Em A casa dos mortos, o historiador Daniel Beer demonstra como o exílio siberiano havia sido pensado não só como repositório de criminosos comuns e dissidentes políticos, mas também como um projeto de colonização de vastos territórios. Na prática, foi enviado ao interior da região um exército de miseráveis e vagabundos irrecuperáveis, que sobreviviam mendigando e roubando dos verdadeiros colonizadores, os camponeses siberianos. Entre os degredados havia também gerações de revolucionários de grandes e pequenas cidades da Rússia europeia e da Polônia. A Sibéria se tornou um gigantesco laboratório da revolução, e o exílio, um rito de passagem para homens e mulheres que um dia governariam a Rússia. As biografias e os escritos de uns poucos luminares dominam a memória histórica do exílio siberiano antes da Revolução Russa. Alguns deles, como Fiódor Dostoiévski e Vladímir Lênin, passaram pelo desterro; outros, como Anton Tchékhov e Liev Tolstói, produziram retratos expressivos da vida dos condenados na Sibéria em reportagens e textos ficcionais. Para cada radical banido, milhares de criminosos comuns e suas famílias foram expulsos para o esquecimento na Sibéria. Sua sorte só sobrevive em relatórios policiais, petições, atas de julgamentos e correspondência oficial que foram compilados e retidos pelo Estado policial cada vez mais desenvolvido e sofisticado. Por meio desses documentos, Daniel Beer resgata as experiências de revolucionários e criminosos comuns na Sibéria, desde a coroação de Alexandre I, em 1801, à abdicação de Nicolau II, em 1917.
“Uma obra-prima […] A origem de muitas das patologias da Rússia moderna pode ser atribuída ao grande experimento tsarista [do exílio siberiano] — suas tensões, seus traumas e seu abjeto fracasso.” — The Economist
“Beer garimpou uma quantidade impressionante de material […] Desse poderoso manancial emerge uma história com riqueza de detalhes que dá vida e clareza ao terror comumente associado ao nome ‘Sibéria’.” — The New York Times Book Review
Daniel Beer (born 1973) is Reader in Modern European history at Royal Holloway, University of London. His book, The House of the Dead, won the 2017 Cundill History Prize and was shortlisted for the Wolfson History Prize.
"Siberia's prisons also proved indispensable weapons in the government's campaign to crush the 1905 Revolution, but they were a double edged sword. Crammed with embittered and hostile revolutionaries, they became not simply places of containment and punishment but also incubators of the vengeful, implacable hatred that would erupt across the empire in 1917." An unflinching review of the Tsarist dream of convict exile and colonisation of the Siberian wastes, the attempted exploitation of the regions natural and mineral resources and the reason it failed and ultimately turned on itself. The shift from criminal to political exile following the Decemberist and Polish revolts, the conditions faced by exiles (often dependant on status rather than magnitude of the crime) and the increasingly repressionary methods the autocracy used against its subjects which ultimately led to the creation of a major revolutionary force are documented, with the ultimate irony that while political exile was briefly outlawed by the Bolsheviks it was quickly reinstated as a state repressionary measure. An important book, filling in a gap in understanding Russian history and its progression toward the October Revolution. Highly recommended.
