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Diaries
of Frontline Intimacy |
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Oleg
Budnitskii was one of the first historians of the Great Patriotic War
to make extensive use of Soviet soldiers’ diaries, analyzing
them in conjunction and comparison with other kinds of sources.
Budnitskii has argued that, compared to soldiers’ letters and
memoirs or to internal surveillance reports (svodki), diaries best
capture combatants’ perspectives on frontline life,
particularly those aspects of it that were taboo. Because the post was
highly regulated, Red Army men and women wrote their letters
“with an eye to the military censor.” (6)
Soldiers’ memoirs too “were meticulously unified
and levelled after 1945.” (7) Meanwhile, svodki may have been
fabricated or embellished by Soviet officials trying to overfulfill
their quotas, Budnitskii has cautioned. (8) Comparing svodki and
diaries, Budnitskii argued: “in the former case, we generally
find monolithic official language, while in the latter, the
peculiarities and ‘irregularities’ of individual
voices are preserved.” (9) Based on such comparisons,
Budnitskii has regularly cast diaries as more
“reliable”, “spontaneous”, and
“authentic” than other genres. (10) He has
privileged the humble accounts of the rank-and-file and cited their
literary simplicity as evidence of accuracy or neutrality.
“These texts are lapidary, devoid of any stylistic
extravagances and they accurately reflect the atmosphere [...] of
battle”, he has argued. (11) |
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Since the late
2000s,
Budnitskii has published several articles that shed light on
particularly verboten or countervailing themes of frontline experience.
These include Soviet defeatism during the first months of the war,
sexual relations – both consensual and coerced –
between
men and women in the Red Army, the prevalence of antisemitism in the
Soviet military, and the massive sexual assaults perpetrated by Soviet
troops when they invaded Hungary, Austria and Germany at the end of
World War II. Uncovering a wealth of both published and unpublished
diaries, Budnitskii has made landmark interventions into the prevailing
view of the Great Patriotic War. |
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For instance,
based on diary evidence, Budnitskii has demonstrated that the war
caused a veritable “sexual revolution” in the norms
and behaviors of the frontline generation. (12) Such changes were to be
expected during a time when there was a severe shortage of men in the
rear and of women at the front, but this phenomenon was taboo in
postwar memoirs and interviews. Female fidelity in particular has been
a constant trope of the Great Patriotic War myth. (13) Using diaries,
however, Budnitskii not only recuperated stories of sex at the front,
he brought complexity and nuance to prevailing views that women at the
front were either victims of rape or sexually promiscuous. Budnitskii
certainly has acknowledged that both of these phenomena occurred,
especially the sexual exploitation of women. Indeed, he uses diary
evidence to show how “access to a female body became a
currency during the war.” (14)
However, drawing on journals like that of army translator Irina
Dunaevskaia, Budnitskii gives insight into the mix of emotions and
motives that colored many consensual frontline romances, broadening our
scholarly purview beyond victims and villains. Dunaevskaia was indeed
harassed by fellow soldiers for sex, but she also experienced subtler
pressure for intercourse from close male friends and confidants about
whom she generally cared. For three years she refused their advances;
as a widow, she was afraid of loving and then mourning another husband.
But her fear of grief was matched by equally strong feelings of
loneliness and disconnection. In her diary entry for 20 May, 1944,
Dunesvskaia wrote of her struggle between dueling emotional impulses:
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I am neither morally nor
physically able to bear loneliness anymore – after all, I am
only human and a woman! Everything is so short-lived in the war that
there can be no talk of any justified, serious, deep intimacy, since
tomorrow there may not be a person who is anyway dear today. I already
experienced it. […] But even so, it is unbearable. Surely I
can’t stand it! Surely I will not live to see my dream and,
unable to stand it, I will give myself in exchange for half-thoughts,
half-feelings, half-passion. (15) |
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Within several
months of this entry, Dunaevskaia indeed took a chance on love again,
legally marrying a fellow soldier and beginning a frontline romance
with him. However, it seems that her fears about “giving
herself” without being fully passionate came true, and within
two years, the couple separated. |
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Just as
Budnitskii shed light on the emotional complexities of the
“sexual revolution” at the front, he also analyzed
how Jewish soldiers negotiated aspects of their Jewish and Soviet
identities. Using their journals, he reconstructed “the
everyday life of a ‘Private Abram,’”
“his frame of mind”, and “his
feelings.” (16) Here again, the diaries document emotional
conflict and ambivalence. Budnitskii found that many Jewish soldiers
expressed an aversion to killing in their diaries even as they felt
morally justified in taking the lives of Hitler’s troops.
