“Death from starvation threatens every working man”: A Soviet book about hunger, but not the Ukrainian people.

We’re lucky to once again welcome back a special guest blogger: Polina Popova. A PhD candidate in History at the University of Illinois Chicago, Polina specializes in modern Russian and Soviet history and Soviet children’s literature. Having received a library research grant to study Cotsen material in the 2019-2020 academic year, Polina is uniquely suited to demonstrate what we can learn from the Soviet children’s books in Ukrainian held by the Cotsen collection.

________________________________________________________________

In the year 1929, massive collectivization campaigns began all over the USSR. It was also the second year of the first Five Year Plan, when forced grain procurements were introduced. Despite the brutal enforcement of the regime, many peasants still resisted grain requisitions and refused to join collective farms. Acts of active and passive resistance from the peasants led to more repression from the government; the collectivization campaign went slowly and inefficiently. Despite the “voluntarily character” of the collective-farm movement affirmed by Stalin in his “Dizzy with Success” article on March 2, 1930, during the spring of that year, around 180,000 militant young activists were sent to the villages to enforce the campaign was followed through.[1]

Since Ukraine was the USSR’s primary grain supplying region, it suffered the most from mass collectivization. Serious food shortages in this region started as early as 1929.[2] By March of 1930 more than 60% of the Ukrainian peasants were collectivized.[3] 1931 became a turning point for many Ukrainians, because crop requisitions remained constant while the harvest was 20 per cent lower than in 1930.[4] Hunger had always been present in the Soviet countryside and small cities since the beginning of the 1920s, but 1932 would mark the beginning of the first man-made famine in Ukraine called, later, the Holodomor.[5] Famine brought not only disease, death, and despair to Ukrainian peasants, but also new abuses of power: people were punished for not meeting grain quotas and were arrested. Worse, on the basis of a law instituted on August 7, 1932, criminalizing “theft of socialist property,” many were sent to labor camps for stealing even a small amount of grain. [6] Yet, the government (or Stalin himself?) refused to make any concessions to grain quotas that would have prevented mass starvation. Thus, at the beginning of 1933, famine spread all over Ukraine, and death on a mass scale occurred in every small city or village in the region.[7] Famine also spread to other regions such as Kazakhstan, the Don and Kuban, the North Caucuses, and the Volga region.[8] The peak of the famine lasted through the whole of 1933 through the winter of 1934.[9] During 1933 at least 3.5 million people died of famine in Ukraine alone.[10]

With this sobering context in mind, we can examine one of the treasures of the Cotsen collection – Za Vladu, Rabotu, Khlib (Kyiv: Dvoy Molodai Bol’shevik, 1932), which can be translated “For power, for work, for bread”. The book is short but attractive and full of illustrations; with concise, clearly written paragraphs, it was probably intended for young schoolchildren (illustrated by E. Rachova, and written by I. Broĭde). Two pages slightly resemble modern-day graphic novels, with small illustrations one after another, creating a plot that follows the short story. Laconic, straightforward, and avant-garde in illustration style, the book was, perhaps surprisingly, expensively produced.

Frontwrapper, Cotsen 38417

 

Was it accidental that a children’s book about bread – and a rather expensive edition of such – was published in Ukrainian and not in Russia, the language that most Soviet children’s books were published in? Not at all. Obviously, its target audience was the children of Ukraine in 1932 and after. To put it bluntly, this beautiful book is a perfect example of Stalinist propaganda, which had two goals (and as is often the case for totalitarian regimes – the goals contradict each other). [11] On the one hand, the book normalized hunger for Ukrainian children. It argues that everyone, even people in capitalist states such as Germany, face extreme hunger. Though true to a certain extent, this claim is highly exaggerated in the book. On the other hand, the book demonstrates that the communist Soviet Union does not face this problem (a complete and utter hypocritical lie).

