One of the twentieth century’s most peculiar aspects is the fact that, throughout the course of its duration, the pace of social, cultural and scientific progress has attained a clearly defined exponential momentum. Two factors contributed to it – the fact that throughout the course of twentieth century’s first half, the religion of Christianity had ceased affecting the process of designing socio-political policies in Western countries and the fact that the same historical period saw the successful implementation of a number of state-sponsored literacy campaigns, throughout the world. The most notable of these literacy campaigns was the one that had taken place in Soviet Russia/Soviet Union through 1919-1939 – the so-called Likbez (a short from Likvidatsiya Bezgramotnosti, which literally means ‘liquidation of illiteracy’) campaign. Because of this campaign, the rate of literacy among Soviet citizens was increased rather dramatically, which by early thirties created objective preconditions for the Soviet leaders to embark upon country’s industrialization. In this paper, I will aim to explore the ‘ecology’ of Likbez, to provide readers with the insight on what accounted for the qualitative essence of this literacy campaign’s consequential phases, and to reveal how Likbez’s implementation contributed to the fact that by late thirties, Soviet Union had attained the status of the one of world’s most educationally advanced countries.
Nowadays, it became a commonplace practice among patriotically minded Russians to refer to the Russian Empire, before the outbreak of WW1, as such that represented a some sort of an ‘ideal state’, where citizens never ceased enjoying an unprecedented prosperity, along with a number of different civil liberties. Such point of view, however, cannot be referred to as being discursively legitimate. The reason for this is quite apparent – even though that, throughout the course of twentieth century’s first decade, Russia was growing progressively ‘westernized’, it nevertheless continued to be perceived as an intellectually, culturally and technologically backward country, with the system of its political governing remaining essentially feudalistic (Snyder, 1994). One of the reasons for that was the fact that, unlike what it was the case with the rest of world’s major geopolitical powers, which by the end of 19th century became constitutionally secularized, up until the outbreak of October Revolution in 1917; Russian Orthodox Church continued to play a major societal role in the country. This role, however, was strictly concerned with creating and maintaining obstacles of the way of progress.
Just as it is being the case with today’s Islamic fundamentalists, before 1917, Russian Orthodox clergymen never ceased pointing out to the very concept of a secularized education as ‘sinful’, while praising the feudalistic stratification of Russian society in terms of a ‘God’s given order’. As it was pointed out by Freeze (1989), “The (Russian Orthodox) clergy had little in common with either squires or serfs neither social origin nor education nor economic interest. Without familial or intellectual ties to the secular order, clergy naturally remained within their ecclesiastical cocoon” (p. 372). It is needless to mention, of course, that this naturally resulted in keeping the rate of literacy in Russia artificially lowered. After all, even throughout the course of 20th century’s first decade, there were many instances of Church’s ‘holy fathers’ physically attacking Russia’s most prominent intellectuals, on the account of their atheistic ‘sinfulness’, for example. What also contributed to the fact that, throughout the course of this specific historical period, Imperial Russia used be commonly referred as an essentially illiterate country, was the Russian society’s castlike structure. For example, up until 1905, the representatives of Russian peasantry were forbidden from even trying to enroll into Russia’s few colleges and universities.
Therefore, it does not come as a particular surprise that, according to 1897 census, only 21% of Russian Empire’s citizens could read and write. The literacy rate in Siberia accounted to only 16% and in Russia’s regions, predominantly populated by Muslims, the literacy rate was estimated to account to only 5%. Russia’s entering into the WW1 caused the literacy rate to drop even lower, because for duration of three years (1914-1917), Russia’s Western regions, which traditionally featured the highest literacy rates, throughout the Empire, were turned into the battleground (Targowski, 2011).
