Skip to main content

Mennonite Dystopia: “Socializing” in the era of Collectivization

The 1942 village reports prepared for the German Reichsminister for the Occupied Eastern Territories document an almost complete breakdown of community life under Stalin in predominantly Mennonite communities.

To read them is to take a step into a dystopian world (note 1). Here is a small sample of responses to one of many questions; they are asked by the occupying German army to reflect on "socializing" (Geseligkeit)—having fun, meeting socially with others—as they experienced it during the recently ended communist period:

Adelsheim [Chortitza]: "Socializing during the period of collectivization came to a complete end. Because of the many frictions in the collective [farm], we became weary/wary (überdrüssig) of each other.”

Blumengart [Chortitza]: "Regarding our social life after collectivization, neighbour no longer wished to see neighbour.” Also: "A lack of clothing hinders social life amongst the youth in particular".

Chortitza [Town]: “Social life was extinguished in the Bolshevik period. If a few people got together, they became politically suspect. No one trusted the other anymore. That mutual distrust is now slowly fading.”

Franzfeld [Chortitza]: “Socializing ended completely during the Bolshevik period; slowly it is coming back to life, because people are beginning to trust each other more.”

Hochfeld [Chortitza]: “Social life ended completely under the Bolsheviks, especially with collectivization. We became weary /wary (überdrüssig) of each other. Earlier it was completely different. Farmers visited more and stuck together much more.”

Katharinovka [Borosenko]: “Socializing? That was unknown. From early till late, day in and day out, winter and summer (without a day of rest!) toiling on the collective farm without rhyme or reason … Life on the collective farm embittered the person; one hated the other, each lived for himself alone, in dreary brooding, without hope of a better future.”

Kronstal [Chortitza]: "Socializing disappeared almost completely with the collective system. Everyone is very happy if on a Sunday he can finally stay away from the community for a few hours and be alone to himself."

Neuhorst [Chortitza]: "Socializing was completely extinguished by the collective system; people had long become weary/wary (überdrüssig) of each other.”

Nikolaifeld [Chortitza]: “Socializing during the period of the collectivization stopped completely. Earlier, visiting with neighbours was very normal, but even that came to an end. On the collective farm and with the Bolshevistic assemblies people became wary/weary (überdrüssig) of each other. ... In 1929 a five-day week was introduced [i.e., no weekend], and then in 1932 the six-day week, and later again the seven-day week. From April to December there was no day of rest on the collective farm.”

Osterwick [Chortitza]: "Abject poverty and lack of clothing were also reasons for limited socializing at weddings, funerals and similar events. Earlier there was also a radio station that could be accessed from the loudspeakers in the homes.”

Rosenbach [Chortitza]: “With collectivization, socializing came to a complete stop. In the past years, wedding celebrations and other folk festivities also ceased.”

Rosengart [Chortitza]: "As is the case everywhere, socializing virtually stopped with collectivization; but it is also getting somewhat better in this regard compared to a year ago. Nonetheless, because of utter poverty, especially the lack of clothing, people hardly come together even at festive occasions.”

Schönhorst [Chortitza]: “In the past years, the beautiful German wedding celebrations were fewer and fewer. Earlier the churches too had organized children’s festivals together with neighbouring villages. Slowly social gatherings are coming back to life, but it is still in its early stage.”

While these reports were written under the Nazi-occupation regime, the claims are supported even by the extant literature in the villages in the 1930s and by the files of those arrested in the purge, 1937-38 (note 2).

With parents largely absent on the collective farm (or arrested), childrearing and formational instruction in the 1930s was largely out of their hands (note 3). Some German-language reading materials for the local Young Pioneer groups encouraged children and youth to turn against parents and neighbours to help with the problem of “German espionage.” Columns in the Pioneer Pravda (Truth) youth paper and “spy booklets”—with titles like “Be on alert!,” “Stranger with a Bundle,” etc.—taught young people that their own “watchful and attentive eyes” made them “good helpers” of the NKVD secret police. They too may be able “to discover traces of the enemy,” and perhaps even “detain and expose the vile intentions of spies” (note 4).

