K. Marx and F. Engels taught that in order to win victory over the cla.s.s enemies the proletariat had to be armed, organized and disciplined. A resolute rebuff had to be given to any attempt on the part of the bourgeoisie to disarm it.-Andrei A. Grechko, Soviet minister of defense1 THE AK-47 ARRIVED TO A TIME AND GEOPOLITICAL SITUATION like no other. Through technical intelligence and the dedication of enormous resources, Stalin's military had developed a firearm with promise to be the standard weapon for legions of socialist workers and peasants. A working prototype of a compact automatic rifle had been made that was well suited for most uses in modern war and could be readily mastered by conventional conscripts and violent revolutionaries alike. Yet the a.s.sault rifle's practical merits do not explain the proliferation that followed. The AK-47 was not to break out globally because it was well conceived and well made, or because it pushed Soviet small-arms development ahead of the West. like no other. Through technical intelligence and the dedication of enormous resources, Stalin's military had developed a firearm with promise to be the standard weapon for legions of socialist workers and peasants. A working prototype of a compact automatic rifle had been made that was well suited for most uses in modern war and could be readily mastered by conventional conscripts and violent revolutionaries alike. Yet the a.s.sault rifle's practical merits do not explain the proliferation that followed. The AK-47 was not to break out globally because it was well conceived and well made, or because it pushed Soviet small-arms development ahead of the West.2 Technical qualities did not drive socialist arms production. It was the other way around. Soviet military policies mixed with Kremlin foreign-policy decisions to propel the output that made the AK-47 and its knock-offs available almost anywhere. Were it not for this more complicated set of circ.u.mstances, the AK-47 would have been a less significant weapon, an example of an evolutionary leap in automatic arms that became one nation's princ.i.p.al infantry rifle. Mikhail Kalashnikov would have remained an obscure figure, a man with a surname-like that of Schmeisser or Garand-recognized by specialists, not as an informal global brand. Technical qualities did not drive socialist arms production. It was the other way around. Soviet military policies mixed with Kremlin foreign-policy decisions to propel the output that made the AK-47 and its knock-offs available almost anywhere. Were it not for this more complicated set of circ.u.mstances, the AK-47 would have been a less significant weapon, an example of an evolutionary leap in automatic arms that became one nation's princ.i.p.al infantry rifle. Mikhail Kalashnikov would have remained an obscure figure, a man with a surname-like that of Schmeisser or Garand-recognized by specialists, not as an informal global brand.

In the long history of automatic arms and their roles in war, there were periods when everything changed. In the 1860s, Richard Gatling began selling the first rapid-fire arms that worked well enough for battle. His guns offered small or isolated military detachments a one-sided advantage in colonial actions. In the 1880s, Hiram Maxim contributed an awesomely lethal efficiency when he invented the first truly automatic gun and peddled it in Europe's officer courts. From 1916 through 1918 machine guns became common to all modern ground forces, at terrible cost to men led by officers whose tactics had not kept pace with the instruments of war. Then came the Soviet Union and the design stimuli resulting from World War II. From 1943 to the early 1960s, and centered on the 1950s, automatic arms reached an evolutionary end state. Everything changed once more. In the 1950s, socialist a.s.sault rifles gained international acceptance, and the sprawling infrastructure for their ma.s.s production in multiple countries was created and set in motion. The developments were often subtle and seemingly unrelated-a technical decision here by one ent.i.ty, a political decision there by another. The result, as decisions acc.u.mulated, was an improved AK-47 and a.s.sembly lines opening in one nation, then another, while these weapons began to show up in battle, first as rarities, then curiosities, and then almost everywhere.

What fueled proliferation? Two larger phenomena drove the AK-47's spread from the secrecy of Schurovo to near ubiquity in conflict zones. They can be distilled into categories: the Kremlin under Stalin, and the Kremlin under Khrushchev. Viewed through the prism of the Soviet Union's industrial psychology, Stalin was the AK-47's creator, the impatient dictator whose engineers conjured to existence weapons of all kinds, and whose arms plants perfected and a.s.sembled them at a hurried pace. This phenomenon predated the development of the gun. The same forces that led to the avtomat avtomat's creation predicted a certain degree of its abundance, even-perhaps especially-during a time when Kalashnikov-producing nations lagged in producing consumer goods. The a.s.sault rifle was a priority product in the planned economy of Stalin's police state, which saw itself under threat and was preparing for inevitable war. The emphasis on fielding a.s.sault rifles fit neatly into the larger pattern. As the Soviet Union expanded its nuclear arms programs, it overhauled its conventional equipment and engaged in arms races with the West across an array of items: attack aircraft, submarines, radar systems, tanks. Cold War urgency pressed Soviet engineers to improve the AK-47 and its follow-on arms and rush them to ma.s.s production. Production was linked to the strength, even the survival, of the state. All the while, as the force of Stalin's personality and the particulars of his fears gave rise to the Soviet a.s.sault-rifle industry, the world was being divided into camps. The AK-47 emerged in time to become the princ.i.p.al firearm of one of them. These historical pressures forged the AK-47 into something more than a mere defense product; it was a national, then an international, requirement. But even Stalin could not last forever. Someone else would send the rifles around the world. Nikita S. Khrushchev, who would replace him, became the Kremlin's arms dealer, the man whose government pa.s.sed the weapons out and whose decisions would serve to expand a.s.sault-rifle production to outsized levels.

In the mid-1950s, while the Soviet Union staggered out of Stalin's reign, the Kremlin was in a unique position. It was both the world's standard bearer for socialism and a nation with the military power to help fraternal nations with their armament desires. Soviet arms became a form of Soviet political currency. Nations queued up, seeking their share, as did revolutionary groups, and, later, terrorist organizations. As the AK-47 gained acceptance and approval in the Soviet army, the Kremlin used it as a readily deliverable tool in the game of East-West influence jockeying, both as a diplomatic chip to secure new friendships and as an item to be distributed to those willing to hara.s.s or otherwise occupy the attention of the West. The trends gave energy to each other. As AK-47 production gathered momentum, the Kremlin also began pursuing a more activist foreign policy, and this policy shift encouraged the distribution of more military technology, for reasons practical and political. On the practical side, convincing allies and potential allies to select Soviet equipment expanded standardization. By circulating Soviet patterns across the contested world, Kremlin arms deals made interoperability with Soviet troops easier in the event of future wars and as notions of socialist revolution spread. This was an especially useful pursuit for cartridges and firearms, those most basic tools of war. Standardization also made client states accept that in the event of their own local wars, they would need to be resupplied via the Kremlin. The result was a logistical and psychological arrangement that created dependencies serving Kremlin interests. On the political side, sharing military technology cemented allies and made new friends for the Kremlin, all the while helping to frustrate the West. Clients and customers brought an intangible benefit, too. Foreign acceptance of Russian firearms created the impression that Soviet equipment was preferable to Western military products. For a nation that struggled to manufacture decent elevators and shoes, in a system in which wool shirts were not necessarily wool, approval of a Soviet weapon served as a refreshing endors.e.m.e.nt of an industrial base often making shoddy goods.3 For all of these reasons, the period centered on the 1950s marked the most important years for the Kalashnikov line. The weapon had been developed. Now it would be debugged, and the man credited for its invention would be given public stature and material rewards and would be regarded as a proletarian hero-the role he would live for decades. The infrastructure would be built to manufacture the a.s.sault rifle across the socialist world, and the Russian a.s.sault rifle would see its first combat use-both by conventional forces and by insurgents. The United States military, all the while, would misjudge the meaning and significance of the AK-47's arrival. Beyond dismissing the value of the socialists' main firearm with parochial superiority, it would develop weapons for its own forces that would fail when it mattered most, losing one of the most important but least-chronicled arms races of the Cold War.