Given the fact that, after having taken over a political power in Russia in 1917, Communists declared that they will actively strive to turn this country into a modern, fully industrialized state, a staggering illiteracy of the majority of Russians presented them with a particularly acute challenge, in this respect. Something needed to be done quickly, so that the bulk of Russia’s illiterate population would be taught how to read and write. On December 26, 1919, the newly established Council of People’s Commissars (Sovnarkom) announced a decree “About illiteracy’s liquidation in RSFSR (Russian Soviet Federative Socialist Republic)”. According to this decree, all Russians from the age of 8 to 50 were obliged to acquire basic reading and writing skills. People’s Commissariat for Education, headed by Anatoly Lunacharsky, was given the power to fill the ranks of ‘illiteracy liquidators’ on the basis of Labor Service Law, introduced in 1918.
In other words, just about any more or less literate individual could be forcibly required to spend 2-3 years, teaching the representatives of Russia’s illiterate population. One of this decree’s foremost provisions was the establishment of the so-called litpunkts (literally – the points of literacy) in every Russian (and consequently Soviet) town or village, which had more than 15 illiterate residents. In these litpunkts, illiterate individuals were required to study basic writing, reading and counting for duration of 3-4 months (Petrova, 2007). As the Likbez campaign was gaining a momentum, it was becoming ever more specified, in regards to its actual aims and in regards to the categories of citizens, believed to be able to benefit the most from acquiring basic literacy. In 1922, the All-Soviet Convention on liquidation of illiteracy decreed that the Likbez’s primary target were industrial workers from the age of 18 to 30.
A very important aspect of Likbez was the visual propaganda of literacy, in form of different posters, which were supposed to encourage onlookers to proceed with increasing the level of their educational attainment. All of these posters were peculiar in a respect that, along with promoting literacy as thing-in-itself, they were also promoting Communist ideology:
The effectiveness of visual propaganda of literacy, however, was hampered by the fact that, along with LIkbez, there were a number of other ongoing visually popularized Communist campaigns, which made it more difficult for the illiterate people to focus their attention on gaining basic literacy, as such that was supposed to constitute their foremost existential agenda.
In 1923, Sovnarkom decreed the establishment of the so-called Obschestvo Doloi Bezgramotnost (Off with the Illiteracy Society). Society’s primary objective was to advance the cause of literacy, throughout the Soviet Russia and the Union of Soviet Republics (formally speaking, USSR was founded in 1924). By the end of 1923, Society’s membership amounted to 100.000. As of 1924, the Society was in charge of operating 11.000 litpunkts, were at least 500.000 people were acquiring basic literacy skills. By the year 1930, Society’s membership has increased to 3 million. Society’s activity also accounted for the publishing of a number of literacy-promoting journals, such as Kultpohod and Povysim gramotnost.
One of the most distinctive features of the Likbez campaign was the fact that, along with promoting literacy, its affiliates were applying a great effort into trying to enlighten people about the counter-productive essence of religion, as the illiteracy’s foremost agent. The year 1925 saw the establishment of the League of Militant Atheists, which was greatly contributing to the process of Soviet people being freed of religious prejudices (Thatcher, 2006). League’s activists used to hold public lectures, during the course of which they were encouraging listeners to adopt a materialistic worldview. This, of course, contributed rather substantially to the process of Russian people expanding their intellectual horizons.
Nevertheless, despite the fact, throughout the course of its early phases, the Likbez campaign has proven its utter effectiveness; there were quite a few dialectically predetermined drawbacks to it, which hampered the efficiency of literacy campaigners’ educational efforts. The foremost drawback, in this respect, was the fact that, after having attained basic literacy skills, formerly illiterate citizens were often experiencing a hard time, while trying to make a practical use of these skills. This was because, throughout the course of twenties, the process of Soviet economy’s modernization was only beginning to gain a momentum, which meant that at the time, there was not much of a demand for educated industrial workers. Another major drawback had to do with the fact that, while striving to eliminate illiteracy in the Soviet Union as soon as possible, those in charge of running the Likbez campaign, were often willing to exaggerate this campaign’s successfulness – hence, ensuring their advancement through the ranks of Communist Party’s hierarchy. For example, throughout the course of Likbez campaign, it became a commonplace practice among the affiliated educators, to qualify individuals that have completed literacy courses as ‘fully literate’, even if these individuals still lacked the proficiency in either writing or reading.
