Into the Cosmos Read online

wise mentor who taught the core Communist values, loyal military ser-

  vice, building up character and physical strength through a “trial of fire,”

  receiving an important mission from the Communist Party, achieving

  the lifetime dream by carrying out that mission, and finally coming back

  88  Slava Gerovitch

  with an important message reaffirming the Communist values. Both

  Kamanin’s and cosmonauts’ biographies contained little detail about the

  feats themselves but were rich in expressions of gratitude to the party for

  inspiration and support. The father figure of omniscient Stalin, promi-

  nent in Kamanin’s account, was gently replaced in cosmonaut biogra-

  phies by the equally omniscient “chief designer” of the space program.60

  Kamanin’s energetic efforts to publicize the lives of cosmonauts

  caused discomfort for his military superiors and ideological watchdogs,

  who were losing control over space propaganda discourse. In 1963 the

  KGB and the General Staff raised concerns about possible revealing of

  state secrets—in particular, cosmonaut training methods.61 Kamanin

  had to close the Cosmonaut Training Center to journalists, photogra-

  phers, and movie producers and to start producing publicity materials

  by the center’s staff.62 Bound by secrecy on one side and by propaganda

  demands on the other, Soviet media coverage of space was reduced to a

  set of clichés: flawless cosmonauts flew perfect missions, supported by

  unfailing technology. As a result, Kamanin privately admitted, “people

  get the impression of ‘extraordinary ease’ and almost complete safety of

  prolonged spaceflights. In fact, such flights are very difficult and danger-

  ous for the cosmonauts, not only physically but also psychologically.”63 Yet

  Kamanin himself discouraged more controversial public representations

  of human space exploration. For example, he refused to serve as a consul-

  tant for Andrei Tarkovsky’s movie Solaris, because, as he explained, such fiction “belittles human dignity and denigrates the prospects of civilization.”64

  Idealized media descriptions of cosmonauts’ personal qualities

  closely matched the “Moral Code of the Builder of Communism” from

  the new Party Program.65 This code included such ethical imperatives

  as “love of the socialist motherland,” “conscientious labor for the good

  of society,” “a high sense of public duty,” “collectivism and comradely

  mutual assistance,” “moral purity, modesty, and unpretentiousness in

  social and private life,” and “mutual respect in the family, and concern

  for the upbringing of children.”66 Evgenii Karpov, the head of the Cos-

  monaut Training Center, gave the following list of Gagarin’s personal

  traits: “Selfless patriotism. An unshakable belief in the success of flight.

  Excellent health. Inexhaustible optimism. The flexibility of mind and

  inquisitiveness. Courage and determination. Carefulness. Diligence.

  Endurance. Simplicity. Modesty. Great human warmth and attention to

  The Human inside a Propaganda Machine  89

  people around him.”67 The Party Program language clearly echoes in this

  description, suggesting that cosmonaut representations were thoroughly

  informed by the tenets of political discourse. Gagarin seemed to be spe-

  cifically selected to match the myth he was to embody.

  Gagarin’s idealized image reveals a paradox, however. According

  to the leading space journalist and historian Iaroslav Golovanov, “most

  studies of Gagarin drive a stubborn idea of Gagarin’s exceptionalism

  and at the same time stress that Gagarin apparently did not distinguish

  himself among others or ‘push’ others by the force of his personality; he

  was ‘like everyone else.’”68 One sympathetic Indian journalist described

  Gagarin as “normal to the point of abnormality.”69 Gagarin fully shared

  the experiences and feelings of his cohort. “For all of us, Yuri [Gagarin]

  personified the whole generation of Soviet people, whose childhood was

  singed by the war,” recalled one cosmonaut.70 Even Kamanin called him

  “the most normal of the normal.”71

  Gagarin’s natural charisma, geniality, and openness began to shape

  a new image of the Soviet man abroad. The old imagery—the menacing-

  looking dictator Stalin, the dogmatic party bureaucrat, and the stern So-

  viet soldier—was replaced by this cheerful and charming young man.

  “The first cosmonaut was chosen ideally to represent the Soviet man be-

  fore the nations of the entire world. His perfect features, pleasant look,

  his charming smile and even his short height, which stresses his youth-

  ful stature—everything makes the most favorable impression on anyone

  who met with him, saw him in cinema or on television,” raved the Indian

  journalist. “The almost mythical idea of the Soviet man became reality

  for the people of the world in this unusually humane, modest, and agree-

  able image of Yuri Gagarin. They can see now that he is an attractive

  young man, an exemplary son, a devoted husband, a cultured man who

  loves to read good books and listen to good music. The fact that he is a

  communist does not mean that he is intolerant toward those who disagree

  with his ideology, and it does not mean that he lacks a sense of humor.”72

  Perhaps it was this “abnormal normalcy,” rather than the idealized pro-

  paganda image, that endeared Gagarin to millions of people around the

  world. The story of an ordinary person performing an extraordinary feat

  felt more humane and inspiring than tales of superman’s super deeds.

