The Bolsheviks’ promise to build communism as a superior social system was accompanied by the discrediting of tsarist Russia, depicted as a bastion of capitalist flaws, and the idealization of communism, presented as a perfect system. Communists were envisioned as the agents of this transformative mission and were thus held to exceptionally high standards. “A communist is a high rank. […] Through honest service to the people and exemplary conduct in both public and private life, a communist should serve as a model for fostering and strengthening communist relations and observing communist morality,” declared Soviet leader Nikita Khrushchev at the XXII Congress of the CPSU in 1961. The Moral Code of the Builder of Communism [Моральний кодекс будівника комунізму], adopted at the same time, detailed the essence of “communist relations and morality.” Alongside universal ethical principles—such as collective responsibility for public property, a heightened sense of civic duty, and humane interpersonal relationships—the code also included highly politicized requirements. For example, individuals were expected to embody “simplicity and modesty in public and private life” and to be uncompromising in the face of “injustice, waste, dishonesty, careerism, and self-interest.” These standards placed particularly high demands on the leaders of communist construction. However, the realities of Soviet life revealed the futility of expecting absolute modesty, altruism, and selflessness from communists, especially among the nomenklatura. Many leaders succumbed to the temptation to exploit their power for personal gain, thereby exposing the hypocrisy of the system. Some members of the nomenklatura fully embodied Lord Acton’s famous observation: “Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.”
***
Abuse of power by the nomenklatura persisted throughout the Soviet period, varying in form, the stance of the central authorities, and the severity of punishment. During the late Stalinist period, such abuses—primarily theft of state property—were driven by an extremely challenging financial situation, coupled with a pervasive fear of exposure and punishment. The financial privileges afforded to the top nomenklatura were intended as incentives to safeguard state interests. However, harsh penalties for minor offenses failed to effectively deter potential wrongdoers. For instance, the director of the Brody Sugar Factory, identified as H., caused state losses exceeding 16,000 rubles but was sentenced to only one year of correctional labor without imprisonment and was later reinstated as a party member. In contrast, M., the director of a rural consumer society in Donetske, Kharkiv oblast, illegally spent 5,655 rubles. Despite repaying nearly half the amount, he served a four-year prison sentence and was permanently expelled from the party. Such ruthlessness served as a stark reminder to the nomenklatura of the conditionally permissible boundaries of their actions.
Under Nikita Khrushchev, the softening of the political regime did not curb abuses of power by high-ranking officials; in fact, such activities intensified. The fear of losing one’s life, prevalent during Stalin’s reign, transformed into a fear of losing the status and privileges tied to official positions. As historian James Heinzen notes, from the late Stalinist period onward, many officials, feeling increasingly secure after the cessation of mass purges, acted as though they were above the law, with the tacit approval of the party. Criminal charges against communists became rarer, and anti-corruption campaigns lost their vigor. Patron-client networks—hierarchical groups of managers and subordinates led by influential patrons—often provided protection or mitigated punishments for offenders. In an effort to combat these abuses, the Presidium of the USSR Supreme Soviet issued a decree on February 20, 1962, titled “On Strengthening Criminal Liability for Bribery,” which even permitted the death penalty for accepting or extorting bribes.
During the Brezhnev era, nomenklatura offenders felt even less threatened, as the central authorities prioritized stability over enforcing accountability. A prominent figure of this period in Ukraine was Volodymyr Shcherbytskyi, who led the Central Committee of the Communist Party of Ukraine from 1972 to 1989. Vitalii Masol, a seasoned manager and later head of the Council of Ministers of the Ukrainian SSR, reflected on Shcherbytskyi’s approach to violations: “In the republic, especially during Shcherbytskyi’s early years as First Secretary, abuses by senior officials and the misuse of their positions for personal gain were strictly suppressed. Individuals who received apartments illegally, purchased scarce goods out of turn, or exhibited unworthy behavior were decisively removed from their positions and expelled from the party. For years, senior executives were discouraged from even buying cars for personal use. Obtaining a garden plot or building a summer house was considered a serious offense incompatible with leadership roles.” Other high-ranking officials confirmed his uncompromising stance on abuses. However, the rhetoric often failed to translate into consistent action.
