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To the Success of Our Hopeless Cause: The Many Lives of the Soviet Dissident Movement
A gripping history of the Soviet dissident movement, which hastened the end of the USSR—and still provides a model of opposition in Putin’s Russia
Beginning in the 1960s, the Soviet Union was unexpectedly confronted by a dissident movement that captured the world’s imagination. Demanding that the Kremlin obey its own laws, an improbable band of Soviet citizens held unauthorized public gatherings, petitioned in support of arrested intellectuals, and circulated banned samizdat texts. Soviet authorities arrested dissidents, subjected them to bogus trials and vicious press campaigns, sentenced them to psychiatric hospitals and labor camps, sent them into exile—and transformed them into martyred heroes. Against all odds, the dissident movement undermined the Soviet system and unexpectedly hastened its collapse. Taking its title from a toast made at dissident gatherings, To the Success of Our Hopeless Cause is a definitive history of a remarkable group of people who helped change the twentieth century.
Benjamin Nathans’s vivid narrative tells the dramatic story of the men and women who became dissidents—from Nobel laureates Andrei Sakharov and Alexander Solzhenitsyn to many others who are virtually unknown today. Drawing on diaries, memoirs, personal letters, interviews, and KGB interrogation records, To the Success of Our Hopeless Cause reveals how dissidents decided to use Soviet law to contain the power of the Soviet state. This strategy, as one of them put it, was “simple to the point of in an unfree country, they began to conduct themselves like free people.”
An extraordinary account of the Soviet dissident movement, To the Success of Our Hopeless Cause shows how dissidents spearheaded the struggle to break free of the USSR’s totalitarian past, a struggle that continues in Putin’s Russia—and that illuminates other struggles between hopelessness and perseverance today.
“A brilliant book about the success of a hopeless cause, the practicality of self-sacrifice, and the extraordinary transformation of a one-man campaign to follow fictitious laws into an international human rights movement. A remarkable achievement.”—Yuri Slezkine, author of The House of A Saga of the Russian Revolution
Beginning in the 1960s, the Soviet Union was unexpectedly confronted by a dissident movement that captured the world’s imagination. Demanding that the Kremlin obey its own laws, an improbable band of Soviet citizens held unauthorized public gatherings, petitioned in support of arrested intellectuals, and circulated banned samizdat texts. Soviet authorities arrested dissidents, subjected them to bogus trials and vicious press campaigns, sentenced them to psychiatric hospitals and labor camps, sent them into exile—and transformed them into martyred heroes. Against all odds, the dissident movement undermined the Soviet system and unexpectedly hastened its collapse. Taking its title from a toast made at dissident gatherings, To the Success of Our Hopeless Cause is a definitive history of a remarkable group of people who helped change the twentieth century.
Benjamin Nathans’s vivid narrative tells the dramatic story of the men and women who became dissidents—from Nobel laureates Andrei Sakharov and Alexander Solzhenitsyn to many others who are virtually unknown today. Drawing on diaries, memoirs, personal letters, interviews, and KGB interrogation records, To the Success of Our Hopeless Cause reveals how dissidents decided to use Soviet law to contain the power of the Soviet state. This strategy, as one of them put it, was “simple to the point of in an unfree country, they began to conduct themselves like free people.”
An extraordinary account of the Soviet dissident movement, To the Success of Our Hopeless Cause shows how dissidents spearheaded the struggle to break free of the USSR’s totalitarian past, a struggle that continues in Putin’s Russia—and that illuminates other struggles between hopelessness and perseverance today.
“A brilliant book about the success of a hopeless cause, the practicality of self-sacrifice, and the extraordinary transformation of a one-man campaign to follow fictitious laws into an international human rights movement. A remarkable achievement.”—Yuri Slezkine, author of The House of A Saga of the Russian Revolution
816 pages, Hardcover
First published August 13, 2024
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 33 reviews
May 17, 2025
This is a superbly written book that provides a detailed and insightful analysis of the so-called dissident movement in the Soviet Union between the 1960s and 1980s – in fact, the definite history of the dissident movement. I highly recommend it to anyone interested in the Soviet Union, human rights, protest movements, the Cold War, and opposition against autocratic governments.
What sets Benjamin Nathans book apart from previous (Western) studies on the dissident movement is that he goes beyond the well-known figureheads (again, in the West, but also in today’s Russia in as far as these names are remembered) of Andrei Sakharov and Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn – who were, in fact, barely involved in the actual organizing of the movement. Instead, Nathans documents in intricate detail several dozen of men ánd women who wrote samizdat, met with each other in kitchens, went to protest meetings, were questioned by the KGB, contacted Western journalists and NGOs, contested the Soviet judiciary, in other words: the people who actually made up the movement. Nathans does so based on an incredible set of sources: biographies, interviews, Soviet and Western newspapers, court proceedings, and the archives of the Politburo and the KGB (insofar as this is accessible).
One of the key arguments of Nathans is that our (i.e. Western, but also scholarly and popular) perception of the dissident movement is skewed by both the Cold War and a lust for celebrity. Western journalists and politicians cast Soviet dissidents as liberal heroes born in the wrong country who sought to destroy the malign Soviet empire. Instead, most Soviet dissidents wanted to reform the Soviet state and demanded it would uphold its own constitution. This search for male freedom fighters also obscured the surprisingly high number of women (30-40%) in the dissident movement compared to Western protest movements during this time, such as Natalya Gorbanevskaya, Yelena Bonner (Sakharov’s wife), or Larisa Bogoraz. The continuous attention by Western media and critically Western short wave radio stations (Voice of America, Deutsche Welle, BBC) for dissidents posed a dilemma. On the one hand, this pressured the Soviet government to act. On the other hand, it played into the hands of the Soviet government to cast dissidents as anti-Soviet, Western-funded reactionaries – and ultimately to the imprisonment of most dissidents by the early 1980s.
Based on years of archival study Nathans manages to portray in intimate detail the thoughts, lives, and actions of key dissidents. He also embeds this in the shift in Soviet society during and after the post-Stalinist thaw. The Soviet Union confronted the question how to function without extra-judicial mass violence. Dissidents demanded the Soviet government upheld its own rights: civil obedience, rather than the civil disobedience we know from for example the Civil Rights Movements. Dissidents endlessly debated what methods would work best: to organize or not, to petition the government or not, to use international treaties or public opinion, or not?
Nathans also shows that in many ways the dissident movement remained limited to intellectuals from the main metropoles of the Union: Kyiv, Leningrad, and, above all, Moscow. No more than several hundred people were involved. However, through samizdat, people from Lithuania to Kyrgyzstan read dissident voices, or through broadcasts by Western radio. In this sense, the dissidents had an influence on the Soviet population that is not be underestimated, from the early show trials in the mid-1960s to their defamation by 1980.
Moreover, the book masterfully analyses the interaction between Soviet rights activist and the emergence of an international language of human rights by the late 1960s. Most Soviet dissidents were wary of Western NGOs such as Amnesty International, but were keen to use their influence to gain coverage. However, tensions remained: AI was unwilling to support a Soviet section, also out of fears of escalating tensions with the Soviet government, and also to engage with Soviet concerns and non-civic human rights. Following the Helsinki Final Act Soviet dissidents in different Republics established their own Human Rights committees, which would ultimately be cracked down on by the Soviet state. This is already a lengthy review, but Nathans discusses at length how the Soviet government confronted the dissidents: from Stalinist show trials to ‘’profilaktika’’ (e.g. calling in young dissidents early to pressure them to stop) to forced exile and later mass imprisonment and forced psychiatric detention, from media attention for show trials and personal attacks to silence and defamation as Western forces.
