Propaganda vs Art: Socialist realism

    Socialist realism is a realistic art style firstly introduced in the Soviet Union. The main goal behind it was to portray an ideal picture of the socialist society through realism and some aspects of romanticism. It differs from the critical realism of the 19th century because one of the goals of realists, such as Tolstoy and Dostoevsky, was to portray reality it in the most objective way possible, whereas socialist realists had a goal of promoting the ideology; i.e., depicting it as an ideal. This was the absurd contradiction of socialist realism; it was stranded in a place between what is and what should be; between realism in its name and utopianism in its practice. As Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, one of the most important Russian authors of all time, once noted, “The solemn pledge to abstain from telling the truth was called Socialist realism”. While the themes fluctuated with the current state of affairs, the typical recurring motifs of socialist realism were the following; the working man, the federation's flag, the red star, the cult of personality, glorified life in the socialist state, happiness, optimism, etc. Socialist realism should not be confused with social realism which is another art style concerned primarily with the working class and the critique of social structures. In 1934 during the infamous Stalin era, socialist realism was imposed as the official art style of the Soviet Union. While most of its artists were from the Soviet Union, socialist realism wasn’t confined by the physical borders. The author of East Germany’s official anthem, to illustrate, was an Austrian composer Hanns Eisler. Considering that the artists of socialist realism had a rather limited thematic specter of creation, their artistic creativity was restricted as well. Like the majority of the spheres of life in totalitarian socialist states, the main and only purpose of art was to serve the ideology. Despite that, the better part of socialist realism art is appreciated even today, proving that the artistic talent managed to penetrate through propaganda. The question to explore, consequently, is where exactly the border between art and propaganda is. Bear in mind, though, that the focus will be solely on dividing these two terms; differentiating various art styles/periods or determining one kind of art (outside of propaganda) as "truer" than another is, thus, beyond the scope of this essay as it is a highly debated and too wide a topic.


    English Oxford Dictionary defines propaganda as a set of information, especially of a biased or misleading nature, used to promote a political cause or point of view. On the other hand, art is defined as “The expression or application of human creative skill and imagination, typically in a visual form such as painting or sculpture, producing works to be appreciated primarily for their beauty or emotional power.” Considering these two definitions, it is obvious that many propagandistic and artistic works may overlap, meaning that it is difficult to define them solely as one or the other. Furthermore, many historical works that were created primarily as propaganda are now considered art. To illustrate, Aleksandr Gerasimov’s painting “Stalin and Voroshilov in the Kremlin” was created as a pure propagandistic painting. Nevertheless, it would be wrong not to give the author his due in regards to the quality of the painting and his artistic skills. Although created with a specific goal in mind, what seems to happen with such works is that the propagandistic element begins to fade as the years go by. Jordan Peterson noted in one of his lectures that the interesting thing about Soviet paintings is that they are like a battleground between art, as the artistic quality of the paintings is very high, and propaganda, due to the clear goal that the art had, and that the art always wins when enough time passes. To demonstrate this, he gave an example of how a painting of Lenin won’t be primarily a painting of Lenin as a person when enough years pass because his importance as a historical figure will fade. What will remain is its artistic value. The art will supersede propaganda across time. It is important to note, however, how the Soviets insisted on naming their propaganda as an art style. Why didn’t they just call it propaganda, but hid it behind “socialist realism”? Joseph Goebbels, Hitler’s minister of propaganda, stated that “Propaganda is a much maligned and often misunderstood word… the layman uses it to mean something inferior or even despicable. The word propaganda always has a bitter aftertaste”. In other words, propaganda doesn’t usually sit well with people if you define it as such probably because that makes it easier to see through its deceptiveness. It is for this reason that the propagandists insisted on avoiding calling propaganda what it is as well as why recognizing propaganda is an always important task.


With this in mind, how to differentiate the artistic from the propagandistic? A possible way is to look at the process of creating the work. True art seems to be something that is created with no a priori goal in mind. It is, in a sense, a quest for beauty where the focus is on the journey, not solely on the result. Immanuel Kant and Arthur Schopenhauer coined this as the disinterestedness of art; the artist (and the person enjoying the art) is focusing on the art itself rather than on something external through art. It is not that he is disinterested in art, but he is interested exclusively in it. Schopenhauer expressed this by saying that it is only through art that our ever-lasting (and, in his words, futile) desire is put on hold as we emerge in the beauty. The difference between a physical cup of coffee and a painting of the cup is, thus, in the fact that we see the physical cup solely as the object which holds the fulfillment of our physiological desire (thirst), while the painting is there to represent the object (cup) in itself and its potential beauty. We see the object, not merely our memory of the object or its purpose, which is what we usually see in our daily lives. Thus, it is an attempt of achieving transcendence; of uplifting us away from ourselves and connecting us with something greater. In platonic terms, it is the love of the form of Beauty that allows transcendence. We realize, in the moment of encountering true art, that we don’t only experience the individual beauty of that object, but through that particular object, we feel the connectedness of all that which is beautiful. This essence of beauty is both universal and eternal which, in turn, makes us eternal while we are witnessing it. The artworks are the windows into eternity. Needless to say, the ruling party in the Soviet Union, which did invest a lot of capital in arts, cared predominantly about indoctrinating the population with their ideology rather than pursuing artistic values. With such art, the aforementioned process is confined within the boundaries of the ideology by having a specific goal in mind firstly and then creating the work based on it. In other words, art is used as a tool for ideology. Hence, Stalin once described artists as the “engineers of the soul”. 

