remembrance
nothing to do with the holocaust
Submitted by antarchi on December 7, 2008 - 01:49Holocaust Memorial Day has nothing to do with the Nazi holocaust. The Holocaust industry has nothing to do with the Nazi holocaust. All it is, is an ideological weapon of Israel and its supporters to immunize Israel and its supporters from criticism. It has nothing to do with the actual event. These people don’t care about the actual event. They don’t care about the survivors. It’s a manipulative public relations device, and I think nobody should have any truck with it. You should stay away from it, you should boycott it, and say that you’re not going to allow the Nazi holocaust to be turned into an ideological club to keep dissenting opinion in line.
Ahmedinejad on the holocaust
Submitted by antarchi on September 27, 2009 - 19:15Some extracts below from Katie Couric's interview with Ahmedinejad on CBS.The whole thing is well worth watching. The first part (not transcribed) deals with the nuclear threat. Available here:
KC Some might say that Iran is the largest sponsor, the biggest... er... perpetrator of state-sponsored and has produced inflammatory rhetoric along the lines that Israel should be blown off the map. Given those things, can you understand the concern the international community may have about Iran, in particular?
AM: ... With respect to Palestine, I've always raised a very clear question. What I'm saying, is that we need to ask ourselves where did the events of WW2 happen? Well the answer is - it happened in Europe. So who killed 60 million people during WW2? It was.. people that belonged to the European governments of the time - some European governments at the time. So - what does this have to do with the Palestinian people? Why do we use the murders of WW2 as a pretext to kill Palestinian people now? So, the questions I ask are clear ones.
mourning
Submitted by antarchi on August 16, 2009 - 19:10I speak for the whole country in mourning the loss of brave, dedicated and professional and patriotic soldiers who have given their lives for our country and in our gratitude to all our armed forces for the service and professionalism they give.
Gordon Brown, in sombre mode.
No, Gordon Brown, I'm afraid you do not speak for me.
Because while I mourn the loss of 201 British lives, I mourn still more the loss of several tens of thousand forgotten and uncounted lives in Afghanistan - most of them destroyed, forgotten and uncounted through our actions, or those of our allies.
- antarchi's blog
- Login to post comments
- Read more
About
Submitted by antarchi on May 6, 2007 - 13:33Antarchia is the private collection and blog of a disenchanted ant. It is made up mostly from 'nuggets' of information taken from books and articles that should be widely known, but aren't. The nuggets have been selected to suit the 21st century attention span, but all connect up to the original sources (the reading of which requires a bit more time and concentration).
The aim in selecting and posting this collection was partly personal: these are bits of information that I needed to remember, and then be able to find again. But there is also a hope... that if only the nuggets were more widely known and remembered then they might shock and wake enough attention spans to serve some purpose.
- See the FAQ for a bit more on the site
- Go to the nuggets page to find out how best to search for them
- Send a message to the ants, or send along your own choice nuggets here. I can always do with more collectors.
antarchi
- Login to post comments
Miliushenkov, Vasily Filippovich
Submitted by antarchi on September 2, 2007 - 01:06Pskov region
23 November, 2006
Could you tell us your date of birth and who your parents and grandparents were, please?
26th April, 1932. My grandparents – I don't remember. Well of course they worked the land. Worked in the fields, cut the hay, cleared the land.
We're interested in the 1930s and 1940s, what do you remember about that period?
Well I was born in 1932. I was 9 years old during the war.
And what do you remember about those years?
Well until the war, we lived a normal life, that's what it seems to me. Earned enough money, we had bread, potatoes – and then the war started.
So there was no problem with famine?
No, none of that.
What about the de-kulakisation and collectivisation?
No – it was in 1935 that people started to join the kolkhoz. I don't know. I didn't see anything else.
So your parents didn't tell you anything about de-kulakisation?
No. We lived in the countryside. There were those smallholdings... and later on they shot them all. Yes, so there was that.
What was the name of your village?
