Given the avowed internationalism of the communist movement, it’s surprising how favourably Soviet politicians viewed the idea of nationalism.
As I’ve previously written,
in the early 1920s the Soviet Communist Party had decided – after much internal
wrangling – to embark on a policy of promoting national identity amongst the
non-Russian peoples of the USSR. National cultures, including language, dress,
and literature, would now be promoted amongst non-Russian peoples, especially
inside their own designated territories within the USSR. Non-Russians would be
actively promoted as Communist cadres within the Soviet state.
This policy reversed the old
Tsarist policy of Russification, in which Russian cultural and ethnic
identity was imposed on non-Russian ethnicities in an imperialist attempt to
assimilate and control. It also reversed much Marxist thinking which had
anticipated that, with the construction of socialism, national identities would
wane and be superseded by class.
From the 1930s, however, important
aspects of these policies appeared to be shifting. Our school textbooks
commonly indicate a swing away from the promotion of minority, non-Russian
nationalisms, and back towards the kind of Greater Russian chauvinism seen
under the Tsars.
According to one textbook, “Stalinist
policy in the 1930s veered towards greater centralisation and less tolerance of
the ethnic groups [of the USSR] as he [Stalin] sought to create a single
‘Soviet identity’. Nationalism meant Russian nationalism and the leaders of the
different republics that formed the USSR were purged as ‘bourgeois
nationalists’ if they deviated from the path laid down in Moscow.”
Another, summarising Stalinist
nationalities policies after the Second World War, states even more baldly: “Stalin
was as keen on Russification as the Tsars.”
Was he?
I was struck, reading historian David
Hoffmann’s account from his excellent 2018 book, The Stalinist Era,
by the layers of complexity to this question. As Hoffmann put it (The
Stalinist Era, pages 66-67):
Officially
the [USSR] was not an empire but a federation of sovereign national republics,
the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics. Major nationalities had their own
territorial units – union republics in the case of the largest nationalities,
and autonomous republics or regions for some of the smaller national
minorities. In theory, nationalities had the right to self-rule and even
secession. In practice, non-Russian peoples had no real sovereignty or right to
secede, as power remained in the hands of rulers in Moscow. In this sense, the
Soviet Union was an empire. At the same time, the Soviet Union different
considerably from the tsarist empire as well as from western European colonial
empires. Soviet officials did not try to Russify non-Russian subjects. And they
did not seek to subjugate the peoples they ruled. On the contrary, the Soviet
government actually fostered the development of non-Russian languages and
cultures and sought to integrate all nationalities into the Soviet polity.
The evidence does indeed indicate a
shift in nationalities policy under Stalin, including a greater emphasis on
Russian national pride and some extremely unpleasant chauvinistic trends. But
it also contains a great many complexities which hinder any effort to identify
Stalin straightforwardly with a return of old Tsarist policies of
Russification.
This post will consider several
aspects of Soviet nationalities policy from the late-1920s to Stalin’s death in
1953, in order to highlight some of these complexities, in particular: politics
and ‘indigenisation’; language and national cultures; Russian cultural
attitudes; and the case of diaspora nationalities.
Politics and ‘Indigenisation’
The USSR practiced a policy of what
is often rather clumsily translated into English as “indigenisation” or
“nativisation” (korenizatsiia: denoting setting down of roots amongst
non-Russian peoples, drawn from the Russian for “root”, koren). Under
this policy, non-Russians were promoted as local Communist leaders and
officials amongst their own peoples and territories.
This policy was possible in large
part because the USSR was a federation, divided into different national
territories, including – by 1936 – eleven fully-fledged “Union Republics”.
These officially had considerable autonomy over their internal politics
including the right to secede from the USSR altogether.
