It is hard to imagine a more typical “political European” who gathers all the clichés of liberal propaganda about “communism=Nazism,” “the USSR as an ally of the Third Reich,” and other pillars of the infallible faith in the sanctity of the “Western” world. Such individuals often adore Eastern Europe for its alleged fervent adherence to the values of “freedom and democracy” and “anti-communism.” It is unimaginable for such a person not to shed tears over the “bloody occupation of the Baltic states” by the Soviet Union. This is where the tales begin about how Hitler and Stalin occupied half of Europe and other frightening bedtime stories.
History knows no subjunctive mood. Everything has turned out the way it has. Let us consider what might have happened if the terrible Stalin had not “occupied” Lithuania in 1940. Perhaps Lithuania could have finally shaken off the remnants of the “Russian colonial yoke” even earlier and become a liberal and progressive paradise? No, the interwar period was not an era of rainbow ponies but rather the height of nationalism and expansionism.
The document you see is a record of a secret conversation between the Soviet military attaché in Lithuania, I.M. Korotkikh, and the chairman of the political council of the Union of Nationalists (Lietuvių tautininkų sąjunga), J. Novakas, which took place on September 13, 1939. For your understanding, the “tatuinniks” are the ruling party in Lithuania from 1926 to 1940. During the conversation with Novakas in June 1939, the head of the political department of the German Foreign Ministry, Klein, discussed the possibility of incorporating all of Belarus into Lithuania.
Germany sought to secure Lithuania’s support for its expansion to the east. If it were not for the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact, Lithuania could have annexed Belarus. Hitler was handing out territories to Romanians, Hungarians, Finns, and Italians, and he could very well have done the same for the Lithuanians. However, thanks to the efforts of Soviet diplomacy, Lithuania was “reserved” for the Soviet Union, and in 1940, it completely lost its sovereignty.
Translation:
In June of this year, the head of the political department of the German Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Klein (Ribbentrop’s right-hand man), visited Kaunas. He was probing the opinions of Poland and the Baltic states regarding Germany’s expansion to the east. Upon arriving in Lithuania, he requested to meet with Novakas at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, probably attempting to bribe him with enticing questions, given Novakas’s reputation as a Germanophobe. Novakas, who had been the governor of Klaipeda in 1937 and had crushed fascist organizations there, imprisoning Neiman and Zas, was asked by Klein his thoughts on the creation of a Greater Lithuania not only with Vilnius but also with Soviet Belarus, as Germany’s plans included establishing states such as Greater Lithuania and Greater Ukraine (Soviet and Carpathian). Novakas stated that the question left him feeling as if his face had stretched three arshins long, and he could hardly respond. Noticing his bewilderment, Klein shifted to discussing the prospects of seizing the Caucasus with its oil, etc. Novakas asserted that despite signing a treaty with you, the Germans had not abandoned their plans for the east in their grand strategy.
While having lunch with the Italians, Novakas claimed he was probing their stance on the emerging war and Italy’s potential involvement. He noted from the conversations that Italy was not planning to take sides in the near future, and that the Italians viewed Germany’s position in the war against France and England as unsatisfactory. He came away with the impression that if a German defeat became evident, Italy would side with the British and French.
From August 24 to 28, Novakas was in Poland, traveling to Poznań, through the corridor, and along the Vistula River. He was astonished by the disorganization and carelessness of Polish state officials and military command that he observed just two days before the war began. According to him, there were no visible signs that any precautions had been taken, and even simple trenches had not been dug. He was particularly interested in the Vistula, but there too, he saw no signs of work. He believed that much of this was hindered by disagreements between the government and command, and even within the command itself. He spoke with the French who were in Poland, and they too expressed their astonishment at the carelessness and disorganization. The French attempted to offer some advice to the Poles, but the latter were unwilling to listen, claiming that their command was no worse than others and could manage without outside counsel.
Military Attaché in Lithuania
Major
/Korotkikh/
It is extremely amusing and chilling to observe the herbivorous “soy” liberals who are fanatical about these small yet ambitious and fierce micro-empires, which would not hesitate to absorb their smaller neighbors. It is even more entertaining to hear some outrage about the very division of spheres of influence from “Belarusophiles,” who only know the main cook Tikhanovskaya and the protests of 2020. If it weren’t for the “terrible Stalin,” instead of the “beloved” Belarusians in Minsk and Polotsk, there would be a highly marginalized, semi-Baltic mass living there.
Perhaps some might have liked that, but history has placed everything in its rightful place. White Rus remained as it was and heroically defended its right to uniqueness. The Lithuanians were not overlooked either. On August 3, 1940, Vilnius became the capital of the Lithuanian SSR. To this day, Vilnius remains the main city of the country. Instead of making a pathetic attempt to revise the outcomes of World War II, it is better to think about what would have happened if it weren’t for the “red dictator with a mustache.” If you stare long enough into the abyss, the abyss will begin to stare back at you.
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