The Cold War from the Margins

A Small Socialist State on the Global Cultural Scene

Theodora Dragostinova

• Editorial: Cornell University Press
• Año: 2021
• ISBN:
  9781501755569
• Categoría: History
• Categoría: Eastern European History

In The Cold War from the Margins, Theodora K. Dragostinova reappraises the global 1970s from the perspective of a small socialist state—Bulgaria—and its cultural engagements with the Balkans, the West, and the Third World. During this anxious decade, Bulgaria's communist leadership invested heavily in cultural diplomacy to bolster its legitimacy at home and promote its agendas abroad. Bulgarians traveled the world to open museum exhibitions, show films, perform music, and showcase the cultural heritage and future aspirations of their "ancient yet modern" country.

As Dragostinova shows, these encounters transcended the Cold War's bloc mentality: Bulgaria's relations with Greece and Austria warmed, émigrés once considered enemies were embraced, and new cultural ties were forged with India, Mexico, and Nigeria. Pursuing contact with the West and solidarity with the Global South boosted Bulgaria's authoritarian regime by securing new allies and unifying its population. Complicating familiar narratives of both the 1970s and late socialism, The Cold War from the Margins places the history of socialism in an international context and recovers alternative models of global interconnectivity along East-South lines.

Thanks to generous funding from The Ohio State University Libraries and its participation in TOME (Toward an Open Monograph Ecosystem), the ebook editions of this book are available as Open Access volumes from Cornell Open (cornellpress.cornell.edu/cornell-open) and other repositories.

CHAPTER 1

The Contradictions of Developed Socialism

In his address to the Bulgarian people delivered on 20 October 1981, the general secretary of the Bulgarian Communist Party (BKP) and chairman of the State Council of the People’s Republic of Bulgaria (NRB), Todor Zhivkov, reminded his listeners: “We are on the threshold of a major national celebration—the 1300th anniversary of the Bulgarian state, one of the oldest states of Europe, which emerged on the ground . . . of the ancient civilizations in our lands, covered a long distance in its development, and has now reached the highest peak in contemporary progress—the triumph of the socialist social order.” The speech skillfully outlined an appealing national narrative, charting in significant detail the history of the Bulgarian people, “situated in one of the most neuralgic [sic] regions of the planet . . . at a crossroads between East and West, North and South.” The rhetoric then moved to ideological ground, emphasizing that “the victory of the socialist revolution . . . marked the greatest ever radical breakthrough in our 13-century-long history” because it “unfettered the powerful forces of the nation, provided an irresistible impetus to our country’s all-round progress, and marked the beginning of the implementation of the goals and tasks of centuries-long struggles and aspirations.” Zhivkov finally proposed visions for Bulgaria’s future development under developed socialism (razvit sotsializâm), linking the historical jubilee to domestic reforms and international initiatives already underway.1

While the Bulgarian communist leader’s self-congratulatory view is hardly surprising, international observers confirmed the invigorating power of the 1300-year jubilee, which made evident, both domestically and internationally, the Bulgarian people’s “pride in their cultural and historical heritage . . . and in current achievements in having raised the standard of living.”2 British reports from Sofia on the eve of the anniversary described, rather surprisingly, “a stable country with a growing sense of national identity, ruled by a self-confident and competent regime. Its people are better fed and better clothed than they used to be and have more opportunities for self-expression.”3 Following the 1300-year celebrations, another report concluded: “Bulgaria’s reputation as the Soviet Union’s closest and most willing client state has become such a cliché that the search for evidence to the contrary is irresistible. The staging of the 1300th anniversary was . . . a clear demonstration of national pride well removed from the professions of solidarity towards the Soviet Union to which we have become accustomed.”4

Integrating Bulgarian and foreign perspectives, this chapter provides background information on the internal situation in Bulgaria during the long 1970s and engages long-lasting stereotypes associated with the country throughout the Cold War, while explaining the role of culture and the celebration of the 1300-year jubilee during late socialism. Both in historical scholarship and in contemporaneous Western diplomatic and media sources, Bulgaria is frequently presented as a ruthless dictatorship completely subservient to the Soviet Union. The country is usually described as the Soviet Union’s most loyal ally, implying a strong degree of political dependence. Bulgaria also attracts attention because of its lack of a dissident movement during a time of heightened dissent in Eastern Europe, which is explained either through the regime’s brutal repression or the ingrained passivity of the population. These assumptions, even though often based on insufficient information or a simplistic reading of the facts, made the country seem unworthy of attention. Here, I take a closer look at the situation in Bulgaria to complicate both opinions. What if the “eternal Bulgarian-Soviet friendship” served the country well? Or the lack of dissent meant popular acceptance of the regime’s policies? This chapter adds much-needed nuance to the history of late socialism in Eastern Europe by analyzing the role of official culture in sustaining state socialist regimes. I demonstrate that Bulgarian cultural policies of the 1970s served the purpose of domestic legitimization as they reinvigorated Bulgarian “patriotism,” rejuvenated the social contract between the regime and its citizens, and undercut dissent by recruiting potential critics into the cultural projects sponsored by the state.

