Reviews for Thank You, Comrade Stalin!: Soviet Public Culture from Revolution to Cold War

The average rating for Thank You, Comrade Stalin!: Soviet Public Culture from Revolution to Cold War based on 2 reviews is 3.5 stars.

Review # 1 was written on 2014-06-11 00:00:00 C P Hawley In Thank You, Comrade Stalin! Jeffrey Brooks engages Soviet political discourse through an analysis of the press during Stalin's regime. Arguing that it "contextualized the Soviet experience and imposed a structure on thinking even among non-believers", the author outlines the creation of a press monopoly that was theorized under Lenin but not fully realized until the Stalinist decades. By controlling the press, Stalin was able to construct a "moral economy" around the idea of the "gift", wherein economic relationships were represented as moral ones. In doing so, Stalin not only manufactured a system wherein the population was led to believe that they were indelibly indebted to the state, but converted public and popular culture from a sphere of rationality and experimentation into one of theatrical production and ritualistic certainty. Brooks' narrative begins in the pre-Stalin era, where control of the press became the first priority of the Bolshevik regime following their 1917 revolution. After taking over the press, the Bolsheviks utilized it as a forum for didacticism and introduced censorship alongside a bureaucratic regulation system. Nonetheless, Brooks claims, the press was not monopolized completely during this period. Efforts to garner input from the peasantry and reach an "ordinary" audience were stymied by distribution issues and elitist bias, while "interactive" spheres within the papers allowed for a limited degree of intellectual debate. Following a period of relative freedom under the New Economic Policy in the early 1920s, Stalin engaged in a systematic exclusion of his opponents from the press and, by 1928, had quashed all open political dissent and debate. Upon obtaining the physical means to reach the masses, the party dismantled what remained of system's independence and transformed it into a venue for the production of images and specific messages. The period from 1928 until World War II saw the emergence and negotiation of new tropes intended to inculcate society with particular ideological messages. Among the most important of these were a focus on the "socialist building" project, an emphasis on the "tasks" of the nation (which underlined the state's pedagogical and hierarchical role), and repeated references to a "path" (which involved the rhetorical creation of "leaders" taking charge of a journey), all of which encouraged reverence for those "above". The press was reduced to a didactic function and was closed to debate, allowing the state to present an image of domestic tranquility and accomplishment regardless of the actual circumstances. Moreover, due to his lack of a genuinely heroic past, Stalin needed to use the press to create his "charisma" and, through his control of imagery, the papers presented him as a man of unimpeachable character and talent with a close ideological proximity to Lenin. As time went on, the media portrayed Stalin as visually grander than Lenin in its depictions, and eventually left the latter out entirely. Stalin transformed his charisma into a national performance that was presented through the press and expected to be mimicked by the people. Another concept that expanded through Stalin's monopoly over the press was the idea of the Soviet citizens' indebtedness to the state. After manufacturing the image of Soviet society as the greatest in the world, the press then conceptualized this state of affairs as a "gift" from Stalin. It therefore promulgated the notion that the people owed everything to the government (and, of course, Stalin) for having been granted this "gift". Because it was meant to engender loyalty to the state and make the population fear that they would have a worse existence without Stalin, the implication was that the debt was one that could never be repaid. This was highlighted by the phenomenon of the Stakhanovite, who excelled at his duties and exceeded his quotas in a vain, yet cheerful and gracious, attempt to ingratiate himself to the state. As the 1930s progressed, Russification of the Soviet Union gained greater ground in ideological messages, while figures such as scientists, pilots, and explorers were celebrated routinely as examples of the exemplary Soviet citizen. These changes were observable not only in newspapers, but in literature and the arts as well. These realms had at first engaged voluntarily with Stalin's "socialist realism", which was intended to blur the line between fantasy and reality by amplifying heroics and celebrating the triumphs of everyday Soviet life. The range of what was acceptable to publish and discuss, however, grew increasingly narrow until, by 1934, the cultural sphere was subsumed entirely under the didactic and ideological imperatives of the state. In chapter six, Brooks introduces the rhetorical deployment of "honour" and "dishonour" by the state, which were dispensed freely to delineate a strict separation between insiders and outsiders. The trope of a lack of hygiene, for example, emphasized a new form of guilt wherein the perpetrator may not have done anything