Russian Language Blog

Joseph Stalin once said, “We have to make a choice between… slavery and vodka.”

That was in 1925, just as Stalin was beginning his brutal ascent to power, crafting a regime that would industrialize the Soviet Union on the backs of slave labor. And cheap vodka.

Indeed, vodka and Russia have been bound together in a Gordian knot for half a millenium. Ivan the Terrible instituted a system of kabaks (reputedly imported from the Tatars) that allowed the state to reap huge revenue from intoxication. His son Fyodor tore down the kabaks in an religiously-inspired effort to purify the nation. But the reformer Boris Godunov, who succeeded Fyodor, saw the economic potential in strong drink. It has been a see-saw ever since.

Catherine the Great famously said it was easier to rule her subjects when they were dulled by the effects of vodka. Would that the twelfth (and final) Romanov ruler to succeed her, Nicholas II, had heeded her sentiments. For it could be argued that the tsars lost their empire because of vodka. Or lack thereof.

During the First World War, Nicholas II thought it was more important to keep the troops sober than sedated, and so a temperance law was instituted and vodka production all but halted. Problem was, the Russian State was heavily dependent upon vodka for tax revenue (in the nineteenth century, 40 percent of state revenue was garnered from vodka taxes). And any fool knows you don’t fight a war without thinking how you are going to pay for it…

So, in 1917, Russian soldiers were getting neither vodka nor timely salaries. Add a few factory strikes into the mix, and you have a recipe for Revolution.

The Bolsheviks originally maintained the vodka ban on ideological grounds (i.e. Stalin’s statement above, which hewed neatly to Lenin’s line). But the demands of industrialization being what they were (tax revenue, remember?), by the 1930s, Stalin was ramping up vodka production. (Just for the record, he was against it before he was for it.)

Koroche, since Ivan the Terrible established the first kabak, the Russian state has used proceeds from vodka sales to further both its foreign and domestic agendas. And the Russian public has repeatedly obliged the leadership by consuming vast amounts of vodka.

The results have been about what you would expect. In a long article I wrote for Russian Life magazine with Mikhail Ivanov in 1998, we cited Stephen White’s catalog of ills wrought by vodka in the second half of the twentieth century:

“…alcohol abuse became the single largest cause cited for divorce; by the late 1970s, life expectancy for Russian males had dropped to just 61 years; between 1960 and 1987, there was a population loss due to alcohol abuse in Russia of some 30-35 million persons; 74% of all murders committed in the early 1980s were committed under the influence of alcohol, as was the same proportion of rapes; in the early 1980s, 75-90% of absences from work were related to alcohol; economic production was said to drop by up to 30% following weekends and paydays; by one estimate, the economic losses from alcohol abuse in the 1980s were three times the amount taken in through taxes on alcohol.”

 Add to this the epidemic of alcohol poisoning in the 1990s, due to poor regulations (90,000 in 1997 alone), and there is no way but to conclude that Russia has savagely abused itself with vodka for nearly six centuries.

And yet… vodka is still a central part of Russian culture, an important part to toasting business deals, holidays and family celebrations. As a true vodka lover will tell you, vodka can be a very subtle drink, full of interesting aromas and aftertastes. As long, of course, as you don’t make yourself a slave to it.

Maybe that is what Stalin really meant.

About the author
Paul E. Richardson has been involved with all things Russian for 30 years. In his day job, he is publisher of Russian Life, a bimonthly magazine on Russian culture, history, travel and life. His novel Russian Rules (a thriller of sorts about loose nukes, mistaken identity and iPhones) was released in 2011, and his tribute to the running life, Running is Flying, will be published by Rodale in 2012.

This was the first electronic game I ever played and one of the only two I really got into (the other one was Arkanoid). This particular game, called simply Electronika, was extremely popular (as if there were other alternatives, right?). It seemed that everyone but me had it. This is NOT what’s being given away (I honestly don’t think I’d be able to part with it if I somehow got a console). But it is very relevant to the giveaway. Keep reading to find out how.

By the time you’ll be reading the giveaway will be over, the winner chosen and the secret revealed. But at the time of writing of this post, there are still a few hours left in the giveaway. So the only thing I can do right now is to reveal the secret prize.

I’m not exactly sure how to say “giveaway” in Russian. It’s neither a «лотерея» [lottery] nor «тотализатор» [tote board] nor «конкурс» [contest]. So I’m going to settle on «посты с бесплатной выдачей приза» [posts with giving away of a free prize]. And speaking of «этот самый приз» [this very prize], it’s about time to explain what’s being given away.

