President of the Association of Russian Diplomats and Ambassador Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary Pogos Akopov: “Today the entire developing world is with us”
President of the Association of Russian Diplomats and Ambassador Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary Pogos Akopov: “Today the entire developing world is with us”
In an interview to New Eastern Outlook, the veteran of Soviet and Russian diplomacy, who recently celebrated his centenary, highlighted the key principles of Russia’s relations with developing countries, recalled his meetings with legendary historical figures, shared secrets of healthy longevity and a happy family life, and told his favorite international political joke.
– July 10, 1926, that’s the date of my birth as recorded in my birth certificate. But in the church registry book, a record was preserved that I was born on July 25, 1925. So I was born twice (laughs).
– So you’re actually not 100, but 101?!
– Yes, 101. Both dates were celebrated by the whole village in my hometown.
Having barely recovered from the surprise, I move on to my questions, but I would go on to be surprised many more times. This man is truly a unique personality, as you will see for yourself.
– Mr. Akopov, I read that your native land is a small village in Georgia. Please tell me about your roots and how you went from that village to becoming an ambassador representing a superpower. I understand that such a thing was only possible in the Soviet Union.
– Such was the country and such was the time that a boy from a God-forsaken mountain village, a peasant’s son, became an ambassador.
Not far from the Turkish border in Georgia, there are Armenian districts. My ancestors moved there in 1829–1830 from the Turkish part of Armenia. When Field Marshal Paskevich defeated the Turks, Kars and Erzurum were taken, and the Treaty of Adrianople was signed, he secured the Turkish government’s agreement not to hinder the resettlement of Armenians to the Russian Empire. About 15 Armenian villages were founded, including mine. Twenty families lived in the village, and my great-grandfathers were among them.
– And what was it called?
– Lower Suflis. It has since been renamed in the Georgian manner to Skhvilisi. So I grew up in a village. At the age of 12, I lost my mother, she died of tuberculosis. Around that time, I was sent to an Armenian school in Tiflis, that is, Tbilisi. Konstantin Biglyarovich Osipov, an old Communist and an exceptionally decent man, essentially took me into his family so that I could live in the city. At School No. 72, which I attended, Aram Khachaturian, Hovhannes Tumanyan, and Anastas Mikoyan studied. There I learned Russian.
…Mr. Akopov is a very delicate and attentive conversationalist. One can tell that he has had a lot of experience in dealing with journalists and interpreters. Noticing that I was writing by hand, he watched my movements, automatically slowing his speech and making the appropriate pauses for me to recall and jot everything down. Such seemingly insignificant details also contribute to one’s impression of a person…
– So when the Great Patriotic War began, you were only 15?
– I was a student at a technical school specializing in railways, where I enrolled in May 1941. We boys, as soon as the war started, immediately went to the military enlistment office, eager to go to the front. But we were refused. We asked again as soon as we turned 16; after the first year, we even wrote to Minister of Communications Ivan Kovalev, but by decision of the State Defense Committee, railway workers were not taken; they remained in the rear where their work was needed, under martial law. We were transferred to the Transcaucasian Railway. We worked there throughout the entire war. I walked from Tiflis to Baku. In my free time, I also worked as a turner at a factory, making parts for tanks.
Pogos Akopov with state awards
– Then you enrolled at university?
– The Moscow State Economic Institute, which before the war was called the Planning Academy. Out of the entire graduating class, I was the only one taken to Gossnab (State Committee for Material and Technical Supply of the USSR). At that time, the national economy had to be restored. The state distributed everything, from concrete to nails, between enterprises and republics. I worked there for two and a half years, after which I was transferred to Gosplan (State Planning Committee). At Gosplan, at the age of 30, I was appointed head of a sector.
– How did it happen that you moved from Gosplan to diplomatic work?
– I worked under the leadership of Alexey Kosygin. One day he summoned me and said: “The Central Committee of the CPSU is asking us for people to study at the Higher Diplomatic School. I will recommend you; will you go?” But why would I leave a job I loved and go elsewhere? The explanation was as follows: at that time, the colonial system was collapsing, and the newly formed states that had gained political independence needed to develop their economies. And they turned to the Soviet Union for help, because the imperialist powers refused them such assistance for well-known reasons: they did not wish to see them develop.
– What did you gain from working in such an important economic organization?
– I enjoyed working at Gosplan. I studied my country from the Far East to Moldova, and worked a lot with the republics. This later played a big role in my career. Soviet diplomacy needed people who knew our country’s economy and economic development issues. From Gosplan, 10 people were requested to study at the Higher Diplomatic School, including myself. The language assigned to me was Arabic. I wrote my thesis on the “Problems of the Economic Unification of Egypt with Syria.” In it, I came to the conclusion that this union would not last. And that is exactly how it turned out.
– Which Soviet leaders did you have the opportunity to work with?
– I visited Stalin. I still remember by heart the text of one memorandum with which I was sent to him. It proposed that a number of ministers begin developing a market economy – just imagine, in 1952 there were such ideas – and increase the authority of ministries, departments, union republics, and local authorities instead of the broad nomenclature of centralized planning. Stalin studied the proposals for a week, then gave an exhaustive answer: “I am for it. But the time is not yet right.” He understood that the state had not yet grown strong enough. And sure enough, as we started in the 90s, everything fell apart.
At Gossnab and Gosplan, I often communicated with Vyacheslav Molotov. He was a very intelligent man. I remember that when I, a young employee, would enter, he always got up from his desk, came over, and shook my hand. He never drank alcohol. Not once did I ever hear him raise his voice or express displeasure. In contrast to him, Lazar Kaganovich was a rather despotic leader, whose words could offend. Such stark opposites existed.
I prepared Khrushchev’s visit to Egypt in 1964 and accompanied him. After the famous Bulganin–Khrushchev ultimatum, Egypt greeted him as a national hero. When Khrushchev arrived, there was a nationwide celebration, and it was a sincere expression of gratitude from the Egyptian people to the Soviet Union and personally to Khrushchev for their support during the period of the tripartite aggression. I may also recall how Khrushchev attended the opening of the Aswan Dam’s diversion canal together with the heads of Arab states. Thousands rallied, and Nasser awarded him the Order of the Collar of the Nile.
In Moscow, at the Kremlin, I attended Brezhnev’s negotiations with Arab leaders. Before that, I also prepared Nikolai Podgorny’s visit after the 1967 Israeli aggression to Syria, Egypt, and Iraq. Our route (I was an adviser to the delegation) went first through Yugoslavia. At the airport, we were personally met by Josip Broz Tito. I looked out the porthole and suddenly saw........