Shcherbytskyi maintained close oversight of the nomenklatura’s adherence to “party and state discipline.” In 1974, he noted that “… A significant number of senior officials and party, economic, and Soviet [bodies] had to be dismissed for various transgressions,” but he also advocated reconsidering the reinstatement of dismissed individuals if they demonstrated impeccable future behavior. By the late 1970s, nearly 850 individuals were expelled from the party annually for abuses of office, negligence, and violations of socialist legality. An additional 1,650 were dismissed for breaches of party, state, and labor discipline, while nearly 2,100 were expelled for embezzlement, bribery, and other crimes. While not all of these individuals were members of the nomenklatura (e. g. speculators), the reasons for party expulsions suggest that many offenders belonged to this elite group.
By the early 1980s, oversight bodies held 4,500–5,000 individuals accountable each year for abuses of office, bureaucratic inefficiency, and administrative delays. In 1984, Shcherbytskyi lamented that “the number of reports about misconduct by party members in leadership positions—misusing their roles for personal gain, improving their living conditions, building summer houses, garages, purchasing cars, and acquiring scarce goods—has practically not decreased.”
The Perestroika reforms aimed to address mismanagement, increase accountability, and improve discipline by curbing abuses of power. The authorities sought to counter resistance to Perestroika within the party-state apparatus by broadening channels for reporting abuses. However, the publication of incriminating evidence in the media rarely resulted in meaningful punishment. On the contrary, the nomenklatura exploited the reforms and the ensuing chaos, as well as the introduction of joint ventures with foreigners and cooperatives, to enrich themselves almost legally at the state’s expense. In 1989, investigations conducted with the involvement of the People’s Control Committee uncovered nearly 11,000 cases of theft involving abuse of office, 1,382 instances of large-scale theft, and 1,049 cases of bribery.
***
Between 1945 and 1991, the nomenklatura enjoyed a privileged legal status. It was virtually impossible to advance in one’s career without membership in the Communist Party, which conferred significant advantages. Chief among these was the protection afforded by a party membership card, shielding the nomenklatura from the full jurisdiction of the law. While the Constitutions of the Ukrainian SSR of 1937 (Article 103) and 1978 (Article 32) formally proclaimed the equality of all citizens before the law, irrespective of position or profession, the status of the nomenklatura and communists was largely determined by the CPSU Charter. Article 12 of the 1952 CPSU Charter stipulated that if a party member committed “offenses punishable by law,” they would be expelled from the CPSU, with administrative and judicial authorities being notified. However, the same article in the 1961 Charter strengthened the immunity of communists by specifying that expulsion from the party and subsequent prosecution were required only for “offenses punishable by criminal procedure.” This phrasing effectively barred the prosecution of a communist’s misconduct unless they had first been expelled from the party.
Until 1962, the nomenklatura adeptly exploited the 1938 government-party decree, which required the arrest of communists or party membership candidates to be coordinated with local party bodies. The 1962 Resolution of the Presidium of the CPSU Central Committee, titled “On Eliminating Errors and Shortcomings in the Practice of Bringing Communists Who Committed Crimes to Responsibility,” proclaimed that “party members have no advantages or privileges over other workers, and they should bear double responsibility for offenses punishable by criminal law — to the party and to the court.” The resolution emphasized that “a communist who has committed a crime must be held accountable under the law on an equal footing with other citizens.” Nevertheless, it simultaneously mandated that judicial and investigative authorities, when initiating a criminal case against a communist, “inform the relevant party committee and provide it with the necessary materials to determine the party affiliation of the person who committed the crime.”
The nomenklatura developed a culture of corporate solidarity, which, despite being divided into competing clans, remained united in protecting its collective interests. This solidarity often resulted in delaying the expulsion of a suspected communist from the party or exerting pressure on law enforcement agencies. The nomenklatura was notorious for not abandoning its members, even those who had lost their positions due to misconduct. Support—albeit limited—was extended even to disgraced individuals, who were often reassigned to equivalent or lower positions in different regions.
