“WORLD The Soviet battle against alcoholism Spring has come to this city unexpectedly early this year, and Muscovites have responded by taking to the Streets. Afternoon finds them promenading en masse in Kalinin Prospect, or thronging the Arbat pedestrian Mall. Often the purpose seems merely to get out of doors after a long, grey winter. Many just linger over coffee and hot buns, or eat shashlik purchased from one of the Tew street vendors, and soak up the unaccustomed Sunshine. By all accounts it has been a relatively mild winter. And this is not only an allusion to weather: economic Teforms percolating through the economy have begun to €ase perennial problems of supply and distribution. Fresh fruits and vegetables have been available all winter in unprecedented quantities, thanks in part to the “yarmaki”’ (farmers fairs) and other innovations which have been introduced to cut out middlemen and get Produce directly to the consumers. When one sees a substantial line-up in Moscow these days, nine times out of ten it is for booze. Draconian Measures put into effect two years ago — the famous ‘anti-alcohol drive’ — dramatically slashed production Bevapor and wines and severely restricted distribution of them. The people who stand in line for Vodka tend to be surly, displaying little patience usually associated with . shopping in Moscow. Distilling of spirits in the USSR has been cut by over - 25 per cent, while more than 130,000 liquor stores have been closed or converted to other uses. Business hours of the remaining outlets have been sharply curtailed. One result has been these long lines for vodka. Also, the people who stand in them tend to be surly, displaying little of the patience and even good cheer with which Muscovites customarily face the inconveniences of shopping in this city. There is a joke about those line-ups — in the Soviet Union there is a joke for everything — which runs some- thing like this: A bus pulls up to a stop, the driver turns and announces: ‘‘Liquor store. Next stop, end of the queue’’. Despite many predictions that the anti-alcohol drive Would peter out, and much grumbling in the ranks, the Soviet leadership has shown no sign of backing down on this point after two years. ‘ Alcoholism is an age-old curse in Russia. Like many Problems in the contemporary USSR, it has its roots in the rural village life from which most modern Soviets are Only one or two generations removed. Long, cold win- Moscow Fred Weir ters, isolation and boredom created the conditions for it. Today the habit persists, along with a general ethos that equates hard-drinking with manliness. In today’s life, however, the problem has acquired new urgency. It is simply not possible to build the sophis- ticated economy and participatory political culture which Soviet leaders envisage, unless the scourge of drunkenness can be eliminated. Although exact figures are not available, it is clear that over the past decades the USSR has suffered one of the highest rates of male alcoholism in the world. One of the most jarring indica- tions of this is the fact that life expectancy for Soviet men actually began to decline during the 1970’s. Sociologists tell an alarming story of drink-related job absenteeism, accidents and public disorder. Many other social problems frequently turn up with alcoholism as an aggravating factor: crime, the soaring divorce rate, fam- ily violence, etc. Medical costs may be incalculable. It is in this context that the Soviet leadership decided to make war on alcoholism two years ago. In addition to drastically curtailing liquor supplies, they authorized a crackdown on public drunkenness, and launched a major educational campaign — aimed particularly at the young — designed to change attitudes and create a social cli- mate that discourages heavy drinking. They are also trying to find alternatives to offer people in the form of new recreational facilities, more dis- cotheques, cafes, and so on. Some reasonably good brands of non-alcoholic drinks have begun to appear on the market. These are intended for the many traditional celebrations, which everybody loves, but which often turn into extended drinking bouts. Bearing such names as ‘‘surprise cocktail’’, they have the look, taste and pop of champagne but, of course, with no surprises. Results are so far hard to gauge, but some things are . apparent. Public drunkenness — once commonplace — has virtually disappeared. The Soviet mortality rate is falling for the first time in a long while, and enthusiasts attribute this happy trend to the anti-alcohol drive, al- though the reasons are probably more complex. One statistic, however, does speak clearly: job related in- juries resulting in death fell by 33 per cent in 1986 as against 1984. This dramatic improvement is almost cer- tainly due, in large measure, to the tough new strictures against liquor and drunkenness in the workplace. NbAHCTBO BEET f PACNARY CEMbE Soviet poster against alcohol abuse. It reads ‘Drunken- ness leads to broken homes.’ Soviets are gradually getting used to the idea that vodka will be far more expensive and much less acces- sible than was the case in the past. Nevertheless, con- troversy continues. Moderate drinkers complain that it is they, and not the problem drinkers, who are penalized by the restriction of supplies. Alcoholics will stand in the line-ups to get their bottles, but those who would just like a glass of wine with their dinner, or want to throw the occasional party, have to face an appalling grind. Moderate drinkers complain that it is they and not the problem drinkers who are penalized by the restrictions . Some say that the disappearance of booze has merely led desperate people to resort to different things, such as drugs, solvents or after-shave. Others respond that there has been no appreciable increase in such problems, but that Glasnost and a new social awareness have simply brought them into the open for the first time. The majority of people appear to agree that something had to be done. Some dispute the methods, which are indeed tough. The most passionate supporters of the anti-alcohol drive seem to be Soviet women, who display an amazing degree of unanimity on the subject. Perhaps the most hopeful piece of news is that surveys of Soviet youth show them to be increasingly indifferent to the bottle and aware that in the modern world one needs to make a clear and decisive choice between drink and career. New technology — without unemployment By G. VAN HOUTEN When it comes to the new tech- Nologies, the only thing that the steel Industries in Canada and the GDR have common is the aim of substantially MCcreasing productivity. But who benefits from the introduction of new technology is entirely different in » “Ne two countries. In Canada, new technology is con- trolled by the monopolies. They use 'echnology to increase profits, get rid of Workers and put pressure ‘on those who are left to make concessions. Since 1981, for example, Stelco has *!minated 5,500 jobs and plans to elim- wate about 1,000 more. On the other and, vastly improved productivity has ©wed Stelco to maintain production arcs and provided the company, and €rs in this industry, with high profits. In the GDR, on the other hand, grow- 8 productivity never leads to employment. . . US reporter had the opportunity to “Sit the Brandenburg Steel Works which employs 9,300 workers including many women. In particular, this reporter toured the plant’s computer-run continuous casting smelting and rolling mill. It produces steel rods, wire and other small steel products in an almost uninterrupted pro- cess starting with scrap steel and ending with finished products. Sac The mill began its modernization in 1979 and completed the process in 1986. As a result, production increased from 260,000 tons a year in 1981 to 700,000 tons in 1986. In both years, the number of workers stayed at a steady 360. That is a productivity increase of two and a half times in six years. I spoke with two young workers dur- ing my tour of the smelting and rolling mill. I asked them if the workers feared unemployment due to the introduction of the new technology. including robots. Joerg Liedemann, who is also the secre- tary of the SED party branch in this mill, replied: “We have no problem. 2 are not thrown out of work. These tech- nologies are introduced in such a way that no one loses his job.”’ Bernd Puchert, who is also chairman of the metallurgical union’s organization in the mill, agreed wholeheartedly. Workers who worked in the pre-1981 years were either retrained at the enter- prise’s expense or given another job elsewhere in the plant with no reduction in their pay if the job they accept is nor- mally lower paid than the one they left. As arule, GDR workers are trained to do two jobs so that if one is eliminated by modernization and rationalization he can usually fall back on his other skill. Both young workers emphatically- supported the efforts of the SED-led government to increase productivity through the introduction of new tech- nology. They gave three reasons. Firstly, it is the policy of the govern- ment and state-owned enterprises that increases in productivity must be reflect- ed in more real pay and social benefits. For example, in addition to their 26-week pregnancy leave at full pay at the government’s expense, the young mother is allowed to take another full year at 90 per cent of her pay to take care of her child. A third child entitles the woman to take a year and a half. Secondly, computerization and the use of robots has considerably reduced the amount of hard manual labor that has to be done. The emphasis is increasingly on mental labor thus requiring higher qualifications. To achieve this, the work- ers are given an education and training which is entirely at the company’s ex- pense. Thirdly, the new technology is used to vastly improve working conditions. There is nothing wrong with the new technologies. It largely depends on who is using it for what purpose. In the GDR, workers do not hesitate to welcome it because they know it will make their life easier by improving working conditions and raising living standards. Gerry Van Houten is Tribune correspond- ent in the German Democratic Republic. PACIFIC TRIBUNE, MARCH 25, 1987 e 5