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This contribution examines the way that the surprise of Khrushchevs secret speech
forced the Soviet party leadership to acknowledge public opinion. Before 1956, the
Soviet state paid lip service to the idea of public opinion, but paid no attention to it.
The outpouring of emotion and argument after the twentieth party congress made
policy makers take notice. In meetings throughout the country, Soviet citizens asked
hard questions and raised criticisms of the regime. By the end of 1956 however, the
party authorities reasserted themselves and denied the legitimacy of outside input in
public debates. Khrushchev and the others realised that the emerging public opinion
was incompatible with their belief in the leading role of the Communist party.
PUBLIC OPINION IS GENERALLY UNDERSTOOD AS AN IMPORTANT FACTOR in political
decision-making. It is also clear that such a thing does not really exist, in that there is
no real aggregate opinion. When people, however, treat it as if it is an actual phenomenon, it takes on real signicance. The aftermath of Khrushchevs secret speech of
1956 created conditions where both the party and many members of the public began
to feel as though Soviet public opinion was developing. Many imagined a public opinion that would help correct the mistakes of the regime and hoped that Khrushchev
would accept their input. The party leadership saw the emerging public opinion, which
often oered critical assessments of government policies, as a threat which needed to
be analysed and controlled. Thus, after 1956, the leadership became much more
interested in the phenomenon. This terminology entered Soviet vocabulary again and
the party became deeply concerned about what the average citizen thought. As part of
Khrushchevs attempts to reshape the Soviet Union, the party was forced to deal with
public opinion in ways that it had not since the 1920s.
Public opinion surveying, ubiquitous in modern Western democracies, often plays
an important role in shaping political decisions. This was not part of the process for
The author would like to acknowledge generous nancial support from the University of Wisconsin
Oshkosh Faculty Development Program, ACTR/ACCELS, and Duke University that made this
research possible.
ISSN 0966-8136 print; ISSN 1465-3427 online/06/081329-17 2006 University of Glasgow
DOI: 10.1080/09668130600996572
1330
KARL E. LOEWENSTEIN
the Soviet leadership. Although the state carried out extensive surveillance of its own
population, it was carried out by security organs. By Stalins time, such observation
had become part of a repressive apparatus, not a tool for analysing popular responses
to government policy. In the aftermath of the secret speech, Khrushchev and the
leadership of the Communist party were shocked to see the outpouring of opinion that
was generated by those words.
The twentieth Congress of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union (CPSU), held
in February 1956, traditionally was the beginning of a new period of openness in
Soviet history. Nikita Sergeevich Khrushchev, First Secretary of the CPSU, gave what
has become known as the secret speech late in the evening on 25 26 February,
denouncing the excesses of Joseph Stalins reign. It struck both Soviet society and the
world as a bombshell and has been generally considered to have changed the way that
people in the Soviet Union understood their own system.1 All of this is true, but the
point of this contribution is to think about the problems it generated. As well as being
important as the rst opening of Soviet society, the speech unleashed the forces of
public opinion beyond Khrushchevs wildest expectations.2 Khrushchev and the party
leadership did not want to open debate about Stalin, but wanted to set a new,
unquestioned course. Instead, the speech caused a great deal of confusion.
This contribution will examine three moments from the 10 months following the
secret speech that demonstrate the re-emergence of public opinion. First, party
meetings that were held throughout the country became forums for discussion. The
meetings were closed and summaries were not published in the press. They provided
an opportunity to ask questions, although discussion was not generally encouraged.
Very quickly, and encouraged by Khrushchevs vagueness, the participants began to
ask dicult questions of party leaders in ways that they had not done before. These
meetings demonstrate both the outpouring of individuals ideas about the secret
speech, and the depth of the party leaderships misunderstanding of public opinion.
Second, meetings of writers as well as readers occurred throughout 1956,
culminating in an open meeting of the prose section of the Writers Union in Moscow
in October. This meeting was part of a trend where ocial meetings became forums
for people to express their dismay at the current situation. The meeting in October
1956, like many others, was attended by thousands of people and a great number of
writers. Because of the large number of attendees and the way the discussion was held,
it became a signicant moment in dening the power of public opinion.
