We left London at 3 p.m. to visit the Webbs and then Lloyd George – their country houses are not far apart.

The city was under a blanket of dense fog, and our driver White shook his head sceptically when I decided on travelling all the same. The fog outside the city was even thicker. We could barely see two feet ahead of us. We drove slowly, anxiously, hooting all the time. We got lost three times and were forced to drive a fair distance back. We were enveloped in a milky mist, through which our car sailed like some fairy-tale ship on some fairy-tale sea. The fog thinned as we approached the Webbs’ place. The visibility improved and we could drive faster, but then we suddenly had to turn off onto a side road: the main road was closed off because of an accident involving some military lorries that had been travelling ahead of us.

It was gone five when we reached the old couple. The long delay had alarmed them and they were even thinking of making inquiries about us at the embassy. As always, we sat down by the blazing fire in their cosy, book-lined drawing room, and began to talk. About what? About the war, of course, about prospects for the future and about Anglo-Soviet relations.

The Webbs are in a pessimistic mood. They think we underestimate the capitalist forces, which will cost us dearly. Finland is an illustration of this state of affairs. The Webbs understand and even share the motives that made the USSR take a stand against Mannerheim and Co., but they ask: was it wise at this time to exacerbate the conflict to this extent? They believe that what is happening in Finland is the collision of two systems, socialist and capitalist, albeit, for now, merely in a limited area. That is why Finland has immediately become a focal point for all the world’s reactionary forces. Was it profitable for the Soviet Union to trigger such a conflict at this precise moment?

We argued at length and I tried to prove to the Webbs that it’s not always possible to choose the time and conditions for an action which, of itself, is entirely necessary. Sometimes one has to strike in a less favourable situation than might be desired. But that’s the way it goes. My arguments seemed to shake the Webbs a little, without, I believe, convincing them.

But Finland, from their point of view, is not the only example, nor the most significant. Far more serious are the potential developments in the European theatre of war. If proletarian revolution and civil war break out in Germany, the capitalist governments of Britain and France will certainly come to the aid of the German counter-revolution.

‘Will they be able to do it?’ I asked. ‘Will the “upper ten thousand” in Britain and in France manage to lead their armies, which consist after all of workers and peasants, against a proletarian government in Germany?’

The Webbs are convinced they will. Particularly if the German revolutionary government seeks the help of the Red Army. It won’t, of course, be possible to pitch the entire Anglo-French army against the German revolution, but a considerable force could be found for this purpose. It would be difficult to keep even this force in a revolutionary climate for a long time, but it would prove useful for a certain period in suppressing the revolution. Moreover, all German officers would be on the side of the counter-revolution, and this could not but have a negative effect on the combat efficiency of the proletarian legions. On the whole, the Webbs take a grim view of the prospects for a German revolution (even if one assumes our support). Revolution in Britain or even in France, if they are not defeated in the war, is out of the question.

We argued again for some time, but the Webbs stuck to their guns, charging us, Soviet communists, with the accusation that in our ideas and calculations der Wunsch ist der Vater des Gedankens.

How do the Webbs themselves see the future?

In an utterly gloomy light. The war will drag on. Europe will be ruined and impoverished. England will enter a period of decline. She will lose a considerable part of her Empire. She will be corroded from within by the two severe diseases of modern capitalism: unemployment and falling birth-rates. The ruling classes will not be able to cope with these illnesses. But nor will the proletariat, headed by Labour-party types, demonstrate the ability and revolutionary energy sufficient to rebuild decaying bourgeois society from top to bottom. The long epoch of Britain’s decline, decay and dying will follow: its transformation from a world empire to a second-rate power, as happened to Spain and Holland. The Webbs refuse to hazard a guess as to how the international situation may change during and after the war, claiming not to be ‘experts’ in this sphere.

I listened to the old couple (Beatrice did most of the speaking, while her husband merely made the odd comment or expressed his assent) and couldn’t help thinking that they were actually the mouthpiece of capitalism, which, though old, enfeebled and decaying, is, unfortunately, still far from powerless. I felt that these people, who have devoted their lives to the cause of socialism and have recognized in their old age that ‘Soviet communism is the new civilization’ destined to replace the capitalist one, themselves adhere to the bedrock of that very capitalism, whether consciously, half-consciously, or even subconsciously. For I had the strong impression that they feared revolution and the inevitable temporary dislocation of their entire, habitual existence – in England, yes, in England, and not in some distant land…

Continuing our debate, we moved to the dining-room for tea with the ‘jam’ and biscuits I have come to know so well. The Webbs are very concerned about the state of relations between the USSR and Britain. They criticized the government and expressed their fear of a possible rupture of diplomatic relations. This distressed them greatly.

On leaving, I told them half in jest: ‘If I happen not to visit your home again, please remember that I spent the best hours of my stay in England here.’