Urdaki.
So you don't remember anything about collectivisation?
I don't remember. I saw real collectivisation only in the cinema. But apart from that, no.
So your parents really told you nothing about it?
Well my parents were kolkhozniki
What about totalitarianism, the Stalin regime? Did that affect your family at all, or maybe someone you knew?
Totalitarianism – no, it didn't.
What do you think about the repression at that time – did you know anything about that?
Well – only about Stalin's repression? There wasn't any of that. We had one person who went to prison – Pavel – and he sang songs about Stalin. They gave him 5 years.
So they gave him 5 years for singing songs about Stalin?
Well – he sang a serenade.
Sort of comical?
Well, yes. Everyone was like that... and then that was it. He wasn't there any more. But that was just before the war. After the war he'd already done his time.
I see. And what do you think about that? You probably know that in other towns there was repression, that people suffered?
I don't know.
Maybe you heard something about it after the war?
During collectivisation, my aunt's husband – he didn't want to join the kolkhoz. I don't know what happened. They took him away and he didn't appear again. Disappeared. Well, that was when the Stalinist repression was.
...
Do you remember anything about the war?
About the war? Well I remember how they took my father off to the town, and then after a while the Germans started to retreat. Then my father came back... then I didn't see him again.
He died, did he?
No – most likely he didn't die.
Where were you during the war?
At home, in the village. Everyone was evacuated – or rather, they left of their own accord, but my mother was sick. There were six of us.
What about the Germans – did they get to your village?
The Germans were here, but they didn't behave particularly badly. I remember they marched for a whole day to get to our village, they reached us.
What was life like during the war?
What was it like? Well there was a famine. Our hens were stolen, the pigs were killed.
Can you tell us what you think now about the repression? Was it necessary?
No, of course not. How could it be necessary. Of course I'm against it.
So you don't think it was justified?
I don't
Do you think it could have been avoided?
Well I don't know – of course it could have been.
How?
So that they didn't take you, you mean?
Well, so that the repression didn't happen at all
You had to keep quiet, say nothing. Then you stayed in one piece.
But lots of people kept quiet, everyone was afraid. What did you think of Stalin himself? Were you afraid of him or did you respect him?
You know, I'll tell you. I served in the army for 3 years during Stalin's time. In the army it was good in those days. Now they kill people. What sort of an army is that.
And what about Stalin?
Of course everyone was afraid of him. When Stalin died, I was still in the army and the Lieutenant came to us and said 'take off your hats, Stalin is dead'.
What was the reaction of most people?
Well most people did react; in the army it was all quite calm. ????????? ????
So there weren't strong feelings in the army?
No, no.
Tell us what you think when you compare life today, and life at that time? Which was better?
Well – what can I say. I'm not used to it yet. Things get better and better. But I didn't agree with it all before.
So you think...?
It's harder now.
Life was easier then?
Of course it was.
Do you think anything has improved?
No. For us, for poor people, it's just got worse. I have a pension of 3,000 roubles: what do you think – that I want to start working again?
What about the deficits before – today there's everything in the shops
Well – there used to be long queues in the shops for kolbasa (salami) – but we queued, didn't we.
And was it not problematic that you couldn't say whatever you liked?
I wasn't prevented then: I always say what I say, and they didn't take me away before, and they don't take me away today.
Can you tell us a bit more about your time in the army?
In the army.
Yes, well what was different – can you tell us that?
In 1961 I joined the army. There was the same work there as on the smallholdings. That's all.
What about school? Can you tell us about that?
I finished my education. Well – we didn't go to school during the war. In 1945 I left school after the 7th year.
When you were in the army, was there such a thing as 'dedovshina' (abuse of younger conscripts)?
When I was in the army, that concept did not exist. I'm amazed by what happens today – there used to be none of that. There were rumours, but nothing like that.
Yes – as far as I know, it appeared in the 1980s. It was already happening when democratisation started.
Yes we call them democrats. What on earth is that then?