They also endured anti-Semitic remarks from the same Red-Army
commanders who resoundingly condemned the Nazis’ annihilation
of Jews. (17) Budnitskii’s article creates a composite
picture of “Private Abram” without leveling or
homogenizing the individual voices of the diarists. It eschews
stereotypes and pat social types, just as his piece on frontline sexual
relations did. Still, Budnitskii has aimed to illuminate
soldiers’ experiences that were shared, not just personal and
taboo. Thus, one of his main reservations about diaries has been the
difficulty of generalizing from a small number of accounts to
collective experience. He himself has questioned whether the diaries he
has uncovered are “sociologically representative”
enough to make claims about troops’ experiences. Although he
has carefully considered aspects of ethnicity, gender, class, and
education to qualify any claims he has made about soldiers’
journals, Budnitskii has identified the small size of his data set as a
persistent and unavoidable shortcoming of his research. (18) |
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Budnitskii’s
scholarship has corrected the longstanding misconception that Red Army
soldiers were prohibited from keeping diaries at the front, an
assumption that prevented some scholars from searching for such
accounts. Although troops occasionally referred to a ban on diary
writing, citing the security risk if they fell into enemy hands,
Budnitskii discovered there was “no special order to that
effect, and the treatment of those caught keeping a record of the war
was usually determined on an individual basis.” (19) In fact,
some soldiers learned how to keep diaries from political officers, and
they read their journals aloud to comrades and commanders. One such
diarist, a Sergeant Vladimir Gel’fand, recorded his political
officer-turned-writing coach’s advice in his journal:
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He
says the diary should be only about what work the company does, about
how the battles go, about our skillful commanders, and the political
instructors’ talks with the soldiers, about the Red Army
men’s reaction to these talks, etc. This is the way I will
write from now on. (20) |
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This notion
that a frontline
diary should record military engagements, political lessons, and
collective experiences rather than personal reflections or mundane
details – which the political officer called “silly
things” – stemmed from a widespread Soviet
anxiety
that diary writing might foster unhealthy self-absorption, egoism, or
bourgeois individualism. Yet, these “silly”
details,
Budnitskii observed, were often the most interesting parts of the
diary. (21)
Gel’fand’s journal underscores how Soviet diaries
were
seldom considered private but rather accounts that should serve a
societal good and tell a collective story. I discuss these points in
greater detail below. |
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Beyond
illuminating personal and prohibited aspects of soldiers’
experiences, Budnitskii has used troops’ diaries, and the
range of views recorded in them, to demonstrate that the Soviet
rank-and-file were capable “of independent thought, of
reflection, and of a critical perspective of the reality that
surrounded them.” Even under conditions of martial
discipline, “Soviet people clearly were intellectually much
freer, observant, and daring in their conclusions than is generally
believed. At least some of them were.” (22)
In this way, Budnitskii has pushed back against western, Cold War-era
assumptions that Soviet people were either brainwashed automatons
blindly obeying the regime or else they were secret dissidents,
outwardly conforming but privately rejecting Soviet ideology and
patriotism. Diaries help expose the folly in both of these overly
simplistic views of Soviet individuals. The thoughts they recorded were
discerning and varied. “Soviet society was still not
homogenous”, Budnitskii reiterated, even when the Nazi
invasion led to an upsurge of Soviet patriotism. Just as thousands
rushed to enlist, “a significant part of it (society) would
have been happy to witness the disappearance of the
Bolsheviks.” (23) And the diaries of those who were opposed
to or ambivalent about Soviet power further complicate the triumphant
myth of the Great Patriotic War, which casts World War II as a time of
complete unity, solidarity, patriotism, and willing sacrifice among
Soviet citizens, especially Red Army soldiers. (24) Indeed, one of
Budnitskii’s major contributions has been to spotlight
diversity and discord between the classes, ethnicities, and sexes that
comprised the Soviet military. And he has relied on diaries to do so. |
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In sum, when
