Russia Milking It Big Time

Regarding: Grace's post questioning: "Was it fair for the Soviet Union to receive control over Eastern Europe?"

Today in class, the phrase that came to mind when thinking about Stalin and Russia post-WWII was "milking it." I can't deny that I don't milk things. If I'm sick at home I like to be fussed over a little, brought cold compresses, gingerale, etc. But that milking it is more than slightly forgivable. My mother doesn't especially mind buying me soda or making up ice bags. When looking at the matter of an entire swathe of Eastern Europe, I assumed it'd be hard to say the same of the U.S. giving up the territories to the Soviets. Oddly, it doesn't seem like it was.

As far as our studies have taken us, I can't remember reading anything about how distraught the U.S. or Britain was to give up Latvia, Estonia, and other countries which would become a buffer between East and West, this time imposed by the Communist East. In the Percentages Agreement made by Churchill and Stalin, the two simply carved up Southern Eastern Europe into spheres of influence.

Russia's main claim was that they "deserved" Eastern Europe as a form of both protection in the future (from Western conflicts) and a sort of reparation for their sustained losses in WWII, and while I definitely agreed that Russia essentially won on the Eastern front by virtue of pure numbers and willingness to suffer through the war effort, it seems extremely odd that the Allies wouldn't have argued more for control in Eastern Europe. But perhaps I am missing something.

Oh, the terror of it all!

Responding to: Andra's post, which responded to Nate's.

Industrialization did not necessarily need a communist regime to increase. As far as I can tell, there can be no connection made between Stalin's ideologies and the increase in industrialization. Thus, the two do not need to go hand in hand. Industrialization and the improvement of Russia as a whole could have occurred without the terror, which makes it completely and utterly not understandable and unjustifiable to me.

When I think about communism, I never associate it with industrial progress; rather, I view it as a political system beyond manufacturing/materialistic/competitive capitalism. Rather than thinking that "Industrialization did not necessarily need a communist regime to increase," I marvel at the fact that Stalin was able to apply communism in such a way that it did boost industrialization. While this in no way justifies the mass killings and virtual enslavement of 10% of Russia's population, there is a connection between "Stalin's ideologies and the increase in industrialization." As I see it, a main focus of Stalin's was to ensure the survival of the "first communist state." Unlike Trotsky, Stalin did not think a world-wide revolution was necessary, but he still knew that Russia could, at any point, be threatened by other European powers. Thus, the increase in industrialization grew Russia's self-sustainability and prepared it for future conflicts. While I cannot agree with the tactics used by Stalin to bring about industrialization, I cannot deny that Russia needed to be brought up to speed in terms of industrialism if they wished to compete on the world stage.

In related news, I found this article particularly interesting. It's from January 1937 and discusses Trotsky, Stalin, and about Stalin's forced rise to power.

Trotsky urged the industrialization oi Russia, and that was "Trotskyism" until he had been kicked out and it became Stalinism. Trotsky urged regimentation oi [sic] the Russian peasantry by the Dictatorship of the Proletariat, the peasants to be uprooted from their little holdings and forced onto vast collective farms with tractor; replacing horses and Moscow able at any moment to shut off the gasoline if the peasants got obstreperous. That too was "Trotskyism," bitterly denounced by Stalin until, Trotsky having been ousted, it became and is today Stalinism. (page 6)

The Kulak and the Intellectual

Regarding Leigh and Elizabeth's back and forth here, here and here.

I thought Liz raised an especially interesting point in saying that kulaks were treated as a mass of people while intellectuals were targeted individually. I agree with this statement and furthermore would like to suggest that the manner in which they were dealt spoke of Stalin's view of them. Specifically, I shall quote from the reading "Problems of Agrarian Policy in the USSR: Soviet Collectivization."

There is another question which seems no less ridiculous: whether the kulak should be permitted to join the collective farms. Of course not, for he is a sworn enemy of the collective-farm movement. Clear, one would think.

The last four words are positively dripping with condescension. In class I laughed, but this feeling is now reduced to something between amusement and horror. In my understanding, you could absolutely, under no conditions, be a kulak under Stalin–there was simply no place for them in his vision for Russia. Hence, the decimation of them as a class, without regard for them as individuals. Intellectuals, I believe, were not doomed from the start. As long as the intellectual were weak enough that he posed no threat (at all, no seriously) to Stalin (paranoid much?) and supported (or at least appeared to, convincingly) Stalin without reservation, execution need not be in the cards.

(But, upon re-reading my last point, I have to admit that no one was really safe under Stalin, including his "allies." Perhaps this is why he was, and still is, so terrifying.)

Two Anastasias, Two Different (?) Times

The rate of blogging seems to have drastically slowed this week, but nonetheless, I'll respond to/jump off off a few points from Leigh's lovely post.

First, just to address Lenin's Hanging Order (1908), I had a moment after I finished reading it when I laughed. Why you might ask? At his instructions to kill 100 kulaks etc. to make a public show? Certainly not. Rather, I was wryly amused by how he signed the order. "Yours, Lenin." The Post-script was also a nice touch. There was such a juxtaposition of the serious (the killing bits) and the, almost, quotidian (his lack of formality).

Secondly, I was especially intrigued by Leigh's connection between the present and the past:

The violence of the Bolsheviks would become a commonly used tactic in the USSR and modern-day Russia. Although there is no longer a Kulak class, the intellectual targets have remained the same over the years.