wrong, but was nonetheless "outside" of the system. Furthermore, after 1934, domestic enemies were no longer portrayed as treacherous conspirators who were foiled by the state's unfailing ability to protect its citizens (and thus drive them further into "debt"!), but as malicious figures capable of inflicting genuine harm. Moreover, these enemies multiplied as Stalin's ever-expanding greatness engendered resentment from more clever and cunning foes. Nonetheless, there was rarely a consistent portrayal of the "enemy". At the onset of the Soviet Union's involvement in World War II, the press shifted towards the objective of victory, which entailed a modification of strategies. Stalin, for example, who had dominated the ideological scene as the sole purveyor of all that was good about society, disappeared rapidly from the press. This permitted the emergence of new benefactors, such as generals and war correspondents, who were now allowed to claim credit for successes and reap glory. Other improvements included increased freedom for those in literature and art, the ability for journalists (rather than the state) to dispense honour and dishonour, and a new sense of the community as essential to the continued survival of state and deserving of gratitude (rather than merely owing it). Not all press conditions, however, improved during the war. Newspapers first reported on the Nazi invasion in ways that were so coded and misleading that they were essentially blatant lies. When even this was no longer feasible, these stories were replaced by a simple lack of information, which often endangered those within striking distance of the German armies. Moreover, the renewed freedom of the press did not last long. By 1945 Stalin was ubiquitous once more, now portrayed as a genius who had predicted, and then won, the war. Any semblance of a "civil society" that had emerged during the conflict was crushed, the intelligentsia lost what little freedom it had experienced, anti-Semitism was revived, and the state resumed its position as the sole purveyor of honour and dishonour. As the Cold War began, Stalin resumed his monopoly over the press, which demonstrated a new focus on constructing images of foreign affairs, a sphere that it had previously ignored. Foreigners were brought into the "moral economy" and presented as being as indebted to the Soviets' defense of communism as the Union's actual citizens. Life abroad was described as abysmal, particularly for those nations under capitalist control, while Russification became an even more dominant paradigm. Domestically, there was an emphasis on big projects that were yet another "gift" to the people, while problems of famine and repression were absent from the newspapers. Brooks concludes with a claim that while Stalin's systems survived his death, his charisma did not, and Soviet society and culture decayed because of its inability to accommodate globalization and because "it left little room for a critical commentary adequate to recognize its own defects and to provide a nuanced understanding of its accomplishments." Brooks' study is rigorous and comprehensive and he manages remain relatively engaging throughout. His work is lacking in some respects, although not all of these are the fault of the author. The most significant omission is the use of archival documents, which the author acknowledges, but justifies based on having begun the project prior to the opening of the Soviet collection and having found more material than he could deal with from Pravda alone. Despite this, it would have been interesting to see his findings supplemented by material that demonstrates explicitly what was going on in the minds of the individuals involved with the press monopoly. There is also a lack of substantial analysis on how the public internalized the regime's images and performances, although whether this would have improved the work or merely bogged it down is debatable. Moreover, Brooks leaves out one pivotal moment in the Soviet press' history, which was its decision during World War II to begin printing the truth (before, of course, returning to its old ways after the conflict). It would have been interesting to see how he interpreted this within the broader narrative. Overall, Thank You, Comrade Stalin! is an important work for its detailed analysis of the Soviet press and its ideological drive, even if it is lacking in some respects and presents a more traditional (in the sense that it assumes that these government plans had a significant impact on the lives of individuals and that the control worked) view of Soviet society. Nonetheless, it is important reading for anyone seeking to understand popular culture and the parameters set by organs of public culture such as the press.

Review # 2 was written on 2015-11-03 00:00:00 Brian Lynch In Thank You, Comrade Stalin!: Soviet Public Culture from Revolution to Cold War, Jeffrey Brooks has created an interesting and informative piece of work that delves into the heart of the Soviet press machine under the watchful eye of Joseph Stalin. At times long-winded and a little dense, it is nonetheless an important read for anyone who has an interest in the monumental power that newspapers possess, particularly when in the hands of those already blessed with significant influence in the first place.