For the initial step in these processes, the Soviet army had to organize a base of domestic production, first to improve the AK-47's design and then to equip its combat divisions. The avtomat avtomat was a standout compromise firearm, but like all compromises it was not perfect-not at all. The prototypes had flaws, and initial production proved problematic without extensive fine-tuning and a few major changes. In 1948 the army ordered rifles for field trials to be a.s.sembled in Izhevsk, one of the country's rifle-manufacturing centers. was a standout compromise firearm, but like all compromises it was not perfect-not at all. The prototypes had flaws, and initial production proved problematic without extensive fine-tuning and a few major changes. In 1948 the army ordered rifles for field trials to be a.s.sembled in Izhevsk, one of the country's rifle-manufacturing centers.4 The accounts of when this occurred vary. By one, Mikhail Kalashnikov said that in January 1948, the day after the announcement of the AK-47's victory at Schurovo, he and a small team were transferred to the Izhevsk Motor Plant No. 524, which was officially manufacturing motorcycles. The accounts of when this occurred vary. By one, Mikhail Kalashnikov said that in January 1948, the day after the announcement of the AK-47's victory at Schurovo, he and a small team were transferred to the Izhevsk Motor Plant No. 524, which was officially manufacturing motorcycles.5 Izhevsk was an isolated industrial city almost six hundred miles east of Moscow, a community closed to most outsiders, hemmed off by dense forests and Russian suspicions. It had been a center of rifle production since czarist times. During the revolution, the gun works had gone over to Lenin and his party and helped arm Trotsky's new forces. If socialism promised a grand new order of workers' rule and higher living standards, it did not happen here. Izhevsk was a dingy factory town, with block upon block of bland apartment buildings surrounding factories belching dark smoke. The Orthodox church at the city's center had been converted into a movie house. The brick-walled gun works, near the sh.o.r.e of a cold polluted lake, was sealed off by foreboding iron fences. A nearby steel plant kept it fed. Far from Moscow and Leningrad, this drab milieu was to be Kalashnikov's new home. Izhevsk was an isolated industrial city almost six hundred miles east of Moscow, a community closed to most outsiders, hemmed off by dense forests and Russian suspicions. It had been a center of rifle production since czarist times. During the revolution, the gun works had gone over to Lenin and his party and helped arm Trotsky's new forces. If socialism promised a grand new order of workers' rule and higher living standards, it did not happen here. Izhevsk was a dingy factory town, with block upon block of bland apartment buildings surrounding factories belching dark smoke. The Orthodox church at the city's center had been converted into a movie house. The brick-walled gun works, near the sh.o.r.e of a cold polluted lake, was sealed off by foreboding iron fences. A nearby steel plant kept it fed. Far from Moscow and Leningrad, this drab milieu was to be Kalashnikov's new home.6 The initial manufacturing efforts posed problems. The AK-47 remained an unfinished idea, a set of integrated firearm design concepts that together made an automatic rifle. It needed substantial refinement. Lingering concerns about the weapon's accuracy prompted the army to hold more tests, and, at one point, to try reducing the power of the M1943 cartridge.7 Durability was a concern, too, as some parts, including the return spring, were insufficiently st.u.r.dy. Durability was a concern, too, as some parts, including the return spring, were insufficiently st.u.r.dy.8 A batch of rifles was a.s.sembled and in May 1948 a second plant-Factory No. 74, the Izhevsk Machine Engineering Plant, or Izhmash-was ordered to produce the AK-47 as well. A batch of rifles was a.s.sembled and in May 1948 a second plant-Factory No. 74, the Izhevsk Machine Engineering Plant, or Izhmash-was ordered to produce the AK-47 as well.9 Once the first batch was finished, the rifles were sealed in special containers and sent to the army. Two months later, Kalashnikov was summoned to the Main Artillery Department in Moscow, and then rode by train with Nikolai N. Voronov, chief marshal of Soviet artillery, to the location where the field tests were held. Kalashnikov claimed to have already been a favorite of Voronov. The marshal, he said, had helped free up funding for the AK-47 prototypes after a lower-ranking general had refused it. Once the first batch was finished, the rifles were sealed in special containers and sent to the army. Two months later, Kalashnikov was summoned to the Main Artillery Department in Moscow, and then rode by train with Nikolai N. Voronov, chief marshal of Soviet artillery, to the location where the field tests were held. Kalashnikov claimed to have already been a favorite of Voronov. The marshal, he said, had helped free up funding for the AK-47 prototypes after a lower-ranking general had refused it.10 Field trials are a normal stage in preparing a rifle for military service. What was revealing about this trial had little to do with the tests themselves, but with Kalashnikov's behavior around senior officers. On the train back to Moscow, Marshal Voronov called Kalashnikov to a meeting, where Voronov questioned him in front of a group. As Kalashnikov described it, the session was less an interrogation than an ice-breaker, an effort to learn more of a young noncommissioned officer the Soviet Union was to catapult to fame. Voronov's questions covered Kalashnikov's family and background-those years before Kalashnikov became a konstruktor. konstruktor. This was a potentially treacherous patch for a This was a potentially treacherous patch for a kulak' kulak's son. The sergeant, mindful of the dangers, resorted to deception. "I obviously couldn't relate my real life story to them," he said. "If I had done so, I would surely not have been allowed to carry on with my career as a designer. G.o.d knows what might have happened to me." Life in Stalin's Soviet Union had conditioned him. He was familiar with the methods of editing autobiography. "I'd prepared a long time in advance for it," he added. "I 'omitted' certain details."11 During this meeting, Voronov asked Kalashnikov if he wanted to remain a soldier or would prefer to be demobilized to reserve status and become a civilian designer. Kalashnikov chose civilian life. The process began for his discharge. (The promotions Kalashnikov would receive in future years-lifting him to lieutenant general-were ceremonial, given for political reasons, not because of military service.) During this meeting, Voronov asked Kalashnikov if he wanted to remain a soldier or would prefer to be demobilized to reserve status and become a civilian designer. Kalashnikov chose civilian life. The process began for his discharge. (The promotions Kalashnikov would receive in future years-lifting him to lieutenant general-were ceremonial, given for political reasons, not because of military service.) Work continued on the rifle. Some changes in 1948 were significant. The ejector was redesigned, to be similar to that of the SG-43, a medium machine gun. The return spring was thickened, to increase its reliability and longevity. Some changes were nettlesome and demanded time. One engineer eventually worked for four years to improve the structural integrity of the hammer.12 A small change was ergonomic-the operating handle was recast to a crescent shape, like that of the American Garand, which made it easier to manipulate. There were others. No matter the changes, the AK-47's accuracy could not be significantly improved; when it came to precise shooting, it was a stubbornly mediocre arm. A small change was ergonomic-the operating handle was recast to a crescent shape, like that of the American Garand, which made it easier to manipulate. There were others. No matter the changes, the AK-47's accuracy could not be significantly improved; when it came to precise shooting, it was a stubbornly mediocre arm.i The army faced a choice: proceed with a less accurate a.s.sault rifle, or delay distribution of a weapon with tremendous firepower to every Soviet soldier. The army decided to proceed, opting for less precision to keep production moving forward. The army faced a choice: proceed with a less accurate a.s.sault rifle, or delay distribution of a weapon with tremendous firepower to every Soviet soldier. The army decided to proceed, opting for less precision to keep production moving forward.13 As a result, the primary socialist battle rifle would never be as accurate as many others, and this relative inaccuracy-a tradeoff for reliability-would be grounds for sustained criticism in future decades. As a result, the primary socialist battle rifle would never be as accurate as many others, and this relative inaccuracy-a tradeoff for reliability-would be grounds for sustained criticism in future decades.14 After all of these efforts, the AK-47 had other flaws as well. After the final round was fired from a magazine, the bolt of a Kalashnikov rode forward and remained closed, as if another round had been chambered and the rifle were ready to fire again. This made it impossible to tell whether a weapon that had been fired repeatedly was loaded or empty; here was a shortcoming in design. It meant that a combatant, midfight, might not realize his weapon had no cartridges. (The bolts of many other automatic rifles lock in an open position when a magazine is empty. This signals immediately that it is time to reload, and leaves one step fewer in the loading cycle-because the bolt is already open, it need not be pulled back, which might save a second when seconds count.) Another flaw was potentially less serious, but still a sign of poor conception. The rifle's selector lever, of which Mikhail Kalashnikov was proud, was stiff and noisy when it was manipulated between safe, automatic, and semiautomatic settings. For a soldier trying to be silent-as in the moment before an ambush-this pitfall posed a problem.

