Soviet Modernity Stephen Kotkin and The PDF

1 Soviet Modernity: Stephen
2 Kotkin and the Bolshevik

3 Predicament
Q1
4 A N N A K RY L O VA
5 Introduction: the Paradoxically Familiar Face of Stephen Kotkin’s Socialism

6 Modernity
7 ‘Modernity’ has long been a working category of historical analysis in Russian and
8 Soviet studies. Like any established category, it bears a history of its own characterised
9 by founding assumptions, conceptual possibilities and lasting interpretive habits.
10 Stephen Kotkin’s work has played a special role in framing the kind of scholarship
11 this category has enabled and the kind of modernity it has assigned to twentieth-
12 century Russia. Kotkin’s 1995 Magnetic Mountain introduced the concept of ‘socialist
13 modernity’. His continued work with the concept in his 2001 Kritika article ‘Modern
14 Times’ and his 2001 Armageddon Averted marked crucial moments in the history of
15 the discipline and have positioned the author as a pioneering and dominant voice
16 on the subject for nearly two decades.1 Given the defining nature of Kotkin’s work,
17 a critical discussion of its impact on the way the discipline conceives of Soviet
Duke University: History Department, Duke University, PO Box 90719, Durham, NC 27708, USA;
[email protected]
This article was written during my term at the School of Historical Studies at the Institute for Advanced
Study and was supported by the George F. Kennan Fellowship. I would like to thank the Institute for its
generous support, and the faculty and fellow members for an intellectually energising semester. I would
also like to thank another community of scholars, the transnational research group, Capital, Class and
Culture in Asia and Beyond, which has served for several years as a rigorous intellectual laboratory for
thinking about issues raised in the article. Lastly, I am especially grateful to Michael David-Fox, Nicola
Di Cosmo, Geoff Eley, Holger Nehring, Elena Osokina, Roberta Pergher, and Wang Aihe for their
close and critical readings of previous drafts of this article.
1 Stephen Kotkin, Magnetic Mountain: Stalinism as Civilization (Berkeley, CA: University of California
Press, 1995); Stephen Kotkin, ‘Modern Times: The Soviet Union and the Interwar Conjuncture’,
Kritika: Explorations in Russian and Eurasian History, 2, 1 (2001), 111–64; Stephen Kotkin,
Armageddon Averted: The Soviet Collapse, 1970–2000 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001;
2008).
Contemporary European History, 23, 2 (2014), pp. 167–192.

c Cambridge University Press 2014
doi:10.1017/S0960777314000083
168 Contemporary European History
18 modernisation and presents it to non-Russian fields is perhaps overdue.2 Here, I

19 approach Kotkin’s work on modernity as the field’s collective property in need of
20 a critical, deconstructive reading for its underlying assumptions, prescribed master
21 narratives, and resultant paradoxes.3
22 The main paradox that I examine is how the pioneering comparative approach
23 to the study of the Soviet Union that Kotkin called for – that is the approach that
24 aimed at integrating the Soviet experience into transnational history and argued for
25 the indispensability of this intellectual move for a better understanding of both Soviet
26 and Western trajectories – ended up with a vision of Soviet modernity as the familiar
27 radical other of the West: anti-capitalist and anti-individualist. This tenacious vision
28 is traceable to the founding decades of American Soviet studies. At its core, I argue,
29 is the unquestioned status of this stubborn and seemingly indivisible constellation
30 of anti-capitalist and anti-individualist characteristics of Soviet socialism.4 Starting
31 with Magnetic Mountain, Kotkin has defined these co-dependent anti-aspirations
32 of the Soviet non-market industrial experiment as ‘fixed ideas’ or ‘basic
33 tenets’.
34 These ‘tenets’, as scholars know too well, resonate throughout the field of modern
35 Russian history. They are summarised in the Bolshevik infatuation with the making
36 of the collectivist man, this ultimate goal behind the socialist agenda to build
37 an economic alternative to capitalism and, in the process, liberate human nature
38 from its individualistic degradation. The Soviet experiment in non-market industrial
39 modernity, as a result, is held to be a priori antithetical to individualising discourses
40 of modernity. Consequently, the very discourse on the individual as a non-subversive
2 For a critical historiographical discussion of the 1990s-era scholarship on Russian modernity, see
Michael David-Fox’s seminal essay that analyses academic narratives of modernity by contrasting what
he calls modernist and neo-traditionalist approaches to thinking about Russia in twentieth century,
Michael David-Fox, ‘Multiple Modernities vs. Neo-Traditionalism: On Recent Debates in Russian
and Soviet History’, Jahrbücher für Geschichte Osteuropas, 54 (2006), 535–55.
3 In the field of European history, analytical limitations and possibilities of the term ‘modernity’ have
been subject to continuous scholarly scrutiny, see, for example, Geoff Eley, ‘German History and the
Contradictions of Modernity: The Bourgeoisie, the State, and the Mastery of Reform’, in Geoff Eley,
ed., Society, Culture, and Politics in Germany, 1870–1930: New Approaches (Ann Arbor, MI: University
of Michigan Press, 1996), 67–104; also Eley’s paper ‘What was German Modernity?’ presented at
the German Studies Association, Washington, DC, Oct. 8–11, 2009, that offers an analysis of the
‘multifarious usages of the language of “the modern” and “modernity” both in the work of historians
today and in the contemporary discourse of the later nineteenth and early twentieth centuries’. For
a recent discussion of the concept and its limitations, see AHR Roundtable on ‘Historians and the
Question of “Modernity” ’, esp. Mark Roseman’s contribution on the limited explanatory capacity of
the category when applied to the historical case of Nazism Mark Roseman, ‘National Socialism and
the End of Modernity’, American Historical Review, 116, 3 (2011), 688–701.
4 See, e.g. Carl J. Friedrich’s and Zbigniew K. Brzezinski’s Totalitarian Dictatorship and Autocracy
(Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1956) which relied on the neo-liberal (Friedrich Hayek’s)
identification of the autonomous and rational individual with conditions of free market competition
as a core presupposition in their analysis of the Soviet Union, in Anna Krylova, ‘The Tenacious
Liberal Subject in Soviet Studies’, Kritika: Explorations in Russian and Eurasian History, 1, 1 (2000),
121–4.
Soviet Modernity 169
41 cultural practice is de facto reserved to market, that is, capitalist experiences with the
42 modern.5
43 In what follows I will demonstrate how, in applying the notion of fixed
44 fundamentals as categories of analysis to Soviet realities regardless of the decade,
45 Kotkin and scholars who draw on his work, equate the longue durée of the Soviet
46 modern project with Bolshevism and its system of anti-individualist values. As a
47 result, Kotkin in particular inscribes the complexity of Russia’s development in the
48 twentieth century into what I will call here a master narrative of stagnation. According
49 to this narrative, the Bolshevik political-cultural formation arrives on the Russian
50 revolutionary scene between the 1900s and the 1920s, is put into practice in the 1930s,
51 and continues to define economic and cultural parameters of the Soviet modernity
52 project after the war, eventually causing its collapse. The most troubling aspect of
53 this master narrative is not only Kotkin’s assertion that the Soviet Union’s post-
54 war economy, culture and ideology were fatally set into pre-war Bolshevik patterns
55 but that they stagnated in tandem. In striking contrast with the prevalent academic
56 understanding of capitalist modernity as the antithesis of stability, Kotkin’s socialist
57 modernity ends up being consumed and eroded by inertia.6 As a result, the only
58 cultural language that Kotkin could possibly make available to his modern Soviet
59 subject is, of course, ‘Bolshevik’. Since the early 2000s Kotkin’s characterisation
60 of Soviet culture as a whole as the culture that ‘speaks Bolshevik’ has become an
61 academic interpretive trope of enviable popularity.
62 My goal here is to begin to disassemble the paradigm of ‘fixed ideas’ that
63 informed Kotkin’s work and to question the stubborn disjunction within and outside
64 academia between non-market industrial societies and individualising discourses
65 of modernity. Thus, this essay questions: first, whether the ‘fixed [anti]ideas’ of
66 Bolshevism constitute a comprehensive analytics applicable to the Soviet Union’s
67 cultural development in the long term; and, second, whether whether the Soviet
5 In order to rely on this image of the capitalist West as the harbour of modern individuality, Kotkin had
to disregard, in the manner of cold war Soviet studies, a prolific, multifaceted, and ongoing intellectual
critique within critical theory of capitalist modernity as the locus of the individual’s demise. This
critique is hardly reducible to Marxist thought. Critics of the fate of the individual under conditions of
capitalist production, accumulation and mass society come from different intellectual milieus, such as
romantic, liberal, socialist, Catholic, Fascist, post-Marxist, and postmodern, and could fill up volumes
with just the names and titles of the works.
6 One of the most canonical treatments of modernity that underlines permanent instability and tension
between the impulse toward order and regulation, on the one hand, and inherent ambiguity and
changeability, on the other hand, in the modern condition, is, for example, Marshall Berman, All That
is Solid Melts into Air: The Experience of Modernity (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1982). Field-shaping
scholarship on modern Russia, on the other hand, has stressed ordering, regulatory, and surveillance
impulses of Russian and Soviet path toward modernity, see, e.g. Peter Holquist’s landmark article
‘ “Information is the Alpha and Omega of Our Work”: Bolshevik Surveillance in its Pan-European
Perspective’, Journal of Modern History, 69, 3 (1997), 415–50; David Hoffmann’s Cultivating the Masses:
Modern State Practices and Soviet Socialism, 1914–1939 (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2011). A rare
exception to this approach to modernity studies in the Russian context is Mark Steinberg’s fundamental
study of ambivalences and ambiguities of modern life, Proletarian Imagination: Self, Modernity, and the
Sacred in Russia, 1910–1925 (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2002).
68 cultural formation is adequately captured by academic explications which treat

