X CONGRESS OF THE RCP(b)
REPORT ON REPLACING COMPULSORY DISTRIBUTION WITH A NATURAL TAX

15 MARCH
Comrades, the question of replacing compulsory distribution with a tax is, above all and most fundamentally, a political question—because at its core lies the relationship between the working class and the peasantry. The very formulation of this question implies that we must subject the relations between these two principal classes—whose struggle, or whose eventual accord, will determine the fate of our entire revolution—to fresh, or rather, I would say, to a more cautious and more judicious reexamination and a certain degree of revision. There is no need for me to dwell at length on the reasons behind this reconsideration. You are all, of course, well aware of how myriad events—especially in light of the extreme intensification of hardship brought about by war, devastation, demobilization, and an exceptionally severe crop failure—how these myriad circumstances have made the situation of the peasantry particularly dire, acutely fraught, and have inevitably intensified its tendency to drift away from the proletariat toward the bourgeoisie.
Let us say a few words about the theoretical significance—or, rather, the theoretical approach—to this question. There is no doubt that in a country where the vast majority of the population consists of small-scale peasant producers, a socialist revolution can be accomplished only through a series of special transitional measures that would be entirely superfluous in advanced capitalist countries, where wage laborers in industry and agriculture constitute an overwhelming majority. In developed capitalist societies, a class of hired agricultural laborers has been established over the course of decades. It is only such a class—socially, economically, and politically—that can serve as the foundation for a direct transition to socialism. Only in those countries where this class is sufficiently developed can a straightforward transition from capitalism to socialism be realized without requiring special, nationwide transitional measures. We have emphasized in numerous works, in all our public statements, and throughout the press that the situation in Russia is quite different: in Russia, we have a minority of workers in industry and a vast majority of small-scale peasants. A socialist revolution in such a country can achieve final success only under two conditions. First, it requires the timely support of a socialist revolution in one or more advanced countries. As you know, we have done much more than before to meet this condition—but far from enough to turn it into reality.
The other condition is an agreement between the proletariat, which is exercising its dictatorship or holding state power in its hands, and the majority of the rural population. Agreement is a very broad concept, encompassing a whole range of measures and transitional steps. Here, we must be utterly candid in all our propaganda and agitation. Those who understand politics merely as a collection of petty tactics, sometimes bordering on outright deception, must face the most resolute condemnation within our ranks. Their errors must be corrected. Classes cannot be deceived. Over the past three years, we have done much to raise political consciousness among the masses—and it is in the heat of acute struggle that the masses learn the most. According to our worldview, according to our decades-long revolutionary experience, and according to the lessons of our own revolution, we must pose questions directly: the interests of these two classes are distinct; the smallholder does not want what the worker wants.

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We know that only an agreement with the peasantry can save the socialist revolution in Russia—until a revolution breaks out in other countries. And so, we must speak plainly, at every meeting, in every newspaper—and we must speak frankly. We know that this agreement between the working class and the peasantry is fragile—at least, to put it mildly, without recording the word “mildly” in the official minutes—and to be blunt, it is considerably weaker than it ought to be. In any case, we must not try to hide anything; we must speak openly and honestly: the peasantry is dissatisfied with the form of relations we have established with them; they do not wish to remain bound by this particular form of relationship, nor will they continue to exist under it. This is beyond dispute. Their will has been expressed clearly—and it is the will of immense numbers of working people. We must take this into account, and we are sober enough politicians to say plainly: let us review our policies toward the peasantry. The status quo—as it has existed until now—cannot be sustained much longer.
We must tell the peasants: “If you wish to return to the past, if you wish to restore private property and free trade in their entirety, then that means you are inexorably and inevitably sliding back under the rule of landowners and capitalists. A host of historical examples—and countless revolutionary precedents—bear witness to this. Even a brief examination of the rudiments of communism, of the basics of political economy, will confirm the inevitability of this outcome. Let us examine the matter: Is it in the peasants’ best interest to part ways with the proletariat, to slide backward—and to allow the country to regress—back into the hands of capitalists and landowners? Or is it not in their best interest? Let us calculate—and let us calculate together.”
And we believe that if we calculate correctly, despite the deep-seated economic differences between the proletariat and the smallholder, the calculation will ultimately favor us.
