The Recriminalization of Homosexuality under Stalin: New Sources, New Answers

THE PURGE: THE HOMOSEXUAL COMMUNITY IN LENINGRAD UNDER ATTACK

In the early 1930s, Leningrad homosexuals began to draw the attention of the OGPU, even in the absence of a criminal statute against homosexuality. This scrutiny manifested in various ways, including arbitrary prosecutions and increased surveillance. These actions took place within the broader context of escalating repression against groups the Soviet authorities perceived as “dangerous” or merely suspicious.[34] In the early 1930s in Leningrad and elsewhere, the OGPU actively initiated so-called “group cases” targeting circles of people who knew each other and shared common interests.[35] Most of these individuals were members of the intelligentsia, and they were prosecuted by the newly established 4th Secret-Political Department of the OGPU, which specialized in monitoring “print, performances, artists,” and various groups of “anti-Soviet elements.”[36] Until the summer of 1933, homosexual men in Leningrad had not been prosecuted in an organized manner. This changed abruptly in August 1933, when the OGPU launched the first arrests of homosexual men living in the former capital, a campaign that would continue until late autumn. The primary source used in this piece to examine the lives of gay men, their socializing in the late 1920s and early 1930s, and their subsequent prosecution during the 1933 Leningrad affair is a nine-volume archival file preserved in the Federal Security Service (FSB) archive in St. Petersburg.[37] It has barely been analyzed before.[38]

All those men arrested in Leningrad were officially treated and convicted as “counterrevolutionaries.” In addition to Article 58, some men were also convicted under the following provisions of the RSFSR Criminal Code adopted in 1926: Article 150 (transmission of venereal disease), Article 151 (intercourse with someone having not achieved sexual maturity), and Article 155 (procuring for prostitution). Indeed, some of the men were infected with syphilis and admitted it during interrogations, while others were diagnosed by prison medical staff. However, the files contain no indication that the accusations of seducing minors or procuring for prostitution were supported by any evidence or further investigated. All men accused under the “political” Article 58 were rehabilitated by the Soviet and Russian authorities from 1989 to 1993.[39] Those convicted solely under Articles 150, 151, and 155 have not been rehabilitated to this day, as the state considers them duly convicted criminals rather than victims of political repression. The same logic applies to the thousands of men accused and convicted after the recriminalization of homosexuality in the Soviet Union. In post-Soviet Russia, they remain officially classified as criminals rather than recognized as victims of political repression.

Providing a comprehensive account and analysis of the prosecutions of homosexual men in Leningrad during the early 1930s remains a considerable challenge for historians. The available sources are fragmented, and the most critical materials, such as internal OGPU documents (including directives, reports, and internal correspondence), are almost certainly housed in the archives of the FSB, which remain inaccessible to researchers. Nevertheless, the nine-volume case file on the Leningrad affair helps identify some of the early victims of OGPU persecution as men interrogated in the summer and autumn of 1933 recalled friends who had been arrested previously.

One of the first victims of the OGPU among Leningrad homosexuals was Fëdor Poluianov (b. 1887), a talented actor well known within the community. An openly queer dancer and actor, Poluianov described himself as follows in 1921: “My nickname is Fifa, which I can hardly explain. I have been different from childhood (nervous breakdowns, hysteria, indifference toward women and men). As a child, I was taken to Professor Vladimir Bekhterev. I have never performed pederasty, but I masturbate, both by myself and with other men. In my entire life, I have never had sex with women. Why? I cannot explain.”[40] In the 1920s, Poluianov rose to fame as a star of The Crooked Mirror, an innovative Leningrad theater known for its parodies and miniatures (FIGURE 1). Renowned for his portrayals of female characters, Poluianov’s name frequently appeared in the press and on billboards as the theater’s leading star. In 1930, his flamboyant queerness came under sharp criticism in The Worker and the Theater (Rabochii i Teatr), one of the leading theatrical magazines reviewing the stage in Moscow and Leningrad: “Poluianov from The Crooked Mirror embodies two genders, portraying himself as half-dancer, half-ballerina. He represents two characters. He is contradicting himself.”[41]

It was not long before criticism of his artistry escalated into outright persecution. On February 15, 1931, the OGPU arrested Poluianov on charges of counterrevolutionary activities, sentencing him to ten years in the Solovetskii labor camp.[42] Some of those arrested later, during the mass arrests of 1933, mentioned Poluianov among their former acquaintances, noting that he had been arrested on “political charges,” unaware that they had been imprisoned for the very same reason.