Daniel Beer's The House of the Dead recounts the brutal policy of exile in late Tsarist Russia. Taking his title from Dostoyevsky's autobiographical novel about his time in Siberia, Beer explores how the system of Katorga gradually developed through the 18th and 19th Centuries, with an informal series of prison camps, forced labor and distant settlements in the forbidding, distant climates of Siberia and the Russian Far East. The policy served multiple purposes in allowing the government to forcibly settle and develop their Far Eastern possessions (displacing the Indigenous population in the process), but mostly served as (in the words of one Tsarist official) "a deep sack into which we tossed our social sins" - criminals, dissidents, failed rebels and general malcontents all found themselves uprooted and forced into a forbidding new climate. From the failed Decembrist rebels to Polish nationalists, to intellectuals like Dostoyevsky and Alexander Radischev, to Bolsheviks Lenin, Trotsky and Stalin, the system encompassed a massive roster of the Russian Empire's discontented. While not as systematic as the Soviet gulags, Katorga was arbitrary in its cruelties: some exiles enjoyed relatively stable, undisturbed lives, while others were enslaved to work mines and build roads, brutalized by overseers or preyed upon by bandits. Sporadic rebellions, outbreaks of crime and a general disconnect from Moscow caused the region to become "a hothouse of revolution"; turns out, gathering radicals together in isolation while subjecting them to random violence wasn't the best policy for reform. Eventually, exposes by writers both foreign (George Kennan, uncle of the famous diplomat) and domestic (Anton Chekhov, whose writings on the Sakhalin Island penal colony caused it to be shut down) caused Nicholas II to curb the program's worst excesses - but Katorga continued until the Revolution of 1917. Of course, Siberia enjoyed only the briefest respite, as the Romanovs' successors erected a similar, even more repressive system in its place. Not light reading, but Beer assures that readers won't completely despair by studding the narrative with pen portraits and stirring quotations from Siberia's exiles, who struggled to retain personal identity and beliefs in the face of brutality.
I think this would be a good read even if you aren't a Russian history buff like me. If you are, it's amazing. The author has synthesized a massive amount of historical research into an epic account of centuries of exile and suffering in the great "prison without a roof." Chapters that provide a broad overview alternate with chapters that focus on the moving personal stories of particular individuals or groups. Some, such as the Decembrists and Dostoevsky, are famous; others might have been forgotten but for the diaries and letters they managed to leave behind to fill a history such as this one.
This is essential reading for understanding much of 19th, 20th and, sadly, 21st century russian life, history, and politics.
Apart from the horrors of the penal system coupled with the terrible ordeal of prisoners getting to their place of exile (often a very lengthy trip), there is the place of exile as well: it may be a mine, or a small siberian town set in the middle of the taiga or an icy wasteland. Or on sakhalin island. There is cruelty on the part of every Tsar (not that only saints were convicted or punished administratively by this or that city in european russia), governor, warden, and guard. Yet there are also stories of those who, as today, persisted in living or in facing down authority (often at the price of their lives).
In truth, there are probably half a dozen stories in here that would reward elaboration, whether they be about polish nobility who were sentenced to exile but kept escaping, the criminal element that terrorized the few roads, waterways and villages, or the women who went to join their husbands despite pressure not to. All classes were sent to siberia to be rehabilitated and to add coin to the realm by working on the land, or under it; a mad, centralist impulse to ship problem people elsewhere only served to disperse anti-monarchist ideas to areas of russia that would not have otherwise heard about them.
Daniel Beer has a good style and the material is compelling.
A very revealing and engaging book by Mr. Beer. The way he hits on the five senses with describing the conditions in Siberia during the 19th century are astonishing, stomach turning, and plain depressing. The corruption, incompetence, and utter disregard for human life by the Tsars and their ministers made the problems worse and were (part of) the reason for the 1917 Revolution, which ironically enough, continued the use of Siberia as a prison colony after denouncing it under the Romanov’s. Mr. Beer does a wonderful job in spelling all of this in this masterpiece of a book. The only problem I have with the book is the way that the timeline runs in this book. While it is linear to a degree, the book tends to jump in gaps of 20, 30, even 40 years in the same chapter, which can make keeping track of all the names and events a bit confusing. Otherwise, great book and thoughtful piece of history.
This book wasn't bad, but I found it a bit of a slog. Part of the problem was that there was no particular through-line being followed (no one person's life, or story of a single historical incident, etc.) and so it felt disjointed at times. It also wasn't particularly chronological which would have helped make it easier to follow. Again, it wasn't bad, I just had no trouble putting it down and was never particularly excited to start it again.