However difficult our position may be in terms of resources, the task of satisfying the needs of the average peasant must be resolved. The peasantry has become far more

The contradictions that had previously been more pronounced have now been smoothed out; land has been distributed for use in a far more equitable manner, the kulaks have been curtailed and, in significant numbers, expropriated—more so in Russia than in Ukraine, and less so in Siberia. Yet, taken as a whole, the statistical data leave no room for doubt: the countryside has been leveled, brought into greater parity; in other words, the sharp polarization between the kulaks and the landless peasants has been blunted. Everything has become more even, and the peasantry, on the whole, has found itself in a position closer to that of the middle peasant.
Can we truly satisfy this middle peasantry as such—with its particular economic characteristics, with its deeply rooted economic foundations? If any communist ever dreamed that in just three years it would be possible to overhaul the economic base, to uproot the very economic roots of small-scale farming, then that person was, of course, a dreamer—and let’s be honest, there were quite a few such dreamers among us. And there is nothing particularly wrong with that. In a country like ours, where else could one begin a socialist revolution without dreamers? Practice, of course, has shown just how immensely important all kinds of experiments and initiatives in the realm of collective agricultural management can be. But practice has also revealed that these experiments, in and of themselves, can play a negative role—especially when well-intentioned individuals, full of good will and lofty aspirations, ventured into the countryside to establish communes and collectives, yet lacked the practical skills to manage such enterprises, precisely because they had no prior experience in collective farming. The very experience of these collective farms serves only as a cautionary example—showing us how not to manage an agricultural enterprise: the neighboring peasants either laugh at them or harbor resentment toward them.
You are well aware of how many such examples there have been. I repeat: this should come as no surprise, for the task of transforming the smallholder, of reshaping his entire psychology and his ingrained habits, is a task that requires generations. To resolve the question of the smallholder—to, so to speak, heal his entire psychological makeup—can only be achieved through a solid material foundation, through advanced technology, through the widespread adoption of tractors and machinery in agriculture, and through large-scale electrification. It is precisely these measures that, at their core and with tremendous speed, can fundamentally transform the smallholder.

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When I say that this will take generations, I do not mean that it will take centuries. You understand perfectly well that procuring tractors and machinery, and electrifying a vast country—such tasks, at the very least, require decades. This, then, is the objective reality we face.
We must strive to address the needs of those peasants who remain unsatisfied, who are dissatisfied—and rightly so—and who simply cannot be content. We must tell them: “Yes, this state of affairs cannot continue.” But how can we satisfy a peasant, and what does it truly mean to satisfy him? Where can we find the answer to the question of how to satisfy him? Of course, from the very demands of the peasantry itself. We know these demands—but we must scrutinize them, examining, from the standpoint of economic theory, everything we know about the economic needs of the farmer. As we delve into this question, we quickly realize that, in essence, there are only two ways to satisfy the smallholder. First, he needs a certain degree of freedom of circulation—freedom for the individual smallholder to engage in trade; and second, he needs access to goods and commodities. What good is freedom of circulation if there is nothing to circulate, and what good is freedom of trade if there is nothing to trade? Such freedoms will amount to little more than empty promises—after all, classes are not satisfied by mere paper; they are satisfied by tangible goods. We must grasp these two conditions thoroughly. As for the second condition—how we are to obtain goods, whether we will be able to obtain them—we will discuss that later. But let us first focus on the first condition: freedom of circulation.
So what, then, is freedom of circulation? Freedom of circulation is, in essence, freedom of trade—and freedom of trade, in turn, means a return to capitalism. Freedom of circulation and freedom of trade imply the exchange of goods between individual smallholders. All of us who have studied even the rudiments of Marxist theory know that from this very process of circulation and freedom of trade inevitably arises the division of the commodity producer into owner of capital and owner of labor power—the division into capitalist and wage laborer; in other words, the reemergence of capitalist wage slavery—not something that falls from the heavens, but something that grows across the globe precisely out of commodity-based agricultural production. We know this perfectly well in theory, and in Russia, anyone who has taken a close look at the life and economic conditions of the smallholder cannot fail to observe this reality.