One small critique is that Nathans, while having accessed KGB archives in the Baltics, does first and foremost focus on Moscow, the core of the Union and the movement. While he does discuss dissidents in Ukraine and committees elsewhere, also in a chapter on nationalist movements, more attention for people beyond the centre – and, Russia in general – would have been welcome. This also brings me to a second point: another chapter on the interaction (or impact of) between the dissidents and their work with the manifold opposition movements and changes that occurred in the late 1980s would have also been welcome. How do labor strikes, national liberation movements, state reforms, etc. relate to the pioneering works of Soviet dissidents and their focus on human rights? At the same time, this is already a quite lengthy book and I am sure Nathans has tinkered on assembling multiple biographies and narratives together in a legible manner.
Nevertheless, this 650 page volume (over 800 including notes) is in my view the definite history of the Soviet dissident movement until Russian state archives open more fully. Nathans also underlines the broader importance of these brave people who stood up for what they believed to be morally right in the shadow of Stalin. The question was no longer Lenin’s ‘’what to do’’, but rather how to live with your conscience in a repressive state – and what to do about it? In the end, Nathans discusses the afterlives of key dissidents: most were killed or exiled, and only very few entered into Russian politics after 1991. Their legacy in the form of Memorial and the Sacharov centre is now all but over. Yet, their work persists and should inspire people across the world and Russia in particular.
What sets Benjamin Nathans book apart from previous (Western) studies on the dissident movement is that he goes beyond the well-known figureheads (again, in the West, but also in today’s Russia in as far as these names are remembered) of Andrei Sakharov and Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn – who were, in fact, barely involved in the actual organizing of the movement. Instead, Nathans documents in intricate detail several dozen of men ánd women who wrote samizdat, met with each other in kitchens, went to protest meetings, were questioned by the KGB, contacted Western journalists and NGOs, contested the Soviet judiciary, in other words: the people who actually made up the movement. Nathans does so based on an incredible set of sources: biographies, interviews, Soviet and Western newspapers, court proceedings, and the archives of the Politburo and the KGB (insofar as this is accessible).
One of the key arguments of Nathans is that our (i.e. Western, but also scholarly and popular) perception of the dissident movement is skewed by both the Cold War and a lust for celebrity. Western journalists and politicians cast Soviet dissidents as liberal heroes born in the wrong country who sought to destroy the malign Soviet empire. Instead, most Soviet dissidents wanted to reform the Soviet state and demanded it would uphold its own constitution. This search for male freedom fighters also obscured the surprisingly high number of women (30-40%) in the dissident movement compared to Western protest movements during this time, such as Natalya Gorbanevskaya, Yelena Bonner (Sakharov’s wife), or Larisa Bogoraz. The continuous attention by Western media and critically Western short wave radio stations (Voice of America, Deutsche Welle, BBC) for dissidents posed a dilemma. On the one hand, this pressured the Soviet government to act. On the other hand, it played into the hands of the Soviet government to cast dissidents as anti-Soviet, Western-funded reactionaries – and ultimately to the imprisonment of most dissidents by the early 1980s.
Based on years of archival study Nathans manages to portray in intimate detail the thoughts, lives, and actions of key dissidents. He also embeds this in the shift in Soviet society during and after the post-Stalinist thaw. The Soviet Union confronted the question how to function without extra-judicial mass violence. Dissidents demanded the Soviet government upheld its own rights: civil obedience, rather than the civil disobedience we know from for example the Civil Rights Movements. Dissidents endlessly debated what methods would work best: to organize or not, to petition the government or not, to use international treaties or public opinion, or not?
Nathans also shows that in many ways the dissident movement remained limited to intellectuals from the main metropoles of the Union: Kyiv, Leningrad, and, above all, Moscow. No more than several hundred people were involved. However, through samizdat, people from Lithuania to Kyrgyzstan read dissident voices, or through broadcasts by Western radio. In this sense, the dissidents had an influence on the Soviet population that is not be underestimated, from the early show trials in the mid-1960s to their defamation by 1980.
Moreover, the book masterfully analyses the interaction between Soviet rights activist and the emergence of an international language of human rights by the late 1960s. Most Soviet dissidents were wary of Western NGOs such as Amnesty International, but were keen to use their influence to gain coverage. However, tensions remained: AI was unwilling to support a Soviet section, also out of fears of escalating tensions with the Soviet government, and also to engage with Soviet concerns and non-civic human rights. Following the Helsinki Final Act Soviet dissidents in different Republics established their own Human Rights committees, which would ultimately be cracked down on by the Soviet state. This is already a lengthy review, but Nathans discusses at length how the Soviet government confronted the dissidents: from Stalinist show trials to ‘’profilaktika’’ (e.g. calling in young dissidents early to pressure them to stop) to forced exile and later mass imprisonment and forced psychiatric detention, from media attention for show trials and personal attacks to silence and defamation as Western forces.
One small critique is that Nathans, while having accessed KGB archives in the Baltics, does first and foremost focus on Moscow, the core of the Union and the movement. While he does discuss dissidents in Ukraine and committees elsewhere, also in a chapter on nationalist movements, more attention for people beyond the centre – and, Russia in general – would have been welcome. This also brings me to a second point: another chapter on the interaction (or impact of) between the dissidents and their work with the manifold opposition movements and changes that occurred in the late 1980s would have also been welcome. How do labor strikes, national liberation movements, state reforms, etc. relate to the pioneering works of Soviet dissidents and their focus on human rights? At the same time, this is already a quite lengthy book and I am sure Nathans has tinkered on assembling multiple biographies and narratives together in a legible manner.
Nevertheless, this 650 page volume (over 800 including notes) is in my view the definite history of the Soviet dissident movement until Russian state archives open more fully. Nathans also underlines the broader importance of these brave people who stood up for what they believed to be morally right in the shadow of Stalin. The question was no longer Lenin’s ‘’what to do’’, but rather how to live with your conscience in a repressive state – and what to do about it? In the end, Nathans discusses the afterlives of key dissidents: most were killed or exiled, and only very few entered into Russian politics after 1991. Their legacy in the form of Memorial and the Sacharov centre is now all but over. Yet, their work persists and should inspire people across the world and Russia in particular.
September 22, 2025
Benjamin Nathans offers a comprehensive history of the dissident movement in the late Soviet Union. The regime had become “vegetarian” after Stalin’s death, but laws were still decorative, courts were staged, citizens still suffered from an “inertia of fear,” and truth never mattered to official newspapers. Although foreign correspondents and NGOs played a role, the struggle was primarily that of the dissidents themselves. They protested, demanded transparency in legal proceedings, and circulated banned works through samizdat.
The book also captures the absurdity of totalitarianism—sometimes genuinely funny. Volpin wrote a manual on how to handle interrogation so effective that KGB operatives would throw up their hands: “You’ve been reading Volpin!” People binge-read Amalrik’s Will the Soviet Union Survive Until 1984?, and Sakharov’s memoir briefly outsold Agatha Christie. Best of all is an “anecdot”: a Moscow kindergarten teacher describes to her pupils how in the Soviet Union children have the best toys, the sweetest candies, the nicest schools, and so on, until little Vladimir bursts into tears. “Vovochka,” the surprised teacher asks, “what’s the matter?” Between sniffles, he replies: “I want to live in the Soviet Union.”
The book also captures the absurdity of totalitarianism—sometimes genuinely funny. Volpin wrote a manual on how to handle interrogation so effective that KGB operatives would throw up their hands: “You’ve been reading Volpin!” People binge-read Amalrik’s Will the Soviet Union Survive Until 1984?, and Sakharov’s memoir briefly outsold Agatha Christie. Best of all is an “anecdot”: a Moscow kindergarten teacher describes to her pupils how in the Soviet Union children have the best toys, the sweetest candies, the nicest schools, and so on, until little Vladimir bursts into tears. “Vovochka,” the surprised teacher asks, “what’s the matter?” Between sniffles, he replies: “I want to live in the Soviet Union.”