I first heard about this book while reading a couple of histories about the Romanov dynasty and its end in WWI and the Russian Revolutions of 1917. This is a book about the Romanov system of internal exile to Siberia, especially from 1800 until the beginning of WW1. Beer takes his title from Dostoevsky's autobiographical novel of his time in Siberian prisons. In terms of sources, Beer makes good use of a vast array of source materials that have been made available in Russia in recent decades. The book thus constitutes a general history of the exile program in its last century. For those who do not realize the continuity between the Tsarist prisons and the Gulag, readers might with to follow this book up with Anne Applebaum's superb history of the Gulag that was published a few years ago or Wachsmann's 2015 book on the Nazi concentration camp system.
The book is generally well written and interesting, but the topic is a grim one. How to hold the reader through over a hundred years of brutality and grimness is no mean feat. Beer organizes the book around a set of focal points/events over the course of the period. The first is the experiences of the Decembrists (which is a highlight of the book). Later chapters focus on subsequent generations of exiles and how their experiences changed, including revolutionary periods after 1948, the Polish rebellion of 1863, the rebirth of revolutionary and anarchist movements in the 1880s and 1890s, the revolution of 1905, and the events leading up to 1914. Beer does discuss the continuity with the Bolshevik system, but that is really another story. Beer also makes good use of the accounts of some of the more famous visitors to Siberia, in particular Dostoevsky and Chekhov, who provided detailed notes of his visit to Sakhalin Island. It is hard to miss when making use of observers like that.
Several themes are noteworthy in the book. The first is the tension between an imperial/colonial view of Siberia as a potential zone for economic development and its use as a prison without a roof. A related issue is the role of technology and evolving media, which made Siberia less remote and more connected and thus made the Siberian system seem anachronistic and helped to alienate the educated classes both in Russia and in Europe and America. Perhaps the major theme is the corruption inherent in the foundation of the system of autocratic control and which was made much worse but the extended bureaucratic nature of the Tsarist regime. Beer is most effective in showing how the system not only failed to stem political unrest and revolution but actually ended up serving as a laboratory for revolution that provided training, hardening, and stature for the Bolsheviks.
It is really fascinating to read this with the internet handy. Beer makes a number a points by referencing paintings from the period that diepict the plight of the exiles or by discussing the particular towns in which various exiles served their time. The paintings can be looked up on the web. You can even book a trip on the Trans-Siberian Railroad or see a trip advisor page for where Lenin was exiled. (There are still only a few sights to see there.)
Overall, this was a good book and a fine supporting history for the Romanovs.
Simply, a masterpiece of 'forensic scholarship'. (No point in regurgitating summaries posted; words fail - at least, my words fail. Yet another case of [human] 'good intentions' producing [human] unintended consequences, but on a tragically huge scale.)
This is a rough read. While meticulously researched and offering broad information punctuated with stories of individuals' experiences, the book is a history where cruelty, violence, incompetence, suffering, and the creation of criminality for survival are central points. The pre-Gulag penal system of Russia was extreme in its punishment--beyond flogging or imprisonment were long treks through and attempted survival in unbearable weather conditions, unsafe work, poverty, starvation, disease, unsanitary conditions, sex exploitation and rape, the necessity to be a criminal and contend with criminals to survive, and other horrors. The torture was not only physical--it was geographical, climatic, temporal, psychological, and sociological. The entire system, from start to finish, was intended to break people, and it punished those who didn't break with more suffering. Criminals became harder and more dangerous, and the unfeeling used their apathy to survive. Those who maintained their humanity, like the women passed around settlements, had to learn to give it up in order to get by. In the end, the only freedom some of those exiled to Siberia could find was in their own death--in taking their own lives, the prevented the state from being able to do so.
This book is grim and grisly, but the information within goes a long way into setting up the foundation for the idea of Soviet Gulag and explains how the mythos of Siberia as a harsh and unforgiving place remains in the cultural consciousness.
Woohoo! I feel so accomplished for finishing this book, which took me an unusually long time (1 week) to read because it was so packed with information. Most of it was very interesting, but it could FEEL like a slog on occasion.