researching the frontline experience, Budnitskii has favored diaries as
a preferable alternative to other genres of everyday life because
journals shed light on aspects of the Great Patriotic War that are less
well known or recognized. In this way, he has found diaries to be more
authentic and accurate than retrospective accounts, which adhere more
closely to the officially sanctioned and celebrated myth of the war
– its Soviet and postSoviet iterations. |
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Diaries
as Laboratories of the Self |
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Budnitskii’s
interest in opposing and sometimes oppositional narratives of war
distinguishes his work from another major scholarly approach, whereby
researchers use diaries to study how individuals integrated themselves
into Soviet society and inscribed their stories into that of the
Revolution. (25)
From this perspective, the diary was a tool of self-transformation
through which Soviet citizens could demonstrate that they had acquired
proletarian consciousness, internalized socialist values, and fashioned
themselves into ideal New Soviet People (novye sovetskie liudi). Thus,
unlike Budnitskii’s Gel’fand, who tried to focus
his account on military encounters and collective experiences, these
Soviet diarists turned to their journals to work on themselves and to
purge themselves of bourgeois, egoistic tendencies, expunging them onto
the page. Coal miner Vladimir Molodtsov, for instance, rebuked himself
in his diary when his thoughts – even unconscious ones
– drifted away from the task of building socialism through
Stalin’s Five Year Plan and toward personal, psychological
reflections |
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It
is interesting how there is a lack of accordance between psychology and
ideology. Ideologically, I myself mobilized myself [sic] to catch up
with the [Five Year] plan, and although I am working actively, my
psychology still draws me back home, to my hearth. This is evidenced by
the increasing numbers of dreams over the past two days, in which I saw
my mother. But ideology will raise psychology, this has to occur. (26)
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In this
journey of self-transformation, diarists like Molodtsov often reread
their previous entries to track their progress in the reorientation of
their thoughts and identities toward the Soviet collective. Playwright
Aleksandr Afinogenov, for instance, resolved to flip back through the
pages of his journal often, “always LOOKING BACK and
EXAMINING MYSELF, NOT ALLOWING MYSELF TO BECOME MY FORMER SELF, if even
only a tiny bit.” (27) What Gel’fand, Molodstov,
and Afinogenov have in common is the notion that the diary was not a
place for “silly”, self-absorbed musings but rather
a practice that should contribute to the betterment of society by
replacing individualistic tendencies with a communalist ones.
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Scholars who
approach Soviet
diaries as tools of self-transformation have traced the phenomenon to
the 1920s and 1930s, a time when individual citizens were called to
monitor and narrate their personal and political growth in
autobiographical narratives ranging from memoirs and Communist Party
applications to confessions and court testimonies. (28) This
longstanding practice became ubiquitous in the Stalin era. The diaries
of Molodstov and Afinogenov are just two of hundreds of diaries
analyzed by the historian Jochen Hellbeck. Hellbeck has centered his
research more on diaries of the 1930s than on those of World
War
II, but his methodological approach has been so influential, it has
shaped how scholars analyze diaries from the Stalin era more generally.
In the late 1920s, Hellbeck demonstrated, party representatives asked
workers building the Moscow Metro as well as exemplary laborers
(udarniki) from a variety of worksites to keep diaries in order to
showcase how they had honed their proletarian consciousness through
discipline and toil. Moreover, they were asked to read excerpts from
their journals at union meetings or publish them in wall and brigade
newspapers, where they could serve as models for fellow workers still
developing themselves. Here again, diaries were not considered
“purely private”. (29) They served a societal
function, and
they always had a potential reader – be it a political
officer, a
fellow worker, an official reviewing party applications, or a secret
police agent. During the Great Purges of the 1930s, party and police
officials seized diaries and mined them for evidence of
counter-revolutionary thoughts or deeds. These agents also treated
diaries as windows onto the interior self, whereby they could access
and assess the writer’s subjectivity (or inner sense of self).