As more people contributed, the Soviet a.s.sault rifle, already a composite creation designed by multiple contributors, became still more of a people's gun-a weapon whose shape, functions, and features were determined by the desires of a committee and the efforts of collective work. Dmitri Shirayev, a Soviet and later Russian armorer who said that many of the AK-47's designers were denied public credit for their contributions, a.s.signed the weapon a telling nickname: The a.s.s-47, an acronym for Avtomat Sovetskogo Soyuza Avtomat Sovetskogo Soyuza-the automatic made by the Soviet Union.15 (Shirayev coined this t.i.tle, the a.s.s-47, in a Russian magazine article after the Soviet Union collapsed. He worked at a government arms-research center at the time. The day after the article appeared, he was fired.) (Shirayev coined this t.i.tle, the a.s.s-47, in a Russian magazine article after the Soviet Union collapsed. He worked at a government arms-research center at the time. The day after the article appeared, he was fired.) The improvements to the AK-47's ma.s.s-production models may have been clouded further still, given what is known about the whereabouts of the German designer Hugo Schmeisser, who had been captured by the Red Army and relocated to Izhevsk after the war. Schmeisser was intimately familiar with an a.s.sault rifle's difficult path from drafting table to a.s.sembly line and had been through many redesigns with his sturmgewehr. sturmgewehr. He would have seemed the ideal engineer to a.s.sist with overcoming the problems faced in converting the AK-47 from contest winner to factory product. Schmeisser lived in Izhevsk during pivotal years of the rifle's refinement. Neither the Soviet Union nor Russia has been forthcoming with details of his work. His contributions, if any, remain a historical question mark. He would have seemed the ideal engineer to a.s.sist with overcoming the problems faced in converting the AK-47 from contest winner to factory product. Schmeisser lived in Izhevsk during pivotal years of the rifle's refinement. Neither the Soviet Union nor Russia has been forthcoming with details of his work. His contributions, if any, remain a historical question mark.16 A pair of rival views predominates. One says that there could be no explanation for Schmeisser's presence in Izhevsk, of all places in the Soviet s.p.a.ce, except to capitalize on his knowledge of a.s.sault rifles and the nuances of their ma.s.s production. It could not be a coincidence, in other words, that the preeminent German a.s.sault-rifle designer happened to be in the city where the Soviet Union sought to replicate his work. The other view holds that Schmeisser, as a foreigner, was not allowed near the early AK-47, the technical details of which in the late 1940s and early 1950s were still cla.s.sified. His presence in Izhevsk, in this view, was to work on well-established weapons. Shirayev took this position. "The only thing Schmeisser did in Izhevsk was learn to drink vodka," he said. A pair of rival views predominates. One says that there could be no explanation for Schmeisser's presence in Izhevsk, of all places in the Soviet s.p.a.ce, except to capitalize on his knowledge of a.s.sault rifles and the nuances of their ma.s.s production. It could not be a coincidence, in other words, that the preeminent German a.s.sault-rifle designer happened to be in the city where the Soviet Union sought to replicate his work. The other view holds that Schmeisser, as a foreigner, was not allowed near the early AK-47, the technical details of which in the late 1940s and early 1950s were still cla.s.sified. His presence in Izhevsk, in this view, was to work on well-established weapons. Shirayev took this position. "The only thing Schmeisser did in Izhevsk was learn to drink vodka," he said.17 Whoever was behind each design change, the improvements satisfied the army. In summer 1949, the army formally designated the AK-47 the standard rifle for Soviet forces. Then a problem demanded the engineers' attention. The original weapons had been made with a stamped-metal receiver. The receiver is the part of the rifle that contains the trigger group, holds the magazine, and in which the bolt moves back and forth-the housing containing the rifle's guts. The original AK-47 design did not lend itself to the available Soviet manufacturing processes, and workers were unable to manufacture the rifles in large quant.i.ties without many rejected receivers. This threatened production. A new engineering team, led by Valery Kharkov,18 was a.s.signed to find a fix. Kharkov's team arrived at a solution-a solid piece of forged steel was machined into shape, grind by grind, to fashion a replacement part. From the perspective of quality, the solution was admirable. The solid-steel receiver was singularly strong. was a.s.signed to find a fix. Kharkov's team arrived at a solution-a solid piece of forged steel was machined into shape, grind by grind, to fashion a replacement part. From the perspective of quality, the solution was admirable. The solid-steel receiver was singularly strong.19 From the perspective of the Soviet economy, and of an army eager for its new rifle, the fix had drawbacks. Machining a receiver from a block of steel meant wasting much of that steel. More than four pounds was milled away for every receiver, a considerable loss, considering that a receiver weighed less than a pound and a half. It also consumed time-requiring more than 120 operations by laborers for one part alone. The lost steel and hours increased costs. The available sources differ on when production of the rifles began. One account from Izhevsk said that by late 1949 both AK-47s-the original version and the variant with a solid steel receiver-were put into side-by-side production. From the perspective of the Soviet economy, and of an army eager for its new rifle, the fix had drawbacks. Machining a receiver from a block of steel meant wasting much of that steel. More than four pounds was milled away for every receiver, a considerable loss, considering that a receiver weighed less than a pound and a half. It also consumed time-requiring more than 120 operations by laborers for one part alone. The lost steel and hours increased costs. The available sources differ on when production of the rifles began. One account from Izhevsk said that by late 1949 both AK-47s-the original version and the variant with a solid steel receiver-were put into side-by-side production.20 Another, more thorough account said the engineers did not work out an acceptable version of a milled receiver until late 1950, when the modified weapon was approved by a commission. Another, more thorough account said the engineers did not work out an acceptable version of a milled receiver until late 1950, when the modified weapon was approved by a commission.21 What is uncontested is that Kalashnikov's original design was phased out. The variant with a solid-steel receiver, its production made possible by a modification designed by others, was to be the predominant form of AK-47 for the next decade. The rifle was distributed in two forms-a wooden-stock model and an otherwise identical model with a collapsible metal stock, which, when folded, reduced the length to less than twenty-six inches overall. The folding-stock rifle was designed for paratroopers and soldiers who needed a shorter firearm, such as tank crews and armored troops. Automatic rifles had a.s.sumed a tiny form. At less than two feet two inches long, the collapsible Kalashnikov was now shorter than a regulation tennis racket. It had roughly the weight of an axe. Dr. Gatling's vision had come to this. What is uncontested is that Kalashnikov's original design was phased out. The variant with a solid-steel receiver, its production made possible by a modification designed by others, was to be the predominant form of AK-47 for the next decade. The rifle was distributed in two forms-a wooden-stock model and an otherwise identical model with a collapsible metal stock, which, when folded, reduced the length to less than twenty-six inches overall. The folding-stock rifle was designed for paratroopers and soldiers who needed a shorter firearm, such as tank crews and armored troops. Automatic rifles had a.s.sumed a tiny form. At less than two feet two inches long, the collapsible Kalashnikov was now shorter than a regulation tennis racket. It had roughly the weight of an axe. Dr. Gatling's vision had come to this.