69 modern individualising discourses as outside formal socialist culture.7
70 To begin this critical conversation about Kotkin’s script for Soviet socialist
71 modernity I invite scholars to reflect whether the Bolshevik ‘basic tenets’, which
72 undoubtedly informed imagination of a new type of modern industrial society in
73 the 1920s and the early 1930s, could indeed become the actual language of the
74 industrial (even if non-market) society once it came into being. How was this
75 anti-individualist cultural paradigm of Bolshevism to address the profound social
76 transformation brought about by the 1930s industrialisation, namely, the appearance
77 of an urban and professionally differentiated middle class defined by the alienating and
78 self-centred character of intellectual labour and the expectations of urban privacy?
79 How historically viable is the notion of ‘fixed ideas’ that implies that such profound
80 structural changes in the lives of millions of Soviet people had no effect on Soviet
81 official culture?
82 This essay consists of three parts. Part one offers a critical reading of Kotkin’s
83 work on Soviet socialist modernity as well as his defining impact on the constitution
84 of the subfields of cultural history and subjectivity studies. Part two explores the
85 methodological ramifications of Kotkin’s study through the recent scholarship on
86 post-war Soviet society where the limitations of his analytics of ‘fixed ideas’ and
87 ‘speaking Bolshevik’ are particularly revealing. In part three, I complete my critical
88 reading of Kotkin’s work from the angle of the socio-demographic transformation of
89 everyday Soviet routines of work, leisure and private life.
90 My agenda here is twofold. First, I want to disrupt the assumption of
91 incompatibility between non-market industrial societies such as the Soviet Union’s
92 and individualising discourses of modernity that foreground personal and private
93 aspects of the self and presuppose a differentiation between the self and its social
94 milieu. Second, I propose an alternative account of Soviet socialist modernity by
95 rethinking the dynamics of social and cultural change in twentieth-century Russia. I
96 argue that, as early as the mid 1930s, Soviet industrial society began speaking more
97 than one—still socialist—language of modernity right at the centre of its political and
98 popular culture. I also contend that the Soviet cultural formation is larger than the
99 Bolshevik tradition. In fact, as long as we continue to assume that Soviet modernity
100 had only one formal language – Bolshevik – we choose to disregard in advance the
7 One aspect of Kotkin’s definition of Soviet modernity that is not investigated here is his unproblematised
reliance on the term ‘non-market industrial economy’. This notion has been a topic of much academic
debate. For a field-defining rethinking of Soviet non-market economy as inevitably a mixed economy,
i.e. as a peculiar Soviet combination of plan and market (both illegal and legal), see Elena Osokina, esp.
her analysis of Soviet black economy and the phenomenon of state entrepreneurship in E. A. Osokina,
Za fasadom “stalinskogo izobiliia”: raspredelenie i rynok v snabzhenii naseleniia v gody industrializatsii, 1927–
1941 (Moscow: ROSSPEN, 1998), tr. Greta Bucher as, Our Daily Bread: Socialist Distribution and the Art
of Survival in Stalin’s Russia, 1927–1941, ed. Kate S. Tranchel, New Russian History Series (Armonk,
NY: Sharpe, 2001); and Zoloto dlia industrializatsii: TORGSIN (Gold for Industrialization: TORGSIN),
(Moscow: ROSSPEN, 2009). Following Osokina, I use the term ‘non-market’ to mean that the
development of Soviet market relations were hindered, deformed, and did not exist in the forms
familiar from Western examples.
101 rise of new socialist cultural forms.8 I call these new cultural forms of Soviet socialism
102 post-Bolshevik.9
103 What set post-Bolshevik cultural developments apart from their Bolshevik
104 predecessor was not only the emerging language, which operated with formerly
105 castigated and under-articulated categories of identity such as ‘individuality’ and the
106 ‘personal’. This new language enabled a public conversation that carried meanings
107 of the ‘individual’ and its relationship to the ‘social’ away from the Bolshevik
108 collectivist agenda which aimed at eliminating the very difference between the
109 two. In accordance with the Bolshevik vision of alternative modernity, the new
110 humanity was to ‘merge’ (that is, see no difference in) its personal and collective
111 interests—in contrast, the post-Bolshevik Soviet discourse on the modern socialist
112 individual posited a new task of learning how to ‘connect’ (that is, relate) individual
113 predispositions and goals with the social good. I treat these new developments which
114 provided Soviet citizens with a formal language to present individual and social
115 dimensions of their lives as distinct entities, in need of relation but not identification,
116 as the epistemic beginning of a new socialist discourse on the individual and his or
117 her non-market industrial society.
118 The two notions – the individualising discourse and the discourse on the
119 individual – that are rarely well articulated in academic literature are in need of
120 an explication here. I do not use the two concepts interchangeably. In fact, the focus
121 of this article is not a discourse on the individual, individuality or individualism per se
122 which, in academic literature, tends to mean a cultural conversation that focuses on
123 personal and private aspects of the self. Instead, I explore individualising discourses
124 which, in my definition, encompass the individual and the social (be it community,
125 collective, society, or common good) and articulate a relationship between the two.
126 As a result, I privilege neither the individual nor the social but rather focus on the
127 way a relationship between the individual and the social is conceived in different
128 historical settings. I hold that an individualising discourse enables its users to draw, in
8 On developments within Soviet legal culture, and mainstream artistic and literary conversations away
from the Bolshevik and the Socialist Realist traditions, see Benjamin Nathan’s, ‘Soviet Rights-Talk
in the Post-Stalin Era’, in Stefan-Ludwig Hoffmann, ed., Human Rights in the Twentieth Century
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2011), 166–90; and ‘The Dictatorship of Reason: Aleksandr
Vol’pin and the Idea of Rights under “Developed Socialism” ’, Slavic Review, 66, 4 (2007), 630–63;
Susan E. Reid’s path-breaking essay, ‘Toward a New (Socialist) Realism: The Re-engagement with
Western Modernism in the Khrushchev Thaw’, in Rosalind P. Blakesley and Susan E. Reid, eds,
Russian Art and the West (Dekalb, IL: Northern Illinois University Press, 2006), 217–39; Anatoly Pinsky,
‘The Diaristic Form and Subjectivity under Khrushchev’, Slavic Review, (forthcoming).
9 The kinds of new cultural forms I explore here go beyond neo-traditionalist interpretations which treat
the 1930s discontinuities in the Bolshevik discourse on class as a return to pre-Bolshevik systems of
signification (either ‘nationalist’ or ‘bourgeois’), implying that no new socialist cultural forms came to
life as a result of the accelerating transformations of Soviet society. For an elaboration of this critique,
see my discussion in section three of this essay. See also Michael David-Fox’s critical discussion of the
neo-traditionalist school of thought, in particular, the work by Sheila Fitzpatrick, Matthew Lenoe and
Terry Martin, in David-Fox, ‘Multiple Modernities’, 544–8; also see David Hoffmann’s critique of the
‘great retreat’ paradigm in his ‘Was there a “Great Retreat” from Soviet Socialism? Stalinist Culture
Reconsidered’, Kritika: Explorations in Russian and Eurasian History, 5, 4 (2004), 651–74.
129 a constructive manner, on notions of differentiation and distinction between the self
130 and society.10
131 Given these parameters of my analysis, I intentionally avoid equating modern
132 individualising discourses exclusively with the liberal Western tradition. I hold instead
133 that debate about the individual and his or her relationship with society is an ongoing
134 historical conversation and the liberal tradition (far from being a uniform tradition
135 itself) provides only one commentary on the problem, however privileged.
136 In conclusion, I ponder whether, having disrupted Kotkin’s vision of Soviet
137 modernity as a totality of synchronised economic, cultural, ideological stagnation
138 we are positioned to pose a question about Soviet modernity as no longer reducible
139 to one historical form and to reconsider its status as a radical alternative to post-1945
140 European experience. To answer these questions one needs to approach the post-
141 Bolshevik moment in modern Russian history on its own terms. The amount of
142 work in store for scholars working on the Soviet Union from the mid 1930s onwards,
143 I contend, is comparable with the decades of work that have been devoted to the
144 Bolshevik formation. The task before historians today is nothing less than mapping
145 out a new set of analytical categories, discursive logics, and historical problematics—
146 an undiscovered country of post-Bolshevik Soviet socialist modernity.
147 New Directions and ‘Fixed Ideas’ of Kotkin’s Soviet Modernity
148 The anti-capitalist and anti-individualist socialist concept of Soviet modernity

149 that Kotkin developed in Magnetic Mountain was complex and multi-layered. It
150 was intricately contextualised across Russia’s century-long historical predicaments
151 and resolutely tied to transnational destinies of the capitalist world. For Kotkin,
152 ‘Russia’s obsession with socialism’ was hardly an accident of history. It was rather
153 a historically over-determined choice that promised a resolution to a complex
154 amalgam of long-standing problems that revolved around Russia’s social and economic
155 backwardness. It also addressed a cherished national fantasy about Russia’s historical
156 and national distinctiveness and moral superiority. The post-1917 pursuit of a socialist
157 future, Kotkin observed, allowed Russia simultaneously to ally with the Western
158 tradition and to differentiate from it. The socialist choice firmly situated Russia
159 aboard the Enlightenment project with its promise of a scientifically planned,
160 developed and ordered society. At the same time, it allowed Russian intellectuals
161 to indulge themselves in imagining a distinctively Russian modernity without the
162 evils of capitalism. In Kotkin’s words, socialism in its Bolshevised version enabled
10 Recently, historians of Nazi Germany have begun to recover discourses on individuality and interest in
personality in the Nazi era. For an innovative analysis of culture of individualism in Nazi Germany and
effective critique of prevalent interpretive paradigms applied to modern German history, see Moritz
Föllmer, ‘Was Nazism Collectivistic? Redefining the Individual in Berlin, 1930–1945’, The Journal of
Modern History, 82, 1 (2010), 61–100; also Moritz Föllmer, Individuality and Modernity in Berlin: Self and
Society from Weimar to the Wall (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2013); also Per Leo, Der Wille
zum Wesen (Berlin: Matthes und Seitz, 2013).
163 a ‘historically conditioned merger of long-held geopolitical objectives and potent

164 social concerns’ and thus made perfect sense in the Russian historical context.11
165 Conceptualised this way, Kotkin’s study of Soviet socialism was predicated on
166 serious rethinking of some resilient academic presuppositions, most immediately
167 about Soviet Russia’s relationship with the West. The proposition that Soviet socialism
168 could be thought of as a modern ‘antiworld of capitalism’ exploded the singularity of
169 the conventional understanding of modernity. Four years later, in ‘Modern Times’,
170 Kotkin reformulated this intervention with a concept of ‘multiple modernities’.
171 ‘Modernity’ became a plural and inherently comparative category, the discipline’s
172 ticket into transnational and global history.12
173 No less momentous for the field was Kotkin’s undertaking to vindicate the ‘cultural
174 dimension’ of Soviet modernity, that ‘powerful cluster’ of Marxist-Bolshevik symbols,
175 concepts, attitudes, languages, even forms of speech that irrupted into political
176 culture in the 1920s and 1930s. Kotkin’s approach differed from the preceding schools
177 that had studied Marxist-Bolshevik ideology as a cultural layer largely estranged
178 from the Soviet people. In Magnetic Mountain, the ‘cultural dimension’ constitutes a
179 ‘crucial’ venue of exploration when the analysis moves from macro-levels of global
180 and geopolitical dynamics to micro-worlds of lived socialism at the construction
181 site of Magnitogorsk.13 Having presented his Soviet subjects as having historically
182 conditioned stakes in the socialist project, Kotkin made it difficult for himself and the
183 field to dismiss Soviet people’s participation in the socialist project as the coercion of
184 personally and emotionally uninvolved individuals. The vindication of the cultural
185 dimension of this socialist project was thus tantamount to putting yet another urgent
186 item on the agenda of the field: a need to conceptualise the relationship between
187 the Bolshevik modernity and the individual. Thus, the beginning of cultural history
188 and subjectivity studies was summoned by the refusal to view the cultural realm as
189 an alienated façade of representations.
190 The de facto ‘cultural turn’ that Magnetic Mountain called for without using these
191 exact words did not originate with the book, of course. It belonged to the much larger
192 general turn within the historical profession of the 1980s and 1990s toward cultural
193 theory and critical reconceptualisations of the viable subject matters of historical
194 analysis.14 In the mid 1990s, Magnetic Mountain was among the first monographs
195 in which the dominant intellectual and methodological trends of the period were
11 Kotkin, Magnetic Mountain, 12, 23, 364.