Finally, the Central Committee rejected the inuence of public opinion, issuing a
letter in December, entitled On strengthening the party organisation, political work
among the masses and cutting o the attacks of hostile, anti-Soviet elements. This
letter denounced most of what had been said in public since the twentieth Party
Congress. It was a document that stopped the transformation that seemed to be
underway. The letter itself was closed, and to be read only by party members. It was
1
Sergei Khrushchev makes this argument in his book Nikita Khrushchev and the Creation of a
Superpower (2000). For a summary of Russian appraisals of Khrushchev, see Nordlander (1993,
pp. 248 266). For an excellent political biography see Taubman (2003).
2
Most of the older work published about this period stresses the protest, but only in terms of
published works and their challenge to Socialist Realist conventions; see, for example, Gibian (1960)
and McLean and Vickery (1961).
1332
KARL E. LOEWENSTEIN
news media in other countries were reporting events important to the Soviet Union.
Usually, the story was about how public opinion in a country has rejected some action
or idea of the United States. For example, in 1957, the newspaper reported that public
opinion in West Germany had deep divisions across the political spectrum in reacting
to a letter sent by Bulganin. The article ended with this comment: we can already say
that there will be a discussion, which will be useful for strengthening our position.4
Thus, public opinion reappeared in Soviet life, though as a part of non-Soviet
societies.
When the threat of Stalinist arrest was lifted, meeting spaces inside the country
again became locations for heated discussions. In particular, literary arenas became
nexuses for public opinion. The great change after Stalins death was repeatedly
expressed in terms similar to those of Vladimir Dudintsev, author of Not by Bread
Alone. He pointed out how much things had changed at a meeting held in 1954:
earlier, when we discussed S. P. Babaevskii,5 ve years ago, every speech sounded like
the next and no one wanted to speak, everyone repeated themselves. Look now at their
dierent character.6 Old meeting spaces were transformed, losing their ocial aura
and becoming public ones.
Not surprisingly, writers began to emphasise the need for discussion within their
own society. As secretary of the prose section of the Moscow section of the Writers
Union, Evgeny Dolmatovskii expressed in August 1956:
In all aspects of our lives, we are now reconstructing our understanding of public opinion
(obshchestvennoe mnenie) as real public opinion, growing out of the gatherings of specialists
and masters and lovers of literature . . . The Writers Union and public organisations must
create public opinion through the means of discussion, etc.7
Susan Reid adds that the Soviet public was ready to be entrusted with the
responsibility that it felt it had been promised (Reid 2005, p. 716).
4
One interesting recent dialogue about this rethinking comes from Julianne Furst and Hiroaki
Kuromiya. They argue that dissent can only be understood within the discursive foundations of
Stalinism (see Furst 2002, pp. 353 375; 2003, pp. 789 802; Kuromiya 2003, pp. 631 638).
1334
KARL E. LOEWENSTEIN
The emergence of public opinion
This comment was greeted with thunderous applause. This quotation reveals clearly
that Khrushchev wanted the secret speech to be contained within the party. He knew
that public discussion might follow and raise questions to which there was no clear
answer.
Following Khrushchevs order, there were no direct references to the secret speech
in the national press, although Mikoyans public speech at the Congress had hints of
anti-Stalin sentiment. In any case, many people heard about it quite quickly after it
9
It was published in the New York Times in March, apparently passing from a Polish party member,
to Mossad then to the CIA. It was also reproduced inside the Soviet Union in limited numbers to be
distributed to party members throughout the country.
In addition, teachers asked, how should we carry out examinations in the tenth class if
there are many mistakes and imprecision in the textbooks? Pankratova recommended
suspending examinations until new textbooks could be printed, as examinations would
not be useful, perhaps even harmful under the current situation.
