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Mostrando postagens classificadas por relevância para a consulta Gulag. Ordenar por data Mostrar todas as postagens
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quinta-feira, 10 de setembro de 2020

Gulag: anatomia da tragédia - Anne Applebaum - resenha de Paulo Roberto de Almeida

 Gulag: anatomia da tragédia

Resenha de:

Anne Applebaum:

Gulag: uma história dos campos de prisioneiros soviéticos

(Rio de Janeiro: Ediouro, 2004, 744 p.; tradução de Mário Vilela e Ibraíma Dafonte; ISBN: 8500015403)

 

            O terror moderno, isto é, o recurso à intimidação aberta e indiscriminada para alcançar fins especificamente políticos, não está ligado apenas aos exemplos cruéis do fundamentalismo de base islâmica. Ele nasceu na Revolução francesa e seu mais conhecido "teórico", Robespierre, o defendeu sem hesitação: "O atributo do governo popular na revolução é ao mesmo tempo virtude e terror, virtude sem a qual o terror é fatal, terror sem o qual a virtude é impotente. O terror nada mais é do que justiça imediata, severa, inflexível...". 

            Lênin, o inventor do terror moderno, apreciava Robespierre e sua "justiça expedita": desde os primeiros dias da revolução de 1917 ele ordenou à Cheka, a polícia política imediatamente criada para esmagar a ameaça "contra-revolucionária", que fuzilasse sem hesitação não só os opositores declarados do novo regime, mas também representantes da classe proprietária em geral, capitalistas, grandes comerciantes e latifundiários, religiosos, enfim, os potenciais "inimigos de classe". Criador do Gulag, em sua primeira emanação, ele justificava assim o trabalho da Cheka:

            "A Cheka não é uma comissão de investigação nem um tribunal. É um órgão de luta atuando na frente de batalha de uma guerra civil. Não julga o inimigo: abate-o... Nós não estamos lutando contra indivíduos. Estamos exterminando a burguesia como uma classe. A nossa primeira pergunta é: a que classe o indivíduo pertence, quais são suas origens, criação, educação ou profissão? Estas perguntas definem o destino do acusado. Esta é a essência do Terror Vermelho" (citado por Paul Johnson em Tempos Modernos).

            Stalin se encarregou de aplicar sistematicamente as recomendações de Lênin, e o fez de uma forma completa, terminando por incorporar como "clientes" da máquina de terror administrada por ele os seus próprios colegas de partido. A amplitude do Gulag, ampliado e desenvolvido no seu mais alto grau por Stalin, justifica que apliquemos a ele a categoria de genocídio, noção que costuma estar associada apenas aos terríveis experimentos raciais nazistas, antes e durante a Segunda Guerra Mundial.

            O livro de Anne Applebaum não é, apenas, como seu subtítulo indica, "uma história" dos campos soviéticos, mas a mais completa e sinistra história de um fenômeno único na história da humanidade: uma instituição oficial (ainda que em muitos aspectos "clandestina"), montada e sustentada pelo poder central do Estado, para administrar pelo terror, por um tempo indefinido, uma população inteira de um dos países mais importantes do planeta. A historiadora americana, editorialista do Washington Post e colaboradora do Wall Street Journal, realizou uma pesquisa monumental, indo muito além dos primeiros levantamentos de Alexander Solzenitsyn em torno dos depoimentos dos sobreviventes do nefando sistema de escravização em massa criado pelo totalitarismo soviético.

            Organizado em três partes, o livro documenta amplamente o que até aqui tinha sido divulgado de maneira dispersa em trabalhos de pesquisa histórica que não tinham ainda tido acesso aos principais arquivos soviéticos liberados no período recente. A primeira parte, "As origens do Gulag, 1917-1939", faz a reconstituição histórica dessa instituição singular, que unia a mais transparente crueldade no trato dos prisioneiros ao burocratismo metódico de uma moderna administração voltada para a exploração sistemática do trabalho escravo. Sim, não devemos esquecer que, independentemente de suas funções "didáticas", de intimidação direta e aberta contra a própria população da União Soviética, o Gulag teve um importante papel econômico na história do socialismo naquele país, chegando a representar, a produção de um terço do seu ouro, muito do carvão e da madeira e grandes quantidades de outras matérias-primas. Os prisioneiros passaram a trabalhar em todo e qualquer tipo de indústria, vivendo num país dentro de um outro país.

            A segunda parte, "Vida e trabalho nos campos", mostra também como o sistema do Gulag, que chegou a reunir 476 campos no mais diferentes cantos da URSS, constituía um Estado dentro do Estado, regulando os mais diferentes aspectos de um universo concentracionário que não teve precedentes, teve poucos imitadores efetivos (a despeito da terrível eficácia mortífera dos campos de concentração nazistas) e um número ainda mais reduzido de seguidores (sendo os mais efetivos os sistemas "correcionais" da Coréia do Norte e de Cuba, já que o exemplo do Camboja foi o de uma simples máquina de matar, como de certo modo tinha sido o caso dos experimentos nazistas). 

            A terceira parte, "Ascensão e queda do complexo industrial dos campos, 1940-1986", segue o sistema no seu ápice, durante e imediatamente após a Segunda Guerra Mundial, até o seu desmantelamento gradual após a morte de Stalin (1953) e a disseminação do fenômeno dos "dissidentes": ele foi sendo erodido progressivamente em seu papel político (ainda que não o econômico), mas só teve seu final decretado depois do próprio fim do socialismo.

