Chapter 103:

Name:I Became Stalin?! Author:
Chapter 103:

Chapter 103

Just like Germany operated concentration camps, there were also people imprisoned in the gulags in the Soviet Union.

They were slightly or half a notch better than Nazi Germany, which openly operated extermination camps to kill people, but it was still embarrassing to claim that they were humane.

“So how many people are in there exactly?”

“...It is estimated that there are about 3.5 million people.”

Stalin did not kill tens of millions of people as the Western sages painted during the Cold War.

But he could not deny that he was a murderer who locked up millions and killed hundreds of thousands.

Beria, seeing my dismayed expression, fidgeted with his fingers and smiled servilely.

“Of those, how many are not violent criminals, but political prisoners, that is, those who can be released?”

“Huh? Release of political prisoners?”

Hmm. I guess that’s not possible.

To be honest, even if I thought about it briefly, it was unrealistic to argue that they should all be released back into society.

They had thrown people into the gulags, no matter how wrong the Soviet government was, but they still had to lead the war.

It was too radical to release millions of people who would likely harbor resentment against the government.

“Don’t we have to send them back to society someday?”

“...If that is the will of the Comrade Secretary General...”

“Beria, you may think so, but it’s not a simple matter. We have to get along with the imperialist countries on the surface, and we can’t let these ‘minor’ things hold us back!”

“I will follow your orders!”

Only then did Beria answer briskly.

The Western ‘imperialist’ countries always criticized the Soviet Union and the Eastern Bloc countries for their human rights issues.

Means of maintaining the system such as concentration camps or secret police were one of the main criticisms of the West.

Even now, anti-Sovietists in the United States were endlessly criticizing the Soviet Union with this and whining.

“I don’t know what they have to say so much when they themselves put Japanese people in gulags, but anyway, don’t give them any reason to pick on us. Moral superiority is our good weapon.”

“Indeed, Comrade Secretary General’s insight is excellent! We never even thought of such a thing.”

“Think about it. How many people would die if we fought another fierce battle with them? A frontal confrontation with their endless weapons. Isn’t it terrible? Rather than being brought to our knees by guns and swords, wouldn’t it be better if we could lead the situation favorably through morality?”

We couldn’t abandon socialism. Socialism was the identity of the Soviet Union itself.

But from now on, Soviet socialism had to be human-faced socialism, not Stalin’s iron fist that crushed and bulldozed the opposition.

Even if our country was less prosperous and lacked something than theirs, we had to promote that it was a happier and ‘better’ country for the sake of it.

“From now on, let’s leave Siberia development to professional skilled workers. It would be better to ease the living conditions of the gulags as well. Beria, follow me instead of your horse. Isn’t food situation not bad right now?”

According to the plan, most of the prisoners would be transferred to the Volga and Kazakhstan regions with an average level of treatment for Soviet citizens.

At least it would be better than doing hard labor in Siberia.

We had to develop this area someday anyway, and we needed a huge amount of labor to lay down infrastructure for development.

We couldn’t immediately put them into military production because of sabotage concerns, so it was better to use them for something like this.

“By the way... Ah! It’s really refreshing!”

“That’s right, Comrade Secretary General.”

There were sporadic clashes on the front lines.

But I stopped the war map for a while and came out of Moscow for the first time since reincarnation and inspected the field.

It was in the ‘virgin land’ area of Volga and Kazakhstan.

The plain that stretched to the horizon seemed untouched by human hands, preserving its lush greenery.

A vast plain without a single curve spread out everywhere I looked.The debut release of this chapter happened at Ñøv€l-B1n.

Suddenly Hrushchev caught my eye as he walked a little away from me.

He flinched as soon as he met my eyes, as if he was still terrified.

Hrushchev’s claim of ‘virgin land reclamation’ was a mixture of nonsense and truth, but it wasn’t entirely wrong.

The wheat improved by seed improvement grew well in this area.

The soil was good, though not as good as Ukraine’s black soil zone.

But infrastructure was absolutely lacking.

What if you produce grain? You have to be able to transport it to people who will eat it.

“When will we be able to lay down enough railways to cover this vast land?”

“We will complete it as soon as possible!”

The regional party secretary apologized with a bowed head.

I didn’t intend to make him do the impossible right away, so I smiled and waved my hand.

But railways were absolutely necessary for transportation.

“Ha, hahaha... Hahaha! Yes, Comrade Secretary.”

We had to supply agricultural machinery and set up facilities that could maintain them.