January 31, 2025
Poignant book of the brave people almost forgotten now. What did they risk their lives and freedom for? The anwser is in this book, read it and weep. A sad lesson for the people now, as we are facing something similar
December 29, 2025
I didn’t know much about the dissident movement in the Soviet Union before reading this book, but I was surprised by the movement as Nathans describes it. It’s a unique kind of movement—these dissidents don’t shout, don’t plot uprisings, don’t storm into the streets. Their resistance is almost quiet, based in moral clarity and—surprising, to me at least—strict legal adherence. (I can’t say for certain whether Nathans intended this description to apply to all—or virtually all—dissident activity within the Soviet Union, but I get the impression he does.) Such an approach has its advantages and disadvantages, and this book documents them at length. The author strikes a commendable balance between the individual lives and ideas of the dissidents themselves and the larger movement’s ideologies and impacts (both within and beyond the USSR).
I can’t say whether Nathans’ depiction is distorted or even biased, but I can say that it’s coherent and very interesting. I’ll surely read more on the subject at some point, but this book brought me a long way in my understanding of these lives and times.
I can’t say whether Nathans’ depiction is distorted or even biased, but I can say that it’s coherent and very interesting. I’ll surely read more on the subject at some point, but this book brought me a long way in my understanding of these lives and times.
August 6, 2025
Finished this behemoth a few weeks ago but I’ve been derelict in updating my goodreads & am in the process of writing up a lengthier reflection of this ambitious historical endeavor on Substack(of all places, LOL).
However, it would be remiss if I didn’t pan the book’s capitalization on a veritable treasure trove of sources: trial transcripts, “samizdat,” pages from long-discontinued periodicals, historical archive material…the list of written works that constituted the foundational grist for this informative delve into the evolution of the Soviet Dissident movement brooks no limits. The historian responsible adhered to the most rigorous standards of scholarship & clearly prioritized a full-fledged, comprehensive sifting of materials to engender this replete, broad-ranging portrait of an inspiring albeit embattled sociopolitical resistance.
5 stars and Volpin may as well represent one of the most epic dissidents in global history for his crude combination of constitutionality-based rhetoric and inability to comprehend social cues (mathematicians….).
However, it would be remiss if I didn’t pan the book’s capitalization on a veritable treasure trove of sources: trial transcripts, “samizdat,” pages from long-discontinued periodicals, historical archive material…the list of written works that constituted the foundational grist for this informative delve into the evolution of the Soviet Dissident movement brooks no limits. The historian responsible adhered to the most rigorous standards of scholarship & clearly prioritized a full-fledged, comprehensive sifting of materials to engender this replete, broad-ranging portrait of an inspiring albeit embattled sociopolitical resistance.
5 stars and Volpin may as well represent one of the most epic dissidents in global history for his crude combination of constitutionality-based rhetoric and inability to comprehend social cues (mathematicians….).
October 16, 2025
Inspired to read this from this great ChinaTalk interview with the author Benjamin Nathans: https:// www .chinatalk. media/p/the-many-lives-of-soviet-dissidents
Man, the political systems human beings get themselves into.
On the Russian mentality being a bad fit for liberal democracy and the proclamations from the dissidents:
I was a member in multiple Amnesty International student groups, so I was especially fascinated by the impact the organization had on the Soviet Union.
- In the late 1960s many of the dissidents began conceptualizing their demands in terms of respect for human rights, which gained even more momentum with the signing of the Helsinki Accords in 1975.
- The Soviet system was not a fan *at all* of independent civil society organization, but also saw Amnesty's extensive work on human rights violations of the Western bloc as highly useful.
- Amnesty leadership cared strongly about being politically neutral and non-partisan. The dissidents were a highly valuable on-the-ground sources for human rights violations.
- There's a crazy story about how Amnesty chairman Seán MacBride and Amnesty's 'realist' wing opposed formally recognizing the dissident-based Moscow Amnesty group because it would undermine the backchannel discussions with the Kremlin that MacBride was holding and that they thought were more promising than a local chapter in a hopelessly totalitarian party dictatorship.
Overall I think it's super interesting how much even the most totalitarian regimes seem affected by how they are perceived on international fora. Serious and balanced reporting for this seems underrated to this day, it is so frustrating to see most of the public discourse be so unserious and get distracted by one scope-insensitive rage bait after the other.
A Soviet version of Andersen's folktale would need a different ending. The child's declaration that the emperor has no clothes would elicit a scolding from the townspeople.
"Everything is already clear to everyone, so why speak about that, it isn't interesting!"
There would be complaints about disturbing the peace. Too young to face trial, the child would be found to suffer from political immaturity and would be held indefinitely in a psychiatric hospital. Perhaps the Soviet emperor would secretly suspect that the child was right about the non-existing clothes. But like the emperor in Andersen's story he would think to himself, "This procession must go on!", and would walk more proudly than ever as his comrades would hold high his magnificent mantle that wasn't there at all.
Man, the political systems human beings get themselves into.
On the Russian mentality being a bad fit for liberal democracy and the proclamations from the dissidents:
[The] Russian people find the idea of self-governance, of equality in front of the law and freedom, and the responsibilities that go along with these, almost incomprehensible. Even in the idea of pragmatic freedom, the average Russian sees not the possibility of securing a good life for himself, but the danger that some clever person will do well at his expense. The majority of Russians understand the word "freedom" as a synonym for "disorder", for the ability to engage with impunity in anti-social or dangerous activities. As for respecting the rights of the human personality as such, the idea derives bewilderment. One can respect strength, authority, even intellect, or education, but to the popular mind the idea that the human personality itself represents any kind of value is preposterous. Even the deeply rooted idea of justice offered little basis on which the dissident movement could cultivate members or allies. In fact, it contained the most destructive aspects of Russian society, the idea that nobody should live better than I do.
I was a member in multiple Amnesty International student groups, so I was especially fascinated by the impact the organization had on the Soviet Union.
- In the late 1960s many of the dissidents began conceptualizing their demands in terms of respect for human rights, which gained even more momentum with the signing of the Helsinki Accords in 1975.
- The Soviet system was not a fan *at all* of independent civil society organization, but also saw Amnesty's extensive work on human rights violations of the Western bloc as highly useful.
- Amnesty leadership cared strongly about being politically neutral and non-partisan. The dissidents were a highly valuable on-the-ground sources for human rights violations.
- There's a crazy story about how Amnesty chairman Seán MacBride and Amnesty's 'realist' wing opposed formally recognizing the dissident-based Moscow Amnesty group because it would undermine the backchannel discussions with the Kremlin that MacBride was holding and that they thought were more promising than a local chapter in a hopelessly totalitarian party dictatorship.
Overall I think it's super interesting how much even the most totalitarian regimes seem affected by how they are perceived on international fora. Serious and balanced reporting for this seems underrated to this day, it is so frustrating to see most of the public discourse be so unserious and get distracted by one scope-insensitive rage bait after the other.
September 9, 2024
Benjamin Nathans tells the story of dissent and dissenters in the Soviet Union.
No dissent was permitted under Stalin. Even assent was no guarantee of protection. This changed with Khrushchev, who ended the semi-random waves of terror.
Enter the dissidents, a motley group of Soviet intellectuals who objected to the behavior of the government. Hardly ever in agreement, their big-tent strategy was to call for the USSR to obey its own constitution, which theoretically guaranteed freedom of speech and protest.
In one of the more memorable sections, Nathans recounts the story of the first dissident trials, during which the regime had to learn in real time how to run a non-show trial. In 1966, two writers found to have published pseudonymously in the West (not a crime) were tried for "anti-Soviet agitation." The outcomes were preordained (guilty) but public relations proved impossible to manage without the tools of the pre-Khrushchev era (torture, threats to family members, etc). The trials backfired, and the dissident movement spread -- but only so far.
Reading between the lines, the story here is how muted dissent actually was. There were never mass protests. Dissidents were mainly oddballs, intellectuals, Jews, and those who had suffered under Stalin. They were viewed as an annoyance, even by those who shared their concerns. Meanwhile, protest movements in the Eastern Bloc based on ethnicity, religion, and nationalism were more successful. An unflattering picture of Russian culture emerges.
The book is well-written and lively. It rarely drags though the first half is more interesting than the second. Some of the best stuff is from trial transcripts -- which the government quickly learned to suppress. An excerpt from Joseph Brodsky's trial for "parasitism:"
Judge – And, in general, what is your specific occupation?