After the army what did you do?
I worked at the airport until I retired.
And during the war, since you were in occupied territory, you could have been refused employment – I mean, you might not be trusted
Well yes, they might not employ you.
Were there any particular difficulties?
No, I was employed by the state.
So you think that the state at that time looked after people better, that you had more social security.
Yes. In terms of accommodation, and in terms of schooling – you got a good education. Now, if you fall ill – you go off and die somewhere. What on earth is that.
Do you think that it had an effect on people that the Soviet Union was behind the Iron Curtain, that it was isolated from western society, from European countries?
Well that's what people say. But I don't know.
It didn't really affect society?
No.
What about forbidden literature?
We could get it if we wanted to, we just hid it.
So there was really nothing particularly shocking in your lifetime?
No.
Perhaps one of your acquaintances told you something about the repression?
No. There's not even the kolkhoz now. It's all been divided up and abandoned. The land is empty. Nothing's as it should be.
You think it was better then?
Yes, for me it was better then... But my children think the opposite.
We've forgotten one thing: can you tell us about religion?
Well, you know, at the beginning maybe some people believed in God. But I wasn't baptised and never believed. Some people might have thought there was a God, but no-one did anything or said anything.
So people didn't hide the fact... but were there people who went to church secretly?
No, they didn't go.
Were they allowed to?
Of course – go if you want. They even baptised their children.
What about during the war?
People weren't thinking about church then. We were dying from starvation after the war.
What about – in some places the churches were destroyed, vandalised, or made into dance clubs
I don't know. The church here stood as it has always stood.
Were you in the (communist) party?
No I wasn't... I was in the komsomol.
What else... So in general, your life has been comfortable, and you are glad to have lived much of it in the Soviet Union?
I lived in the Soviet Union and I would be happy to live in it again.
- Login to post comments
Volkova, Ekaterina Ivanovna
Submitted by antarchi on August 16, 2007 - 02:33Pskov Region
We're particularly interested in the 1930s and 1940s
Well – what did we have at that time... there was the Soviet government... we were OK ('zhili')
Did the political situation have any impact on your life?
On my personal life?
(Someone in the background says 'well go on – tell them about the 1930s. Tell them how you worked on the kolkhoz, then you left, why you left)
I was here till 1933, then I left, because there was no-one to do the work. There was grandfather, we didn't have a father, there were 3 of us and we lived here – grandfather, grandmother... up until 1930, even up till 1933. Then Sasha's son, his brother left, the land was no good, and they didn't have enough for a loaf of bread. We weren't too worried about loaves of bread, we lived a very modest life. So anyway, Vika's father left, then my brother left, then I left in 1933. I went off to the town, but you couldn't get registered anywhere, and I didn't really have any official documents from here.
Well I worked as a maid, I worked... I was already 18, had my passport by then and I worked as a housemaid. I had to feed the child, wash nappies – I was 18 years old.
So that's how I managed, then in the summer I arrived here, and the kolkhozes had already been set up. There were 2 kolkhozes and we used to go to the other one, because we'd given up our horse to the kolkhoz and they were making money on our horse, and we had nothing. Grandfather was old, so was grandmother, mama too, and I worked all summer and so did my friends. So we used to go off there. We earned enough over the summer, they still didn't really give us any documents, so we left for the town... Well I worked in the college, a friend fixed that up for me. So I worked from 1934 – 1939, then I got married to one of the students. It was a military college. Then the war... the war. And in 1939 we went to Poland, just when we got married, in 1939 in Poland, my husband was called up. He was an officer. We didn't live in occupied Russia – we were evacuated. My husband was sent from one place to another – he was a soldier, you see. Then I came back home – no, not home, I forgot. I came back to where we'd lived the first time, to the Kirov region. Then I had a son, and we were evacuated with my son, then he died. And my husband came back from the hospital, and we had to get ready to go again. Yes, I mean my son had died, we had to work. All young people worked then, all of them, and no-one – no, everyone worked, and I had to. And I had just... well I finished my course and worked. I worked for 3 years, it was all like that... and then life...
