Moscow Under the Soviet

Evening Star, Issue 20053, 19 December 1928, Page 5

Moscow Under the Soviet

REVISITED AFTER FIFTEEN YEARS [By Dr Hagnmm Wright, in ‘The Times.’] Great changes aro apparent in Russia and Moscow to-day. “My lather chastised you with whips, but J. will chastise you with scorpions.” No ono revisiting Russia could fail to seo tho contrasts with conditions 111 teen years ago or to recognise tho forces that now rule. I claim to bo an impartial judge. For more than twenty-live years before the war I studied Russia and Russian literature, and while never at any time concerned with politics in Russia or in my own country, I had a sympathy lor the political refugee. I had seen so much of the horrors of Tsarist Russia, the trains of political prisoners then going to Siberia, that my sympathies were all on the side of reform. As president of a little Russian library in the East End of London I assisted and befriended several exiles who now sit in the seals of tho mighty (and it is Interesting to note tli.it not one of those who caino to that East End library called on me in my hotel during my recent visit to Moscow). Moscow in 19Ri was full of Jile and vigour; luxuriously-appointed carriages carried well-dressed women in rich inrs, and cabs plied up an,d down in endless succession. Every shop was gay and attractive, with liveried doorkeepers as magnets to draw customers. Tho poorer townsfolk seemed to share the general animation find went about Ibcir _business briskly. Now Moscow is a city ot living automata, of men like Robots. Tbo streets arc crowded with human beings—the population lias increased upwards of a miilioB —and all are poorly clad. Few attempt to follow Western fashions of dress, and such vanities as silk stockings and lipsticks appear unknown. The great market place (the Sakhareva) is full of sombrcly-clad men and women wandering to and fro with small concern save to get food to cat ami clothes to wear. Carriages and their elegant occupants have disappeared; only an occasional motor car rolls past with two or three men inside, probably officials. The izvoschiks of olden days no longer shout for fares; their trade has gone, because the people who used them have been wiped out. Instead, electric tramcars convey hundreds to and from the centre of the city, each one with a burden ol passengers far greater than it should carry. POVERTY AND GLOOM.

In the streets there were queues ol women—6o to 100 in number—patiently waiting their turn to enter tho milk shops, for milk and butter aro scarce to-day. Outside the large store in the Petrovka (formerly Messrs Muir and Mirrelces’s emporium) similar queues wailed to buy tho cheap shoddy goods provided by tho Government. Many streets were lined with hawkers selling a variety of wares—little traders, boys, girls, men, and women with handfuls of goods: linen headdresses, _ knives, toys, cigarettes, apples, anything that they had been able to gather together in the hope of earning a few pence. Tho great glass shop fronts were in many places broken or cracked across, and many of tho shops, notably in the Nikolskaya, wove empty and deserted. The vast arcades opposite the Kremlin, where tho fur merchants and others used to display their goods, were almost entirely abandoned. Only in tho public gardens in tho various parts of Moscow could ono escape the prevailing air of gloom, for these aro well cared for, and sandhills are provided for the children. Many gardens have also been added to tho city from confiscated demesnes and several waste places reclaimed, and the boulevards have been adorned with flower beds. Another innovation worthy of note is tho opening of workmen’s and peasants’ hostels, where a man may get bed and food cither free of all payment or for a very small sum for some days while he goes about his business _or socks legal advice, which is also given free, and for which there is considerable demand in consequence of the redistribution of land. Noteworthy, too, arc tho creches, enabling mothers to deposit their babies while they work or while they visit cinemas. ’ The housing problem is acute. The apparent injustice of depriving owners of their houses wears a somewhat different aspect when one realises tho actual situation, though tho forced evacuations in the height of the revolution were ruthless and inhuman. The influx to the city has been enormous, and there lias been no building to speak of. The situation to-day is a severe hardship for those accustomed to ample accommodation; they arc often limited to one room—that room to servo as dining room, study, and bedroom—and probably compelled to share it with others. The whole condition of life, except for a few favoured families, is fraught with discomforts, of which not the least is the entire lack of privacy. RELIGION AND EDUCATION.