This is an amazingly detailed and exhaustively researched look at the system of Siberian exile from the early 19th century up until the Bolshevik revolution. The author tackles this immense topic by separating each chapter into different periods of time as well as different aspects of exile. He makes the important distinction between those sentenced to penal labor and exile and the physical and emotional punishments they endured. Throughout the book, I couldn't help reflecting on how shortsighted, vindictive, and ineffective this system was. There was very little record keeping to speak of (hardened criminals would often bully, coerce, or kill a fellow traveller to assume their identity and a lesser sentence), hardened criminals were often housed with simple vagrants, women were encouraged to join their husbands and then were often raped or forced into prostitution, and political prisoners were often housed together which only served to spread revolutionary ideas deeper into the countries interior among its peasants. If all this sounds haphazard and senseless, its because it was. Siberian exile became a tool of repression for a series of increasingly paranoid Tsars, as well as local communities who had the power to condemn their fellow citizens to exile due to the national government's inability to adequately police all of its vast territory and thus ceded such powers to local authorities. When the revolution arrived in 1917 and the jails were opened, the revolution had ready access to a large number of hardened political prisoners ready to be loosed on the old order. This is certainly not an easy read. It is filled with grim statistics and anecdotes that are at best, unsettling. But it remains an important book nonetheless.
A very good look at exile to Siberia under the Tsars. He briefly discusses Siberia after the revolution but I did wonder if he's planning a book about it. It's not as easy a subject as I imagined--There was not one kind of exile and there was not one kind of person exiled. Different classes often (though not always) got treated differently for example. People were also differentiated by what part of Siberia they were sent to--climate and labor being the main differentiators. Were they sent as laborers? If so, where? Were they farmers? Miners? An interesting and well-researched book.
The information is good. The presentation needs some work. Using some percentages when comparing the amounts of prisoners instead of the large raw numbers would have made the information easier to digest. The constant barage of names was also overwhelming. It must be difficult to condense the material when focusing on such a large subject it would have made a larger impact to do so.
There were many times my eyes glazed over with the amount of names and numbers given in a short space of time.
well written, exhaustively researched (I am a worthy judge of that?). Now I would like to read Dostoevsky's 'Notes from the House of the Dead'. (I've read 'The Idiot', a surprisingly humorous book, even if it is a grim humor, Dostoevsky is an author deserving of his accolades). I've just ordered Tolstoy's Resurrection (another book frequently referred).
The brutality never ends - this sentence by Beer (paraphrased) sums it up, 'By the end of the nineteenth century, Imperial Russia was a society devouring itself'. Knowing that Stalin took the gulags and the expediency of "devouring" his own people to a whole new level, with his victims numbering in the millions, not just in the hundreds of thousands - makes the pages heavy reading. Maybe the Russians learned cruelty only too well from their years of oppression under the Mongols. Then again, most every culture that remains on earth has a history of barbarity. Scratch the surface and find a blood lust that still remains. Of our own sordid past, ours is a country conceived in slavery, a government predicted on the God-given right of white people to own black people. And to this day that overt racism persists as strong as ever (even if deodorized). Which brings up another observation forwarded by Beer, 'reform only happens when backed by the threat of violence'. I am becoming ever more convinced of that grim truth.
The tsar's ideology - (1) Autocracy (is this where we are heading, the strongman style of government?) - (2) Orthodoxy (too many would happily knock down the wall between church and state, the "church" as defined by white evangelicals) - (3) A national spirit (with us, it is the closely held belief that we white people are truly exceptional, chosen by God to rule over all lessor creatures)
One of the most disturbing traits of the Republican party is their demagoguery of torture - to force confessions, to find the Truth, when, in fact, it does everything but. The Russian tsars used it with gusto. To be arrested was to be guilty. Our Godly people know how well it works in hunting witches.