One might ask: how, then, can the Communist Party possibly embrace freedom of trade, even move toward it? Are there not irreconcilable contradictions here? To this, we must respond that, of course, the practical resolution of this question is exceedingly difficult. I anticipate this in advance—and I know from conversations with comrades—that the preliminary draft proposing to replace requisitioning with taxation, the very draft you have been given, raises the most questions—legitimate and inevitable questions—about the fact that exchange is permitted only within the bounds of local economic circulation. This is stated at the end of paragraph 8. What does this mean? What are the limits of this provision? How are we to implement it? Anyone who hopes to find an answer to this question at this very congress is mistaken. We will find the answer to this question in our legislation; our task is merely to establish a principled line, to set forth a guiding slogan. Our party is a governing party, and any resolution adopted by the Party Congress will be binding upon the entire republic—and here, we must address this question in principle. We must address this question in principle, and we must inform the peasantry of this decision, for the sowing season is upon us. Then, we must mobilize our entire apparatus, all our theoretical resources, and all our practical experience—to see how this can be done. Theoretically speaking, is it possible to restore, to a certain extent, freedom of trade, freedom of capitalism for small farmers, without thereby undermining the very roots of proletarian political power? Is it possible? Yes, it is possible—provided we proceed with due measure. For if we were able to secure even a small quantity of goods and keep them in the hands of the state—in the hands of the proletariat, which wields political power—and if we could put these goods into circulation, then as a state we would…

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In addition to their political power, they had also acquired economic authority. The introduction of these goods into circulation would invigorate small-scale agriculture, which had come to a near standstill under the crushing weight of wartime hardship, ruin, and the utter impossibility of expanding smallholder farming. As long as the smallholder remains a smallholder, he must be provided with incentives, impulses, and motivations that are commensurate with his economic base—namely, the small, individual farm. One cannot simply leap beyond the bounds of local market freedom. If this circulation yields to the state, in exchange for industrial products, a minimum quantity of grain sufficient to meet the needs of the city, the factories, and industry as a whole, then economic circulation is restored in such a way that the state’s power—in the hands of the proletariat—remains intact and is further consolidated. The peasantry demands that we demonstrate, in practice, that the worker who holds factories, plants, and industry in his grasp can indeed establish a mutually beneficial exchange with the peasantry. And on the other hand, a vast agricultural country—with poor transportation networks, immense expanses of land, diverse climates, varied agricultural conditions, and so forth—inevitably requires a certain degree of freedom in the circulation of local agriculture and local industry within local markets. In this regard, we have erred grievously by going too far: we pushed the path of nationalizing trade and industry—and of closing off local markets—to an extreme. Was this a mistake? Undoubtedly.
In this respect, we have made many outright errors, and it would be the greatest crime not to recognize and understand that we failed to observe the proper measures, that we did not know how to implement them. Yet there was also a compelling necessity at play: until now, we had lived under conditions of a frenzied, unprecedentedly brutal war, during which, in the economic sphere as well, we had no choice but to act in a manner consistent with military exigencies. It was nothing short of a miracle that a devastated nation could endure such a war—and this miracle did not fall from the heavens; rather, it arose from the economic interests of the working class and the peasantry, who, through their mass mobilization, brought this miracle into being.

Through this miracle, resistance was forged against the landlords and capitalists. But at the same time, it is an undeniable fact—and one that need not be concealed in agitation or propaganda—that we went further than was theoretically or politically necessary. We can, to a considerable extent, permit free local circulation without undermining, but instead strengthening, the political power of the proletariat. How this is to be accomplished is a matter of practical implementation. My task is to demonstrate to you that, in theory, this is entirely feasible. For the proletariat, which holds state power in its hands, if it possesses any resources whatsoever, it is perfectly possible to put those resources into circulation and thereby achieve a measure of satisfaction for the average peasant, satisfying him on the basis of local economic activity.