It is difficult in tlio course of a sliort visit to form an accurate judgment on the religious life of a nation, but there was certainly less show of reverence before the sacred icons than of old. Hundreds passed the chapel of the I.vcrsky icon without paying it any attention. Anti-religious propaganda is very active, but what effect it produces is not easy to say. _\Vhen 1 intimated my intention of going to church on Sunday morning the men and women servants around mo received the announcement in silence, simply saying that they did not go. The churches, however, were full—l visited three that Sunday morning—and it was noticeable that the services were conducted with greater simplicity than of old. it seems to me unlikely that a population of unlettered peasantry and workmen will easily bo persuaded to renounce the religion of their fathers in favour of an atheism; but I heard that Nonconformist sects, especially Baptists, were gaining many followers, their leaders being strong, earnest men, steadfast in their faith. With regard to education, such statistics as are available point to a steadily increasing number of students (approximately 37,000 in Moscow University) and of those who desire that their children should ho well taught. But free access to the university is not granted to everyone. Applicants are selected from four categories, priority being given to sons of workmen, then to the peasantry, next to sons of employees, and lastly to tho sons and daughters of lawyers, doctors, and parents not engaged in industrial pursuits. By a recent concession the children of specialists arc now admitted to the first category. Those in the last class—i.e., children of professional men —are virtually boycotted. Fifty per cent, of" the students, sons and daughters of workmen, receive a scholarship of twenty-five roubles a month. All the children of those who work in factories arc allowed in without examination, hut unless they show an aptitude for learning they have to leave. These restrictions are obviously harmful to the education of the country. Tho. public library, however, is filled to overflowing, and the bookshops seemed to thrive. At the same time, the incessant employment of cinema and stage as instruments of propaganda is wearying and inartistic. As for the Soviet Government, the idealism which inspired the first social upheavals in Russia is now completely extinguished. Materialism reigns in its stead. The men who rebelled against Tsardom shed their own blood without stint, tlie men who now stand at tho helm are ready to shed only the blood of others. The old reformer was out

against despotism and its attendant cruelties. Cruelty has now boon elevated to tho rank of a virtue. This revolution is inspired by a thirst for revenge, and in the name of revenge all things aro justified. The men who onco cried aloud for equality and justice are in their turn employing the machinery and weapons of tho despot, but with “ ten times greater fury and vindictiveness,” to quote the words of a foroogner formerly, he told me, an ardent partisan of revolution. It was Prince Kropotkin—after whom a street has been renamed—who wrote on i scrap of paper on his deathbed; “ Why has Revolution no noble side to it? ” 'THE MEN IN POWER. The Labour men in England are men who have toiled with their hands, and by sheer merit, hard work, and ability have forced their way to the front rank in the councils of the nation. Tho rulers of Russia aro former students, engineers, school teachers, and the like, who suffered exile or imprisonment under the Tsarist regime. They belong chiefly to what wo would term the lower middle class. Few of them have worked their way through the factories and mines of the country. They have seized tho reins of power and govern with a despotism unequalled by any Tsar. For obvious reasons I have avoided giving details or recounting instances of Soviet tyranny and Soviet methods lest reprisals, so greatly feared, should bo visited on innocent persons. There are a great many minor changes which may interest those familiar with pre-war Moscow. The celebrated Yar restaurant is now a cinema, tho Strclnya an aero-chemical museum, the Sparrow Hills aro now named the Lenin Hills, the Lyubyanka the Uorjinsky Square; the Nikitskaya Herzen street, and so on. '.There is no public dancing hall except in the new Park of Rest and Culture. Tho Kremlin is closed except to those who obtain special permission; and several churches have been demolished to facilitate traffic. The familiar “ thou ” is seldom heard, for everyone is equal, and the word to Russian ears is suggestive of servility. Letters are addressed with the prefix “Citizen” or “Comrade.” Soldiers may ride in trams and: take seats—an unheard-of thing in former days—and there are other trifling changes which are all to the good._ During my stay in Moscow the skies were dark and sullen. Murmurings of discontent, phrases of foreboding, reached my ears: “Not a fine day this summer,” “Our crops are ruined,” “Bread will be scarce this_winter.” I was rather glad when tho time came to leave and the train steamed out of the station taking me ,to the frontier, where the Soviet officials confiscated nil my Russian money, saying that I could have it hack when I returned!