There's much more - the whole bit about General Cuckoo's Army, i.e., the Law of Unintended Results was a subject I hadn't previously given much thought to. The tsar felt constrained in the handling of young revolutionaries from the nobility - so he let them live and then - from the remote settlements of Siberia they built a fanatical base for revolution. Stalin did not have to deal with such qualms. He murdered everyone. Full circle - back to the gentle mercies of Genghis Khan.
The exiles were marched in chains over 1,000 miles - usually may more than 1,000. This occurred at roughly the same time as coffles of African slaves were being forced marched from the east coast seaports to the southern cotton fields, at roughly the same distance. We needn't point fingers as much as look in the mirror.
Page 231, "...peasant culture across the Russian Empire was very violent." The tsar's penal system took brutal people and further brutalized them. Hitler was clueless. The state's primary interest was with political prisoners, the peasants had to deal with violent criminals as best they could. Oftentimes the hard working settlers were on their own. Siberia at the end of the nineteenth century was in a virtual civil war. The escaped exiles and vagabonds would gang up and terrorize the isolated farms and villages. Arson was a common weapon. (very reminiscent of the social dynamics as spelled out in the book, Wisconsin Death Trip, a 1973 non-fiction book by Michael Lesy wherein barn burning was a plague) The native tribes of Gilyaks and Buryats of eastern Siberia became skilled trackers and killers of the vagabond bandits (pg 234).
Verbluffend werk van een grote eruditie. Vooral als voorstudie van de grote revolutie. De onderdrukking van het tsaristische regime creëerde in zekere zin niet alleen een oppositie maar ook een klassenstrijd. De straf ging verder dan alleen maar straf, het moest ook vernedering zijn, onderwerping, knechting in de ouderwetse zin van het woord. Men moest kruipen voor genade. Mooi verbeeld in het symbolische breken van zwaarden over het hoofd van veroordeelden. Het aparte hoofdstuk over Dostojevski was ook fijn. Heel mooi verweven is ook de reactie van de buitenlandse opinie op het regime. En Tsjechovs bezoek aan Sachalin. Zet een hoop dingen in perspectief. Het systeem was gewoon verrot, al vanaf het begin. Siberië was de kweekvijver voor revolutie en een maatschappij brede haat van de macht. Stel je voor dat je voor je straf begint nog 2 jaar te voet moet marcheren, soms in voetijzers of in het beste geval in een wrakkige houten kar. Corrupte bewakers, volstrekte willekeur en ambtelijke onmacht en je snapt het plaatje. De standaard reactie op veel vergrijpen was hele lange tijd gewoon hup verbanning. Een beetje hetzelfde als de harten koningin uit Alice die bij het minste of geringste roept: ''off with their heads.''
I have never really read much about Siberia, and how the Russians used its vast expanse.
The sheer brutality used on offenders by the Russians is almost too much to bear, and I use "offender" as a generic term. The powers that be could find something to make almost everyone an "offender." Beating and mutilating people before exiling them to Siberia was routine. The penal colonies were expected to thrive and populate the area so that the rich mines could be tapped for wealth. Ugh.
Whoops. This sounds like something I wanted to read, but it was not. No offense intended to Beer at all - it seems very well-researched and informative, if this is the kind of thing you want information about.
Covering the majority of the nineteenth century, House of the Dead contends with the system of Serbian exile that occured under the Tsarist regime - particularly Nicholas I, Alexander II, Alexander III and Nicholas II. The book is relatively chronological - each chapter covers a different theme though, like punishment, women and Sekhalin island so sometimes there is a bit of overlap. Otherwise, it flows seamlessly, revisiting previous points and chapters from a different perspective.
I picked up a lot from this book, particularly regarding the Decembrists revolt. It was something that we only briefly referred to in A Level History so it was nice to come back around to that - the set, the plot and the consequences - as well as the lasting impact that this revolt had on Russian society.