12 Kotkin, ‘Modern Times’, 156–7. For an analysis of the history of the concept of ‘multiple modernities’
in the social sciences and history see David-Fox, ‘Multiple Modernities’, 537–8.
13 Kotkin, Magnetic Mountain, 14, 152.
14 For the recent critical conversation about conceptual currency of the ‘turn talk’ in the field of history
and methodological innovation, under the rubric of the cultural and linguistic turns, see an AHR
Forum titled ‘Historiographic “Turns” in Critical Perspective’, esp. the contribution by James W.
Cook, in American Historical Review, 117, 3 (2012); see also Gabrielle Spiegel’s Presidential Address,
‘The Task of the Historian’, American Historical Review, 114, 1 (2009), 1–15; Ronald Grigour Suny,
‘Back and Beyond: Revising the Cultural Turn?’, American Historical Review, 107, 5 (2002), 1476–88;
Carla Hesse, ‘The New Empiricism’, Cultural and Social History, 1, 2 (2004), 201–7; Joan Wallach Scott,
‘Against Eclecticism’, differences: A Journal of Feminist Cultural Studies, 16, 3 (2006), 114–37.
196 applied to the study of Stalinism. For this reason the book ended up redefining much
197 more than the study of Stalinism.
198 New analytics were especially badly needed to study mutually constitutive
199 interactions between individuals and the socialist project in what Kotkin referred
200 to as micro-worlds of lived socialism. Drawing on Foucault and other critical and
201 cultural theorists, Kotkin introduced into the field of modern Russian history a
202 new analytical language of socialist ‘habitat’, ‘identification games’, and ‘subject
203 formation’. This allowed him to study Bolshevism as an ‘ongoing experience’ of
204 everyday speech, behaviour, dress, thought – the activities that exemplified the
205 practice of ‘speaking Bolshevik’. The very ‘problem of subjectivity’, its formation
206 and expression, under socialism was redefined as a ‘productive process’ – at once
207 demanding, empowering and dangerous – which included ‘[a study of] not only
208 what was repressed or prohibited but what was made possible and produced’.15 As a
209 result, Kotkin helped to reorient a whole cohort of scholars toward a culturally and
210 theoretically informed study of Soviet modernity and laid the conceptual ground
211 work for the subjectivity studies.
212 Given such an ambitious intellectual agenda, one needs to pay special attention to
213 the layer of Kotkin’s analysis that the author himself characterises as ‘fixed’ or ‘basic’
214 and which, by definition, proves to be not open for questioning in his otherwise
215 critical conversation with the field. It is the notion of ‘fixed ideas of the Soviet
216 regime’s official ideology’ and the role it plays in Kotkin’s discussion of socialist
217 modernity, to which I now turn.16 A critical examination of this ‘fixed’ layer of
218 supposedly underlying fundamental principles of Bolshevik thought and political
219 culture is crucial for several reasons. The fundamentals of Kotkin’s analysis form
220 the field’s conceptual property the roots of which lie in the pre-1990s scholarship.
221 They guide not only Kotkin’s but also our own scholarly encounters with Soviet
222 materials, influencing the questions we ask and the interpretations we produce.
223 Shared fundamentals must not remain unexamined, however much they may appear
224 simply given.
225 What follows is thus not another contribution to the prolonged debate on Soviet
226 subjectivity which began in reaction to the publication of Magnetic Mountain and
227 in which the author of this article herself participated.17 Here I propose to take a
228 step back to look at the larger picture. Having debated Kotkin’s stand on the Soviet
229 subject since the mid 1990s, cultural historians, I argue, together with the rest of
230 the discipline, forgot to examine the synthesis of underlying fundamental principles
231 of Bolshevik thought that Kotkin assigned to his concept of alternative socialist
232 modernity. It is this basic cultural layer that served Kotkin as the basis for thinking
233 about the Soviet subject and that, as I now understand it, should have been examined
234 first.
15 Kotkin, Magnetic Mountain, 22, 149–51, 215, 220–1, 223, 236. A similar intellectual move toward a study
of totalitarian subjectivity as a productive process was also made in scholarship on Nazi Germany, see
Föllmer, Individuality and Modernity, 63–4.
16 Kotkin, Magnetic Mountain, 152.
17 See Krylova, ‘The Tenacious Liberal Subject’.
235 In striking contrast with the call for conceptual and theoretical innovation which
236 defined Magnetic Mountain’s modus operandi, Kotkin presents his discussion of tenets
237 of Soviet socialism as neither original nor controversial. Rather, it is a non-contentious
238 summing-up of core ideas that the author borrows from the decades of focused
239 scholarly work on Marxist-Bolshevik ideology. We might guess that Magnetic Mountain
240 registers for us the state of the general consensus about the fundamentals of Soviet
241 ideology because core ideas of socialism in this otherwise meticulously footnoted
242 manuscript are explicated without extensive footnoting.
243 The author whose work on Bolshevik ideology Kotkin does reference is Leszek
244 Kolakowski whose 1978 monumental three-volume Main Currents of Marxism: Its
245 Rise, Growth, and Dissolution was a crowning conclusion to the three decades of the
246 totalitarian school’s effort to grasp the nature of Soviet Communism and German
247 Nazism.18 Kolakowski’s volumes along with his preceding work thus belonged to
248 an outstanding scholarly community that included the philosopher Hannah Arendt,
249 the intellectual historian Alfred G. Meyer, the social scientist Raymond A. Bauer,
250 the writer Arthur Koestler, the political theorist Carl J. Friedrich, the political
251 scientist Zbigniew K. Brzezinski, to name just a few. For Kolakowski and the
252 totalitarian school in general, the concept of the ‘communist idea’, that is ideology as
253 a logical conceptual system with ‘basic values’ and ‘permanent components’ (to use
254 Kolakowski’s terminology), played the principle role in explaining the phenomenon
255 of twentieth-century totalitarian regimes and the psychological power they exerted
256 over their populations. The Soviet regime, for example, was understood as a resolute
257 ideology carrier, consumed by its own ideological content while imposing it on the
258 Soviet society. Continuously undergoing multiple revisions in the course of its history,
259 the Marxian-Bolshevik-Soviet ideological project never gave up its fundamental
260 concepts.
261 The making of this intellectual credo which used ideology as its privileged category
262 of analysis can be traced through several foundational works. Hannah Arendt’s 1951
263 The Origins of Totalitarianism was, of course, one of the most influential books of the
264 post-war period. Explaining the phenomenon of totalitarianism, Arendt relied on the
265 concept of ‘inherent logicality’ of totalitarian doctrines. The reason why totalitarian
266 regimes managed to exercise such an overwhelming power over individuals’ minds
267 and to impose ideology into social reality, she argued, lay in logical and consistent
268 structures of their belief systems. Once such an ideological system happened to
269 overtake the mind of an individual, it ruled it by means of a ‘self-coercive force of
270 logical deduction’. What preoccupied Arendt however was less the permanency of
271 specific Bolshevik ideas rather the role of ideas in an environment of total terror.19
272 To identify an essential core of Marxist ideas, and then trace their multiform-yet-
273 inevitable unfolding into Stalinism, was a common strategy. One monumental work
18 Leszek Kolakowski, Main Currents of Marxism: Its Rise, Growth, and Dissolution (Oxford: Clarendon
Press, 1978).
19 Hannah Arendt, The Origins of Totalitarianism, Part III: Totalitarianism (New York: Harcourt, Brace,
1951; citations from 1968 edn), 170–2.