Did you know anything about the repression?
What?
Did you know about repression?
Me – no, nothing.
It didn't affect you?
Not us, no. We weren't aware of that, of repression. But we were, as people say, we were a hard working family, we were, like they say, a peasant family. I grew up in a peasant family... I lived here, on this plot of land, like they say, we had a house. The Germans were here, but we weren't aware of repression, not in any way.
What happened with religion at that time?
Religion was our life then, up intil 1930. And the school was very good, and the teachers... All young people went to evening service in the church, particularly on the big festivals. Then we sang in the choir, there were nuns there. They sang, and we did, the young people. We had robes and white shawls. Then they destroyed the monastery, I don't know who did it, how it was done. But some of the nuns stayed, those who were locals... there was even... my grandmother's sister, Tatiana, then there was Danilova – you know, the locals. And the nuns taught us, we used to get together. There weren't any clubs, we used to get together .. one day in our house, next day in the neighbour's, and we learnt from them. They didn't teach us anything bad – they taught us how to sow, needlework.
So the girls and I, we were taught how to iron, to sow ???????, to knit – that was all the nuns, they were good with their hands. And there was a little house, it's not there now, and we used to go over there. That's what they did, so it was fine, we didn't see anything we shouldn't. True – we didn't get a pension, because new people came into power... Mama didn't get one, although there were 3 of us. My brother was 4, second brother was 2, then I was born. Papa was at the front. So I grew up with grandmother, grandmother, and Mama, and we worked at home. We had our own bit of land, and we worked right from when we were tiny. Whatever we could do.
So you did what you could. That was what it was like, like that. Then later on a completely different life began.
And what do you think has changed for the better, or for the worse?
I don't know – it didn't really concern me. It doesn't concern me... we live, how we live, and I'm old enough now for nothing really to matter. But you know, we didn't used to drive around in cars, now people go everywhere in cars. I think that's bad – we went everywhere by foot, we walked everywhere. Someone came to see me and he starts saying ooh Aunt Katya! You walked to school! And I say, yes, I walked to school, we all used to walk, everything by foot. Babushka lived near the Serebryanka, Mama used to walk 20 kilometres to see her. Without any difficulty we used to walk, we didn't even feel it. Maybe we were stronger then, people now are much weaker, not so tough.
(laughing) Yes. And can you tell us about an important event in your life?
Well .. what was important for me. An important event happened during the war. My husband was an officer and I used to travel with him. But then I had a child and he was sent off to the front, to Poland. Then the war started, and I didn't hear anything from him at all, not for 3 years. He didn't know where I was and I didn't know where he was. Then in 1943, my little boy had already died, and I'd finished studying, because I had to work of course. I'd been evacuated, I had nothing for my feet, no shoes – well, boots I had, and a coat. I was an evacuee with my child and we had one suitcase, nothing at all apart from that. And then suddenly they called me from the hospital, I was the caretaker, I remember that day – it was Red Army Day. And they called me, and I left the house, where we lived in a flat. And I asked 'what's happened... what's happened to my husband?' I didn't know anything, you see. And she said 'It's not about your husband – it's your husband!' And I burst into tears. That was a big event.
And I ran, I said 'Aleksandr – Sasha!' because we hadn't know anything about each other, not for 3 years. It had been such a terrible war – and then this... this happened. I'm feeling all nervous from this ... everyone asked me what's happened? What happened? Has there been a death? No, no – not a death... my husband, they say. So what are you crying for! What am I crying for? It's all so unexpected. I hadn't even imagined it.
So there you are. There's an event. We met, and we lived together for 63 years.
What helped you to get through the difficult patches? How did you manage?
What helped me – that we need to live, need to live, need to work. That's how I managed. We didn't chase after new clothes. We wore what there was.
Thank you very much
- Login to post comments

