"Bourgeois Muddle": Why Soviet Censorship Banned Korniy Chukovsky's "The Mуха-Цокотуха"

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

First Publication and Immediate Scandal

In 1923, Korniy Chukovsky first read his new tale to friends and acquaintances. The audience was delighted: rhythmic lines, vivid images, resounding 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 give permission for publication. A record of Chukovsky's conversation with a Gublit employee, Lyudmila Bystrova, who explained to the writer that the illustrations to the tale 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 mosquito to the mosquito would provoke licentious thoughts," Chukovsky recorded with bitterness. But this was just the beginning.

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

Khrushchev's Attack: "Chukovskism" as an Ideological Enemy

The main accuser of Korniy 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 great weight. Khrushchev attacked Chukovsky with sharp criticism, calling his tales "nonsense" and "disrespectful to the child." She claimed that Chukovsky's works were not only useless but also 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 supporters blamed Chukovsky that "The Mуха-Цокотуха" "undermines children's faith in the triumph of the collective," it expresses "sympathy for kulak ideology," it praises "petty bourgeois-ness and kulak accumulation." It seems, where can one find kulaks in a children's tale about a fly and a mosquito? However, Soviet educators were able to read between the lines even that which was never there.

"Bourgeois" Birthday and Suspicious Wedding

One of the most absurd points of the accusation was the word "name-day." Lyudmila Bystrova, the deputy head of Gublit, explained to Chukovsky that a name-day was 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 a name-day was perceived as an attempt "to keep the dying and outdated forms of life on the surface." A name-day is not just a birthday but a festival associated with the Orthodox calendar, with the name of a saint. Therefore, everything associated with it automatically fell under suspicion.

However, the critics went further. The name-day in "The Mуха-Цокотуха" ends with a wedding — and this also caused a stormy reaction. "Literary Newspaper" saw in the happy wedding of the mosquito and the komar "idealization of petty bourgeois-ness." One of the critics wrote: "What do these lines say? About the power of money." Indeed, everything begins with the mosquito finding a coin and going to the market — so the tale, in the opinion of the ideologues, teaches children "kulak accumulation" and glorifies private property. In a country where communism was being built, this was unpardonable.

Collective Letter from the Kremlin Kindergarten

The climax of the persecution was a collective letter published in 1929 in the journal "Preschool Education." It was signed by "parents of children at 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 "combating chukovskism" and declared that all Chukovsky's tales were not only bad but also harmful to children. They accused the author of developing "superstition and fears," "praising petty bourgeois-ness and kulak accumulation," "giving incorrect representations of 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 Ant' will be banned not tomorrow." One after another, his works fell under the censorial pressure, even "Barmaley" and "Aibolit."

Political Subtext: The Mosquito, the Fly, and Suspicious Allusions

A special piquancy was added to the situation by the fact that the censors saw a political subtext in the characters of the tale. According to Bystrova, Komarik was a "disguised prince," and the Mуха was a "princess." And this already sounded like anti-Soviet propaganda: since princes and princesses are the symbols of monarchy, the old world that was destroyed by the revolution. It turned out that Chukovsky, without 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 to each of the leaders for approval. Lenin stopped him: "In the Soviet Union, a mosquito 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's that 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 tale.

"The Mуха-Цокотуха" Survives and Becomes a Classic

Despite all the bans and persecutions, "The Mуха-Цокотуха" survived. In 1927, the tale 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 this cheerful, mischievous, musical tale was considered "bourgeois muddle" and a weapon of the ideological enemy.

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

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