Dina Fainberg, Artemy
Kalinovsky, eds. Reconsidering Stagnation
in the Brezhnev Era: Ideology and Exchange. London: Lexington Books, 2016.
This edited volume
aims to do precisely what its title suggests: to reconsider the period of
Brezhnev’s tenure as the CPSU General Secretary in terms of historical change,
development, and the emergence of new trends. They start by looking at the
genealogy of this metaphor of ‘stagnation’ which they trace to Mikhail
Gorbachev’s attempts at political mobilization from 1986 on. This sentiment
was, in fact, shared by some contemporaries (they quote Anatoly Chernyaev’s
diary as an example). However, some of the contemporaries also noted the
increased complexity of Soviet society and politics, including urbanization and
education, improved agriculture, rising standards of living, the successful
cooptation of intellectual and non-Russian elites, and upward mobility (p. xi).
The editors conclude: “As one starts to add up the exception, the accuracy of
the term ‘stagnation’ begins to crumble” (p. xii). While attempting at the
deconstruction of this term, the editors stop short of offering another
conceptual framework: “The purpose of this volume is to push the discussion of
the Brezhnev era beyond the debate over the possibility of reform. We do not
seek to replace the stagnation narrative with a new story, but to examine the
Brezhnev era on its own terms and to situate it on the continuum of Soviet
history” (p. xiv).
Natalya Chernyshova in
her “Consumers as Citizens: Revisiting the Question of Public Disengagement in
the Brezhnev Era” suggests that the persistent interpretation of civic life in
terms of “privatization” and “disengagement,” esp. in regards to consumerism
(as in Shlapentokh) is misleading, as this argument misses that consumer
culture during the Brezhnev Era involved a great deal of public engagement,
such as writing letters to the state bodies and building social networks. The
chapters “highlight[s] the participatory character of Soviet shopping and show
how it was a collective, rather than individual, experience” (4). Even black
market was connected to the state in multiple ways, and dealing with the
problems of urban retail trade forced Soviet people to address the authorities
as citizens (4) – in other words, shopping did contribute to a changed
understanding of Soviet citizenship that the editors discussed in the
Introduction. Chernyshova starts by discussing how the structure of consumption
changed during the Brezhnev era: “Material well-being assumed a significant
role in making people feel good about themselves and society” (6), a claim
advanced by Soviet sociologists who studied tastes of Soviet people at that
time. Late Soviet consumerism, produced by the official state policies (which
implied that happy citizens will be happy workers), was in many ways very
similar to other forms of modern consumerism. Both officially and in practice
“consumption was a way to engage with the Soviet collective rather than isolate
oneself from it” (7). The forms of engagement include queueing, establishing
contacts with sales clerks, and even illegal activities. In contrast to James
Millar who argued about the “Little Deal” that the Soviet government
intentionally allowed its subjects to profiteer from the black market,
Chernyshova argues that it was caused by the inability of the penitentiary
system to deal with the scale of petty theft in the late USSR, which caused the
authorities to realize that “combatting underground practices through police
action would have little impact without serious changes to the entire economic
system” (11). Even (or perhaps especially) nomenklatura
was involved in the shadow economy (12). Foreign tourism and business trips
were another source of prestige commodities in Soviet society, sold either
privately or through a network of second-hand stores (14). “[I]n their capacity
as consumers, Soveit urbanites engaged with the state system almost on a daily
basis. They did not eschew state retail altogether but took initiative to adapt
it to their needs, for instance, by persuading salesclerks to hod back
high-demand goods for them, and to supplement it by acquiring things imported
by individuals rather than official trade organizations, by buying from
friends, colleagues, and profiteers… Consumers got increasingly enmeshed in a
complex network of goods circulation that did not necessariliy involve a simple
visit to a shop but which was not, nonetherless, disconnected from state retail
as well as other state institutions altogether” (15).
Simon Huxtable in “The
Life and Death of Brezhniev’s Thaw: Changing Values in Soviet Journalism after
Khrushchev, 1964-68” discusses the shift in journalism that followed the
dismissal of Khrushchev and transition to a more thorough political control over
it from the late 1960s on. Huxtable argues that this transition period was, in
fact, vibrant with hopes “in the press’s power to promote a new kind of
technocratic governance, based on rational discussion of the country’s needs
through publicistic writing and criticism” (22). These hopes were a product of
the Thaw that a new professional ethos
“which included an innate sense of ethical responsibility and a shared
sense of professional goals,” including striving for intellectual and professional
autonomy (Ibidem). Under Khrushchev, journalists reconceptualized their
profession in terms of public control over officials (although usually low- and
mid-level) and educating public opinion. In the four years after Khrushchev’s
dismissal, Soviet journalists tried to implement this ethos in their
professional activities. For example, some of the debates of that period sought
to “place Soviet journalism on a new, more scientific footing” (27). New forms
of writing (publitsistika) also
played as tools for journalists’self-fashioning as responsible Soviet subjects
(29) – Huxtable here loses an opportunity to place this argument within a
broader discussion of Soviet writing techniques as self-fashioning tools
(Hellbeck, Halfin, Pinsky, Kharkhordin, etc.). The journalists further tried to
use the officially sanctioned kritika i
samokritika to improve Soviet society (32), although this argument would
benefit by a quick discussion of how it was different from the journalism of
the 1930s that was all about kritika i
samokritika. This trend brought journalists into an increasing conflict
with bureaucracts: “a tension emerged between the need for the press to perform
a watchdog function in the interests of social transformation and the need to
maintain stability in the face of domestic and international tensions. Although
politicians were committed to change in principle, when it came to their own
fiefdoms, they were fiercely protective… Over time, it is not surprising that
fewer journalists were willing to risk attacking entrenched bureaucracy and
corruption, even if those remained the press’s officially mandated tasks” (34).