This message mirrored the adult literature in each village “Red Corner” reading room and in the mandatory subscription materials for Komsomol and Party members (note 5). A popular booklet translated into German, for example, was N. Abusow’s 1937 booklet Gestapo. “In recruiting spies and other vermin the German spy service tries to exploit the German population concentrated in certain districts. The Gestapo directs its focus to places of significant German population ... including the German villages in the Ukraine.” Abusow called for “honest citizens” to join the work of Soviet counter-intelligence services.

The support that the women sought to preserve among themselves after the purge (1937-38), for example, was also infiltrated and shattered by the planting of Soviet-friendly activists in the community. Each file of the thousands arrested includes testimonies of local informants. Stalin successfully manufactured and transmitted paranoia and fear from above, generating terror at the regional and village levels below tearing the fabric—almost completely—of Mennonite life in Ukraine. Every Mennonite village was impacted as the village reports suggest. Socializing ended, and no one had courage left to say, wish, or hope anything.

Nazi German occupation forces in Ukraine found Mennonites depleted and broken—physically, mentally, socially and spiritually—from Stalinist repression. “Every individual initiative in them has been killed or stifled, because to be an individual is to be suspect, in danger of being reported. They hesitate to express any private opinions, fearing … spies are still at work” (note 6).

Decades later Eduard Reimer summed up the experience and its life-long impact:

“It is practically impossible to imagine how afraid everybody was in the villages at that time. Already as children and especially as teens, we learned to put on a false face and were compelled to hide our true thoughts and feelings. I believe that this forced two-facedness left many of my generation with life-long inhibitions. . . . I was compelled—like most in the village and in school—always to have two faces, one that was shown outwardly, and one that was turned inward. Nothing in my life has been more repulsive to me." (Note 7)

Katie Friesen recalled : “We lived in fear of those who would take what little we had left. … not even neighbours and friends could be trusted. One never knew when one would become a scapegoat for the purposes of the state” (note 8). Similarly Victor Janzen: “[Y]ou did not know anymore whom you could trust. …Many a wound, inflicted in those days, is not quite healed even today” (note 9).

Helene Dueck’s memories are most direct: “Honesty, diligence, brotherly love and willingness to help disappeared more and more. Everyone tried to get by in a selfish way, especially in the famine years when everything edible was scarce and thousands died of hunger. Many collaborated with the godless regime. They even betrayed their friends and relatives to save their lives. ... no one could be trusted. A wife often did not know what her husband was thinking, and the husband did not trust his own wife. Children would inform on their parents, and were praised for it at school. One did not know what was right and what was wrong, what was legal and what was illegal.” (Note 10)

I think of my grandmother's church women's group in the 1970s--all individuals who had endured this era. However I cannot imagine them in this context. In my children memory they were generally happy, sociable, somewhat stoic, and in hindsight clearly resilient.

            ---Arnold Neufeldt-Fast

---Notes---

Note 1: “Village Reports Commando Dr. Stumpp.” Prepared for the German Reichsminister for the Occupied Eastern Territories, 1942. In Bundesarchiv Koblenz, BArch, Special Unit Stumpp, R6 GSK, files 620 to 633; 702 to 709. From State Electronic Archive of Ukraine, https://tsdea.aewrchives.gov.ua/deutsch/. NB: better copies with no watermarks, https://invenio.bundesarchiv.de  (search e.g., by file: “R 6/620”).

Note 2: For a fuller treatment see my essay: “A new Examination of the ‘Great Terror’ in Molotschna, 1937–38,” Mennonite Quarterly Review 95, no. 4 (October 2021), 415–458, https://digitalcollections.tyndale.ca/handle/20.500.12730/1031.

Note 3: See previous post, https://russianmennonites.blogspot.com/2023/01/a-day-in-her-shoes-women-on-collective.html.

