#Anastas Mikoyan

[thespoliarium]

The Death of Stalin, but the poster is... Barbie?!

[severe-intense-gaze]

Nik & Mik!!!!

@soviet-space-ace @thespoliarium

[soviet-space-ace]

Why you should watch the fever dream that is Gray Wolves/Серые Волки (1993):

• A film score that sounds like it’s from an Electric Needle Room song

• Scuba diving assassins

• A car chase involving an early 60’s Soviet car and some sort of military truck (both vehicles explode).

• Two characters whose only purpose seems to be to deliver a tape recording, and get killed in the process (they also spend a good deal of their on-screen time almost completely nude).

• Prolonged eye contact with a wolf.

• Complaining about how Sweden is too perfect and makes other countries look bad.

• Anastas Mikoyan in a bathrobe

And did I mention this was a movie about Nikita Khrushchev’s removal from office as leader of the Soviet Union?

[smolpebble]

From the memoirs of Anastas Mikoyan - Soviet statesman

[commiearabgirll]

Hating a man that's been dead since before my parents were born.

[thespoliarium]

eat well, stepan

just found out that stepan mikoyan played the role of his father for 2-3 movies 😭 HE WASNT SPEAKING EITHER

SCREAMING did they just have him stand there in the background. he does look like his dad tho like...you could do a lot worse!

[reddest-flower]

Cuba broke through its colonial domination into freedom. From the mountains of the Sierra Maestra and from the cities came the torrential power of the people against the US-backed dictator Fulgencio Batista. ‘The revolution is made in the midst of danger’, said Fidel Castro as he led his band of peasant-soldiers from the hills into the cities. They had triumphed against remarkable odds. Quickly, the revolutionaries passed a series of decrees – just as the Soviets had – to draw the key classes to their side. To draw in the urban Cubans, the revolutionaries cut rents by half – sending a strong signal to the bourgeoisie that they had a different class outlook. Then, the revolutionaries took on the United States, whose government held a monopoly over services to the island. Telephone and electrical companies – all American – were told to reduce their rates immediately. Then, on May 17, 1959, the Cuban government passed its agrarian reform – the keystone of the revolutionary process. Land holdings would be restricted so that no large landowners could dominate the landscape and so that the US sugar industry could not strangle the hopes of the island. The most radical part of the reform was not the land ceiling itself, but the logic that agrarian reform would transform the stagnation of the Cuban economy and its dependence upon the United States. The law clearly stated that, from a socialist standpoint,

«The agrarian reform has two principal objectives: (a) to facilitate the planting or the extension of new crops with the view of furnishing raw materials to industry, satisfying the food requirements of the nation, increasing the export of agricultural products and, reciprocally, the import of foreign products which are essential to use; (b) to develop the interior market (family, domestic) by raising the purchasing power of the rural population. In other words, increase the national demand in order to develop the industries atrophied by an overly restrained consumption, or in order to create those which, for lack of customers, were never able to get started among us.»

The revolutionaries wanted to diversify their sugarcane island, produce food security for their people, remove people from desperation, increase the ability of people to consume a range of goods and engineer a people-centred rather than an export-centred economy. Long before Castro announced his commitment to communism, the regime had already developed a carefully thought out socialist platform.

The United States of America, having overthrown the radical nationalist government in Guatemala in 1954, was eager to repeat the task in Cuba in 1959. An embargo came swiftly, as did every form of humiliation possible against the Cuban people. The Cuban economy was structured around dependency to Washington, with the sugar bought by the US firms and with the island turned into a playground for American tourists. Now, the US decided to squeeze this little island, only ninety miles from the US shoreline. Gunboats were readied, a failed invasion tried in April 1961 at the Bay of Pigs. Cuba was vulnerable but also protected by the deep roots of its revolution. But would this protection be sufficient? Could Cuba, alone, be able to survive the onslaught from the United States?

