From Inprecor, No. 0, May 9, 1974, pp. 19–24.
Transcription/Markup by Martin Fahlgren in 2011 for the Marxists Internet Archive.
The Gulag Archipelago testifies to a threefold tragedy. First, the tragedy of the Stalinist purges that struck at millions of Soviet citizens, among them the majority of the old cadres of the Bolshevik party, who were innocent of the crimes they were charged with. Second, the tragedy of a present-day generation of rebel intellectuals in the Soviet Union whose experience of Stalinism has led them to reject Leninism and Marxism and who are thus incapable of understanding the causes of Stalinist repression, the present reality of the Soviet Union, or the solutions required by the crisis of Soviet society. Third, the personal tragedy of a writer of exceptional talent who, because of his inability to understand the origins and character of the evil he is confronted with, has come to reactionary conclusions that to some extent even adopt the theories with which Stalin and his executioners justified their crimes in the past – the same theories that are used to justify the repression that is once again striking political oppositionists in the USSR.
The first subject of The Gulag Archipelago is the world of forced labor camps created by Stalin and the GPU. During Stalin’s reign the inmates of these camps numbered in the millions, the overwhelming majority of them deported, if not executed, in obvious violation of Soviet legality. They were railroaded to the camps by a whole range of monstrous arbitrary procedures: torture, total suppression of all the rights guaranteed by the Soviet constitution, use of secret decrees that themselves violated the constitution and the penal code.
Solzhenitsyn has assembled a mass of testimony about the conditions under which the great Stalinist purges took place. He especially denounces the direct responsibility for these crimes borne by the team around Stalin. Not just the Berias and Yezhovs, but also the Kaganoviches and the Molotovs, the men whose complicity accounts for the reticence of so many bureaucratic dignitaries to press ahead after the Twentieth Congress of the Soviet Communist party with the plan of bringing all Stalin’s crimes to light.
Solzhenitsyn recounts in detail the condemnations and deportations of whole categories of citizens: all the personnel of the East China railway, all the Korean communist refugees in the USSR, most of the old fighters of the Austrian Schutzbund, most of the former members of the Lettish Red Guard, who had played such an important role in the victory of the October Revolution and the creation of the Red Army.
To be sure, those (in the West!) who have been able to read Leon Trotsky’s books The Revolution Betrayed and The Crimes of Stalin or the book on the Soviet labor camps by the Mensheviks Dallin and Nikolaevsky will not learn anything basically new from The Gulag Archipelago. But they will appreciate the series of vignettes through which the great novelist Solzhenitsyn sketches the personalities he met in prison and in the camps: the old revolutionary worker Anatoly Ilyich Fastenko; chief technician S—vs, prototype of the careerist bureaucrat; M.P. Yakobovich, the old Menshevik, later a Bolshevik and victim of the first witch-hunt trial (the dry run for the future Moscow trials); M.D. Rioumin, the vice-minister of state security who in the realm of depravity surpassed even the sinister Abakumov, Stalin’s right-hand man, and who seems to have been the organizer of the “doctor’s plot,” which was intended to set off a massive new purge that was just barely averted by the death of the tyrant. These unforgettable sketches, which join those of The First Circle and One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich, are no doubt the most valuable part of The Gulag Archipelago.
The book also contains details on the tortures used by the GPU to extract confessions from the accused. Here Solzhenitsyn generally confirms Trotsky’s conclusion that lack of a political outlook independent of Stalinism (that is, the political capitulation of Stalin’s unfortunate victims before the bureaucratic dictatorship) was the real basis of the confessions.
One of the rare sensational revelations of The Gulag Archipelago is that there were some trials that turned out badly for the bureaucracy, trials in which the accused retracted their confessions and turned the accusations not only against the torturers themselves, but also against Stalin’s policies, which were often responsible for the “crimes” the prisoners were accused of. Such was the case in the trial of the Communist leaders in the small village of Kadyj in the district of Ivanov.
The general impression that comes out of this important part of The Gulag Archipelago is a thorough condemnation of institutionalized repression as a system of government, for that was the objective character of the Stalinist purges. A regime based neither on the political support of the laboring masses nor on the satisfaction of their material needs must resort to terror which becomes the main state institution. That is the most striking aspect of the Stalinist world of concentration camps, and not the supposed “economic” contribution that prison labor is said to have made to the industrialization of the USSR.
