Used by the Bolsheviks ever since the October Revolution and the Civil War, graphic or militant (political) satire was one of the main methods of castigating the enemy of the people in communist systems. In a territory as vast as it was backward in terms of modern civilizational markers, visual propaganda was the only way to convey messages to a population marked by illiteracy and severe social predicaments. In Romania, like elsewhere in the USSR, satirical propaganda had its own publication: Urzica (“The Nettle”).
Urzica, Issue 6/1954
From Krokodil to Urzica: the transfer of themes and ideologies
Founded in 1922, Krokodil was a magazine that responded to the need to centralize and concentrate the satirical propaganda efforts of the Soviet regime. At a time when the population was struggling with shortages across the board, the publication thrived, enjoying significant financial resources. As a result, Krokodil quickly became the main thematic standard in terms of how to represent the various categories of ideological enemies of the communist regime, lumped together generically under the term “class enemy”.
Excerpt from Krokodil, Urzica, Issue 18/1960
An important element of the communization process in Romania was the progressive takeover of the Soviet model of agitation and visual propaganda by the newly established authorities. As a result, just as in other countries in the Eastern bloc, the authorities decided to set up a so-called “satire and humor” publication, patterned on the Krokodil magazine. The new magazine was called Urzica, and the first issue appeared on February 1, 1949.
Excerpt from Krokodil, Urzica, Issue 11/1961
During the first decade and a half, Urzica addressed topics divided into two categories: political propaganda and criticism of social morals. The two were inherently intertwined, serving the regime’s efforts to impose social control by combating those perceived as ideological enemies, as well as by creating and maintaining artificial conflicts aimed at reducing cohesion at society level.
As one of the goals of visual propaganda, combating the class enemy was directed, according to communist ideology, against individuals from three social backgrounds: rural, urban and foreign.
“The village rakes”: the rascal and the innkeeper
According to the census conducted on January 25, 1948, the population of the Romanian People's Republic, at the time totaling 15,872,624 inhabitants, was divided as follows in terms of dwelling: 23.4% in urban areas and 76.6% in rural areas. The large share of the population inhabiting rural areas, compared to urban centers, also entailed a greater focus of the regime's efforts against the class enemy in this area.
Urzica, Issue 6/1955
The main category of ideological enemy in the village world was the so-called “chiabur” (the equivalent of the Soviet kulak), a euphemism which, more often than not, described some of the most home-making members of the community.
Urzica, Issue 13/1949
Along with them, another "target" of the regime was the small entrepreneurs, innkeepers and millers who, by the nature of the activities undertaken, accumulated capital and were fierce opponents of any attempt of the communist state to interfere in the life of the community.
“Vestiges of a rotten world”: the bourgeoisie and the landed nobility
According to communist authorities, the presence of the class enemy in cities was a palpable and dangerous reality, which is why it had to be fought by all means possible. Thus, the bourgeoisie, which the communists claimed was allied with the landlords, had to be visually represented as a social category that was as obsolete as it was hostile towards the “new social pretenses” that the regime's propaganda presented as the only solution to raising the living standards of the “working class”.
Urzica, Issue 4/1954
In order to achieve these goals, the authorities resorted to taking over Soviet templates of representation, already tested at length in the past, and merely adapting them to the social and political realities on the grounds.
“American imperialists, may your nukes drop into the ocean”: exponents of Western capitalism
Nazi Germany’s June 1941 attack on the Soviet Union represented a trauma for tens or even hundreds of millions of people, one of them Joseph Stalin himself. Although victorious in the war, with the desperate help of his Western allies, the dictator developed a fixation about an impending war between the communist bloc and the bulk of the democratic powers which, since 1949, had joined forces in NATO.
Urzica, Issue 98/1953
Thus, Soviet propaganda, especially its visual representations, strove to depict Western leaders as genuine monsters, physically deformed and driven only by the desire for enrichment and colonial subjugation of underdeveloped or developing countries.
Urzica, Issue 22/1949
Josip Tito's attempt to free Yugoslavia from Stalin's influence and to strengthen its ties with the Western powers is similarly represented.
Propaganda cartoonists were both instruments and victims of the communist regime
To combat the class enemy through the specific means of visual propaganda, the communist regime invested significant funds at a time marked by the plundering of all categories of the country's resources by the Soviets and the accelerated degradation of the population's living standards. Founded as a “party task” by playwright Aurel Baranga, Urzica employed major visual artists of the interwar period, such as Iosif Iser, Aurel Jiquidi, Ary Murnu, Nell Cobar, Iosif Ross, Eugen Taru and Jules Perahim, ever since its first issues. Furthermore, Urzica represented a springboard for the young generation of the '50s: Ligia Macovei, Ion Popescu Gopo, Tia Peltz, Matei (“Matty”) Aslan and Albert Poch, to name just a few, authored satirical works for the magazine.
Urzica, Issue 5/1954
Well-established fine artists or just talented young people in search of recognition, they all profited from the “generosity” of the regime, ridiculing whole social categories the authorities had decided were to be eliminated. It is unclear how many of those artists realized that behind every “kulak” and “bourgeois” label they attached were hundreds of thousands of lives and destinies that were irreparably shattered or torn.
Urzica, Issue 42/1950
Urzica was undoubtedly a tool of the communist regime, but it is hard to ascertain the extent to which those who engaged in the effort to satirize the enemy did so out of loyalty for the cause, opportunism, or even fear. It is worth noting that, while half of the visual artists were collaborators of the Securitate (see, for instance, the case of Albert Poch, who was forced in the 60s to become an informant, but continued to provide information until December 1989, long after his life was no longer at risk), the other half were closely surveilled.