            Um apêndice tenta quantificar a extensão do terror: de acordo com os próprios dados do sistema (estatísticas da NKVD, sucessora da Cheka e antecessora do KGB), o número de prisioneiros passou de cerca de 200 mil no início dos anos 1930 para 2,5 milhões no momento da morte de Stalin. O "turnover", obviamente, foi muito maior: muitos prisioneiros morreram, alguns escaparam (poucos), vários eram incorporados ao Exército Vermelho ou à própria administração dos campos (cruel ironia). As "taxas de desaparecimentos" refletiram também as terríveis condições de vida na URSS: passou-se de 4,8% de mortos em 1932 para 15,3% no ano seguinte, o que indica o impacto da epidemia de fome induzida pela coletivização stalinista da agricultura, que matou 6 ou 7 milhões de cidadãos "livres" igualmente. A "taxa" de mortos sobe para seu máximo de 25% em 1942, para declinar para menos de 1% nos anos 1950, quando o sistema "industrial" já tinha sido instalado em sua plenitude. No total, 2,7 milhões de cidadãos soviéticos podem ter morrido no sistema do Gulag, o que de todo modo representa apenas uma pequena parte dos desaparecidos durante  todo o regime stalinista e uma parte ainda menor dos sacrificados pelo sistema soviético. Os autores franceses do Livre Noir du Communisme, por exemplo, estimam em 20 milhões as vítimas do regime soviético, o que pode ser uma indicação plausível (outros colocam entre 12 e 15 milhões de mortos). Vários historiadores se aproximam da cifra de 28 milhões de cidadãos soviéticos para o número total de “clientes” de todo o sistema concentracionário soviético em sua história de “terror vermelho”.

            O Gulag foi a face mais visível da tragédia soviética, mas certamente não a única ou exclusiva. Este livro conta a história desse terrível legado do socialismo do século XX: esperemos que a história não se repita, sequer como farsa.

            

Paulo Roberto de Almeida

Brasília, 12 de dezembro de 2004

Publicada, em formato reduzido, na revista Desafios do Desenvolvimento (Brasília: n. 5, jan. de 2005, p. 78; http://www.desafios.org.br/index.php?Edicao=6&pagina=canais&secao=estante&idCanal=117)

domingo, 23 de fevereiro de 2020

Anne Applebaum: historiadora do totalitarismo soviético

Foi publicado recentemente no Brasil mais um livro da historiadora Anne Applebaum, sobre o terrível Holodomor, traduzido de Red Famine, que retraça o programa stalinista de coletivização agrícola na União Soviética e sua aplicação especialmente brutal na Ucrânia, quando o saque violento de grãos dos camponeses provocou uma fome devastadora, que foi responsável pela morte de milhões de ucranianos (5 ou 6 milhões segundo os cálculos de historiadores).
Já li muitas resenhas, ainda não o livro, mas já recomendo, pois li outros livros dessa historiadora, entre eles o Gulag, dedicado ao maior empreendimento escravista da modernidade, que também causou a morte de milhões de pessoas.
Fiz uma resenha desse primeiro livro dela traduzido no Brasil, que transcrevo a seguir.
Paulo Roberto de Almeida

Gulag: anatomia da tragédia

Resenha de:
Anne Applebaum:
Gulag: uma história dos campos de prisioneiros soviéticos
(Rio de Janeiro: Ediouro, 2004, 744 p.; tradução de Mário Vilela e Ibraíma Dafonte; ISBN: 8500015403)