With his namesake rifle undergoing refinement, Mikhail Kalashnikov experienced his first tastes of material comfort and fame. In 1949 the Soviet Union awarded him the State Stalin Prize, one of the highest honors the government gave to its citizens. The prize, in recognition of the AK-47's selection for general service, included a bonus of 150,000 rubles- a breathtaking sum for a laborer in the years after the Great Patriotic War. The bonus equaled almost thirteen years' worth of salary for the more fortunate workers in Izhevsk.22 Kalashnikov had lived across a spectrum of Soviet economic circ.u.mstances. Life on the Altai steppe had been grinding. In exile he had fared better than only the hungry and thinly clothed prisoners of the GULAG. The Red Army had provided him an economically stable lifestyle, though conditions for enlisted men were decidedly spartan. Once Kalashnikov became an arms designer he enjoyed comforts unavailable to many Soviet citizens, particularly during the war. His salary of fifteen hundred rubles in 1945 was several times that of a typical laborer. For seven years, during the war and in the lean period after, he had been adequately provided for. The Stalin Prize was life-changing. It vaulted Kalashnikov to a rarefied place in the Soviet social and economic hierarchy. Instantly, he could afford things most of his fellow citizens could not. His family, by one account, was the first in Izhevsk to own a refrigerator, a vacuum cleaner, and an automobile. Kalashnikov had lived across a spectrum of Soviet economic circ.u.mstances. Life on the Altai steppe had been grinding. In exile he had fared better than only the hungry and thinly clothed prisoners of the GULAG. The Red Army had provided him an economically stable lifestyle, though conditions for enlisted men were decidedly spartan. Once Kalashnikov became an arms designer he enjoyed comforts unavailable to many Soviet citizens, particularly during the war. His salary of fifteen hundred rubles in 1945 was several times that of a typical laborer. For seven years, during the war and in the lean period after, he had been adequately provided for. The Stalin Prize was life-changing. It vaulted Kalashnikov to a rarefied place in the Soviet social and economic hierarchy. Instantly, he could afford things most of his fellow citizens could not. His family, by one account, was the first in Izhevsk to own a refrigerator, a vacuum cleaner, and an automobile.23 "At the time in Moscow shops there appeared Pobeda cars manufactured at the Volga car factory," he said. "The price tag was 16,000 rubles. Myself, a senior sergeant at that time, I bought a car." "At the time in Moscow shops there appeared Pobeda cars manufactured at the Volga car factory," he said. "The price tag was 16,000 rubles. Myself, a senior sergeant at that time, I bought a car."24 Pobeda Pobeda is Russian for victory. The automobile bearing this name was a popular postwar sedan, but very hard to obtain. Ownership of a Pobeda often marked a man with connections. Only 235,000 were made in nearly thirteen years, a tiny figure in a nation of roughly 200 million people. Kalashnikov was among the fortunate few to acquire one. Photographs from the time show Katya, his wife, in a glistening knee-length fur coat. He was twenty-nine years old in a parsimonious nation suffering shortages. He had managed a vertical social climb, to considerable reward. is Russian for victory. The automobile bearing this name was a popular postwar sedan, but very hard to obtain. Ownership of a Pobeda often marked a man with connections. Only 235,000 were made in nearly thirteen years, a tiny figure in a nation of roughly 200 million people. Kalashnikov was among the fortunate few to acquire one. Photographs from the time show Katya, his wife, in a glistening knee-length fur coat. He was twenty-nine years old in a parsimonious nation suffering shortages. He had managed a vertical social climb, to considerable reward.ii The news that a Stalin Prize had been awarded to a sergeant was published in Soviet newspapers, pushing Kalashnikov into mainstream Soviet conversation. He was a person of note now, a model citizen. The story of the unlettered enlisted man from a tank regiment, wounded in battle, who conceived of new tools to defend the Motherland, was the type of proletarian parable the Soviet Union wished to project. Stalin had killed off many of the party's leading figures. The purges had thinned the ranks of promising citizens across society. New heroes were necessary, especially those who would be unquestionably subordinate to Stalin, and thus pose no threat. Kalashnikov was one of them. It was a role for which he would prove eager and well tempered, though it required lying. As his story circulated, it again was an edited biography. His time as an exile, his father's death, his flight to the Kazakh rail yard-these things were not told. Kalashnikov had relocated to Izhevsk, where the a.s.sault rifle was soon to be manufactured by the millions. He was married to Katya, who had borne him a daughter. His life had a.s.sumed its shape: soldier-konstruktor, heroic genius, representative proletarian man. The years of wandering and wondering were over. Kalashnikov had obliterated his past and found the Soviet version of the good life. Neither he nor the party would endanger this by raising unwanted facts. "Could I have brought to light this part of my life in those straightforward times?" he said. "Of course it would have told upon my relations with the authorities. They would have found many things in my revelations which, from their highly ideological point of view, would not have let me become what I am now. Who would have allowed me to work in such a secret domain as weapons?" heroic genius, representative proletarian man. The years of wandering and wondering were over. Kalashnikov had obliterated his past and found the Soviet version of the good life. Neither he nor the party would endanger this by raising unwanted facts. "Could I have brought to light this part of my life in those straightforward times?" he said. "Of course it would have told upon my relations with the authorities. They would have found many things in my revelations which, from their highly ideological point of view, would not have let me become what I am now. Who would have allowed me to work in such a secret domain as weapons?"iv25 In 1950, the Communist Party extended Kalashnikov's favored status further. That year, at age thirty, he was chosen to be a deputy in the Supreme Soviet-Stalin's compliant legislature. Kalashnikov described his reaction, when told of his candidacy, as "flabbergasted." Soviet elections were ostensibly free but entirely rigged. He knew his election was a matter of form. He also understood that he had at best a pa.s.sing familiarity with Udmurtia, the region he was to represent. He had relocated there two years before. "Apart from my factory colleagues, I knew n.o.body and n.o.body knew me," he said.26 Ignorance of local affairs was not an obstacle to holding office. The job was ornamental, and seats were filled by archetypical socialist citizens. The legislators' grand gatherings in the Kremlin brought together a selectively a.s.sembled body of cosmonauts, musicians, gold medalists from international athletic compet.i.tions, decorated laborers, and the like. They were not expected to deliberate or to provide checks and balances to Stalin's power. They were expected to vote as they were told. Kalashnikov was a.s.signed to the budget commission, though he had no training in economics or financial matters. The job had its material rewards, however, including regular travel to Moscow to stay in the Soviet Union's finest hotels. As a deputy, Kalashnikov also exercised his connections to Dmitri Ustinov, who had been Stalin's commissar of armaments during the war, to secure a four-wheel-drive car-a well-chosen ent.i.tlement for life in Udmurtia, with its heavy snowfalls and unpaved roads. In spite of the privileges, the first session Kalashnikov attended, in 1950, was grounds for dread. When he arrived at Spa.s.sky Gate, the Kremlin's entrance, he worried he would be discovered as a former exile. He didn't need to shudder. His past was not known. No guard would stop him. Once inside, he looked upon Stalin for the first time. The general secretary inspired fear like no other, the dictator atop his personality cult and the leader whose policies had cast Kalashnikov's family into the wilderness. Kalashnikov had become his devotee. He was enthralled. Ignorance of local affairs was not an obstacle to holding office. The job was ornamental, and seats were filled by archetypical socialist citizens. The legislators' grand gatherings in the Kremlin brought together a selectively a.s.sembled body of cosmonauts, musicians, gold medalists from international athletic compet.i.tions, decorated laborers, and the like. They were not expected to deliberate or to provide checks and balances to Stalin's power. They were expected to vote as they were told. Kalashnikov was a.s.signed to the budget commission, though he had no training in economics or financial matters. The job had its material rewards, however, including regular travel to Moscow to stay in the Soviet Union's finest hotels. As a deputy, Kalashnikov also exercised his connections to Dmitri Ustinov, who had been Stalin's commissar of armaments during the war, to secure a four-wheel-drive car-a well-chosen ent.i.tlement for life in Udmurtia, with its heavy snowfalls and unpaved roads. In spite of the privileges, the first session Kalashnikov attended, in 1950, was grounds for dread. When he arrived at Spa.s.sky Gate, the Kremlin's entrance, he worried he would be discovered as a former exile. He didn't need to shudder. His past was not known. No guard would stop him. Once inside, he looked upon Stalin for the first time. The general secretary inspired fear like no other, the dictator atop his personality cult and the leader whose policies had cast Kalashnikov's family into the wilderness. Kalashnikov had become his devotee. He was enthralled.