Now, a few words about local economic circulation. Before I proceed, I must touch upon the question of cooperation. Of course, in the context of local economic circulation, we need cooperation—which, in our current situation, has been subjected to excessive suppression. Our program emphasizes that the best mechanism for distribution is the cooperative system left over from capitalism, and that this apparatus must be preserved. This is stated in the program. Have we fulfilled this obligation? Very inadequately—and in some cases, not at all, again partly due to error, and partly because of wartime necessity. By emphasizing more economically advanced, higher-performing elements, cooperation, in the political arena, tended to favor the Mensheviks and Socialist Revolutionaries. Such is the law of chemistry—there is nothing we can do about it! (Laughter.) The Mensheviks and Socialist Revolutionaries are individuals who, consciously or unconsciously, seek to restore capitalism and aid Yudenich. This too is a law of nature. We must fight against them. When we fight, we must fight in a military manner: we were obliged to defend ourselves, and we did defend ourselves. But can we remain forever bound by the status quo? No. To tie our own hands in this way would undoubtedly be a mistake. That is why, on the question of cooperation, I propose a resolution that is exceedingly brief—and I shall now read it:
“In view of the fact that the resolution of the IX Congress of the RCP concerning its attitude toward cooperation was entirely based on the recognition of the principle of— X CONGRESS OF THE RCP(b)
the requisition system, which is now being replaced by the tax in kind, the X Congress of the RCP resolves:
To revoke the aforementioned resolution.
The Congress instructs the Central Committee to formulate and implement, in both party and Soviet organs, resolutions that will improve and develop the structure and activities of cooperatives in accordance with the program of the RCP and in light of the replacement of the requisition system with the tax in kind.” 30.
You may say that this is vague. Yes, and it should remain, to a certain extent, vague. Why is this necessary? Because to be completely precise, we would have to know exactly what we intend to do for the entire year. Who knows that? No one knows—and no one can know.
But the resolution of the IX Congress ties our hands; it states: “subordinate to Komprod.” Komprod is an excellent institution—but to subordinate cooperation to it and to bind our own hands when we reassess our relations with small farmers is, politically speaking, a clear mistake. We must entrust the newly elected Central Committee with the task of developing and establishing specific measures and adjustments, of carefully evaluating the steps forward and backward we take—of determining to what extent we ought to proceed, how to balance political interests, how much leeway to grant in order to ease the burden, and how to assess the results of our experiments. From a theoretical standpoint, we find ourselves facing a series of transitional stages and transitional measures. One thing is clear to us: the resolution of the IX Congress assumed that our movement would proceed along a straight line. As has consistently proven true throughout the history of revolutions, however, our movement has followed a zigzag path. To bind our hands with such a resolution is a political error. By revoking it, we affirm that we must be guided by the program, which underscores the importance of the cooperative apparatus.
By revoking the resolution, we say: adapt to the replacement of requisition with taxation. But when will we carry this out? Not before the harvest—meaning, only in several months’ time. Will the outcome be the same in every region? Not at all… dialectics
In this instance, to attempt to standardize Central Russia, Ukraine, and Siberia according to some preconceived template would be the height of folly. I propose that we enshrine this fundamental principle—namely, the freedom of local circulation—in a resolution adopted at the 31st Congress. I envision that in the days immediately following, the Central Committee will issue a letter stating—and, of course, it will articulate this better than I can now (we will find far more skilled writers to craft such a document)—that we must not break anything, not rush headlong into hasty decisions, not seek to outsmart the situation; rather, we should act in such a way as to maximize satisfaction for the middle peasantry without undermining the interests of the proletariat. Let us experiment with this approach, then that one; let us learn through practical experience, and once we have gathered sufficient data, share our findings with us and tell us what has worked—and we, in turn, will establish a special commission, or even several commissions, tasked with systematically analyzing the accumulated experience. I believe we should specifically enlist the expertise of Comrade Preobrazhensky, author of the book “Paper Money in the Era of the Proletarian Dictatorship.” This question is of paramount importance, for monetary circulation is a powerful barometer of a country’s economic health: when monetary flows are misaligned, money itself becomes little more than useless paper. To proceed on the basis of concrete experience, we must rigorously test each measure we adopt—ten times over, if necessary.
