Sevastopol’s Wars

Disclosure: I received a review copy of this book from NetGalley.

Crimea is a hot-button topic in the world, obviously. Russian forces, spearheaded by “little green men” manning armed checkpoints, invaded—and Russia subsequently annexed—the peninsula in March 2014. This was in response to a pro-western revolution in Kiev, and it was rapidly followed by a conflict in Donbas which is still simmering. Thus, Mungo Melvin was well placed in the history of book publication.

Having previously written an extensive and very good biography of Erich von Manstein, probably Hitler’s most capable general, Melvin had already done the research for a considerable portion of a new book, one focusing on the key Crimean city, which was a major part of Manstein’s rise. Sevastopol’s Wars: Crimea from Potemkin to Putin is more or less a military biography of the city.

The city itself exists for military purposes: it did not exist in any form until 1783. There are Bosporan Greek ruins outside of the city, but these Ionian colonists have no connection to the Russian establishment; although a Greek theatre at the site has played a major cultural role for the city. The site was chosen for its utility as a military harbor, and it is still extraordinarily well suited to this role today. Therefore a military biography is an apt avenue of looking at the city.

Melvin begins his story with an overview of Crimea’s pre-Russian history: Scythians, Greeks, Romans, and Tatars. As mentioned previously, the history of the region has played into the culture of the city despite it not being connected to the ancient past. This interplay of cultures made Crimea a battleground, but one which was able to survive long after most rivals (and other subsequent Roman client states) had ceased to exist. The Russian story mostly begins with the annexation of the Crimean Khanate to the Novorossiyskaya guberniya, by Catherine the Great in 1783. That same year Sevastopol was founded by Thomas MacKenzie, a British sailor in Russian service.

Because of its founding as a naval base, it was the site of the major engagements in the Crimean War. Despite being named for the peninsula, the war was also fought in the Baltic and Pacific, and Melvin rightly avoids them as not being relevant for his book. The first Siege of Sevastopol forms a solid third of the narrative. The war itself is somewhat simplistically set up, but once action begins Melvin shows that he was, in fact, a general officer in the British Army and he has a firm grasp on military operations. The Crimean War is followed from landing through the demolition of the port after the siege.

After the Crimean episode is finished, we fast forward. Sevastopol was of some significance in the Russian Revolution and Civil War, and this is briefly touched on. It doesn’t seem rushed, despite its relative brevity. This is probably because the main sections are so comprehensive. Sevastopol in WWII occupies another solid third of the book. This is Melvin’s meat and potatoes, having already written on the subject. I’ve read Manstein, and I still found the narrative of operations quite interesting and I believe I learned things I didn’t from the previous book.

Probably the most important part of the book is the postwar section, because it is most relevant to modern events. Melvin mentions the city’s rebuilding, which was jump-started by Stalin personally visiting and naming it a Hero City. This is a distinction only given to three other cities—Leningrad, Stalingrad, and Odessa—directly after the war. It was, and is, a major part of Russia’s perception of the Great Patriotic War. This is followed by the gift of Crimea to the Ukrainian SSR, which is how it ended up in Ukraine after the dissolution of the USSR.

And here Sevastopol’s Wars runs into problems. In his introduction, Melvin admits that he anticipates his book being read as apologia for Russian aggression, and that it isn’t his intention. Except that’s exactly what he’s written, regardless of intent. Perhaps that says something about the Ukrainian claim to Crimea, but I hope it doesn’t. What Melvin has constructed is a historical argument for why Sevastopol is important to Russia and an integral part of their national identity. If we subscribe to liberal ideas of self-determination, Melvin has written a 750 page argument for the Russian camp.

The length is also an issue: the text itself stretches almost 630 pages, a weighty tome. This is a book which could have been half the length and easily been just as good. Melvin clearly likes his subject, and needed a stronger editor to cull it down. A lot of text is taken up by extraneous dwelling on events, or by half-complete discussions. For instance, Melvin discusses Russian operational choices in the Crimean War but doesn’t seem to desire to touch on the institutional reasons for those choices, and looking at his bibliography he appears to lack institutional histories of the Russian Army. Bayonets Before Bullets, an institutional history of the post-Crimean Russian Army would have been useful as Menning spends considerable time on what needed reform. The discussion could have been omitted entirely and nothing would have been lost.

Despite its apologetic tone and voluminous prose, it is a very good book. Melvin is a skilled writer and was aware of his audience: the book is published by Osprey, a popular publisher, and he does not assume the reader is highly versed in the subject (in fairness, probably a major component of both the length and half-discussions). This might leave specialist frustrated (see above paragraph), but it will fill in casual readers on details they probably don’t know. This book should be highly recommended for anyone seeking more information about the present issues in the former Soviet Republics.