Brodsky – Poet. Poet-translator.
Judge – And who said you’re a poet? Who ranked you among poets?
Brodsky – No one. Who ranked me as a member of the human race?
No dissent was permitted under Stalin. Even assent was no guarantee of protection. This changed with Khrushchev, who ended the semi-random waves of terror.
Enter the dissidents, a motley group of Soviet intellectuals who objected to the behavior of the government. Hardly ever in agreement, their big-tent strategy was to call for the USSR to obey its own constitution, which theoretically guaranteed freedom of speech and protest.
In one of the more memorable sections, Nathans recounts the story of the first dissident trials, during which the regime had to learn in real time how to run a non-show trial. In 1966, two writers found to have published pseudonymously in the West (not a crime) were tried for "anti-Soviet agitation." The outcomes were preordained (guilty) but public relations proved impossible to manage without the tools of the pre-Khrushchev era (torture, threats to family members, etc). The trials backfired, and the dissident movement spread -- but only so far.
Reading between the lines, the story here is how muted dissent actually was. There were never mass protests. Dissidents were mainly oddballs, intellectuals, Jews, and those who had suffered under Stalin. They were viewed as an annoyance, even by those who shared their concerns. Meanwhile, protest movements in the Eastern Bloc based on ethnicity, religion, and nationalism were more successful. An unflattering picture of Russian culture emerges.
The book is well-written and lively. It rarely drags though the first half is more interesting than the second. Some of the best stuff is from trial transcripts -- which the government quickly learned to suppress. An excerpt from Joseph Brodsky's trial for "parasitism:"
Judge – And, in general, what is your specific occupation?
Brodsky – Poet. Poet-translator.
Judge – And who said you’re a poet? Who ranked you among poets?
Brodsky – No one. Who ranked me as a member of the human race?
September 21, 2025
Good history of the intellectuals of the Soviet dissident movement from the 1950s to the 70s. Couldn't help walking away feeling that this group of folks sorta failed -- they were very intellectual and focused on the abstract concept of human rights, which didn't really connect with the Soviet masses. I also don't know that civil obedience worked out so well for the dissidents -- while their behavior was legally correct, it seems that they were somewhat annoying to most casual observers, and I think a lot of people will choose personal reductions in irritations over legal correctness.
November 24, 2025
I read this book for a graduate history course, and I liked it a lot. This book was written incredibly well, being a Pulitzer Prize winner speaks to that, and Nathans explored this topic very well. I was particularly interested and drawn by the discourse around fiction writing and female representation! In this narrative history, women were central, and Nathans does a great job at representing that.
One of my main frustrations, and maybe that's too harsh a word to use, is that Nathans doesn't include many voices from those based outside Moscow. Although I enjoyed that Nathans refers to the dissident movement not being purely Russian, despite the book focusing on Moscow, it may have benefited from non-Moscow perspectives. It makes the book feel very Russo- and Moscow-centric, even though that wasn't the case for the dissident movement.
One of my main frustrations, and maybe that's too harsh a word to use, is that Nathans doesn't include many voices from those based outside Moscow. Although I enjoyed that Nathans refers to the dissident movement not being purely Russian, despite the book focusing on Moscow, it may have benefited from non-Moscow perspectives. It makes the book feel very Russo- and Moscow-centric, even though that wasn't the case for the dissident movement.
January 30, 2026
To The Success of Our Hopeless Cause: The Many Lives of the Soviet Dissident Movement is an excellent look back at efforts to bring about changes in the post-Stalinist Soviet Union.
Historian Benjamin Nathans identified major individuals and organizations in 1960s-1980s Russia who employed strategies to bring accountability to the Soviet power structure.
One of the early attempts to do this centered around the 1966 trials of Yuli Daniel and Andrei Sinyavsky. The efforts of these two Russians to utilize literature in order to draw attention to shortcomings in the USSR's governance are generally seen as kickstarting the dissident movement in the Soviet Union. The exertions of KGB Chairman Vladimir Semichastny to prosecute these two individuals for agitating against the Soviet state via literary criticisms were covered in detail by Nathans.
Attention was drawn to the absurd lengths gone to in order to use the words of these authors' fictional characters against their creators.
Efforts were made to transcribe the two men's trials in order to bring accountability to a Soviet legal system many still saw as a sham in spite of Nikita Khrushchev's promises to roll back the worst excesses of the Stalin era.
One individual who was drawn into activism by his work to transcribe the trial was Alexander Volpin, and he was the next dissident to be highlighted by To The Success of Our Hopeless Cause.
Volpin was trained in the field of mathematics and cybernetics and had an acute interest in law.
A literalist thinker to the core, he therefore used a unique strategy in his approach to the Soviet state, holding up the USSR's own constitution as a means of pointing out to the Communist leadership their violations of their own social contract. Instead of directly attacking the state founded by the revolution a half-century prior, Volpin attempted to drive home the extent to which the current government had strayed, both legally and in the principles of Leninism, from their own guideposts.
While Volpin tried, largely unsuccessfully, to use the Code of Criminal Procedure against the Soviet state, his fellow mathematically-trained dissident Vladimir Albrekht put together manuals like How To Be a Witness which sought to guide citizens' behavior while under interrogation.
Unfortunately, this guide was not enough to stop Peter Yakir and Victor Krasin, two dissidents covered in the book, from breaking under interrogation and giving up the identity of their fellow travelers to Fifth Directorate questioners.
While the show trials and brutal state-sanctioned murders of Stalin's NKVD no longer were a thing in Khrushchev's and Brezhnev's Soviet Union, dissidents were still unhappy about a host of violations ranging from forced stays at psychiatric institutions to the imprisonment of those who spoke out against Russia's domestic or foreign policies.
That these were in violation of conventions and/or stated ideals like the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, not to mention the Soviet Union's own bylaws, led dissidents during The Thaw's early stages to feel they could push for incremental, if not major, reforms.
One of the many interesting elements of the book was a look at the samizdat movement in the Soviet Union during this time period.
Samizdat was reproduced, oftentimes on onionskin paper, in secret by a clandestine group of dissident writers. It frequently dealt with materials whose widespread printing production would be a no-go in the Soviet Union and oftentimes consisted of tongue-in-cheek skewerings of the absurdities of Communist rule.
Alexander Ginzburg was one of the key samizdat authors profiled by Nathans, while Alexander Solzhenitsyn (of Gulag Archipelago fame) also contributed his writing both while residing in the Soviet Union and during his Vermont exile.
Occurring alongside these growing dissident efforts was the 1968 Red Square demonstration against the invasion of Czechoslovakia, attendance at which would put in legal jeopardy anyone speaking out against the country's foreign policy. There had also been previous gutsy gatherings in Pushkin Square by small numbers of activists protesting the Russian government's violations of civil liberties.
The Red Square protest was attended by subsequently arrested dissident luminaries such as Larisa Bogoraz, Pavel Litvinov, and Natalya Gorbanevskaya whose efforts were analyzed in the book.
The disproportionate presence of intellectuals, women, and Jewish individuals in this movement did not go uncommented upon.
Nathans divides the Soviet Union's populace from the 1960s-198os into three layers: the (extremely) small number of dissidents who publicly spoke out, the larger number of Russians who knew that things remained absurd even after Stalin's passing but kept their heads down out of concern for their friends, loved ones, and careers, and probably the biggest group, which consisted of apathetic citizens content to ignore the injustices around them and go about their daily lives blissfully in ignorance of this.
The phrase "I wasn't a dissident, but..." which was attributed obliquely to Soviet historian Aron Gurevich but according to the book was commonplace in post-1991 Russia is perhaps used as a form of after-the-fact justification on the part of Soviets who stayed on the sidelines during the dissident years.