For example, the Central Committee of the Communist Party of Ukraine reported that in 1981–1982, 53 deputies of local councils of people’s deputies committed crimes. However, the councils refused to approve legal action against 12 of them. Among these were two heads of collective farms in the Chernihiv region, who, as members of village councils, avoided prosecution for falsifying records of sown areas.
***
Party control commissions, operating under the Central Committee, as well as oblast, city, and district committees of the Communist Party of Ukraine, were tasked with maintaining discipline. These commissions monitored communists’ adherence to the CPSU Charter, their implementation of the party program, and even their conduct in private life. Offenses such as drunkenness, hooliganism, abuse, theft, adultery, embezzlement of state property, and similar behaviors could prompt a review of a communist’s actions. At commission meetings, the circumstances of the offense were examined, its severity assessed, and appropriate punishment determined. Sanctions could include a warning [“постановка на вид”, “putting on display”], a reprimand (or severe reprimand), or a severe reprimand recorded in the member’s party record card (A CPSU member’s record card served as their party passport, documenting information such as education, work history, party membership, disciplinary actions, and more.) According to the 1961 CPSU Charter, “the highest measure of party punishment is expulsion from the party.” Oleksandr Liashko, then the first secretary of the Kramatorsk City Committee of the Communist Party of Ukraine, who served as a party prosecutor at a Central Committee meeting in the early 1950s, described such proceedings as “the last instance where a person’s party membership was decided. And back then, it was a matter of life or death.”
In addition to party control commissions, committees of people’s (Soviet) control monitored legal compliance on behalf of the state. Every ministry and agency also had sectoral control and audit commissions. However, agencies tasked with combating crime—such as the police, prosecutors, courts, and the KGB—often fell short of their duties. Their dependence on party committees rendered them unable to challenge the party immunity enjoyed by offenders. Monitoring the behavior of a first secretary of a district party committee, for example, required authorization from the corresponding oblast party committee. Moreover, law enforcement officials themselves were frequently entangled in corrupt activities, including illegal real estate dealings and bribery, often forming ties with regional or local elites.
Despite the vast network of oversight bodies and the frequency of inspections, abuses by high-ranking officials remained a persistent concern for the leadership. While inspection and control methods were refined, so too were fraudulent schemes, deceptive practices, and methods for covering up wrongdoing. Olena Perminova, head of the Kyiv City Party Committee, remarked in 1969: “There is a significant amount of material related to the embezzlement of state property, but every time I handle such a case, the financial documents are always in order. Nowadays, socialist property is being plundered so systematically that they don’t even leave any documentation behind.” By 1978, Volodymyr Shcherbytskyi voiced his concern that “the number of violations, particularly breaches of party-state discipline, is not decreasing. In fact, it is increasing in several oblasts. […] From 1976 to 1978 alone, comrades, we held more than 12,000 senior officials accountable to the party. Nearly 2,000 of them were expelled from the party, including 250 leading oblast officials and almost 2,400 officials from city party organizations.”
***
The most common and straightforward form of power abuse involved the use of company cars. Under the pretext of operational needs or ensuring effective leadership, high-ranking officials would assign themselves a company car for personal use, while its maintenance was funded by public resources.