We will soon be confronted with a pressing question: where are we to obtain the goods? After all, the freedom of trade demands goods—and peasants, though often underestimated, are remarkably astute and adept at finding ways to outwit even the most well-intentioned policies. Can we secure the goods we need? We can now, for our economic position on the global stage has improved immeasurably. We have been waging a relentless struggle against international capital, which, upon seeing our republic, declared: “These are bandits, crocodiles!” (These words were literally conveyed to me by an English artist who had heard this very phrase from one of the most influential political figures.) 32 And if they are crocodiles, then they deserve nothing but scorn. That was the voice of international capital—a voice that echoed the sentiments of our class enemy, and from their perspective, it was entirely justified. Yet, in truth— X CONGRESS OF THE RCP(b)
The validity of such conclusions must be tested in practice. If you are a global, all-powerful force—international capital—if you brandish the label “crocodile” while holding absolute control over every aspect of the economy, then go ahead and try to shoot me down! But when he did so, he discovered that the blow landed far more painfully upon himself. It was then that capital, forced to reckon with the realities of political and economic life, finally conceded: “We must engage in trade.” This marks our greatest victory. Let me tell you now that we have two loan offers totaling roughly one hundred million in gold. We do possess gold—but gold cannot simply be sold, for it is a commodity that cannot be eaten. The devastation wrought by war has left nearly every nation in a state of financial ruin; the currency relationships among capitalist states have been utterly overturned, rendered almost unrecognizable in the wake of the conflict. Moreover, to maintain commercial ties with Europe, we require a navy—and we do not possess one. Our navy lies in the hands of hostile powers. We have yet to conclude a formal treaty with France; indeed, France regards us as its debtor—and thus, any vessel that approaches our shores is met with the stern declaration: “You’re welcome—this ship belongs to me.” They have a formidable naval fleet; we do not. Such is the predicament in which we have long found ourselves, able to realize only a paltry sum of gold—so small, so insignificant as to border on the ridiculous. Now, however, we have received two offers from capitalist bankers seeking to secure a loan of one hundred million. Of course, these lenders will demand exorbitant interest rates. Yet until now, they had never spoken of such terms; instead, they had always declared: “I’ll shoot you dead—and take your gold for free.” But now, since they can no longer resort to violence, they are willing to negotiate. Trade agreements with America and Britain are, one might say, within reach—and concessions, too. Yesterday, I received another letter from Mr. Vanderlip, who is currently residing here. Alongside a host of grievances, he outlined a series of proposals concerning both concessions and the loan itself. He represents the most predatory form of financial capital, closely aligned with the western states of North America—states that harbor a particularly fierce hostility toward Japan. Thus, we now possess the economic capacity to procure the goods we need. How we will accomplish this remains a separate question—but the possibility is certainly there.

Let me reiterate: the type of economic relationship that, at its apex, forms a symbiotic bond with foreign capitalism will enable the proletarian state to foster free circulation with the peasantry below. I know—I have said this before—that this notion has drawn its fair share of ridicule. In Moscow, there exists an entire stratum of intellectual-bureaucratic elites who strive to shape public opinion. They began to mock: “So this is what communism looks like! It’s as if a man were walking on crutches, his face completely wrapped in bandages, leaving behind nothing more than a cryptic image of what communism ought to be.” I have heard plenty of such jokes—but these are either bureaucratic quips or mere frivolous jests! Russia emerged from the war in a condition so dire that it bore the closest resemblance to a person beaten nearly to death: seven long years of relentless assault, and now, if we are lucky, we can barely manage to shuffle along on crutches! This is the state we find ourselves in! To imagine that we could somehow escape without those crutches is to misunderstand the very nature of our circumstances. As long as revolutions remain absent in other countries, we would be required to endure decades of hardship—and in that time, we should not begrudge the sacrifice of hundreds of millions, perhaps even billions, from our vast reserves of wealth, from our rich veins of raw materials, all in order to secure the aid of advanced, leading-edge capitalism. We shall more than repay that investment many times over. To sustain proletarian power in a nation that has been utterly devastated, where the peasantry—equally impoverished—still constitutes the overwhelming majority, without the support of capital—capital that, of course, will exact interest rates measured in the hundreds of percent—is simply impossible. This must be understood. Therefore, we have but two choices: either embrace this particular model of economic relations—or abandon the endeavor altogether. Those who frame the question otherwise demonstrate an utter lack of practical understanding in economics, contenting themselves with idle jibes and clever retorts. We must acknowledge the undeniable fact of mass exhaustion and profound fatigue. Seven years of war—how could they not leave their mark on us, especially when four years of war in the most advanced nations still cast their lingering shadows over those lands?!