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Most scholars agree that the practice of
diary writing
was critical to the Soviet regime’s project to mold and
perfect
its citizens. However, many disagree over whether the journals capture
genuine efforts at self-transformation or if they should be treated as
politically expedient performances of Sovietization. Historians Igal
Halfin, Jochen Hellbeck, and Oleg Kharkhordin have argued the former
position. Diaries, they suggest, demonstrate that Soviet citizens had a
distinct self-concept predicated on the fusion of their individual
selves with the collective; to keep a diary was to write oneself
“into the social and political order.” In this
respect,
they argue, Soviet subjectivity differed from liberal, western
subjectivity, which centered on the pursuit of individual privacy and
autonomy. (30) By contrast, other historians like Shelia Fitzpatrick
and Golfo Alexopoulos have argued that Soviet diaries should be read as
displays of a “useable self” crafted for the
purpose of
social or political advancement. (31)
Undoubtedly, citizens had to learn to “speak
Bolshevik” in
order to thrive in Stalinist society. The debate has been over whether
these speech acts indicated actual belief. (32) For Jochen Hellbeck,
such utterances were constitutive of thought and of the self. Diary
writing facilitated the internalization of Soviet ideology and models
of subjectivity. In this way, like Budnitskii, Hellbeck has
used
diaries to combat the application of liberal assumptions to Soviet
people by arguing that they conceived of themselves in unique terms
that were distinct from western culture. |
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One area where Budnitskii’s and
Hellbeck’s approaches diverge is on the question of
authenticity. While Budnitskii has argued that frontline diaries were
more spontaneously and sincerely written than other types of personal
accounts, Hellbeck has argued against classifying journals as private,
accurate, or authentic. These concepts themselves are all historically
specific and evolving – even for the diarists themselves. The
diary form, Hellbeck wrote, has “bedeviled literary and
historical scholars alike” for its
“‘uncertain’ nature between literary and
historical writing, between fictional and documentary, spontaneous and
reflected narrative, has frustrated many a literary specialist in
search for canonical clarity.” (33) Even if diarists intend
to pour their souls onto the page with the utmost sincerity, this does
not mean their narratives do not contain stylized, fictionalized, and
constructed elements. As such, Hellbeck argues, these texts need to be
deconstructed rather than taken on face value. And although he has
amassed and examined hundreds of diaries, Hellbeck’s
publications tend to examine a small number of journals in-depth, each
one a unique “laboratory of the self.” (34) He has
been less concerned about numerical generalizability than Budnitskii. |
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While Hellbeck himself has not declared
Soviet diaries to be authentic windows onto the soul, he has argued
that this is how they were perceived in the 1930s and 1940s. And not
only diaries penned by Soviet citizens. Hellbeck has demonstrated how
the Soviet wartime press made a concerted effort to publish excerpts of
German soldiers’ diaries and letters, which were found in the
rubble of smoking battlefields like Stalingrad. A leading voice in this
campaign was the celebrated Soviet writer and war correspondent
Il’ia Ehrenburg. Whether in military newspapers like Red Star
(Krasnaia zvezda) or all-union ones like Pravda and News (Izvestiia),
Ehrenburg published excerpts from enemy diaries in order to portray
Germans as barbaric savages and thus to fuel Soviet hatred and
bloodthirst. Soviet readers, Hellbeck argued, assumed that diaries were
spaces for candidly reckoning with one’s failings as part of
the ongoing “quest for moral self-improvement.” So,
when they read excerpts of German soldiers’ journals, which
described committing atrocities “without any moral
scrutiny”, Soviet readers took this as evidence that they
were inhuman monsters unworthy of mercy. (35) The diary, they believed,
was the key to unlocking German souls as well as Soviet ones. In this
way, Hellbeck has theorized the Soviet diary and its meaning based on
the perspectives of both writers and readers. Both assumed
“that a diary or letter disclosed the moral character of its
writer and that the purpose of writing was to further moral
improvement.” (36) |
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¹ Recent figures in: Schechter, Brandon. The Stuff of Soldiers: A History of the Red Army in World War II through Objects. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2019, pp. 21–22.