I was filled with awe. I remember with perfect clarity the way he came into the great hall in which we had gathered. Stalin was wearing his eternal semi-military suit. He sat in his place, the same one as ever, in the midst of a total silence. And then there was [a] thunderous outbreak of applause that lasted an eternity, since n.o.body wanted to be the first to stop! After several minutes, Stalin gestured with his hand, asking for quiet in the a.s.sembly. All at once, you could have heard a pin drop.27 And then the dictator died. The reign of terror closed with a whimper. After a dinner with party officials and Lavrenty Beria, Stalin was found on the floor of one of his residences on March 1, 1953, incapacitated by what seemed a stroke.vii He died on March 5. Kalashnikov was devastated. He had separated Stalin's predation on the Soviet Union's people from the despot himself. When party newspapers had written of enemies of the state, of saboteurs and lurking a.s.sa.s.sins, Kalashnikov accepted the propaganda. He wanted the traitors-many of whose plots were fabricated by the dictator himself-put to death. Stalin's infiltration into Kalashnikov's mind had eclipsed the most basic human relationships. "He was almost closer to us than our own parents," he wrote. "When Stalin was buried, the whole population wept. We felt that life couldn't go on without him. Fear of the future gripped our hearts." He died on March 5. Kalashnikov was devastated. He had separated Stalin's predation on the Soviet Union's people from the despot himself. When party newspapers had written of enemies of the state, of saboteurs and lurking a.s.sa.s.sins, Kalashnikov accepted the propaganda. He wanted the traitors-many of whose plots were fabricated by the dictator himself-put to death. Stalin's infiltration into Kalashnikov's mind had eclipsed the most basic human relationships. "He was almost closer to us than our own parents," he wrote. "When Stalin was buried, the whole population wept. We felt that life couldn't go on without him. Fear of the future gripped our hearts."28 Kalashnikov was not naive. He knew the terror. But he accepted the sinister side of the system that had chosen him for rewards. He had joined the Communist Party. He had become a party man. Kalashnikov was not naive. He knew the terror. But he accepted the sinister side of the system that had chosen him for rewards. He had joined the Communist Party. He had become a party man.