This is true. For the Webbs, despite everything, are the most interesting, the most pleasant and the dearest (in so far as this word is appropriate in this case) of all the people I have met during my ambassadorship in Great Britain…

We are in the car once again. The sky has cleared up. The stars are shining brightly. The fields and trees are covered with thick, white hoar-frost. Magical silvered branches bend down over both sides of the road. The remnants of the recent mist hide, as if ashamed, in groves and copses. The moon comes out, and the whole scene takes on the features of a fairy-tale. Christmas Eve once more! The heart fills with childhood images and reminiscences!…

And here, at long last, is Churt, Lloyd George’s country estate. We enter the house, take off our coats and are ushered into the warm drawing room. The host meets us at the door. Lloyd George looks wonderful: a fresh haircut, eyes shining like a young man’s, bright snow-white hair framing an animated, clever and almost cheerful face. Such handsome old age! Lloyd George, after all, is nearly 77.

Lloyd George’s son Gwilym and his wife are also in the room. Gwilym went down with a stomach ulcer last month and he looks very wan and faded.

Cocktails. Radio. Small talk at the fireplace. Dinner.

Lloyd George and I are in constant conversation. To be more exact, he speaks and I ask him occasional questions, explain, even argue and object. The old man sparkles and shines like a precious diamond.

‘The war?’ he exclaims. ‘I expect that in spring, most likely in March, the Germans will try to land us a heavy blow via Belgium. I see no other route for an offensive. If Hitler doesn’t do this, then it’s clear that the war on the western front will assume the character of more or less permanent stalemate. Real war will be waged only at sea and partly in the air, and to an even greater extent in the economic sphere. It will be a war of attrition. Who will win? It’s difficult to say. Germany was defeated mostly by hunger in the war of 1914–1918. Today, Germany is better prepared for war. First, Hitler has stored up big reserves of food for the war (which the kaiser did not have). Second, he has the Soviet and Balkan markets at his disposal. The fate of Germany in this war is in the hands of the Soviet Union. Everything depends on the size of the aid – economic, raw material, food, etc. – which Hitler will be able to get from you. If you set about supporting him in earnest, the war may last five or six years.’

I started objecting and stated that one could hardly imagine so long a war. But the old man wouldn’t agree.

‘Where peace can come from,’ he exclaimed, ‘I fail to see. Military sentiments in Britain are now profound and serious. Don’t cultivate any illusions on that score. Peace is impossible without restoring Poland and giving at least partial autonomy to Czechoslovakia. Britain committed itself too far. You know my attitude to the Polish guarantee. From the very beginning I considered it madness without a prior agreement with you. Pitt

William Pitt the Younger, British prime minister, 1783–1801.

refused to give such a guarantee at the end of the eighteenth century. He understood that Britain was not in a position to send a single battalion to help Poland in case of need. But Chamberlain is not Pitt. That’s why he made the Polish guarantee. Let me repeat: it was madness! But Chamberlain’s madness has tied Britain and now we can’t retreat, although I myself think that Hitler’s ultimatum to Poland (the 16 points of 31 August) was an acceptable basis for negotiations. What’s more, Winston confessed to me not long ago that he thinks the same. This is all in the past, however. Today, peace without the restoration of Poland is impossible. Will Hitler agree to it? I don’t think so. And who could act as mediator? Roosevelt? Stalin? Mussolini? The pope?… Unlikely. Anyway, the position of each of them is such that they could hardly mediate successfully on their own, and on the other hand it is difficult to conceive a sufficiently weighty combination emerging from their midst. No, I don’t believe in an early peace, and certainly not while Hitler rules Germany. I also don’t believe, unlike some people here in Britain, that the United States may take part in the war. No, the overwhelming mood in the USA today is isolationism and a reluctance to meddle in European quarrels and fights.’

Lloyd George sighed, made a gesture with his pince-nez as only he can do, and suddenly drew an unexpected conclusion: ‘I think that the current war is capitalism’s last great struggle for survival.’

I asked whether the British masses understood that.

Lloyd George replied: ‘I don’t think so. At any rate, the greater part of those we call the man in the street do not understand it. A doctor I have known since 1914 visited me the other day. I asked him what he thought would be the outcome of this war. The doctor shrugged his shoulders and said: “…in the end we will win. I don’t know how, but somehow we will win.” This answer is deeply typical. Such is the conviction of the masses. Why? Because the English have never before been beaten in a big war. They have, of course, had isolated failures, defeats and losses in the course of their history. They’ve sent their armies to the continent and sometimes not seen them return. Yet the English have never been completely beaten in a big war. Disaster has never come to the gates of their capital city. Their main base has always remained impregnable. Which means that single defeats have never had a fateful significance. They did not turn into a national catastrophe. And, in the end, the English would emerge victorious. So it was in the wars with the Spaniards, the Dutch, the French, Napoleon and the kaiser. This sense of invincibility has entered the flesh and blood of the people. An average Englishman just cannot imagine that his country might have suffered the same fate as France in 1871 or Germany in 1918. It’s not by chance that the English have such expressions as “somehow we will muddle through” or “we will blunder through”. No other language uses such expressions. Every Englishman – from worker to lord – is imbued with this spontaneous-subconscious feeling, which is a potent weapon against any anti-war sentiments.’