Another possible distinction between the two concepts is in what can be extracted from them. Propaganda, such as the works of socialist realism, focuses mainly on primal emotions such as pride, fear, and hate. Contrarily, true art stimulates the intellect and the deeper emotions in us and usually doesn’t depict only one side of the coin. What makes Fyodor Dostoevsky one of the greatest authors of all time is the depth of his characters and situations where the mythological battle between good and evil is not fought between two sides on the outside, but rather between each individual from within. Everyone is both good and bad at the same time. The banal white and black characterization is intertwined into a “chiaroscuro”, leaving the individual with the responsibility of struggling towards the light. On the other hand, the works of Maxim Gorky usually depict a clear distinction between the “right” and the “wrong” side which is most often inherent to the depicted economic class. Not only is this practically incorrect, but it robs the individual of his individuality by seeing him primarily as a member of a group, not as a unique being. As Gary Saul Morson argued in his article Socialist Realism and Literary Theory, “The two-dimensional psychology of its heroes, especially its positive heroes in contrast to the psychological complexity of Western counterparts. It might be said, for example, that whereas Western novels tend to depict a quest for personality, Soviet novels usually depict the hero’s quest for impersonality, his struggle to become one with his Marxist-Leninist role”. It seems though, that the primal emotions of pride, hate, and fear lose their value with the passing of time as the utopian-turned-dystopian state ceases to exist. That could be one possible explanation of the aforementioned win of art over propaganda across time. When those emotions lose their “punch”, the true art can start to shine its light. Perhaps, this is why the Soviets forbid every other art style outside of socialist realism. Maybe they knew they were in a losing battle if they confronted their propaganda with true art. 

Many artists were punished by death for their “sins” of creating other art styles such as the avant-garde which was defined as “Trotskyite deviationism” by the Stalin government. The reason behind this definition was that Leon Trotsky, one of Stalin’s main enemies, supported the diversity of artistic styles. Writers, poets, and filmmakers such as Boris Pilnyak, Vsevolod Meyerhold, Gustav Klutsis, and Alexei Gan paid the price for continuing to practice their art even after the ban. The first artistic work forbidden by the Soviet Union was Yevgeny Zamyatin’s dystopian novel “We” which points to the problems of totalitarian states. In one of his complaints against Stalin, Zamyatin wrote, "No creative activity is possible in an atmosphere of systematic persecution that increases in intensity from year to year. In each of my published works, these critics have inevitably discovered some diabolical intent. Regardless of the content of a given work, the very fact of my signature has become a sufficient reason for declaring the work as a crime. Of course, any falsification is permissible in fighting the devil. I beg to be permitted to go abroad with my wife with the right to return as soon as it becomes possible in our country to serve great ideas in literature without cringing before little men, as soon as there is at least partial change in the prevailing view concerning the role of the literary artist”. What Zamyatin argued, apart from revealing the difficulties of working and living for someone deemed the “enemy”, is that the role of an artist is lost through repression. Totalitarian societies place themselves in the highest place of the hierarchy of values. They deify themselves which not only, by their corrupt logic, gives them the moral justification for being the judge, juror, and executioner, but also profanes that which should be transcendent and, thus, disables the possibility of experiencing it truly. If you put artistic work in chains, you will inevitably limit the possible greatness that comes from it.

    Unsurprisingly, during the time of repression which sterilized the artists, the quality of Soviet art gradually plummeted. This didn’t seem to bother the Soviets too much as the quality and beauty of artistic works were not of their highest interest. An example of the lack of desire for beauty for beauty’s sake can be found in communist architecture; the so-called Brutalism. Its characteristics included lack of ornaments, concrete build, roughness, and massiveness while its focus was on functionality rather than aesthetics. The positive lesson from this historic account is that art indeed wins at the end. Not only as the antithesis of propaganda but even from within it. Art beats propaganda and it penetrates through it with the help of artistic talent and time. For an artwork to be true, it must remind us that there is something greater than us by making us remove ourselves from the picture. We must feel it through us, but not in regards to us. It isn’t beautiful because it made us cry, but it made us cry because it is beautiful; we are touched by it because it uplifts us from our worldly struggles by silencing the Schopenhauerian will (blind desire) from which we usually can’t escape. “You must treat a work of art like a great man; stand before it and wait patiently till it deigns to speak”.