274 of the 1950s, Alfred Meyer’s Marxism: The Unity of Theory and Practice, published in
275 1954, supplied the ‘communist idea’ with such a genealogy. Meyer, too, attributed
276 the lasting capacity of Marxism and Bolshevism to captivate people’s minds to their
277 ‘over-all synthesis’ and to the coherence of its thought structure. He traced this feature
278 back to Marx and then back to Lenin across Marxist controversies and disagreements
279 of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. The story that Meyer retrieved from
280 his sources was one of repeated disintegrations and re-integrations of the Marxist
281 and Bolshevik tradition. What was immutable, Meyer’s work demonstrated, was the
282 meaning of core Marxist notions and the persistent striving among Marxists towards
283 setting them into logical conceptual systems.20 Another classic, The New Man in
284 Soviet Psychology by Raymond Bauer, published in 1952, extended the applicability
285 of Bolshevik basic ‘postulates’ into the post-war period. In his detailed analysis of
286 ‘shifting’ debates that took place around definitions of human nature and society in
287 official ideology, science, philosophy and literature, Bauer, like Meyer, demonstrated
288 that the essential content of Marxism as well as its imperative to produce a logical
289 whole out of its ideas were preserved at every new shift.21
290 More than two decades later—during which an avalanche of publications
291 appeared devoted to Soviet ideology and the Soviet state’s unwavering dependence
292 on it – Kolakowski offered one of the most extended analyses of ‘basic values
293 of Marxian socialism’ which underlay ‘general tendencies of Bolshevism’.22 His
294 intricate articulation of the Bolshevik project stressed the intention to model a
295 new anti-individualist human nature after the ‘historically privileged proletarian
296 consciousness’ under the conditions of a non-market and collectivist society that
297 strove to ‘nationalise’ the individual itself (that is to erase the difference between the
298 individual, the collective and the state). Like scholars before him, he treated central
299 aspects of communist ideology as immutable and traceable to (though not identical
300 with) Marx’s thought.23
20 Alfred G. Meyer, Marxism: The Unity of Theory and Practice (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press,
1954; citations from 1970 edn), 144, 137–9.
21 Raymond A. Bauer, The New Man in Soviet Psychology (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press,
1952), in Robert V. Daniels, ed., The Stalin Revolution: Foundations of the Totalitarian Era (Boston, MA:
Houghton Mifflin Co, 1997), 39–45.
22 The quotes come from 1977 ‘Marxist Roots of Stalinism’ in which Kolakowski offers a dense summary
of the totalitarian school’s position. Leszek Kolakowki, ‘Marxist Roots of Stalinism’, in Robert C.
Tucker, ed., Stalinism: Essays in Historical Interpretation (New York: Norton, 1977), 284, 299. For core
works preceding Kolakowski’s ‘Marxist Roots of Stalinist’ and Main Currents of Marxism (1978), see Carl
J. Friedrich and Zbigniew K. Brzezniski, Totalitarian Dictatorship and Autocracy (Cambridge, MA: Harvard
University Press, 1956); Alexander Erlich, The Soviet Industrialization Debate, 1924–1928 (Cambridge,
MA: Harvard University Press, 1960); Zbigniew K. Brzezinski, Ideology and Power in Soviet Politics
(New York: Praeger, 1962; Westport: Greenwood Press Publishers, 1976); Robert Daniels, The Nature
of Communism (New York: Random House, 1962); Robert Hatch McNeal, The Bolshevik Tradition:
Lenin, Stalin, Khrushchev (Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall, 1963); Bertram D. Wolfe, An Ideology
in Power: Reflections on the Russian Revolution (New York: Stein and Day, 1969); Leszek Kolakowski,
Marxism and Beyond: On Historical Understanding and Personal Responsibility (London: Pall Mall Press,
1969).
23 Kolakowski, ‘Marxist Roots of Stalinism’, 285, 291, 293–4.
301 In the late 1970s, the author considered his work as part of the totalitarian
302 school’s tradition. Despite all the criticisms that had by that time been directed
303 at the totalitarian school, according to Kolakowski, the conceptual foundations it
304 had provided for thinking about the ideological premises of the Soviet project had
305 not been surpassed. 24 Kolakowski was right in the sense that the school’s idea of
306 Bolshevism’s ‘permanent components’ proved to be one of the most influential
307 contributions to the field of modern Russian history. Numerous challengers did
308 criticise the totalitarian approach for either overemphasising the significance of
309 ideology at the expense of society or reducing its role in ordinary people’s lives to
310 an intrusive and yet estranged force. Despite their different generations and different
311 methodological traditions, critics did not question the totalitarian account of the
312 ‘communist idea’s’ underlying fundamentals.25
313 In Kotkin we find a cluster of characteristics of Bolshevik thought, familiar from
314 Kolakowski and authors before him, functioning as the established knowledge of
315 the field of modern Russian history. Why should one footnote the established?
316 Soviet anti-capitalist modernity – the world without markets and private property –
317 promised ‘transcendence of selfish individualism’ in the everyday life of Soviet
318 citizens, did it not? The constitution of the new unselfish socialist person was guided
319 by an imperative to re-centre personal identities around labour and the much admired
320 working-class collectivist world-view, not so? This alternative way of being which
321 Kotkin so concisely summarises in his conclusion as ‘a rejection of individualism and
322 a commitment to collectivism’ rested on ‘Marxist class analysis’ which divided the
323 world into antagonistic classes and treated the proletariat as the ‘universal class’ –
324 the living prototype of new humanity. To complete Kotkin’s sketch of the essential
325 features of socialism, one needs to add that the mode of operation of the socialist
326 system under construction in Magnitagorsk is defined as ‘mobilisational’ and ‘heroic’
327 and the temporal perception of the Soviet society as ‘revolutionary’ and future-
328 oriented.26 As such, the Soviet doctrine of modernity is derived from and identified
329 with the Bolshevised version of Marxism which, in the 1930s, materialises into
24 Ibid. 288.
25 The revisionist challenge to the totalitarian school, for example, first took place in political science in
the late 1960s. It drew on an alternative stream in the 1950s scholarship that remained on the margins of
Soviet studies for two decades. Its pioneers – a cohort of outstanding social scientists such as Barrington
Moore, Merle Fainsod and Adam Ulam – started their explorations of the Stalinist phenomenon with
a premise that the power of the communist idea needs to be explained not through its innate qualities,
but through social forces and historical circumstances peculiar to Russia. Jerry Hough’s 1969 The Soviet
Prefects, for example, made a strong case for Barrington Moore’s model that posited an eventual retreat
of communist ideology all together in reaction to new social circumstances of industrialised society.
See, Jerry F. Hough, The Soviet Prefects: The Local Party Organs in Industrial Decision-Making (Cambridge,
MA.: Harvard University Press, 1969); Adam B. Ulam, ‘The Historical Role of Marxism and the
Soviet System’, World Politics, 8, 1 (1955); Barrington Moore, Terror and Progress USSR: Some Sources of
Change and Stability in the Soviet Dictatorship (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1954); Merle
Fainsod, How Russia is Ruled (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1953). Most recently, Sheila
Fitzpatrick and Michael Geyer with a group of scholars have offered a critical comparative exploration
of the totalitarian school’s legacies, Michael Geyer and Sheila Fitzpatrick, eds, Beyond Totalitarianism:
Stalinism and Nazism Compared (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2009).
26 Kotkin, Magnetic Mountain, 18, 150–1, 158, 202, 215, 355.
330 ‘Stalinist civilization’. ‘Speaking Bolshevik’ in Magnetic Mountain is much more than
331 a helpful metaphor. It functions as an analytical trope capturing the essence of the
332 Bolshevik project – the process of ‘Bolshevization’ of individuals’ lives.27
333 Kotkin addresses directly the question of how the political cultural credo of
334 socialism that he works out for the 1930s happens to constitute a permanent package
335 for the rest of the Soviet period. The retention and adoptability of core principles
336 was, according to Kotkin, a result of purposeful and tireless ‘management’ of official
337 ideology and culture. In Kotkin’s scenario, socialist ideology is continuously adaptable
338 and at the same time recyclable. ‘The Soviet regime’s official ideology’, states Kotkin,
339 ‘adaptable as it was, did in fact contain certain fixed ideas that shaped both the course
340 of state action and popular interpretations of state action.’28
341 The Bolshevik socialist ideology predicated on certain fundamental tenets ended
342 up playing a central and lasting explanatory role in Kotkin’s scholarship; and yet
343 he never made that ideology the subject of critical examination in and of itself. In
344 Magnetic Mountain Kotkin was already treating his view of Bolshevik-speaking, anti-
345 individualist and anti-capitalist modernity as a comprehensive script of relevance for
346 the Soviet twentieth century as a whole. Having made a ‘quick leap’ into modernity
347 under Stalin, Kotkin argued, the Soviet Union acquired economic and cultural
348 principles that proved eventually to be frozen in their particular 1930s form.29 In
349 ‘Modern Times’ and Armageddon Averted, this vision of a stagnating Soviet modernity
350 stuck in the 1930s, struggling to reform itself, failing to do so, and finally collapsing,
351 was sharply contrasted with the dynamic twentieth century of the West. Unlike the
352 Soviet Union that, after the Second World War fell back on its pre-war economic and
353 cultural patterns, the West went through at least two cycles of economic, political,
354 and cultural remaking: from Depression-era capitalism to welfare capitalism, and from
355 the welfare stage of capitalism to post-Fordist capitalism.30 The notions of the ‘basic
356 tenets of the system’ and ‘the [stable] official socialist ideology’ of Soviet socialism,
357 established in Magnetic Mountain, were indispensable for making this argument.31
358 ‘Modern Times’ also added a new term to describe the Soviet Union’s stagnating
359 modernity which was always implicit – the ‘anti-liberal’. Devoted to a study of
360 the ‘interwar conjuncture’, the article situated the Soviet Union with its Bolshevik-
361 speaking modernity within the transnational context of mass production, mass culture,
362 mass consumption and aspirations for a social welfare mode of governance. The
363 Soviet Union and the West, argued Kotkin, travelled essentially the same path of
364 development while retaining an ‘enormous’ liberal versus anti-liberal ‘divide’.32 What
365 this argument means is that a rapid expansion of mass entertainment, consumption
366 and education in the Soviet Union did not fundamentally change the basic values
367 of Soviet Bolshevism. Or in other words, no matter what forms Soviet modernity
27 Kotkin, Magnetic Mountain, see Ch. 5 ‘Speaking Bolshevik’, 198–237.