And here, in our backward nation, after seven long years of conflict, the workers are literally consumed by exhaustion, X CONGRESS OF THE RCP(b)
which have exacted unprecedented sacrifices, and among the mass of peasants. This exhaustion—this condition—is close to complete inability to work. Here, an economic respite is urgently needed. We had planned to allocate our gold reserves to the means of production. The best course would be to manufacture machinery; yet even if we were to purchase such machinery, we would thereby be laying the foundations for our own industrial development. But for that, we need workers—and we need peasants who are capable of working; yet in most cases, they simply cannot work: they are utterly depleted, utterly worn out. We must support them; we must direct our gold reserves toward consumer goods, contrary to our earlier program. Our previous program was theoretically sound, but in practice it proved untenable. I will now present a report I have received from Comrade Lezhava. From this report, we learn that several hundred thousand poods of various foodstuffs have already been purchased and are being dispatched with the utmost urgency from Lithuania, Finland, and Latvia. Today, we received news that a deal has been signed in London for 18.5 million poods of coal—which we resolved to acquire in order to revitalize Petrograd’s industries, particularly its textile sector. If we can provide goods to the peasant, this will, of course, constitute a departure from our program; it will be a deviation, a mistake—but we must grant a respite, for the people are so overtaxed that they are otherwise incapable of working.
I must say a few more words about individual commodity exchange. When we speak of freedom of circulation, we mean individual commodity exchange—that is, we mean encouraging the kulaks. So what is to be done? We must not close our eyes to the fact that replacing requisitioning with tax-based collection will lead to the further growth of the kulak class within our existing social order—indeed, to a greater extent than ever before. It will flourish where it could not previously flourish. But we should not combat this phenomenon through prohibitive measures; rather, we must rely on state-level coordination and state-sponsored interventions from above. If you can provide the peasantry with machinery, you will lift their lot—and when you supply them with machines or electrification, then tens or hundreds of thousands of small kulaks will be eliminated. Until you can do that, first, provide a certain quantity of goods. If you hold the goods in your hands, you hold the power—but to halt, to suppress, to dismiss such a possibility altogether means to strip away every avenue of exchange; it means failing to satisfy the middle peasantry, and without doing so, it will be impossible to coexist with them. In Russia, the proportion of middle peasants has grown, and there is no need to fear that exchange will become individualized. Everyone will be able to offer something to the state in exchange. One may contribute surplus grain; another may offer garden produce; a third may render labor service. The fundamental situation is this: we must economically satisfy the middle peasantry and move toward freedom of circulation—otherwise, it will be impossible to preserve the power of the proletariat in Russia, especially as the international revolution slows down; economically speaking, it is simply not feasible. We must recognize this clearly and have no fear whatsoever in speaking openly about it. In the draft resolution on replacing requisitioning with a natural tax (the text has been distributed to you), you will notice numerous inconsistencies and contradictions; that is why we concluded by stating: “The Congress, while generally approving (a word that is both highly evocative and deeply significant) the provisions submitted by the Central Committee regarding the replacement of requisitioning with a natural tax, instructs the Party’s Central Committee to coordinate these provisions as soon as possible.”33 We know that these provisions were never fully coordinated—we did not have time to complete that task; we did not delve into the detailed work of fleshing out the specifics. The All‑Russian Central Executive Committee and the Council of People’s Commissars will elaborate the practical forms of implementing the tax and enact the corresponding law. The plan was as follows: if you adopt this draft today, it will be enacted at the very first session of the VTsIK, which will issue not a law per se, but merely a revised set of regulations; thereafter, the Sovnarkom and the Council of Labor and Defense will transform those regulations into law—and, even more importantly, they will issue practical guidelines. What matters is that local authorities grasp the significance of this measure and meet us halfway.
Why did we need to replace requisitioning with tax? Requisitioning entailed seizing all surplus produce and establishing a mandatory state monopoly. We had no other choice; we were in dire straits. Theoretically, it is not necessarily true that— X CONGRESS OF THE RCP(b) 71
that a state monopoly is the optimal arrangement from a socialist perspective. As a transitional measure in a predominantly agrarian country—where industry is already in operation, and where some goods are available—it is quite feasible to implement a system of taxation and free circulation.