Ever since 1925, Likbez began to acquire the subtleties of a mass-movement, which thrived on the sheer extent of its participants’ enthusiasm. The validity of this statement can be well illustrated in regards to the so-called kultpohods (literally – cultural hikes), which were taking place throughout the course of twentieths’ second half, as a part of the Likbez campaign. A typical kultpohod would involve a few hundreds of Likbez activists, traveling from town to town, in order to popularize the very concept of literacy to the illiterate masses or workers and peasants. Eventually, kultpohods’ participants began to be referred to as kultarmeitsy (cultural army’s soldiers). By the year 1930, their number has reached staggering 1 million (Petrova, 2007).
At the same time, however, there can be few doubts as to the fact that, even though kultpohods appeared to be the extrapolation of Russian people’s will to break with the legacy of Russia’s educational backwardness, they have been orchestrated at the very top of Soviet political establishment. The reason for this is quite apparent – ever since 1928, kultpohods’ foremost objective has been shifted from promoting the concept of literacy, as thing-in-itself, to promoting the concept of a mandatory and highly specialized technical education. Apparently, even as early as during the course of late twenties, Stalin decided to thoroughly industrialize Soviet economy, so that this economy would be capable of manufacturing high-quality weapons on a mass scale, for the eventual ‘liberation’ of mankind from the ‘capitalist oppression’.
It is now being commonly overlooked, but up until the collapse of Soviet Union in 1991, Soviet Constitution openly stated that it was only the matter of time, before the rest of world’s countries would join Soviet Union, as its ‘republics’. The Soviet coat of arms never ceased featuring the communist symbol of hammer and sickle in the foreground of the whole planet Earth (Suvorov, 1990). This explains why, the latter stages of Likbez featured a number of clearly defined militaristic undertones to them. After all, such terms as kultpohod, kultarmy and kultarmeyitsy sublimate the very militaristic spirit of these stages.
This is why, as time went on, Soviet leaders were increasingly referring to the actual goals of the ongoing Likbez campaign as such that were strictly concerned with helping industrial workers to qualify as the manufactures of weapons. The soundness of this suggestion can be well illustrated in regards to the Likbez-related decrees, issued by All-Russian Central Executive Committee (VTsIK) throughout the course of late twentieths and early thirtieths, which referred to the Likbez’s foremost objective of eliminating illiteracy among Soviet citizens in terms of a ‘combat mission’. The fact that, from the very beginning Likbez was conceived as the tool of Soviet society’s eventual militarization became clear in late thirties, when Soviet government’s educational legislations did not only provide criminal punishments to those who were not utterly enthusiastic about becoming thoroughly educated individuals, but also prescribed Soviet citizens with mandatory professional careers. For example, on December 7, 1940, the Supreme Soviet of the Soviet Union has decreed a mandatory principle to the recruitment of students to the military pilot-schools. According to this decree, just about any high-school graduate could be forced to study how to become a military pilot – regardless of whether he or she did want to pursue this particular professional career or not (Uldricks, 1999).
Throughout the course of Likbez campaign, ‘illiteracy liquidators’ used to experience many challenges, while striving to promote literacy. One of these challenges was the fact that in many towns in villages there were no buildings, suitable for serving the function of kultpunkts. This is why, in early twenties, it represented a commonplace practice among educators, affiliated with the Likbez campaign, to run literacy courses at the abandoned factories, stables and churches. It is understood, of course, that this was significantly undermining the quality of education, provided to the illiterate masses. Moreover, Likbez’s enthusiasts often had to deal with an acute shortage of alphabet books, pencils and paper. This is why, throughout the course of Likbez, there many instances of literacy students having been forced to substitute paper with birch bark and pencils with coals. The fact that the majority of Likbez’s campaigners were ill equipped to proceed with pushing their educational agenda effectively, Communist functionaries used to explain by the legacy of Russian Civil War (1917-1923), which did not only result in undermining the Russia economy’s proper functioning, but also in deaths of at least 10 million people (Easter, 1996).
