'Black on the Reds': how an African American lived in the USSR for 44 years

An African-American Robert Robinson, at the age of 23, left the United States for the sake of well-paid work in the Soviet Union, and also in order to avoid oppression by racial feature.

Photo: Shutterstock

As a result, he was elected in 1930 member of Moscow Council of Workers' Deputies (Mossovet), and later wrote a book about his life in the USSR.

Robinson was born in 1906 in Jamaica, which was part of the British Empire. Soon, he and his family moved to Cubawhere he spent his childhood. In addition to English, the man owned Spanish and French.

Later, he and his mother moved to the United States, where Robert settled in Detroit and got a job at the factory Henry Ford. There, he was the only black worker and regularly encountered hostile behavior from other employees.

В 1929 year Ford Motor Company and the leadership of the USSR agreed to cooperate Gorky Automobile Plant. In 1930 year The Soviet delegation visited Ford Company, the head of the delegation offered one-year working contracts to Robinson and other employees in the USSR with a much higher salary than in the USA. Robert accepted the invitation due to massive unemployment provoked by Great Depression, institutional racism in the US state and a case that happened to a cousin of his friend, who was shortly before lynched in the south of the USA.

Robert Robinson arrived 4 July 1930 of the year Stalingrad (now Volgograd) to work on Stalingrad Tractor Plant. Shortly after arriving, he was attacked by two other American workers. This case has been widely replicated. Soviet propaganda for another revelation of American racism.

After the completion of the working contract in Stalingrad, he planned to return to the United States, but eventually decided to get a job at the Moscow Bearing Plant, where he was soon elected to the Moscow City Council.

В 1937 year entered and in 1944 year completed a full course Moscow evening machine-building institute in the specialty "Tank diesel".

During World War II he was forced along with his company to evacuate Kuibyshev (now Samara). He stayed there for several months, became seriously ill, and for health reasons he had to return to Moscow.

After the war, Robert Robinson was asked to play in the historical biographical film "Miklukho MaclayThe director Alexandra Razumnogo.

В 1988 year in the US, Robert Robinson wrote an autobiography “Black on red: 44 of the year in the Soviet Union. Autobiography of a black american".

In his biography, Robert spoke about the life of a foreigner in Soviet Russia: Stalin's repression, domestic racism, Soviet bureaucracy and other "charms" of Soviet life.

We have selected some bright quotes from this edition.

“Forty-four years I lived in the Soviet Union. I never even thought about staying there for long. How could I, a black American from Detroit, live in a country hostile to almost everything I believed in and read? Now, getting out of the USSR, I often ask myself how I managed to stay alive. Perhaps due to those values ​​that I learned from my mother, thanks to the unshakable faith in God, or, perhaps, thanks to innate stubbornness, but I did not turn red. ”

“All those who accepted Soviet citizenship were black, whom I knew at the beginning of the 1930-s, for 7 years disappeared from Moscow. Those lucky enough to go to camps. Less fortunate shot. It is strange that only I alone - who never accepted communism, despite my Soviet passport - managed to survive. ”

“At night I was tormented by longing. During the years of the purges, I did not undress until four in the morning, expecting to hear a terrible knock at the door. Every night I waited for me to come. Once in 1943, they came. I jumped out of bed and whispered: "God, have mercy on my soul!" Opened the door. Seeing my non-Russian black face, they seem embarrassed. "Sorry. The error came out, "I heard."

“I lived in the Soviet Union 7 for years before I earned the trust of at least one Russian. For all the years spent in the Soviet Union, I myself did not trust any person, even though I had many friends. In my house there were 18 apartments, in each there lived 2-3 families. Among the tenants were scammers spying on Robert Robinson. They followed my every step, eavesdropped on every word, and then reported on everything, and so day after day for many years. ”

“I was appreciated for their professional qualities, but I remained a curiosity and a potential hero of Soviet propaganda. I somehow adapted to all this. He even put up with loneliness: there was no one to warm my bed, no one to hug and call him dad. I learned to transfer almost everything. Except one. I never reconciled with racism in the Soviet Union. Racism constantly tested my patience and insulted human dignity. Since Russians boast of being free from racial prejudice, their racism is more cruel and dangerous than the one I encountered in my youth in the United States. I have rarely met a Russian who considered blacks - as well as Asians or any people with non-white skin - equal to himself. Trying to convince them is like catching a ghost. I felt their racism on the skin, but how can you deal with something that does not officially exist? ”.

“I must confess that in some respects I gained from my stay in Moscow. In the thirties in the United States I would never become a mechanical engineer because of the color of my skin. I would never have won the respect of my colleagues. Would not get a job that satisfies my creative needs. No one would recognize my professional accomplishments. In Moscow, I got the opportunity to achieve all of this. ”

“In fact, all non-Russians are considered inferior in this country. In accordance with the unofficial scale of inferiority, Armenians, Georgians and Ukrainians are better than other non-Russians. Asians from the Soviet republics - those with yellow skin and narrow eyes - are given a place at the very bottom of this scale. Black is worse. ”

“13 years have passed since I managed to escape from the USSR. Two years after my departure I had to pinch myself to make sure that I was free. It took another year for me to finally stop fearing to run up to the window in the middle of the night: I was afraid to see winter Moscow outside the window, afraid to find out that freedom had dreamed of me. ”

“If you, like me, fell to become a witness to the mass purges, you would consider, just like me, the possibility of getting a bullet in the back of the head is quite real. Although 6 years ago, I gave up Soviet citizenship, in the USSR I could still be considered a Soviet citizen, they could lay claim to me. Soviet agents could kidnap me and ship me to the USSR. It would hardly have happened to me, but such cases have happened. ”

“Soon we had to make sure that we were not only curious about passersby. We were also watched. When we returned to the hotel, three children ran up to us: they were chattering something in Russian and goggled at me.

