. Troops, aeroplanes, cannons, guns – no. Butler told me plainly yesterday: ‘Should anything happen, we wouldn’t be able to send a single warship to Finland.’

What are the Finns counting on? What explanation can be found for their crazy provocations?