            O terror moderno, isto é, o recurso à intimidação aberta e indiscriminada para alcançar fins especificamente políticos, não está ligado apenas aos exemplos cruéis do fundamentalismo de base islâmica. Ele nasceu na Revolução francesa e seu mais conhecido "teórico", Robespierre, o defendeu sem hesitação: "O atributo do governo popular na revolução é ao mesmo tempo virtude e terror, virtude sem a qual o terror é fatal, terror sem o qual a virtude é impotente. O terror nada mais é do que justiça imediata, severa, inflexível...". 
            Lênin, o inventor do terror moderno, apreciava Robespierre e sua "justiça expedita": desde os primeiros dias da revolução de 1917 ele ordenou à Cheka, a polícia política imediatamente criada para esmagar a ameaça "contra-revolucionária", que fuzilasse sem hesitação não só os opositores declarados do novo regime, mas também representantes da classe proprietária em geral, capitalistas, grandes comerciantes e latifundiários, religiosos, enfim, os potenciais "inimigos de classe". Criador do Gulag, em sua primeira emanação, ele justificava assim o trabalho da Cheka:
            "A Cheka não é uma comissão de investigação nem um tribunal. É um órgão de luta atuando na frente de batalha de uma guerra civil. Não julga o inimigo: abate-o... Nós não estamos lutando contra indivíduos. Estamos exterminando a burguesia como uma classe. A nossa primeira pergunta é: a que classe o indivíduo pertence, quais são suas origens, criação, educação ou profissão? Estas perguntas definem o destino do acusado. Esta é a essência do Terror Vermelho" (citado por Paul Johnson em Tempos Modernos).
            Stalin se encarregou de aplicar sistematicamente as recomendações de Lênin, e o fez de uma forma completa, terminando por incorporar como "clientes" da máquina de terror administrada por ele os seus próprios colegas de partido. A amplitude do Gulag, ampliado e desenvolvido no seu mais alto grau por Stalin, justifica que apliquemos a ele a categoria de genocídio, noção que costuma estar associada apenas aos terríveis experimentos raciais nazistas, antes e durante a Segunda Guerra Mundial.
            O livro de Anne Applebaum não é, apenas, como seu subtítulo indica, "uma história" dos campos soviéticos, mas a mais completa e sinistra história de um fenômeno único na história da humanidade: uma instituição oficial (ainda que em muitos aspectos "clandestina"), montada e sustentada pelo poder central do Estado, para administrar pelo terror, por um tempo indefinido, uma população inteira de um dos países mais importantes do planeta. A historiadora americana, editorialista do Washington Post e colaboradora do Wall Street Journal, realizou uma pesquisa monumental, indo muito além dos primeiros levantamentos de Alexander Solzenitsyn em torno dos depoimentos dos sobreviventes do nefando sistema de escravização em massa criado pelo totalitarismo soviético.
            Organizado em três partes, o livro documenta amplamente o que até aqui tinha sido divulgado de maneira dispersa em trabalhos de pesquisa histórica que não tinham ainda tido acesso aos principais arquivos soviéticos liberados no período recente. A primeira parte, "As origens do Gulag, 1917-1939", faz a reconstituição histórica dessa instituição singular, que unia a mais transparente crueldade no trato dos prisioneiros ao burocratismo metódico de uma moderna administração voltada para a exploração sistemática do trabalho escravo. Sim, não devemos esquecer que, independentemente de suas funções "didáticas", de intimidação direta e aberta contra a própria população da União Soviética, o Gulag teve um importante papel econômico na história do socialismo naquele país, chegando a representar, a produção de um terço do seu ouro, muito do carvão e da madeira e grandes quantidades de outras matérias-primas. Os prisioneiros passaram a trabalhar em todo e qualquer tipo de indústria, vivendo num país dentro de um outro país.
            A segunda parte, "Vida e trabalho nos campos", mostra também como o sistema do Gulag, que chegou a reunir 476 campos no mais diferentes cantos da URSS, constituía um Estado dentro do Estado, regulando os mais diferentes aspectos de um universo concentracionário que não teve precedentes, teve poucos imitadores efetivos (a despeito da terrível eficácia mortífera dos campos de concentração nazistas) e um número ainda mais reduzido de seguidores (sendo os mais efetivos os sistemas "correcionais" da Coréia do Norte e de Cuba, já que o exemplo do Camboja foi o de uma simples máquina de matar, como de certo modo tinha sido o caso dos experimentos nazistas). 
            A terceira parte, "Ascensão e queda do complexo industrial dos campos, 1940-1986", segue o sistema no seu ápice, durante e imediatamente após a Segunda Guerra Mundial, até o seu desmantelamento gradual após a morte de Stalin (1953) e a disseminação do fenômeno dos "dissidentes": ele foi sendo erodido progressivamente em seu papel político (ainda que não o econômico), mas só teve seu final decretado depois do próprio fim do socialismo.
            Um apêndice tenta quantificar a extensão do terror: de acordo com os próprios dados do sistema (estatísticas da NKVD, sucessora da Cheka e antecessora do KGB), o número de prisioneiros passou de cerca de 200 mil no início dos anos 1930 para 2,5 milhões no momento da morte de Stalin. O "turnover", obviamente, foi muito maior: muitos prisioneiros morreram, alguns escaparam (poucos), vários eram incorporados ao Exército Vermelho ou à própria administração dos campos (cruel ironia). As "taxas de desaparecimentos" refletiram também as terríveis condições de vida na URSS: passou-se de 4,8% de mortos em 1932 para 15,3% no ano seguinte, o que indica o impacto da epidemia de fome induzida pela coletivização stalinista da agricultura, que matou 6 ou 7 milhões de cidadãos "livres" igualmente. A "taxa" de mortos sobe para seu máximo de 25% em 1942, para declinar para menos de 1% nos anos 1950, quando o sistema "industrial" já tinha sido instalado em sua plenitude. No total, 2,7 milhões de cidadãos soviéticos podem ter morrido no sistema do Gulag, o que de todo modo representa apenas uma pequena parte dos desaparecidos durante todo o regime stalinista e uma parte ainda menor dos sacrificados pelo sistema soviético. Os autores franceses do Livre Noir du Communisme, por exemplo, estimam em 20 milhões as vítimas do regime soviético, o que pode ser uma indicação plausível (outros colocam entre 12 e 15 milhões de mortos). Vários historiadores se aproximam da cifra de 28 milhões de cidadãos soviéticos para o número total de “clientes” de todo o sistema concentracionário soviético em sua história de “terror vermelho”.
            O Gulag foi a face mais visível da tragédia soviética, mas certamente não a única ou exclusiva. Este livro conta a história desse terrível legado do socialismo do século XX: esperemos que a história não se repita, sequer como farsa.
            
Paulo Roberto de Almeida
Brasília, 12 de dezembro de 2004

sábado, 9 de setembro de 2023

A memória e o legado do Gulag: The Unquiet Ghost By Adam Hochschild - Book

A memória e o legado do Gulag:
The Unquiet Ghost
By Adam Hochschild

From the celebrated author of King Leopold’s Ghost: This New York Times Notable Book examines the legacy of Joseph Stalin through interviews with gulag survivors, retired concentration camp guards, human rights activists, and more. 



An in-depth exploration of the legacy of Joseph Stalin on the former Soviet Union, by the author of King Leopold’s Ghost.

Although some twenty million people died during Stalin’s reign of terror, only with the advent of glasnost did Russians begin to confront their memories of that time. In 1991, Adam Hochschild spent nearly six months in Russia talking to gulag survivors, retired concentration camp guards, and countless others. The result is a riveting evocation of a country still haunted by the ghost of Stalin.


From Publishers Weekly

Hochschild spent the first half of 1991 in the former Soviet Union interviewing gulag survivors, former camp guards and members of the secret police, writers, artists, human rights activists, neo-Stalinists and ordinary citizens about their opinions of Stalin. This haunting and powerful report reveals that the dictator's legacy persists in widespread denial, amnesia, numbness and pervasive fear among people whose lives were scarred by mass arrests, killings and Stalin's spy network. Hochschild ( The Mirror at Midnight ) traveled to Kolyma, site of the deadliest camps; he interviewed Valentin Berezhkov, who was Stalin's English-language interpreter and privy to the regime's inner circle; he visited Moscow's KGB archives and was given files of American victims of the gulag. Comparing Stalin's purges to the witch craze of early medieval Europe, Hochschild attributes this "self-inflicted genocide" partly to Russians' age-old habits of scapegoating and passive obedience. Photos not seen by PW. First serial to New York Times Magazine .
Copyright 1994 Reed Business Information, Inc.
 --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.