On February 5, 1960, a leader in the USSR and an Old Bolshevik – Anastas Mikoyan – came to Havana to join Fidel Castro at the opening of a Soviet scientific, cultural and technical exhibition. A week later, Mikoyan and Castro signed an agreement for the USSR to buy Cuban sugar at the world market price (in dollars) and provide credits for the Cubans to buy Russian goods. The USSR would subsequently buy almost all the Cuban sugar harvest, even as the Russian consumer market could very well have been supplied by beet sugar from within the USSR. Prices fluctuated, but, on balance, the Cubans were able to find a regular buyer to take over from the United States. The Russians also provided over a $100 million in credits toward the construction of Cuba’s chemical industry as well as trained Cuban technical and scientific workers in the USSR. Diversification of Cuba’s economy remained on the cards, although it became clear that it would not be an easy task. In August 1963, Castro announced that diversification, as well as industrialization, would be postponed. Cuba needed to concentrate on its sugarcane harvest to earn the means to survive the embargo.

On February 24, 1965, Che Guevara addressed the Second Economic Seminar of Afro-Asian Solidarity in Algiers, Algeria. He had come to talk about the economic problems for a revolution in a post-colonial country. Overthrowing the former colonizer was not enough, Che said, since ‘a real break’ is needed from imperialism for the new state to actually flourish and not remain in dependency. How could the post-colonial state survive a hostile economic climate? Who would buy its goods – mainly primary, unprocessed goods – at a fair price, and who would lend it capital at fair terms to develop? Capitalist banks and countries would not provide the post-colonial state, particularly a socialist state, with the means to break out of the trap of underdevelopment. Banks would lend money to a post-colonial state at rates higher than it would lend to a colonial power. Expensive money would only put the post-colonial state into further difficulty, as it would find it hard to service its debt and see its debt multiply out of hand. To prevent this situation, Che argued, the ‘socialist countries must help pay for the development of countries now starting out on the road to liberation’. Trade between socialist countries must not take place based on the law of value of capitalism, but through the creation of fraternal prices. ‘The real task’, Che said, ‘consists of setting prices that will permit development. A great shift in ideas will be involved in changing the order of international relations. Foreign trade should not determine policy, but should, on the contrary, be subordinated to a fraternal policy toward the peoples.’

China, in 1960, offered Cuba credit of $60 million without interest and without a timeline for repayment. This was an enviable loan. But the scale was much smaller than the Soviet assistance. By 1964, the USSR had provided Cuba with economic assistance valued at over $600 million, while the Eastern European countries offered several hundred million more in aid and assistance. The USSR had also trained over 3,000 Cubans in agronomy and agricultural mechanization as well as 900 Cubans as engineers and technicians. Che recognized the value of the Soviet ‘fraternal policy’ both in terms of the training and in the prices offered. ‘Clearly, we could not ask the Socialist world to buy this quantity of sugar at this price based on economic motives’, he had said in 1961, ‘because really there is no reason in world commerce for this purchase and it was simply a political gesture’.

Red Star Over the Third World, Vijay Prashad, 2019

[milfstalin]

anastas mikoyan would have made a great food blogger or foodtok girlie

[ratnurse]

I made a mistake rewatching the death of stalin while researching an essay on Soviet foreign policy in 1956 because now when I read presidium minutes I hear it in their ridiculous regional British accents from the movie. What do you mean Anastas Mikoyan didnt have a cockney accent

[thespoliarium]

Meet the Politburo...

Red Monarch (1983, dir. Jack Gold) || The Death of Stalin (2017, dir. Armando Iannucci)

[20thpresidium]

Press Release from Anastas Mikoyan

"Comrade Zhukov has done nothing but lead our beloved Soviet Forces to their deaths. Hero of the Soviet Union? More like the Grimm Reaper! Comrade Zhukov was a respected General during the Great Patriotic War, but he is getting old, getting rusty. Comrade Zhukov should retire and contribute to the revolution in other manners, such as working in my Ministry of Forest, cutting wood."