Nathans uses a quote by Leonid Plyushch, who spent three years in a Dnipropetrovsk psychiatric hospital as punishment for his activities, to illustrate the position many non-dissident contemporaries took vis a vis the movement he was part of. Some of these former acquaintances thought that "There is always (excrement), there always has been and always will be...Whereas Soviet (excrement) has already dried up (since the brutal Stalin years)..., if you don't touch it, you won't smell it."
The book also delved into misconceptions in the West that most members of the dissident community were outright hostile toward the USSR and the socialist project launched in 1917.
While the KGB sought to paint dissidents as traitors funded by Western intelligence entities intent on toppling their regime, the book points out that some-like Volpin-saw themselves as trying to reform Moscow and return it to a more humane and human rights-oriented socialism. That they wanted a capitalist-style revolution to occur, regardless of how acutely many anti-Communists in the western Europe and U.S. hoped this was the case, was shown to be largely a fiction.
Its title, "To the Success of Our Hopeless Cause," was actually taken from a phrase many dissidents would often toast to in recognition of just how uphill their efforts to enact change truly were. The movement itself even faced internal divisions over questions like how much they should cooperate with Western NGOs like Amnesty International (which were often smeared as efforts to undermine Russia by Moscow) and whether their movement should be hierarchical or continue as the small, underground sort of effort it was during its outset in the 1960s.
Some of the dissidents even came from high ranks in the Russian government-military complex. One such individual was Andrei Sakharov, who was viewed by many as the Robert Oppenheimer of Russia for his work on developing nuclear weapons. His movement into the dissident camp was documented by the author, one almost as surprising as Red Army general Peter Grigorenko's own conversion to the cause.
This book is definitely deserving of its Pulitzer Prize and certainly earns five stars.
It not only covers the individuals and groups who sought to end the human rights violations but utilized a lot of nuance when it came to divisions between activists themselves. Deciding what would forward their cause versus what would set it back via retributions and clampdowns from Moscow was not always easy, all the more so given zealous efforts by groups in the West to hold them up as Cold War fifth columns situated behind the Iron Curtain.
Both their successes and shortcomings are documented by Nathans.
Reading this book will grant readers a well-rendered accounting of a cause which, although ultimately ending with the toppling of the USSR itself in 1991, nevertheless brought to the fore elements of dissonance and lack of concern for civil rights within large swaths of the Russian population that are causing revanchanist issues up to the present day.
-Andrew Canfield Denver, Colorado
Historian Benjamin Nathans identified major individuals and organizations in 1960s-1980s Russia who employed strategies to bring accountability to the Soviet power structure.
One of the early attempts to do this centered around the 1966 trials of Yuli Daniel and Andrei Sinyavsky. The efforts of these two Russians to utilize literature in order to draw attention to shortcomings in the USSR's governance are generally seen as kickstarting the dissident movement in the Soviet Union. The exertions of KGB Chairman Vladimir Semichastny to prosecute these two individuals for agitating against the Soviet state via literary criticisms were covered in detail by Nathans.
Attention was drawn to the absurd lengths gone to in order to use the words of these authors' fictional characters against their creators.
Efforts were made to transcribe the two men's trials in order to bring accountability to a Soviet legal system many still saw as a sham in spite of Nikita Khrushchev's promises to roll back the worst excesses of the Stalin era.
One individual who was drawn into activism by his work to transcribe the trial was Alexander Volpin, and he was the next dissident to be highlighted by To The Success of Our Hopeless Cause.
Volpin was trained in the field of mathematics and cybernetics and had an acute interest in law.
A literalist thinker to the core, he therefore used a unique strategy in his approach to the Soviet state, holding up the USSR's own constitution as a means of pointing out to the Communist leadership their violations of their own social contract. Instead of directly attacking the state founded by the revolution a half-century prior, Volpin attempted to drive home the extent to which the current government had strayed, both legally and in the principles of Leninism, from their own guideposts.
While Volpin tried, largely unsuccessfully, to use the Code of Criminal Procedure against the Soviet state, his fellow mathematically-trained dissident Vladimir Albrekht put together manuals like How To Be a Witness which sought to guide citizens' behavior while under interrogation.
Unfortunately, this guide was not enough to stop Peter Yakir and Victor Krasin, two dissidents covered in the book, from breaking under interrogation and giving up the identity of their fellow travelers to Fifth Directorate questioners.
While the show trials and brutal state-sanctioned murders of Stalin's NKVD no longer were a thing in Khrushchev's and Brezhnev's Soviet Union, dissidents were still unhappy about a host of violations ranging from forced stays at psychiatric institutions to the imprisonment of those who spoke out against Russia's domestic or foreign policies.
That these were in violation of conventions and/or stated ideals like the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, not to mention the Soviet Union's own bylaws, led dissidents during The Thaw's early stages to feel they could push for incremental, if not major, reforms.
One of the many interesting elements of the book was a look at the samizdat movement in the Soviet Union during this time period.
Samizdat was reproduced, oftentimes on onionskin paper, in secret by a clandestine group of dissident writers. It frequently dealt with materials whose widespread printing production would be a no-go in the Soviet Union and oftentimes consisted of tongue-in-cheek skewerings of the absurdities of Communist rule.
Alexander Ginzburg was one of the key samizdat authors profiled by Nathans, while Alexander Solzhenitsyn (of Gulag Archipelago fame) also contributed his writing both while residing in the Soviet Union and during his Vermont exile.
Occurring alongside these growing dissident efforts was the 1968 Red Square demonstration against the invasion of Czechoslovakia, attendance at which would put in legal jeopardy anyone speaking out against the country's foreign policy. There had also been previous gutsy gatherings in Pushkin Square by small numbers of activists protesting the Russian government's violations of civil liberties.
The Red Square protest was attended by subsequently arrested dissident luminaries such as Larisa Bogoraz, Pavel Litvinov, and Natalya Gorbanevskaya whose efforts were analyzed in the book.
The disproportionate presence of intellectuals, women, and Jewish individuals in this movement did not go uncommented upon.
Nathans divides the Soviet Union's populace from the 1960s-198os into three layers: the (extremely) small number of dissidents who publicly spoke out, the larger number of Russians who knew that things remained absurd even after Stalin's passing but kept their heads down out of concern for their friends, loved ones, and careers, and probably the biggest group, which consisted of apathetic citizens content to ignore the injustices around them and go about their daily lives blissfully in ignorance of this.
The phrase "I wasn't a dissident, but..." which was attributed obliquely to Soviet historian Aron Gurevich but according to the book was commonplace in post-1991 Russia is perhaps used as a form of after-the-fact justification on the part of Soviets who stayed on the sidelines during the dissident years.
Nathans uses a quote by Leonid Plyushch, who spent three years in a Dnipropetrovsk psychiatric hospital as punishment for his activities, to illustrate the position many non-dissident contemporaries took vis a vis the movement he was part of. Some of these former acquaintances thought that "There is always (excrement), there always has been and always will be...Whereas Soviet (excrement) has already dried up (since the brutal Stalin years)..., if you don't touch it, you won't smell it."
The book also delved into misconceptions in the West that most members of the dissident community were outright hostile toward the USSR and the socialist project launched in 1917.
While the KGB sought to paint dissidents as traitors funded by Western intelligence entities intent on toppling their regime, the book points out that some-like Volpin-saw themselves as trying to reform Moscow and return it to a more humane and human rights-oriented socialism. That they wanted a capitalist-style revolution to occur, regardless of how acutely many anti-Communists in the western Europe and U.S. hoped this was the case, was shown to be largely a fiction.
Its title, "To the Success of Our Hopeless Cause," was actually taken from a phrase many dissidents would often toast to in recognition of just how uphill their efforts to enact change truly were. The movement itself even faced internal divisions over questions like how much they should cooperate with Western NGOs like Amnesty International (which were often smeared as efforts to undermine Russia by Moscow) and whether their movement should be hierarchical or continue as the small, underground sort of effort it was during its outset in the 1960s.
Some of the dissidents even came from high ranks in the Russian government-military complex. One such individual was Andrei Sakharov, who was viewed by many as the Robert Oppenheimer of Russia for his work on developing nuclear weapons. His movement into the dissident camp was documented by the author, one almost as surprising as Red Army general Peter Grigorenko's own conversion to the cause.