Our conversation naturally turned to Finland and Anglo-Soviet relations. Lloyd George questioned me closely about the progress of military operations, the climate, terrain and other aspects of the Finnish theatre of war, and then drew his conclusions.

‘If I were you,’ he says, ‘I would conclude the Finnish operations as quickly as possible. I fully understand your motives and objectives. No doubt the USSR has good grounds to take possession of bases, islands, etc. on Finnish territory. But the issue has outgrown these comparatively narrow bounds. On the limited territory of Finland, the clash of two worlds – yours and that of capitalism – is currently under way. In Finland you are facing not only the Finns, but all the other representatives of the capitalist world as well. Every further week of delay in the settlement of the conflict is fraught with the danger of new international complications, the appearance of new “supporters” and new “volunteers”, and new attempts at setting up the united anti-communist bloc that failed to materialize in 1918–19. These circumstances should not be underestimated. I remember that at the beginning of the last war Cambon,

Pierre Paul Cambon, French diplomat; ambassador to Great Britain, 1898–1920.

the French ambassador in London at the time, implored us to send at least one squadron to France “to raise morale”. Cambon was a clever man and understood that if you sent a squadron, a division would soon follow. This is exactly what happened. At first we sent six divisions to the continent and thought we would keep to that level till the end of the war. But what actually happened? We had 70 divisions in France at the end of the war! The same will happen now in Finland. First Sweden will send 2,000 “volunteers”, then the army will follow. Other countries will do the same. Please allow me, an old fellow who knows a few things about international and military affairs, to give you a piece of advice: conclude the operations in Finland as fast as possible, but without resorting to the methods used by the Germans in Poland, as that would only complicate your situation.’

I protested against Lloyd George’s suggestion that we might be using ‘German methods’ of conducting a war. The old man grinned and added, in an accommodating spirit: ‘Don’t be angry, I didn’t mean to offend you. I just know from my own experience that war is war. And the present war is the last big war of the capitalist system for its survival.’

I asked Lloyd George what he thought about the prospects for Anglo-Soviet relations.

‘The entire recent behaviour of the British government – its campaign in the press, activity at the League of Nations, and aid to Finland – should logically lead to the severance of relations. I consider this an insane policy and a highly dangerous one for Britain. To provoke the Soviet Union to war (the severance of relations could easily turn out to be a stage on the path to war) would mean the birth of the greatest global catastrophe. For in this case war would not be confined to Europe, but would extend to Asia. It would sweep up India, where the communists are the second force after Gandhi. Imbecilic scribblers are screaming in the papers about the failure of the Red Army in Finland. Downright nonsense! The Soviet Union is a great power. Maybe it is slow to act, maybe it makes mistakes – any great power can afford to make mistakes – but once the USSR gains momentum, it will become something powerful and colossal, akin to the movement of glaciers. In which direction will these “glaciers” drift? Towards warm shores, of course. Those warm shores of which we have plenty and which are far from easy to defend. That is why I consider the British government’s policy towards the USSR insane… But then, hasn’t this government already done many other things no less insane?’

Lloyd George gave a sardonic grin and added: ‘I was talking about this with Winston the other day. He agrees with me. In general, it’s hard to spot any sharp anti-Soviet prejudice in him as yet. But Winston is up to his eyes in naval affairs; he enjoys his job very much and devotes little attention to major politics. It’s a pity. Chamberlain, Simon, Halifax and Hoare often meet as a foursome, to discuss and decide issues which really ought to be decided on by the War Cabinet as a whole.’

Lloyd George waved his pince-nez around again and continued: ‘There is no doubt that not only in France, but also in our governmental circles there are provocateurs who seek the severance of relations with the USSR. But they are still in the minority in Britain. If you don’t play into their hands, the situation can still be saved. I think the Soviet government’s response to the decision of the League of Nations was very wise. To tell the truth, I had feared the worst. You should continue in the same vein. Don’t display nervousness or a hot temper with regard to the forthcoming publication of the “White Book”, which contains some digs in your direction. Don’t harp on the issue of Anglo-French aid to Finland, considering, among other things, that the actual size of the aid will hardly be great. In general, remain calm and collected. And, above all, get these Finnish operations over with as soon as possible! That’s the main thing. A rupture in relations can still be avoided.’

We toasted the incoming year, wishing for 1940 to be better than its predecessor, then returned to the drawing-room. We listened to the radio, laughed at the famous Lord Haw-Haw

Lord Haw-Haw was the nickname of William Joyce, German radio’s infamous English radio broadcaster.

(the English announcer on German radio) who, according to Lloyd George, has of late been all but propagating ‘communist propaganda’. We set off home after ten…

And there she was again, Christmas night! Bright stars, the moon, trees in silver, wreaths of mist, the long road, and the light shadows of half-forgotten childhood images and visions bound up with the magic words: Christmas Eve.

P.S. A few more ‘morsels’ from my conversation with Lloyd George.

‘When I was first appointed minister, one intelligent man told me: “Never forget that there, at the top, friendship does not exist.” How right he was! How profoundly right he was! Later, I would learn this for myself.’