Peace Negotiation?

The news of Chechen Autonomous Region Soviet Supreme Chairman Kamarev's public execution sent shockwaves around the world. For the NATO alliance, led by the United States, this was a major breakthrough in their campaign against the Soviet Union. Where before Western powers had largely treated Kamarev's plight with indifference, now they seized upon Dudayev as a Muslim hero standing against totalitarianism—an echo of how Bin Laden had been portrayed in Afghanistan.

For the US government, it didn't matter whether their allies were merciless dogs begging for mercy or irredeemable villains: as long as they opposed the Soviet Union, Western media would cast them as champions of liberalism and freedom.

The Kremlin's veneer of calm shattered.

Army Commander-in-Chief Varennikov and Defense Minister Yazov arrived at General Secretary Yanaev's office with grim faces. An hour after the shocking news broke, Yanaev — silent and brooding — summoned the two men.

Both Yazov and Varennikov had commanded army groups before, and the fact that Yanaev summoned them first signaled clearly: this rebellion would not be met with peaceful negotiations.

The General Secretary's office was oppressively quiet. Yanaev's face was colder than winter ice. He held a cigarette in his left hand, staring through the window at the deep green boughs of pine trees. The ashtray before him overflowed with cigarette butts, and the air was thick with smoke.

"Comrades Varennikov and Yazov, please take your seats." His voice was mechanical, devoid of emotion.

He stubbed out the cigarette and turned toward the assembled parliament members. "I believe everyone has seen the events in the Chechen Autonomous Region."

"Yes," Varennikov nodded gravely. "What's happening in Chechnya is no longer mere unrest — it is outright betrayal of the Soviet Union. I believe we must launch a military operation to prevent the rebellion from spreading. Chechnya controls oil pipelines vital to the three South Caucasus republics, and its rich oil fields are critical to our economy. Losing control there would be catastrophic."

Yanaev neither opposed nor agreed, simply turning to Yazov for his view.

"My opinion aligns with Comrade Varennikov's," Yazov said without hesitation. "If Chechnya gains independence, the fragile prestige we've rebuilt in Georgia will collapse. That separatist wave will become unstoppable."

Yanaev's gaze swept the room, landing on firm, resolute faces. Their support for military action was clear and objective.

He sighed. "These two have military minds, trained to think within certain confines."

"Comrades, before we make a final decision, I want to share something." Yanaev's voice softened slightly, revealing a rare trace of concern. "I once visited the imprisoned Georgian leader Zviad in a KGB secret prison. He told me something important."

Yazov and Varennikov leaned forward, sensing the significance.

"He said Georgia's independence movement was only the beginning. The United States, with vast financial resources, supports independence movements in other key republics. If the Baltic states were the prologue, and Georgia the prelude, the real climax lies with two others."

Yanaev clenched his fists at the memory of a cunning adversary's face. "Back then, I thought it was the despairing talk of a loser. Now I see the Americans have orchestrated a massive plan. From the Baltic coast to Georgian unrest, they are maneuvering us step by step into their trap. Chechnya is the first spark of this disaster."

The second spark went unnamed — a silent question none dared voice.

"We are confident we can crush these separatists. No force can stop our tanks. But have you considered the cost? Our already fragile economy is in no shape for war. Would this conflict be the final nail in the coffin of the Soviet Union?"

Yanaev's words fell heavily over the room.

Indeed, the Soviet economy remained in downturn. If this war ended swiftly, like the invasion of Prague decades earlier, it might be survivable. But if it became another 'graveyard of empires,' it would be devastating.

"The red mercury operation limited American public support for the opposition, but they have not stopped covert aid. The White House's plans are far-reaching — far beyond our grasp."

Yanaev's previous minor victories now seemed insignificant compared to this American game that threatened the Soviet Union's very foundation. "Perhaps the White House is celebrating as we speak."

"Then are we to negotiate peace?" Yazov's voice twitched, disbelief creeping in. The firm resolve for war crumbled.

Varennikov cut in sharply, "If we negotiate, other republics will follow suit. What then? Keep making peace and watch the Union fall apart? Our territory may be vast, but no part is expendable."

Finally, Varennikov stood abruptly, a rare loss of composure lighting his eyes. The last time he'd been this animated was during the Foros villa crisis.

"So, you all oppose peace talks? You'd rather perish together with the Soviet Union than prevent its breakup?" Yanaev ignored Varennikov's bluntness and calmly sank back into his chair, his eyes steady as he addressed the old general.

"Yes. We have never feared, and we have never retreated." Varennikov met Yanaev's gaze without flinching. "I once led the 8th Guards Army in conquering Berlin, braved the Nazi artillery outside the Reichstag, and personally raised the victory flag over it. I am willing to sacrifice everything for this country — but I will never allow it to be destroyed!"

Yanaev rose and approached Varennikov slowly. Looking at the weathered face of a man who had given his life to the Republic, he sighed, heavy with regret.

"I have already decided to hold peace talks with Dudayev. I did not summon you here to hear opposition, but to inform you of this."

Varennikov felt as though his entire existence had been stripped away. His strength abandoned him, and he sank back into his chair, voice low and filled with sorrow.

"The General Secretary has made his decision... just to tell us this bad news?"

"Yes," Yanaev nodded gravely. "The meeting is scheduled for next Friday. But before then, there is one more matter I must ask of Comrades Varennikov and Yazov."

When they stepped out of Yanaev's office, passersby saw only two white-haired old men leaning on each other for support, walking slowly down the corridor.

They seemed to fade into the dimming shadows at the corridor's end, disappearing like the last glow of the setting sun outside the window — silently aging along with the dying Red Empire.