Additionally, I think the topic at hand was well chosen. The expanse of Siberia made for a compelling topic, particularly in a breadth view. The author darted around, from year to year, penal outpost to penal outpost. At points, it is hard to comprehend, given the scale of the piece, and the bleakness of it all. But ultimately, I think that is what lends to its interest - the scale of the operations is absolutely fascinating, the 'Russianess' of it all.
A few critiques. It did end a bit fuzzily. We meandered from 1890s, to the 1905 revolution before promptly ending, with a brief afterword about the spiritual successor, the GULAG. I think it would have been nice to have a firmer ending. Like what happened to all those people in exile when they were granted clemency by the Provisional Government?
Another critique - the maps were useful but it was very confusing at times, trying to keep track of all these village and labour camp names. Maybe that's partly a language problem? Russia isn't the most intuitive for English speakers so it can all blur into one. Nonetheless, there were a lot of facts, names and dates being thrown out. That combined with the broad breadth of study made it hard to follow at points.
All in all, a very compelling and well written book, occupying a spot between academic and popular history that makes for insightful reading, particularly for those already familiar with aspects of Russian history.
This is an extraordinary book in many ways. In documenting the colossal waste of human life and resources that the Romanov regime expended in banishing social and political undesirables to the farthest and most remote reaches of the Russian Empire, it serves in some respects as a pre-revolutionary companion piece to Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn's The Gulag Archipelago 1918-1956, and demonstrates that while Tsarist exile lacked the industrial scale and bureaucracy of the Stalinist Gulag, it was every bit as arbitrary, brutal and dehumanising, showing that the genesis of one of the greatest of humanity's scars upon the social and political landscape of the twentieth century was a seed planted in the period of Russian imperial expansion in the seventeenth century.
But the book also utilises the institution of Siberian exile as a prism through which to view the development of the Russian Empire and Romanov autocracy, and the real and perceived internal threats thereto. We are introduced to Polish nationalists seeking the independence of their country from rule by Saint Petersburg, the Decembrist rebels with their aims of a constitutional monarchy and the abolition of serfdom, the reformist Petrashevsky Circle, whose most notable member was Fyodor Dostoyevsky, a host of vagrants and recidivist petty criminals, and, latterly, the confirmed revolutionaries who would finally succeed in tearing down the Tsarist edifice in 1917. While the aims of each of these groups, where they had specific aims, were varied, all represented a challenge to the divinely ordained authority of the Romanov Tsars. It is hard to disagree with the books closing assertion, that it was a supreme historical irony that resulted in a system designed to eliminate opposition to the ancien régime fomenting the very revolutionaries who would overthrow it, and that the last Tsar, Nicholas II would die an ignominious death at the hands of Bolshevik executioners in Yekaterinburg on the edge of Siberia.
A fairly unremitting litany of the tsarist atrocious program of exiling political and criminal miscreants to Siberia during the 19th century. For the most part it's a complete, depressing and repetitive catalog of all the ways the exiles could be mistreated, and most assuredly there were many.... There are a few interesting stories about the cases of particular individuals; they were a welcome relief from the endless list of statistics. I really don't think the book improved by listing what seemed to be every possible example the author could find; if it had been 150 pages shorter the point would have been made and the book more readable (and bearable). On the positive side, despite the deluge of despair, THOTD provides, almost as an aside, a good history of Russia during that period, as well as a brief bridge to the post-Bolshevik period. There's irony here; horrific as the conditions were in the 19th century under the stars, there were few actual executions of Siberian prisoners (although they died in the thousands from natural causes and torture), the prisoners often were able to file petitions with the government and otherwise call attention to their plight, and prisoners sometimes actually completed their sentences and were released. When the communists, outraged by the tsarist punishment system and other abuses, came to power in 1917, they quickly reinstituted the whole system for their own benefit, but went even further to create the infamous gulag archipelago, which brutally eliminated any trace of humanity the prior prison system may have contained. Of course, for the communists, it was all right; after all, they had a good cause. No doubt a good part of the gulag survives today, which is just another reason not to trust or accept the current Russian government.