28 Kotkin, Magnetic Mountain, 151–2, 356.
29 Kotkin, Magnetic Mountain, 360.
30 Kotkin, ‘Modern Times’, 115, 119; also see Kotkin, Armageddon Averted, xii, 23–5.
31 Kotkin, Armageddon Averted, 5, 47, 69.
32 Kotkin, ‘Modern Times’, 113–14.
368 replicated or appropriated from the West, its core content remained the same. Thus,
369 for example, socialist mass culture did not shy away from ‘light entertainment’ but
370 continued to be framed by mobilisational, heroic and revolutionary values, which
371 Bolshevik content was best illustrated by the familiar imperative of the collective’s
372 supremacy.33
373 An unsettling conclusion one might derive from Kotkin’s treatment of Soviet
374 modernity is that, at the epistemic level, the Soviet Union did not have a post-war
375 period as a historically distinct cultural formation. The perpetuation of Bolshevik-
376 speaking modernity in the Soviet Union is perhaps best captured in Kotkin’s
377 interchangeable use of the notions ‘Soviet’, ‘Bolshevik’, ‘Marxist’ either in relation
378 to the 1930s or the 1970s.34 This stylistic convention embodies the presumption of a
379 fundamentally static system of Soviet socialist values.
380 Several paradoxes accompanied the turn to cultural and transnational history in
381 Kotkin’s conceptualisation of the Soviet Union’s alternative journey to modernity.
382 Having vindicated the cultural dimension of the socialist project, Kotkin, I suggest,
383 simultaneously contributed to fixing its terms and the terms of the new cultural
384 history of the Soviet Union. In the field of Soviet history, the methodological
385 innovation, the opening up of new venues of research, and the influx of new
386 categories of analysis, stopped short of a critical examination of core characteristics
387 of Bolshevik-identified Soviet modernity and their applicability across the century.
388 Using a single cultural key to the whole Soviet history, Kotkin merged the pre-war
389 period into the post-war period. He also ended up reproducing a new version of
390 the old antithesis of ‘Bolshevism’ and ‘the West’. This time, the binary was located
391 inside (rather than outside) the master category of the modern under the rubric of
392 an alternative modernity.
393 Methodological Ramifications
394 Over the last decade and a half, Kotkin’s interpretation of Soviet alternative modernity
395 has had a deep impact on the field of modern Russian history in the US and British
396 academies. It has contributed to the solidification of a general academic presumption
397 that the nearly century-long Soviet experiment, no matter how dynamic, ambiguous,
398 contradictory and changing, operated nevertheless with static underlying basic
399 principles. ‘Fixed ideas’ or ‘cherished ideals’ or ‘fundamental tenets’ have become
400 stable tropes and casual invocations in scholarly work on modern Russia. The
401 perpetuation of the disciplinary belief in basic principles of Soviet modernity thus
402 has a history of its own. The constitution of the discipline’s subfield of post-war
403 studies and its reliance on Kotkin’s work and several other seminal texts in cultural
404 history is a case in point. My intention here is not to offer a comprehensive review
405 of the growing scholarship on the post-war Soviet Union. Rather, the goal is to pose
33 Kotkin,‘Modern Times’, 124, 132–3, 139; see also, Kotkin, Armageddon Averted, 47.
34 ForKotkin’s commentary on the official usage of such terms of Soviet ideology as ‘Soviet’, ‘socialist’,
‘Bolshevism’ as synonyms, see Kotkin, Magnetic Mountain, 225.
406 methodological questions that have not been raised so far about scholarly approaches
407 to the study of Soviet society after the Second World War. 35
408 For example, the two field-shaping cultural studies of Bolshevik-Soviet modernity
409 that followed the publication of Magnetic Mountain – Igal Halfin’s From Darkness
410 to Light: Class, Consciousness, and Salvation in Revolutionary Russia (1999) and Oleg
411 Kharkhordin’s The Collective and the Individual in Russia: A Study of Practices (1999) did
412 not treat the terms, that is the content, of the Bolshevik creed and subsequent Soviet
413 ideology as a problematic question of analysis.36 Instead, what the two contributions
414 had in common with Kotkin’s methodological approach was their agenda to study
415 Bolshevik ideology as practice. Or in other words, the known fundamentals of
416 Bolshevik modernity were not questioned but applied. The parallel exploration of
417 fundamental affinities between Bolshevik politics and western and eastern religious
418 and philosophical traditions that the two books undertook as well also did not offer
419 a reinterpretation of the familiar terms of the Bolshevik-Soviet cultural project.37
420 Kharkhordin’s approach to Bolshevism, in particular, featured the proletarian
421 collectivist imperative as the governing constant of the Soviet non-capitalist
422 modernising mission from the Russian Revolution to Gorbachev’s perestroika.
423 Analysing processes through which the Bolshevik agenda became the Soviet people’s
424 spoken and lived reality, he offered a close reading of ‘practices of collective
425 formation and collective self-examination’. His interpretation invariably equated the
426 official realm of Soviet cultural production with the rule of the collectivist ideal.
427 Especially during the post-war years, argued Kharkhordin, the ‘collectivization-of-
428 life campaign’ aimed at ‘spotting and forcing into a kollectiv those rare individuals
429 who still somehow existed on their own in the interstices of the system’. Those
430 individualising practices that Kharkhordin’s study did discover were explained as
431 unintentional and ironic by-products of the collectivist agenda. In The Collective and
432 the Individual, they existed in ‘informal’, that is not Soviet, spaces and subcultures of
433 the Soviet society.38
434 The controversial birth of the subfield of subjectivity studies in the late 1990s
435 and early 2000s also happened to skip a critical step of pointed examination of the
436 core terms of the Bolshevik Marxist creed and its applicability to the Soviet period
437 as a whole. Its pioneers did not question Kotkin’s longue durée narrativisation of
35 For a historiographical review of scholarship on the post-war Soviet Union, see Mariam Dobson, ‘The
Post-Stalin Era: De-Stalinization, Daily Life, and Dissent’, Kritika: Explorations in Russian and Eurasian
History, 12, 4 (2011), 905–24.
36 Igal Halfin, From Darkness to Light: Class, Consciousness, and Salvation in Revolutionary Russia (Pittsburgh,
PA: University of Pittsburgh Press, 1999); Oleg Kharkhordin, The Collective and the Individual in Russia.
A Study of Practices (Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 1999).
37 Halfin, for example, invited his readers to ‘move Marxism from the status of subject to the status of object
of historical analysis’. Treating the Bolshevik world-view as a discursive practice that, among many
things, aimed at proletarianisation of Soviet state and identity politics, he investigated ‘how historical
figures interpreted their historical present and located themselves along the temporal continuum ranging
from capitalism to communism’. After focusing on the decade of the 1920s in From Darkness to Light,
he later extended his analysis into the 1930s and beyond. Halfin, From Darkness into Light, 2.
38 Kharkhordin, The Collective and the Individual, 279–80, 320, 337–9; see also 294–8.
438 Soviet history or his implicit presumptions. As a result, pioneers of the subfield were
439 preoccupied not so much with questioning the accepted anti-individualist, that is
440 ‘illiberal’, to use Jochen Hellbeck’s term, core of the Soviet Bolshevik agenda but
441 with exploring how deeply the Bolshevik world-view was internalised by Soviet
442 subjects. Hellbeck’s seminal contribution was devoted to a thorough analysis of
443 existent continuities between official languages of Soviet illiberal modernity and
444 intimate conversations and self-interrogations that Soviet people conducted on the
445 pages of their diaries. The modern subject that Hellbeck retrieved from 1930s diaries
446 displays a great deal of apprehension about traces of what might be construed as
447 individualist inclinations and spends much time policing him or herself against them.39
448 Perhaps the most problematic appearance of Kotkin’s Bolshevik-identified script of
449 Soviet modernity has occurred in the scholarship on post-war Soviet society. During
450 the last fifteen years, this subfield has undergone an exciting boom that manifested
451 itself in a steady stream of publications, conferences and talks—particularly edited
452 volumes bringing together scholars of different generations united by the goal of
453 rethinking the post-war period.40 The most striking feature of this new scholarly
454 effort is not even the fact that the scholarly narratives and analytical categories
455 developed for the period from 1900 to the 1930s were applied to the post-war period
456 but that this transfer took place without a critical discussion. How much explanatory
457 currency should the academic language developed to analyse the Bolshevik dream
458 about Russian modernity be given in research on a society that actually became
459 modern? This question has not been posed.
460 Instead, scholars of the post-war Soviet Union took it for granted that there
461 existed a fundamental affinity between the Bolshevik vision of alternative ‘modern
462 times’ and what they referred to as post-war ‘key Soviet values’, ‘official values’,
463 ‘Soviet ideology’, ‘official Soviet normative code’, and ‘normative statements’.41 The
464 presumption of stable ‘key values’ of Soviet modernity has become the subfield’s
465 shared starting point. As a result, ‘key values’ /or ‘Soviet ideology’ /or ‘Bolshevik
466 ideology’ are routinely used interchangeably and do not always enjoy an explicit
467 articulation of meanings they contain. Indeed it has become an accepted practice
468 in academic literature on the Soviet post-war period to provide, where necessary,
39 Jochen Hellbeck, Revolution on my Mind: Writing a Diary under Stalin (Cambridge, MA: Harvard
University Press, 2006).
40 See Lewis Siegelbaum, ed., Borders of Socialism: Private Spheres of Soviet Russia (Basingstoke: Palgrave
Macmillan, 2006); Polly Jones, ed., The Dilemmas of De-Stalinization: Negotiating Cultural and Social
Change in the Khrushchev Era (London: Routledge, 2006); Melanie Ilic and Jeremy Smith, eds, Soviet
State and Society Under Nikita Khrushchev (London: Routledge, 2009); Melanie Ilic and Jeremy Smith,
eds, Khrushchev in the Kremlin: Policy and Government in the Soviet Union, 1953–1964 (London: Routledge,
2011); Susan E. Reid and David Crowley, eds, Style and Socialism: Modernity and Material Culture in
Post-War Eastern Europe (Oxford: Berg, 2000).
41 See, e.g. Dobson, ‘The Post-Stalin Era’, 918; Lewis Siegelbaum, ‘Introduction: Mapping Private Spheres
in the Soviet Content’, in Borders of Socialism, 5; Juliane Fürst, ‘Friends in Private, Friends in Public:
The Phenomenon of the Kompaniia Among Soviet Youth in the 1950s and 1960s’, in Siegelbaum,
Borders of Socialism, 232.
469 a formulaic summing-up of the ‘key values’ of Soviet socialism and then to direct
470 interested readers to texts by Kotkin, Kharkhordin, and Hellbeck.
471 In the mid 2000s, a new book was added to this list of citable works – Alexei
472 Yurchak’s 2005 Everything Was Forever, Until It Was No More. Undertaking an
473 innovative anthropological study of the last Soviet generation, the book heavily relied
474 on what the author called an ‘authoritarian discourse’ to situate his historical subjects
475 in the last three decades of Soviet socialism. Reminiscent of Kotkin’s work but not
476 influenced by it, Yurchak presented his readers with a historical narrative about how
477 a multivalent, dynamic, and contradictory revolutionary language(s) of the 1910s–
478 1920s got reduced to a highly ‘formulaic,’ ‘standardized’, ‘predictable,’ and ‘fixed’
479 language of Marxism–Leninism in the 1960s–1980s. What was left of the revolutionary
480 discourse was a fixed repertoire of ‘predictable ideas’ traceable to original Bolshevik
481 articulations which the author briefly (and without references) discussed in the
482 introductory chapter. He invoked familiar ‘fundamentals’ of the Bolshevik socialist
483 creed ‘such as equality, community, selflessness, altruism, friendship, ethical relations,
484 safety, education, work, creativity, and concern for the future’. A few pages later, the
485 author pointed to the Bolshevik ideal of the New Man to clarify tenacious meanings
486 of aspired socialist subjectivity in the Soviet Union. In accordance with this ideal,
487 the Soviet citizen, Yurchak sooner reminded than informed his readers, was ‘called
488 upon to submit completely to party leadership’, to ‘cultivate a collectivist ethic’,
489 to ‘repress individualism’ as well as to ‘become an enlightened and independent-
490 minded’ member of socialist society. A presence of individualising currents or
491 undercurrents within Soviet mainstream culture that would allow a person to
492 reflect on his/her individuality and his/her relationship with socialist society was
493 consistently missing from Yurchak’s concise definitions. In Everything Was Forever,
494 the ‘authoritarian discourse’ is found in formal celebratory speeches, party and
495 komsomol official documents, routine bureaucratic reporting, public rituals, posters,
496 and slogans. Attached to core Bolshevik fundamentals and occupying a rather narrow
497 place within the giant of Soviet post-war cultural production, the ‘authoritarian
498 discourse’ nevertheless served the author as the privileged background through which
499 he analysed the making of the last Soviet generation.42
500 As a result, the reader of Everything Was Forever does find out how the last Soviet
501 generation positioned itself in relation to the ‘fixed and normalized discursive system’
502 of Marxism–Leninism. What is left unexplored is the question of how Yurchak’s
503 historical subjects related to those vast terrains of post-war Soviet culture that did
504 not make it into the book. The varied worlds of Soviet journalism, literature, film,
505 popularised social sciences did not speak the language of the ‘authoritative discourse’
506 while they did inform the way Soviet citizens got to know themselves and their
507 socialist contemporaneity.