From Library Journal

Hochschild's search for survivors of Stalin's Terror results in a moving historical horror story. He spent half of 1991 in the disintegrating USSR, listening to former prisoners, guards, executioners, and families describe mass murder, imprisonments, interrupted lives, and hopes destroyed. Russian-speaking journalist Hochschild, a founder of Mother Jones , was among the first Americans to enter KGB archives, where he received records of executed Americans. He visited gulag sites and chapters of Memorial, an organization documenting the Terror. He traveled to Kolyma, the frozen final destination for many and a name that resonates among Russians with the power of Auschwitz. Hochschild's questions are disturbing and timeless: Why did the Revolution devour itself? What makes someone an executioner? Hochschild's people, as well as his honesty and passion, make this unforgettable book essential for everyone concerned about history and human rights. Strongly recommended. Previewed in Prepub Alert, LJ 11/1/93.
- Donna L. Cole, Leeds P.L., Ala.
Copyright 1994 Reed Business Information, Inc.
 --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.

From Kirkus Reviews

Although 20 million people died during Stalin's two-decade reign of terror, Russians have only recently, with the advent of glasnost, begun to confront their memories of that time. In 1991, journalist and memoirist Hochschild (Half the Way Home, 1986; The Mirror at Midnight, 1990) spent six months in Russia talking to prison camp survivors, retired concentration camp guards, and countless others: the result is a riveting and eloquent evocation of a country still haunted by the ghost of Stalin. Hochschild compares Russia to an adult survivor of childhood sexual abuse who has spent years denying ``the elephant in the living room.'' Many of Hochschild's subjects open up to him with the intensity of patients confessing long-repressed secrets to a therapist. In the Siberian town of Kolpashevo, Galina Nikiforova, the daughter of a school principal who was taken away one night in 1937 and executed, reveals her certainty that her father was among those buried in a secret mass grave ripped open by the flooding river Ob in 1979 and immediately destroyed by the KGB. Galina can forgive her country anything but its refusal to grant its dead a decent burial. Meanwhile, Galina's neighbor and childhood friend, Inna Sukhanova, daughter of the chief of Kolpashevo's secret police, struggles with her love for her father--a former doctor who spoke four languages--and the anguish she bears for his having ordered the execution of thousands, including Galina's father, for ``nothing.'' Vladimir Glebov, a philosophy teacher in his 60s and son of Party boss Lev Kamenev, who was shot in 1936, spent his childhood wandering through Siberian orphanages and was sentenced, in 1949, to ten years in the gulag for preferring Emily Dickinson to Mayakovsky--experiences that, miraculously, have not dulled his sense of humor or his passion for anti-Stalin jokes. As sensitive, subtle, and moving as Chekhov: journalism raised to the level of art. -- Copyright ©1994, Kirkus Associates, LP. All rights reserved. --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.

From Booklist

The decaying gulag isn't everyone's idea of a four-star itinerary, but Hochschild braved the discomfort to take a tour in 1991. Fluent in Russian, he made his way to dreadful places like Kolyma, the Auschwitz of the labor-camp system, but his real interest, and the value of this narrative, was in talking to people, both jailers and victims, who lived through the horrors. Nobody was exempt from an instant dispatch into hell, as his interview with Stalin's translator shows, but for some, those days weren't all bad. In the steppe town of Karaganda, Hochschild was entertained by a former camp commandant, who proudly showed pictures of himself speaking to an audience of convicts. He spoke with the daughter of a secret-police officer responsible for mass executions, a woman anguished by that knowledge but who, like millions at the time, figured the dead really were enemies of the people. The why of such supinity, and of complicity, is what pulls this acute observer across the vast archipelago. Hochschild attempts to convey some answers, but ultimately his contribution is to seek out witnesses of Stalinism and preserve their ruthlessly realistic testimony. Gilbert Taylor --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.

About the Author

ADAM HOCHSCHILD is the author of ten books. King Leopold’s Ghost was a finalist for the National Book Critics Circle Award, as was To End All Wars. His Bury the Chains was a finalist for the National Book Award and won the Los Angeles Times Book Prize and PEN USA Literary Award. He lives in Berkeley, California.

--This text refers to the paperback edition.

sábado, 30 de dezembro de 2023

50 anos da publicação do Arquipélago do Gulag, de Alexander Soljenitsyn - Daniel J. Mahoney (Law and Liberty)

 

Enduring Truths and Progressivist Illusions


Law and Liberty, December 29, 2023



Solzhenitsyn’s account of applied ideology at work in the totalitarian experiment that was the Soviet Union still remains relevant to readers today.


Many thanks to Spencer A. KlavanDavid P. Deavel, and Jessica Hooten Wilson for their deeply thoughtful and suggestive responses to my forum essay on Solzhenitsyn’s The Gulag Archipelago, a piece occasioned by the 50th anniversary of the publication of that great work. Together, their essays highlight important themes of that work that will resonate as long as human beings remain open to the life of the soul and are confronted, as they inevitably will be, by pernicious ideological challenges to liberty and human dignity.

Among its other contributions, David Deavel’s essay provides an illuminating reflection on the sheer scale or magnitude of Solzhenitsyn’s account of applied ideology at work in the totalitarian experiment that was the Soviet Union. The Gulag Archipelago is indeed a massive if compellingly readable book. Deavel is exactly on the mark when he writes that the book’s “vast amount of detail is essential to the overall effect,” at once dramatic and palpable, that it has on the hearts and minds of its readers.

For example, Solzhenitsyn’s detailed accounts of a series of show trials during the Leninist and Stalinist periods of Soviet rule painstakingly showcase the utter degradation of law under Soviet rule. In doing so, they artfully illustrate the sheer “surreality” of what substitutes for law in an essentially lawless society. If Solzhenitsyn pointedly criticized the excessive legalism of the Western democracies in his 1978 Harvard Address, in The Gulag Archipelago he more fundamentally shows how lawlessness degrades the human soul and makes decent political life impossible. It is a far graver evil than small-minded legalism.