A car symbolized the high status of its owner or user; it was a prestigious object, signifying that the driver or passenger belonged to the upper echelons of Soviet society. In his novel Cathedral [Собор], Oles Honchar captures this status symbolism through the musings of the careerist Volodka Loboda:
“If only managers drove like this with the people more often, communicated with them in close quarters, in the heat, where no one knows you, and you seem to know everyone—sitting down invisibly and studying their moods, their needs. Not everyone is capable of traveling like this with the workers in a crowded bus, putting their ribs to the test when they have other options. Being touched by his own generosity, Loboda promised himself that even when he was working in the main, tall building, where your footsteps fade into the carpets and there is a whole battery of phones on the table, he would not call a car in the morning but would walk to work so that they would not say that Volodko Loboda had become proud after being hired…”
The unreliability of Soviet cars and the difficulty of obtaining service made their maintenance significantly more expensive. As early as 1948, the USSR’s party and government sought to curb the use of official vehicles for personal purposes. They did so by limiting the number of cars available to heads of ministries, departments, oblast committee first secretaries, and chairmen of oblast executive committees. This struggle for the rational use of official vehicles remained a constant concern for the government and the party. The Central Committee of the Communist Party of Ukraine and the Council of Ministers of the Ukrainian SSR issued a resolution on November 17, 1959, titled “On the Procedure for the Use of Passenger Cars.” This resolution introduced restrictions on the number of official vehicles and their maintenance budgets. Surplus cars—approximately 60%—were to be transferred to the Ministry of Motor Transport and Highways of the Ukrainian SSR, as well as to garages and public motor depots. However, six months after the resolution’s implementation, 985 cars remained untransferred, including 378 in the Stalino (renamed Donetsk in 1961) oblast alone. To retain these vehicles for personal use, managers often re-registered standard cars as “special vehicles” (which were exempt from transfer), often by adding superficial markings to support the classification. As a result, the number of “special vehicles” surged. For example, in the Kharkiv oblast, the Kharkiv State Farm increased the number of such vehicles from the originally approved 60 to 492 units. Similarly, in Kherson, the number rose from 29 to 79, and in the Lviv oblast, from 93 to 120. Abuses were rampant—such as the head of the Zhytomyr Oblast Health Department using a GAZ-12 car, owned by the Zhytomyr Oblast Hospital, to go hunting. Humor and satire were employed to combat such misconduct, fostering an atmosphere of public disapproval.
Nevertheless, neither budgetary restrictions on maintaining excess official vehicles, outright bans on personal use, nor reprimands and fines could overcome the nomenklatura’s relentless pursuit of comfortable travel at public expense. In 1978, Volodymyr Shcherbytskyi, then First Secretary of the Communist Party of Ukraine, rebuked Viktor Lisitsyn, the head of the Voroshylovhrad Oblast Executive Committee, for such abuse:
“What need, for example, do you, com. Lisitsyn, have to go on vacation from Voroshilovgrad to Crimea in a company car? Who do you think you are? If you know the resolution of the Central Committee and the Council of Ministers, you must know that you cannot travel more than 100 kilometers without permission from the Council of Ministers. […] This is a loss of modesty, a loss of a sense of responsibility.”
Yet, even in the 1980s, little had changed. In 1981, the Ukrainian Union of Consumer Cooperative Organizations maintained 3,335 official cars instead of the 1,913 permitted, providing comfortable transportation not only for official purposes but also for private use.
***
Another widespread form of abuse involved real estate. In the USSR, where the state could not meet the housing demands of its population and private construction was hindered by shortages of building materials, an apartment or private house—particularly in the postwar period—represented one of the most valuable material assets. The intense demand for housing often fueled corruption. The acute social tension surrounding the housing crisis drew significant public attention to the allocation of state-owned housing.
Members of the nomenklatura who were provided with official housing were insulated from the hardships of living in barracks, basements, or decrepit buildings. However, they were acutely aware of the stakes involved, as they controlled the distribution of public housing. The fate of many ordinary citizens depended on their decisions. Housing waiting lists, managed by executive committees, were often deliberately manipulated to allow for corruption. These manipulations—such as violating priority rules, unjustifiably improving living conditions for select individuals, assisting relatives, or lavishly renovating apartments at public expense—provoked public outrage. The frustration was a natural response to prolonged waits and frequent abuses. During the Brezhnev era, housing issues dominated written appeals to the Central Committee of the Communist Party of Ukraine, accounting for approximately 25-35% of all complaints. These often cited unfair housing distribution, requests for improved living conditions, or assistance with individual construction.