² Due in part to low literacy rates, there have been far fewer
studies of diary writing during the Russian empire’s
participation in World War I or during Russia’s civil war of
1918–1922. Studies of these conflicts tend to examine oral
testimonies, songs, memoirs, and letters as well as some diaries. They
include: Steinberg, Mark D. Voices of Revolution, 1917.
New Haven: Yale University Press, 2003; Rosenberg, William G.
“Reading Soldiers’ Moods: Russian Military Censorship and
the Configuration of Feeling in World War I,” American Historical Review, vol. 119, no. 3 (2014): 714–740; Novikova, Liudmila. An Anti-Bolshevik Alternative: The White Movement and the Civil War in the Russian North. Translated by Seth Bernstein. Madison, WI: University of Wisconsin Press, 2018.
³ Leningrad’s wartime diary-writing initiative is described in: Peri, Alexis. The War Within: Diaries from the Siege of Leningrad.
Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2017, pp. 13–14,
245–251; Leningrad’s postwar oral history project is
analyzed in: Zemskov-Züge, Andrea. “Remembering the War in
Soviet and Post-Soviet Russia: Official and Unofficial Practices of
Remembering,” in Sebastian Jobs and Alf Lüdtke, eds., Unsettling History: Archiving and Narrating in Historiography.
Frankfurt am Main: Campus, 2010, pp. 199–217. The Moscow-based
Commission of the USSR Academy of Sciences on the History of the Great
Patriotic War, which recorded some 4,000 interviews, is discussed in:
Budnitskii, Oleg. “A Harvard Project in Reverse: Materials of the
Commission of the USSR Academy of Sciences on the History of the Great
Patriotic War. Publications and Interpretations,” Kritika, vol. 19, no. 1 (2018): 175–202.
⁴ Budnitskii, “A Harvard Project in Reverse,” op. cit.; Boldovskii, Kirill. Padenie ‘blokadnykh sekretarei’: Partapparat Leningrada do i posle ‘Leningradskogo dela’. St. Petersburg: Nestor-Istoriia, 2018; Peri, Alexis, The War Within, op. cit., pp. 249–252.
⁵ Literary scholarship on Soviet wartime diaries includes: Paperno, Irina. Stories of the Soviet Experience: Memoirs, Diaries, Dreams.
Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2009; Barskova, Polina. “The
Spectacle of the Besieged City: Repurposing Cultural Memory in
Leningrad, 1941–1944,” Slavic Review, vol. 69, no. 2 (2010): 327–355; Barskova, Polina and Riccardo Niccolosi, eds. Blokadnye Narrativy: Sbornik statei. Moscow: Novoe Literaturnoe Obozrenie, 2017; Simmons, Cynthia and Nina Perlina. Writing the Siege of Leningrad: Women’s Diaries, Memoirs, and Documentary Prose.
Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh, 2002. Other literary studies of
the diary, which have fundamentally impacted how historians approach
the genre include: Paperno, Irina. “What Can be Done with
Diaries?” Russian Review, vol. 63, no. 4 (2004): 561–573; Aronson, Alex. Studies in Twentieth-Century Diaries: The Concealed Self.
Lewiston: The Edwin Mellen Press, 1991; Nussbaum, Felicity A.
“Toward Conceptualizing a Diary,” in James Olney, ed., Studies in Autobiography.
New York: Oxford University Press, 1988, pp. 128–140; Lejeune,
Philippe. “The Autobiographical Contract,” in Tzvetan
Todorov, ed., French Literary Theory Today: A Reader. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1982, pp. 192–222; Lejeune, Philippe. On Diary.
Edited by Jeremy D. Popkin and Julie Rak. Honolulu: University of
Hawai‘i, 2009; Lejeune, Philippe. “The Practice of the
Private Journal: Chronicle of an Investigation
(1986–1998),” in Rachel Langford and Russell West, eds., Marginal Voices, Marginal Forms: Diaries in European Literature and History. Atlanta: Rodopi, 1999; Kuhn-Osius, K. Eckhard. “Making Loose Ends Meet: Private Journals in the Public Realm,” German Quarterly, vol. 54 (1981): 166–176.