At the same time, however, it is important to understand that, throughout the course of early twenties, Bolsheviks thought of raising the rate of citizens’ literacy as such, that represented a second-order priority, on their part. As it was noted by Clark (1995), “On one side of the dilemma was the Bolshevik leadership’s belief that a more literate worker would ultimately be more productive… On the other side of the dilemma was the onset of the scissors crisis and the cost-accounting measures ushered in by NEP. The idea of labor time devoted to anything but labor was pushed to the background” (p. 1333). Apparently, just as it has always been the case with the implementation of government-sponsored socio-political initiatives in Socialist countries, the practical efficiency of Soviet Likbez campaign has been hampered by the fact that this campaign never ceased being ‘slogan-fueled’. While understanding perfectly well that the people’s sense of enthusiasm could only motivate them to indulge in a particular activity for so long, Soviet leaders had made a point in ensuring the continuation of the Likbez campaign by the mean of endowing individuals, in charge of conducting it on the local level, with ever increased administrative powers. That is, Likbez’s officials were often permitted to cease the property of those illiterate people, whom they were supposed to teach literacy, so that the educational process could be initiated, in the first place. In addition, they were given the power to subject illiterate individuals, who refused attending literacy courses, to criminal persecution.
Another major challenge, faced by Likbez’s campaigners, was the fact that the majority of illiterate peasants could not be principally motivated to strive to gain literacy (unless being threatened with arrest), because they did not think of the very concept of literacy as such that represented any practical value, whatsoever. It is important to understand that, at the time when Likbez was gaining a momentum, the realities of Russia’s rural living were essentially the same with what accounted for the realities of such a living, even as far back as thousands of years ago. After all, the successfulness of how Russian peasants attend their agricultural duties has traditionally been assessed in regards to the strength of their communal-mindedness, and in regards to the strength of their religious beliefs. Therefore, it does not come as a particular surprise that the majority of Russian peasants used to actively resist Likbez campaigners’ attempts to educate them.
In fact, one of the foremost motivational factors, behind the outbreak of the famous Tambov Peasant Rebellion (1920-1921), which almost resulted in the Bolshevik regime’s overthrowing, was Likbez emissaries’ excessive enthusiasm in trying to promote literacy among Tambovian peasants, “The idealistic aspect of the (Bolshevik) revolution was entirely foreign to the Tambov peasants, who reacted with mistrust and derision to speeches of ‘city slickers’, about world revolution and eradication of illiteracy “ (Singleton, 1966, p. 501). In this respect, the qualitative aspects of the Likbez literacy campaign’s implementation in Russia’s rural areas closely reminded the qualitative aspects of promoting literacy to peasants in just about any other world’s rural region.
The same can be said about what used to account for the specifics of promoting literacy in Russia’s Southeastern parts, populated by Muslims. Given the fact that, according to the provisions of Communist ideology, men and women are being absolutely equal, Likbez’s officials never ceased placing a particularly strong emphasis on educating the representatives of a ‘weak gender’. According to Edgar (2006), “(In Soviet Central Asia) Muslim women were persuaded to ‘liquidate their illiteracy’, speak at public meetings, and join the Communist Party. Schools for girls were expanded… Islamic and customary practices deemed detrimental to women, such as polygamy, bridewealth, and unilateral male divorce, were banned” (p. 257).