Public sensitivity to such abuses often resulted in harsher consequences for offenders. For instance, in one case, the director of the Vinnytsia Brickworks, identified as A., constructed a two-story house for 8,000 rubles—far below the market value of 27,000 to 30,000 rubles—and moved his relatives into it while continuing to live in a communal apartment. In 1949, the oblast committee expelled him from the party and dismissed him from his position. However, six months later, he was reinstated in the party with a severe reprimand, having pledged to reform his behavior. There is reason to believe that this leniency was due to the influence of higher officials, such as the head of the Main Brick Department of the Ministry of Construction Materials Industry of the USSR. Both A.’s house and those of the heads of the Vynohradiv and Svaliava district executive committees, M. and K., as well as the oblast prosecutor, Ch., which had been built through abuse of power in Transcarpathia, were confiscated and transferred to state ownership in 1958. Despite regulations prioritizing party officials for housing, the apartment of the first secretary of the Poltava oblast committee, M., who relocated to Moscow following a promotion in 1988, was illegally reassigned to his son.
Starting in the 1950s, the fashion for summer cottages, or dachas, gained popularity across the country. Initially intended as garden plots for growing vegetables, these properties often evolved into secondary residences, complete with houses that could be rented or sold. Such practices, which violated the original purpose of the plots, enabled personal enrichment and led the Soviet government to temporarily ban the allocation of plots for dacha construction in 1960.
High-ranking officials, with access to resources and labor, were able to build dachas quickly. Abuses related to dacha construction became commonplace. By the late 1960s, members of the Donetsk oblast committee of the Communist Party of Ukraine expressed alarm that “instead of simple houses, two-story ‘booths,’ fences, reinforced concrete basements, pipes, trolleys, 60-ton tanks, illegal land seizures, and fruit sales at the market began to appear on some plots—this was a clear manifestation of self-interest that corrupted the souls of unstable individuals, driving them toward lawlessness, crime, and, most notably, such behavior was evident among the leadership.” The dacha became a status symbol, serving as an additional piece of real estate, which provoked public resentment amid the ongoing housing crisis.
In one egregious case in the late 1960s, the management of the Chernihiv worsted and cloth mill, led by its director, built six dachas at enterprise expense. Although each house cost 400 rubles, the officials paid just 50 rubles apiece. Similarly, in the early 1980s, the general director of the Kharkiv Production Association “FED” abusively constructed a 100-square-meter dacha equipped with heating, a sauna, a bathroom, a built-in garage, and a workshop on a garden plot. Despite the scale of this misuse, the 75-year-old director was merely reprimanded and allowed to retire. By the early 1980s, such practices were rampant: 820 party leaders, 1,700 Soviet officials, 638 trade union members, and 8,210 economic leaders across Ukraine were implicated in the illegal construction of dachas.
***
Abuse of office also manifested as corruption—engaging in official actions or inaction for personal gain at the expense of the state. The primary tool of corruption was the administrative coercion of subordinates. Refusal to comply with the whims of a superior often led to dismissal, a consequence that posed significant challenges for mid-ranking nomenklatura officials in securing future employment. Financial, economic, medical, or educational institutions at the regional or local level faced significant constraints in resisting administrative pressure from party committees.
For instance, bank employees in the Stalino oblast could not refuse the prosecutor of Mariupol, T., the head of the Mariupol city department of the Ministry of Internal Affairs, B., or the first secretary of the Yenakiyevo city committee of the CP(b)U, R., in their attempts to conduct illegal currency exchanges during the 1947 monetary reform. Similarly, the head of a bank branch in Kadiyivka, Donetsk Oblast, in the early 1970s understood that rejecting orders for illegal transfers authorized by the city’s party committee would lead to immediate dismissal. Subordinates of the head of the N department were coerced into obtaining vacation vouchers to Crimea, not only for their superiors but also for their relatives and friends. The indulgence in illegal trips to resorts in a private soft carriage by the head of the railroad and his family in the early 1970s was a predictable response from his subordinates, who were desperate to keep their jobs. It is easy to imagine the repercussions for “officially dependent individuals” had they dared to refuse to list the deputy minister as a co-author of their scientific works. Unsurprisingly, in 1980, the deputy chief of police in Kharkiv, N., was reportedly not acting selflessly when assisting private individuals in the illegal sale of a large shipment of tangerines imported from the Georgian SSR. This operation even involved his subordinate, the head of the Kharkiv city department for combating the theft of socialist property, D.