Those who blindly denied the reality of that terror or who still deny it today do not contribute one iota to “defending the cause of communism.” On the contrary, they cover up foul crimes against communism and against the Soviet working class, crimes that are all the more pernicious in that they have discredited and continue to discredit the cause of communism in the eyes of a not inconsiderable section of the world proletariat.
If there were nothing in The Gulag Archipelago except denunciation of Stalin’s crimes sprinkled with a few observations on the old theme that “Leninism is at bottom responsible for the crimes of Stalin”, it would be enough merely to defend Solzhenitsyn against the bureaucracy’s repression while regretting his ideological confusion.
But the reality is otherwise. In The Gulag Archipelago Solzhenitsyn systematically attempts to demonstrate with facts and figures that institutionalized terror began at the time of the October Revolution. That is the second central theme of the book, and it is scarcely less developed than the first one. Presented with a mass of evidence and in the impassioned language of an author whose literary talent need not be demonstrated, an author who presents himself to millions of readers adorned with the halo of a victim of contemptible persecution, this theme will have a deep influence on the people of the capitalist countries as well as those of the bureaucratized workers states.
The dialectical interplay between Solzhenitsyn and the Soviet bureaucracy on this point immediately asserts itself as fundamentally counterrevolutionary. Incapable of answering Solzhenitsyn’s arguments, the Kremlin bolsters the credibility of the novelist’s thesis by heaping slanders and lies upon him and by expelling him from his country, thus facilitating his efforts to drag Bolshevism, Marxism, and the workers movement through the mud. And the circle is closed when the Kremlin uses Solzhenitsyn’s reactionary ideology to “prove” that the opposition in the USSR is counterrevolutionary and that, after all, freedom of expression has to be “controlled” in order to avoid the appearance of “two, three, many Solzhenitsyns” – with or without talent.
It would take a long book to refute in detail Solzhenitsyn’s slanders of the October Revolution. We hope that a revolutionary Marxist militant will write such a book. That would confirm once again who are the real heirs and continuators of Bolshevism. Here we can deal only with the most essential points.
First, let’s look at the facts. Here the moralist Solzhenitsyn begins with an enormous fraud. In dozens of pages he lays out a detailed description of the red terror. But not a word about the white terror that came first and that led to the Bolsheviks’ response!
Not a word about the generosity of the revolutionists in October, November, and December, 1917, when they freed most, if not all, of their prisoners; like General Kaledin, for example, who quickly responded by unleashing a wave of terror and assassinations against the proletariat in power! Not a word about the thousands of communists, commissars, and soldiers traitorously murdered throughout a country put to the torch and drowned in blood with the aim of reestablishing the rule of the landlords and capitalists. Not a word about the armed attacks on Bolshevik leaders – not imaginary attacks, like the ones the victims of the Moscow trials were accused of, but real ones, like the assassination of Volodarsky and the attempted assassination of Lenin! Not a word about the intervention of foreign armies, about the invasion of Soviet territory on seven different fronts! Solzhenitsyn the “moralist” and “nationalist” is singularly reduced in stature by presenting such a one-sided analysis.
And further on the level of facts: Solzhenitsyn tries to prove too much, and he winds up proving nothing. In trying to draw a parallel between the “absence of law and legality” during the early years of the revolution and a similar absence under Stalin, Solzhenitsyn cites a series of court speeches by the Bolshevik Commissar of Justice Krilenko. But what does this “evidence” prove? That under Lenin and Trotsky, there were no confessions extracted under torture, that the accused were able to defend themselves freely – and not without a chance of success – that these trials were hardly witch-hunt trials, but rather revolutionary ones, doubtlessly sometimes based on circumstantial and insufficient evidence, as is always the case in a revolutionary period, but a thousand miles removed from the caricatures of justice staged by Stalin.
Two trials cited by Solzhenitsyn himself perfectly illustrate the basic difference between the Bolshevik revolution and the Stalinist counterrevolution.
V.V. Oldenberger, an old apolitical engineer who was chief technician of the Moscow waterworks, was persecuted by a communist cell that wanted to remove him because he was so apolitical. He was driven to suicide. Solzhenitsyn waxes indignant about the corrupt, ignoble, communist plotters in this factory. It’s not until you read to the end of Solzhenitsyn’s account that you find out that the trial he is talking about was organized by the Soviet state to defend Oldenberger, a trial organized against the communist cell that had persecuted him, a trial that ended by sentencing his persecutors, a trial that proved that the workers in the plant had been able to freely elect Oldenberger to the Soviet against the unanimous pressure of the communist cell.