The shifts were tectonic. Beria became a deputy prime minister and set out upon what seemed a program of domestic reforms, officially banning torture, a jarring idea given the violent excesses of the chekists chekists he had led. Beria was not to last. A plot to remove him was organized by Nikita Khrushchev and other party figures. He was arrested on June 26. His reversal of fortune was total. He had been untouchable, the man who sat beside Stalin and supervised the incarceration and killing of uncountable Soviet citizens, the architect of a great sorrow. Now he was exposed and alone. Shorn of his wire-rimmed spectacles, he groveled in a letter from his cell, offering to work as a laborer anywhere. he had led. Beria was not to last. A plot to remove him was organized by Nikita Khrushchev and other party figures. He was arrested on June 26. His reversal of fortune was total. He had been untouchable, the man who sat beside Stalin and supervised the incarceration and killing of uncountable Soviet citizens, the architect of a great sorrow. Now he was exposed and alone. Shorn of his wire-rimmed spectacles, he groveled in a letter from his cell, offering to work as a laborer anywhere.

Dear comrades, you should understand that I am a faithful soldier of our Motherland, a loyal son of the party of Lenin and Stalin and your loyal friend and comrade. Send me wherever you wish, to any kind of work, [even] a most insignificant one. See me out, I will be able to work ten more years and I will work with all my soul and with complete energy. I am saying this from the bottom of my heart, it is not true that since I have held a big post I would not be able to perform in a small position. This can easily be proven in any region or area, in a Soviet farm, in a collective farm, on a construction site of our glorious Motherland. And you will see that in 2 to 3 years I will improve my behavior strongly and will be still of some use for you. I am to my last breath faithful to our beloved party and our Soviet government.

Beria's last breath was not far off. He was tried in the fashion he would recognize: in secret, on largely fabricated charges, before a court that offered no appeal. After the verdict on December 23 he was blindfolded, gagged, and shot.29 The events of 1953 allowed the Kremlin to reconsider its role at the international socialist vanguard. The changes-first in personnel, then policies-were integral to the a.s.sault rifle's spread. Khrushchev became general secretary in the autumn, inheriting both the foreign-policy portfolio and the military-industrial complex. He grasped ways the two could be linked.

One early challenge was in inst.i.tutionalizing security arrangements in the European buffer zone. In World War II, the Soviet military had moved onto foreign territory previously under German occupation and become the region's premier military power. During the war the Red Army equipped and trained fighting units in Eastern Europe that became foundations for new national armies, all subordinate to Soviet command. For the Cold War's opening years, such relationships were sufficient for the Kremlin. But in 1949, Western powers had formed NATO and sponsored the creation of the Federal Republic of Germany. The Kremlin replied by founding the German Democratic Republic on the portion of Germany under Soviet occupation. Moves and countermoves continued. In 1955, West Germany joined NATO. The Kremlin's parallel step would stoke a.s.sault-rifle proliferation in ways that persist: It bound its satellites together into a mutual-defense agreement of its own, the Warsaw Pact. The treaty was signed by eight nations-the Soviet Union, Albania, Bulgaria, Czechoslovakia, East Germany, Hungary, Poland, and Romania-in May 1955. Its initial significance was retaliatory and symbolic, a t.i.t-for-tat escalation. In the event of armed attack on any one member, the others agreed to come to the attacked nation's aid. The parties also declared, in a bit of doublespeak boilerplate, that they would strive for "effective measures for universal reduction of armaments." The armaments buildup was actually just about to begin, spurred by the treaty's fifth article, in which the members accepted a unified command.30 In fall 1955, when the details of the command were circulated via a top-secret memorandum from Moscow, the commander's deputies were instructed that they would be responsible for supplying "military items, in accordance with accepted systems of armaments." In fall 1955, when the details of the command were circulated via a top-secret memorandum from Moscow, the commander's deputies were instructed that they would be responsible for supplying "military items, in accordance with accepted systems of armaments."31 The language referred to Soviet-pattern weapons, including the most common weapons of all-cartridges and firearms. The instructions formalized the idea of standardizing equipment in the Eastern bloc, a concept that became a Warsaw Pact cornerstone. The goal became: The language referred to Soviet-pattern weapons, including the most common weapons of all-cartridges and firearms. The instructions formalized the idea of standardizing equipment in the Eastern bloc, a concept that became a Warsaw Pact cornerstone. The goal became: . . . constant modernization of weapons and combat equipment and the development of new and more sophisticated prototypes of weaponry. The Soviet Union plays a leading role here. Possessing a powerful military-economic potential and scientific-technological base, it gives the necessary a.s.sistance to fraternal countries in strengthening their defensive might. Not only direct deliveries of new types of weapons and combat equipment are made, but also licenses and technical doc.u.mentation are transferred for their production. Joint scientific research and test-design work is conducted, and scientific-technological consultations are widely employed.The Soviet state plays a large role in the creation and development of the defense industry in the fraternal countries. One of the important ways for coordinating military-technical policy is to standardize weapons and combat equipment of the allied armies, which simplifies their materialtechnical support in case of military operations.32 In this way, most Eastern bloc soldiers would carry the same weapons,33 which fired the same ammunition, thereby streamlining production and training while reducing the expenditure of research-and-design energy for weapons that had already met the state's standards. This made military sense, albeit for a war that never came. Looked upon years later, a different result is obvious: The political and industrial groundwork for overcapacity in a.s.sault-rifle production had been laid. Plants producing AK-47s, their derivatives, and the ammunition they fired were sponsored and subsidized in Bulgaria, East Germany, Hungary, Poland, and Romania. These countries not only would arm their military and security services with them, but would become a.s.sault-rifle exporters. Dangerous rules applied. The a.s.sault rifle was a socialist military product. Its production, sale, and distribution were not controlled by market forces. They were connected to centralized decisions and national goals. The fine print of the Warsaw Pact had put the Kalashnikov a.s.sault rifle at the center of a socialist arms franchise, an example of the law of unintended consequences viewed through the prism of the Cold War. Production would surge under the the unified command's directives. And the bloc's members would provide arms for conflicts long after their alliance was no more, extending the treaty's influence beyond the region in indelible ways. which fired the same ammunition, thereby streamlining production and training while reducing the expenditure of research-and-design energy for weapons that had already met the state's standards. This made military sense, albeit for a war that never came. Looked upon years later, a different result is obvious: The political and industrial groundwork for overcapacity in a.s.sault-rifle production had been laid. Plants producing AK-47s, their derivatives, and the ammunition they fired were sponsored and subsidized in Bulgaria, East Germany, Hungary, Poland, and Romania. These countries not only would arm their military and security services with them, but would become a.s.sault-rifle exporters. Dangerous rules applied. The a.s.sault rifle was a socialist military product. Its production, sale, and distribution were not controlled by market forces. They were connected to centralized decisions and national goals. The fine print of the Warsaw Pact had put the Kalashnikov a.s.sault rifle at the center of a socialist arms franchise, an example of the law of unintended consequences viewed through the prism of the Cold War. Production would surge under the the unified command's directives. And the bloc's members would provide arms for conflicts long after their alliance was no more, extending the treaty's influence beyond the region in indelible ways.

