In Search of Zagranitsa
The Perfect Apathy of The Soviet Style Hunters
Ever since the end of the Second World War, countercultures seem to be an immutable fact of the coming postmodern world.
Emergent subcultures have always been a rather charming quirk of humankind, but something seemingly snapped during the 20th Century – and suddenly there were subcultures across the world that stood against their larger container culture. Greasers, Rockabillies, Hippies, Bikers, Mods, Metalheads, Bosozoku, Goths, Industrialists, Emos; when taken to brass tacks, each of these groups were united not only by a shared appreciation for music, aesthetics, and philosophies, but mostly by their desire to be apart from the larger culture; to functionally reject the values of a given society and willfully separate themselves from any culture other than the one to which they declare their allegiance – no matter how silly they might have to dress to make it clear to everyone.
It would seem that if one were to randomly select a country from a map, it is more than likely that wherever was selected had a prominent countercultural movement or two during the 20th Century. Though it may go against how we typically think of the former superpower, the USSR was no stranger to counterculture, and itself held a few distinct cultural movements that warrant consideration within the same conversation as those previously listed. Of particular note is what was perhaps the USSR’s first true counterculture, the youth who dreamed of the West: The Stilyagi.
The Stilyagi emerged following the end of the Second World War, a consequence of Soviet soldiers returning from the front having participated in cultural exchange with American troops supplied by the Allies. These exchanges resulted in Swing and Boogie-Woogie recordings making their way back to the Motherland, as well as knowledge of Western fashions and trends. As they returned to civilian life, they donned brightly colored Western-style zoot suits and American-styled sunglasses, held heads of Western-styled hair, listened to American Jazz and Rock-n-Roll: they were professing a wide-ranging fascination and appreciation for Western culture. Maybe they wanted to be rebellious, or maybe it was a genuine appreciation.
A key thing to consider is just how young of many of the soldiers that fought in World War II were. These exchanges of music and style were occurring primarily between young men who still wanted a fulfilling life after the war. When they finally returned home, many couldn’t wait to toy with all these new and exciting ideas they learned of when they were completely unable to engage with them. Their newfound fascination with Western culture, coupled with the common postwar desire to simply pursue apolitical fun, bred a culture that was absolutely not concerned with toeing the party line. These young folks were instead importing the recently-born American concept of “Cool.” Quite appropriate, then, that they were labeled Stilyagi: “Style Hunters.”
The distinct rallying point for the Stilyagi was the idea of Zagranitsa. While literally referring to the world outside of the Soviet borders, it was a sort of promised land to the Stilyagi, an idealized place where life was always joyous and plentiful. In the book In Search of Melancholy Baby, Vasily Aksyonov’s memoirs about his experience moving to the US in the 1980s, he describes the motivations of this longing from the perspective of the so-called “Stateniks” that the Stilyagi stood in opposition to: “Among the Soviet rank and file, pro-American feeling had a more material base: the people connected the word “America” with the miracle of tasty and nourishing foodstuffs in the midst of wartime misery.” In essence, this perspective is correct, but fails to acknowledge that this idealization both extends beyond the purely material while also failing to crystallize into any sort of actual anti-establishment rebellion.
Though it may seem more obvious to first contrast the Stilyagi with their direct Western counterparts, the Hipsters of the 1940s, it may be better to instead compare with a movement that shows clear distinction in its intentions. In this case, there’s no better point of immediate comparison than the missing link between the Hipster and the Hippie: The Beatnik.
Disciples of Jack Kerouac and adherents to the principles of the Beat Generation, Beatniks represented the transformation of the likewise jazz-oriented Hipster culture into an attitude of apathy towards the American way of life, leading eventually to the abandonment of predominant culture in favor of expanding one’s horizons to include new ways of thinking. This could not be further from the case of the Stilyagi. Though both appreciated Swing Jazz and funky clothes, the similarities between the two movements seems to end at aesthetics. Having such an immediate disconnect is important in establishing how these distinct countercultures may appear to be compatible, but often find themselves in pure disagreement on the philosophical level.
To be blunt, the Stilyagi did not operate on a very philosophical level.
