Kulaks vs Kolkhoz

Yesterday, a friend of mine sent me a photo that she had seen on social media. It was my neighbours, raising their glasses, in front of the stable block that one of them built without planning permission. Their glee was to celebrate their victory in stopping me achieving planning permission to live on my land. If you didn’t see the story here in the Herald as it unfolded, you might be interested to read my book – NoPD – How to Epically Fail at One Planet Development.

What interested me about this picture that I was sent, is that someone can be so smug about such a victory. Ok, you stopped me living on my land. Well done. Congratulations. But by doing that you made me homeless. Who celebrates making someone homeless? I guess, the kind of person that makes it their life’s work to ensure that you can never live on your land and start the tree nursery that you wanted to grow.

It’s a weird old thing, homelessness. You feel really lost. I’m still on my land at present; I have until February before they come and bulldoze me away. I’m in an 18 foot caravan that is cold. Really cold. And damp. I have plans to go, of course. I really can’t be bothered with court. But It’s interesting that this seems to be the way of things in this capitalist nightmare that they like to trap us all in.

There are no individual solutions to social problems. But in a world full of individualism, you’d think that was the only path available. People of a certain age, who grew up as baby boomers, who had good healthcare, decent schooling, affordable housing, they’re the ones who get angry when they feel that someone else may be able to get on despite all the odds. They’re into their pensions, which were sorted out back when there was such a thing, and they live comfortably, and they are able to do whatever they like, in that they build stables, houses, rental properties on their land, yet the council turn a blind eye, instead preferring to concentrate on those that have nothing. A farmhouse up the road sold recently to an English couple. They have filled the fields with cabins, vehicles, tents, buildings – all visible from the road, all making a visual impact, yet that’s ok, because they already have a house. And if you have a house you can have lots of other stuff and you can get away with it.

It strikes me that if I was in the position of my neighbours, in that I owned my property outright, had luxuries like land, stables, disposable income etc etc, that I wouldn’t begrudge someone trying to build something for themselves. Is the world really that selfish? Are people really that cripplingly cruel? It’s one thing to object to a planning application. It’s quite another to make it your life’s work to make someone fail, and then gloat over it.

During the Russian Revolution, the rich landowners, the Kulaks, were eventually beaten down by the peasant farmers, the Kolkhoz. With the help of the proletariat, they were able to rise up above the moneyed classes, the flag of the USSR signifying the union of the workers and the peasants. I feel that this may need to be a situation that arises again.

My neighbours, the Kulaks, aren’t being asked to share anything, to give anything, to contribute anything. But still they can’t bear to see the peasant class rise up. They can’t even bear seeing them safe with somewhere to live. And even though these objectors of mine are women, they show no solidarity with another woman, indicating that feminism was always a class issue, and the ones with the dolla will stick together, chink their glasses and celebrate the fall of the peasant.

My one trump card is that as a Kolkhoz, I’m on the side of the workers. The proletariat. We’re a much bigger group than they are. And when the revolution happens, it will be nice to see how they fare. Not many people know that most of the stories about the Soviet Union and Stalin were lies spread by the Nazis by their association with a certain newspaper magnate in America, but that’s another story. All we need to understand for our purposes, is that though there were a lot of lies about the Gulags, the Gulags did exist. And that’s where the Kulaks ended up.

Just sayin’.

Published by Tess Delaney

I mostly only come out at night... mostly....

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