Note 4: Vanya Kuznetsova and Anya Kuznetsova, “Stranger with a Bundle” (Незнакомец со свертком), Pinerskaya Pravda (December 20, 1937), https://www.oldgazette.ru/pionerka/20121937/text3.html; V. Varmuzh, “Young helpers of glorious NKVD officers” (Юные помощники славных чекистов), Pionerskaya Pravda (Dec. 20,  1937), https://www.oldgazette.ru/pionerka/20121937/index1.html; Lev Zilver, Be on alert! (Быть на-чеку!) (Moscow: Molodaya Gvardiya, 1938), https://libking.ru/books/det-/det-espionage/445434-lev-zilver-byt-na-cheku.html.

Note 5: Cf. Andrej Kotljarchuk, “Propaganda of Hatred and the Great Terror: A Nordic Approach,” in Ethnic and Religious Minorities in Stalin’s Soviet Union: New Dimensions of Research, edited by Andrej Kotljarchuk and Olle Sundström (Huddinge: Södertörns, 2017), 95, https://www.diva-portal.org/smash/get/diva2:1166306/FULLTEXT01.pdf.

Note 6: Anonymous, “Zwischen Odessa and Perekop in den ersten Monaten des deutsch-russischen Krieges,” Mennonitisches Jahrbuch 1949, cited in Anne Konrad, Red Quarter Moon: A Search for Family in the Shadow of Stalin (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2012), 151.

Note 7: Eduard (Abram) Reimer, “Memoir.” Unpublished (n.d.), 22, 17, 26. From Mennonite Heritage Archives, Winnipeg, MB., Gerhard Lohrenz Fonds, 60, no. 63, vol. 3333. See partial English translation under pseudonym Eduard Allert (Lost Generation, edited by Gerhard Lohrenz [Steinbach, MB, 1982]).

Note 8: Katie Friesen, Into the Unknown (Steinbach, MB: Self-published, 1986), 29.

Note 9: Victor Janzen, From the Dniepr to the Paraguay River (Winnipeg, MB: Self-published, 1995), 27.

Note 10: Helene Dueck, Durch Trübsal und Not (Winnipeg, MB: Centre for Mennonite Brethren Studies, 1995), 16f., https://archive.org/details/durch-truebsal-und-not/mode/2up.

Print Friendly and PDF

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Russian and Prussian Mennonite Participants in “Racial-Science,” 1930

I n December 1929, some 3,885 Soviet Mennonites plus 1,260 Lutherans, 468 Catholics, 51 Baptists and seven Adventists were assisted by Germany to flee the Soviet Union. They entered German transit camps before resettlement in Canada, Brazil and Paraguay ( note 1 ) In the camps Russian Mennonites participated in a racial-biological study to measure their hereditary characteristics and “racial” composition and “blood purity” in comparison to Danzig-West Prussian, genetic cousins. In Germany in the last century, anthropological and medical research was horribly misused for the pseudo-scientific work referred to as “racial studies” (Rassenkunde). The discipline pre-dated Nazi Germany to describe apparent human differences and ultimately “to justify political, social and cultural inequality” ( note 2 ). But by 1935 a program of “racial hygiene” and eugenics was implemented with an “understanding that purity of the German Blood is the essential condition for the continued existence of the

“Operation Chortitza” – Resettler Camps in Danzig-West Prussia, 1943-44 (Part I)

In October 1943, some 3,900 Mennonite resettlers from “Operation Chortitza” entered the Gau of Danzig-West Prussia. They were transported by train via Litzmannstadt and brought to temporary camps in Neustadt (Danzig), Preußisch Stargard (Konradstein), Konitz, Kulm on the Vistula, Thorn and some smaller localities ( note 1 ). The Gau received over 11,000 resettlers from the German-occupied east zones in 1943. Before October some 3,000 were transferred from these temporary camps for permanent resettlement in order to make room for "Operation Chortitza" ( note 2 ). By January 1, 1944 there were 5,473 resettlers in the Danzig-West Prussian camps (majority Mennonite); one month later that number had almost doubled ( note 3 ). "Operation Chortitza" as it was dubbed was part of a much larger movement “welcoming” hundreds of thousands of ethnic Germans “back home” after generations in the east. Hitler’s larger plan was to reorganize peoples in Europe by race, to separate

