
Courtney A. Short |
Review of Andrew
Nagorski, The Greatest Battle: Stalin, Hitler, and the
Desperate Struggle for Moscow That Changed the Course of World
War II. New York: Simon and Schuster, 2007. Pp. xiii, 366.
ISBN 978-0-7432-8110-2. |
In The Greatest
Battle, Andrew Nagorski argues that the battle of Moscow in 1941
was the most important of the war. This unclean struggle that
ultimately favored the Soviets was a first turning point: it changed
not only the predicted outcome for the Eastern European theater but
also modified the implications of the war and the post-war world for
the international community. For Nagorski, Moscow's position as the
first Soviet success gives the battle a special significance despite
the narrow margin of its victory. Other victories, such as
Stalingrad and Kursk, merely continued the gathering momentum of
Soviet battlefield strength. With Moscow, the Allies learned the
true military potential of the Soviet Union, watched the fading of
Germany's invincibility, and began to consider the implications of
combat in a world theater that could provide Allied support in the
East. For the Soviet Union, the preservation of its capital and
industrial center meant the continued ability to mobilize for
further conflict. Nagorski, however, does not blindly applaud the
Soviets as underdogs who deserve empathy and praise, but instead
stresses the horrific aspects of a battle that was almost lost. He
holds Stalin accountable for both the high casualty count and for
the ability of the Germans to threaten Moscow to the extent they
did; Stalin's leadership contributed more towards a potential loss
than a victory. The Soviet people looted, panicked, and started
riots; they didn't always support the country, Stalin, the mission,
or even their own neighbors. A thorough understanding of the
inglorious reality of the fight magnifies the subsequent
significance of the battle of Moscow.
Though not a trained
academic historian, as a longtime Newsweek correspondent and
current Vice President and Director of Public Policy for the
EastWest Institute,[1]
Nagorski has ample experience in international relations and
journalism. The Greatest Battle is his military history
debut.[2]
His background is both a hindrance and a help. His thoughtful and
compelling argument is presented in a perfectly organized manner
that improves not only the clarity of the content but the flow of
the chronological narrative, based on only the most pertinent
information and anecdotes. Central to his argument, for example, are
the diverse and complex experiences and opinions of the Soviet
people. Therefore, many first-name, personal stories about these
citizens, some extending to several pages, dominate the narrative.
The author's extensive
journalistic experience contributes to a highly enjoyable and
readable text, replete with captivating stories about, for example,
the preservation of Lenin's body, romances between NKVD operatives,
and disturbing interrogations of loyal Soviet soldiers accused of
spying.
When Germany invaded
the Soviet Union on June 22, Ilya Vinitsky was a student at the
Moscow Aviation Institute (MAI) and had just started a job as a
summer trainee at a factory in Volga. Raised in a Jewish family in
Kiev, he had trained as a sniper while he was still in high school
there. So he was ready--eager--to volunteer for military service
when the war broke out. He rushed back to Moscow the very next day....
The beating continued until the NKVD officer was tired. He then
proposed they shoot Vinitsky on the spot.... Vinitsky didn't know it
yet, but he was lucky to be there. His new interrogator, a young
NKVD agent wearing civilian clothes, wrote down everything he said,
including his protestations that it wasn't his fault that he was
never issued a military ID card.... The interrogator freed Vinitsky,
who would go on to do maintenance work on airplanes, though not in
Rzhev (63-68).
Such vignettes, while
in some ways anecdotal, support Nagorski's thesis by highlighting
the central importance of the Soviet citizenry and the harsh,
sometimes brutal, situations they endured during Germany's invasion.
These accounts fill many pages and usually open chapters, giving the
book the feel of a novel, rather than an analytical, academic work.
Nagorski has tailored his book more for a common readership with an
interest in military history and World War II in general than for
historians, scholars, or academics.
With good historical
accuracy, Nagorski takes the reader seamlessly through the key
aspects of the battle of Moscow: the chronological development of
the event, from untrustworthy pacts to the lengthy combat, the
battling wits of Stalin and Hitler, and the interest of other
countries in the events unfolding in Eastern Europe. He tells the
accepted history of the battle of Moscow without many new insights.
He takes little notice of the reevaluation by historians of Soviet
accounts of the war in the two decades since the opening of the
Soviet archives.[3]
Nagorski's focus on the battle of Moscow itself, rather than the
entirety of Operation Barbarossa, is innovative and usefully
responds to, for example, Richard Overy's dogmatic disregard for
Moscow (315),[4]
but seems ultimately ill-advised in the absence of new information
and conclusions.
Nagorski uses
declassified NKVD documents, an ample selection of oral histories
and interviews, as well as personal memoirs and diaries, archival
material (at the Hoover Institute), and a solid collection of
secondary sources. Unfortunately, he too rarely cites primary
sources. Thus, although he mentions orders and memoranda and quotes
conversations and statements of key historical actors, he more often
than not references attributions in secondary works. For example, he
uses Order 0428, Stalin's policy for the destruction of Soviet land
and property, as causing heavy Soviet casualties and feelings of
discontent toward the government (266). The source he cites for the
order, however, is a 1991 biography of Stalin rather than the
archives where he might have examined the original. He refers to the
same biography when discussing Stalin's order to secure the town of
Rzhev (299). While some primary sources, notably published personal
memoirs, figure prominently as evidence in the text, whatever actual
archival work he did somehow gets lost in the presentation of the
narrative.
The Greatest Battle
has received many laudatory reviews in the popular press (Washington
Post, New York Times, and Wall Street Journal) and
has been shortlisted for awards and prizes[5]--deservedly
so. While not an academic work in the traditional sense, it is
nonetheless a historically accurate portrayal of the battle of
Moscow that will excite its readers by the vibrancy of its prose and
the intelligence of its argument.
U.S. Military Academy,
West Point
cakjos@yahoo.com
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[2] He has previously written two non-fiction
works on international affairs and one novel: respectively,
Reluctant Farewell: An American Reporter's Candid Look inside
the Soviet Union (NY: Holt, Rinehart, & Winston, 1985);
The Birth of Freedom: Shaping Lives and Societies in the New
Eastern Europe (NY: Simon & Schuster, 1993); Last Stop
Vienna (NY: Simon & Schuster, 2002).
[3] See, e.g., Joseph Wieczynski, ed.,
Operation Barbarossa: The German Attack on the Soviet Union,
June 22, 1941 (Salt Lake City, UT: Charles Schlacks, 1993):
authors from Great Britain, the United States, Russia, and
Germany cover a wide range of subjects on the invasion,
including Stalin's influence on battle development and outcomes,
which Nagorski also explores. John Barber, "Popular Reactions in
Moscow to the German Invasion of June 22, 1941" and Mark von
Hagen, "Soviet Soldiers and Officers on the Eve of the German
Invasion: Towards a Description of Social Psychology and
Political Attitudes" also address the complex responses of the
Soviet citizenry and the lack of universal loyalty toward Stalin
and the nation.
[4] In Russia's War (NY: Penguin, 1998).
[5] It was selected as a "Best Book of 2007" by
The Washington Post Book World and was a finalist for the
2007 Los Angeles Times Book Prize in History.
|