Talk:Salvador Allende/Archive 10

Archive 5

←

Archive 8

Archive 9

Archive 10

Archive 11

Archive 12

Alleged Russian involvement

There are serious problems with attribution, undue weight, and reliable sources. Other problems include a misinterpretation of foreign involvement. Russian political and economic support to Allende's government cannot be construed as "KGB's interference", but was an expression of two governments exercising normal relations. The scholarly source I posted on Russia's relations with Chile actually show evidence of tension between the two countries. At most, Russia gave tepid support to Allende. It is not acceptable to use sensationalist pop-fiction such as Mitrokhin's alleged notes for an analysis of Chile's foreign relations. Cite works by experts on the subject. Kupredu (talk) 21:55, 7 May 2009 (UTC)

Yes, I've been thinking for quite some time that the material you deleted was deeply flawed and excessive. Mitrokhin (and another defector, a guy named Viktor Suvorov) seem to get quoted all over Wikipedia for the most sensationalist, dubious claims, although there are serious questions about Mitrokhin, and Suvorov is completely discredited. (In an interesting symmetry, after Mitrokhin's book was published in the West, largely at the behest of MI-5, a guy named Richard Tomlinson, who had helped retrieve Mitrokhin's papers for MI-6, defected to Russia and wrote a book, possibly at the behest of SVR - but of course, Wikipedia isn't sprinkled with wild claims from Mr. Tomlinson, only from Mr. Mitrokhin.) <eleland/talkedits> 22:40, 7 May 2009 (UTC)

I agree the source is questionable. But we shouldn't just delete it before trying to reach a general consensus.

I propose posting the reference to Mitrokhin on one of the boards and get some input from other people.

If most agree the source is dubious or unreliable we'll remove it along with its content.

Or if we can get other sources contradicting it or casting doubt on it, then we can also proceed.

In any case, I placed a template under that section, so that people know it's being disputed.

Likeminas (talk) 23:07, 8 May 2009 (UTC)

Well although like anyone I could agree that any intelligence information from a KGB defector should be handed carefully 3 things should be pointed out:

1º THE CORROBORATION OF THE AUTHENTICITY MADE BY THE WESTERN INTELLIGENCE AGENCIES (MI-6, CIA and FBI) ABOUT THE DECLASSIFIED KGB ARCHIVES.

2º I HAVE NOT YET HEARD OF A SINGLE VALID ACCUSATION AGAINST THE VERACITY OF THE KGB INTELLIGENCE DOCUMENTS OR EVEN SOMEONE WHO CAN DENY THE WORK OF MAJOR MITROKHIN DURING HIS TIME AT THE KGB INTELLIGENCE CENTRAL OF YASENEVO.

3º I STILL DONT UNDERSTAND WHY Kupredu DELETED ALL THE REFERENCES TO THE INTERVIEW WITH FORMER KGB GENERAL NIKOLAI LEONOV, A REFERENCE VALIDATED BY THE CHILEAN CENTER OF PUBLIC STUDIES NO LESS, WHERE HE SPEAKS OF THE POLITICAL, ECONOMICAL AND MILITARY SOVIET SUPPORT FOR ALLENDE'S GOVERNMENT.Agrofelipe (talk) 00:07, 9 May 2009 (UTC)

I removed the "disputed" tag since none could present a valid claim to discredit the info on that section.Agrofelipe (talk) 23:45, 10 May 2009 (UTC)

Not so fast. Give people a chance to reply...

Here's a few critics of Mr Mitrokhin:

J. Arch Getty of UCLA, in the American Historical Review (106:2, April 2001): found Mitrokhin's material to be "fascinating," but he also questioned plausibility that Mitrokhin could have smuggled and transcribed thousands of KGB documents, undetected, over 30 years. by Getty, American Historical Review.

Former Indian counter-terrorism chief Bahukutumbi Raman pointed out that Mitrokhin did not bring either the original documents or photocopies. Instead, he brought handwritten/typed notes of the contents of the documents.[1]

Likeminas (talk) 15:31, 11 May 2009 (UTC)

Alright Likeminas, I already knew those two claims. You must admit that they are not very convincing refutations to this point, after all they are not arguing against the authenticity or veracity of the content of the declassified KGB intelligence archives brought by major Mitrokhin to the West but simply stating that they "doubt he could have done it".