Sesquicentennial: Proclamation of Universal Military Service Manifesto, January 1, 1874

One-hundred-and-fifty years ago Tsar Alexander II proclaimed a new universal military service requirement into law, which—despite the promises of his predecesors—included Russia’s Mennonites. This act fundamentally changed the course of the Russian Mennonite story, and resulted in the emigration of some 17,000 Mennonites. The Russian government’s intentions in this regard were first reported in newspapers in November 1870 ( note 1 ) and later confirmed by Senator Evgenii von Hahn, former President of the Guardianship Committee ( note 2 ). Some Russian Mennonite leaders were soon corresponding with American counterparts on the possibility of mass migration ( note 3 ). Despite painful internal differences in the Mennonite community, between 1871 and Fall 1873 they put up a united front with five joint delegations to St. Petersburg and Yalta to petition for a Mennonite exemption. While the delegations were well received and some options could be discussed with ministers of the Crown,

"Anti-Menno" Communist: David J. Penner (1904-1993)

The most outspoken early “Mennonite communist”—or better, “Anti-Menno” communist—was David Johann Penner, b. 1904. Penner was the son of a Chortitza teacher and had grown up Mennonite Brethren in Millerovo, with five religious services per week ( note 1 )! In 1930 with Stalin firmly in power, Penner pseudonymously penned the booklet entitled Anti-Menno ( note 2 ). While his attack was bitter, his criticisms offer a well-informed, plausible window on Mennonite life—albeit biased and with no intention for reform. He is a ethnic Mennonite writing to other Mennonites. Penner offers multiple examples of how the Mennonite clergy in particular—but also deacons, choir conductors, Sunday School teachers, leaders of youth or women’s circles—aligned themselves with the exploitative interests of industry and wealth. Extreme prosperity for Mennonite industrialists and large landowners was achieved with low wages and the poverty of their Russian /Ukrainian workers, according to Penner. Though t

High Crimes and Misdemeanors: Mennonite Murders, Infanticide, Rapes and more

To outsiders, the Mennonite reality in South Russia appeared almost utopian—with their “mild and peaceful ethos.” While it is easy to find examples of all the "holy virtues" of the Mennonite community, only when we are honest about both good deeds and misdemeanors does the Russian Mennonite tradition have something authentic to offer—or not. Rudnerweide was one of a few Molotschna villages with a Mennonite brewery and tavern , which in turn brought with it life-style lapses that would burden the local elder. For example, on January 21, 1835, the Rudnerweide Village Office reported that Johann Cornies’s sheep farm manager Heinrich Reimer, as well as Peter Friesen and an employed Russian shepherd, came into the village “under the influence of brandy,” and: "…at the tavern kept by Aron Wiens, they ordered half a quart of brandy and shouted loudly as they drank, banged their glasses on the table. The tavern keeper objected asking them to settle down, but they refused and

Mennonite Heritage Week in Canada and the Russländer Centenary (2023)

In 2019, the Canadian Parliament declared the second week in September as “Mennonite Heritage Week.” The bill and statements of support recognized the contributions of Mennonites to Canadian society ( note 1 ). 2019 also marked the centenary of a Canadian Order in Council which, at their time of greatest need, classified Mennonites as an “undesirable” immigrant group: “… because, owing to their peculiar customs, habits, modes of living and methods of holding property, they are not likely to become readily assimilated or to assume the duties and responsibilities of Canadian citizenship within a reasonable time.” ( Pic ) With a change of government, this order was rescinded in 1922 and the doors opened for some 23,000 Mennonites to immigrate from the Soviet Union to Canada. The attached archival image of the Order in Council hangs on the office wall of Canadian Senator Peter Harder—a Russländer descendant. 2023 marks the centennial of the arrival of the first Russländer immigrant groups

Turning Weapons into Waffle Irons!

