Mongolia and City on the Steppes (Unseen Mongolia Documentary)

The Mongolian People's Republic, often known as Outer Mongolia, is at an important stage of its transformation. Once a country dominated by nomadic herdsmen, it's now becoming a self-sufficient agricultural and industrial nation. Our second film, like the first, was made with the help of Professor Owen Latimore, the Western expert on Mongolia. As our advisor, he helped us negotiate an agreement with the Mongolians to make our films. This agreement made it clear that whilst we could use our own cameraman and sound recordist, we would always be accompanied by an interpreter and a television organiser, who would supervise both the subject matter and the shots we took. Since we were the first Western television team to be allowed into Mongolia to make films, the Mongolian side was extremely anxious that we should present the best possible image of their country. This film was the result of two journeys we made with Professor Latimore, the first in the summer of 1974 and the second in the following winter. The Mongolian People's Republic began with the revolution of 1921. The population is a little less than one and a half million, of whom a quarter live in the capital city of Ulaanbaatar. Lenin himself, in the early 1920s, drafted a theory of how pre-capitalistic countries could reach socialism without going through the capitalist stage if they leaned on the support of an advanced country, which Lenin intended to make out of Russia. And there was an interview between Lenin and some Mongol representatives in which he spoke of the methods by which this theory could be specifically applied to Mongolia. And for more than 50 years, the Mongols have followed that course. They're extremely proud of it, that they are the oldest example of this Leninist theory. It's just 30 years since I first visited the city of Ulaanbaatar. That was in 1944, during the war, and almost none of the modern buildings you see today were here at that time. The reason for a city here at all is historically very interesting. The old name that you find in the travel books is Urga, which is a foreign mispronunciation of a Mongol word meaning residence. It was because it was the residence of the greatest of the so-called living Buddhas of Mongolia. Now, as with all the other great monasteries, as soon as there was a fixed center, a small Chinese trading settlement grew up close to it. The church, in fact, could be called a kind of clerical feudalism. It owned lands, it owned herds and flocks, and these were tended for the temple monasteries by serfs, who were bound to the land, were not allowed to leave the jurisdiction of the church. Consequently, when Mongolia attempted and achieved a partial independence in 1911, and finally achieved real independence in the revolution of 1921, the question of church and state became extremely important. The Mongols moved in a way curiously similar to that of Henry VIII in England. That is, instead of suppressing religion as such, they expropriated the monastery lands, and the church, once it was impoverished, had no more power. Of course, as always happens in revolution, there was a period of violence and excess. One has only to look at the old abbeys of England to realize the similar cultural loss to England from similar policies. But, as things are now, there is one monastery still functioning in Ulaanbaatar, and, remarkable to note, maintained by state subsidy. A good deal more than 40 years now since I saw for the first time a Nardum, or great public festival of games, horse racing, wrestling, and so on. The continuation of these traditions, transformed into celebrations of anniversaries of the republic, anniversaries of the revolution, is a most interesting aspect of Mongol life today. Wrestlers are presented as winners by heralds who still use the traditional forms of chanting. There is a particular kind of singing that is supposed to encourage and strengthen the spirit of the horse before the child riders go out to start the race. The classical distance for an important horse race is 18 to 20 miles. The jockeys are young, very young. In fact, the retiring age for a jockey is 10 or 12 years old, according to circumstances. Why such long distances ridden by children? Because, traditionally in Mongolia, a race should be won not by a strong jockey who is capable of guiding, pacing, and forcing the horse. It should be won on the merits of the horse itself, its own strength, its own willingness to run. Until recently, it wasn't uncommon for families to ride their mounts into Ulaanbaatar from the outlying provinces, sometimes as much as a fortnight's journey away to take part in the annual horse race at the Naadam. The winning jockeys of the six main races receive awards from the premier of Mongolia, who is also the first secretary of the party. This year, the winner of the most important national race was ridden by a seven-year-old girl. Strawberries, raspberries, raspberries. Stop, stop. We usually boil vegetables. Cholong batter. Green, yellow, and green, yellow. A banana is yellow. What