The second trial involved a Tolstoyan, a determined opponent of bearing arms who was condemned to death at the height of the civil war for conscientious objection. That trial ended in an even more dramatic fashion. The soldiers assigned to guard the condemned man justifiably considered the verdict monstrous. So they organized a general assembly in the barracks and sent a motion to the city soviet demanding that the verdict be overturned. And they won!
So we hove workers who can elect an apolitical technician to the soviet despite the opposition of a communist cell composed of members who were at best ultrasectarians and at worst totally corrupted careerists. We have soldiers who revolt against the verdict of a court, organize a general assembly, interfere in the “great affairs of state,” and save the life of their prisoner. Solzhenitsyn – without realizing it – is describing the real difference between an era of revolution and an era of counterrevolution. Let him cite similar examples from the Stalin era to prove that basically it was all the same under Lenin and under Stalin!
No Leninist worthy of the name would be so obstinate as to deny today that the Soviet regime made mistakes both in matters of repression and in political decisions. And how could it be otherwise with leaders who had the formidable honor of being the first in history to construct a state in the service of the workers and all the exploited on the scale of a vast country in face of bloody and ferocious attacks from powerful enemies, and who had to do it without being able to rely on precedents, instead developing their theories as they went along? Today we know that it was a mistake to step up the repression when the civil war was over, that it was a mistake to suppress all the other Soviet parties in 1921 and thereby institutionalize one-party rule, and that it was a mistake to ban factions within this party. All these measures were conceived at the time as temporary and taken in response to immediate difficulties. They were characterized by an overestimation of the immediate danger posed by the counterrevolution, which actually had been beaten and dispersed, and by an underestimation of the demoralizing consequences they would have for the consciousness and activity of the proletariat in a political climate characterized more and more by administrative repression and less and less by the conscious participation of the masses. These measures facilitated the political expropriation of the proletariat, the strangulation of internal democracy in the Bolshevik party, and the establishment of the bureaucracy’s dictatorship. But all this could not have been known with certainty at the time. We know it today. And the Fourth International has drawn all the necessary programmatic conclusions.
But those who denounce the Bolsheviks today have to look at what real alternatives existed at the time. They have to take account of the terrible responsibility of the German Social Democracy (that is, Menshevism), which, by drowning the German revolution in blood paved the way first for Stalin and then for Hitler. They have to consider the fate that awaited the workers and peasants in Germany, where the revolution was not defended mercilessly and effectively.
The thousands of victims of Horthy’s white terror in Hungary – to cite just one example – would have been nothing compared to the hundreds of thousands of workers and peasants who would have been massacred in Russia had the white terror been victorious. That rather seems to speak in favor of the justice of the Bolsheviks.
Solzhenitsyn is on even weaker ground when he moves from the realm of facts to the realm of ideology. In seeking an explanation for the Stalinist terror all he manages to come up with is an attack on ideology, or rather contemporary ideological fanaticism. Under twentieth century conditions, he claims, inquisitionists, conquistadors, colonizers, fascists, jacobins, and – obviously – Marxists would all be transformed into the murderers of millions of their contemporaries.
The first thing that is striking about this little list is that it is, to say the least, incomplete. Why has Solzhenitsyn forgotten religious fanaticism? Religious wars have “caused” the death of millions of people throughout history. And what about nationalism and the ideology of “defense of the fatherland” in the imperialist countries, which in the first world war alone “caused” more deaths than the entire Stalinist terror? Is Solzhenitsyn’s forgetfulness perhaps a result of the fact that he is an advocate of these two ideologies, religion and nationalism?
What is also striking is the extremely superficial character of Solzhenitsyn’s explanation. Why has the same “ideology” produced murderous fanaticism in some epochs and liberal and peaceful tolerance in others? Is it really for “ideological” reasons? Or is it rather because definite and tangible material interests were at work?