“Uncle,” exclaimed a six-year-old girl, “how did you get so tanned ?!” Novikov first translated the question to me, and then explained to the children that I belong to a black race. Of course, this explanation had no effect. The girl ran up to me in delight, grabbed my hand and rubbed it with her palm. Seeing that her hand had not turned black, she was surprised.

“Are you so black because you do not bathe?” She asked in the most innocent tone.

“No,” Novikov explained. He was embarrassed in front of me. “This is the natural color of his skin.”

I am sure that the children did not understand what Novikov wanted to tell them. It didn’t bother me at all, because they were so ingenuous. ”

“For the first time I had the opportunity to taste borscht and okroshka at dinner. Hot borscht, I liked it. Finely chopped pieces of meat, potatoes, cabbage, onions are put into it, a little sugar is added and, already in the plate, a spoonful of sour cream. Eat soup with a thick piece of black bread; This is delicious. Okroshka, on the contrary, disgusted me. She didn’t like most other Americans. This is a thick, greenish color mixture of the juice of special leaves, tomatoes, cucumbers, vinegar and salt, in which half of a hard-boiled egg is floating. I ate one spoon and more for the 44 of the year in Russia I never ordered okroshka. ”

“Considering my successes in work, the plant administration allowed me to go to America in the summer of 1933, to see my mother. Before leaving, I was persuaded to sign another annual contract. The factory knew how I love my job, but the contract served as an additional guarantee that I would return. They correctly calculated that I would not want to stay in America in depression. It all worked out as well as possible - the only cause for concern was the sudden disappearance of several workers in our workshop. They did not say goodbye to anyone, moreover, they did not even hint that they were going to leave the factory. It happened a few weeks before my departure to the States. Disgusting rumors spread across the shop that they were arrested as enemies of the people. It was impossible to believe it: I knew these people as good specialists; It is difficult to say whether they were wholeheartedly devoted to socialism, but, no doubt, they were sympathetic towards it. In addition, among the disappeared were foreigners. ”

“Of the eight people I knew who were arrested in 1934, only one returned. Muscovites were in such fear that I could no longer visit. When they saw me on the threshold of their apartment, the owners, as a rule, politely but firmly said: “Please do not come to us!”.

Photo: Shutterstock

A familiar worker explained what was going on - it turns out that I was fortunate enough to observe democracy in action: the nomination of candidates to the Moscow City Council. At about ten o'clock another speaker came out and with a strong low voice he began to paint the disinterested contribution of another candidate to the achievements of the First Ball Bearing Plant, emphasizing that he was a wonderful inventor. Finally, after raising his voice to a crescendo, he called on the audience to support ... - here, to enhance the effect, he made a short pause - Robert Robinson. The workers applauded vigorously. Hundreds of people turned their heads in my direction: they smiled, clapped their hands, joyfully greeted me. Those who stood closer shook my hand and patted my back in a friendly way. I did not feel any joy. He stood as if struck with thunder, and thought frantically: “What have they done to me? Where am I stuck? I am an American citizen, not a politician, not a communist, I do not approve of either the Communist Party or the Soviet system. I am not an atheist and not even an agnostic, I believe in God, I pray to Him and are devoted to Him only. ” I could not believe that all this is happening in reality. Nobody discussed anything with me. Everything was decided without my consent and against my desire. Why didn't they ask me before nominating me? I would dissuade them. And what will the American government think? Because now they can make me leave work and return to the States, and there is depression. ”

“At the end of the thirties, at the end of my four-year tenure at the Moscow Council, a delegation from the factory came to my house, under the pretext of a friendly visit. They were interested in my political and religious views. On the question of whether I believe in God, I directly and fearlessly answered in the affirmative. With this, my deputieship in the Moscow Council ended. ”

“Children begin to be treated from an early age. At school, at pioneer gatherings and Komsomol meetings, they hear that the Soviet Union will surely beat America and become the most powerful country in the world. Since other points of view are not allowed, indoctrination works. Having lived in the Soviet Union 44 of the year, I can say with confidence that for a Soviet citizen belief in the future domination of the Soviet Union over the world is as natural as for an American a belief in the superiority of democracy over any other system. Russians are ready for almost any sacrifice to achieve this goal. They boast of their ability to tighten their belts and strive to do everything possible to crush the United States. ”

“In Moscow, I went to a Catholic church every Sunday, even during the war. I am not a Catholic, but the doctrine meant less to me than the opportunity to be among Christian brothers. The temple, mostly visited by foreigners, was located in the city center, opposite the KGB building. When I approached the temple or left it, I invariably saw faces of the institution in the windows of this institution. It made little difference, I got used to constant surveillance. In a sense, I was even pleased: since they are already watching me, they better know that I am a believer. It was my way of expressing my faith in the Lord and challenging the spiritual and emotional poverty that threatened to devour me. ”

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