Illustrations on page 1 of the book are very telling: we see a family of four with no food at the table and hungry small children clutching their mom, seeking support. The father of the family is helpless in the ugly face of starvation. But the following image shows two “rich people” sitting at a restaurant ordering food (presumably, judging by the sizes of the two capitalists’ bodies, they are ordering in abundance). The text says that workers in Germany and other capitalist countries do not have work and bread, while capitalists use working peoples’ money “to build tanks and cannons.” Here, the book has another propogandist message, typical for 1930s Soviet children’s books – that enemy capitalist countries are inherently militaristic and war hungry; unlike the peaceful Soviet Union. On that same page, there is a vivid description of how workers are forced to stand in long lines to get “a [single] piece of bread” and even end up sleeping “in gardens and under fences.” Reading this, another graphic image comes to mind – an image common in the memoirs of people living in Kharkiv, Kyiv, Dnipro, and Uman’ during the 1932-1933 famine. Ukrainians in big cities of the time really witnessed starving people (most of them – fleeing from the countryside) standing in long lines at bread stores, begging for food in the streets, or lying in the streets (quite literally “under fences”), often with bloated stomachs, many of them dead.[12]

 

Page [1] vignettes, Cotsen 38417

The book describes how capitalists deliberately dump flour and grain in the sea to drive up food prices. Ironically, one can think of parallels with Bolshevik policies and inefficiencies. For example, grain was often lost due to poor storage capacities which lead peasants to starve. At the end of the first page, in bold, we see the statement “ГОЛОДНА СМЕРТЬ ЗАГРОЖУЄ КОЖНIЙ РОБIТНИЧIЙ (Sic!) РОДИНI” (“Death from starvation threatens every working [man] of [his] homeland”). How ironic that these words were applied to foreigners and not Ukrainians or other Soviet citizens. Although the famine was most severe in Ukraine, peasants were starving all around the USSR. One wonders how many Ukrainians understood this false rhetoric of the time presented by this book and by the Soviet authorities.

Page [1] bottom, Cotsen 38417

Other descriptions of the supposed brutalities of the Germany state against its starving and jobless workers, on page 3, depict policemen on the streets of Berlin looking for signs of discontent and riots. In response, children had to save the day, or better to say – “save the night,” as they secretly glued leaflets calling for a strike.

Page [3] vignette, Cotsen 38417

The book has an open ending in which workers are still striking in the factories. The goal of this kind of story was not to have a happy ending, but rather to present an impressionistic bricolage of hunger, children begging for food, helpless parents who are unable to provide it to the little ones, long lines for bread, homelessness, and the politicization of children. Soviet Ukrainian children were already too familiar with these realities, yet were supposedly spared from them by the Communist government.

______________________________________________________________________

[1] Joseph Stalin, “Dizzy with Success” (Pravda, No. 60, March 2, 1930), https://www.marxists.org/reference/archive/stalin/works/1930/03/02.htm (accessed March 24, 2022).

[2]Investigation of the Ukrainian Famine 1932-1933. Report to Congress. Commission on the Ukraine Famine. (Washington: Government Printing Office, 1988), 191.

[3]Ivnitskiĭ, Sud’ba raskulachennikh v SSSR (Moskva: Sobranie, 2004), 19.

[4]Bohdan Krawchenko, “The Man-Made Famine of 1932-1933” from Famine in Ukraine, 1932-1933, ed. by Bohdan Krawchenko and Roman Serbyn (Alberta: Canadian Institute of Ukrainian Studies, 1986), 20.

[5]Nikolai Ivnitskii, Golod 1932-1933 godov v SSSR: Ukraina, Kazakhstan, SeverniyKavkaz, Povolzh’e, Tsentral’no-Chernozemnaia oblast’ (Moskva: Sobranie, 2009), 192.

[6]Krawchenko, “The Man-Made Famine of 1932-1933,” 21. Sergei Maksudov, “Victory Over the Peasantry,” in Hunger by Design: The Great Ukrainian Famine and Its Soviet Context, ed. Halyna Hryn (Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press, 2008), 54.

[7] Robert Conquest, The Harvest of Sorrow: Soviet Collectivization and the Terror-Famine (New York, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1986), 243.

[8]Investigation of the Ukrainian Famine 1932-1933, 135.

[9]Krawchenko, “The Man-Made Famine of 1932-1933,” 21.

[10]Ivnitskiĭ, Golod 1932-1933 Godov v SSSR, 209.

[11] Something that was noticed by Umberto Eco in his famous list of fourteen features of “Eternal” Fascist regimes was the controversial, often illogical dichotomies that the oppressive totalitarian regimes operate within. One of the examples is an imaginary enemy who is strong and weak at the same time. Umberto Eco. “Ur Fascism,” https://www.nybooks.com/articles/1995/06/22/ur-fascism/ (accessed April 13th, 2022).

[12] Robert Kusznierz, “The Impact of the Great Famine on Ukrainian Cities: Evidence from the Polish Archives,” in After the Holodomor: The Enduring Impact of the Great Famine in Ukraine, ed. Andrea Graziosi (Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press, 2013), 16.