Turning Weapons into Waffle Irons:  Heart-Shaped Waffles and a smooth talking General In 1874 with Mennonite immigration to North America in full swing, the Tsar sent General Eduard von Totleben to the colonies to talk the remaining Mennonites out of leaving ( note 1 ). He came with the now legendary offer of alternative service. Totleben made presentations in Mennonite churches and had many conversations in Mennonite homes. Decades later the women still recalled how fond Totleben was of Mennonite heart-shaped waffles. He complemented the women saying, “How beautiful are the hearts of Mennonites!,” and he joked about how “much Mennonites love waffles ( Waffeln ), but not weapons ( Waffen )” ( note 2 )! His visit resulted in an extensive reversal of opinion and the offer was welcomed officially by the Molotschna and Chortitza Colony ministerials. And upon leaving, the general was gifted with a poem by Bernhard Harder ( note 3 ) and a waffle iron ( note 4 ). Harder was an influen

Fraktur (or Gothic) font and Kurrent- (or Sütterlin) handwriting: Nazi ban, 1941

In the middle of the war on January 1, 1942, the Winnipeg-based Mennonitische Rundschau published a new issue without the familiar Fraktur script masthead ( note 1 ). One might speculate on the reasons, but a year earlier Hitler banned the use of the font in the Reich . The Rundschau did not exactly follow all orders from Berlin—the rest of the paper was in Fraktur (sometimes referred to as "Gothic"); when the war ended in 1945, the Rundschau reintroduced the Fraktur font for its masthead. It wasn’t until the 1960s that an issue might have a page or title here or there with the “normal” or Latin font, even though post-war Germany was no longer using Fraktur . By 1973 only the Rundschau masthead is left in Fraktur , and that is only removed in December 1992. Attached is a copy of Nazi Party Secretary Martin Bormann's official letter dated January 3, 1941, which prohibited the use of Fraktur fonts "by order of the Führer. " Why? It was a Jewish invention, apparent

Village Reports Commando Dr. Stumpp, 1942: List and Links

Each of the "Commando Dr. Stumpp" village reports written during German occupation of Ukraine 1942 contains a mountain of demographic data, names, dates, occupations, numbers of untimely deaths (revolution, famines, abductions), narratives of life in the 1930s, of repression and liberation, maps, and much more. The reports are critical for telling the story of Mennonites in the Soviet Union before 1942, albeit written with the dynamics of Nazi German rule at play. Reports for some 56 (predominantly) Mennonite villages from the historic Mennonite settlement areas of Chortitza, Sagradovka, Baratow, Schlachtin, Milorodovka, and Borosenko have survived. Unfortunately no village reports from the Molotschna area (known under occupation as “Halbstadt”) have been found. Dr. Karl Stumpp, a prolific chronicler of “Germans abroad,” became well-known to German Mennonites (Prof. Benjamin Unruh/ Dr. Walter Quiring) before the war as the director of the Research Center for Russian Germans

Blessed are the Shoe-Makers: Brief History of Lost Soles

A collection of simple artefacts like shoes can open windows onto the life and story of a people. Below are a few observations about shoes and boots, or the lack thereof, and their connection to the social and cultural history of Russian Mennonites. Curiously Mennonites arrived in New Russia shoe poor in 1789, and were evacuated as shoe poor in 1943 as when their ancestors arrived--and there are many stories in between. The poverty of the first Flemish elder in Chortitza Bernhard Penner was so great that he had only his home-made Bastelschuhe in which to serve the Lord’s Supper. “[Consequently] four of the participating brethren banded together to buy him a pair of boots which one of the [Land] delegates, Bartsch, made for him. The poor community desired with all its heart to partake of the holy sacrament, but when they remembered the solemnity of these occasions in their former homeland, where they dressed in their Sunday best, there was loud sobbing.” ( Note 1 ) In the 1802 C