MindMatters: Mr. Jones and the 'Holodomor' Red Pill - What Happened During Stalin's Famine?

smertzasmert I agree with you. Holodomor is a big pearl of fascist propaganda, cultivated around a mere grain of truth. With the overthrow of the USSR, and those who overthrew it still in power in Russia today, this myth has managed to flourish virtually unchallenged. But times are a change'n...

Here in Russia there is a resurgence of youth reexamining post-soviet "truths" which were handed to them by the colonizers and their collaborators.

But anyway, it is my understanding that SoTT is deeply influenced by the perp-turned-victim Polish mentality, so this sort of rubbish is to be expected.

Here in Russia there is a resurgence of youth reexamining post-soviet "truths" which were handed to them by the colonizers and their collaborators.

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adipocere I agree with you. Holodomor is a big pearl of fascist propaganda, cultivated around a mere grain of truth. With the overthrow of the USSR, and those who overthrew it still in power in Russia today, this myth has managed to flourish virtually unchallenged. But times are a change'n...

Here in Russia there is a resurgence of youth reexamining post-soviet "truths" which were handed to them by the colonizers and their collaborators.

But anyway, it is my understanding that SoTT is deeply influenced by the perp-turned-victim Polish mentality, so this sort of rubbish is to be expected.

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My mother-in-law still thinks Stalin was a great guy even though he sent her husband to the gulag.

hkoehli I think the gulags were prisons in an underdeveloped country where the climate was inescapably harsh. When you use the English word for it, and realize that the vast majority of gulag inmates were criminals who served their sentences and returned to society, then it sort of takes the wind out of it. Sure there were political prisoners, as there are anywhere and everywhere.

I wonder if you would sit down on your show and wax indignant about Black Panthers who were framed up by the FBI and sentenced to rot in prison for life here in America, or about Gitmo inmates imprisoned now for over a decade in an illegal in every sense of the word black site that itself is illegally occupying the communist country of Cuba. Probably not.

You sympathize with the fascist version of events, even if you find that unpalatable. In 30 years, your ideological protege will be pontificating on how evil (the dead and gone) Assad was for gassing his own people, and he would know it was true because he will have read a book written by White Helmets, moving memoirs from a US Ambassador and some blog by a gay girl in Damascus. Oh he also would cite some Syrain govt statistics helpfully provided by the good folks over at The Syrian Observatory For Human Rights.

Just to remind those who are not aware of the tragedy, in 1932-1933 there was a severe famine throughout the USSR that claimed an unprecedented number of lives (up to 7 million victims, according to some debatable estimates).

In the early 1930s, over 91% of agricultural land became collectivized as rural households entered collective farms with their land, livestock, and other assets. The collectivization era saw several famines, many due to the shortage of modern technology in USSR at the time, but critics have also cited deliberate action on the government's part.[3] The death toll cited by experts has ranged from 7 million to 14 million.[4]

It was one batshit crazy thing after another with that idiot.

Textbook pathological egotism.

Here is a truth in the 1930's western governments would not except money , gold for payments for goods .

Even if I accept all his major points, the moral of his story is: "The Brits made us do it! Total industrialization at any cost!" No mention of forced collectivization and confiscation of all farm products, Stalin's total obstinacy during the years in question, the arrest, torture and exile of "criminal" peasants, ...

This is no excuse for robbing from other people, and killing them.

It's quite amazing how effective it is - every single fucking time.

I spent the winter of 1932-33 mainly in Kharkov, then capital of the Ukraine. It was the catastrophic winter after the first wave of collectivization of the land; the peasants had killed their cattle, burned or hidden their crops and were dying of starvation and typhoid; the number of deaths in the Ukraine alone is estimated at about two millions. Travelling through the countryside was like running the gauntlet ; the stations were lined with begging peasants with swollen hands and feet, the women holding up to the carriage-windows horrible infants with enormous wobbling heads, stick-like limbs, swollen, pointed bellies. You could swap a loaf of bread for Ukrainian embroidered kerchief, national costumes and bedcovers; foreigners could sleep with practically any girl except party-members for a pair of shoes or stockings. Under my hotel-room window in Kharkov funeral processions marched past all day . The electricity supply in Kharkov had broken down; there was no light in the town, and the functioned only for an hour or so a day to take workers to the factories and back. There was also no fuel or petrol in the town and the winter was hard even for the Ukraine, with temperatures of 30 degrees below zero. Life seemed to have come to a stand-still, the whole machinery was on the verge of collapse.

Today, the catastrophe of 1932-33 is more or less frankly admitted in Soviet circles; but at the time not the slightest allusion to real conditions was allowed to appear in the Soviet press, including the newspapers of the Ukraine itself. Each morning when I read the Kharkov Kommunist I learned about plan-figures reached and over-reached , about competitions between factory shock brigades, awards of the Red Banner, new giant combines in the Urals, and so on; the photographs were either of young people, always laughing and always carrying a banner in their hands, or of some picturesque elder in Usbekistan, always smiling and always learning the alphabet. Not one word about the local famine, epidemics, the dying out of whole villages; even the fact that there was no electricity in Kharkov was not once mentioned in the Kharkov newspaper . It gave one a feeling of dream-like unreality; the paper seemed to talk about some quite different country which had no point of contact with the daily life we led; and the same applies to the radio. The consequence of all this was that the vast majority of people in Moscow had no idea of what went on in Kharkov, and even less of what went on in Tashkent, or Archangel or Vladivostok — twelve days’ train journey away, in a country where travelling was reserved for government officials; and these travellers were not of a talkative nature. The enormous land was covered by a blanket of silence, and nobody outside the small circle of initiated could form a comprehensive picture of the situation.

It gave one a feeling of dream-like unreality; the paper seemed to talk about some quite different country which had no point of contact with the daily life we led; and the same applies to the radio.

Each morning when I read the Kharkov Kommunist I learned about plan-figures reached and over-reached , about competitions between factory shock brigades, awards of the Red Banner, new giant combines in the Urals, and so on; the photographs were either of young people, always laughing and always carrying a banner in their hands, or of some picturesque elder in Usbekistan, always smiling and always learning the alphabet. Not one word about the local famine, epidemics, the dying out of whole villages; even the fact that there was no electricity in Kharkov was not once mentioned in the Kharkov newspaper . It gave one a feeling of dream-like unreality; ...