Solzhenitsyn likes to “count up” the victims of the Stalinist purges and compare the total to the tally rung up by tsarist and fascist repression. But these “quantitative” comparisons can be extended. What “ideology” was it that “fanaticized” the semi-illerate book-burners in Chile, who in the space of a few days killed 20,000 people and imprisoned 40,000 others? These are figures that on the scale of the USSR would amount to 600,000 murdered and 1.2 million deported! In the space of a few days! Stalin would be green with envy. Were the book-burners motivated by “ideological fanaticism” or by the desire to defend private property and the eternal values of “free enterprise” and capitalist exploitation?
And what about the famous “crusade” that Franco organized in 1936 to “reconquer” the country that had “failed into the hands of the reds” – a crusade that resulted in the murder of more than a million Spaniards by “nationalist troops“? On the scale of the USSR that would be the equivalent of 9 million dead, if we were to play Solzhenitsyn’s numbers game. Was it really some sort of “ideology” that could have provoked such a frightful massacre? Wasn’t it rather an attempt – at any price, even the price of rivers of blood – to prevent the establishment of a workers and poor peasants regime on the Iberian peninsula?
It is only Marxism that can explain and account for the succession of periods of barbarism and civilization throughout human history. When a class is firmly in power, sure of itself and its future, when its strength is increasing and social contradictions are temporarily easing, then it can afford the luxury of ruling through relatively peaceful and civilized means. (Except for moments when its power is suddenly challenged; then we have the massacres of the Communards by the Versailles, even in the nineteenth century, so “civilized” and peaceful in comparison to our own “barbaric” epoch.)
But when a ruling class is in decline, when its power is crumbling, when its regime is torn by deeper and deeper contradictions, then barbarism comes to the surface again and the reality of class domination appears in its bloodiest form.
Our epoch is the epoch of the death agony of the capitalist system. The longer this death agony is prolonged, the more features of barbarism, bloody repression, and contempt for human life will proliferate. In this historic sense, Stalin is a product of capitalism, just as much as Hitler, Auschwitz, Hiroshima, and the bombing and defoliation of Vietnam. He is not the product of Soviet society or the October Revolution.
In a narrower and more immediate sense, Stalinist terror is the product of the victory of political counterrevolution in the Soviet Union. The fact that Stalin had to exterminate a whole generation of revolutionists who had led the October Revolution and erected the Soviet state is in itself sufficient to refute the identity Solzhenitsyn arbitrarily establishes between the executioner and his victims. This political counterrevolution in turn represents definite material and social interests: those of a privileged bureaucratic layer that while basing itself on the new property relations created by the socialist revolution, defends its own monopoly of economic and political control as well as the immense advantages that it draws from the prevailing conditions of prolonged scarcity.
By rejecting Marxism, Solzhenitsyn and those who think like him render themselves incapable of explaining the events that have so deeply affected them. Trotsky was fond of quoting Spinoza: “do not laugh, do not cry, but understand.” Solzhenitsyn laughs bitterly and cries a great deal. But he doesn’t understand very much.
The contradictions in Solzhenitsyn’s thought – consequences of his rejection of Marxism – come through in the most striking fashion when the moralist is forced to abandon even the most elementary moral considerations when dealing with the Marxists of our epoch, especially Trotsky and the Trotskyists. In order to justify his claim that Stalin was the continuator and not the gravedigger of Bolshevism, Solzhenitsyn tries to demonstrate that all the Bolsheviks aided Stalin, capitulated before him, collaborated in his crimes, and were accomplices in his frame-up trials.
Beginning from the correct observation that those who politically capitulated before Stalin were logically led to act in this way (because, as Solzhenitsyn puts it, “politics without moral foundation leads inevitably to covering up any crime“), Solzhenitsyn concludes that all communists were politically defenseless against Stalin and collaborated in the terror of the 1930s and 1940s. He even goes so far as to say that Trotsky himself would have confessed to anything the GPU required had he fallen into Stalin’s hands. This because Trotsky also lacked an “independent outlook” and an ideology really independent of Stalinism! Besides, he supposedly had no experience with physical and mental tortures, which would have made him able to resist the GPU.
There is not the slightest evidence to support such allegations. They represent only a dredged up version, scarcely even amended or edited, of Stalinist slanders of Trotskyism.
To claim that no communist tendency had an ideological basis independent of Stalinist terror and that all communists therefore were fated to capitulate before the terror is to sweep away the fifteen years of determined battle waged against the Soviet bureaucracy first by the Left Opposition and later by the movement for the Fourth International, a battle that was waged on a coherent theoretical and political basis that has been brilliantly confirmed by history. It is to insult the memory of thousands of militants – Trotskyists and others – who refused to capitulate, refused to become accomplices in the parodies of justice, and who paid with their lives for their loyalty to their principles, demonstrating courage and strength of character unparalleled in history.