Furthermore until some credible and verifiable source with actual proof can deny that major Mitrokhn was a KGB major and senior archivist at the KGB central intelligence of Yasenevo, that he was the KGB officer in charge of the moving of the intelligence archives from the headquarters of Lubyanka to the intelligence central of Yasenevo in 1972, that he had unique access to classified intelligence documents for about 12 years or that the declassified KGB intelligence documents have been corroborated and validated by all the major western intelligence services (MI-6, FBI, CIA), I'm don't see how anyone can seriously question the authenticity of the information.Agrofelipe (talk) 22:29, 14 May 2009 (UTC)

doubting he could have done it IS arguing against the veracity of the content.

The story of Mitrokhin's defection, which strains credulity I believe it to be somewhat questionable.

According Andrew, Mitrokhin was a secret dissident who strongly disapproved of the KGB even though he worked for its foreign intelligence branch for 35 years. In 1972, for some inexplicable reason, Mitrokhin, who never achieved a rank above major in his entire KGB career, was given the sensitive job of overseeing the transfer of the KGB's entire foreign intelligence archive to its new headquarters outside Moscow. According to Andrew, Mitrokhin had two private offices and unlimited access to the KGB's darkest secrets. With the goal of getting back at his employers by telling the West about the KGB's foreign operations, Mitrokhin spent the next 12 years scribbling thousands upon thousands of notes from the files he saw. Incredibly, given the rigorous security rules in all Soviet archives, no one noticed what Mitrokhin was doing all day or checked him when he was going home at night.

The story gets even more mysterious. Despite all his hard work, Mitrokhin made no attempt to do anything with the notes he took (except to retype them) after his retirement in 1984. His private "archive" would apparently never have seen the light of day if it had not been for the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991. Emboldened to take action, Mitrokhin traveled to an unnamed Baltic country in 1992 and knocked on the door of a British embassy. After a few more trips back and forth to Russia, he eventually was "exfiltrated" by the British with all his documents (six suitcases' worth) and his family. All this happened under the very noses of the members of the Russian security services, who apparently did not notice that one of their former colleagues who had had access to top-secret files was going back and forth to one of the now-independent Baltic states (where the Russians were spying up a storm).

Having said that, I propose we leave the template up there until we reach some sort of consensus.

Likeminas (talk) 23:08, 14 May 2009 (UTC)

"doubting he could have done it IS arguing against the veracity of the content."

Actually I was hoping for some form of proof, but ok.

"The story of Mitrokhin's defection, which strains credulity I believe it to be somewhat questionable."

Then perhaps I can help you understand:

"Soon after the crushing of the Prague Spring, Mitrokhin heard a speech given by Andropov in the KGB's East German headquarters at Karlshorst in the Berlin suburbs. Like Shelepin, Andropov spoke directly to the audience, rather than—like most Soviet officials—sticking to a prepared platitudinous text. With an ascetic appearance, silver hair swept back over a large forehead, steel-rimmed glasses and an intellectual manner, Andropov seemed far removed from Stalinist thugs such as Beria and Serov. His explanation for the invasion of Czechoslovakia was far more sophisticated than that given to the Soviet public. It had, he insisted, been the only way to preserve Soviet security and the new European order which had emerged from the Great Patriotic War. That objective political necessity, Andropov claimed, was accepted even by such unorthodox figures as the great physicist Pyotr Kapitza, who had initially shown some sympathy for the Prague revisionists. Mitrokhin drew quite different conclusions from the Warsaw Pact invasion. The destruction of Czechoslovak "socialism with a human face" proved, he believed, that the Soviet system was unreformable. He still vividly recalls a curiously mythological image, which henceforth he saw increasingly in his mind's eye, of the Russian people in thrall to "a three-headed hydra": the Communist Party, the privileged nomenklatura and the KGB.

After his return to Moscow from East Germany, Mitrokhin continued to listen to Western broadcasts, although, because of Soviet jamming, he had frequently to switch wavelengths in order to find an audible station. Often he ended up with only fragments of news stories. Among the news which made the greatest impression on him were items on the Chronicle of Current Events, a samizdat journal first produced by Soviet dissidents in 1968 to circulate news on the struggle against abuses of human rights. The Chronicle carried on its masthead the guarantee of freedom of expression in the United Nations Universal Declaration of Human Rights, daily abused in the Soviet Union.