508 Not by accident then, the subfield of post-war Soviet history shares its analytical
509 language with scholarship on the preceding period and with scholars who invoke
42 AlexeiYurchak, Everything Was Forever, Until It Was No More: The Last Soviet Generation (Princeton,
NJ: Princeton University Press, 2005), 8, 11, 13–14, see also Ch. 2.
510 characteristics of Bolshevik modernity. These characteristics include (1) the ambition
511 to ‘merge’ individual and collective interests and/or to ‘transcend’ the private–public
512 distinction and/or to ‘subordinate’ the former to the letter; (2) perpetual anxiety
513 over private and personal aspects of individuals’ lives and continuous failure to
514 treat the realm of privacy as private; (3) the general goal of raising a ‘community-
515 minded and mobilised’, ‘revolutionary’ and ‘heroic’ population, even though scholars
516 acknowledge that this goal increasingly lost momentum after the war.43
517 Since it was assumed that what the Soviet ideological-cultural project had in
518 store for the Soviet population did not change at the fundamental level after the
519 war, the emergent subfield concentrated its research efforts on Soviet society and
520 its interactions with that seemingly known ideological project. One aspect of this
521 research was devoted to the study of Soviet everyday life which produced many
522 novel research agendas such as citizens’ interactions with Soviet local and central
523 authorities, popular reactions to de-Stalinisation reforms, readers’ response to Thaw
524 publications, manifestations of rudimentary civil society, the rise of professional
525 subcultures, socialist consumption, individual single-family housing. Explicating the
526 conceptual grounding of this research in her 2011 historiographical essay ‘The Post-
527 Stalin Era’ in Kritika, Miriam Dobson, for example, explained that one of the subfield’s
528 guiding questions was to find out ‘how citizens who had, in Stephen Kotkin’s terms,
529 started to “speak Bolshevik” negotiated the sudden shift in rhetoric introduced when
530 Khrushchev attacked the “cult of personality” ’. This question asked on behalf of
531 the subfield and by one of the subfield’s leading scholars captured precisely what
532 pioneering scholars of the post-war Soviet Union considered to be already known
533 and what they intended to find out. What was known was that the language of post-
534 war Soviet society via which Soviet citizens made sense of things was ‘Bolshevik’.
535 What was not known was how it was applied onto new political developments
536 that did not undermine the core continuities of the Bolshevik project. Such self-
537 positioning of the subfield assumed direct relevance of Kotkin’s research to Russia
538 after the Second World War.44
539 This choice of turning the Bolshevik-identified framework into an a priori
540 working paradigm of post-war Russia has had serious methodological ramifications
43 The compilation of characteristics of Soviet ideology of modernity was drawn from multiple scholarly
monographs. For a comprehensive discussion of Bolshevik-Soviet ideology applied to the post-war
Soviet Union, see, for example, Siegelbaum, ‘Introduction’, 1–21.
44 Dobson, ‘The Post-Stalin Era’, 905. The subfield’s critical engagement with Oleg Kharkhordin’s work
in particular underlined scholarly investment in the general association of Soviet modernity with the
anti-individualist cultural script of Bolshevism. Scholars’ critique of Kharkhordin’s work, for example,
was directed at his argument about the successful effort of the post-Stalinist state to instil the collectivist
principle into the lives of ordinary Soviet citizens. This attempt to ‘collectivise’ post-war Soviet society,
argued such scholars as Steven E. Harris, Susan E. Reid, Christine Varga-Harris, Mark B. Smith,
Deborah Field, and Mariam Dobson, was not as successful as Kharkhordin implied. They pointed to
Soviet people’s resourcefulness in avoiding and subverting the campaign as well as to the emergence
of non-formal (i.e. outside the official ideological framework) professional, civic, and private cultures.
Thus, the very terms of their critique did not question Kharkhordin’s identification of Soviet modernity
with the collectivist imperative, but rather explored its limited impact on individuals’ lives. For an
analysis of the field’s engagement with Kharkhordin’s work, see Dobson, ‘Post-Stalin era’, 913–16.
541 for the kind of interpretive work the subfield has engaged in. My contention is
542 that, having become the subfield’s principal language of analysis, Kotkin’s anti-
543 individualist and collectivist categories do not match the riches of materials that
544 scholars working on the post-war Soviet Union have presented for analysis.
545 What remains outside scholarly attention, under-interpreted and insufficiently
546 attended to, is the proliferation of concepts and notions in post-war political
547 and popular culture the relationship of which to the Bolshevik project is yet
548 to be established. The concepts and notions that I have in mind are the ones
549 that scholars come across in their research, even incorporate into their writings,
550 but whose meanings they do not explore. They are multiple derivatives of
551 the ‘individual’ (individualnost, individuum, individualnyi), of the ‘person/personal’
552 (lichnost, lichnyi), of the ‘intimate’ (intimnyi). The sheer prominence and variation
553 of this apparent public preoccupation with the individual, unprecedented in the
554 Bolshevik tradition, deserve close scholarly attention. Moreover, post-war public
555 discourse on the individual needs to be explored not only in relation to the
556 Bolshevik project but also in relation to an arguably novel social language that
557 discussed the individual in terms of the ‘social good’ or the ‘social’ (obshchestvenno
558 poleznyi, obshchestvennyi, not necessarily identical with the ‘collective’) and, in the
559 context of ‘contemporary Soviet society’ (Sovetskoe sovremennoe obshchestvo), not
560 necessarily identical with the Bolshevik-derived academic concept of ‘modern Soviet
561 society’.
562 An example is in order here to explicate the limiting impact that the Bolshevik-
563 identified socialist framework had on the interpretive practice of the subfield. One
564 of the most thought-provoking pieces published about Soviet conceptualisations of
565 the individual and the public after the war is Juliane Fürst’s ‘Friends in Private,
566 Friends in Public: The Phenomenon of the Kompaniia Among Soviet Youth in the
567 1950s and 1960s’. Fürst engages her subject matter through a study of new forms
568 of post-war socialisation among young people, in particular the thriving culture
569 of semi-private gatherings of friends. Her analysis reveals a complexly structured
570 mindset in the post-war generation. In her words, post-war youth consciousness
571 encompasses a ‘desire to contribute to the collective good’ and simultaneous belief
572 ‘in the existence of individual and societal perfection’. To explain the rationale behind
573 the first part of this consciousness does not present Fürst with a difficulty. In fact,
574 one of the article’s goals is to demonstrate that the youth’s consciousness was far
575 from a complete escape from the Bolshevik paradigm but, on the contrary, was
576 inflected by its values of ‘communality’ and ‘equality’. What presents a problem is
577 the youth’s belief ‘in the existence of individual and societal perfection’, the belief
578 which features the ‘individual’ and the ‘societal’ as distinct (not a priori identified
579 or merged) entities and creditable experiences. However, the possibility of treating
580 ‘individual’ perfection as a distinguishable and credible dimension in the life of an
581 individual remains unexplored and unexplained by Fürst. If the author can tell us
582 exactly where the young people’s communal aspirations come from, she cannot
583 explicate where the idea of the self-righteous individual perfection comes from. The
584 author however assumes that it exists outside the conventional paradigm of Soviet
585 overtly collectivist modernity, that is outside the ‘official Soviet normative code’.45
586 In the following section I will explore the following possibility: What if the centring
587 of public attention on the individual in the context of ‘Soviet contemporary society’
588 constituted a post-Bolshevik, but nonetheless Soviet, and not necessarily subversive
589 cultural project in the Soviet Union?
590 A Post-Bolshevik Agenda for a Non-Market Industrial Society
591 Contrary to the persistent academic reliance on the notion of Bolshevik fundamentals,
592 I argue that, over the course of the twentieth century, the Bolshevik discourse on
593 alternative anti-individualist modernity gradually lost its central position in what
594 scholars call the ‘formal’ or ‘official’ realm of Soviet culture. It could hardly have been
595 otherwise as ever accelerating processes of urbanisation and social and professional
596 differentiation that came out of the jump-started industrialisation of the 1930s
597 continued to produce new structures of work, study, leisure and private life that
598 did not fit the Bolshevik dream. It is my contention in this section that the arrival
599 of modern industrial society to Soviet Russia announced itself with a novel public
600 conversation in the centre of official political culture about the modern individual and
601 society on terms formerly unavailable in Bolshevik discourse constrained, according
602 to academic literature, to anti-individualism and collectivism. As I will show below,
603 the discourse on modern individuals and ‘contemporary society’ was constituted by
604 a new language that operated out of synch with Kotkin’s account of Bolshevism. It
605 calls for a re-conceptualisation of Soviet modernity in its post-Bolshevik stage and
606 questioning of a seemingly unproblematic association between the ‘Bolshevik’ and
607 the ‘Soviet’, the socialist and the anti-individualist. One way to begin the process is
608 to question Kotkin’s master narrative of stagnation.
609 Just a quick glance at available socio-demographic analyses of Soviet society
610 before and after the war should immediately raise questions over whether or not
45 Fürst, ‘Friends in Private’, 242–4, 232. For similar interpretive choices, see, e.g. Steven Harris, ‘In Search
of Ordinary Russia: Everyday Life in the NEP, the Thaw, and the Communal Apartment’, Kritika:
Explorations in Russian and Eurasian History 6, 3 (2005), 583–614; Ann Livshchiz, ‘De-Stalinizing Soviet
Childhood: The Quest for Moral Rebirth, 1953–1958’, in Jones, eds, The Dilemmas of De-Stalinization,
117–34. For Harris as for other scholars working on post-war single family housing and the ‘quest for
privacy’, individuality continued to be seen as being at odds with the post-war socialist project. See
also his ‘ “I Know All the Secrets of my Neighbours” : The Quest for Privacy in the Era of the Separate
Apartment’, in Siegelbaum, Borders of Socialism, 171–89. See also Deborah Field’s path-breaking work
on understanding and practices of private life in the post-war Soviet Union in which she tends to
privilege the account of the Soviet public discourse on private life that proclaims ‘private interests’ as
being ‘identical to public goals’ and thus frames it in reductive Bolshevik terms. Deborah A. Fields,
Private Life and Communist Morality in Khrushchev’s Russia (New York: Peter Lang, 2007), 6. One of the
most prolific and innovative directions of the subfield dealing with socialist consumer culture has yet
to directly address the relevance of Bolshevik sensibilities and anxieties to individualising discourses
and practices of Soviet consumption, see Susan E. Reid, ‘The Meaning of Home: “The Only Bit of
the World You Can Have to Yourself”’, in Siegelbaum, Borders of Socialism; David Crowley and Susan
E. Reid, eds, Pleasures in Socialism: Leisure and Luxury in the Eastern Bloc (Evanston, IL: Northwestern
University Press, 2010); Susan E. Reid and David Crowley, Style and Socialism.
611 this stagnation-narrative can serve the discipline as a comprehensive account for all
612 aspects of Soviet modernity. If one assesses the post-war development of the Soviet
613 Union from a sociological and social demographic point of view, one can hardly
614 characterise it as falling back on its 1930s patterns, as Kotkin proposes. Rather,
615 according to this other account, the post-war years that figure in Kotkin’s study as
616 years of unrealised opportunities for change experience nothing less than a profound
617 social transformation.
618 In striking contrast to the tale of stagnation that Kotkin derives from Soviet
619 economic development, the socio-demographic account assigns watershed events to
620 the post-war period in the social history of the Soviet Union. It is, for example,
621 only by the 1970s that the pre-war and post-war urbanisation booms produce a
622 dominantly urban society with 58% of the population living in new urban spaces
623 and entertaining specifically urban expectations of quality and style of living. The
624 post-war years also see the expansion of the professional middle class into a mass class,
625 growing at a rate surpassing that of workers – increasing from 11 million in 1941 to
626 35 million in 1983.46 Instead of a stagnating modernity stuck in the pre-war decade,
627 one encounters a modernity the history of which only begins in the 1930s.
628 The arrival of this urban and middle-class-inflected socialist modernity naturally
629 came with individualising routines of urban living, and the alienating and the allegedly
630 individualist self-centredness of intellectual labour that the Bolsheviks had sworn to
631 overcome. On the contrary, as many scholars have demonstrated, individualising
632 habits were inherent to socialist modernity, regardless of its non-market orientation.
633 Scholars, however, tend to assume that in the case of the Soviet Union individualising
634 practices of modernity were not accompanied by individualising culture. In the midst
635 of socialist industrialisation in the 1930s subtly differentiated groups (and later an army)
636 of workers had already begun to appear, workers engaged in so-called intellectual
637 labour – the technical, scientific, managerial and artistic middle class. Their career
638 choices and the very principle of professional preparation relied on the presupposition