To say that Leon Trotsky did not prove his capacity to stand up to personal trials is to forget that he continued his struggle against Stalinism in spite of the GPU’s assassination of his children, his secretaries, and his closest coworkers, to forget that he continued this opposition without faltering after a first assassination attempt by the GPU, knowing that at any moment he was likely to be assassinated by Stalin’s agents.
To claim, as Solzhenitsyn does, that Trotskyists in the labor camps behaved in a sectarian manner and were incapable of waging hunger strikes for prolonged periods in order to win a series of demands is to insult the memory of the heroes, who numbered more than a thousand, who launched an eighteen-week-long hunger strike around a five-point program defending the rights of all political prisoners just at the height of the Stalinist terror.
It is easy to understand why Solzhenitsyn, a determined opponent of revolutionary Marxism, would follow in Stalin’s footsteps in wanting to erase from history the decisive contribution Trotskyism made to the struggle against the dictatorship of the Soviet bureaucracy. That is only an attempt to break down any continuity between the October Revolution and the present political tasks posed in the Soviet Union. But the immoral methods that Solzhenitsyn has to use to try to prove his point once again illustrate the dead-end of any political outlook that claims to be based on absolute moral precepts, a dead-end that leads the advocates of such outlooks to trample on their own principles.
Solzhenitsyn tries to reduce all Soviet reality to the Stalinist and post-Stalinist terror. This reality is supposed to have resulted from a revolution that should never have taken place: “Russia was not ripe for revolution,” he writes.
But what was it ripe for? For tsarist barbarism? For eternal famine, poverty, and illiteracy? By challenging the legitimacy of the October Revolution – and the legitimacy of revolution in all relatively underdeveloped countries as well – Solzhenitsyn reveals yet another contradiction in moralistic politics. Should we weep only for the dead assassinated by terror? What about the deaths caused by inhuman socioeconomic regimes, the tens of millions who died of hunger during the great famines in India and prerevolutionary China? Is this any less deplorable? Are those deaths merely products of blind fate before which we must powerlessly bow?
The results of the October Revolution cannot be reduced to the misdeeds of the bureaucracy and its terrorist repression. There are other results of the October Revolution too: the transformation in just a few decades of a vast backward country into the world’s second industrial power, a country in which illiteracy has been eradicated, in which the number of doctors and the number of new books published (including translations!) is among the highest in the world, in which the infant mortality rate is lower than it is in Britain. Those who fight against arbitrary police repression in the USSR by claiming that it is the inevitable result of the October socialist revolution cannot help but overlook this other aspect of Soviet reality, which has exactly created the material basis for a flowering of real Soviet democracy if the power of the bureaucracy is overthrown.
Neither Marx, Lenin, nor Trotsky ever believed it would be possible to build a real socialist, classless society in one country alone, still less an economically underdeveloped country. The imperialist epoch is especially characterized by a twofold phenomenon: On the one hand the international domination of capital restricts and distorts the development of the backward countries and on the other hand revolutionary movements themselves tend more and more to become international. Solzhenitsyn regrets this and calls upon the Soviet leaders (!) to abandon “communist messianism,” something from which they have hardly suffered. But the slightest bit of moral feeling for the misery in the world today and the catastrophes that threaten humanity leads instead to the conclusion that it is necessary to redouble efforts to bring about the victory of the world socialist revolution, which would incidentally also contribute to the elimination of arbitrary police repression in the bureaucratized workers states, that is, to the victory of the political revolution in these countries.
Like the work of any great novelist, The Gulag Archipelago reflects not only a social situation as a whole, but also the thought of a particular social layer. Solzhenitsyn represents the wing of the opposition intelligentsia in the Soviet Union that has reacted to the crimes of Stalin by breaking with Lenin and Marx. The importance and breadth of this layer, even among Soviet youth, must not be underestimated. Its very existence constitutes yet another condemnation of the political regime that rules in the USSR.