The very last lines of The Gulag Archipelago, completed in 1968 during the Brezhnev period of Soviet rule, read, “For a half century and more the enormous state has towered over us, girded with hoops of steel. The hoops are still there. There is no law.” Or as Solzhenitsyn says in an arresting chapter in the third volume of Gulag entitled “Why Did We Stand For It?”:

The goal of human evolution is not freedom for the sake of freedom. Nor is it the building of an ideal polity. What matter, of course, are the moral foundations of society. But that is in the long run; what about the beginning? What about the first step?

For all their limits from a “higher” point of view, rule of law and political freedom turn out to be invaluable prerequisites for allowing human beings the right to breathe freely and to live humanly tolerable lives.

Deavel is also particularly illuminating about what constitutes the “personal voice of Solzhenitsyn,” including his remarkable capacity in The Gulag Archipelago to take aim at his own personal flaws, failings, and misjudgments. As Deavel aptly puts it, “there is nothing of the moral braggart” in Solzhenitsyn’s self-presentation in the book. The Russian writer knows that he, too, could have succumbed to temptation and have become one of the dreaded bluecaps, or secret police “interrogators,” if an inner voice, the voice of conscience, had not pointed him in a very different direction. Solzhenitsyn’s eventual affirmation of the palpable reality of Divine Providence was rooted in such pitiless but humanizing self-examination. It should be noted that Solzhenitsyn’s fiercest critics, including the mendacious agents of the Soviet party-state and secret police, almost always used and abused such self-critical accounts provided by Solzhenitsyn himself in Gulag.

Let me add that Deavel’s article ends on an admirably high note. He reminds us that however valuable, even precious, they may be, “legal and political freedom” constitute “a trial of our free will just as much as bad circumstances,” such as the “gulag’s absurdities.” And Deavel helpfully recapitulates those “sparks of the spirit” I had referred to in my article: Moral judgment, humility, freedom, and free will guided by conscience that ultimately defers to the benign, if corrective, judgment of God. And I would add noble self-respect, genuine care for the health of one’s soul.

In his article, Spencer Klavan also eloquently reminds us of the peril of succumbing to false confidence in man as the measure of all things: As he notes, Solzhenitsyn’s 1983 Templeton Lecture makes clear the deadly consequences for the individual soul and collective life of “forgetting God,” of succumbing to the false allure of “anthropocentricity” as Solzhenitsyn called it in the Harvard Address. When men confuse themselves for gods they become little more than beasts, as the twin totalitarianisms of the twentieth century, Nazism and communism, so vividly and chillingly illustrate. Klavan also convincingly demonstrates how the ideological Manicheanism of old persists in higher education and among demi-educated activists who now justify new slaughters and repression in the name of “decolonialization” and a fevered hatred for our rich patrimony that is Western civilization. The deepest lessons of the totalitarian episode remain unknown and unacknowledged. The age of ideology is far from over. We are not only at the risk of “forgetting” old crimes but of renewing the ideological Lie that was at their foundation.

Solzhenitsyn respected honest classical liberals who acknowledged hard truths about Communist totalitarianism.

I thank Jessica Hooten Wilson for reminding us all of the humane presence and enduring contributions of the late Edward E. Ericson, Jr., who co-edited The Solzhenitsyn Reader with me, and who in cooperation with Solzhenitsyn gave us the great gift that is the authorized abridgment of The Gulag Archipelago. That judicious version of the work makes its key insights available to the reading public in a concise 500 pages.

I welcome Wilson’s reminder that Solzhenitsyn is not only a great Russian writer but someone who belongs to “world literature” in Goethe’s noble and elevated sense of that term. Solzhenitsyn speaks to the way of the cross born by his own people in the twentieth century even as he contributes to our “universal literary inheritance.” To which one can only say “Amen.”

I would add that Solzhenitsyn not only rebuked the illusions of Russian ultra-nationalists who confused authentic patriotism with expansive empire (a point made well by Wilson) but also the small-minded Ukrainian nationalists or ultra-nationalists who continue to blame the implacable crimes of communism on ”Muscovites” or “Russians” instead of the inhuman universalist ideology that warred on the legitimate national aspirations of both Russians and Ukrainians. As Solzhenitsyn wrote in Rebuilding Russia, Communism was the common enemy of both great peoples, one that brought a murderous ideology-induced famine to the Volga region of Russia in 1921–22 that cost five million lives and an even more murderous one to the Ukraine, Kazakhstan, and the North Caucasus in 1932–33.

To these crimes, one can add the fierce and cruel repression of religion, of free intellectual life, and the independent peasantry that characterized Communist totalitarianism. These were not Russian crimes per se, Solzhenitsyn rightly insisted, but a byproduct of an ideological mentality that warred unrelentingly on free initiative and the human spirit. “As common victims of the communist-imposed collectivization forced upon us by whip and bullet, have we not been bonded by this common bloody suffering?” Solzhenitsyn asked in Rebuilding Russia. Prescient words of wisdom as two once intertwined peoples sink into fratricidal strife that deeply pained the half-Ukrainian Solzhenitsyn (on his mother’s side).

And lastly, why lament, as Wilson seems to do, that many, even most, of Solzhenitsyn’s admirers today tend to be conservative-minded? For better or worse, conservatives are more sensitive to the dangers of “forgetting God,” the evils of what the late Roger Scruton called “the culture of repudiation,” and the sheer ugliness of any identification of Evil with a capital E with specific groups that are said to be intrinsically or ontologically evil (a false and deadly identification that connects the woke with older forms of totalitarianism). To their credit, conservatives have been more openly and consistently anti-totalitarian than those on the Left.

Of course, it is a mistake to politicize Solzhenitsyn in any narrow partisan sense. He certainly has much to say to rebuke the kind of faux “conservative” who has undue confidence in modern “Progress” or the promise of an unlimited materialist cornucopia. Solzhenitsyn respected honest classical liberals who acknowledged hard truths about Communist totalitarianism. But he did not hesitate to take aim at “progressives” who felt a “kinship” with Communism, whatever its murderous pretensions and deeds. They have shown themselves to be appallingly slow to learn the most elementary truths. As Solzhenitsyn wrote about them near the end of The Gulag Archipelago:

All you freedom-loving ”left-wing” thinkers in the West! You left laborites! You progressive American, German, and French students! As far as you are concerned, none of this amounts to much. As far as you are concerned, this whole book of mine is a waste of effort. You may suddenly understand it all someday—but only when you yourselves hear ‘hands behind your backs there’ and step ashore on our Archipelago.