Do you believe that «книга – лучший подарок» [a book is the best gift]? I do! For a while Russians prided themselves to be «самая читающая страна в мире» [the most well-read country in the world]. But I realize that «труднопроизносимые имена, уменьшительно-ласкательные имена и прозвища» [hard to pronounce names, diminutives and nicknames], «предложения с деепричастными оборотами» [sentences with verbal adverb phrases], and, as one of the readers put it recently, “tantric suffering” of the characters might make Russian classical literature not so «читабельная» [readable] to many readers.

But the book that’s being given away is nothing of the sorts. It’s written in English and it’s «документальная литература» [a non-fiction book]. It is “Made in Russia: Unsung Icons of Soviet Design”. This book “celebrates the more populist and enduring work in graphic and industrial design” produced in the Soviet Union.

Years back, consumer goods «сделанные в Советском Союзе» [made in the USSR] were considered inferior to those made elsewhere. They were of poor quality and, usually, extremely unappealing. Just think of the Soviet-era underwear.  When I think of items like «колготки» [tights], «куклы» [dolls], «машины» [cars], «шкафы» [wardrobes], and many others I feel both bitter and amused.

This book reminded me of other things, the ones that were actually well-designed or at least were intended to be well-designed. Some of the designs we took for granted, such as the «авоська» bags or «треугольные молочные пакеты» [triangular milk cartons]. But all became symbolic of supposedly non-consumerist era.

So that’s the prize that is being given away in just about an hour or so.

Finally, a bit of house-keeping here – I will be randomly selecting a winner in just a little bit (by the time you’re reading this, I will already know the name). But I might not be able to post the announcement on the blog until next week. Blame it on «ураган» [hurricane] Irene. If it goes the way they are predicting, I might not have Internet connection for a few days.

Well, «друзья» [friends], it has happened again: I sat down to write «про грамматику» [about grammar] and instead I wrote about something completely different. I found this «фоторепортаж» [photo essay] on the website of «магазин Внешняя политика» [the magazine "Foreign Policy"] called, in English, “Russia’s Big Backyard.” I have opted to translate the title as «ближнее зарубежье» [the near abroad] since that’s basically what the English title implies. In the photo: a map from Wikipedia of what exactly «ближнее зарубежье» is.

I do not know much «авторское право» [copyright], which is why I am not putting any of the excellent photos in this post. Instead, I will provide links to appropriate photos throughout this post, so you can click on them if you want.

Since it is «двадцать лет после СССР» [twenty years since the USSR], many news websites are writing about what has happened «за двадцать лет» [for twenty years]. «В центральной Азии» [in Central Asia] there are «две религии» [two religions]: Christianity and Islam. There are still remnants of Soviet rule in «Узбекистан, Туркменистан, Таджикистан, Казахстан, и Киргизия» [Uzbekistan, Turkmenistan, Tajikistan, Kazakhstan, and Kyrgyzstan], like «этот памятник Ленину в Таджикистане» [this monument to Lenin in Tajikistan].

Unfortunately, «в сельской местности» [in rural areas], it can be difficult for people to get access to health care and social services. These countries’ political systems are not perfect, either. Most of them could be classified as «диктатуры» [dictatorships].

«Узбекистан» [Uzbekistan] has a large Russian minority, though many have left «в Россию» [for Russia].

«Казахстан» [Kazakhstan] appears to be doing the best of all the Central Asian countries. «Экономика» [The economy] has grown a lot. Unfortunately, «Нурсултан Назарбаев» [Nursultan Nazarbayev] has had power «за двадцать один год» [twenty-one years]. «Я очень хочу поехать в Казахстан» [I really want to go to Kazakhstan] just to see the world’s largest tent. «На последнем этаже – пляж!» [There is a beach on the top floor!]

I do not know much about «Киргизия» [Kyrgyzstan], except for the fact that there was a revolution there recently. Oh, and one of my friends was there recently, and she rode a horse, just like the people in this photo.

You would probably be fine with speaking just Russian in all the countries I’ve mentioned so far, with one exception: «Туркменистан» [Turkmenistan]. The first president had «культ личности» [a cult of personality] that included emphasizing native culture over the Soviet-era Russification. Luckily, there is less of a personality cult since the first president died — «его преемник» [his successor] was his personal dentist, of all people. The current president «очень любит лошадей» [really loves horses].

I’ve never been to any of these Central Asian countries. If you have, please share your experiences in the comments!

I’m planning four parts for this series. «Часть первая» [Part 1], this part, is about «центральная Азия» [Central Asia]. «Часть вторая» [Part 2] will be about «Беларусь, Украина и Россия» [Belarus, Ukraine, and Russia]. «Часть третья» [Part 3] will be about «Кавказ» [the Caucasus]. «Часть четвёртая» will be about «балтийские страны» [the Baltic countries]. I originally was going to write «прибалтика», which is what I had learned to call the Baltic countries, but a native-speaking friend told me that is an imperialist term that should be avoided. Thoughts?