  Performing a spaceflight required a lot of courage, but facing worldwide

  fame presented an even greater challenge.

  90  Slava Gerovitch

  The Burden of Fame

  The Soviet government organized mass manifestations to celebrate

  space achievements in the same way all mass events were orchestrated.

  First, the number of attendees was set; usually two thousand to three

  thousand for the welcome ceremony at Vnukovo airport and sixty thou-

  sand to two hundred thousand for the demonstration on Red Square.

  Helicopters dropped leaflets, organizations received quotas for sending

  people to greet the cosmonauts along the route to Red Square, columns

  marched, leaders gave speeches, and music played. The day ended with

  a gala reception in the Kremlin for the select guests and with lavish

  fireworks for the masses.73 “Although the new rituals were artificially

  designed,” the historian Richard Stites wrote, “many of them were suf-

  ficiently artful, emotional, and ‘authentic’ to insure [ sic] some success among Soviet citizens.”74 Despite the thorough planning, the public outpouring of emotions seemed genuine. “At the dawn of the Space Age,

  people were coming out to greet cosmonauts on their own initiative,” one

  memoirist has recalled.75

  The eminent historian of Russian science Loren R. Graham, then

  in his thirties, was among the ecstatic crowd on Red Square on April 14,

  1961, celebrating Gagarin’s triumph. He recalled that day as “the apogee

  in Soviet citizens’ belief that they held the key to the future of civiliza-

  tion. The celebrations on the stre
et were genuine and heartfelt. Soviet

  science was, they were sure, the best in the world, and Soviet rockets

  succeeded where American ones failed.”76 For the postwar generation of

  Soviet people the cosmonauts’ triumphs signified an ultimate payoff for

  years of sacrifice during the war and for Stalin-era privations. “Gagarin’s

  achievement was our greatest pride,” recalled a member of the “Sput-

  nik generation.”77 According to the 1963 poll of the readers of a popular

  youth-oriented Soviet newspaper, Gagarin’s flight was named by far the

  greatest human achievement of the century.78

  While before the flight the cosmonauts’ training was mostly techni-

  cal, their activity after the flight was to a large extent political. Immedi-

  ately after landing, the cosmonauts were thrust into a “swirl of recep-

  tions, trips around the world, and incessant speeches,” as the cosmonaut

  Konstantin Feoktistov recalled.79 Thousands of requests for interviews

  and invitations to visit various factories and institutions poured down

  The Human inside a Propaganda Machine  91

  on Kamanin, who oversaw the cosmonauts’ schedules. The organizers of

  public events attempted desperately to lure in a cosmonaut or two, using

  all sorts of leverage on Kamanin, from his military superiors to the con-

  nections at the Party Central Committee.80 The top military brass liked

  to appear at public events accompanied by a couple of cosmonauts to bask

  in the cosmonauts’ glory, and they often gave Kamanin direct orders to

  summon cosmonauts to serve as their entourage.81 In September 1964,

  Kamanin wrote in his private diary about his meeting with Bykovskii:

  “We understood each other without words. Bykovskii has been going to

  receptions and meetings seven days in a row, and he is tired of this. He

  insisted on letting him do his regular job. I said, ‘I know everything. If

  they send you again tomorrow, you can rebel, but today you must be at the

  House of Friendship to meet with the Finns.’”82

  Kamanin tried to keep a lid on what he termed “partying and empty

  talk” and to allocate adequate time for cosmonauts’ flight training and

  academic studies.83 The Air Force Engineering Academy, where cosmo-

  nauts studied, complained about their absenteeism, and cosmonauts re-

  peatedly asked Kamanin to cut the number of public appearance at least

  during the final exams.84 Kamanin attempted to limit their public ap-

  pearances to one to two per week, rejecting more than 90 percent of all

  invitations.85 Turning down high-level requests became so routine that

  he even refused to allow the cosmonauts Nikolaev and Popovich to meet

  with the party activists from the staff of the USSR Council of Ministers.

  The request was granted only after a threatening phone call from the

  Party Central Committee.86 From 1961 through 1970 the cosmonauts at-

  tended more than six thousand public events in the Soviet Union.87

  Like any celebrity, cosmonauts soon grew tired of incessant public

  attention. It became impossible for them to show up in public without

  causing mayhem. In June 1962, Titov and his wife attended a popular

  music concert, but as soon as the audience learned that the cosmonaut

  was present, everybody stopped listening and started searching for Titov.

  When the concert ended, Titov and his wife had to run for their lives.