Tribal/religious leaders in the Soviet Republics of Azerbaijan, Uzbekistan and Turkmenistan, used to perceive this as an activity aimed to undermine the traditional ‘order of things’. After all, Quran clearly specifies women’s inferior status, which is why devout Muslim males considered providing women with an opportunity to attain literacy a particularly unforgivable ‘sin’. In its turn, this explains why Likbez’s activists were never thrilled about the prospect of being sent to these republics to promote literacy. Apparently, they were perfectly aware of the fact that, while there, they would be facing an acute risk to their very lives – just as if they were frontline soldiers. Nevertheless, given the fact that the Russian Bolsheviks of the time did not know anything about the concept of ‘political correctness’, it did not take them too long to overcome anti-educational resistance, on the part of Muslim tribal/leaders. Those who were creating obstacles on the way of social and cultural progress in Soviet Southeastern republics have been dealt with quickly and efficiently.
Another major problem, encountered by Soviet ‘liquidators of illiteracy’, was the fact that, as of 1922, the number of homeless/parentless children (bezprizorniki) in Soviet Union accounted for staggering 7 million. This was the one among many societal consequences of both: WW1 and Civil War. The majority of these children had not only lost both of their parents, but their relatives as well, which in turn doomed them to proceed with an essentially rootless mode of existence – most of them simply roamed the land, while trying to make living on stealing. On January 27, 1921, Sovnarkom founded the so-called ‘Children’s Commission of VTsIK’, which was put in charge of providing homeless children with living quarters and with teaching them basic literacy. What is especially notable about how Soviet leaders approached the task of to eliminating children’s homelessness, in general, and children’s illiteracy, in particular, is that they ceased the educational opportunity of turning these children into the most ardent supporters of a Communist cause. One of the most famous advocates of introducing even young children to the ideals of Communism was Russian pedagogue Anton Makarenko.
Makarenko used to promote an idea that, in order for the process of homeless children acquiring basic literacy skills to prove truly effective, educators would have to succeed in endowing these children with the spirit of collectivism. According to Tudge (1991), “Makarenko… believed that education was not a passive medium within which children could develop ‘as nature intended’ but was a means to an end—a Communist end. His methods were based on the primacy of collective thought and action” (p. 125). Lenin and Stalin thoroughly supported Makarenko’s conceptualization of what should be considered the ideologically appropriate methodology for dealing with children’s illiteracy. This partially explains why, up until the collapse of Soviet Union in 1991, the so-called ‘Makarenko’s method’ continued to represent a cornerstone of Soviet early-childhood educational paradigm. Nevertheless, despite the fact that, while helping homeless children to part away with their illiteracy Likbez’s activists never ceased striving to win children’s loyalty to Communist ideas, as their long-term objective, they succeeded rather spectacularly in their children-aimed educational undertaking. As of 1928, the number of Soviet bezprizorniki was reduced to 300.000. In 1935, Stalin officially proclaimed that there were no more homeless children left in the country.
Given the fact that, as it was mentioned earlier, Soviet government simply did not have the means to provide monetary incentives to people, particularly committed to the Communist Party’s agenda of eradicating illiteracy nation-wide, and also the fact that providing such incentives to the Likbez’s enthusiasts would contradict the very theoretical premise of a Communist paradigm, Soviet leaders worked out a unique approach towards motivating citizens to seek literacy. There were two integral elements to such an approach: a) motivating people by the mean of providing them with a quick opportunity to attain social prominence, b) motivating people by the mean of exposing them to the prospect of public humiliation, in case they continue to resist governmentally sponsored educational initiatives.
For example, those individuals who proved the sheer strength of their commitment to the Likbez’s cause, regardless of whether they happened to be ‘teachers’ or ‘students’, were given the chance to travel to the one of Soviet large provincial centers (or even Moscow), to study in so-called Party Schools. After having graduated from these schools, formerly illiterate peasants and workers would be elevated to the position of Party’s functionaries, which in turn would provide their chosen professional careers with a powerful boost. For example, in late thirties, the bulk of Stalin’s closest affiliates accounted for individuals who, despite having been born as lowly peasants, nevertheless managed to become thoroughly educated and consequently – to rise to the position of Soviet Union’s top governmental officials: Malyshev, Zhdanov, Khruschev, Beria, Malenkov, etc. During the course of early twentieths, all of these individuals were able to take advantage of being required to attend Likbez courses (Davies, 2002).