color? They are green, yellow, red, blue, or black. To eat fish, yes. We eat many kinds of fish. Very few fish. Do you like boiled meat? Yes, but I like roasted. Roasted meat. Roasted meat, but Englishmen like fried potatoes very much. They call them chips. Englishmen often eat fish and chips. In the 20th century, in every country in the world, regardless of political regime, one is bureaucracy and one is urbanism. Here in a country of less than a million and a half people, in a land that is as big as all Western Europe put together, some 20% of the total population is grouped here at Ulaanbaatar. It is not only the political capital of the country, but the industrial capital. This is the oldest example, more than 50 years now, of the development of a completely unindustrialized country, planned according to Marxist principles by socialist countries. To put it very briefly, the first step taken was to decolonialize the economy of Mongolia. Mongolia used to export wool and import textiles. It exported raw, untanned hides and imported leather boots and shoes and so on. Today there is an enormous boot and shoe and leather combine with shoemaking equipment from Czechoslovakia. There is a very great meatpacking combine, largely East German built. And there is a textile factory which turns out excellent tweeds and cheviots. Only a few years ago, the Mongols announced with great pride that from having been a country entirely of shepherds, herdsmen, now slightly over 50% of all employment is non-pastoral. The state sets a general plan. This comes down to each factory and is adapted for their particular requirements. But then different units will say, we think if we organize our work properly, we could do 2% or 5% better than the plan. Awards to individuals are never made simply on the basis of one man or woman who by concentrated individual skill produces more than any other individual. When we find such an award being made, it is always the result of a previous discussion in which the unit has decided that it is this individual contribution to our collective interest which has benefited us all and this should be recognized. State planning in Mongolia is not confined to factory production and urban life. In the countryside, the unit of production is the nigdl, or collective, and each nigdl has a committee which interprets state directives and tries to relate wider developments to local experience and needs. I would like to thank you all for this opportunity. It is the nigdl committee which coordinates the work of the nigdl, or rural collective. For example, it may be foreseen that there will be a need for extra fodder supplies for a number of outlying camps in the hardest season of the winter and early spring. This distribution of extra fodder is the master key to the prosperity of the herding economy in Mongolia today. In the old years, the prosperity was erratic. There could be a good year followed by a succession of hard years or even disastrous years. Because the climate is uncertain enough, so that sometimes, especially in late winter or early spring, the lambing season, when there would be blizzards, the losses of livestock could be simply colossal. This provision of shelter, along with the provision of emergency winter fodder, these are the two things that are transforming the pasture methods of the Mongols, from the old nomadic frequent shifting of camps to the new ranching type, where you have a permanent center for each family or group of families. White moon or white month is a survival of very, very ancient traditions. It is based on the lunar new year. At the white moon, relatives gather around the oldest couple of their kin group, renewing the ties of blood relationship. In connection with this, many old ceremonies survive. The ceremonial exchange of snuff bottles, for example. At one period, such things were considered feudal survivals and frowned on. Today, they are considered survivals of the old customs of the people, and they are in quite good repute everywhere. Good party members can practice these ceremonies. A city man with his small family, who does not celebrate the Tsagan Tsar with any large group, will speak sentimentally of the Tsagan Tsar out in the countryside. And people who have good jobs in the city, and really wouldn't want to leave those jobs, will at the same time say to you, life on a collective out in the country, that's the real life, that's where they have it good. In the city, where the residents celebrate and celebrate the Tsagan tsar's birthday, people gather and celebrate for the birthday of the tsar, and they leave to celebrate a tomorrow that the tsar will not have. The next day, the next day, the next day, the one day after tomorrow, and a day before the next day, that the tsar will be dead. We are the national artwork. We will be forever grateful to you. The village is for, we are connection to our people. We are the future of our people. We are the future of pain. We are the future of our children, we are the future of our ancestors. We are the future of our youth. We are the future of our children www.ukuleleroadtrips.com