Under Khrushchev, the Kremlin also distributed arms and arms technology beyond its European va.s.sals. There were two princ.i.p.al types of arrangements: first, direct transfers of finished goods, and later the transfer of licenses and technical specifications to produce them. In September 1955, within months of the Warsaw Pact's signing ceremony, Khrushchev had discovered the political practicality of the arms industry and the new alliance, too. Using Czechoslovakia as a cover, the Kremlin organized a huge arms sale to Gamal Abdel Na.s.ser of Egypt.34 The deal included tanks, airplanes, artillery, and Czech small arms, and equipped Egyptian forces for war with the young Israeli state. It also thrust the Kremlin into Middle Eastern brinksmanship, putting it into compet.i.tion with the West and presaging arms deals with Egypt, Syria, Iran, Iraq, and elsewhere. The deal included tanks, airplanes, artillery, and Czech small arms, and equipped Egyptian forces for war with the young Israeli state. It also thrust the Kremlin into Middle Eastern brinksmanship, putting it into compet.i.tion with the West and presaging arms deals with Egypt, Syria, Iran, Iraq, and elsewhere.

As Khrushchev's agents closed his deal with Na.s.ser, the Soviet army was arranging for the first arms plant outside Russia to manufacture AK-47s. The plant, an urgent project for China, had origins reaching to a secret collaboration between Stalin and Mao. In late May 1951, Xu Xiangqian, chief of staff of the People's Liberation Army, had led a delegation to Moscow. Mao's victory over the Kuomintang, the party of Chiang Kai-shek, and the founding of the People's Republic of China had reinforced Stalin's almost religious conviction of the allure of socialism and global revolution. The Chinese wanted to update their arms industry. The Soviet Union was the natural source. There was precedent. Soviet arms technicians had surrept.i.tiously helped Mao's arms production since at least 1949, even while the Kremlin maintained diplomatic ties with the Kuomintang. In the summer of 1949, a senior Chinese revolutionary, Liu Shaoqi, who later became China's head of state, secretly traveled to Russia, where he met Stalin and appealed for help in arming the People's Liberation Army. The Soviet Union sent two hundred technicians to a.s.sist the effort, including eighty who rode back to Manchuria on the same train with the Chinese delegation. This was part of a slyly hedged Kremlin bet to put the Soviet Union in the winner's camp. In November 1950, as the Korean War was accelerating, Mao asked Stalin for a long list of weapons for the war, including more than 140,000 rifles, 9,000 machine guns, and 1,000 pistols for pilots. Within two days, Stalin personally approved a list. In August 1951, Mao sought more aid, enough to arm as many as sixty divisions. The Soviet army agreed to provide specifications for eight weapons, including Mosin-Nagant rifles, 82-millimeter mortars, machine guns, pistols, and an antiaircraft gun. Doc.u.ments were transferred and a Russian delegation traveled to China for at least four months, to outfit plants and train workers. By 1953, production had begun, and cooperation expanded to include artillery and tanks. The AK-47 was still in its earliest production runs; the Soviet army did not initially share the specifications.

Four years later, under Khrushchev, the impetus for Chinese production of Kalashnikov-pattern rifles began, by one account, with a minor diplomatic jolt. In June 1955 a Chinese delegation toured the arms plant in Tula, where China's second machinery minister, General Zhao Erlu, saw Slavic laborers producing the SKS. The minister was furious. The only data for rifles provided in 1951, by this account, had been for the M-44 Mosin-Nagant rifle, a weapon based on designs that were decades old. China wanted newer guns. Negotiations resumed. The Soviet army promptly agreed to share the technology behind the M1943 cartridge and both rifles that fired it-the SKS and the AK-47.35 (Another Chinese account described a less dramatic transfer of SKS and AK-47 technology. In this version, as part of Khrushchev's courting of China early in his tenure as general secretary, the Soviet military offered the technical specifications for the two rifles, beginning with an exchange of letters in early 1955. The AK-47, by this account, was offered as a replacement to the PPSh, which the Chinese had been manufacturing with Soviet approval for several years.) This much is clear: Production of the Type 56, the first Chinese version of the AK-47, began in a blandly named arms plant, Factory 626, in Beian. (Another Chinese account described a less dramatic transfer of SKS and AK-47 technology. In this version, as part of Khrushchev's courting of China early in his tenure as general secretary, the Soviet military offered the technical specifications for the two rifles, beginning with an exchange of letters in early 1955. The AK-47, by this account, was offered as a replacement to the PPSh, which the Chinese had been manufacturing with Soviet approval for several years.) This much is clear: Production of the Type 56, the first Chinese version of the AK-47, began in a blandly named arms plant, Factory 626, in Beian.

Khrushchev had moved quickly. At the time of Stalin's funeral, the AK-47 had been made only in Izhevsk. Three years later, with the beginning of Chinese production, the world's two largest military forces had parallel a.s.sembly lines. By 1958, the Kremlin would share AK-47 technology with North Korea. The Soviet Union's escalating military aid to Egypt would then expand to tool a Kalashnikov plant there. Between these deals and the rolling openings of a.s.sault-rifle a.s.sembly lines in the Warsaw Pactiii the Kremlin had ensured production of the Kalashnikov at a scale no other firearm had ever seen. The next questions were not industrial or political. They were tactical. How would the a.s.sault rifle be used? the Kremlin had ensured production of the Kalashnikov at a scale no other firearm had ever seen. The next questions were not industrial or political. They were tactical. How would the a.s.sault rifle be used?

The armored column growled through the streets of Budapest and came to a stop in Boraros Square, idling near the eastern embankment of the Danube River. Leading the formation were six Soviet tanks, including three T-54s, the most powerful tank the Soviet Union had yet made. Behind them were armored personnel carriers, bitterly known as "open coffins," in which Hungarian soldiers had been crowded against the better judgment of their commanders, who worried for their lives. These vehicles were followed by more tanks still.36 This was an a.s.sault group staging to attack. Their objective would not be easy. Several blocks away, behind dense rows of buildings and warrens of narrow streets, stood the Corvin Theater, an insurgent stronghold. It was the morning of October 28, 1956. The armed popular uprising in Hungary was entering its sixth day. This was an a.s.sault group staging to attack. Their objective would not be easy. Several blocks away, behind dense rows of buildings and warrens of narrow streets, stood the Corvin Theater, an insurgent stronghold. It was the morning of October 28, 1956. The armed popular uprising in Hungary was entering its sixth day.