As the struggle against "ideological subversion" intensified, Mitrokhin saw numerous examples of the way in which the KGB manipulated, virtually at will, the Soviet justice system. He later copied down the sycophantic congratulations sent to Andropov by A. F. Gorkhin, chairman of the Soviet Supreme Court, on the fiftieth anniversary of the founding of the Cheka in December 1967:

The Soviet Courts and the USSR Committee of State Security [KGB] are of the same age. But this is not the main thing which brings us together; the main thing is the identity of our tasks ...

We are glad to note that the State Security agencies and the Courts solve all their complicated tasks in a spirit of mutual understanding and sound professional relations.

Mitrokhin saw mounting evidence both in the classified in-house journal, KGB Sbornik, and in FCD files of Andropov's personal obsession with the destruction of dissent in all its forms and his insistence that the struggle for human rights was part of a wide-ranging imperialist plot to undermine the foundations of the Soviet state. In 1968 Andropov issued KGB Chairman's Order No. 0051, "On the tasks of State security agencies in combating ideological sabotage by the adversary," calling for greater aggression in the straggle against both dissidents at home and their imperialist supporters. One example of this greater aggression which left Mitrokhin, as an ardent admirer of the Kirov Ballet, with a sense of personal outrage was the plan which he discovered in FCD files to maim the ballet's star defector, Rudolf Nureyev.

By the beginning of the 1970s Mitrokhin's political views were deeply influenced by the dissident struggle, which he was able to follow both in KGB records and Western broadcasts. "I was a loner," he recalls, "but I now knew that I was not alone." Though Mitrokhin never had any thought of aligning himself openly with the human rights movement, the example of the Chronicle of Current Events and other samizdat productions helped to inspire him with the idea of producing a classified variant of the dissidents' attempts to document the iniquities of the Soviet system. Gradually the project began to form in his mind of compiling his own private record of the foreign operations of the KGB.

Mitrokhin's opportunity came in June 1972 when the First Chief (Foreign Intelligence) Directorate left its overcrowded central Moscow offices in the KGB headquarters at the Lubyanka (once the pre-Revolutionary home of the Rossiya Insurance Company) and moved to a new building south-east of Moscow at Yasenevo, half a mile beyond the outer ringroad. Designed by a Finnish architect, the main Y-shaped seven-story office building was flanked on one side by an assembly hall and library, on the other by a polyclinic, sports complex and swimming pool, with pleasant views over hills covered with birch trees, green pastures, and—in summer—fields of wheat and rye. To the other KGB directorates, most of which worked in cramped conditions in central Moscow, Yasenevo was known—with more envy than condescension—as "The Woods."

For the next ten years, working from private offices both in the Lubyanka and at Yasenevo, Mitrokhin was alone responsible for checking and sealing the approximately 300,000 files in the FCD archive prior to their transfer to the new headquarters. While supervising the checking of files, the compilation of inventories and the writing of index cards, Mitrokhin was able to inspect what files he wished in one or other of his offices. Few KGB officers apart from Mitrokhin have ever spent as much time reading, let alone noting, foreign intelligence files. Outside the FCD archives, only the most senior officers shared his unrestricted access, and none had the time to read more than a fraction of the material noted by him.

Mitrokhin's usual weekly routine was to spend each Monday, Tuesday and Friday in his Yasenevo office. On Wednesdays he went to the Lubyanka to work on the FCD's most secret files, those of Directorate S which ran illegals—KGB officers and agents, most of Soviet nationality, working under deep cover abroad disguised as foreign citizens. Once reviewed by Mitrokhin, each batch of files was placed in sealed containers which were transported to Yasenevo on Thursday mornings, accompanied by Mitrokhin who checked them on arrival. Unlike the other departments, who moved to the new FCD headquarters in 1972, Directorate S remained based in the Lubyanka for a further decade.

Mitrokhin thus found himself spending more time dealing with the files of Directorate S, the most secret in the FCD, than with those of any other section of Soviet foreign intelligence. The illegals retained a curious mystique within the KGB. Before being posted abroad, every illegal officer was required to swear a solemn, if somewhat melodramatic, oath:

Deeply valuing the trust placed upon me by the Party and the fatherland, and imbued with a sense of intense gratitude for the decision to send me to the sharp edge of the struggle for the interest of my people ... as a worthy son of the homeland, I would rather perish than betray the secrets entrusted to me or put into the hand of the adversary materials which could cause political harm to the interests of the State. With every heartbeat, with every day that passes, I swear to serve the Party, the homeland, and the Soviet people.