The questioning extended to the problem of party control over ideological questions
and the study of the past. As one questioner wrote, careerism is the disease of
repression. He was greatly troubled by the ease with which writers followed the party
line, adding, dont you think that the biggest danger is not the idealisation of Ivan the
Terrible, but the complete readiness of our historians to submit to any ideological
coercion and that that readiness remains? Hope existed that the secret speech and the
new directions in ideology might bring great freedom in historical pursuits, as one
asked, will it be possible for historians to make their own independent decisions about
debatable questions? Should they accept the propositions of the party press as
directives, marking the end of discussion? Other questions criticised the broad layers
10
There have been several interesting articles on the way that intellectuals from the Eastern Bloc
received the secret speech; see, in particular, Connelly (1997, pp. 329 360) and Tighe (1996, pp. 71
102).
11
Rossiiskii Gosudarstvennyi Arkhiv Noveishii Istorii (RGANI), f. 5, op. 16, d. 747, p. 95. The
citations in the next two pages are drawn from this document (pp. 95 126). This and other documents
have been published in the collection Doklad . . . (2002).
1336
KARL E. LOEWENSTEIN
of bureaucracy that existed in the Soviet Union, even casting doubt on the socialist
basis of society and government. If we are speaking about a principled overturn of
Stalinist policies, what real measures are being taken against the bureaucracy that
Stalin represented? As another wrote,
at the twentieth Party Congress, many words were spoken about the rebuilding of society, but
nothing has happened in Leningradcan we speak about it if the substantial part of the
leading workers, who for many years worked only for themselves, not the people, remain in
their posts?
Finally, some questioners viewed Khrushchevs claims that the other members of
the Presidium were powerless with great scepticism. They also suggested that it was
dicult for anyone in Soviet society to accept this explanation.
Where were the members of the Presidium? It is very dicult for us propagandists to explain
this question to the Soviet people. Did the members of the Presidium know about it? And
how will we better answer this question? Will party organs clarify it?
At all the meetings, there was a desire to hear directly from members of the Presidium
and requests for another letter that would give necessary clarication in relation to
questions about the cult of personality. For Pankratova, the solution to the problem
was to have the party leadership issue decisive answers, so that there would be no more
need for discussion or debate. Even party ocials realised that a conict was growing
between those who wanted to discuss the secret speech and the party ocials who
desired a controlled understanding of it. These ocial spaces became forums for the
formation of public opinion because of Khrushchevs incomplete comments about the
history of the Soviet Union.
Throughout the spring and summer, public discussions became more frequent and
more openly critical of Khrushchevs limited approach. In a growing number of
places, people gathered to discuss the future of the Soviet Union. There are many
Creating a communist future was to be done in a new era where honest work was
nally possible, fullling the true demands of the readers. The meeting was also
overwhelmed with comments about the beginning of a time without reviews, without
editors, even without forced rewriting.
Ocials at the Cultural Section of the Central Committee complained continuously
that meetings held throughout the country refused to follow party instructions.14
These ocials were aware that there was a growing assertion of independent opinion,
against which the party needed to take more decisive action. The Central Committee
on 21 August issued a decree entitled, On the results of the school year in the system
of party enlightenment and goals for the party organisation in the next school year
which criticised the press. According to the Moscow party report on the decree:
The Central Committee considers it incorrect that in the last year the central, republican and
regional newspapers, theoretical and political journals of the Central Committee of the
parties of the Soviet Republics almost stopped publishing articles and consultations to help
political self-education and answers to the questions of readers on theoretical questions and
problems.15
Party leaders looked at public opinion and saw enemies who were using the criticism
of the cult of personality of Stalin in order to attack Marxism Leninism and to turn
the workers against communism. Bazovskii, the secretary of the Frunze region of
Moscow, attacked the intelligentsia for the attempt to discredit party and state
organs. However, his solution was to work harder at enlightening them with more
12
Tsentralnyi Gosudarstvennyi Arkhi Izucheniia Politicheskikh Dvizhenii (TsGAIPD), f. 2960,
op. 6, d. 13, l. 128.