The Hungarian fighters waiting to meet the column's advance hid in four- and five-story buildings, watching from windows to the streets below, waiting for whatever came next.37 Circ.u.mstances had transformed them into impromptu urban fighters. They had seen enough of Hungarian state terror and Soviet occupation to turn out spontaneously, an unantic.i.p.ated force that had leaped onto the world's stage. Some were not yet old enough to shave. Others were veterans who had been Soviet prisoners of war. The adults came largely from the workers' ranks. Circ.u.mstances had transformed them into impromptu urban fighters. They had seen enough of Hungarian state terror and Soviet occupation to turn out spontaneously, an unantic.i.p.ated force that had leaped onto the world's stage. Some were not yet old enough to shave. Others were veterans who had been Soviet prisoners of war. The adults came largely from the workers' ranks.38 Together they formed a hard-nosed group: clean-cut, lean, rugged, intent. The weather was chilly by day in Budapest in midfall; the nights cold. Rebels wandered their turf in trench coats, lending them a sartorially proper air. One worker fought with a bowler on his head. He had found it in the rubble. After he brushed off the brick dust, it became a whimsically unforgettable highlight to his rebel dress. Together they formed a hard-nosed group: clean-cut, lean, rugged, intent. The weather was chilly by day in Budapest in midfall; the nights cold. Rebels wandered their turf in trench coats, lending them a sartorially proper air. One worker fought with a bowler on his head. He had found it in the rubble. After he brushed off the brick dust, it became a whimsically unforgettable highlight to his rebel dress.39 Though many insurgents were spread throughout Budapest, the Corvinists, as they were called, were among the most daring and determined of the lot. Their stubbornness made them a priority. Soviet generals and Hungarian hard-liners wanted to crush them as a lesson for the rest. But how? The area was an urban trap. Most of the neighborhood's buildings were constructed of thick stone and highly defendable. Within them the Hungarians had selected shooting positions from which they could pour out interlocking cones of fire. The Kilian Barracks-a fortress-stood nearby, and rebels took positions here as well, expanding their zone of control. Details had been tended to. To give warning of approaching threats, the rebels had posted spotters on rooftops. They had organized medical care and a field kitchen. They had made a jail for captured troops. They had a.s.sembled obstacles and barricades on the streets, so that fighting vehicles would have to slow down and pick their way through tight pa.s.sages, exposing them to attack. Though many insurgents were spread throughout Budapest, the Corvinists, as they were called, were among the most daring and determined of the lot. Their stubbornness made them a priority. Soviet generals and Hungarian hard-liners wanted to crush them as a lesson for the rest. But how? The area was an urban trap. Most of the neighborhood's buildings were constructed of thick stone and highly defendable. Within them the Hungarians had selected shooting positions from which they could pour out interlocking cones of fire. The Kilian Barracks-a fortress-stood nearby, and rebels took positions here as well, expanding their zone of control. Details had been tended to. To give warning of approaching threats, the rebels had posted spotters on rooftops. They had organized medical care and a field kitchen. They had made a jail for captured troops. They had a.s.sembled obstacles and barricades on the streets, so that fighting vehicles would have to slow down and pick their way through tight pa.s.sages, exposing them to attack.40 They placed cooking pans on the pavement to resemble mines, a trick to frustrate the tanks more. At the theater's doorway, the Corvinists had an artillery piece. They placed cooking pans on the pavement to resemble mines, a trick to frustrate the tanks more. At the theater's doorway, the Corvinists had an artillery piece.41 For the fight against the ma.s.sing troops, the Corvinists had gathered arms. Some carried a Mosin-Nagant rifle or a PPSh submachine gun taken from government stocks. Others brandished pistols. This was not an especially impressive suite of small arms for an army in 1956. For a guerrilla force in existence for less than a week, it was a feat. And the insurgents were blessed by convenience: A gas station was located near the theater, providing fuel for Molotov c.o.c.ktails19-bottles filled with gasoline and adorned with a wick to be lit before being thrown. When the gla.s.s shattered, the wick ignited the gasoline in a whooshing blaze. In the Corvinists' kill zones, charred vehicles littered the streets. Dozens of soldiers had died. Now they waited for the next thrust. Soviet generals had ordered an advance in two p.r.o.ngs, ending with tanks blasting at the theater as the infantry stormed forward, finishing the insurrection at last.

In the story of the a.s.sault rifle, the mid-1950s brought milestones: the AK-47's combat debuts. The first known use of the AK-47 outside of tests and exercises was in East Germany in 1953, when Soviet divisions put down a smaller and less-organized uprising in Berlin. But in 1953 the a.s.sault rifle had yet to be issued to Soviet forces in large quant.i.ties. It was not abundant. Three years on, as insurgents in Budapest gathered their bottled gas and looted guns, thousands of the Soviet Union's frontline soldiers carried AK-47s into Hungarian neighborhoods. The newsreel footage of soldiers flowing into the capital, new rifles in hand, framed events to be repeated by centralized regimes for decades. They were a myth-buster. One point at the center of Soviet and Russian statements about the a.s.sault rifle and the immense industrial capacity behind it, and fundamental to Mikhail Kalashnikov's descriptions of his life's purpose and work, was that the AK-47 was made for national defense and distributed later as a liberation tool. These are the oft-repeated lines. Against this fable, the weapons' premieres in Berlin and Budapest served as more than chronological markers. They informed a fuller understanding of the AK-47 and the political system that circulated it. The AK-47 was christened with blood not as a tool for liberation or to defend the Soviet Union from invaders. It made its debut smashing freedom movements. It was repression's chosen gun, the rifle of the occupier and the police state.

The beginning established a pattern. The Kalashnikov was rarely a Soviet weapon of defense. It was to be the weapon of East German border guards who shot unarmed civilians fleeing for the West, and the firearm used in the state-directed violence against demonstrations and uprisings before the Soviet Union finally tottered and fell. It would be used in Prague, in Alma-Ata, in Baku, in Riga, and in Moscow. It would see crackdown service repeatedly in other strong-arm states-at Tiananmen Square in China, in Andijon in Uzbekistan, and Bishkek in Kyrgyzstan-almost any place where a government resorted to shooting citizens to try to keep citizens in check. It would be used by Baathists to execute Kurds in the holes that served as their ma.s.s graves. It would shoot the Bosnian men and boys who were herded to execution in Srebrenica in 1995. But this was all so obvious that it barely deserves elaboration, save as a corrective to the authorities' distortions. The fight for Hungary had another value. The Kremlin's image tenders could influence the conversation about their nation's actions and the supposed purposes of its arms. They could not control the ways that war and violence actually worked. There would be too many Kalashnikovs for their uses to be determined, much less fully obscured, by the centralized states that made them. Once Soviet soldiers drove into Budapest the omen appeared, the hint of what was in store. No sooner had the AK