Here is a society that calls itself socialist, that claims to have eradicated “antagonistic social contradictions,” that represents itself as the most united society in the world,” in which generations of intellectuals born after the revolution are developing in a manner ever more hostile to Marxism! This development can only be encouraged by an “ideological struggle” waged against it by the falsifiers of Marxism whose “arguments” in the end come down to suppression of writings, deportations, banishment, or internment of oppositionists in insane asylums!
But – an irony of history! – trenchant enemies of Stalinism like Solzhenitsyn and his friends, people who reject Leninism on the grounds that it was responsible for Stalinism, remain to a large extent prisoners of Stalinist ideology. In large measure they move in the universe of myths with which Stalin excused and justified his crimes.
These myths are reflected not only in the anti-Trotskyist slanders taken directly from the recipe book of the General Secretary. They are also reflected in the way this wing of the intellectual opposition approaches the problems of present-day Soviet society and their solution.
For there is yet a third theme in The Gulag Archipelago, one that is less obvious and explicit than the two we have been discussing, but is no less integral to Solzhenitsyn’s thought. That theme is the inability of the working class to manage the state and the economy. It must be stated clearly: This theme reflects an intellectual arrogance common to technocrats and bureaucrats.
It is in a passage devoted to the 1930 trial of the members of the so-called industrial party that this notion of Solzhenitsyn’s comes through most clearly. In this passage we read that it was logical for the technicians to try to impose discipline in the workplace! That it is logical that those who are capable of rationally organizing their activity” should stand at the head of society! That it is logical that politics should be partially determined by the exigencies of technology!
This whole technocratic credo, as well as the rejection of direct workers power and of soviet power that it implies, has been and remains one of the ideological bases of Stalinism. It is no accident that the same notion is found among Solzhenitsyn and his friends. What unites them with the bureaucracy is that both share a refusal to accept the possibility of workers exercising power; they share the same basic isolation from the life style, thought, aspirations, and ideals of the working class.
In this sense, after all is said and done, Solzhenitsyn remains an ideological prisoner of the bureaucracy, an advocate, at bottom, of an authoritarian political regime – but one without excessive repression. His is the voice of an enlightened authoritarianism that rejects soviet democracy as fundamentally evil and utopian. His political action is oriented not toward the masses but toward individual protest and “open letters” to the Kremlin.
Once one understands the social character of Solzhenitsyn’s work, one cannot but agree with the position taken both by the new Leninists in the USSR and by the revolutionary Marxists in the capitalist countries’: to support the movement for democratic rights in the USSR. One would have to completely misconstrue the socio-political relationship of forces in the Soviet Union to believe that currents like Solzhenitsyn’s, cut off from the living forces of the proletariat that represents the absolute majority of the active population, could seriously threaten the economic foundations of society and initiate a movement for the restoration of capitalism.
What encourages the rebirth of antiworker, antirationalist, anti-Marxist, and Slavophile tendencies is the repressive and conformist lead weight that bears down on Soviet society and fosters political and ideological cynicism among the masses.
The best antidote to these reactionary ideologies – and in the long run, the only effective antidote – is the rebirth of critical political consciousness among the masses, which will win them to Marxism. All those who encourage such a rebirth are working toward defending and strengthening the socioeconomic foundations of the USSR. All those who perpetuate the absence of public political debate and differentiation can only encourage obscurantism and hostility to Marxism, which appears as a state religion.
In the Soviet intellectual opposition there are many wings and tendencies, united only by the common struggle against Stalin’s crimes and for the real reconquest of civil rights that are formally guaranteed; that is, for an application of the Soviet constitution. The left wing of this opposition, of which Major General Pyotr Grigorenko is the most stirring symbol, is composed of surviving old Bolsheviks, militant Leninists who by their exemplary courage are defending and rehabilitating Leninism in the eyes of Soviet youth. What a windfall it is for the Kremlin to be able to denounce the antisocialist ideology of Solzhenitsyn (while of course not daring to publish his books in the USSR)! And how much more thankless is the bureaucracy’s job in suppressing oppositionists who claim allegiance to Marx and Lenin!
At a time when the international bourgeoisie wants to concentrate attention on The Gulag Archipelago in order to divert attention from its own crimes and to whip up hostility to communism, we must redouble our efforts to free Grigorenko, Yakhimovich, and their comrades from the torturers and to defend the rights not only of the Solzhenitsyns but also of the Marxist and Leninist oppositionists to freely speak, discuss, publish, and organize in the USSR!
Last updated on 1.6.2011