13
TsGAIPD, f. 2960, op. 6, d. 13, ll. 84 85.
14
RGANI, f. 5, op. 36, delo 3, l. 11.
15
Rossiiskii Gosudarstvennyi Arkhiv Sotsialnoi i Politicheskoi Istorii (RGASPI), f. 556, op. 1, d. 598,
p. 181.
1338
KARL E. LOEWENSTEIN
propaganda.16 This line of reasoning by party ocials helps us see the transition that was
occurring during 1956. The party felt as though public opinion needed to be shaped as it
had been in the Stalin era, but was not sure how it would be able to accomplish it. These
ocials fell back on a belief that proper articles in the press would change the public
perception of the secret speech. However, articles in the papers were still few and often
indistinct. This allowed the discussions to continue and build, climaxing in October.
An October meeting of the prose section of the Moscow section of the Writers
Union became the focal point for the party leaderships anger at the challenging
attitudes that were now emerging in public discussion. The gathering was held to
discuss V. Dudintsevs novel Ne khlebom edinym (Not By Bread Alone). The novel,
published in several issues of Novyi mir in the early autumn, is the story of an inventor
of a pipe-casting machine who had to struggle against all types of bureaucrats to get
his invention put into use. His main nemesis is a self-interested, petty bureaucrat
named Drozdov. The inventor, named Martian Lopatkin, works for many years and is
wrongly imprisoned, but ghts on until his machine is produced. His victory is
incomplete, however, as he is denied control over the production of the machine for
which he fought for so long.17 The novel is clearly a struggle of an individual against
the corrupt, arrogant world of Soviet bureaucracy. Strangely the novel was not
reviewed in the Soviet press for many months after its publication.
At the Central House of Art in Moscow, an overow crowd, including over 350
writers, gathered to hear expressions of satisfaction with Dudintsevs novel and use it
as a way to call for a new direction for the Soviet future. The speakers were almost
unanimous in their praise for the new novel. Konstanin Simonov, editor-in-chief of the
journal that had printed it, introduced the discussion by emphasising that the work
was helping to build a communist future:
. . . we printed the novel with great sympathy for it, with great interest, with feeling for this
book, the rst novel by a comparatively young author, written by a good person, who loves
the Soviet order, strongly loves Soviet power and is prepared to ght with people who get in
the way of our movement forward.18
He continued, saying that he knew that the work had both positive and negative sides
and hoped that even the large crowd will not stop them from having a serious,
professional discussion about the work.
The meeting, however, was far from the balanced discussion for which Simonov
called. Feeding o the enthusiasm of the crowd, speakers became increasingly strident
in their praise for Dudintsev and his description of Soviet society. Lev Slavin explained
the popularity in a way that did not address any of Simonovs criteria.19 Instead, he
16
Public opinion was demanding technical progress while the bureaucracy was standing
in the way. Atarov and Slavin both asserted that the party leadership had been too
badly distorted by its bureaucratisation. Only by letting the public become involved
could the Soviet Union move again in the correct direction.
The meetings most dramatic moment came with Konstantin Paustovskiis
denunciation.21 His inammatory words were met with continual outbursts of
applause and shouts of agreement. He began by calling the bureaucracy a new,
counter-revolutionary group within Soviet society:
It seems that in our country without impunity there exists and even, in some ways, ourishes
a completely new stratum, a new caste of philistinism. There is a new tribe of plunderers and
owners, not having anything in common with the revolution, with our society, nor with
Socialism.22
This was greeted by voices from the audience yelling correct! Dudintsev was to be
praised most of all for revealing the perdy of the bureaucrats and for turning this
phenomenon into a public discussion:
And the highest service of Dudintsev is that he struck to the very core of the matter. He writes
about the most terrible occurrences in our society and under no circumstances should we
close our eyes, if we do not want the Drozdovites to control the country.