The files showed that before the Second World War the greatest foreign successes had been achieved by a legendary group of intelligence officers, often referred to as the "Great Illegals." After the Second World War, the KGB had tried to recreate its pre-war triumphs by establishing an elaborate network of "illegal residencies" alongside the "legal residencies" which operated under diplomatic or other official cover in foreign capitals.

The records of Directorate S revealed some remarkable individual achievements. KGB illegals successfully established bogus identities as foreign nationals in a great variety of professions ranging from Costa Rican ambassador to piano tuner to the Governor of New York. Even in the Gorbachev era, KGB propaganda continued to depict the Soviet illegal as the supreme embodiment of the chivalric ideal in the service of secret intelligence. The retired British KGB agent George Blake wrote in 1990:

Only a man who believes very strongly in an ideal and serves a great cause will agree to embark on such a career, though the word "calling" is perhaps appropriate here. Only an intelligence service which works for a great cause can ask for such a sacrifice from its officers. That is why, as far as I know, at any rate in peacetime, only the Soviet intelligence service has "illegal residents."

The SVR continues the KGB tradition of illegal hagiography. In July 1995, a month after the death of the best-known American-born illegal, Morris Cohen, President Yeltsin conferred on him the posthumous title of Hero of the Russian Federation.

The files of Directorate S noted by Mitrokhin reveal a quite different kind of illegal. Alongside the committed FCD officers who maintained their cover and professional discipline throughout their postings, there were others who could not cope when confronted by the contrast between the Soviet propaganda image of capitalist exploitation and the reality of life in the West. An even darker secret of the Directorate S records was that one of the principal uses of the illegals during the last quarter of a century of the Soviet Union was to search out and compromise dissidents in the other countries of the Warsaw Pact. The squalid struggle against "ideological subversion" was as much a responsibility of Directorate S as of the rest of the FCD.

Mitrokhin was understandably cautious as he set out in 1972 to compile his forbidden FCD archive. For a few weeks he tried to commit names, codenames and key facts from the files to memory and transcribe them each evening when he returned home. Abandoning that process as too slow and cumbersome, he began to take notes in minuscule handwriting on scraps of paper which he crumpled up and threw into his wastepaper basket. Each evening, he retrieved his notes from the wastepaper and smuggled them out of Yasenevo concealed in his shoes. Gradually Mitrokhin became more confident as he satisfied himself that the Yasenevo security guards confined themselves to occasional inspections of bags and briefcases without attempting body searches. After a few months he started taking notes on ordinary sheets of office paper which he took out of his office in his jacket and trouser pockets.

Not once in the twelve years which Mitrokhin spent noting the FCD archives was he stopped and searched. There were, however, some desperately anxious moments. From time to time he realized that, like other FCD officers, he was being tailed—probably by teams from the Seventh (Surveillance) or Second Chief (Counterintelligence) Directorates. On one occasion while he was being followed, he visited the Dynamo Football Club sports shop and, to his horror, found himself standing next to two English visitors whom his watchers might suspect were spies with whom he had arranged a rendezvous. If he was searched, his notes on top secret files would be instantly discovered. Mitrokhin quickly moved on to other sports shops, hoping to convince his watchers that he was on a genuine shopping expedition. As he approached his apartment block, however, he noticed two men standing near the door to his ninth-floor flat. By the time he arrived, they had disappeared. FCD officers had standing instructions to report suspicious incidents such as this, but Mitrokhin did not do so for fear of prompting an investigation which would draw attention to the fact that he had been seen standing next to English visitors.

Each night when he returned to his Moscow flat, Mitrokhin hid his notes beneath his mattress. On weekends he took them to a family dacha thirty-six kilometers from Moscow and typed up as many as possible, though the notes became so numerous that Mitrokhin was forced to leave some of them in handwritten form. He hid the first batches of typescripts and notes in a milk-churn which he buried below the floor. The dacha was built on raised foundations, leaving just enough room for Mitrokhin to crawl beneath the floorboards and dig a hole with a short-handled spade. He frequently found himself crawling through dog and cat feces and sometimes disturbed rats while he was digging, but he consoled himself with the thought that burglars were unlikely to follow him. When the milk-churn was full, he began concealing his notes and typescripts in a tin clothes-boiler. Eventually his archive also filled two tin trunks and two aluminum cases, all of them buried beneath the dacha.

