Chapter 242
Chapter 242
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Chapter 242 - 국채
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Translator: crow
Chapter: 242 Government Bonds
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Khrushchev's agricultural focus policy in the Soviet Union achieved massive success in 1961.
The Soviet Union's grain production that year hit 150 million tons, a figure unprecedented in Soviet history.
Even more encouraging was that over 40% of this—70 million tons—came from the virgin lands of Siberia and Kazakhstan.
The key factors behind this success could be summed up as ample chemical fertilizer supplies, selection of crops suited to the climate, introduction of new varieties, and proper farming techniques.
Building on this triumph, Khrushchev declared his ambition for another Great Leap Forward in agriculture that year.
"We've achieved not just self-sufficiency in wheat, but even exports. Next up is livestock."
Of course, Khrushchev hadn't forgotten Lee Sung-jun's advice.
'If it's tough to grow feed corn on the virgin lands, why not grow it in the black soil regions?'
It was a logical enough thought.
No voices of opposition arose against Khrushchev's Great Leap Forward plan.
His agricultural policies had been so successful that voicing dissent was no easy matter.
With the Party and military both silent, Khrushchev pushed ahead with his grand plan: corn in Ukraine, wheat in Kazakhstan and Siberia.
"Pardon? Corn instead of wheat?"
"The Party says we need corn to raise pigs and cattle."
For that reason, southern Ukraine unexpectedly found itself planting cornfields.
This Soviet Great Leap Forward astonished the world.
Soviet authorities kept announcing projected harvest figures, boasting endlessly about the monumental achievements they would reap.
"An increase of five million tons is the bare minimum."
The Soviets' bold claims put the United States on edge.
"The Soviets' agricultural surge—isn't this just hype?"
"Our intelligence sources say it's very likely real."
"Grain prices are gonna tank."
Washington agonized over whether to intervene aggressively in the markets to defend grain prices come fall.
The grain companies were wrestling with the same dilemma.
"Those damn commie bastards. Don't they know supply and demand curves? If they flood the market like that, who's gonna protect prices?"
Naturally, those on the buying end welcomed the production surge.
"Now we're finally living like humans."
To back this aggressive agricultural push, the Soviets pursued reforms.
"From now on, we'll split the oblast Party committees—equivalent to provinces—into separate industrial and agricultural committees."
"Pardon?"
These two committees would be equals, with no hierarchy between them.
"Come on, you need to set who's boss so we know who gives the orders."
One more measure was added.
"Stagnant water breeds corruption. So now, we'll yank the chairs out from under all the high performers."
Khrushchev mandated rotating one-third of the members in every committee, from local to central levels.
This was a reform slipped in to infuse fresh blood and check the conservatives.
"Does that mean we could get booted too?"
Even Khrushchev's supporters found it hard to embrace the reform wholeheartedly.
Undeterred by the uneasy mood, Khrushchev maintained that success would resolve everything.
"Our agriculture can't fail."
As always, agriculture would reward him this time too with bountiful results to silence the opposition.
Khrushchev was confident of victory.
But Khrushchev had overlooked one crucial fact.
Farming didn't always go smoothly.
In years struck by harsh natural disasters, even with ample seeds, fertilizer, and pesticides, crops could fail.
Regrettably, most Soviet land wasn't the blessed kind that guaranteed steady yields even through calamities.
That summer of 1962, an unusually scorching sun beat down on southern Soviet lands.
Not a drop of rain fell.
Even the morning dew was nowhere to be found, no matter how hard you looked.
Ukraine, at least, was better off with its abundant water.
It had massive sources like the Dnieper River that wouldn't dry up even in drought.
Dams and other infrastructure were well-developed too.
But Kazakhstan and southern Siberia were a different story.
The rivers there were mostly seasonal streams that dried up without rain.
Proper rivers could be counted on one hand, and few even had dams.
Months of drought left the newly plowed virgin lands parched on the surface.
The crops were beyond saving.
"All we've got are empty husks. This harvest is a bust."
Faced with this disaster of a drought, the Soviets were powerless.
The center dispatched water trucks to the virgin lands and scrambled desperately, but they couldn't save tens of millions of hectares.
