Mud in Your Eye

Now it can be told. At the huge banquet given Nov. 7 by Foreign Minister Molotov to honor the 36th anniversary of the October revolution, almost all of the Soviet bigwigs--with the exception of Malenkov himself--and hundreds of lesser wigs gathered with members of Moscow's foreign diplomatic corps. As the evening wore on and tongues loosened by vodka and champagne began to wag more freely, the Westerners were able to get a significant insight into the frictions chafing the present sons of the revolution.

Host Molotov was plainly irritated at his fellow party Presidium member, First Deputy Premier Lazar Kaganovich, who, despite repeated shushings, insisted on proposing toast after toast, while waspish Deputy Premier Anastas Mikoyan heckled him from the side. At one point Kaganovich, a former Ukrainian commissar, called the company's attention to "the great friendship of all peoples of the So viet Union," listing the Soviet states with one pointed omission. "What about the Georgians?" snapped Armenian Mikoyan, an old friend of Georgian Lavrenty Beria who had been arrested four months before. "Oh yes," said Kaganovich without enthusiasm, "the Georgians too."

When he was called on for a toast, U.S. Ambassador Charles ("Chip") Bohlen raised his glass to "justice." Soon afterward Deputy Defense Minister Georgy Zhukov, the only Red army marshal never invited by the party leaders to lead the Red army parade, was asked for a toast. He announced that he would go along with Bohlen's toast. "What's the matter, Zhukov?" taunted Partyman Mikoyan, "can't you think up a toast of your own?" The marshal glared at Policeman Beria's friend. "I repeat," he said, "I wish to support the toast to justice."

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.