Life in a Box

22 August, 2024

We’ve been told that people were hungry in the Soviet Union — that they were poor, deprived of Coca-Cola and McDonald’s. Nothing could be further from the truth. Let me give you, my dear reader, two examples that illustrate my point well.

First, the Soviet Union had an extremely well-developed and well-organized academic sphere. The Soviets began by aggressively censoring literature, both scientific and otherwise. They rewrote history extensively, controlling what the public could read. It is widely reported that Stalin — like many other high-ranking officials — maintained large libraries of books and other publications, often annotating them where he disagreed with the text. Maintaining such oppressive, tight control over public debate would never have been possible without strong academic institutions. Exactly what is going on in America today.

There was a man named Kandid Charkviani, the First Secretary of the Communist Party of Georgia for a time during Stalin’s era. His son, Gela Charkviani, became a well-known academic, public figure, and influential political operative even after the collapse of the Soviet Union, serving as assistant (speechwriter and translator) to Eduard Shevardnadze. He belonged to what the younger generation now calls the red intelligentsia. Gela once said that in a single month they were invited to 57 — or something close to that — feasts and celebrations. These were grand gatherings, full of singing and traditional Georgian feasting. Georgians truly know how to have a good time.

Now, you might think this example is too specific, not suitable for generalization, since it concerns a high-level academic living a privileged life. Well, hear this. My grandfather was from Guria, one of Georgia’s regions — the beating heart of the country. He was a peasant and spent his entire life in his village, raising his two children. He worked harder than anyone I have ever known; in fact, I think it’s almost impossible to work harder than he did.

He was very young when he left his parents’ home to start his own family, building his house quite literally with his own hands. He remained master of his household until the last moment of his life, which ended at the age of 80 when he suffered a stroke while working in the garden. If he saw you repairing something in his house — say, replacing an old door handle — he would stop you and take over himself.

My grandfather was a natural leader and an extremely active citizen. He was always the Tamada whenever he attended a feast. In Georgian tradition, the Tamada leads the table, offering toasts and orchestrating the event. He must be someone with a great reputation, whose word carries weight — especially at weddings and funerals, which could host more than 100 guests. The role also demands physical stamina, as the Tamada is expected to drink large amounts of wine. My grandfather had it all.

I’ve heard countless anecdotes about him from his younger days. In the morning, he might be in Moscow on business; by evening, he’d be leading a celebration back in his village. He hosted feasts every weekend, with every kind of delicacy on the table. If he couldn’t find anyone to celebrate with, he would stop city buses full of people, invite them to his home, and share the table with strangers. So, what hunger are you talking about? Even in the early 2000s, I remember our house always being full of guests.

This is where I come from.

What a contrast with America. When I arrived in Champaign, Professor Pigou invited me to a sushi bar. When we finished, he told me to put the leftovers in a plastic box and take them home. I was pleased beyond imagination, but I said nothing. Later, I realized this was normal practice in America — saving leftovers to save money. I also realized he thought I was some kind of beggar and that this was his well-intentioned, if clumsy, American way of helping me. In his defense, you really do need to save in America, because if you have no money and no food, you will go hungry. There is no community to share with you. Taking leftovers home in a box is, in a way, just delaying starvation.