The most often utilized comparison when discussing countercultural movements is the dual Punk movements within the US and UK during the 1970s and 1980s. Like the Punks, the Stilyagi sought to stand out in their fashion and their music, and reveled in the pure fact of their rebellion taking a form so thoroughly against the culture that contained them. Unlike the Punks, however, the Stilyagi did not lash out in their rebellion. From top to bottom, most aspects of Punk culture, music, fashion, and aesthetics are designed to be challenging to the observer, a distinct and purposeful show of aggression as a means to display that the Punks are not like, will not be like you, and will tear down the things in their way. In microcosm of this top-down cultural rebellion, the internal significance of “battle jackets” (denim and leather jackets or vests adorned with patches and pins advertising bands, political slogans, allegiance with certain internal Punk subcultures, and other forms of ideological expression) within Punk culture stems from a desire to challenge notions of popular fashion while refusing to purchase clothing from the fashion industry, opting instead to embrace the DIY aesthetic inherent in repairing damaged clothing.
Conversely, the Stilyagi were not motivated in their aesthetic choices by any sort of political messaging or social revolution. They were, instead, motivated primarily by the Rule of Cool: if it’s cool, then that alone is justification. The word Stilyagi, or “Style Hunter”, was a derogatory label based on the well-earned perception that style was all that truly mattered to these youths. There was no desire for anarchy or revolution, simply cool clothes and good times. In a chapter from Soviet History on Stilyagi, James Von Geldern writes: “Yet their rebellion was purely stylistic, and had little explicit critique of the Stalinist order – either because of the fearsome penalties, or because intellectual horizons had become obscured.”
In short we can easily say that the Stilyagi just didn’t carry with them the socio-political charge that underscored the endlessly various Punk cultures, and we cannot consider them to be social disruptors on the same level.
There is, however, another point of comparison that makes their brand of counterculture make more sense. Strangely, the Stilyagi’s general lust for hedonistic and apolitical fun is mirrored by a seemingly otherwise incompatible social movement from the UK: the Rudeboys.
Rudeboys, or ‘Rudies’, were participants in the British Second-Wave Ska movement of the ‘70s, and ‘80s. Much like the Stilyagi, Rudies dressed in brightly colored zoot suits, professed a desire for apolitical fun, centered their culture around a form of dance music, and held a strong fascination and appreciation for Jamaican/Caribbean culture. Both cultures also shared a fondness for bootleg recordings, as the Rudies carried on the Jamaican musical tradition of pressing and distributing ‘dubplates’ amongst DJs and members of the Dancehall scene, so as to circulate music without supporting exploitative import record distributors, much the same as the Stilyagis utilized discarded X-Ray film in order to cut “bone discs”, homemade LPs that contained illegal recordings.
Of course, there comes a massive point of difference: while the Stilyagi never properly utilized their cultural capital to generate any sort of political momentum, Rudies were often politically vocal, calling for peace, unity, and a stand against prejudice rather than anarchy and revolution. True, they desired nothing more than to dance to very upbeat and happy music, but they were not blind to the realities of the UK’s late 20th Century. They were attempting to use the joy and freedom of their culture to build political momentum in favor of a more peaceful world.
In all of my research, I have not been able to turn up any evidence of a single Stilyagi-associated political action. While they wanted to have a good time and party like Westerners, they simply weren’t going to fight you for it.
It would seem after all this, the quality that is truly unique about the Stilyagi is how purely escapist their movement was. There are no Stilyagi manifestos, no Stilyagi revolutionary groups, no Stilyagi artists calling for riots in the street and an end to the Soviet state. They were not out for change – they were bored. It seems that instead of scaring the parents of the USSR, they proved to be amusing at the best and annoying at the worst. At the risk of sounding dismissive, the movement feels rather inconsequential outside of some key cultural contributions and aesthetic developments. Yet, that’s the exact quality that makes the Stilyagi seem more distinct as a movement than most other 20th Century countercultures. While there are exceptions, the Stilyagi crowds were, generally, not made up of angry, disenfranchised youth. More often than not, they were little more than a mass of young people who were elated to be out of war and ready to see what this brave new world has to offer them.
It could very easily be the case that the Stilyagi can lay claim to being the only “real” counterculture of the 20th Century, built truly and wholeheartedly out of a wild-eyed pursuit for joy and a complete lack of desire to answer the question “Who gives a fuck?”