Mitrokhin's most anxious moment came when he arrived at his weekend dacha to find a stranger hiding in the attic. He was instantly reminded of the incident a few years earlier, in August 1971, when a friend of the writer Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn had called unexpectedly at his dacha while Solzhenitsyn was away and surprised two KGB officers in the attic who were probably searching for subversive manuscripts. Other KGB men had quickly arrived on the scene and Solzhenitsyn's friend had been badly beaten. Andropov cynically ordered Solzhenitsyn to be "informed that the participation of the KGB in this incident is a figment of his imagination." The incident was still fresh in Mitrokhin's mind when he arrived at the dacha because he had recently noted files which recorded minutely detailed plans for the persecution of Solzhenitsyn and the "active measures" by which the KGB hoped to discredit him in the Western press. To his immense relief, however, the intruder in the attic turned out to be a homeless squatter.

During summer holidays Mitrokhin worked on batches of his notes at a second family dacha near Penza, carrying them in an old haversack and dressing in peasant clothes in order not to attract attention. In the summer of 1918 Penza, 630 kilometers southeast of Moscow, had been the site of one of the first peasant risings against Bolshevik rule. Lenin blamed the revolt on the kulaks (better-off peasants) and furiously instructed the local Party leaders to hang in public at least one hundred of them so that "for hundreds of kilometers around the people may see and tremble ..." By the 1970s, however, Penza's counter-revolutionary past was long forgotten, and Lenin's bloodthirsty orders for mass executions were kept from public view in the secret section of the Lenin archive.

One of the most striking characteristics of the best literature produced under the Soviet regime is how much of it was written in secret. "To plunge underground," wrote Solzhenitsyn, "to make it your concern not to win the world's recognition— Heaven forbid!—but on the contrary to shun it: this variant of the writer's lot is peculiarly our own, purely Russian, Russian and Soviet!" Between the wars Mikhail Bulgakov had spent twelve years writing The Master and Margarita, one of the greatest novels of the twentieth century, knowing that it could not be published in his lifetime and fearing that it might never appear at all. His widow later recalled how, just before his death in 1940, Bulgakov "made me get out of bed and then, leaning on my arm, he walked through all the rooms, barefoot and in his dressing gown, to make sure that the manuscript of The Master was still there" in its hiding place. Though Bulgakov's great work survived, it was not published until a quarter of a century after his death. As late as 1978, it was denounced in a KGB memorandum to Andropov as "a dangerous weapon in the hands of [Western] ideological centers engaged in ideological sabotage against the Soviet Union."

When Solzhenitsyn began writing in the 1950s, he told himself he had "entered into the inheritance of every modern writer intent on the truth":

I must write simply to ensure that it was not forgotten, that posterity might some day come to know of it. Publication in my own lifetime I must shut out of my mind, out of my dreams.

Just as Mitrokhin's first notes were hidden in a milk-churn beneath his dacha, so Solzhenitsyn's earliest writings, in minuscule handwriting, were squeezed into an empty champagne bottle and buried in his garden. After the brief thaw in the early years of "de-Stalinization" which made possible the publication of Solzhenitsyn's story of life in the gulag, One Day in the Lift of Ivan Denisovich, he waged a time-consuming struggle to try to prevent the KGB from seizing his other manuscripts until he was finally forced into exile in 1974. It did not occur to Mitrokhin to compare himself with such literary giants as Bulgakov and Solzhenitsyn. But, like them, he began assembling his archive "to ensure that the truth was not forgotten, that posterity might some day come to know of it."

Vasili Mitrohkin, The Sword and the Shield.

"All this happened under the very noses of the members of the Russian security services, who apparently did not notice that one of their former colleagues who had had access to top-secret files was going back and forth to one of the now-independent Baltic states (where the Russians were spying up a storm)."