One must ask: Has all that much changed in these last fifty years regarding “progressivist” illusions regarding the totalitarian temptation?

Daniel J. Mahoney is Senior Fellow at the Claremont Institute, Senior Writer at Law and Liberty, and professor emeritus at Assumption University. He has written extensively on Solzhenitsyn, including The Other Solzhenitsyn: Telling the Truth about a Misunderstood Writer and Thinker, which has been available in paperback from St. Augustine’s Press since 2020. He is presently completing a book entitled The Persistence of the Ideological Lie, to be published by Encounter Books.

domingo, 8 de abril de 2018

E por falar em Gulag: resenha de livros de EH net

Published by EH.NET (July 2004) 

Paul R. Gregory, _The Political Economy of Stalinism: Evidence from the Soviet Secret Archives_. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2003. xi + 308 pp. $90 (cloth), ISBN: 0-521-82628-4; $32 (paper), ISBN: 0-521-53367-8. 

Paul R. Gregory and Valery Lazarev, editors, _The Economics of Forced Labor: The Soviet Gulag_. Stanford, CA: Hoover Institution Press, 2003. xvii + 212 pp. $15 (paperback), ISBN: 0-8179-3942-3. 

Reviewed for EH.NET by Mark Harrison, Department of Economics, University of Warwick. 

In 1945 Allied victory in Europe opened up the archives of Hitler's Germany to investigation. Sponsored by the U.S. and British strategic bombing survey groups, a number of talented young economists including John Kenneth Galbraith and Nicholas Kaldor spent years combing through twelve years of records. The results of their work included path-breaking studies of the political economy of the Third Reich. 

The Soviet state collapsed in 1991. Its economic administration was more complex than that of Nazi Germany by an order of magnitude, and it lasted for many decades. It presented a far greater puzzle to western social, political, and economic thought. The records that it left are much more comprehensive. But economists are barely involved in their exploitation, most of which is being left to social and political historians. 
Paul Gregory is one of a small band who have promoted economic research in the Russian archives; the other major figure, on my side of the Atlantic, is Robert W. Davies. For much of the last decade Gregory has been carrying on this work in collaboration with Russians and other westerners. Both the books under review use this research to investigate the Soviet economy and its institutions under Stalin. Gregory's monograph, _The Political Economy of Stalinism_, generalizes from it to make a textbook for economists and economically-minded historians. The volume that he has co-edited with Valery Lazarev, _The Economics of Forced Labor_, brings together a series of new archive-based investigations on a specific theme, the role of labor coercion in the Soviet economy. 

 From a methodological point of view the most important shared aspiration of the two books is to extend the domain of economic analysis. 
Traditionally, western Sovietological economists thought of the Soviet economy as comprised of two spheres. One was the sphere of "mission oriented" activities that aimed at maximizing technological objectives regardless of cost, e.g. building sputniks. The other was the sphere of economic activities that aimed to maximize an economic benefit, e.g. building refrigerators (e.g. Berliner 1976, p. 506-9). It seemed obvious that economic analysis could throw more light on the latter than the former. One of the main contributions of new research has been to extend economic analysis to Soviet centralized decision making with regard to the adoption and pursuit of major technological and institutional missions including collectivization, forced industrialization, the foundations of centralized planning, and the development of the Gulag archipelago. What emerges is that these were also "economic activity" in the sense that the players were all looking for a payoff of one kind or another, and the costs they were willing to incur or impose on others depended on the private stakes. 