⁶ Budnitskii, Oleg. “The Intelligentsia meets the Enemy: Educated
Soviet Officers in Defeated Germany, 1945.” Translated by Susan
Rupp. Kritika, vol. 10, no. 3 (2009): 631.
⁷ Budnitskii, Oleg. “Jews at War: Diaries from the Front,” in Harriet Murav and Gennady Estraikh, eds., Soviet Jews in World War II: Fighting, Witnessing, Remembering. Boston: Academic Studies Press, 2014, p. 58.
⁸ Budnitskii, “The Intelligentsia meets the Enemy,” op. cit., p. 631.
⁹ Budnitskii, Oleg. “The Great Patriotic War and Soviet Society:
Defeatism, 1941–42.” Translated by Jason Morton. Kritika, vol. 15, no. 4 (2014): 777.
¹⁰ Budnitskii, “The Great Patriotic War and Soviet
Society,” op. cit., pp. 776–777; Budnitskii, Oleg.
“Muzhchiny i zhenshchiny v Krasnoi Armii
(1941–1945),” Les Cahiers du Monde Russe, vol. 52, nos. 2–3 (2011): 406.
¹¹ Budnitskii, “Jews at War: Diaries from the Front,” op. cit., p. 67.
¹² “Sexual revolution.” Budnitskii,
“Muzhchiny i zhenshchiny v Krasnoi Armii
(1941–1945),” op. cit., p. 406.
¹³ Budnitskii, “Muzhchiny i zhenshchiny v Krasnoi Armii (1941–1945),” op. cit., pp. 406, 408, 410.
¹⁴ “Access to the female body became the
‘currency’ of wartime.” Budnitskii, “Muzhchiny
i zhenshchiny v Krasnoi Armii (1941–1945),” op. cit., p.
413.
¹⁵ “I am neither morally nor physically able to bear
loneliness any longer. I am a person and a woman! But on the front
everything is so short-lived that no serious, deep intimacy can exist,
as tomorrow the person who is dear today may be gone. I have already
experienced this. […] But even so it is unbearable. Will I
survive? Will I not live to see my dream and, unable to endure,
exchange myself for half-thoughts, half-feelings, half-passion.”
Budnitskii, “Muzhchiny i zhenshchiny v Krasnoi Armii
(1941–1945),” op. cit., p. 419.
¹⁶ Budnitskii, “Jews at War: Diaries from the Front,” op. cit., p. 58.
¹⁷ Budnitskii, “Jews at War: Diaries from the Front,” op. cit., pp. 72–76.
¹⁸ Budnitskii, “Jews at War: Diaries from the Front,”
op. cit., p. 64; Budnitskii, “The Great Patriotic War and Soviet
Society,” op. cit., p. 778.
¹⁹ Budnitskii, “The Great Patriotic War and Soviet
Society,” op. cit., pp. 777–778. In his earlier work,
Budnitskii upheld the notion that there was a ban against soldiers
keeping diaries but he later revised this position.
²⁰ Budnitskii, “Jews at War: Diaries from the Front,” op. cit., p. 61.
²¹ Budnitskii, “Jews at War: Diaries from the Front,” op. cit., p. 61.
²² Budnitskii, “The Intelligentsia meets the Enemy,” op. cit., p. 681.
²³ Budnitskii, “The Great Patriotic War and Soviet
Society,” op. cit., p. 768. A different, but related critique of
the tendency to import liberal assumptions when studying Soviet
citizens in: Krylova, Anna. “The Tenacious Liberal Subject in
Soviet Studies,” Kritika, vol. 1, no. 1 (2000): 119–146.
²⁴ Studies of the mythos of the Great Patriotic War and memory
include: Tumarkin, Nina. “The Great Patriotic War as Myth and
Memory,” European Review,
vol. 11, no. 4 (2003): 595–611; Weiner, Amir. “The Making
of a Dominant Myth: The Second World War and the Construction of
Political Identities within the Soviet Polity,” Russian Review, vol. 55, no. 4 (1996): 638–660; Kirschenbaum, Lisa A. *The Legacy of the |
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