The first arrests during the secret Leningrad campaign took place in August 1933 and continued through September. During the investigation, the men were held in the House of Preliminary Detention in the city center. The accused willingly disclosed details of their personal lives, including their sexual relationships. Arrested on suspicion of “counterrevolutionary activity”—a dangerously severe accusation—they revealed everything related to their social and sexual experiences, hoping this would clearly dissociate them from any anti-Soviet actions. The testimonies reveal a vibrant and tightly knit homosexual subculture in Leningrad, sustained by networks of friendships and acquaintances, social gatherings, and parties. However, the men’s interests extended beyond leisure, encompassing what we might now recognize as a queer agenda. One significant event of this kind was Magnus Hirschfeld’s visit to Leningrad in 1926, during which he delivered a lecture to the Leningrad homosexuals, acquainting them about the lives of their counterparts in Weimar Germany.[43] The lecture was organized by Nikolai Efremov, one of the oldest members of the homosexual community who was born in 1877, and was held in his apartment on Dobroliubov Avenue.[44]

Figure 1. The graphic image of an actor Fëdor Poluianov. Source: Mikaelo, “Krivoe zerkalo,” Vecherniaia Moskva, May 27, 1927, p. 2.

The regular social gatherings of men were, however, generally more social than intellectually driven. In the late 1920s and early 1930s, daily life for homosexual men in Leningrad was largely mundane, centered on maintaining social connections amid the gradual erosion of an already fragile freedom. Pavel Chernyshev, a thirty-five-year-old bartender of peasant origin, provided a detailed account of the “family evenings” that took place during the early 1930s. According to his testimony, these gatherings typically brought together around twenty-five to thirty men, some of whom dressed in drag and danced to the sound of an accordion. Others performed short skits, adding to the lively and theatrical atmosphere of the events.[45] These gatherings were not spontaneous, and organizers often charged an entrance fee, which was typically from fifty kopeks to a ruble.[46] The men also celebrated New Year’s Eve together. Aleksandr Galamei, an economist at the Leningrad Electric Machines Plant who was born in 1888, recalled being asked to photograph a New Year’s party in 1929.[47] All such evidence—both visual and epistolary—was confiscated by the OGPU during the arrests in 1933 and meticulously documented in the search protocols.[48] According to FSB archivists, these materials were later destroyed because they were deemed nonessential for preservation. As a result, this left a significant void in the material culture of Leningrad’s homosexual community.

Nikolai Gagaev, a 52-year-old waiter of peasant origin, did not conceal his homosexuality during his interrogation by OGPU operatives: “I have been practicing pederasty since 1911–1912, while in military service.”[49] At the time of his arrest, Gagaev was living with his partner of the same age, Mefodii Zhulikov. He named all the friends he could recall, most of whom were couples. He concluded with the following: “I have known all the mentioned pederasts for a long time. We visited each other and got along well.”[50] Meanwhile, the street activities, such as cruising and gatherings near public urinals, were particularly appealing to homosexual men who were not in stable partnerships. In the early 1930s, these street interactions functioned as both a form of emancipation and a source of peril due to their visibility to law enforcement. Street activity remained crucial in shaping the homosexual community and expanding its numbers. Throughout the 1920s, cruising gradually evolved into larger and more open gatherings at central locations that had been known since the late imperial era. What did they have to fear given that homosexuality had been decriminalized and there was no discussion of reversing this policy? Nikolai Belov (b. 1902) worked as a waiter in the cafeteria of Leningrad’s Finland Station. Arrested in August 1933, Belov ungrudgingly confirmed that he had been “a pederast since 1925 and had been seeking out like-minded individuals.”[51] As he put it, “the gatherings in Catherine Square have had a hot-tempered character, and the pederasts’ behavior attracted the attention of the public.” Vladimir Paul'son, a twenty-seven-year-old barman working at the dining room The Proletarian, recalled: “The gathering place for our pederasts in my circle is Catherine’s Garden, in front of the Drama Theater. Here, pederasts met one another, formed relationships, and sought new ones. They sang loudly, engaged in rough play, exposed themselves to passersby, and would enter the toilets to have intercourse. They grabbed the genitals of those who came in by accident and urinated on them.”[52] The artist Fëdor Patrikeev, born into a peasant family in 1905 and a graduate of the Higher Artistic and Technical Institute in 1930, was a regular visitor to such areas. He stated: “I did not have permanent partners; I usually met complete strangers in the streets or in the toilets. Who they were, I do not know. I believe that, for the most part, they were employees of Soviet agencies or party workers.”[53]