***
A common and convenient form of abuse of office for personal pleasure was the organization of lavish banquets accompanying meetings, gatherings, conferences, and delegation exchanges. What was traditionally considered an element of hospitality—modest tea parties and informal socializing—frequently escalated into extravagant feasts, often featuring concerts. These banquets were not only illegally financed by subordinate organizations or through budget manipulation but also tarnished the reputation of officials, who indulged in excess and compromised their integrity in relations with subordinates. Party leaders were expected to maintain professional distance, independence, and critical judgment, yet collective drinking at these events often blurred those boundaries. For instance, despite clear warnings against such behavior, a banquet was held in 1950 at the oblast philharmonic to celebrate the presentation of a deputy certificate to the first secretary of the Drohobych oblast committee, O. During this event, the chairman of the regional council of trade unions, O., became “so inebriated that he had to be carried to a car because he could no longer walk.” Similarly, in March 1958, the Department of Agriculture in the Stanislav (now Ivano-Frankivsk) region spent 14,700 rubles—6,300 of which went toward alcohol—on a banquet funded from money earmarked for a meeting of agricultural leaders.
Although the Presidium of the Central Committee of the Communist Party of Ukraine issued a directive in 1958 to limit expenses for business event participants, the temptation to enjoy state or collective farm resources often proved irresistible. For example, under the pretense of designing visual materials for the celebration of the 50th anniversary of the October Revolution in 1967, the first secretary of the Shpolyan district party committee in the Cherkasy oblast, S., collected 4,500 rubles from collective farms but used the funds to host a feast for district party activists. By 1972, in the Zakarpattia oblast, 84 heads of enterprises, organizations, institutions, and collective farms faced party condemnation for illegal spending on meetings, receptions, and banquets. They were collectively required to repay nearly 37,000 rubles in compensation. In 1980, the CPSU Central Committee explicitly prohibited “collective drinking” in workplaces and the public celebration of managers’ anniversaries. That same year, P., the deputy director of the Nikopol Bolshevik plant in the Dnipropetrovsk oblast, was expelled from the party and dismissed for organizing collective drinking.
***
A relatively common form of abuse involved the unjustified awarding of bonuses to high-ranking officials, often authorized by their subordinates or by independent organizations. In such instances, the recipients were generally deemed guilty only of tacitly accepting the bonuses, as the illegal decisions were made without their explicit involvement. This practice was typically treated as a minor offense. For example, in 1949, the director of the Vinnytsia Brickworks, A., allocated 44% of the director’s fund for bonuses to himself and the chief accountant, B., while allocating only 26% to technical staff—well below the standard 50%. During the late 1960s, the Ministry of Geology of the Ukrainian SSR unjustifiably distributed bonuses totaling 20,000 rubles. By 1984, the republic had illegally spent 3.5 million rubles on salaries and bonuses.
An audit conducted between 1985 and 1987 revealed significant violations, with over 245,000 rubles in unjustified payments identified across Ukraine. This included 45,000 rubles in Kyiv, more than 24,000 in Donetsk, and nearly 20,000 in the Zaporizhzhia and Kirovohrad oblasts. In one notable case, the unjustified receipt of a bonus led to the dismissal of the first secretary of the Lutsk city committee, K., following a severe reprimand and a formal record in his file. Further irregularities uncovered in the Crimean oblast revealed that state insurance agencies were granting bonuses to police officers. In 1985, the executive committee of the Zhdanov (now Mariupol) city council in Donetsk oblast awarded 230 rubles to the head of the city health department, P., and the head of the city trade department, K., for meeting a plan to procure and ship secondary raw materials. These unjustified bonuses were often deliberate acts of corruption, serving as tokens of gratitude to the nomenklatura for lobbying, favoritism, or other forms of support. Illegally obtained bonuses were subject to repayment, and the unprincipled behavior of the recipients was publicly scrutinized and condemned at party meetings.