The second type of incentive, in this respect, was usually concerned with the public exposure of literacy’s resisters as ‘social parasites’, which was done by the mean of hanging these individuals’ photos on the so-called ‘boards of shame’, which used to be located at the centre of just about every town and village. It also became a customary practice to ‘reward’ Party’s functionaries, who failed to ensure that the territories, under their supervision, were seeing a dramatic improvement to the overall rate of people’s literacy, with the so-called ‘order of turtle’. This order was supposed symbolize the actual pace of progress, a particular Communist official was making, while establishing objective preconditions for the rate of people’s literacy to continually increase. After having received the ‘order of turtle’, Party’s officials knew that it was only the matter of time, before they would be charged with ‘sabotage’ and sentenced to 25 years in GULAG.
As time went on, it was becoming increasingly clear to the Party’s officials that, in order for the Likbez literacy campaign to maintain its momentum, ‘illiteracy liquidators’ would have to be provided with an additional training. As a result, through the years 1925-1929, Soviet literacy campaign was transformed from being solely concerned with the ‘liquidation of literacy’, to be concerned with helping illiterate and semi-illiterate people to acquire basic skills in math, accounting and Earth sciences. Throughout the course of these years, the most successful Likbez’s activitists were provided with an opportunity to increase the level of their educational attainment as well, by the mean of enrolling into the so-called ‘courses for increasing the extent of educators’ professional qualification’.
Party’s regional officials were given a directive to choose candidates for these courses among literate workers, who have proven their commitment to the Communist cause. According to this directive, a particularly strong emphasis had to be placed on making sure that women would account for at least 50% of ‘illiteracy liquidators’, qualified for the enrollment into these courses. It goes without saying, of course, that while increasing the level of their professional adequacy, chosen ‘illiteracy liquidators’ had all of their expenses taken care of by the state. The methodological approach, utilized within the context of selected Likbez’s activists being provided with an additional training, consisted of: a) systematic observation of trainees’ educational progress, b) teaching trainees the skills of teamwork, c) subjecting trainees to a number of different quiz-tests, d) exposing trainees to the Communist indoctrination.
Despite the fact that, as it was mentioned earlier, the practical implementation of Likbez was hampered by a number of different material shortages, and also the fact that Likbez activists’ popularization of literacy has initially faced a fierce resistance, on the part of Russian counter-revolutionaries and the members of Church’s clergy, the Likbez literacy campaign was nevertheless able to prove itself utterly effective. Through the years 1920-1926, the rate of literacy among Soviet citizens was increased by 12.5%. By the end of 1926, at least 10 million of formerly illiterate people in Russia have been taught how to read and write, which increased the overall rate of literacy among Soviet citizens to 56.6% (Fitzpatrick, 1994). Nevertheless, even though that throughout the course of Likbez’s initial phase, literacy activists were able to achieve just about all of their objectives – in terms of what accounted for the overall rate of citizens’ literacy, Soviet Union was still falling behind the rest of Western nations.
This particular issue has been effectively taken care of throughout the course of the Likbez campaign’s second phase (1927-1939). Whereas; following the establishment of Communist regime in Russia, Likbez’s activists were primarily concerned with the elimination of illiteracy, through the years 1927-1939 their foremost task became the elimination of malogramotnost (semi-literacy). It is being estimated that by the year 1936, 40 million of formerly illiterate Soviet citizens have been taught basic skills in reading, writing and counting. Moreover, by the year 1937, 20 million of semi-literate citizens have acquired the status of fully literate individuals. Therefore, there is nothing utterly surprising about the fact that, according to the statistical data of All-Soviet census of 1939, the rate of literacy among Soviet adult citizens amounted to 90%. Thus, it has only taken Likbez’s activists 20 years to turn Soviet Union from an essentially illiterate country into the country that featured the world’s highest rate of literacy among citizens. In its turn, this suggests that the legacy of Communist rule in Russia should not be discussed in the necessarily negative light. After all, even though this rule is now being commonly discussed in relation to a number of Communists atrocities, which had taken place throughout the course of thirties, Communists did succeed in turning Russia into the one of world’s major geopolitical powers. The implementation of Likbez campaign, on their part, contributed rather substantially to this process.