The bone-dry soils quickly turned to desert, kicking up dust everywhere.
That choking dust cloud devastated even the relatively intact fields in moments.
The Soviet government reeled at the plummeting harvest projections.
"Already, 6 million hectares lost. We won't salvage 7 million hectares from southern Siberia and Kazakhstan this year."
"What?"
Khrushchev was horrified by the catastrophe.
Only 14% salvaged from over 50 million hectares of farmland?
What about wheat?
What would become of the federation's wheat?
Khrushchev felt the world go dark.
Word of the dire agricultural crisis spread instantly through Party central.
"That bald-headed fool Khrushchev strutted around like he owned the place, and now he's about to ruin the whole federation."
The killer blow was the lack of wheat to feed the people right away.
If they'd planted wheat in Ukraine, maybe—but southern Ukraine was packed with corn.
Try feeding the people livestock feed like corn, and just imagine what they'd think.
Soviet politicians sensed this would be a fatal hit to Khrushchev.
'That bald prick's been pissing us off with his purges and reforms, acting like king shit.'
But no one showed their hand yet.
It wasn't time.
They could wait until it all blew up in public and his support cratered.
Khrushchev's rivals held their breath, but the General Secretary had already picked up on the warning signs.
"We need to secure food before it's too late."
"Easier said than done."
The Soviets' top-secret intel had long since leaked to the West.
Grain majors chattered excitedly about the Soviet collapse and jacked up prices.
"Those commie idiots thought farming was a cakewalk? This is the real world."
Khrushchev instantly grasped that reaching out to the international grain market would gnaw the federation to the bone.
"What about approaching Korea?"
Korea.
Not entirely trustworthy, but the only country where the federation could hope for friendly dealings.
After hesitating, Khrushchev picked up the phone.
"Prime Minister, it's Nikita."
"Comrade General Secretary. What brings you?"
Khrushchev decided to swallow his pride.
The federation's plight was too desperate for posturing.
"As you must know, our agriculture is heading for disaster. In the name of the long friendship between our federation and Korea, could you help us out just this once?"
Lee Sung-jun didn't reply right away.
The wait felt endless.
After eons—or mere seconds—he responded.
"Very well. We'll help. How much do you need?"
Khrushchev stated the required grain amount.
"1.5 billion bushels."
1.5 billion bushels could feed 240 million people.
Enough, in theory, to sustain the entire Soviet Union.
"We'll deliver by September."
Those words felt like salvation to Khrushchev.
"Thank you. Thank you, sir."
Lee Sung-jun's promise halted the grain price spike.
"Is this for real? Handing grain to dying commies?"
With Korea propping up the Soviets, America naturally wasn't thrilled.
Korea launched a PR offensive.
"If those commies starve to death, they'll lash out with war in desperation—who's gonna deal with that mess?"
Grain wasn't even on COCOM's export restriction list anyway.
Still, the deal irked America's hawks.
"Come to think of it, Korea's been poking our nerves one too many times. Time to put those bastards in their place."
America's hawks made no secret of their irritation with Korea.
Pyongyang didn't see it as a big deal.
'The American hawks in the military won't push disarmament anyway—so what if they're wary of us?'
As long as the commies didn't collapse, the Soviets remained the hawks' main enemy.
In that light, aiding Moscow was perfectly logical for Pyongyang.
Of course, aid was aid, and business was business.
In payment for the massive grain shipment to the Soviets, Korea demanded Soviet government bonds.
"Government bonds? You mean our federation's bonds?"
"Issue them if you don't have any."
"Ah, understood."
For 1.5 billion bushels of grain, the Soviets handed over $6.5 billion in bonds.
Considering wheat normally went for about $2 per bushel, it was an unimaginable sum.
'They call it $6.5 billion, but the Soviets will never repay those bonds.'
Moscow had never handled that much cash in its life.
In other words, the moment they issued the bonds, the Soviets were on a leash to Korea.
Unless they planned to default, Moscow would have to watch Korea's mood.
"Now we can finally trust Moscow a bit."
Korea's veteran politician savored his regained upper hand after two decades and cracked a smile.