In principle, this policy was to
turn the USSR into, as the Lithuanian Communist Iosif Vareikis
formulated it, a large communal apartment in which “national state
units, various republics and autonomous provinces” represented “various rooms”
(quoted by Slezkine, 1994, p. 415). It was a utopian but energetic policy which
went as far as to designate and delineate national territories for some groups,
most notably Soviet Jews, who as yet had no territorial homeland on Soviet
territory (the Soviet experiment to create a Jewish homeland, called Birobidzhan,
was something I discussed in an earlier post).
![]() |
1933 Soviet postage stamp, promoting the Jewish Autonomous Region, Birobidzhan. Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons. |
In practice, there were severe
limits to indigenisation. While non-Russian political elites were promoted,
national republics and territories were obliged to follow political policy set
down centrally by the Communist Party in Moscow, in accord with the
constructively ambiguous phrase “national in form, socialist in content”.
There was, of course, no question of any Union Republics ever leaving the USSR.
Stalin and other Soviet leaders
became increasingly concerned in the 1930s by the possibility of growing “bourgeois
nationalism”, a category that broadly encompassed ideas which might have
been “national in form” but privileged national identity over the wider needs
of the USSR and which were therefore not “socialist in content”. In a number of
cases, the spectre of “bourgeois nationalism” was plainly used to put local
politicians back in their place and ensure the implementation of central
policies. In 1932, when Ukrainian Communists objected to high grain quotas
which were contributing to devastating famine in the country, Stalin absurdly denounced
them as anti-Communist agents of the Polish nationalist leader Pilsudski. By
the end of the 1930s, national territories and their leaderships would – along
with the rest of Soviet politics – undergo thorough and devastating purging,
destroying much of their original indigenous leadership.
Language and National Cultures
Whereas the old Russifying policy
of the Tsars had actively suppressed the cultures of non-Russian peoples, including
their languages, Soviet policy turned this on its head. A central component of
Soviet nation building was promoting the use of non-Russian languages, along
with ethnically distinct culture, from literature and dress to music and
theatre.
Language policy is particularly
instructive, since having a distinct language was considered essential to the
construction of a national consciousness. Beginning in the 1920s, the USSR endorsed
the use of non-Russian languages in local newspapers and cultural works, and
even went so far as to codify some languages which previously had no written
script. Yet this policy also had its own ambiguities and limitations.
In line with Soviet anti-religious
campaigns, religious aspects of non-Russian national culture and language were
repressed. This, it should be noted, was in many ways the same for Russians as
non-Russians, since Orthodox Christianity, the state religion of Tsarist Russia
to which some 70% of subjects pre-1917 belonged, was also fiercely repressed by
the Communists. However, it had peculiarities for some non-Russian ethnic
groups. For example, Jews were discouraged from using Hebrew, the religious
language of the Torah, and instead instructed to adopt Yiddish, the Jewish
vernacular language. Similarly, amongst Soviet Muslims, the use of Arabic
script, associated with the Quran, was discouraged for writing in local
languages in favour of the Latin alphabet, a move dubbed “Latinisation”.
Anti-religious campaigns delineated
acceptable Soviet nationalisms from “bourgeois” nationalism, yet they could
also interfere with the process of “indigenisation” by provoking local
non-Russian Communists to oppose Soviet cultural policies. In Central Asia, from
1927 onwards a campaign called the Hujum attacked Islamic traditions,
including that of veiling women, holding public ceremonies in which women tore
off and burned their veils. The policy produced a dramatic and violent backlash
from the local population – directed especially against women who unveiled –
with even many Communists opposing the unveiling of their female family
members.
![]() |
Veil burning in Andijan (Uzbekistan), on International Women's Day 1927. Credit: Great Soviet Encyclopedia (public domain). |
The promotion of non-Russian
culture and especially language became increasingly diluted as the 1930s wore
on, as Russian culture was increasingly placed on a higher footing than
non-Russian. In February 1936, an editorial in the Communist Party newspaper Pravda
declared Russian culture to be “first among equals”, legitimising its growing
dominance over some aspects of Soviet culture more widely.