Especially after having read Danielle's post which, ever so briefly mentions Anastasia, I couldn't help but think of an article I read about a month or so ago. Though I can't find the exact one, I found a few related ones here, here, here, and here.

Essentially, in late January of this year, Anastasia Baburova (Nastya), a Russian journalist, was lethally shot while walking in the company of human rights lawyer Stanislav Markelov (the intended target). When a gunman walked up to them and shot Markelov in the head, killing him instantly, Baburova tried to attack/pursue the gunman who then shot her. She later died at a hospital. Sadly, she's not alone, nor are political assassinations a rarity in Russia today. (In a similar case in 2006, Anna Politkovskaya, another journalist from the same paper Nastya worked at, was found dead in an elevator. More here.)

What I find the most intriguing here are some parallels drawn between Russia in 1917 and Russia now.
-A government very intent on remaining in power (applicable both to Tsar Nicholas II and the provisional government. But look how it worked out for both of them.
-The targeting of intellectuals, in this case journalists and a lawyer.
-An out of touch, ruthless (and desperate?) upper class. According to the owner of the Novayagazeta (the paper at which Nastya and Anna worked), there is:

A tiny elite of officials, politicians and businessmen, who together have amassed vast fortunes running in to hundreds of billions....[who] will do anything to defend their wealth and power.

Last fall, I took Russian Lit with Scott and his Russian friend came in to talk with us about St. Petersburg. While she pointed out many similarities of the city to other Western European cities and was especially proud of signs of modernism (iPods, computers, etc.), Scott also gave us his impression which was far less...perhaps "optimistic" is the word.

And while it's interesting to make these connections, it's disappointing that even in the face of change, some things still remain the same.

(If you'd like to see the website of Novayagazeta, the paper where the murdered journalists worked, it's available in English here. They have a memorial up for Anastasia Baburova and Stanislav Markelov right now, including a fairly graphic picture of the murder scene. Not too much blood.)

Tradition!

Interestingly, when titling this blog post, I instantly thought of "Fiddler on the Roof". I planned on starting off with "Although my title is completely anachronistic", but when I Googled the musical, 'lo and behold, "Fiddler on the Roof is set in the small Jewish village of Anatevka, Russia, in 1905" (source here). How apt.

Both last night's reading and the debate today in class caused me to think a lot about tradition. Danielle's blog post questioned why a Tsar (Alexander II, III, or Nicholas II) didn't try to stave off revolution with reform. My admittedly weak answer is: tradition.

Specifically the book says, "Alexander II claimed his people had been nurtured on mystical piety for centuries and would be utterly lost without a strong autocratic system" (Western Civilizations, 844). I would agree with this. I see no other reason for the lack of reform and enhanced repressive tactics, than tradition. Russia had, more or less, always been governed by a single great leader (think Catherine or Peter the Great). Any previous time there had been stirrings of revolution (Decembrist Revolt), the autocrat had managed to put down the rebels. Why should this instance in the early 1900's have looked any different to the Tsar? Why would he have thought to reform or try a new tactic other than enhancing his level of control? Perhaps he did not realize the extent of popular discontent, or did not recognize that the people saw the loss of the Russo-Japanese War (1904-1905) as a sign of his own weakness. In any case, Tsar Nicholas II elected to maintain tradition, and look where it got him.

Ironically, a similar situation was paralleled among the peasants. As we learned in class, they'd always thought of the Tsar as a father-like figure, to whom they could air their grievances and expect nominal change. Bloody Sunday in 1905 was a slap in the face. It broke the news that the Tsar was not their father, would not listen to them, and would not be swayed by 200,000 peasants protesting in St. Petersburg. Traditional beliefs had once again been misleading; however, for the peasants this violent wake-up call was not the end. This was really only the beginning.

Making Connections (sort of)

Sitting down to write this blog post, I'm having a difficult time remembering what we covered in class this week. This worries me; however my notes tell me that we dabbled in such topics as: The Crimean War, Expansionism, and How to Make a Nation 101. From here I shall spring.

All three of the aforementioned topics are connected. So you're trying to unify, but you have internal problems...what better way to divert attention and encourage nationalism than a war? So that might be a reason to try to expand (not neglecting a generous acquisition of resources if you took say, Lorraine or something like the Prussians wanted). But of course, then expansion leads to a perceived upset in the balance of powers. While you, as a country (Russia), might be saying, "But it's (The Crimean Peninsula) only a little bit of land!", the rest of Europe glowers at you. Should you choose to press forward, then a war might erupt. Alliances you might have counted on could putter out (damn you Austrians) and you're left high and dry against the combined forces of both the established European powers and the unestablished but ambitious Piedmont-Sardinia.

I don't think it's an incredibly insightful comment to say that "Wow, everything's connected!" but nonetheless it's the one I'm making.

When examining the causal relationships between war, expansionism, and creating a nation I believe the following:
-Expansionism always causes war. Someone must have lived on/owned the land that you are so intent on taking.
-Creating a nation sometimes requires war(ring). Inevitably, people (like Metternich) will be archly opposed to the unification of your nation (in his case, Germany).
-Creating a nation sometimes requires expansionism. For the previously mentioned assertion that by expanding and therefore waging a war, a nation can further unify its citizens.

War lends identity to people. Rather than a conglomeration of several minority groups and religions, all of a sudden you're all insert nation's name heres.

I will acknowledge, however, the power of war to divide a nation as well, citing the past decade or so as an example.