Bureaucrats were the true obstacle to progress toward communism and had to be
challenged through openness and discussion. The struggle for communism was not
against capitalists or the imperialists, but against their own Soviet bureaucracy, But I
20
Nikolai Atarov (1907 1978) would be removed from the editorship of the journal Moskva in 1957
for deviating too far from the party line.
21
Konstantin Paustovskii (1892 1968) started writing in the 1920s, and became an outspoken
proponent of sincerity and the independence of writers. In 1957, he was attacked by the party
leadership for this speech and for his editing a liberal collection of works entitled Literaturnaya Moskva
(Literary Moscow).
22
Excerpts of this speech appeared in Samizdat almost immediately afterwards. An abridged version
was translated and published in English in McLean and Vickery (1961).
1340
KARL E. LOEWENSTEIN
think that the people, who created all the worth in our lives, in the end will sweep away
the Drozdovites very quickly.
Paustovskiis speech demonstrates the way that Khrushchevs speech opened the
oodgates of public opinion. He and many other speakers suggested that the Soviet
Union was no longer building communism. Worse than that, party bureaucracy was
the reason for that stagnation. Remaining within seemingly acceptable bounds by
calling for a communist future, he wanted to let public opinion have more power over
the party and its decisions. Although bureaucracy was often criticised, even under
Stalin, Paustovskii made a broader attack. Just as Dudintsev had described, the
bureaucracy had developed into its own class that destroyed anyone who might
disagree with it. For Paustovskii, it was composed of simple-minded, careerists who
were perfectly willing to kill to have their vision of the future approved. Paustovskii
was criticised for exaggeration by one of the other speakers, prominent novelist
Valentin Ovechkin, and quickly responded,
I, as all of us, know that only the twentieth Party Congress gave us the possibility to destroy
the Drozdovites. It is very strange that comrade Ovechkin should take my words about
Drozdov for words about the leadership . . . They had no relationship to the leadership.
This meeting represented the deep problems of the secret speech. Khrushchev had
tried to limit such outpourings by keeping the speech private. However, speakers here
challenged the partys claim to be correctly moving the Soviet Union towards
communism. They openly questioned the ability of the party to make decisions that
beneted the state and the people. At a large public gathering, writers spoke openly
about the need to replace bureaucratic decision making with public opinion. At the
same time as this meeting was taking place, the Hungarians were in a moment of acute
crisis.23 Within two weeks, the new Hungarian government would declare its desire to
abandon Soviet socialism and leave the Warsaw pact, causing violent Soviet military
intervention. The reports sent from Hungary clearly blamed writers and other
intellectuals for planting the seeds that led to the need for such brutality.24 The quick
change from discussions about reform to outright counter-revolution, suggested to
the party leaders that any relaxation of control might lead to the collapse of the
regime.
Placed in the context of the troubles in Eastern Europe, the October meeting became
an incredibly threatening moment. This was surely an unscripted, unexpected response
to both the twentieth Party Congress and Dudintsevs novel. It displayed all
the characteristics of dynamic, independent public opinion. Those who spoke did not
see themselves as challenging the regime in the way that they would be accused of. As
Lev Kopelev, later a famous dissident and exile, commented:
They [the Stalinists] frightened Khrushchev and the Politburo, calling the Moscow writers a
Pet}
o circle [a group of writers blamed for inspiring the uprising in Hungary]; as a witness
to this they used the discussion of Dudintsevs novel and Paustovskiis speech, the notes
23
There is much current work that discusses these events in the lights of the archives; see for example,
Kramer (1998, pp. 163 214) and Granville (2001, pp. 1051 1076).
24
See, for example, Literaturnaya gazeta on 22 November and 1 December 1956.
Obshchestvennykh
Dvizhenii
Gorod.