***
In addressing the causes of unlawful actions committed by high-ranking officials in the 1940s and 1960s, the authorities often attributed them to the lingering influence of pre-revolutionary capitalist mentalities among certain managers. This explanation lost credibility over time, as by the 1970s and 1980s, the leadership consisted largely of individuals born and fully socialized within the Soviet Union, supposedly free from the flaws of other, “imperfect” societies. Similarly unconvincing were claims that these issues stemmed from shortcomings in personnel management, as the violations were far from isolated incidents.
A defining feature of the Soviet era was the politically motivated selective enforcement of legislation. The pursuit of utopian goals necessitated a unique loyalty among the nomenklatura. This loyalty was fostered through privileges and exemptions, particularly the elevated legal status granted to high-ranking officials by virtue of their Communist Party membership. This political system rendered the nomenklatura largely unaccountable to ordinary citizens, and only egregiously unethical misconduct or blatantly demonstrative actions risked jeopardizing their positions or privileges. Abuses of power were pervasive in Ukraine, both horizontally and vertically, infiltrating all levels and branches of government, including law enforcement. Nevertheless, it would be an overstatement to paint all nomenklatura members as violators. While many exploited their positions to enhance their living conditions—such as vacationing in company cars, forging advantageous connections in medicine, education, and trade, or indulging at public expense—these aspirations mirrored the desires of most Soviet citizens. Many people yearned for a comfortable life in the present, rather than waiting for the promised arrival of communism. Instead of fostering a genuine culture of legality, high-ranking officials perpetuated a utilitarian ethos, often setting a precedent for disregarding both legal and ethical norms.
List of sources and references:
[1] XXII Congress of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union, October 11–31, 1961. Stenographic Report. Moscow: Gospolitizdat, 1962. Vol. 1, 255.
[2] XXII Congress of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union, October 11–31, 1961. Stenographic Report. Moscow: Gospolitizdat, 1962. Vol. 3, 353.
[3] Central State Archive of Public Associations and Ukrainian Studies (hereinafter – ЦДАГОУ). Fund 1, Inventory 8, Case 1840, Sheets 30–31.
[4] Heinzen, James. “Corruption among Officials and Anticorruption Drives in the USSR, 1945–1964.” In Russian Bureaucracy and the State: Officialdom from Alexander III to Vladimir Putin, edited by Don K. Rowney and Eugene Huskey, 183. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2009.
[5] Masol, V. A. The Missed Opportunity [Упущенный шанс]. Kyiv, 1993. 18–19.
[6] Vrublevskyi, V. K. Volodymyr Shcherbytsky: Truth and Fiction: Notes of an Assistant: Memoirs, Documents, Rumors, Legends, Facts [Владимир Щербицкий: Правда и вымыслы: Записки помощника: Воспоминания, документы, слухи, легенды, факты]. Kyiv: Dovira, 1993. 112; Shevchenko, V. S. My Years, My Wealth: Reflections, Thoughts, Answers [Мої літа, моє багатство: Спогади, роздуми, відповіді]. Kyiv: Prosviata, 2005. 342.
[7] ЦДАГОУ, Fund 1, Inventory 2, Case 115, Sheets 138–139.
[8] Ibid, Cade 799, Sheet 11.
[9] Ibid, Sheet 12.
[10] Ibid.
[11] Ibid, Inventory 11, Case 2040, Sheet 13.
[12] XXII Congress of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union, October 11–31, 1961. Stenographic Report. Moscow: Gosizdat, 1962. Vol. 3, 342.
