This article focuses on anti-Semitic cartoons published in the right-wing, satirical, illustrated newspaper Pliuvium, which appeared in Russia after the 1905 Revolution. The illustrated journal represented one of the new, far-right media outlets in the wake of the events of 1905 and its editors sought to redefine Russia as a traditional monarchy, home to ethnic Russians. To accomplish this aim, Pliuvium employed caricaturists who drew contrasts between Russians and Jews, turning the latter into the antithesis of the nation. Through close readings of several anti-Semitic images from the newspaper, the author seeks to reveal the broader historical forces contained within them. In the end, these cartoons help us understand the “unholy trinity” comprising the ugly side of Russian nationhood, racism in Russian imperial culture, and the emergence of far-right publics by 1905.
This article examines the celebrations surrounding Victory Day in Russia. It situates the events of 9 May 2010 within the long-term processes of remembering the Great Patriotic War in Soviet and Russian society. The article analyzes various discussions that took place in Russia around the holiday, including the controversy over whether or not to display images of Stalin, the ongoing role veterans have played in the holiday, and its increasingly commercial aspects. While many commentators lamented the apparent turn from a sacred holiday to a commercial one, the author argues that Victory Day 2010 represents an important moment in how Russian remembrance has become less state-driven.
“Copying Cartoons” examines a set of albums used by Aleksandr Avgustovich Frolovskii (1867–1942). In the 1930s, Frolovskii, a retired math teacher, purchased the albums and used them to redraw political caricatures published in newspapers such as Pravda (Truth) and Izvestiia (The News) and journals such as Krokodil (Crocodile). Frolovskii was particularly drawn to the works of Boris Efimov, the principal political caricaturist for Izvestiia, and redrew over 100 of Efimov’s cartoons. Frolovskii’s albums, as this chapter argues, serve as both a visual history of the Stalin era and a record of what it meant to be “Soviet” during the Great Purges.