The earlier provided analysis of how Likbez’s campaigners went about eliminating illiteracy in the Soviet Union, allows us to identify the Likbez campaign’s most distinctive features:
- Ideologization – It is not only that Likbez’s enthusiasts strived to ‘liquidate illiteracy’, but also to make sure that those with the newly acquired skills in reading, writing and counting, would be willing to affiliate themselves with Communist ideology.
- Militarization – As it was pointed out earlier, Linbez’s activists were given the executive powers to go about promoting literacy in a strongly enforced manner – those illiterate individuals who refused attending litpunkts were often arrested and charged with ‘sabotage’. Moreover, the reason why Communist leaders had made a point in popularizing literacy among Soviet citizens is that these citizens’ newly acquired literacy was meant to qualify them for work at the military factories.
- Secularization – While teaching literacy to the masses of illiterate peasants, Likbez’s activists were simultaneously exposing the sheer fallaciousness of Christian religious dogmas. This, of course, contributed rather substantially to the process of Russian people growing increasingly enlightened, not in the solely educational, but also in the philosophical sense of this word.
- Mass-scalness – The implementation of Likbez had the undeniable subtleties of a classical mass-movement. Every little town and village were required to have their own litpunkts. This, of course, ensured that the Likbez campaign encompassed the representatives of just about all social classes.
Even though that, while struggling with illiteracy, Likbez’s campaigners never ceased adjusting their illiteracy-combating tactics to correspond with the qualitative essence of prevalent socio-political and discursive circumstances of the time, on both: regional and all-Soviet levels, the analysis of how Likbez’s activists proceeded with pushing their educational agenda allows us to identify the foremost keys to ensuring the successfulness of a particular literacy campaign in just about every other part of the world. These keys account for the following:
- In order for the implementation of a particular literacy campaign to yield the expected results, it must be politically motivated. As it was mentioned earlier, Soviet Communists thought of their Likbez campaign as such that was supposed to serve solely functional purposes. That is, they did not simply strive to increase the rate of citizens’ literacy in terms of a thing-in-itself. For them, citizens’ newly acquired literacy was nothing but yet another tool of promoting Communist ideology throughout the world. This was exactly the reason why Likbez proved utterly effective.
- The successfulness of a particular literacy campaign positively relates to the extent of its agents’ authoritarian-mindedness. Given the fact that it is being in the very nature of illiterate individuals to think of the concept of literacy as something that has very little practical value, the best way to encourage such individuals to seek literacy is exposing them to the prospect of criminal persecution, if they do not show enough enthusiasm, while studying how to read and write. This, however, can only be done in totalitarian states. Hence, the rhetorical sounding of Berman’s (1954) question, “Is it possible by terror and censorship to design tractors and tanks, to build hundreds of new cities and thousands of factories, to make atomic weapons?” (p. 750). Apparently, the totalitarian form of political governing is indeed being best suited for the practical implementation of educational initiatives.
- The promotion of literacy among the illiterate masses must go hand in hand with the promotion of a secularized worldview. One of the reasons why Likbez’s activists were able to fully achieve their educational objectives, within a matter of twenty years, is that they combined their promotion of literacy with the promotion of atheism. Apparently, they never ceased being aware of a simple fact that the notion of education, on the one hand, and the notion of religion, on the other, are conceptually incompatible. The legacy of Soviet Likbez campaign leaves very few doubts as to the fact that, once people are being freed of their religious prejudices, the concept of education begins to appeal to them naturally.