First, _The Political Economy of Stalinism_. The argument of the book runs as follows. In Chapter 1 Gregory asks whether we should view the rise and fall of the Soviet economy in terms of "The Jockey or the Horse?" What was more important: the qualities and decisions of individual leaders (the jockey) or their institutional context and constraints (the horse)? He concludes that this is a largely false distinction: the 
Soviet command economy fostered dictatorship and those who are self-selected for dictatorship tend to conform to a type. Thus, "the jockey and horse are not selected independently" (p. 21). No one could have beaten Stalin to the leadership who was not even more controlled, crafty, and brutal than Stalin himself. In chapter 2 Gregory goes on to argue that the emergence of a command system with Stalin in charge was a largely inevitable consequence of the Bolshevik revolution. The defining event was the decision to collectivize peasant agriculture in 1929, which was intended to fix a growing crisis of grain marketings. Gregory argues that 
this crisis was largely a result of government policy, but the policy did not result from any misunderstanding of economics. Rather, government policy pursued more accumulation than the peasantry and market forces were prepared to allow, and Stalin's response was then to abolish the market and subordinate the peasantry directly to the state. 
Chapter 3 outlines the five "Principles of Governance" of the new Stalinist state, which Gregory identifies as a command system based on collective farming and forced industrialization; the suppression of views that diverged from the party's general line; the merging of the ruling party with the state; the prohibition of factions and the subordination of interest groups to the encompassing interests of the party-state; and Stalin as a personal dictator empowered to settle disputes among the top leaders. The result was to place an astonishing workload on Stalin personally; since he had the right to arbitrate on all important decisions, and to select what was important, the result was that agents at lower levels passed a vast array of unselected trivia up to him. Gregory calls this "The Dictator's Curse." Although he chafed against it, Stalin preferred it to the alternative which could have left him out of the loop on decisions that might afterwards have turned out to be significant. 
Given a dictatorship, what kind of dictator was Stalin? In chapter 1 Gregory outlines various types of dictator: benevolent, proprietary (i.e. Olson's "stationary bandit"), selfish, or one that holds the ring. The Stalin that emerges from the chapters that follow is not benevolent, mainly proprietary, sometimes selfish and sometimes ring-holding when it suited him. The stationary bandit emerges most clearly in Chapter 4, which deals with the core of Stalinist economic policy. Here Gregory outlines a model of investment maximization subject to an inherited capital stock and a workforce that supplies effort subject to a "fair" wage. He substantiates this model with reference to two things: Stalin's well-known obsession with accumulation, and his watchful concern for worker discontent that the archives have revealed. The secret police monitored worker morale and kept Stalin well informed. Stalin controlled this dissatisfaction in two ways: locally by redeploying consumer goods when signs of discontent appeared to grow critical and, when discontent became general, by cutting investment back. Although Stalin could maximize the volume of investment in this way, however, he could not make it efficient and the history of the period abounds in what look like disastrous decisions when it came to detailed allocation. 
Chapters 5 to 9 deal, respectively, with long term planning at the center, the tensions between central planners and industrial ministries, opportunistic behavior within the ministries, the process of planning within the ministries, and the implementation of financial controls. 
Gregory suggests that long term plans were primarily political and motivational instruments that aimed to shift the focus and balance of power in Soviet institutions by flushing out opponents and enabling others to signal loyalty. When long term plans were broken down into operational targets for each sector responsibility for implementation had to be delegated, and this created scope for the pursuit of departmental and personal self-interest. This formed the basis of perennial plan bargaining. 
Because the producers themselves controlled the vital information about requirements and achievements the result was that Stalin's planning agency, Gosplan, clashed repeatedly with the industrial ministries not only over real demands and supplies but also over information. Stalin kept Gosplan loyal and relatively truthful only by keeping it small and disinterested in the fulfillment of plans. Even so, Gosplan had to compromise with industry, for example, by leaving central plans highly aggregated; this gave industry control over fulfillment in detail. 
Detailed allocation was then governed largely by intra-ministerial decisions. This was the point at which centralized guidance and the requirements of efficiency lost most of their impact. Ministerial planning was largely retrospective and plans usually remained preliminary; they were rarely taken to the final stage of official confirmation, which made them easier to revise. A detailed study of decision making in the chief administration for metallurgy shows that, while orders and information shuttled up and down the ministerial hierarchy, everyone engaged in characteristic forms of opportunism. To their inferiors, each official demanded rigorous implementation of orders, while bargaining with and concealing resources from those above them. Real allocation took place at a level far below that of the plans; more effort went into ensuring supplies than organizing production. Loyalty and personal promotion went hand in hand; the promotion of individuals required a growing number of high level positions, met by continually promoting sub-ministerial organizations to ministerial status. Regardless of their personal profile, all ministerial officials behaved in much the same way in relation to their own fiefs. Finally, in forming the motives for opportunism money was more important than has been thought, not necessarily for personal enrichment but for easing the path to plan fulfillment, and financial controls were chaotic. 
Gregory concludes with a retrospective on the whole Soviet era, including the collapse of 1991. The inner logic of the system boiled down to coercion. "The extreme concentration of historical power was not a historical accident" (p. 252). "The system's founders ... clearly understood ... that enterprises must be coerced if resources are allocated administratively. The system had to wait more than fifty five years for a dictator to come along who did not understand this basic principle" (p. 256). This would make it seem as if the fault for the Soviet collapse lay with Gorbachev. Gregory also argues, however, that the coercive system did not only concentrate power; it also deprived the dictator of criteria with which to make efficient decisions, and it deprived those below him of any motivation towards efficiency. Poor information and bad motivation was combined with complexity that increased through time and returns that diminished to the point of no return. 

More detailed light is shed on coercion in the Soviet economy by the second book under review, _The Economics of Forced Labor_. This book results from collaboration between the editors, Gregory and Valery Lazarev, and several Russian scholars; there are also contributions by another American, a Britisher, and a German, so the cast of characters is genuinely multinational. Robert Conquest provides a short foreword after which Gregory's introduction sets out the main lines of historical development of the Gulag (chief administration of labor camps of the Soviet interior ministry, NKVD, later MVD). This information, mostly already known, provides the context for the subsequent chapters. In the 1920s there was just one Soviet forced labor complex on the northern Solovetskii islands. The first big expansion came with the collectivization of peasant agriculture which threw hundreds of thousands of well-to-do peasant families into captivity; the Gulag was created in 1930 to handle the sudden inflow. After that, recruitment became big business and by the early 1950s there were about 2.5 million penal laborers, mostly engaged in forestry, mining, and construction; they formed significant shares of the workforce in these sectors, but never more than about 3 percent of the total workforce including farm workers, and less than this in terms of the value of national output. By the end the Gulag had evolved a complex functional and production branch structure; it employed "freely-hired" civilians in large numbers, and rented many of its own inmates out to civilian employers; it employed guards in a ratio that rose as high as one to ten inmates, but many of the guards were themselves inmates. 

The introduction is followed by three overview chapters, five case studies, and concluding remarks by Valery Lazarev. Chapter 2 by Andrei Sokolov, "Forced Labor in Soviet Industry," provides often neglected context in terms of the mechanisms of the wider Soviet labor market. The important thing here is that the growth of the Gulag was part of a wider process that had largely substituted coercion for other incentives by the end of the 1930s. State employees now faced draconian penalties of imprisonment and forced labor for lateness, minor absenteeism, and unauthorized departures; these remained in force until Stalin's death. Wartime decrees imposed still harsher penalties on violations by workers in defense industry and transport. These laws were widely flouted yet still netted fifteen million convictions in twelve years, including a million Gulag terms of between three and ten years. They were thus a major recruiting sergeant for the labor camps. This also illustrates a fact that is not widely appreciated: although the Gulag population was smaller than western observers had sometimes guessed, it also had high turnover with many entering the system for relatively short periods before returning to society. 