This very mechanism of circulation serves as a stimulus, a motivator, a driving force for the peasant. The farmer can—and indeed must—strive for his own self‑interest, for he will not have all his surplus seized; instead, only a tax will be levied, one that, whenever possible, should be determined in advance. The key is to provide the smallholder with the incentive, the motivation, the impetus to improve his farming practices. We must build our national economy in accordance with the economic realities of the middle peasantry—a class we have been unable to reshape in three years, and one we will likely not fully transform for another decade.
The state faced a specific food‑supply obligation. That is why our requisitioning quotas were increased last year. The tax, however, must be lower. The exact figures remain uncertain—and in truth, they cannot be precisely determined. In Popov’s pamphlet, “Grain Production in the Soviet Union and the Federated Republics,” we find data compiled by our Central Statistical Office, offering precise figures and illuminating the underlying causes behind the decline in agricultural output.
If there is a poor harvest, we cannot seize surplus produce—because there will be no surplus to take. To do so would mean taking food right from the mouths of the peasants themselves. But if the harvest is bountiful, then everyone will experience a slight shortage, and the state will be saved—though if we fail to secure enough from those who cannot afford to eat their fill, the state will perish. Such is the task of our propaganda efforts among the peasantry. With a decent harvest, surplus grain can reach as much as half a billion poods—enough to cover consumption needs and leave a considerable reserve. The whole point is to give peasants the economic incentives they need to thrive. We must tell the smallholder: “You, as a farmer, produce your crops; the state, in turn, collects only a minimal tax.”
My time is running out—I must conclude. I repeat: we cannot issue a law at this time. Our lack… 
The resolution, however, is not overly legislative—in a party congress, laws are not written. Therefore, we propose adopting the Central Committee’s resolution as a basis and entrusting it with the task of harmonizing its provisions. We will print the text of this resolution, and local workers will endeavor to refine and correct it. It is impossible to harmonize it completely—this is an insoluble task, for life itself is far too diverse. To seek transitional measures is an exceedingly difficult undertaking. If we fail to accomplish this swiftly and straightforwardly, we must not lose heart; we will still secure what is ours. Any reasonably conscious peasant cannot fail to understand that we, as the government, represent the working class and those toiling masses with whom the toiling peasants—nine-tenths of them—can identify. Any retreat would mean a return to the old, tsarist regime. The Kronstadt experience bears this out: there, the people do not want the White Guards, nor do they want our authority—and since there is no other authority available—they find themselves in a position that serves as the most effective propaganda both for us and against any new government. We now have the opportunity to come to terms with the peasants, and this must be carried out in practice, skillfully, with foresight and flexibility. We know the Comrade Production apparatus; we know that it is one of our finest organs. When we compare it with others, we see that it is the best—indeed, it must be preserved—but the apparatus must be subordinated to policy. What good is the finest Comrade Production apparatus if we cannot establish proper relations with the peasants? Then that magnificent apparatus will serve not our class, but Denikin and Kolchak. When policy demands decisive change, flexibility, and skillful transitions, leaders must grasp this truth. A firm apparatus must be capable of adapting to all manner of maneuvers. But if the apparatus’s rigidity turns into ossification, obstructing necessary shifts, then conflict becomes inevitable. Therefore, we must devote all our efforts to ensuring that we unconditionally achieve our goals—to bring the apparatus fully into line with policy. Policy is the relationship between classes—it is policy that determines the fate of the republic. The apparatus, as a subsidiary

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tool, the firmer it is, the better it is—and the more suited it becomes for maneuvering. But if it proves incapable of fulfilling this role, then it is fit for nothing at all.
I urge you to bear in mind the fundamental point: detailed elaboration and interpretation are tasks that may take several months. For now, however, we must focus on the essential: we need to ensure that, by evening, word of what has been adopted is broadcast over the radio to every corner of the world—that the congress of the governing party is, in essence, replacing requisitioning with taxation, thereby offering a host of incentives for small farmers to expand their operations and increase their sown areas. By embarking on this path, the congress is correcting the system of relations between the proletariat and the peasantry, while expressing confidence that this approach will foster a lasting bond between the proletariat and the peasantry. (Stormy applause.)
“Pravda,” No. 57, and “Izvestia VTsIK,” No. 57, March 16, 1921.