In language, Russian culture being
placed “first among equals” signified a move towards actively promoting Russian
language (although not, it should be noted, the attempt to repress or destroy
non-Russian languages which had been typical of late-Tsarist Russification
under Alexander III and Nicholas II). In 1937, the teaching of Russian language
was made compulsory in schools across the USSR. Meanwhile, the move towards
“Latinising” the scripts of non-Russian languages stalled and were in many
cases thrown into reverse, as the Latin alphabet was replaced by the Russian
Cyrillic. By 1939, thirty-five languages had shifted to Cyrillic script.
Russian Cultural Attitudes
In many ways, in fact, this
apparent shift in state policy was built on a continuity in political attitudes.
A degree of haughty cultural condescension towards non-Russian and non-European
peoples had always lurked behind the attitudes of many Soviet leaders, whose
own Russian (or at least European urban) upbringing had instilled in them a sense
of superiority over non-Russian, and especially Asian, cultures.
As the historian Sheila
Fitzpatrick puts it, this attitude was in many ways akin to that of imperialist
European great powers by the early 20th century, which had aimed to
“civilise” their subject peoples by inculcating in them an appreciation of
their own, supposedly superior, culture. In this, Fitzpatrick links Soviet
cultural and ethnic policies to questions of gender and urban culture (Everyday
Stalinism, page 10):
While
backwardness was a problem for the Soviet Union as a whole, some people were
obviously more backward than others. The Soviet Union was a multiethnic state,
but the “friendship of peoples” that linked its different ethnic groups was
often represented in terms of an elder brother, Soviet Russia, leading and
teaching younger siblings. The Muslim peoples of Soviet Central Asia and the
reindeer-herding “small peoples” of the north, regarded as the most backward in
the Union, were the archetypal beneficiaries of the Soviet civilizing mission,
which tapped veins of idealism that were Russian as well as Communist. But
ethnicity was not the only determinant of backwardness. Peasants were backward
compared to town-dwellers. Women were backward, generally speaking, compared to
men. The Soviet civilizing mission was raising the cultural level of all these
backward groups.
The principle that it was Russians as
“leading and teaching” the other peoples of the USSR can be seen in Soviet
propaganda posters, which frequently portrayed European figures striding ahead
of, or instructing, Asian and sometimes African compatriots into a brave new
future.
Viewed from this perspective, the principle of extending written language scripts and formal aspects of “national” culture to peoples may well appear less generous, and more sinister, representing a Soviet mission of cultural imperialism rather than promotion of ethnic minority interests. Indeed, there were cases of artificial “national” cultures were imposed from without. In Uzbekistan, for instance, tribes with no sense of “national” belonging were subsumed within the larger Uzbek nationality, drawing them into a new cultural world which had little or no prior meaning to them.
Diaspora Nationalities
Nonetheless, in many ways, Soviet
policies towards non-Russians was markedly similar to policies towards
Soviet Russians, representing an effort to equalise the situation of both.
For both Russians and non-Russians,
a national language was promoted as a first language of instruction for local
education and cultural activities. For both Russians and non-Russians,
assertive and violent campaigns attempted to tear religion out of national
culture and promote secular traditions in its place. For both Russians and
non-Russians, legal provisions were put in place to ensure varying degrees of
autonomy within the Soviet federation (however little this may have been
respected in practice). In this regard, Stalinist nationalities policy did not
overtly seek to subjugate ethnic minorities.
There was, however, one very clear exception
to this rule under Stalin. And that was in the case of non-Russian diaspora
nationalities; in other words, non-Russian peoples who shared a nationality
with capitalist states outside the USSR.
Stalin’s paranoid mind led him to
suspect entire national groups living inside the USSR of disloyalty, especially
when they had a national state and territory outside the Soviet Union. Unable
to control or shape the national cultures of these groups, Stalin and the
Soviet leadership instead ruthlessly repressed them in the late 1930s, in a
series of “national operations”.