Homosexual men’s street-level activity did not go unnoticed by the police or the OGPU.[54] However, the materials from the Leningrad case suggest that in 1933 OGPU investigators were not particularly interested in either the street activities of homosexual men or their private lives per se. Despite the absence of internal OGPU documents related to the case within the Leningrad case archival files, the testimonies of the arrested men make the prosecutors’ ultimate objective clear. They sought to link these individuals through their homosexuality to German National Socialists or at the very least to extract confessions about their alleged “counterrevolutionary activity,” which the investigation framed as a natural consequence of their homosexuality. During his first interrogation in early October 1933, Nikolai Beller, a plumber born in 1899 in Samara, told the OGPU that he had “engaged in pederasty since 1925” and had “always felt attraction to men.”[55] Apart from discussing his sexual life, he did not provide much else. However, by the time of his second interrogation a month later, his statements had drastically changed, becoming heavily politically charged and critical of the Soviet authorities. In addition to stating that he and his friends discussed “the mistaken policy of the Soviet authorities,” he also brought up the “German connection”: “I devoted a great deal of time to the necessity of organizing the settlement of pederasts based on independence. We can see a similar situation in Germany, where pederasts have their own clubs and other institutions. During our gatherings, we actively discussed their living conditions in Germany, comparing them to our miserable situation in the Soviet Union.”[56] Beller also mentioned “the German journal of pederasts” that they used to read. Was this a coerced or fabricated element of self-denunciation or a genuine fact that conveniently aligned with the conspiracy narrative the OGPU sought from those arrested? Most likely, it was both. Thirty-five-yearold Dmitrii Lenskii-Obolenskii of noble origin worked as an actor at the Leningrad Theatre of Satire and Comedy (FIGURE 2). He was first interrogated in August 1933. Like many other arrested men, Lenskii-Obolenskii was explicit about his homosexuality: “I have practiced pederasty since 1922–23, and up until my arrest, I had been living with a ballet dancer, Vronskii. I described our affair in detail in my diary, which was confiscated during the search.”[57] His second interrogation took place two months later in November. It appears that the OGPU allowed this break to pressure him into providing the testimony they desired. Indeed, his statement during the second session lacked personal details and took on a formal tone, filled with ideologically charged language: “The analysis of the pederastic milieu of Leningrad clearly shows organization, unity, collective responsibility, and episodes of conspiracy (momenty konspiratsii).” The sophisticated man, who had kept a diary in which he expressed his love for his partner, would say in the autumn of 1933 during the second interrogation: “Pederasty, with its ugliness and filth, combined with the moral decay of those involved, is counterrevolutionary at a time of great socialist construction. It is an impediment to socialism in our country.”[58] Physical violence had not yet been legalized or widely practiced by the OGPU at the time. Sources indicate that although men were not physically beaten, they were subjected to solitary confinement and, evidently, psychological abuse.[59]

Once the properly framed self-denunciations were obtained, the officers informed the arrestee that the investigation was over. Among nearly 200 men, one stood out for having the courage to refuse to comply entirely and did so with striking defiance. Ivan Blinov, a 47-year-old cook of peasant background, worked at the Military Medical Academy. He was arrested on September 3, 1933. Blinov responded to the OGPU tersely and resolutely: “I have been involved in homosexual activity since school. I refuse to comment on those linked with me or on my homosexual activity in general for political reasons.”[60] Blinov did not say any more than that. His silence changed nothing, as the narrative of vicious, counterrevolutionary homosexuals had already been skillfully woven through the testimonies of the other men. Like the others, he was sent to a labor camp. All arrested men were sentenced as counterrevolutionaries in two groups in December 1933 and early January 1934.[61] With few exceptions, those convicted of homosexual activity were employed before their arrest and legally resided in Leningrad, having obtained their passports during the passportization campaign initiated earlier in 1933.[62]

Figure 2. Actor Dmitrii Lenskii-Obolenskii (1898–1947) in 1928. Source: Memorial Archive (Moscow), f. 1, op. 3, d. 3604, l. 67.

What is striking is that the OGPU arrested far fewer homosexual men than they could have. Those apprehended gave detailed accounts of their sexual lives and provided testimonies about several other homosexual men, such as former lovers, friends, and acquaintances, living in Leningrad and beyond. For example, the poets Mikhail Kuzmin and Riurik Ivnev were named among “pederasts.”[63] At the time, both were living in Leningrad and could have been easily arrested. Yet neither ever was. Kuzmin died of natural causes in 1936, already an old man, while Ivnev lived until 1981. Another intriguing case of someone who managed to avoid at least direct arrest was Nikolai Kurshakov. One of the arrested men mentioned Kurshakov by name, noting his “counterrevolutionary views.”[64] Born in 1886 into a prominent medical family in St. Petersburg, Kurshakov had an established career by the 1920s, working as a professor of medicine at Voronezh State University.[65] He was said to have been in a relationship with Prince Sergei Golitsyn, who was born in 1898 and an actor by occupation.[66] Golitsyn was arrested in 1938, accused of espionage on behalf of foreign intelligence services, and executed—a fate not uncommon in the Stalin’s state for members of the former nobility.[67] Kurshakov, however, not only avoided repression but also saw his career flourish. In 1935, he was transferred to Moscow and held a series of prestigious academic appointments. Moreover, he became the chief physician of the Steppe Front in 1943 and later of the 2nd Ukrainian Front. His career culminated in 1946 when he was appointed as a medical expert at the Nuremberg Trials, which was one of the most high-profile international proceedings in which the Soviet Union took part.

Why, then, were some men arrested and convicted in 1933 while others who were equally visible were left untouched? There are two possible explanations for this selectivity. The first is randomness in that the persecution was not systematic and inevitably some individuals were left out. The second explanation is that the operation’s limited scope was intentional, it was never meant to be total. However, none of the explanations exclude the possibility that information extracted during the 1933 arrests was subsequently used to exert pressure, coerce cooperation, or maintain informal control over certain people. It is also possible that the authorities were aware of the 1933 testimonies and retained them as kompromat on Kurshakov, and that he was sent to Nuremberg precisely because the state held leverage over him.[68]