The Likbez literacy campaign stands out as a striking proof to the fact that the governmental officials’ endowment with a strong political will is the foremost precondition for the successful implementation of socio-economic and educational reforms. Even though Stalin himself was an essentially semi-literate individual (he never graduated from the Orthodox Seminary, where he was studying during the course of his early years), he nevertheless was perfectly aware of the fact that, in order to encourage people to indulge in educational pursuits, a so-called ‘stick and carrot’ approach must be deployed. This explains the ‘voluntarily-mandatory’ essence of educational tactics, which used to be deployed by Likbez’s activists, throughout the campaign’s entirety. As these activists used to say to the illiterate individuals – if you do not know how to read and write, we will teach you how; if you do not want to study how to read and write – we will force you to.
Nevertheless, despite the fact that there were many controversies to the practical implementation of the Likbez campaign, this campaign did produce a mortal blow to Russia’s thousand-year-old intellectual backwardness. By late thirties, Soviet Union became a thoroughly industrialized country with the world’s strongest army, which was just about to embark upon the ‘liberation’ of the whole Europe (and consequently – the whole world) from ‘capitalist oppression’. If it was not up to Hitler’s preventive attack of USSR in 1941, the world would have been turned into the ‘workers’ paradise’ a long time ago. As Winston Churchill once suggested, “Stalin received Russia with the plow and left it with the A-bomb” (Toymentsev, 2011, p. 312). Up until Soviet Union’s disintegration in 1991, this country featured one of the best systems of education in the whole world. Even today, Russian physicists, chemists, mathematicians, engineers and software designers with Soviet university diplomas, experience no problems whatsoever, while seeking employment abroad. This is nothing but another indirect consequence of Likbez having proven an utterly successful literacy campaign.
References
Berman, H. (1954). The ‘right to knowledge’ in the Soviet Union. Columbia Law Review, 54 (5), 749-764.
Clark, C. (1995). Literacy and labor: The Russian literacy campaign within the trade unions, 1923-27. Europe-Asia Studies, 47 (8), 1327-1341.
Davies, S. (2002). ‘Us against them’: Social identity in Soviet Russia, 1934-41. In S. Fitzpatrick (Ed.), Stalinism: New directions (pp. 47-71). New York: Routledge.
Easter, G. (1996). Personal networks and post-revolutionary state building: Soviet Russia reexamined. World Politics, 48 (4), 551-578.
Edgar, A. (2006). Bolshevism, patriarchy, and the nation: The Soviet ‘Emancipation’ of Muslim women in pan-Islamic perspective. Slavic Review, 65 (2), 252-272.
Fitzpatrick, S. (1994). Stalin’s peasants: Resistance and survival in the Russian village after collectivization. New York: Oxford University Press.
Freeze, G. (1989). The Orthodox Church and serfdom in Pre-reform Russia. Slavic Review, 48 (3), 361-387.
Petrova, Y. (2007). Likbez as a social project (on the sources of Samara guberniya, 1920–1930). Journal of Social Policy Studies, 5 (4), 519-540.
Singleton, S. (1966). The Tambov revolt (1920-1921). Slavic Review, 25 (3), 497- 512.
Snyder, J. (1994). Russian backwardness and the future of Europe. Daedalus, 123 (2), 179-201.
Suvorov, V. (1990). Icebreaker: Who started the Second World War?, London: Hamish Hamilton.
Targowski, A. (2011). The civilization approach to education in the 21st century. Comparative Civilizations Review, 65, 73-104.
Thatcher, I. (2006). Communism and religion in early Bolshevik Russia: A discussion of work published since 1989. European History Quarterly, 36 (4), 586-598.
Toymentsev, S. (2011). Legal but criminal: The failure of the ‘Russian Nuremberg’ and the paradoxes of post-Soviet memory. Comparative Literature Studies, 48 (3), 296-319.
Tudge, J. (1991). Education of young children in the Soviet Union: Current practice in historical perspective. The Elementary School Journal, 92 (1), 121-133.
Uldricks, T. (1999). The Icebreaker controversy: Did Stalin plan to attack Hitler? Slavic Review, 58 (3), 626-643.