You said it yourself, his defection occurred during the years of the collapse of the Soviet Empire, during 1992, when the KGB was desperately trying to keep its hold over Russia, is understandable that the KGB security services, or what was left of it, were too busy too keep track one among an army of defectors that came from the former USSR to the West during those years.Agrofelipe (talk) 03:36, 15 May 2009 (UTC)

Agrofelipe I haven’t taken the time consuming endeavor of looking for other specific sources casting doubt on the veracity of the Mitrokhin archives, but given the methodology in which the archive was put together, I don’t think it hard to find some valid criticism out there.
Having said that, I don’t have much of a problem on including that information in the article as much as I have it with the way you’re trying to do it.
As far I see, other two people (Eleland and Kupredu) have expressed their disagreement in terms of allowing information from the Mitrokhin archives into the article. I recently reverted another guy’s removal of the section, in order to allow other people to weight in their opinions, now you’re trying to do exactly the same thing; Close the discussion unilaterally because you consider it over.
I see you’re also selectively removing material (which was not even tagged yet) while ignoring statements that have been tagged for some time now. Why is that? I just hope you’re here to improve the article and not to push your POV.
I will restore the material you selectively removed, tag it and if after a reasonable period of time is not sourced, then we should remove it.
I previously proposed posting the Mitrokhin archives in the notice board so that we can request input from neutral editors on its reliability. If most people agree it’s reliable I would have no further issues concerning its inclusion, as long as it is done in a NPOV manner. Likeminas (talk) 15:29, 15 May 2009 (UTC)

Likeminas:

"I haven’t taken the time consuming endeavor of looking for other specific sources casting doubt on the veracity of the Mitrokhin archives, but given the methodology in which the archive was put together, I don’t think it hard to find some valid criticism out there."

If you think you can put together a valid criticism concerning the ACCURACY of the content I would be more than happy to read it.

Maybe we should put a link to the Mitrokhin Archives's discussion page.

"As far I see, other two people (Eleland and Kupredu) have expressed their disagreement in terms of allowing information from the Mitrokhin archives into the article."

I have no reason to suspect about Eleland, but Kudepru without a doubt acted in bad faith trying to delete not only all the references to the declassified KGB intelligence documents but also he tried to delete all references to the interviews and lectures of KGB general Nikolai Leonov about soviet involvement in Allende's government.

"I recently reverted another guy’s removal of the section, in order to allow other people to weight in their opinions, now you’re trying to do exactly the same thing"

Fine I wont touch the tag. However I expect that in a reasonably amount of time the tag could be removed and the content accepted as a valid and genuine source of information as it is in the Mitrokhin Archives' discussion page.

"I see you’re also selectively removing material (which was not even tagged yet) while ignoring statements that have been tagged for some time now. Why is that? I just hope you’re here to improve the article and not to push your POV."

That material has no credited references at all, furthermore I say they are LIES, probably typed by Kudepru in order to downplay the importance of soviet involvement in Allende`s government.

"I will restore the material you selectively removed, tag it and if after a reasonable period of time is not sourced, then we should remove it."

Fine, I wont touch that either however I tell you that this entire paragraph is a blatant LIE:

Allende's Popular Unity government tried to maintain normal relations with the United States. When Chile nationalized its copper industry..... Allende's government was dissapointed that it received far less economic assistance from Russia than it hoped for. Trade between the two countries did not significantly increase and the credits were mainly linked to the purchase of Russian equipment. Moreover, credits from Russia were much less than those provided by China and countries of Eastern Europe.

However I will put a "dispute" tag on it.Agrofelipe (talk) 19:16, 15 May 2009 (UTC)

Ok. Thanks for at least compromising to give it some time.

Likeminas (talk) 19:34, 15 May 2009 (UTC) |}

Allende & trivia

User Luis Napoles seems to spreading in every article in which Allende is named the following trivia:

Allende's aristocratic tastes - fine wines, expensive objets d’art, well-cut suits and elegantly dressed women - were mocked by Cuban communists. The KGB financed his lifestyle.

Not only is writen in a POV way (regardless if verbatim from source) it is also purely trivia and it should be avoided as per WP:TRIVIA Likeminas (talk) 19:28, 8 May 2009 (UTC)

Stop vandalizing the page

This is for you Kupredu, stop removing the references to KGB general Nikolai Leonov and his interview with chilean schoolars and journalists at the Center of Public Studies. If you dont like to read about how much Allende depended on the Soviet support you can just close your eyes and go away.Agrofelipe (talk) 19:59, 9 May 2009 (UTC)