Western observers typically defaulted to clichés in their descriptions of Bulgaria. In the standard view, because the country was dependent on Soviet economic assistance for raw materials, training, and markets, it “ha[d] surrendered much of its sovereignty” to the Soviet Union, both militarily and in foreign policy.5 British diplomatic reports from the early 1970s spoke about its “docility” and concluded that the situation in Bulgaria served to illustrate “what Moscow would do, if it could, with the other members [of the Soviet bloc].” Because Bulgarian loyalty to the Soviet Union remained “unquestioned,” one reason to study Bulgaria was to “provide insight into the Soviet system.”6 Sofia’s reputation as “Moscow’s loyal flag-bearer” persisted into the 1970s.7 Western dispatches consistently spoke about “obedient Bulgaria” and “the master satellite.”8

Throughout the 1970s, as they learned more about the country—including from its cultural programs—diplomats began refining their assumptions. Bulgarian leader Zhivkov was sensitive to accusations of Bulgarian loyalty to the Soviet Union and its satellite role because it made “his country that much less interesting to the west.”9 Thus, the regime sought to proactively correct this view. In 1979, Zhivkov joked that “the Soviet Union was really a Bulgarian colony” since Bulgaria received its raw materials from Russia and sold its finished ones there, in “the classic colonial relationship.”10 That year, the British ambassador in Sofia observed: “If they can find a way to satisfy Moscow by form and themselves by substance, [the Bulgarians] will choose it. If they can get their own way by shouting ‘Eternal Friendship’ a bit louder they will do so.”11 By the late 1970s, the Soviet proxy stereotype had been subjected to fine-tuning: now, diplomats saw the internal situation in Bulgaria as “not bad” while they detected “no specific obstacles to normalization, such as the human rights problems in Czechoslovakia.”12 In 1981, the Economist called Bulgaria “Un-Polish.”13 One might argue that, in the midst of turmoil elsewhere in Eastern Europe, “un-Polish” and “not bad” meant good.

At the same time, Western media covering Bulgaria usually described a climate of merciless domestic repression that allegedly eradicated all opposition. In 1975, Radio Free Europe (RFE) concluded: “apparently the intercession-intimidation mechanism is extremely intricate and always effective. The regime’s elaborate bureaucratic apparatus seems to have perfected it to the point where almost nothing can be done to counteract it.”14 But this rigid view did not withstand scrutiny. British diplomats, while describing “widespread, underlying political apathy” and “lack of enthusiasm in communism, particularly amongst young people and intelligentsia,” pointed out that in Bulgaria, “there was no obvious discontent.”15 The “youth problem” manifested itself in work-shyness, antipathy to public service, and craving for all things Western. Yet, while young Bulgarians wanted more consumer goods, travel, cultural choices, and a better standard of living, what they did not want was political change.16

Unable to offer a satisfactory explanation for the fact that discontent had not become dissent, Western diplomats spoke of Zhivkov’s “benevolent dictatorship,” a phrase that captures well the contradictions of late socialism.17 Official policies benefited ordinary people: in 1981, the year of the 1300th anniversary, the economy “performed well . . . and real incomes increased,” the availability of consumer goods “continued to improve,” the political system was “stable,” and there was “no audible discontent,” while in foreign affairs the country saw the “ceaseless coming and going of delegations from overseas.”18 Thus, observers remained skeptical of the potential for radical change: “it is tempting to believe that the apathy and the social malaise . . . will lead to significant changes in the political order. This would be wishful thinking.”19

Cultural policies provide a window into the “benevolent dictatorship” of Todor Zhivkov, as they allow us to engage the shifting political and social order of the 1970s and explain the normalization of late socialism.20 In the 1970s, but especially after Zhivkov’s daughter, Liudmila Zhivkova, took charge of culture in 1975, new ideas of aesthetic education and beauty replaced the worn-out Marxist vocabulary of domestic cultural programs. Concurrently, Bulgarian elites launched a massive campaign of cultural diplomacy to create a new image for the country. The national and international aspects of these cultural policies were closely intertwined: on the global scene as well as at home, Bulgaria was showcasing not only its communist credentials, but also its national uniqueness and broader contributions to humanity. The 1300th anniversary celebrations, in particular, had “two beneficial side-effects . . . first in helping to publicise Bulgaria and its achievements abroad, and second in encouraging a sense of national pride and self-confidence [at home].”21 In my analysis, I show that official culture, vacillating between creative expression, national campaign, public relations plan, and propaganda, fulfilled both international prestige-making aspirations and domestic morale-building goals.