According to David Hoffmann, from
August 1937 to November 1938, a staggering 335,500 people from diaspora
nationalities were arrested by the Soviet secret police, of whom 247,200 were
executed. Groups targeted included Poles, Germans, Romanians, Latvians,
Lithuanians, Estonians, Finns, Greeks, Afghans, Iranians, Chinese, Bulgarians,
Macedonians, and Koreans. These were peoples who had long settled peacefully
and productively in Russia and the USSR; all had the misfortune of having a
supposed other country to which they might owe loyalty outside the USSR.
The power of this perverse logic
would be perhaps most dramatically revealed after World War Two, when official
attitudes towards Soviet Jews suddenly shifted and vicious antisemitic
campaigns began. Following the establishment of the State of Israel in 1948,
and the dramatic scenes of Moscow’s Jews pouring onto the streets to greet newly
arrived Israeli ambassador, Golda Meir, in the city, the loyalty of Jews
towards the USSR came under suspicion. Now with a nation state of their own
outside Soviet borders, and one allied to Cold War enemy the USA to boot, Jews
were suspected en masse of preposterous crimes and Jewish figures
targeted, most notoriously in the case of the fabricated “Doctors’ Plot” in
which Jewish doctors in the Kremlin were baselessly alleged to have plotted to
murder Soviet leaders.
![]() |
Golda Meir in Moscow, 1948. Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons. |
The Doctors’ Plot and
late-Stalinist antisemitism was a logical and particularly cruel outcome of pre-World
War Two Stalinist policies. It was not obviously, however, an act of
Russification akin to the actions of the last two Tsars. Repression of non-Soviet
non-Russian nationalities had its own internal dynamics and driving forces.
Conclusions: Qualifying Stalin's Nationalism (but not the
man himself)
In the end, despite a number of
important shifts in Soviet nationalities policies under Stalin, the evidence is
too complicated to clearly point towards the Soviet dictator as an avid
Russifier, and certainly too ambiguous to suppose he was attempting to
resurrect the ethnic policies of the Tsars.
Given this is the case, I’d suggest
we carefully qualify the statements we present students with when teaching
Stalinist nationalities policies, illustrating both their (supposedly)
progressive, liberatory intentions and their frequently repressive realities.
Doing so should not be seen as in some way rehabilitating Stalin; it is
certainly not the purpose of this blog post to present him as a misunderstood liberator
of nations. Not to be a straightforward Russifier does not in any way signify
not being a tyrant.
Nevertheless, teaching the
ambiguities and complexities of Stalinist nationalities policies requires us to
think in terms of qualifications. Therefore:
- all major Soviet nationalities and peoples were legally equal and autonomous, although this autonomy and equality had severe limits;
- Russians had lost their ethnically superior status, although they came to be seen as “first among equals” in a “brotherhood of peoples” which afforded them and their culture inherent advantages;
- non-Russian national cultures were encouraged and celebrated, although they had to be secular, depriving peoples of important religious traditions;
- languages were acknowledged building blocks of national identity and autonomy, although the Russian language under Stalin increasingly became a universal cultural cornerstone for all Soviet peoples;
- the Soviet Union was conceived as a genuine “brotherhood of peoples”, although national groups with supposed homelands outside its borders forfeited the rights and protections afforded to other peoples.
Selected Further Reading
Sheila Fitzpatrick, Everyday
Stalinism: Ordinary Life in Extraordinary Times, Oxford University Press
(1999)
David L. Hoffmann, The Stalinist
Era, Cambridge University Press (2018)
Terry Martin, The Affirmative
Action Empire: Nations and Nationalism in the Soviet Union, 1923-1939,
Cornell University Press (2001)
Douglas T. Northrup, Veiled
Empire: Gender and Power in Stalinist Central Asia, Cornell University
Press (2004)
Brigid O’Keefe, The Multiethnic
Soviet Union and its Demise, Bloomsbury Academic (2022)
Yuri Slezkine, “The USSR as a
Communal Apartment, or How a Socialist State Promoted Ethnic Particularism”, Slavic
Review, 53 (1994)
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