639 of individual aptitude and innate predispositions. Their professional modus operandi
640 at school, university, office and lab desks relied on numerous individualising routines
641 of studying and problem solving, that is activities requiring solitude and time with
642 oneself. The full package of Soviet modernity, as is also well known, encompassed
643 expectations of different forms of privacy inside a single family apartment, this eagerly
644 sought-after space for private leisure time and romantic intimacy.47
46 Moshe Lewin, The Gorbachev Phenomenon: A Historical Interpretation (Berkeley, CA: University of
California Press, 1989), 31, 46. By 1985, the Soviet population became predominantly urban by 1985
and constituted 65% of the total population, Lewin, Gorbachev Phenomenon, 31; see also Basile Kerblay,
Modern Soviet Society (New York: Pantheon Books, 1983).
47 For the best and most comprehensive analysis of Soviet post-war industrial society with its
modern professionally differentiated social structure, individualising practices of intellectual work, and
accompanying discourses on the individual in social sciences, see Lewin, The Gorbachev Phenomenon
and Political Undercurrents in Soviet Economic Debates: From Bukharin to the Modern Reformers (Princeton,
NJ: Princeton University Press, 1974). Lewin’s core ideas about post-war Soviet society can be already
found in his essay, ‘Society and the Stalinist State in the Period of the Five Year Plans’, Social History, 1,
2 (1976), 139–76; also Ronald Grigour Suny, ‘Living in the Soviet Century: Moshe Lewin, 1921–2010,
645 According to the standard way of understanding this story of a dramatic social
646 transformation, the familiar modern individual – torn away from tangible experience
647 of labour and inserted into a myriad self-focused routines of work and leisure – turns
648 out to be no less structurally necessitated by the demands of a socialist non-market
649 industrial society than by its capitalist counterpart. Or in other words, the Bolshevik
650 dream of collectivist proletariat-like non-alienated modernity appears to be doomed
651 the moment the Bolshevik leadership decided to go ahead with its industrialisation
652 plan in the late 1920s.
653 The point of this very brief socio-demographic detour is not however to point out,
654 one more time, the striking structural affinities between socialist and capitalist patterns
655 of industrialisation and modernisation. It is to ask what happens to the discursive
656 cultural realm of Soviet modernity when the modern alienated and self-focused
657 individual becomes a mass social phenomenon? According to the master narrative
658 of stagnation which Kotkin models after the stagnating logic of Soviet economy,
659 nothing reminiscent of a qualitative change happens. In Kotkin’s key publications,
660 Soviet ideology and culture replicate de facto the historical fate of Soviet economy.
661 Another possible plot, one drawing on the dramatic transformation of Soviet
662 society’s routines of socialisation and individualisation, has, so far, enjoyed at best
663 a subsidiary role in the subfield of cultural history. Neither Kotkin nor cultural
664 historians who rely on his work treat the social dimension of Soviet modernity as a
665 consequential context for rethinking core cultural parameters of the Soviet socialist
666 imagination. Instead, they use it as a background which challenges the Bolshevik
667 systems of values but does not change it. In the case of Kotkin, as we have seen, his
668 attention to the rise of a Soviet mass society does not disturb the story of the fixity
669 of Bolshevik-Soviet ideology.
670 The main problem with this scholarly account of synchronic stagnation of the
671 economic and the cultural realm is that it asserts that the dramatic transformation
672 of Soviet routines of work, leisure and private life somehow managed to unfold
673 without affecting the key values of Soviet socialist imagination. It is thus assumed
674 that the strikingly non-Bolshevik face of modern Soviet society was stubbornly
History Workshop Journal, 74, 1 (2012), 192–209 for an analysis of Lewin’s study of social transformation
in Russia from the late 19th c. into the 1980s. For a different interpretive approach to post-war Soviet
society as a society of disenchanted, de-politicised and passive resisters see Vladimir Shlapentokh, Public
and Private Life of the Soviet People: Changing Values in Post-Stalin Russia (Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 1989); Vladimir Shlapentokh, The Politics of Sociology in the Soviet Union (Boulder, CO: Westview
Press, 1987); Vladimir Shlapentokh, Evolution in the Soviet Sociology of Work: From Ideology to Pragmatism
(Pittsburgh, PA: University of Pittsburgh, 1985). For an overview of pre-1980s scholarship on patterns
of social change within post-war Soviet society which approached the question through paradigms of
modernisation and convergence theory, see, e.g. reviews by Bertram Wolfe, ‘Russia and the USA: A
Challenge to the Convergence Theory’, The Humanist (Sept.–Oct., 1968); Alfred G. Meyer, ‘Theories
of Convergence’, in Chalmers Johnson, ed., Change in Communist Systems (Stanford, CA: Stanford
University Press, 1970), 313–42; Donald R. Kelley, ‘The Soviet Debate of the Convergence of the
American and Soviet Systems’, Polity, 6, 2 (1973), 174–96. See also David C. Engerman, Modernization
From the Other Shore: American Intellectuals and the Romance of Russian Development (Cambridge, MA:
Harvard University Press, 2003).
675 discussed and criticised through the Bolshevik cultural mantra of anti-individualism
676 and collectivism.
677 To begin to challenge the academic convention, I turn to a historical example
678 which I have explored elsewhere and which falls outside the scholarly explication
679 of the modern Bolshevik credo of anti-individualism and collectivism. This is the
680 crisis of the Bolshevik world-view that began to unfold as early as the mid 1930s in
681 the Soviet press and the initially modest appearance of what I propose to consider
682 as a new post-Bolshevik Soviet language and system of values. The crisis ensued
683 when Komsomol and Party activists of the revolutionary generation together with
684 Soviet journalists encountered the novel social reality of industrial modernity, that is
685 the first post-revolutionary generation of Soviet high school and university graduates
686 who began joining the thin but growing ranks of the Soviet middle class in the mid
687 1930s. In the 1930s press, public discourse made sense of these young people heading
688 for white-collar jobs and white-collar life styles in at least two distinct ways.48
689 One mode in which this phenomenon was addressed is familiar to scholars of
690 modern Russia. Using it, actual historical subjects addressed the new face of Soviet
691 industrial modernity by drawing on the Marxist-Bolshevik accusatory narrative of
692 embourgeoisement, providing de facto a Marxist-Bolshevik critique of emerging
693 non-Bolshevik modernity. In Pravda, such a critique was, for example, personified by
694 a stunned Komsomol worker-activist writing to the newspaper about the uncanny
695 resemblance of the young post-revolutionary generation – supposed to be a collectivist
696 ‘New Man’ generation – to ‘bourgeois’ classes of the former regime. Such a
697 Komsomol activist was certainly ‘speaking Bolshevik’ when complaining about
698 educated professional youth. To him, instead of being ‘new’, young people appeared
699 to lack proletarian class consciousness and to exhibit alarming individualist habits
700 such as a need of privacy and seeming inconsistency between their public and private
701 personas. As a result, in the eyes of the older revolutionary generation, they looked
702 bourgeois, non-collectivist, individualist.49
703 Since the 1940s, a similar critique of the Soviet Bolshevik project has been
704 deployed by scholars examining the changing socio-political terrains of Stalinist
705 Russia. In her 1976 landmark study, Vera Dunham, for example, interpreted changes
706 in popular representation of Soviet society under Stalin, including a new attention
707 to the individual and his or her private needs, in terms of the system’s retreat
708 from Bolshevik socialist values and subsequent embrace of the pre-revolutionary
709 ‘bourgeois’ sensibilities of the middle classes that had miraculously survived the
710 Bolshevik rule. What Dunham and Kotkin, who otherwise is an ardent critic of
711 the Retreat paradigm share, is an assumption that there was nothing more to the
712 Soviet socialist project than Bolshevism. Or in other words, that Soviet socialism was
48 For a full explication of the crisis of Bolshevism during the second half of the 1930s, see Anna Krylova,
‘Identity, Agency, and the “First Soviet Generation” ’, Stephen Lovell, ed., Generations in Twentieth-
Century Europe (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2007), 101–21.
49 See, e.g. A. Koroteev, ‘Nabolevshie voprosy Komsomolskoi raboty’ (‘Urgent questions of the
Komsomol work’), Pravda, 7 June 1940 and S. Obraztsov, ‘Kto vinovat?’ (‘ Who is to blame?’),
Pravda, 11 Aug. 1940 cited in Anna Krylova, ‘Identity, Agency’, 106, 110.
713 identical with Bolshevism. Following this rationale, Dunham equated disruptions and
714 marginalisation of the Bolshevik master language in Soviet popular literature with the
715 end of the socialist project itself. For her, the new attention to the individual and his
716 or her small world in Soviet literature was not socialist. Kotkin, on the other hand,
717 insisted that core Bolshevik values continued to inform Soviet politics, economy
718 and culture both before and after the war. The underlying consensus of these two
719 approaches is that Soviet society did not generate any other socialist cultural forms
720 besides Bolshevik ones. Caught in between these two dominant academic traditions,
721 Soviet modernity de facto has but two options: to betray—necessarily Bolshevik—
722 socialist values or to stay within their parameters.50
723 Although scholars investigating official culture in the 1930s tend to look through
724 the lens of a Bolshevik critic, the press coverage of disturbing features of emerging
725 socialist industrial modernity was carried well beyond the limits of Bolshevik
726 sensibilities. In fact, as my current research shows, it was around the mid 1930s
727 that a novel language (formerly missing from the official realm) had to be invented
728 by Soviet journalists to overcome the poverty of the Bolshevik collectivist vision
729 of the proletariat-styled ‘New Man’. The Bolshevik project simply did not have a
730 language to address a modern society that was more and more defined by complexly
731 differentiated social and professional groups, and structurally dependent on societal
732 attention to individual aptitude and the inclinations of its citizens. Using the Bolshevik
733 canon journalists could only critique the resultant Soviet modernity. Gradually
734 constructing what I call the post-Bolshevik and nevertheless Soviet language, they
735 began to cover cultural phenomena of socialist non-market modernity that did not
736 fit the collectivist paradigm.
737 In the Soviet press in the 1930s, journalists covered schoolchildren and university
738 students who investigated their individual predispositions and talents, explored the
739 growing maze of modern professions in relation to themselves, and feared to discover
740 that they were talentless and mediocre individuals. They personified, I argue, the
741 post-Bolshevik person of Soviet modernity. Contrary to the Bolshevik discourse on
742 the New Man who was to merge with the collective and to derive himself from it,
743 the post-Bolshevik discourse posited a modern socialist individual as consisting of
744 distinct personal (lichnoe) and social (obshchestvennoe) dimensions.51
745 Far from being synonymous with the ‘Bolshevik’, the post-Bolshevik discourse, I
746 contend, was used to resolve the conceptual crisis of how to address the generation
747 which modern professionalisation had clearly removed from the idealised collectivist
748 practices of the working class. Already in the mid 1930s, the influx of new terms,
50 See Vera Dunham, In Stalin’s Time: Middleclass Values in Soviet Fiction (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 1976); see also Nicholas S. Timasheff, The Great Retreat: The Growth and Decline of Communism
in Russia (New York: Dutton, 1946). For Kotkin’s critique of the ‘retreat paradigm’ as well as Moshe
Lewin’s and Sheila Fitzpatrick’s arguments that Stalinism constituted a ‘reversal’ of the Bolshevik project,
see Kotkin, Magnetic Mountain, 2–6.
51 For a full analysis of the emerging post-Bolshevik discourse in the mid 1930s, see Anna Krylova,
‘On “Being Soviet” and “Speaking Bolshevik”: Disentangling Histories and Historiographies of the
Socialist Self’, under revision to be submitted to Kritika: Explorations in Russian and Eurasian History.
749 which persevered and flourished after the war and await a researcher, is clearly
750 visible. Opening a conversation over such new issues as the actual face of Soviet
751 industrial modernity, Soviet journalists steered away from the militant 1920s critique
752 of ‘bourgeois individualism’ by introducing elements of a new post-Bolshevik cultural
753 language. There appeared a positive notion of the Soviet word for ‘personal’ (lichnyi)
754 and many derivatives of the ‘individual’ (individualnyi) next to 1920s ‘individualism’
755 (individualism); the ‘social’ (obshchestvennyi) and the ‘socially useful’ gained cultural
756 currency next to the 1920s ‘collective’; the ‘intimate’ (intimnyi mir) came back into
757 Soviet reporting as a necessary part of the ‘personal’.52
758 New official clichés of ‘connecting’ and ‘combining’ the personal with the social
759 began to compete with Bolshevik ideals of ‘merging’ oneself or deriving oneself from
760 the collective. The social imperative to ‘connect’ one’s personal life with the life of
761 Soviet modern society implies a differentiation and a relationality between the two
762 realms. It is a conceptual break from the Bolshevik ideal which, in accordance with
763 the academic analysis explicated here, explicitly rejects a differentiation between the
764 individual and the collective. This new language, I believe, captures for us a new face
765 of Soviet modernity and opens a new research agenda.
766 Conclusion: A Post-Bolshevik Modernity and the Fate of the Multiple