[lightdancer1]

The irony is that prior to the Revolution at least some Bolsheviks really did openly preach free love:

Prior to rising to power there were Bolsheviks who sincerely believed in free love and that the glorious springtime of the proletariat would practice it. The main theoretician on these lines was also one of the few Old Bolsheviks to die of old age not named Anastas Mikoyan. For whatever reason Stalin never laid a hand on her, and let her have peripheral gilded cages flitting at the edge of power but never actually holding it.

[commiearabgirll]

My least favorite genre of politburo photos are the ones where all the real ones are there as they should be and then there's Mikoyan in the corner. And it just ruins my entire day.

[alliluyevas]

just found out that sergo mikoyan listens to sade. what do i do with this information

the former USSR’s coolest and hippest family

[howieabel]

"The principle of collective leadership is elementary for a proletarian party and for a party of the Lenin type. Nevertheless, we must emphasize this old truth, because for about 20 years we have had practically no collective leadership; there flourished the cult of the individual which was condemned first by Marx and then by Lenin. And this, of course, could not but reflect negatively on the position of the party and its work."

Anastas Mikoyan , As quoted in "The World Almanac and Book of Facts" (1969), p. 159

[milfstalin]

rykov and yagoda make fun of the stalinists

Scene: "The Drunken Duet"

Setting: Late at night, outside Yagoda’s dacha. The snow has stopped, and the moon casts a pale glow over the estate. Yagoda and Rykov stumble out of the house, arms slung around each other’s shoulders, both thoroughly drunk. Their breath forms clouds in the cold air as they laugh and sing, their voices carrying across the quiet grounds. A half-empty bottle of vodka dangles from Yagoda’s hand, while Rykov waves a cigarette like a conductor’s baton. The mood is raucous and irreverent, a rare moment of levity in their otherwise grim lives.

Rykov (singing off-key, to the tune of a popular folk song): "Oh, the Party’s got a leader, A man of steel, they say! But his mustache is the only thing That’s hard about him anyway!"

Yagoda (laughing, joining in with a mocking falsetto): "Oh, Koba, dear Koba, With your plans so grand! You’d collectivize the moon If it weren’t so far from your hand!"

(They collapse into laughter, leaning on each other for support. Yagoda takes a swig from the bottle and hands it to Rykov, who drinks deeply before wiping his mouth with his sleeve.)

Rykov (grinning): "God, Gena, do you remember Voroshilov at the last parade? Strutting around like a peacock in his shiny boots, Preening for the cameras, As if anyone could mistake him for anything but a horse’s backside."

Yagoda (mocking Voroshilov’s voice, puffing out his chest): "Comrades! Behold my beauty! My mustache is a work of art! My horse is my only equal, And even it thinks I’m a fool!"

(They both roar with laughter, clutching their sides. Rykov nearly falls over, and Yagoda grabs him by the arm to steady him.)

Rykov (wiping tears from his eyes): "And Molotov! Christ, what a bore. I once saw him at a meeting, Staring at a piece of paper for an hour, As if it might reveal the secrets of the universe. The man’s a stone, Gena. A stone with glasses."

Yagoda (nodding sagely, imitating Molotov’s monotone): "Comrades, I have reviewed the minutes. The minutes are... satisfactory. Now, let us review them again. And again. And again."

(They both dissolve into laughter again, their voices echoing across the snowy grounds. Yagoda takes the bottle back and drinks, then points it at Rykov like a prosecutor delivering a verdict.)

Yagoda: "And Kaganovich! The man can talk circles around anyone— A regular Cicero in a worker’s cap. But put a pen in his hand, And it’s like watching a bear try to knit. His speeches? Brilliant. His memos? Unreadable. I once got a report from him That looked like it had been written during an earthquake. Spelling? Grammar? Bah! Revolutionary spirit doesn’t need punctuation!"

