«bourgeois filth»: why Soviet censorship banned Kornei Chukovsky's "The Mуха-Цокотуха”

One of the most popular children's poems today, which every child knows by heart, was under suspicion from Soviet officials and educators at the moment of its birth. Kornei Chukovsky's "The Mуха-Цокотуха," written in 1923, did not just fail to reach readers immediately — it was officially banned by censorship and subjected to destructive criticism from the highest authorities. Why did such an innocent story about a fly finding money and throwing a party provoke such anger in the party circles? And how did this small masterpiece survive in the face of ideological pressure?

The first publication and an immediate scandal

In 1923, Kornei Chukovsky first read his new story to friends and acquaintances. The audience was delighted: rhythmic lines, vivid images, catchy rhymes — it seemed that this was the perfect reading for babies. However, the first attempt to publish "The Mуха-Цокотуха" encountered an insurmountable obstacle. The Provincial Department of Literature and Publishing (Gublit), performing the functions of censorship, categorically refused to grant permission for publication. In Chukovsky's diary, there is a record of a conversation with a Gublit employee, Lyudmila Bystraya, who explained to the writer that the illustrations to the story were "improper": the mosquito is standing too close to the fly, they "flirt." "As if there is a child so corrupt that the proximity of the fly to the mosquito would provoke licentious thoughts," Chukovsky wrote with bitterness. But this was just the beginning.

In 1924, the story was finally published — but under the changed title "Mukhina's Wedding" and with cuts. However, this version did not give peace to the ideological guardians either. The real campaign against "The Mуха-Цокотуха" unfolded later, and it involved not ordinary censors, but the most influential figures in Soviet pedagogy and politics.

The attack of Khrushchev: "chukovskism" as an ideological enemy

The main accuser of Kornei Chukovsky was Nadezhda Konstantinovna Khrushchev, the widow of Lenin. She was not just the wife of the leader — she stood at the origins of the Soviet system of public education and upbringing. And her opinion on children's books had enormous weight. Khrushchev descended on Chukovsky with sharp criticism, calling his stories "nonsense" and "disrespect to the child." She claimed that Chukovsky's works were not just useless, but harmful because they "do not reflect Soviet life."

Even a special term emerged among party critics and editors — "chukovskism." This word denoted all the writer's creativity that was considered alien to the proletarian ideology. Khrushchev and her allies blamed Chukovsky that "The Mуха-Цокотуха" "undermines children's faith in the triumph of the collective," it expresses "sympathy for kulak ideology," it glorifies "petty bourgeoisie and kulak accumulation." It seems that where can one find kulaks in a children's story about a fly and a mosquito? However, Soviet educators were able to read between the lines even what was never there.

"Bourgeois" birthdays and suspicious weddings

One of the most absurd points of the accusation was the word "birthday." The deputy head of Gublit, Lyudmila Bystraya, explained to Chukovsky that birthdays were a "bourgeois celebration." In the new Soviet society, where the church was separated from the state, and old traditions were declared relics of the past, any mention of birthdays was perceived as an attempt "to keep the dying and outdated forms of life on the surface." Birthdays are not just a day of birth, but a festival associated with the Orthodox calendar, with the name of a saint. Therefore, everything related to them automatically fell under suspicion.

However, the critics went further. The birthdays in "The Mуха-Цокотуха" end with a wedding — and this also caused a heated reaction. "Literary Gazette" saw in the happy wedding of the mosquito and the komar "idealization of the petty bourgeoisie." One of the critics wrote: "What do these verses say? About the power of money." Indeed, everything begins with the fact that the mosquito finds money and goes to the market — so, according to the ideologists, the story teaches children "kulak accumulation" and glorifies private property. In a country where communism was being built, this was inexcusable.

A collective letter from the Kremlin kindergarten

The climax of the persecution was a collective letter published in 1929 in the magazine "Preschool Education." It was signed by "parents of children in the Kremlin kindergarten." These were not ordinary people — they represented the elite of Soviet society, and their voice was extremely significant. In the letter, they called for "fighting against chukovskism" and stated that all of Chukovsky's stories were not just bad, but harmful to children. They accused the author of developing superstition and fears, glorifying "petty bourgeoisie and kulak accumulation," and giving "incorrect ideas about the world of animals and insects."

For Chukovsky, this was a terrible blow. In his diary, he wrote: "So, my 'Crocodile' is banned, 'The Mуха-Цокотуха' is banned, 'The Ants' will be banned tomorrow." One after another, his works were falling under the censorial pressure, even "Barmaley" and "Aibolit."

Political undertones: the mosquito, the fly, and suspicious hints

The peculiarities of the situation were that the censors saw a political subtext in the characters of the story. According to Bystraya, Komarik was a "disguised prince," and the mosquito was a "princess." And this already sounded like anti-Soviet propaganda: since princes and princesses are symbols of monarchy, that old world that was destroyed by the revolution. It turned out that Chukovsky, without even wanting to, was propagating "bourgeois" values and idealizing the old order.

A joke was circulating among the people about how Chukovsky tried to publish "The Mуха-Цокотуха," coming for approval to each of the leaders. Lenin stopped him: "In the Soviet Union, a fly cannot go to the market!"; Stalin was upset that money was lying around on the collective farm field; and Andropov interrupted before he could even read the first line: "What are you talking about the Central Committee?!" This joke, like any sharp folk creation, accurately reflected the absurdity of Soviet censorship, capable of seeing counter-revolution even in an innocent children's story.

"The Mуха-Цокотуха" survives and becomes a classic

Despite all the bans and persecution, "The Mуха-Цокотуха" survived. In 1927, the story was published under its modern title. Later, with the easing of censorship pressure in the 1960s, it was printed in mass editions and entered the golden fund of children's literature. Today it is hard to imagine that once this cheerful, mischievous, musical story was considered "bourgeois filth" and an instrument of the ideological enemy.

The history of "The Mуха-Цокотуха" is the story of how literature can resist the pressure of the system, even when it seems that all doors are closed. Chukovsky did not rewrite his stories to please the censorship, did not cross out "suspicious" insects, and did not replace "birthdays" with "birthday." He just kept writing — for children, for eternity, for those who can hear joy, fantasy, and kindness in poetry. And today, when we read to children about the Mуха-Цокотуха and her brave savior-komar, we even do not suspect that this little book had to go through hell to get into our hands.

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