  “The entire crowd rushed to the exit to see Gherman and his wife,” re-

  called an eyewitness. “The railing around a public garden miraculously

  held under pressure, and a reinforced police unit was able to restrain the

  excited mass of people for a few moments to give the Titovs an opportu-

  nity to jump into their black Volga and to escape the violent expression

  of universal love.”88 Cosmonauts’ private lives became subordinated to

  92  Slava Gerovitch

  the demands of the propaganda machine. They were routinely recalled

  from their vacations to attend various public ceremonies in Moscow.89 No

  wonder cosmonauts soon began to complain to their superiors that they

  were “dead tired” of “meeting with the people.”90

  When asked in an interview about his most difficult challenge, Gaga-

  rin unhesitatingly replied, “it’s to carry the burden of fame.”91 He even

  compared this burden to the heavy g-loads he experienced during his

  spaceflight.92 Yet Gagarin took his public mission very seriously. He ap-

  preciated people spending hours in line to see him, and he patiently did

  his duty, giving speeches and signing autographs. He explained to his

  friends that his activity was necessary to establish a broad public support

  for the space enterprise: “A person would come home, show my auto-

  graph, and tell about meeting a cosmonaut. A conversation about cosmo-

  nautics in general would ensue, and such conversations add up to form a

  public opinion.”93

  Groomed by the Soviet political leadership to serve as ideological

  icons of Communism, cosmonauts also toured the world, spreading the

  message of world peace, cooperation in space, and support for the Com-

  munist cause. Within four months after completing his space mission,

  Gagarin visited Brazil, Bulgaria, Canada, Cuba, Czechoslovakia, Finland,

  Great Britain, Hungary, and Iceland.94 In every country he visited, Gaga-

  rin drew enormous crowds. In Calcutta more than a million people gath-

  ered to see him, which prompted Kamanin to compare Gagarin favorably

  to Jesus. Recalling (in his private diary) that the crowd fed by five loaves

  of bread counted only five thousand, Kamanin concluded that Gagarin

  would be a clear winner.95 On his trip to England in July 1961, Gaga-

  rin won universal admiration for his willingness to travel in an open car

  under the pouring rain. He reportedly said that if the people could get

  wet waiting to see him, then so should he.96 As the number of invita-

  tions to visit foreign countries became overwhelming, Kamanin had to

  turn down more than two-thirds of all invitations.97 Eventually the Soviet

  authorities introduced a complicated system, by which all cosmonauts’

  foreign trips had to be authorized by the party leadership. The trips of

  Tereshkova were authorized by the highest political body, the Presidium

  of the Party Central Committee.98 All requests had to receive prior ap-

  proval from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, the Ministry of Defense, and

  the KGB.99

  The Human inside a Propaganda Machine  93

  Cosmonauts’ visits had a particular political importance in the Third

  World, where their public appearances were carefully planned to support

  pro-Soviet politicians. During a 1961 trip with his wife to India, Gagarin

  privately complained to Kamanin about the overloaded schedule: “Too

  much politics, and nothing for ourselves; we did not even see any ele-

  phants.”100 In the course of one day during his visit to Ceylon, for exam-

  ple, Gagarin traveled more than three hundred miles, visited nine towns,

  and gave more than fifteen speeches.101 During his numerous foreign

  trips he endured nearly 150 days of such political marathons.102 While

  diligently fulfilling his public res
ponsibilities, Gagarin privately told Ka-

  manin that he was “drained to the bottom.”103 Kamanin had to fight both

  Soviet ambassadors and local politicians, who pushed Gagarin to per-

  form for fourteen hours a day. In his private diary Kamanin noted: “They

  do everything possible to squeeze out of Gagarin the maximum support

  for the government. They don’t care how this would affect him.”104 Even

  in an open publication, Kamanin hinted at the problem: “Meetings and

  demonstrations follow one another; then come lectures and receptions.

  The sun is mercilessly burning. Sweat is covering the eyes. The feet are

  filling with lead. Yet Gagarin, excited and joyous, is standing in the hu-

  man vortex and responding to greetings. Well, this is his duty.”105 Af-

  ter several years of incessant propaganda trips abroad Gagarin began to

  have nightmares: “Sometimes I close my eyes and see endless queues of

  people with burning eyes, shouting greetings in foreign languages.”106

  Soviet officials viewed the reception of cosmonauts in various coun-

  tries as a litmus test of the political leanings of local politicians. Kama-

  nin observed that Warsaw was the only capital of a socialist country that

  welcomed Soviet cosmonauts with portraits of both cosmonauts and

  American astronauts. He concluded that “Poland would easily enter into

  a closer contact with the West at the expense of the interests of the Soviet

  Union.”107 Kamanin’s deputy, who accompanied the cosmonaut Titov on

  a trip to Vietnam, noted that some prominent political leaders did not

  attend any of Titov’s appearances, and suggested that this might indicate

  a split in Vietnam’s leadership.108 While the Soviet government tried to

  use cosmonauts as “agitators for communism” and to improve the Soviet

  image all over the world, local politicians often exploited the visits to their own ends, trying to boost their public image. Cosmonauts were greeted

  with either excessive hospitality or ostentatious coldness, depending on

  94  Slava Gerovitch

  local political rivalries and the relations between provincial elites and

  the federal government. If Soviet officials perceived that they were be-

  ing taken advantage of, they tried to regain the initiative. When the local

  authorities in Bombay deliberately gave Gagarin’s visit a low profile, the