This book is definitely deserving of its Pulitzer Prize and certainly earns five stars.
It not only covers the individuals and groups who sought to end the human rights violations but utilized a lot of nuance when it came to divisions between activists themselves. Deciding what would forward their cause versus what would set it back via retributions and clampdowns from Moscow was not always easy, all the more so given zealous efforts by groups in the West to hold them up as Cold War fifth columns situated behind the Iron Curtain.
Both their successes and shortcomings are documented by Nathans.
Reading this book will grant readers a well-rendered accounting of a cause which, although ultimately ending with the toppling of the USSR itself in 1991, nevertheless brought to the fore elements of dissonance and lack of concern for civil rights within large swaths of the Russian population that are causing revanchanist issues up to the present day.
-Andrew Canfield Denver, Colorado
September 25, 2025
This is a part of history I don't know much about. The subject matter is interesting and detailed but the presentation can get monotonous. 3.4/5
June 12, 2025
Benjamin Nathans’ To the Success of Our Hopeless Cause explores the lives of Soviet intellectuals who resisted the regime in quiet but powerful ways. One striking case is that of Sinyavsky and Daniel, arrested for writing fiction deemed anti-Soviet. A line from their trial stayed with me:
“In the prosecution's view, literature is a form of agitation and propaganda, and agitation is either Soviet or anti-Soviet… I feel that one cannot approach literature with juridical formulas.”
Nathans writes that they “calmly and firmly defended freedom of conscience, freedom of creativity, freedom of the personality.”
As someone who grew up under heavy censorship in China, I resonate deeply with this. The Soviet regime maintained a kind of unspoken contract with its people: I will talk about freedom, and you will act like it doesn’t exist. But dissidents like Andrei Amalrik refused to play along. Instead, he acted as if freedom were real—and that mindset struck me. It’s a kind of resistance I’ve adopted myself. Rather than demanding equality or complaining about injustice, I try to live as if those ideals already exist. I do this in big ways—like how I think about feminism—and in small ones too: even walking across a street in Thailand, I walk as if drivers will stop, and often they do.
This book is powerful not because it glorifies dissent, but because it shows how quietly radical it can be to live with integrity in a world that punishes it. Nathans doesn’t just document a political history—he gives voice to a moral one.
“In the prosecution's view, literature is a form of agitation and propaganda, and agitation is either Soviet or anti-Soviet… I feel that one cannot approach literature with juridical formulas.”
Nathans writes that they “calmly and firmly defended freedom of conscience, freedom of creativity, freedom of the personality.”
As someone who grew up under heavy censorship in China, I resonate deeply with this. The Soviet regime maintained a kind of unspoken contract with its people: I will talk about freedom, and you will act like it doesn’t exist. But dissidents like Andrei Amalrik refused to play along. Instead, he acted as if freedom were real—and that mindset struck me. It’s a kind of resistance I’ve adopted myself. Rather than demanding equality or complaining about injustice, I try to live as if those ideals already exist. I do this in big ways—like how I think about feminism—and in small ones too: even walking across a street in Thailand, I walk as if drivers will stop, and often they do.
This book is powerful not because it glorifies dissent, but because it shows how quietly radical it can be to live with integrity in a world that punishes it. Nathans doesn’t just document a political history—he gives voice to a moral one.
February 23, 2025
0 stars but that’s not an option. The summary sounded interesting but I’ve never had a more boring book other than some I was assigned in school. Do not recommend.
January 15, 2026
2025 Pulitzer Prize is a dense recounting of the Russian Dissident movement. “Dense” may not be adequate in describing this book. It’s a lot. At times it feels like overload.
I thoroughly enjoyed the book, but it may be too dense for the average reader. I enjoy the subject matter enough to dig through all the material the book displays, but if Russian history isn’t something that appeals to you at all then I would be surprised if you would be willing to do the work required to finish the book.
I would say the author does a good job of delivering the facts of history and he does well with delivering all the details in an easy to follow method. What I don’t think he did well with was attach any emotion to the Dissident’s stories. He talked about emotional writings that Dissidents produced, but the emotion never translated. So when reading the book the reader is left with their own feelings about things taking place.
This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, there are plenty of wild things that were happening to people after WWII. However, if you’re like me you simply are amazed that people lived this way in a modern world. It’s pretty crazy. Leaving one to often wonder why anyone would live like that?
One story tells of Russians explaining that living in Soviet Russia is like dried up manure. You can’t smell it until you step in it. It’s like living in sewage up to your chin and as long as nobody disrupts the pond nothing will get in your mouth or your eyes, but as soon as the Dissidents began making waves the sewage splashes all around causing some people to dislike the Dissident because it isn’t the Government causing evything to splash and stink, it’sthe Dissidents.
The author does good with showing how socialism wasn’t exactly what Russia thought it would be. They would joke that socialism is the longest path from Capitalism to Capitalism. A joke that made me stop and think for a long time.
Another idea expressed by a Soviet that I found interesting was, “The key to living like a free person in an unfree country was first of all to stop hoping for some kind of radical change, some liberation whether from above or below and instead to follow one’s own will. To think and work for one’s self. Rejecting the ethos of service to the people, the revolution, or the party.” How did socialism, a concept that is supposed to generate selflessness and equality, generate a thought that is almost 100% selfish?
If there was one thing I think I took away from this book that is potentially applicable right now it would be this, “Ideas should be combated with other ideas, not with force.” Forcing people to do your will is being a bully. What’s worse is that often times the bully can’t see that his life is meaningless because his whole life is a lie. I think we probably should remember that world wide, but I know we should remember that right here in America.
Overall I enjoyed the book, but I have a deep fascination with Russian culture and history. I don’t know of too may people that would get through the dense, fact based, emotionless delivery of the book. As far as Pulitzer’s go, I have read far worse winners, but I did wonder what the appeal was.
I thoroughly enjoyed the book, but it may be too dense for the average reader. I enjoy the subject matter enough to dig through all the material the book displays, but if Russian history isn’t something that appeals to you at all then I would be surprised if you would be willing to do the work required to finish the book.
I would say the author does a good job of delivering the facts of history and he does well with delivering all the details in an easy to follow method. What I don’t think he did well with was attach any emotion to the Dissident’s stories. He talked about emotional writings that Dissidents produced, but the emotion never translated. So when reading the book the reader is left with their own feelings about things taking place.
This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, there are plenty of wild things that were happening to people after WWII. However, if you’re like me you simply are amazed that people lived this way in a modern world. It’s pretty crazy. Leaving one to often wonder why anyone would live like that?
One story tells of Russians explaining that living in Soviet Russia is like dried up manure. You can’t smell it until you step in it. It’s like living in sewage up to your chin and as long as nobody disrupts the pond nothing will get in your mouth or your eyes, but as soon as the Dissidents began making waves the sewage splashes all around causing some people to dislike the Dissident because it isn’t the Government causing evything to splash and stink, it’sthe Dissidents.
The author does good with showing how socialism wasn’t exactly what Russia thought it would be. They would joke that socialism is the longest path from Capitalism to Capitalism. A joke that made me stop and think for a long time.
Another idea expressed by a Soviet that I found interesting was, “The key to living like a free person in an unfree country was first of all to stop hoping for some kind of radical change, some liberation whether from above or below and instead to follow one’s own will. To think and work for one’s self. Rejecting the ethos of service to the people, the revolution, or the party.” How did socialism, a concept that is supposed to generate selflessness and equality, generate a thought that is almost 100% selfish?
If there was one thing I think I took away from this book that is potentially applicable right now it would be this, “Ideas should be combated with other ideas, not with force.” Forcing people to do your will is being a bully. What’s worse is that often times the bully can’t see that his life is meaningless because his whole life is a lie. I think we probably should remember that world wide, but I know we should remember that right here in America.