Moskvy
1342
KARL E. LOEWENSTEIN
into question the correctness of its line . . . it must be stated directly that party organisations in
such situations must not forget that against anti-Soviet, hostile elements, the party must
always strongly and directly lead an irreconcilable and most decisive struggle.26
The authors asserted that criticism beyond what was allowed by the party was not
acceptable and was anti-Soviet. They clearly explained that only the party leadership
could decide what the party position on any issue was going to be. Questioning party
decisions became tantamount to counter-revolutionary activity. The committee went
so far as to group all the critics together as prisoners and Trotskiites, recalling the
worst of the Stalinist charges that would have led to execution in the 1930s:
At the same time, there are such people among those released, who maliciously create feelings
against Soviet power, especially from a number of former Trotskiites, pure opportunists and
bourgeois nationalists. They gather together anti-Soviet elements and politically unstable
people; they try to renew their hostile, anti-Soviet activity.27
Next, they found that writers were the major cause of the challenge to party
leadership. Their calls for change and freedom were widely acclaimed by readers.
The open challenges to Khrushchev in public were spilling over into too many
organisations:
Turn your attention to the facts of the unhealthy mood of many parts of . . . our
organisations, technical schools and scientic institutions as well as among literary and
artistic workers. Attempts have been made to create doubt in the government line on the
development of Soviet literature. They have been trying to replace the principle of Socialist
Realism with the position of non-ideological art, and have begun to promote freeing
literature and art from party leadership, to defend freedom of art, as understood in a
bourgeois-anarchistic, individualistic spirit.28
Discussion was dened as non-socialist, and was seen as representing the inuence of
hostile, bourgeois ideology. Critical debate was not to challenge party leadership.
Questioning the leadership in any forum was categorised as illegitimate.
The letter of 19 December 1956 ended hope that ocial spaces might be
transformed, and public opinion respected. There was to be no more chance for
discussion among party members once this letter was distributed. It is key to our
understanding, however, that this letter was not meant to be published, and was an
attempt to control Soviet society without making a broad public pronouncement. The
members of the Central Committee demanded that party members change what they
wrote and said, without revealing it to the broader public in the Soviet Union. The
party leadership began to increase the use of the coercive powers of the state to enforce
this decision. The number of arrests for anti-Soviet behaviour skyrocketed and writers
who had spoken out in favour of discussion no longer appeared in newspapers and
journals. It took several months for this repression to silence public opinion,
demonstrating that the hope and excitement that had been generated was not easily
26
1344
KARL E. LOEWENSTEIN
December 1956 marked a change in the nature of public opinion. The 10 months
after the secret speech were a unique time in the history of the Soviet Union, when
intellectuals and their readers thought they could help dene the path of the Soviet
Union through open discussion of the options available. The letter in December
destroyed those hopes and forced those who wanted a dierent Soviet Union to fall
silent or take a much more radical path. The party members who heard the December
letter realised that there had been a severe change in attitude in the Presidium about
the course of Soviet ideology. As H. G. Obushenkov later noted:
For us it was obvious that December 19, 1956 was the end of the Thaw. It meant that all
hopes for renewal from above henceforth and for a long time were groundless, that the only
possibility in the battle for renewal was illegal activity. Others have attempted to spread the
understanding that the Thaw was the whole period until the change of leadership in 1964, but
the new epoch had already ended in 1956.30
Hope for a larger role for public opinion was dashed by the strong words of
the Central Committee. Nevertheless, although it would not be given real power,
authorities began to pay attention to the concept, and gave it weight in their political
decision-making. Trying to assess it and sway it became an important project for
the leadership. The ferment generated by the secret speech that appeared outside of
the Soviet press goes far towards illustrating why Mikhail Gorbachevs proposals
generated the explosion that they did. After surviving in an incredibly repressive
Stalinist state, the idea of public opinion re-emerged. When a small window of
opportunity appeared, intellectuals spoke of the need for more reliance on the
discussion, not coercion. Khrushchev could never acquiesce to the idea of sharing
power outside of the Presidium. Gorbachevs far-reaching reforms seem to echo these
earlier voices in their call for perestroika and glasnost and true participation.
University of WisconsinOshkosh
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30