Rykov (mimicking Kaganovich’s gruff voice): "Comrades, I have no time for spelling! The Revolution waits for no man! Now, let’s build a railway! Or a shoe factory! Or... or... whatever this scribble says!"

(They both howl with laughter, leaning on each other for support. Yagoda suddenly straightens up, his expression turning mock-serious.)

Yagoda: "And then there’s Mikoyan. Our dear Anastas. The boy wonder. The ice cream king. The man who thinks Stalin invented the hamburger."

Rykov (grinning): "Oh, Mikoyan! The only man in the Politburo Who gets excited about frozen peas. ‘Comrades, we must modernize! We must embrace the future! We must... have more ice cream!’"

Yagoda (mocking Mikoyan’s earnestness): "Comrades, I have seen the future, And it is... a milkshake! A milkshake for the masses! A milkshake for the Revolution!"

(They both collapse into laughter again, their voices ringing out in the cold night air. Rykov takes the bottle from Yagoda and raises it high, his voice suddenly solemn.)

Rykov: "And then there’s Sergo. Ah, Sergo! The great industrialist! The man who builds factories And breaks faces with equal enthusiasm. I heard he punched his chauffeur last week Because the car wasn’t warm enough. ‘Comrade Ordzhonikidze,’ I said, ‘Why not just build a better heater?’ He looked at me like I’d suggested We privatize the railroads!"

Yagoda (laughing, imitating Sergo’s booming voice): "Comrades, I am a man of action! If the workers are cold, I’ll warm them up— With my fists! If the machines break, I’ll fix them— With my fists! If the Five-Year Plan falls behind, I’ll punch it back on schedule!"

Rykov (mocking Sergo’s self-importance): "Oh, Sergo, the hero of industry! The man who thinks every problem Can be solved with a hammer— Or a knuckle sandwich. I once saw him at a factory meeting, Berating a foreman for a production delay. ‘Comrade,’ he roared, ‘If you don’t meet your quota, I’ll personally beat the steel into shape— Starting with your face!’"

(They both roar with laughter, clutching their sides. Yagoda takes the bottle back and drinks, then raises it in a mock toast.)

Yagoda: "And then there’s Kirov. Oh, Sergei Mironovich! The golden boy of Leningrad. The man who could talk a starving man Into giving up his last crust of bread— And then convince him it was his idea. All charm, no substance. A walking, talking poster for the Revolution. I once saw him give a speech so inspiring That even the statues in the square Looked like they were about to applaud. But ask him to draft a policy? Ha! He’d talk for three hours And say absolutely nothing."

Rykov (grinning, imitating Kirov’s smooth, charismatic voice): "Comrades, let us unite! Let us strive for greatness! Let us... uh... Well, let’s just keep talking until someone else Figures out what we’re supposed to do!"

Yagoda (laughing): "Oh, Kirov! The man could charm the pants off a nun, But ask him to organize a bread line, And he’d probably end up Selling the flour back to the kulaks!"

Rykov (raising the bottle): "To the clowns! The finest collection of fools Ever to grace the stage of history. May they never change, And may we never stop laughing at them."

Yagoda (raising an imaginary glass): "To the clowns! And to us, The fools who have to work with them."

(They clink the bottle against Yagoda’s imaginary glass and drink deeply. For a moment, they stand in silence, the laughter fading as they look out over the snowy grounds. The moon casts long shadows, and the world feels still and quiet. Then Rykov grins and elbows Yagoda in the ribs.)

Rykov: "Come on, Gena. Let’s go inside before we freeze. We can finish the bottle And come up with more songs. I haven’t even started on Yezhov yet."

Yagoda (smirking): "Yezhov? That’s a whole opera, Alexei. We’ll need another bottle for that."

(They stumble back toward the house, their laughter fading as they disappear inside. The snow begins to fall again, covering their footprints and silencing the night. Inside, the fire crackles, and the sound of their voices rises once more, warm and irreverent, a fleeting moment of defiance in the face of the world outside.)

End Scene.