Overall I enjoyed the book, but I have a deep fascination with Russian culture and history. I don’t know of too may people that would get through the dense, fact based, emotionless delivery of the book. As far as Pulitzer’s go, I have read far worse winners, but I did wonder what the appeal was.
July 9, 2025
This book won the non-fiction Pulitzer with good reason - it’s a fantastic account of the so-called dissident movement that is thoroughly researched - like insanely throughly researched, I can’t even start to imagine the poring over letters and government documents and novels and KGB transcripts and letters that went into this. It is a dense and rich read, as complex as its topic. I wouldn’t call it “gripping” or a fast paced narrative, but I honestly attribute that to pure veracity - so much of the movement was characterized by small action, waiting for the inevitable interrogation, arrest, or exile, that any frustration in the read is just mirror to the struggle of the subject. To read it feels lived in, and there’s a difficult but trenchant resonance to be experienced there.
This book (and great books like it) serve, to me, four purposes:
1. Pure account. It’s a historical document of the facts, and these are important per se. That particular aspect is often unexciting as the facts are only as “sexy” as they are, but it’s important. The labor here was well worth it; nailed it.
2, dispelling myths. As a Western reader, I held a distorted and largely romanticized vision of the dissident movement, and it is beyond interesting to learn the actually complexities involved and how they both echo and contradict the myths. I feel more enlightened. While the romantic admiration is still there, it is much more grounded in the actual day-to-day of these men and women.
3, applied “advice.” If you are concerned with tyranny and an oppressive government that doesn’t obey its own laws and looks to stamp out dissent - which here in the States you probably should be - here is a great account of real lives in similar circumstances and several examples of how to try to live a dignified and authentic life given that political landscape. It was impossible to read this without having a near panicked sensation of the same challenges coming for me. And I loved that the book offered no easy answers - suggestions, sure, but the reality is that the outcomes were a mess. Some people accomplished something, maybe? Some banged their heads against a wall? Others cowered, others turned … it was all so difficult, as I am sure it will be for us.
4, it is imho an almost mystical text. The contradictions and competing worldviews and victories and errors and dynamic tides all point toward reminders that you don’t have it down. Really sitting with this - how much of your ethics are conditioned? How much of your worldview is arbitrarily premised? Could there even be anything that *you* think? What are you when “you” are so batted about by world systems? It was honestly unsettling. Again, no easy answers, but as I proceeded through I felt everyday observations twisting. It serves an awakening, and it’s powerful.
No doubt this was an effortful read. I went through slowly and had to keep a list of names. (Hahaha no, not a KGB list). It really paid off, though. I learned a tremendous amount about mid 20th century Soviet Russia and about these “other-thinkers,” but I also experienced a rich brain wipe. Reconsider things … and if you find yourself with a hopeless cause, there’s a cool toast AND myriad ways to be.
This book (and great books like it) serve, to me, four purposes:
1. Pure account. It’s a historical document of the facts, and these are important per se. That particular aspect is often unexciting as the facts are only as “sexy” as they are, but it’s important. The labor here was well worth it; nailed it.
2, dispelling myths. As a Western reader, I held a distorted and largely romanticized vision of the dissident movement, and it is beyond interesting to learn the actually complexities involved and how they both echo and contradict the myths. I feel more enlightened. While the romantic admiration is still there, it is much more grounded in the actual day-to-day of these men and women.
3, applied “advice.” If you are concerned with tyranny and an oppressive government that doesn’t obey its own laws and looks to stamp out dissent - which here in the States you probably should be - here is a great account of real lives in similar circumstances and several examples of how to try to live a dignified and authentic life given that political landscape. It was impossible to read this without having a near panicked sensation of the same challenges coming for me. And I loved that the book offered no easy answers - suggestions, sure, but the reality is that the outcomes were a mess. Some people accomplished something, maybe? Some banged their heads against a wall? Others cowered, others turned … it was all so difficult, as I am sure it will be for us.
4, it is imho an almost mystical text. The contradictions and competing worldviews and victories and errors and dynamic tides all point toward reminders that you don’t have it down. Really sitting with this - how much of your ethics are conditioned? How much of your worldview is arbitrarily premised? Could there even be anything that *you* think? What are you when “you” are so batted about by world systems? It was honestly unsettling. Again, no easy answers, but as I proceeded through I felt everyday observations twisting. It serves an awakening, and it’s powerful.
No doubt this was an effortful read. I went through slowly and had to keep a list of names. (Hahaha no, not a KGB list). It really paid off, though. I learned a tremendous amount about mid 20th century Soviet Russia and about these “other-thinkers,” but I also experienced a rich brain wipe. Reconsider things … and if you find yourself with a hopeless cause, there’s a cool toast AND myriad ways to be.
February 6, 2026
I highly recommend this book if you have any interest in Russian history or the history of totalitarian regimes. The book essentially picks up where Alexander Solzhenitsyn's works leave off. To recap briefly, Lenin started (and Stalin greatly expanded) the Soviet prison camp system which became known as the Gulag Archipelago. These camps were for run of the mill criminals but also for political criminals - those who simply engaged in wrong think. After Stalin's death and after the politiburo had Lavrenty Beria unalived Kruschev came out and denounced Stalin. There was a brief period of openness during Kruschev's 11 years in power (1953-1964). During that period, the people in power still generally believed they could complete the transition to communism, but they were far less willing to use deadly force, torture and executions to move things along than had been the case under Lenin and Stalin.
During this period, some Russians, who still believed in the overall aspirations of Socialism and Communism, began insisting that the Russian government actually follow it's own laws. The first individual mentioned was a mathematician named Alexander Volpin. The book starts with him and then moves forward to discuss the various highs and lows of what subsequently became known as the Soviet Dissident Movement. Dissident literally meant "one who things differently". They communicated internally within the Soviet Union via underground newsletters called samizdat. Some of these were published outside of the USSR and were referred to as tamizdat.
The book contains a number of interesting observations, including that the dissident movement petered out over 10 years before the Berlin Wall fell. It also noted that the dissident movement reached its Zenith while focusing solely on issues within the Soviet Union and trying to make modest reforms from within. Once the movement gained popularity in the West, and the movement began to internationalize its goals, public opinion inside the USSR shifted dramatically against the dissidents.
Its hard to make a dry subject like this "come alive" but I think the author did a masterful job of discussing the personal lives of the various dissidents without distracting from the emphasis of the book - which is the growth and decline of the movement.
During this period, some Russians, who still believed in the overall aspirations of Socialism and Communism, began insisting that the Russian government actually follow it's own laws. The first individual mentioned was a mathematician named Alexander Volpin. The book starts with him and then moves forward to discuss the various highs and lows of what subsequently became known as the Soviet Dissident Movement. Dissident literally meant "one who things differently". They communicated internally within the Soviet Union via underground newsletters called samizdat. Some of these were published outside of the USSR and were referred to as tamizdat.
The book contains a number of interesting observations, including that the dissident movement petered out over 10 years before the Berlin Wall fell. It also noted that the dissident movement reached its Zenith while focusing solely on issues within the Soviet Union and trying to make modest reforms from within. Once the movement gained popularity in the West, and the movement began to internationalize its goals, public opinion inside the USSR shifted dramatically against the dissidents.
Its hard to make a dry subject like this "come alive" but I think the author did a masterful job of discussing the personal lives of the various dissidents without distracting from the emphasis of the book - which is the growth and decline of the movement.
December 29, 2025
If you want to read a meticulously researched 600+ page book on a very specific topic - boy do I have a treat for you.
This is a detailed account of the Soviet dissident movement that emerged in the 1960s, when several recklessly brave individuals began demanding that the USSR follow its own laws and the international human rights agreements it had signed. The book delves into personal destinies and the immense sacrifices these dissidents endured. It explores the origins and importance of samizdat, the covert ways dissidents communicated with the West during the Cold War, their attempts at self-organization, and the early influence of civil rights organizations like Amnesty International.
