Published on Wednesday, March 5th. To subscribe: https://sara-causey.kit.com/2d8b7742dd
I’m enjoying the process of writing my next book, Simply Dag. At present, I’m in March of 1958 in the USSR.
Picture this:
Premier Nikolai Bulganin sends a letter to Dag in late January/early February asking him to come to Moscow for peace talks. Bulganin says he wants to improve relations between the US and the Soviet Union and he wants to speak with Dag about disarmament, a cause Dag was passionate about. Of course Dag goes without hesitation but it’s late March before all schedules can be coordinated. He arrives and finds . . . no Bulganin. Instead he’s dealing with Nikita Khrushchev, the Communist Party boss who was a notorious loose-cannon bully. Dag is literally on site in Moscow when Khrushchev’s power grab to oust Bulganin is a success, forcing Bulganin to resign against his will. (Students of history know that turnabout will be fair play in October 1964 when Khrushchev is likewise forced out.) Even with the ground shifting beneath his feet, Dag has to think fast and act with his typical aplomb. It’s made me think not only of “high-stakes diplomacy,” but also of what I call “high-stakes socialization.”
High-Stakes Socialization
Imagine walking into a room where every word you speak, every movement you make, could shift the balance of power. Where a simple misstep—laughing too hard, standing too far, or not far enough—could have global consequences.
For Dag, this wasn’t just hypothetical; it was his reality.
Few people embodied the challenge of this high-stakes socialization more than Khrushchev. He was a law unto himself—loud, erratic, sometimes friendly, sometimes openly hostile. One day, he would bear-hug Dag and be hyper affectionate; the next, he would call for Dag’s removal from the UN.
Dag, who valued composure and personal space, had to navigate (and endure) these unpredictable encounters with a masterful balancing act. He couldn’t recoil too obviously from Khrushchev’s physical displays of camaraderie, but he also couldn’t allow himself to be steamrolled. And it wasn’t just about his personal comfort; it was about maintaining the integrity of the UN itself. If he mishandled a moment, it wasn’t just embarrassing; it could be catastrophic on the world stage.
And then there was the infamous rowboat trip in Sochi, which I cover in Decoding the Unicorn and will likely tell from Dag’s perspective in Simply Dag. Khrushchev, in an attempt at forced intimacy (masking his true intent to intimidate and harass), invited Dag to his private villa and insisted on taking him out on the water . . . alone. Dag had to manage Khrushchev—who was wicked pissed about Dag’s role in the Swedish Academy and how they selected Pasternak’s Doctor Zhivago for a literary Nobel Prize—while also managing Bill, his aide-de-camp and protective bodyguard, ensuring no one said or did anything that could escalate tensions. Dag was navigating a variety of personalities and agendas while trying not to bring embarrassment to himself or the UN.
Dag started to walk to the entrance when he heard the unmistakable booming voice of Nikita Khrushchev. The Soviet Premier came bounding down the wide marble stairs with all the enthusiasm of a toddler rushing toward a favorite toy. His wide grin split his face, and his hands were already outstretched, ready for backslaps and aggressive hugging.Oh God, Dag thought. He is in one hell of an affectionate mood.“There you are, Hammy!” Khrushchev bellowed as he neared, slapping Dag on the back with such force that it pushed him off balance. “You made it! Welcome to my world!” he gestured to the villa. He then bearhugged Dag and brushed his cheek, making Dag afraid he was about to receive a socialist fraternal kiss. Khrushchev laced his arm around Dag’s own as though they were the best of friends. Dag’s nervous smile was tight, his uneasiness hidden beneath the diplomatic mask he had perfected over the years. He hated this kind of forced camaraderie—the false closeness and the uninvited physical contact. But he said nothing. Confronting Khrushchev about it would serve no purpose, and Dag was here for much more serious matters than rebuffing unwanted backslaps. Bill was also keenly aware of Dag’s feelings and worked hard to keep his eyes from popping out of his head at the sight of someone being so lovey-dovey with his boss. Khrushchev, indifferent to Dag’s discomfort, laughed heartily. “Come, come! We have real talk today. Just you and me—no officials, no guards. We keep it nice and private.” He grinned like a hungry wolf eyeing a juicy steak and then pointed toward the shoreline where a simple wooden rowboat bobbed gently on the water. “How about rowing, eh? Just us. We go. We talk free.”Dag’s gaze shifted to the rowboat, his mind already calculating the risks. He wasn’t fond of the idea, but the Premier’s tone made it clear that this wasn’t a suggestion. Plus, it was an opportunity—a rare chance to speak candidly, away from the prying eyes and ears of anyone else. And Dag was no coward.Bill pushed forward a few steps. “Alone?” he asked.Khrushchev squeezed Dag’s shoulder, not even looking at Bill. “Da! Alone. No guard, no aide, no interpreter. Me. Dag. Sea.”“Very well,” Dag said. “Let’s go.”
-Excerpt from Decoding the Unicorn: A New Look at Dag Hammarskjöld, © Sara Causey
More updates to come. Stay tuned!
I am the author of Decoding the Unicorn: A New Look at Dag Hammarskjöld. It’s available for purchase on Amazon by clicking here. I am also the author of Dag’s Magical Castle, a children’s book designed for introvert & HSP kids. You can find it on Amazon here: https://a.co/d/dfdUkSL.
Check out Decoding the Unicorn: The Podcast here.
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