Long, academic sentences. Hugely important book. It has a counterpart in German by Robert Kindler, who, like Sarah Cameron in 2016 prior to this book, wrote a chapter for a 2011 collective publication prior to his 2014 book "Stalins Nomaden", however, with a different focus. Her focus, back in 2016 in "Communism and Hunger", was to outline new research questions, some of which she came to answer in this book. The purpose of that collective publication was to create a wider comparative framework for understanding famine under planned and collectivised economies.
There is an argument to be made --because you will not find it in S. Cameron's book-- that the concept of (marxist) communism itself is inextricable with the famines it produces. The ideology identifies traits in human nature as "bourgeois", perpetuating class war with the weapons that only complete domination could bring, namely withholding food to coerce, punish, torture and subjugate. Even working for the government didn't secure food, at times. Sometimes, however, food was used as a carrot as well as a stick, enabling government officials, party cadres, to privilege individuals willing to conform, cooperate, do their bidding, etc.; yet many things prevented such a mechanism from saving the millions of lives lost. First of all, many did not have any favour to return and, on the other hand, when one was labeled a saboteur, or ones village or district was blacklisted, for not working hard enough for sometimes unrealistic quotas, or perceived disobedience/lack of enthusiasm for the bright future, it had murderous consequences without anything that could be done about it. So this is how many chose to flee -- into the cities, or, simply, out of the country, leaving behind "socialism in one country" (or, later, the socialist camp).
S. Cameron is strong on the refugee crisis (the "Barefooted flight") and the government's responses. Closing borders (before the same happened for the Ukraine), chasing down and murdering unarmed refugees, mostly from the lowest social standing, in their thousands, especially at the eastern border with China, triggering a diplomatic crisis.
[I’m still in the process of contrasting secondary sources & making notes]
I wrote a children's story/simplified short story, inspired by the “dry” facts about different types of soil (earlier in the book), wanting to put a human face to it. I may resume the story with a group of fleeing Kazakhs arriving and settling in China, living through "Land Reform" (on my list is the book "Land Wars" by Brian DeMaire, Lucien Bianco's "Jacqueries et Révolutions dans la Chine du XXème siècle" and I'm currently reading "How the Red Sun Rose" by Gao Hua).
A Farmer and his Family: An Experience
An enthusiastic farmer and his family decided to plot a piece of land in the middle of nowhere within the vast country of Soviet Kazakhstan. Other farmers were already doing well in different parts of the country due to fertile soils with good, nitrogen-rich humus, though the weather could be increasingly dry and successive hot, cloudless days would sometimes evaporate all the rain. There were people who settled down on neighbouring plots and started cultivating the land. Some were amateurs and would gladly receive help from others. The whole family was involved. Soon the first sprouts were appearing within some of the neighbouring plots; and the first plants. In a few days, he thought, mine will sprout too. A little hut, which they obtained through the help of a party cadre they knew, that had provided for the fees, was their dwelling. A well organised effort to house and settle even the nomadic tribes was on its way in the whole country. The future looked bright like the sun.
But the crops did not come in a few days, and some that came after weeks were stunted in their growth. A frown crept onto the farmer’s face and a furrow buried itself into his forehead, the more the weeks passed by. He knew not whence his ill luck had come. He tried to rejoice at the luck of some of his neighbours and at the birth of a daughter, which reassured him that the most important kind of fertility was not amiss. If he did not have close ties to many of the neighbours, he had some, one of whom produced an awesome yield; but this did not do much to reassure him, because he knew how many had had similar results to his and would definitely support the most fortunate of his friends in distributing his share to families even less fortunate than his own.
It was said that there were different types of soil. The more fertile were: chernozem (or black earth) and chestnut, a soil that didn’t tolerate as much intensive plowing; the lesser, solonchak and solonetz, were both patchy, encumbered by mineral deposits. But such details did not preoccupy the minds of anyone outside of specialist circles, and the party was discouraging them being mentioned in political discussions. Matters of climate did not contribute to positive change, it was thought, for who wants to dwell on slow climatic structures of nature that had not been able to justify the way society had been organised in the past, for so many centuries? What the government instead did was to demand from the farmers to give up their harvest to distribute it among those that did not produce food themselves, in the cities. Many that had been unfortunate, like our farmer, were hopeless, since they could barely provide for themselves and had to provide with produce for others. His family was one of the first to go without food for several days, until they were helped out by friends, who were limited in their generosity, because they in turn had much of their agricultural yields taken away by the state.
Without food, generosity also did not last forever: “Everyone was now preoccupied by getting something to eat for the following day—or that same day, or that very moment, to relieve their hunger pangs. Even the kindest-hearted people and closest friends and relatives could no longer help one another out.”*
By the end of the year half of the families, as far as the eye could see, had died of hunger, and many had fled.
*Mukhamet Shayakhmetov in his memoirs, “Silent Steppe”, 163, quoted by Cameron.