What I appreciated most is that the book felt quite objective: it is critical, but does not demonize the Soviet Union. Instead, it calmly explains the logic behind its functioning and its ideological stance toward both its citizens and the opposition. Likewise, it doesn’t romanticize the dissidents: it’s frank about how disconnected the movement was from the broader Soviet population (“the masses”) and doesn't shy away from portraying the more undemocratic and messy episodes in its history.
I was enjoying this book not just because I wanted to systematize my knowledge of this period, but also it was amazing to follow how one builds such a well-researched nonfiction work.
One idea that will stay with me is that of civic obedience: dissidents sometimes protested by following Soviet laws so closely and meticulously that their obedience itself became subversive.
This is a detailed account of the Soviet dissident movement that emerged in the 1960s, when several recklessly brave individuals began demanding that the USSR follow its own laws and the international human rights agreements it had signed. The book delves into personal destinies and the immense sacrifices these dissidents endured. It explores the origins and importance of samizdat, the covert ways dissidents communicated with the West during the Cold War, their attempts at self-organization, and the early influence of civil rights organizations like Amnesty International.
What I appreciated most is that the book felt quite objective: it is critical, but does not demonize the Soviet Union. Instead, it calmly explains the logic behind its functioning and its ideological stance toward both its citizens and the opposition. Likewise, it doesn’t romanticize the dissidents: it’s frank about how disconnected the movement was from the broader Soviet population (“the masses”) and doesn't shy away from portraying the more undemocratic and messy episodes in its history.
I was enjoying this book not just because I wanted to systematize my knowledge of this period, but also it was amazing to follow how one builds such a well-researched nonfiction work.
One idea that will stay with me is that of civic obedience: dissidents sometimes protested by following Soviet laws so closely and meticulously that their obedience itself became subversive.
January 12, 2026
Loved this book.
I have started this review a couple of different times. Everything I say feels cliche...The book is monumental, it is epic and revelelatory. Starting with the 1968 protest on Red Square where a few protestors unfurled banners talking about freedom and the need to actually do what the Constitution of the U.S.S.R says..it felt very familiar.
It was interesting reading about how the government tried to navigate protests post-Stalin. At one point a teacher who was fired for talking about the failures of the State had her fellow teachers grumbling...1937. 1937 we all know about that now..why keep talking about it. Talk about the good things.
It is a long book and I am not doing it justice. I appreciated that the demonstrators are both heroic and very human in this story. If you are at all interested in Russia or even just how people protest in authoritarian states (or countries that are rapidly falling into being one) You should give this book a try.
I have started this review a couple of different times. Everything I say feels cliche...The book is monumental, it is epic and revelelatory. Starting with the 1968 protest on Red Square where a few protestors unfurled banners talking about freedom and the need to actually do what the Constitution of the U.S.S.R says..it felt very familiar.
It was interesting reading about how the government tried to navigate protests post-Stalin. At one point a teacher who was fired for talking about the failures of the State had her fellow teachers grumbling...1937. 1937 we all know about that now..why keep talking about it. Talk about the good things.
It is a long book and I am not doing it justice. I appreciated that the demonstrators are both heroic and very human in this story. If you are at all interested in Russia or even just how people protest in authoritarian states (or countries that are rapidly falling into being one) You should give this book a try.
Want to read
September 6, 2025MUST READ. PULITZER PRIZE WINNER 2025 (not that that means shit). About the bravery of our amazing Soviet Jews.
traces the evolution of dissident activism from the 1950s through the 1980s, exploring how these activists, including writers, intellectuals, scientists, and everyday citizens, challenged state repression and promoted ideals of human rights, freedom, and justice. Nathans challenges the notion that the Soviet dissidents (including the Jewish dissidents) were a monolithic group, and captures the spirit of resistance within the Soviet Union but also adds depth to our understanding of global human rights struggles during the Cold War era.
traces the evolution of dissident activism from the 1950s through the 1980s, exploring how these activists, including writers, intellectuals, scientists, and everyday citizens, challenged state repression and promoted ideals of human rights, freedom, and justice. Nathans challenges the notion that the Soviet dissidents (including the Jewish dissidents) were a monolithic group, and captures the spirit of resistance within the Soviet Union but also adds depth to our understanding of global human rights struggles during the Cold War era.
July 22, 2025
I liked how Nathans frames the Soviet dissident movement using Don Quixote, as well as the notion of dissidents as actors disrupting the theatrical play enacted by Soviet society and government. There really does seem to be an element of farce to it because, barring the punitive psychiatry and the prison and labor camp sentences, I feel that the methods of retribution available to the Soviet government were relatively mundane. Even though I know that impression to be false, it is hard to shake the feeling, likely because they are mundane when compared to the violence of the Stalin era.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
November 14, 2025
A vast and well researched history of the dissident movement in the U. S. S. R. from Lenin and Stalin's up till the Putin era. The title of the book is it's thesis which is the existential quest to change things in this hopeless doomed struggle. The strategies they use are many times unique. Rather than form interest groups which will surely get them thrown in jail (etc.) they protest individually without an organizational structure. Also the protest involve forcing the government to follow it's own constitution. A very well written book.
August 21, 2025
An incredibly DENSE book that shines light on people who wanted to make a change within their country and government, and who were silenced by lawsuits, imprisonment, and institutionalization. I really enjoyed the parts of the book covering literary censorship as well as the exchange (and methods of exchange) of texts. That said, this is a part of history I know little about and it was incredibly interesting to learn about it.
November 11, 2025
The focus of this book is not what it claims - it is very narrow and limited, focused on just a few individuals/couples, and only over the span of less than a decade for 90% of the book content.
It is not clear who the book's intended audience could be. It must be someone who grew up in Moscow, Russia as a native, but who is also an attorney. No one else would be able to properly appreciate this book's content.
I'm very surprised it won a Pulitzer Prize.
It is not clear who the book's intended audience could be. It must be someone who grew up in Moscow, Russia as a native, but who is also an attorney. No one else would be able to properly appreciate this book's content.
I'm very surprised it won a Pulitzer Prize.
August 7, 2025
After a bit of a slow start, the bulk of the book was enjoyable. However, the last few chapters (the ones about Amnesty International) flagged. The book is easy to read. At times it is very thought provoking, not just about life in the Soviet Union, but about life in general. At other times it is overly detailed.
October 6, 2025
The dissidents of 1960-1970s USSR were a small, complex, intelligent, and ambitious group. Nathans breaks down the individual personalities as well as the statistics of the groups. He doesn't pull his punches in regard to the blind eye shown to women in the movement or the glaring intensity focused upon those with Jewish ancestry. Beautifully written and thoughtful.
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November 7, 2025Winner of the 2025 Pulitzer prize for nonfiction.
Provides a detailed history and analysis of the dissident movement in the Soviet Union. Provides names, the lives, the trials, and the triumphs of leaders and fighters forgotten in history. It also shows how people can fight back against an authoritarian government in a bit of an unorthodox way.
Provides a detailed history and analysis of the dissident movement in the Soviet Union. Provides names, the lives, the trials, and the triumphs of leaders and fighters forgotten in history. It also shows how people can fight back against an authoritarian government in a bit of an unorthodox way.
November 24, 2025
Meticulously well researched, which earned it its Pulitzer, but a bit disappointing in that it's not especially fascinating for the most part.
Many interesting stories of stubborn and reluctant activists (often bookish intellectuals) getting themselves into awkward tangles with KGB and the self-contradictory Soviet justice system, but at times it does feel repetitive.
Many interesting stories of stubborn and reluctant activists (often bookish intellectuals) getting themselves into awkward tangles with KGB and the self-contradictory Soviet justice system, but at times it does feel repetitive.
June 17, 2025
It was fascinating! I admit I did not read all the pages. I read the first 5 or 6 pages of a chapter and then skimmed through and read the last few pages to get the gist of the topic in each chapter. I am glad I stuck with it.
January 25, 2025
This was fascinating. Uneven, but important. Malicious compliance might be the way for awhile. And I'm truly considering starting a zine.
July 11, 2025
Magnificent.
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