767 Modernities Thesis
768 My contention here is that what was under way in the cultural realm of 1930s Soviet
769 society was the making of a new post-Bolshevik language of Soviet modernity.
770 Having begun in the centre of Soviet national press in the mid 1930s, this
771 development constitutes a precursor to the post-war preoccupation with the modern
772 socialist individuals and their new social surroundings in press, literature, film and
773 social sciences.53 Accommodating individualising discourses, this emerging language
774 signalled the beginning a fundamental restructuring of the relationship between
775 individual and society away from the Bolshevik collectivist imperative.
776 Two aspects of my argument should be emphasised. First, I do not see the mid
777 1930s as a Bolshevik/post-Bolshevik divide. Rather, it was a launching point in a long
778 and uneven process of cultural change that took half a century to unfold and expanded
779 the boundaries of Soviet culture and modernity. The post-Bolshevik language and
780 new system of values that accompanied it did not wipe out Bolshevik sensibilities
781 overnight. Rather than evoke the historical metaphor of a ‘divide’, I suggest that of
52 See for example, E. Kononenko, ‘Mechty o slave’ (‘Dreams about glory’), Komsomolskaia Pravda (KP),
5 Aug. 1937; A. Konev and L. Kara-Stoianova, ‘Obyvateli s diplomom’ (‘Philistines with Diplomas’),
KP, 24 July 1938; ‘Po-bolshevitski podderzhat zamechatelnyi pochin’ (‘Bolshevik Support for the
Remarkable Undertaking’), KP, 11 July 1938, cited in Anna Krylova, ‘A History of the “Soviet” ’,
See also, V. Goldberg, ‘Bliustiteli “nravstvennosti” ’ (‘Policemen of Morality’), KP, 3 Mar. 1937; E.
Kononenko, ‘Iunoshi i devushki’ (‘Young Men and Young Women’), KP, 22 June 1938.
53 For an analysis of both individualising practices of Soviet industrial society and the discourse on the
individual in Soviet social sciences, see Lewin, The Gorbachev Phenomenon and Political Undercurrents in
Soviet Economic Debates.
782 a gradual and never complete ‘de-centring’ of the Bolshevik cultural formation with
783 the post-Bolshevik one. Second, my argument about the expanding boundaries of
784 Soviet culture is not about the rise of the individual in place of the collective but
785 about a shift in conceptualisations of the relationship between the socialist self and
786 society (or collective) away from the Bolshevik refusal to differentiate between the
787 two. What I posit here is a modern socialist discourse that encompasses the individual and
788 the social. I also propose the ‘post-Bolshevik’ as a new periodisation marker.
789 The larger agenda of this essay is to invite an epistemic interpretive shift in
790 our approaches to Soviet non-market industrial modernity. I contend that Kotkin’s
791 stagnation model of Soviet modern society as a totality synchronised in its post-
792 war non-development of economic, cultural, ideological and political spheres is
793 insufficient to capture the complexity of historical change in the Soviet Union. The
794 account of Soviet modernity proposed here is that of uneven development, which in
795 fact encompasses several visions and practices of modernity. It puts a new approach to
796 the study of Soviet modernity on the field’s agenda, one which suggests that social,
797 cultural, economic, ideological and political dimensions develop along trajectories
798 that are not automatically synchronised and offer different narratives of change and
799 continuity.54
800 Before we revisit the thesis of multiple modernities that Kotkin uses to present
801 Soviet industrial modernity as a solid (though failed) twentieth-century alternative to
802 capitalism, new venues of research into the uneven Soviet socialist experiment need
803 to be pursued.55 The historically specific terms of post-Bolshevik socialist culture
804 – its discourses on the individual and this individual’s relationship with the ‘social’
805 (obshchestvennyi), not necessarily identical with the ‘collective’, in the context of
806 the ‘contemporary Soviet society’ (Sovetskoe sovremennoe obshchestvo) not necessarily
807 identical with the academic concept of ‘modern Soviet society’ – are among the
808 urgent issues to be explored by intellectual and cultural historians.
809 Moreover, the ‘fixed ideas’ of the Soviet project cannot be successfully questioned
810 without an engaged conversation with current scholarship on Eastern Europe.56 Nor
54 On new direction in Soviet economic history, see Oscar Sanchez and Andrew Sloin ‘Economy and
Power in the Soviet Union, 1917–1939’, Kritika: Explorations in Russian and Eurasian History, 15, 1
(2014).
55 In his forthcoming collection of essays, Michael David-Fox continues his investigation of the concept
of ‘multiple modernities’ with a special attention to ‘the cultural or civilizational particularities that lie
at the heart of the theory of “multiple modernities” ’, see Michael David-Fox, ‘The Intelligentsia, the
Masses, and the West: Particularities of Russian-Soviet Modernity’, forthcoming in Michael David-Fox,
Crossing Borders: Modernity, Ideology, and Culture in Soviet Russia, 1921–1941 (Pittsburgh, PA: University
of Pittsburgh Press, forthcoming).
56 Scholars working on Eastern Europe have begun to question the essential parameters and fixed values of
allegedly opposing systems of socialism and capitalism. In The Currency of Socialism: Money and Political
Culture in East Germany (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007), Jonathan Zatlin, for example,
offers a complex relational analysis (informed by methodologies of economic and cultural histories) of
intertwining developments of East Germany’s financial, economic, political and popular cultures. Paul
Betts in Within Walls: Private Life in the German Democratic Republic (Oxford: Oxford University Press,
2010) makes a welcome intervention in the issues of socialist privacy and private spaces by working out
an interpretive approach that allows him to treat ‘privacy’ of socialist subjects as established entitlement,
811 can it be done without a parallel questioning of the assumed formulaic parameters
812 of the Soviet Union’s conceptual other – twentieth-century liberalism and market
813 capitalism. An integration of the complex and variegated history of the twentieth-
814 century liberal and economic thought that was preoccupied with the question of the
815 individual and the social, and with encompassed positions varying between welfare
816 liberalism and neo-liberalism seems to be paramount for producing a rethinking of
817 Soviet socialism.57
818 To conclude, the alternative modernity claimed on behalf of the Soviet Union
819 needs to be opened up to new and counter-intuitive questions about dynamically and
820 unevenly developing Soviet society and its participation in (rather than rejection of)
821 the twentieth century’s conversation about modern individuals’ complex relationship
822 to their industrial society. Regardless of our conclusions at the end of this questioning,
823 the history of socialism in twentieth century will acquire a new chapter.
existing in a dialectical tension with state power and public sphere. Katherine Pence and Paul Betts, eds,
Socialist Modern: East German Everyday Culture and Politics (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press,
2008) explores notions and practices of East German modernity as ‘viable’ difference (not a categorical
oppositional reality). Kyrill Kunakovich’s 2013 Princeton PhD thesis, ‘In Search of Socialist Culture:
Culture and Politics in Krakow and Leipzig, 1945–1970’, uncovers histories of qualitative change in
party and popular approaches to socialist culture and consumption in the People’s Republic of Poland
and the GDR. See also, Josie McLellan, Love in the Time of Communism: Intimacy and Sexuality in
the GDR (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2011); Jan Palmowski, Inventing a Socialist Nation:
Heimat and the Politics of Everyday Life in the GDR, 1945–1990 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
2009); Eli Rubin, Synthetic Socialism: Plastics and Dictatorship in the German Democratic Republic (Chapel
Hill, NC: University of North Carolina Press, 2008).
57 The literature on these subject matters is vast. Most recently, for example, James Hinton uncovered
a fascinating map of imaginable and enactable subject positions in wartime Britain that encompassed
and combined ideals of social solidarity and autonomous individuality, anti-social individualism and
expectations of self-realisation in the public sphere. James Hinton, Nine Wartime Lives: Mass Observation
and the Making of the Modern Self (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010).

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1 Soviet Modernity: Stephen

2 Kotkin and the Bolshevik

5 Introduction: the Paradoxically Familiar Face of Stephen Kotkin’s Socialism

Contemporary European History, 23, 2 (2014), pp. 167–192.

18 modernisation and presents it to non-Russian fields is perhaps overdue.2 Here, I

68 cultural formation is adequately captured by academic explications which treat

147 New Directions and ‘Fixed Ideas’ of Kotkin’s Soviet Modernity

148 The anti-capitalist and anti-individualist socialist concept of Soviet modernity

163 a ‘historically conditioned merger of long-held geopolitical objectives and potent

11 Kotkin, Magnetic Mountain, 12, 23, 364.

1951; citations from 1968 edn), 170–2.

27 Kotkin, Magnetic Mountain, see Ch. 5 ‘Speaking Bolshevik’, 198–237.

393 Methodological Ramifications

590 A Post-Bolshevik Agenda for a Non-Market Industrial Society

766 Conclusion: A Post-Bolshevik Modernity and the Fate of the Multiple

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