[13] Khlevniuk, O. V., Prozumenshchykov, M. Y., Vasyliev, V. Y., Horlytskyi, I., Zhukova, T. Y., Kondrashin, V. V., Kosheleva, L. P., Podkur, R. A., Sheveleva, E. V., eds. N. S. Khrushchev’s Regional Policy: The Central Committee of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union and Local Party Committees, 1953–1964 [Региональная политика Н.С.Хрущева. ЦК КПСС и местные партийные комитеты 1953–1964 гг]. Moscow: Russian Political Encyclopedia, 2009. 209–210.
[14] ЦДАГОУ, Fund 1, Inventory 11, Case 720, Sheet 7.
[15] XXII Congress of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union, October 11–31, 1961. Stenographic Report. Moscow: Gosizdat, 1962. Vol. 3, 342.
[16] Liashko, A. P. The Burden of Memory: Trilogy: Memoirs [Груз памяти: Трилогия: Воспоминания]. Kyiv: Delova Ukraina, 1997. Vol. II: The Path to the Nomenklatura [Путь в номенклатуру], 206.
[17] ЦДАГОУ, Fund 1, Inventory 31, Case 3816, Sheet 149.
[18] Ibid, Inventory 2, Case 450, Sheets 14–15.
[19] Honchar, O. The Cathedral [Собор]. New York: Bound Brook, 1968. 64–65.
[20] ЦДАГОУ, Fund 1, Inventory 31, Case 1588, Sheet 153.
[21] Ibid, Sheets 153–154.
[22] Ibid, Inventory 2, Case 450, Sheet 17.
[23] Zhuravliov, Ya. “The Bells of Alarm: Letters from Workers to Government Authorities. [‘Дзвони тривоги’: листи трудящих в органи влади]” In Ukrainian Society in the 1960s–1980s: Historical Essays [Українське суспільство в 1960–1980-х рр. Історичні нариси], edited by Viktor Danilenko, 415–416. Kyiv: Institute of History of Ukraine, National Academy of Sciences of Ukraine, 2022.
[24] ЦДАГОУ, Fund 1, Inventory 24, Case 36, Sheets 52, 58–59.
[25] Ibid, Inventory 2, Case 1077, Sheet 237.
[26] Ibid, Inventory 31, Case 3816, Sheet 44–46.
[27] Ibid, Inventory 2, Case 663, Sheet 33.
[28] Ibid.
[29] History of the Civil Service in Ukraine: 5 Volumes [Історія державної служби в Україні: у 5 т.]. Edited by T. V. Motrenko, V. A. Smolii, and S. V. Kulychitskyi. Kyiv: Nika-Center, 2009. Vol. 5: Documents and Materials. Book 1. 1914–1991, compiled by H. V. Boryak (lead compiler), L. Y. Demchenko, R. B. Vorobei, 633–634.
[30] ЦДАГОУ, Fund 1, Inventory 10, Case 3559, Sheet 19.
[31] Ibid, Inventory 24, Case 36, Sheet 372.
[32] Ibid, Inventory 25, Case 7, Sheets 2–5.
[33] Ibid, Inventory 10, Case 1348, Sheet 2.
[34] Ibid, Case 3847, Sheet 13.
[35] Ibid, Inventory 32, Case 2218, Sheet 72.
[36] Ibid, Inventory 11, Case 1784, Sheet 3.
[37] Ibid, Sheet 2.
Questions for Discussion:
- Despite the supreme authority’s efforts to promote virtuous behavior among the nomenklatura, why did abuses of power by officials continue despite decrees, resolutions, and laws?
- In your opinion, which type of abuse of power harms society the most? Justify your answer.
- Why was exclusion from the ranks of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union considered as severe a punishment as criminal responsibility for a nomenklatura member?
- What factors influenced the determination of the punishment for a nomenklatura member?
- How did high-ranking officials manage to avoid punishment for abuses of power?
- In your opinion, did the supreme authority worry more about the direct economic losses or the reputational damage caused by abuses of power? Justify your answer.
Some of the names of individuals involved in these cases have been anonymized by the author.
The cover photo is taken from the TV segment “Party Activists’ Meeting” (Urban Media Archive)
Translation into English: Yuliia Kulish