By 1968, this challenge from outside the party structures lead the Party
authorities to launch a campaign against the journal Zhurnalist, a flagship journal of Soviet journalism. This
represented the desire of the party apparatus to take back control over the
press, which was now supposed to focus on the criticism of outside threats and
ideological support of the party initiatives. Yet the ethos of ‘critical
journalism’ did not die during the 1970s and early 1980s, which prepared their
activities during the perestroika.
Lewis Siegelbaum in
“People on the Move during the ‘Era of Stagnation’: The Rural Exodus in the
RSFSR during the 1960s-1980s” examines the ‘third stage’ of rural outmigration
after World War II when “between 1959 and 1978, cities absorbed 1.5 million
rural migrants every year. Over the next census period (1978-88), the rate
declined to nine hundred thousand.” (46) Men led this process (partially due to
the vertical mobility channels offered through compulsory conscription).
Industry kept on its recruitment in the rural areas as well. Women followed men
(marital patterns), but also tried to move to the urban areas to improve their
living standards. Despite certain efforts to slow down or reverse this process,
it resonated with the dominant ideology, so no radical measures were taken by
the authorities (52). The rural outmigration led to the process of
‘liquidation’ of rural settlements.
Christian Noack in “Brezhnev’s
‘Little Freedoms’: Tourism, Individuality, and Mobility in the Late Soviet
Period” examines a conflict of two ideas of “proper” summer vacation: the
officially encouraged vacations provide by trade unions for its members, and
thus offered on an individual basis, vis-à-vis ‘wild’ (non-organized) tourism
that became increasingly popular among families during the late Soviet era. The
article suggests that, even though there was a push ‘from below’ to incorporate
family vacationing into the state-funded infrastructure, the beachside
infrastructure in the USSR did not provide a material basis for family vacationing,
and only well into the 1970s began to accommodate to the popular demand. Due to
these tensions, tourist officials came in the end to support individual
tourism, first of all, its motorized version. However, a huge influx of
motorized tourists to beach towns led to another set of problems: that with
parking, sleeping premises, and even water and food provision.
In Chapter 5, Andrey
Shcherbenok examines how the turn to the aesthetics of decay in late Soviet
cinema heralded the new ability of Soviet cinematographers to go around without
any authoritative discourse. In Chapter 6, Sari Autio-Sarasmo aims to reassess
the idea of “stagnation” by switching the focus from the Soviet competition
with the US to the Soviet cooperation with Finland and West Germany. Autio-Sarasmo
registers how the desire of Soviet leaders to modernize their industry led them
to create an intensive network of technical cooperation with Western countries
which, despite a discourse of stagnation, was active and effective throughout
the 1960s, 1970s and 1980s. This cooperation was facilitated by personal
contacts and commercial interests of western companies such as Nokia and
Siemens. However, this cooperation produced limited results as “the main
weakness was that the domestic R&D capabilities were unable to assist in
the adaptation and exploration of new technologies and the inability of the
system to generate innovations” (99).
Anna Gelzer in Chapter
7 “Stagnant Science? The Planning and Coordination of Biomedical Research in
the Brezhnev Era” compares two perspectives on biomedical research: the top-down
planning process in the Academy for Medical Sciences, which was extremely
complicated by the large and ineffective bureaucratic structure, and the activities
of the Moscow Institute of Oncology and, in particular, its director N.N.
Blokhin who rebuilt it into a comprehensive National Oncology Scientific
Center. In Chapter 8, Juliane Fürst discusses the evolution of a Moscow hippie
group, known as Sistema, from a
generally open student subculture that had a lot in common with Western hippies
to a much more limited and closed group under the pressure of the Soviet
authorities, and in doing so came to resemble a typically Soviet dissident/non-conformist
organization. Sistema existed in a
paradoxical symbiosis with the official state system of the Brezhnev era. Finally,
Courtney Doucette in Chapter 9 on Norton Dodge, an American collector of Soviet
unofficial art, and Simo Mikkonen in Chapter 10 on Soviet-Finnish musical exchanges
examine transnational networks of Soviet artists and musicians, respectively,
arguing that they were part and parcel of the international cultural milieu.