Picturing Progress: A Photo Album for Vladimir Lenin from the Azneft Commune

Dorogomu Vladimiru Il’ichu Ul’i︠a︡novu (Leninu) ot Kommunal’nago Upravlenii︠a︡ Aznefti. Cotsen 30660

The massive photo album pictured above, measuring nearly 14×19 inches, is definitely a rarity and a bit of a mystery. Created in 1922, probably in Baku, Azerbaijan, the Russian language album features 114 photographs (mostly silver prints) mounted on 30 card stock sheets. The cover title, (badly) translated as “To dear Vladimir Ilyich Ulyanov (Lenin) from the Communal Management of Azneft'”, indicates that this photo album was dedicated to Vladimir Lenin, then leader of the USSR, from the Azneft commune. But the album wasn’t really a gift for Vladimir Lenin (he mostly likely never saw it himself), it is more like a modest predecessor to the large scale Stalinist propaganda campaigns in which the great leader is thanked for the benefits of the revolution.

Cult of personality propaganda would reach new heights under Joseph Stalin, this poster text translates as: Thank you Comrade Stalin, for our happy childhood!

After a brief (18 month) independence from Russian rule during the Russian Civil War, Azerbaijan would find itself forcibly integrated into the USSR in 1922. As a result, the massive oil reserves outside of the capital city Baku would be nationalized and consolidated under the Azneft name (at the turn of the last century Azerbaijan was producing almost half the world’s oil, and continues to be an oil rich nation today). This album was probably arranged for the workers of an Azneft commune in order to showcase the amenities of a newly industrialized (and collectivized) life under Soviet rule.

Though probably made up of mostly oil workers and their families, the (ideal) tenets of collectivization meant that many aspects of material and social life would be provided on the commune including things like education, recreation, health services, and workshops.

Biblioteka (library).

Uchitel’skaya (teachers), faculty of the commune’s school.

Ambulatoriya (literally a “dispensary”, or small health clinic) Though difficult to make out here, the sign at the back of the room reads: “it is strictly forbidden to smoke, litter, and spit on the floor”; a message that was crucially displayed in Armenian, Russian, and Azerbaijani in order to make sure all patients obeyed the rules (strogo vospreshchaetsya kurit’ sorit’ i plevat’ ya pol’).

Clockwise from left: Tokarnaya Masterskaya (lathe workshop), Tokarnaya Masterskaya (lathe workshop), Mashinnoe Otdelenie (machine room), Liteinaya (foundry).

Tokarnaya Masterskaya (lathe workshop), a closer look at lathes.

Throughout the nascent Soviet Union bold educational reforms were being rolled out during the 1920’s. Literacy campaigns were especially emphasized in order to modernize the Soviet nation and educate a mostly illiterate populace. This photo album captures these initiatives in action:

Urok tyurkskago yazyka (Turkish language lesson), here adults are being taught the Perso-Arabic script for “Turkish” (Azeri Turkish) before Soviet authorities would institute a Latin script (1926) and then Cyrillic script (1939).

Urok russkago yazyka (Russian language lesson), children would be instructed in both Russian and Azeri Turkish (not shown here).

Urok arifmetiki (math lesson).

The photo album also depicts life off the commune. Pictures in the second half of the album capture visits to a new hospital in Baku and various sanatoria in Stavropol Krai, Russia; a region well known for it’s climate and health resorts. Perhaps advertising the new found inclusion of the united proletariat into the Russian world of rest and relaxation?

Sabunchinskaia bol’nitsia (Sabunchu hospital) in Baku, Azerbaijan. 

Clockwise from left: Chital’nya (Reading room), Fasad sanatorii v Pyatigorske (facade of a sanatorium in Pyatigorsk), Fasad sanatorii (facade of a sanatorium), Sanatoriya v Pyatigorske (sanatorium in Pyatigorsk).

Stolovaya sanatorii (dining room of the sanatorium), a few comrades enjoying a communal dinner.

As the handwriting below the photographs makes plain, this album wasn’t mass produced. Other Soviet photo albums of this kind are known to exist (later and more elaborate versions would be dedicated to Comrade Stalin), but this one appears wholly unique. We are lucky to have it here at Cotsen so that we can preserve these unique snap shots into a once brave new world that has faded sepia with time.


Many thanks to Thomas Keenan, Slavic, East European, and Eurasian Librarian for invaluable insight into what this item is. All misunderstandings and mistranslations are my own.