Before I examine Bulgaria’s ambitious international cultural policies, it is important to outline the domestic conditions that made this new course possible. For Bulgaria, the period of late socialism was characterized by relative economic security and reform, the political solidification of the regime, an active foreign policy agenda, and attempted projects of social rejuvenation. The country also saw the revival and active promotion of “patriotism,” which was at the core of cultural events embracing historical topics. In this context, the “cultural front” acquired new prominence as it actively served ideological, national, and morale-building functions, and culture became a visible priority of state policy, both financially and administratively. These processes were accompanied by the entry of a new generation into the state and party apparatuses; many members of this third generation of communist elites made their careers in the cultural sphere. Further, the new cultural policies undermined the formation of a dissident movement, as they coopted and disarmed potential detractors of the regime. An accommodation emerged between the regime and its citizens, leading to the acceptance of developed socialism by many Bulgarian citizens.

Building Developed Socialism: Bulgaria in the Long 1970s

Bulgaria’s reputation as a loyal Soviet ally is connected to the origins of the communist regime. In 1946, Georgi Dimitrov, the longtime Comintern leader and close associate of Joseph Stalin, returned to Bulgaria, assumed BKP leadership, and became the prime minister, helping consolidate communist control (he passed away in 1949 and was replaced by Vasil Kolarov and then Vâlko Chervenkov). Following Stalin’s death in 1953, a mid-level apparatchik, Todor Zhivkov, astutely used Soviet power struggles to undermine the Stalinist Chervenkov. Zhivkov became a secretary of the BKP in 1954, but following the Twentieth Congress of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union in February 1956 (which famously featured Nikita Khrushchev’s secret speech), he orchestrated Chervenkov’s removal during the April Plenum of the BKP (in the spirit of eliminating the Stalinist cult of personality). From that point on, Zhivkov pursued a two-pronged strategy for maintaining power: first, he ingratiated himself with the Soviet leader (by providing support during the Hungarian Revolution of 1956 and suggesting even closer relations and an eventual “merging” between Bulgaria and the Soviet Union in 1962) and second, he proactively removed internal challengers and promoted loyal followers (with the creation of the Committee of Active Fighters against Fascism and Capitalism in 1959 and the appointment of trusted cadres to the Politburo in 1962). When Leonid Brezhnev came to power in 1964, Zhivkov followed the same policies of reaping political and economic benefits from a close relationship with the new Soviet leader: with the slowdown of the economy in the early 1960s, Soviet financial support was critical. In 1968, Bulgaria sent troops during the Warsaw Pact invasion of Czechoslovakia and later unconditionally supported the Brezhnev doctrine. At the same time, Zhivkov continued his skillful political maneuvering at home, implementing additional purges of internal opponents in 1968 and 1972 in the wake of the Prague Spring and shoring up the security services to better detect political opposition and monitor social discontent. Yet, Zhivkov treated his opponents with moderation. He did not imprison or strip them of privileges but offered them retirement or appointed them to honorary positions, successfully undercutting the development of intra-party opposition and preventing broader social repercussions.22

From the mid-1960s on, the regime also started to pay closer attention to the everyday needs of the population, using social policies to expand its base and create a broader consensus. Political scientist Ivaĭlo Znepolski describes Bulgaria during this period as a “consensual dictatorship,” a concept that aligns with contemporary characterizations of Zhivkov’s rule as a “benevolent dictatorship.”23 The period of the long 1970s was in many ways the “golden age” of the Zhivkov regime, which saw the perfection of his “benevolent,” “consensual” authoritarian rule. While periodically the general secretary had to address economic, foreign policy, political, and social challenges, he did this confidently and calmly, assuring both the political elites and the “masses” that developed socialism was a success.

What were the main developments in Bulgaria during the long 1970s? The global economic crisis of 1973 caused ripple effects in Bulgarian society, because Western countries ceased importing Bulgarian goods, which constituted its main source of hard currency. The regime continued to receive oil supplies from the Soviet Union with prices much below their international market value. However, the negative export balance pushed Bulgaria’s ruling elites toward borrowing from Western banks, quickly inflating its foreign debt. As it had in the 1960s, in 1979 Bulgaria received Soviet financial assistance to cover its debt obligations, and by the early 1980s the debt problem was under control. The close relationship with the Soviet Union benefitted the Bulgarian regime economic...