In chapter 3, Oleg Khlevniuk gives a short account of the political turning points in the history of the Gulag, and goes on to tackle two questions about the efficacy of forced labor. He shows that the Gulag authorities gradually lost faith in the utility of marshalling human masses into unskilled employment at gunpoint; forced labor became increasingly mechanized and skilled and even began to attract wage payments. There was a process of "conversion of slaves to serfs" (p. 57). Khlevniuk also questions the developmental role of forced labor in the sense that the projects on which it was employed were valued at cost, but the cost was much greater than their true worth to society. "Many prisoner-built projects were difficult, or almost impossible, to build with free workers, but was it necessary to build them at all?" (p. 64). The White Sea-Baltic Canal and the Baikal-Amur Mainline would not have been undertaken in a market economy, not because a market economy lacked the "advantages" of socialism but because they would never yield a profit under any system. 

Aleksei Tikhonov analyzes "The End of the Gulag" in chapter 4. In 1953, within three months of Stalin's death, MVD chief Lavrentii Beriia had released one and a half million prisoners, 60 percent of the gulag's inmates. Tikhonov points out that this could not have been prepared overnight. In fact, elements within the MVD wanted to put an end to the growing financial losses of the Gulag, and were also alarmed by its high rates of recidivism. Seeing that the Gulag was not working in terms of either exploitation or rehabilitation, they had been trying to scale it down since 1949 with proposals to convert a large part of the camp workforce to exiled laborers, "freely-hired" although not free to go home. Ironically the original reformers were themselves victimized after Stalin died. 

The next five chapters cover more specific aspects arising from forced labor in Noril'sk (Leonid Borodkin and Simon Ertz), the Far East (David Nordlander), Noril'sk again (Ertz), the White Sea-Baltic Canal project (Mikhail Morukov), and Karelia (Christopher Joyce). Some highlights: the experience of the Far Eastern camps illustrates the perennial tension between the possibilities for exploiting the forced laborers and the requirements of maintaining them. The Karelian camps show the experimental process by which the authorities learned the scope and limits of the exploitation of forced labor. The White Sea-Baltic Canal project was initially seen as a story of "successful" completion, and this stimulated illusory expectations for the future. The Gulag leaders willingly undertook the building of Noril'sk as a result because they underestimated the risks and difficulties that would arise. The operation of Noril'sk helped to expose illusions about the ease with which the inmates could be manipulated and coerced into supplying effort. The "profitable" exploitation of forced labor proved an elusive goal. As time went on the authorities lost faith in unbridled coercion and heavy punishments, and turned more and more to positive inducements including higher wages and early release in return for extra effort. 

Both the volumes that I have reviewed here adopt the methodology of social science. Narrative provides background but is not the central focus. Alternative hypotheses are formulated and tested informally. The standards of evidence and proof are not those that are usually available in conventional applied economics. There are figures and tables but no large quantitative datasets and hardly any regressions. The great bulk of the evidence is qualitative: decrees, memoranda, judgments, letters, reports of conversations, and anecdotes. The argument proceeds mainly by illustration. This is characteristic of the new institutional economic history associated with the writing of figures such as Douglass C. North and Avner Greif. At the present it is not clear that anyone can do better. 

One possible criticism of both books is that while it is obvious that the source materials are new it is not so clear that the conclusions are always novel. To give an example from each book: Gregory finds that the 
main purpose of long term plans was motivational, but Eugène Zaleski (1971, p. 291) also concluded that the main role of these plans was to act as a "vision of growth." Several contributors to _The Economics of Forced Labor_ note the surprising importance of positive incentives in securing effort from prisoners who were apparently completely powerless and whose reservation wage was apparently close to zero; but the same point was made before by Rasma Karklins (1989). Indeed, in the early chapters of his _Gulag Archipelago_ Alexander Solzhenitsyn (1974) provided an extended analysis of the labor economics of the camps, based on anecdote and memoir; the incentives that he described are quite different from those emphasized by the work presently under review, and it would be of interest to see discussion of the possible reasons for this divergence. Having said this, there can be no doubt that the general level of evidential detail and economic analysis in the present works is greatly superior to anything that has been available hitherto. 

These books share still other features. There is something in them to challenge everyone. Both assume some background knowledge of Russian and Soviet history and will be read with great interest by specialists and 
Honors students. Historians may find that they need to rethink historical problems in terms of the economic choices that were available. 
Economists will find themselves challenged by unfamiliar institutions and unusual problems to solve; in the past year I have used _The Political Economy of Stalinism_ as a textbook for economics undergraduates who have been excited by the opportunity to think outside the boxes of Micro 101. As a teacher of economics and economic history I believe that these books signal new directions in the study of the Soviet economy that have interesting parallels with the new thinking in economic history and political economy associated with scholars like Greif and Daron Acemoglu. 
They will greatly influence the ways that we teach and do research in the future. 

In summary, if you want to know more about where Soviet economic history is going I strongly recommend that you read these exciting new books. 
The Hoover Institution has generously made the full text of _The Economics of Forced Labor_ available free of charge; the URL is: 

http://www-hoover.stanford.edu/publications/books/gulag.html

References: Berliner, Joseph S. 1976. _The Innovation Decision in Soviet Industry_. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. 

Karklins, Rasma. 1989. "The Organisation of Power in Soviet Labour Camps." _Soviet Studies_, 41:2, pp. 276-297. 

Solzhenitsyn, Alexander. 1974. _The Gulag Archipelago, 1918-1956_. Volume 1. London: Collins/Fontana. 

Zaleski, Eugène. 1971. _Planning for Economic Growth in the Soviet Union, 1918-1932_. Chapel Hill, NC: University of North Carolina Press 

Mark Harrison is professor of economics at the University of Warwick and honorary senior research fellow of the Centre for Russian and East European Studies, University of Birmingham. He is the author of a number of books and articles on Soviet economic history including "The Political Economy of a Soviet Military R&D Failure: Steam Power for Aviation, 1932 to 1939," _Journal of Economic History_, 63:1, 2003, pp. 178-212.  
He edits the PERSA (Political Economy Research in Soviet Archives)Working Papers, available from http://www.warwick.ac.uk/go/sovietarchives

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