The Washington times., 1935-11-22
RED WORKERS
REVOLT, BUT
IN VAIN
ARTICLE VIII
By MICHAEL BURSTEIN

BY MICHAEL BURSTEIN
Formerly Commander in the
Red Army
Earning as 1 did 300 rubleS
a month, my real pay amounted
actually to 225 rubles after all
the compulsory contributions and
subscriptions to various Soviet
organizations had been deducted
fror my wages.
NV monthly rental for room
together with the light and heat
bills and the special assessments
by the house committee, av-
eraged 65 rubles. That left me
a net monthly wage OF 160
tubles.
NV bread bill was 80 rubles a
month. That was before the
bread card system was abolished.
Since then, the price of bread has
been trebled. My street car fare
was IS rubles a month. My ex'
penses on the uneatable lunch
cons at the factory kitchen were
from 80 to 40 rubleS a month.
Butter Is Rubles
I had about so rubleS LETT tor
"luxuries," such as cigarettes,
clothes, laundry and bathhouse.
By giving up some OF these
"luxuries" was able to buy once
in a. while a pound Of butter Tor
is rubles, or a pound of sugar.
Consider, I was a highly skilled
worker, a shock brigadier. and my
standard of living was the envy
of the great mass of my com.
rades at the Red Putiloff plant.
The majority of them earned 40
rubles a month-one American
dollar in terms Of purchasing
power.
God alone knows how these
workers got along. The convicts
in Siberia under the Cars Jared
better than the free" common
workers under Stains dictator
ship of the proletariat.
Propaganda Films
It was a rare treat even for a
privileged worker like myself to go
to a show. The charge OF ad-
mission to a moving picture
theater is 2 rubles. We. the Soviet
workers, also came to hate the
Communist propag nda films
which create so much excitement
in the little art theaterS in
America.
I recall seeing, together with
o young Communist sailor, an
old Charlie Chaplin movie. We
laughed a great deal at Chap
Inns antics. The whole audi
ence was enjoying it hugely.
Suddenly there appeared on the
screen a table loaded with all
kinds of food. Everybody re-
mained spellbound. My Com
munist comrade tugged at my
sleeve:
'Misha, look! They are sitting
down to the table and eating
fresh loaves and fish and meat
and butter! It makes my mouth
water!"
Wnat q IaDle
what shall we workers say
them" I remarked to him, point
ing out that in the Red navy they
were getting plenty to eat. He
answered:
"YeS, that's true, in the navy
We do get more than the factory
workers, but look what tablet"
The whole theater buzzed with
excitement. The audience forgot
Charlie Chaplin and studied with
hungry eyes the various dishes in
the film, to the accompaniment of
ordinations:
Sausage! Meat! FISH"
Slavery and Hunger
I went out into the street. From
such delicacies as sausage and
meat, which belonged to a remote
dreamland, my thoughts wandered
to bread for breakfast, that soggy
black bread which was the pivot
of our daily life.
It is tragic to be a slave, but it
may be endurable when the mas,
ters supply full fleSh-pOts.
1t is tragic to go hungry, but i
may be endurable if one can cry
out for food.
But the greatest tragedy of all
is to suffer both slavery and hun
ger in enforced silence.
Such is the tragedy Of tens Of
millions of workers and peasants
in Soviet Russia.