If there were facilities, we would need manpower, and if we wanted to train manpower, we would need education.

The areas that needed investment increased as one thing led to another, and the things we had to worry about also increased.

The good thing was that the war was helping us with this.

“As tanks are being supplied massively to the battlefield, the number of soldiers who have learned to drive and maintain vehicles is increasing. They will be valuable forces in the industrial field in the future.”

“That’s it! Although war may be a horrible tragedy, our Soviet people will be reborn in the war.”

Borosilov was a zero as a warlord, but he had some talent as a military administrator.

If it was a disadvantage that he commanded the cavalry of the Red Army during the Civil War, it was Borosilov who organized them and made them into an army from behind.

He was also contributing greatly to training special forces Spetsnaz and improving the quantity and quality of support troops within the army.

The tank soldiers who survived the bloody war would return to the industrial field after the war.

With the skills they learned in the army.

Driving was a valuable skill in this era. Handling complex machines was also no different from having a tremendous ability. Modern war, the total war we are experiencing, organized young people who were living in pre-modern times into new human beings.

The army also played that role in Korean society for a while.

Rural youths who woke up when the sun rose, ate when they were hungry, and slept when the sun set had to get used to the army’s schedule that moved according to a tight plan of 5 or 10 minutes.

And they were able to become good workers by using what they learned in the army.

The way the army worked was essentially not much different from a factory.

‘My’ grandfather was like that too. He was a Vietnam War veteran and learned vehicle maintenance as a sergeant. And he raised four children, including my father, with his skills from the army.

I suddenly thought of my father and saw the image of a drunkard shoemaker in Georgia Gori overlapping with that of a kind office worker. I shivered at the grotesqueness.

“Maybe it was a good thing that the war happened... Koba, don’t you think so too?”

“Is that so...?”

That evening, at the banquet prepared by the local party organization, Borosilov drank a few glasses of vodka and asked me with a slightly drunk expression.

I only drank half a glass for the sake of this old body’s health, but most of them were drunk after repeating pouring and drinking.

War... Maybe someone who hadn’t seen the horror of the Eastern Front in real history could say that.

Borosilov gulped down another glass of vodka.

“Yes! It was good. The Ukrainian reactionaries must have been shocked when they saw us. Is collectivization a problem? They are boiling over there, trying to kill us all...”

Stalin wielded his ruthless iron fist and suppressed the dissatisfied factions under the pretext of security threats.

‘We are behind the capitalist powers by a century or half a century. If we don’t catch up with them in ten years, there will be no future for our socialist motherland. Will we catch up with them or be eaten by them?’

In 1931, Stalin said that.

After that, countless people were executed, dragged to gulags, and starved to death.

But the violence was justified when the war broke out exactly ten years later. Borosilov pointed that out.

‘You ignored Comrade Stalin’s wisdom for your immediate comfort. But look! We were right!’

“People threw garbage at us. But look! The wind of the times, the wind of history will sweep it away. Koba, have a drink.”

“...”

‘I’ would probably be rated much more favorably than Stalin in real history.

The tragedy on the actual Eastern Front was much reduced in scale, and the Soviet Union’s national power grew more efficiently.

The anti-communist critics who denounced me, Churchill, were roasted by the much stronger German army.

And yet, only our Soviet Union stopped Germany.

Partly because I reduced cultural-social repression and surveillance...

Maybe future generations would evaluate ‘me’ more positively? But that also had its own problems.

The mythical success of the Stalin regime made it difficult for future leaders to attempt bold reforms.

It was not until the 1980s, when the problems of the system became too obvious to hide, that they started hesitantly.

Stalin died 30 years before Gorbachev and other reformers began to seriously address the issues.

‘And they approached it clumsily and naively, and dismantled the Soviet Union...’

The country built by the blood of workers and people was dismantled by the sons of poor peasants who wanted to become feudal nobles on top of it. And then the chaos began.

As I recalled the dry memories in my head, I felt a strange resentment.

‘In this world... is de-Stalinization possible?’

Khrushchev, who led it in real history, was scolded by me and couldn’t make a peep.

Molotov, who remained loyal to Stalin until the end, was half-recognized as a second-in-command.

The senior generals of the military who had power in their hands were almost absolutely loyal to me because I personally hired and promoted them.

The success of now could lead to failure later... But I couldn’t risk people’s lives for something that might fail.

My head was complicated so I drank vodka.

Yeah, how can I be responsible for what happens after I die?