Beer looks at the Siberian exile of the Russian Empire, which reached its peak during the 19th century. With emphasis on specific groups (the Decembrists of the 1820s, the Polish revolutionaries of the 1830s and 1860s, the late-century revolutionaries), he describes how the system was poorly-run for nearly its entire existence, and largely failed to achieve any of its goals (either to imprison convicts, or to develop the sparsely-populated Siberian wilderness). He also shows the brutal reality of life for the exiles, going into intense detail, and shows that it was a harsh life for the hundreds of thousands who were sent there during this period. A fascinating and engaging read, it brings to life one of the worst aspects of the Russian Empire.
Informative. Appeared to be quite thorough. I must admit I skimmed the last 100 pgs or so in a bid to finish it. There weren't quite as many personal stories as I had anticipated. I feel more informed about the different rebellion movements against the Tsarist regime particularly about the Decembrists and the different Polish rebellions. I'm glad I read it.
I've realized I knew very little about Siberia and its history. This book has made me want to read more. It was very interesting and I enjoyed the paintings they had in it as well.
Also I can't believe they banished a bell at one point.
Many countries have implemented exile systems in history. China has been in use from the Qin and Han Dynasties to the Qing Dynasty, and the Lingnan, Northwest, Northeast and other places are full of people's footprints; the United Kingdom has transported felons to the United States or Australia since the 16th century; Caledonia has set up exiles; Portuguese and Greek political prisoners will be assigned to African colonies or some islands in the Aegean Sea... The exile of criminals to remote and wild areas is not only a punishment, but also can lead to local cultivation. This is the original intention and common ground of all exile systems. However, in addition to the above characteristics, the exile system of Tsarist Russia also has specific content and significance, which greatly affected the political stability and historical process of this country.
British historian Daniel Beer's book "Dead House: Siberian Exile System under the Tsar's Reign" is a comprehensive study of the Russian exile system. "This book uses a large number of previously unknown first-hand materials in the European part of Russia and the Siberian Archives. It tells the story of Tsarist Russia struggling to manage its terrible penal colony and the significant influence of Siberia on the political power of the modern world." , This work also embodies in-depth thinking on the country's rule, group consciousness, and the good and evil of human nature. This is an unforgettable historical memory, and it is also a perpetual question that tears the soul apart.
1. Siberian colonial strategy promoted by national forces
Siberia was used as a place of exile. The "territorial aggregation" conquest plan started at the end of the 16th century in order to fill the power vacuum created by the decline of the Mongolian Golden Horde. The author said that it was during Russia's conquest and colonization of the eastern part of the continent that we could see the origin of the exile system. Russia's rapid expansion was driven by Moscow's rapidly growing military strength, logistical capabilities, and administrative perfection. Siberia is sparsely populated and requires a large amount of manpower to develop. Siberia is also naturally equipped to become a "big prison without a roof" due to its long cold winter, violent winds, dense forests, and isolated environment. Siberia is the most suitable place of exile: punishment and colonization are intertwined.
However, the economic purpose of the Siberian exile system was not so clear at first. The early migrants were roughly equivalent to criminal offenders serving hard labor. In the era of Peter the Great (1672-1725), the government used criminals as unpaid labor on a large scale and built a large number of infrastructures, including a road connecting Moscow and Siberia. Some villages and post stations were built along the way, as well as some detention stations for the relief of missions and the rest of the displaced people, making large-scale exiles possible. In the middle of the 18th century, death row was exiled to Siberia for life instead of capital punishment. During this period, the rising wave of revolution in Europe also affected the tyrannical rule of Tsarist Russia. One of the ways the tsarist government dealt with was to resort to "administrative exile" and exile a large number of opponents from the Caucasus, Olon, Siberia and other places. In addition, the government also allows the governor, ministers of justice, officials at all levels, and even villages, towns, merchants, and serf owners to expel "misconductors", which makes the Siberian population...