Mar. 5, 1946. Fulton, Missouri. Sir Winston Churchill delivered what would become a famous speech. He stated that the Soviet Union blocked both itself and the nations it had liberated from the Nazi occupation from open contact with the rest of the world.

The former British PM used the metaphor that came to symbolize the Cold War: “From Stettin in the Baltic to Trieste in the Adriatic, an iron curtain has descended across the continent.” Both people and information traveled back and forth at a Moscow-controlled minimum rate.

To leave a socialist country, one needed to get a special exit visa. Foreigners were only permitted entry by the KGB. Rampant censorship filtered the information flows into what was allowed and what wasn’t. All the while, the authorities were telling egregious lies about the prosperity

Of the socialist world and the depravity of its capitalist counterpart. They claimed that the workers from all over the world were unanimous in their support for the USSR. This isolation policy was being enforced until the USSR collapsed.

That policy was getting uglier by the day. It was ruining people’s lives to a point where it could no longer help the communist cause. On the contrary, people’s grievances with the regime were mounting. So, the free flow of products, money, information and people

Became a major landmark of the late 20th century. Those who lived in that era of restrictions have come to value this freedom to a point where they begin to freak out at the slightest sign of the Iron Curtain policy resurfacing.

Over the past two years, the similarities have been striking. That includes banned air travel to and from the E.U., the increasing number of those barred from leaving, and the government revoking someone’s travel passports. But today, we’ll examine the history of the matter.

How did it all start? What was the Iron Curtain all about? What was its undoing? STALIN’S CURTAIN While the residents of Poland, Czechoslovakia, Hungary, and Romania weren’t hit by the Iron Curtain until the beginning of the Cold War,

The Soviets had already gotten used to international isolation by 1946. Stalin himself had created the “curtain.” After scrapping the New Economic Policy in the late 1920s, Stalin decided to severely restrict the Soviet people’s travel both domestically and abroad.

Truth be told, the Soviet leadership condoned its ideological adversaries fleeing the country using various pretexts. Some allegedly left to get medical treatment. Others wanted to check in on their families abroad. Those were decried as the former landowners and bourgeoisie nursing a grudge

Against the Bolsheviks after they’d been stripped of their privileges and their right to exploit the commoners. But at a certain point, the communists that got disillusioned with the Soviet system began running for the hills.

They’d come to Western Europe and shared stories of the fat Soviet lies, the Communist Party’s corruption, and the Politburo’s dictatorial ways. All that was compromising the Soviet Union and had to be dealt with. In one year alone, between Oct. 1928 and Oct. 1929,

A total of 72 “traitors” escaped the Soviet duties and settled abroad. In the late 1920s and the early 1930s, Stalin eventually closed the borders as the government introduced the passports and exit visas, restricted opportunities for international travel, and beefed up border security.

The Politburo ordered cuts to the Soviet representation abroad, limiting it to diplomatic and foreign trade missions. Only “well-meaning and honest employees” who were “loyal” to the regime were allowed to leave. A select committee was set up to decide whether

A specific performer could go on a tour to Paris. The committee included the Interior Minister Nikolai Yezhov, the future ideologue of the Great Purge. They would grant permission to some people and deny exit to others. In 1932, the committee sparred over whether to greenlight

the tour of prima ballerina Marina Semenova. Her sensational ballet skills made them think the mesmerized audience would urge her to stay abroad. Kliment Voroshilov said, “Semenova may choose to stay there. That’s reason enough to bar her from traveling.”

Lazar Kaganovich snapped back, saying, “She’ll see no point staying there. She’s not the one to be lured by money, luxury, and other perks.” Semenova was allowed to travel to Paris two years later. Much to Kaganovich’s joy, she did come back.

Otherwise, she would’ve been billed as a traitor. Her property would’ve been seized. In case she’d returned, she would’ve been executed within the first 24 hours. Back then, the Iron Curtain wasn’t a hassle to a lot of Soviet people. Most had just learned how to read.

Many knew nothing about the possibility to travel abroad. They had no need to leave the country, read foreign books and magazines, or watch foreign flicks. That being said, the government denied them the right to travel abroad and access

To literally any information coming from elsewhere. The intelligence ops would scrutinize everyone willing to take a trip. Books, magazines, and movies were combed through by the censorship to keep those in line with the ideology. On Stalin’s watch, the system worked rather efficiently.

Escapes from the Soviet Union and the ensuing international rows were pretty rare. Meanwhile, domestically, the government’s effort to convince the Soviet workers that their standard of living was higher than that of their beleaguered capitalist counterparts bore fruit. PARTITION VS. GLOBALIZATION

Much to the Soviet system’s chagrin, the world began to change rapidly following WW2. The booming technology, manufacturing industry, and services as well as the growing levels of urbanization and literacy affected people’s needs. The development of commercial aviation in the 1950s

Spurred a surge in international travel. The vibrant and colorful movies and literature were readily available so that more and more people found out about foreign cultures and picked up new languages. In an increasingly globalistic world, the Soviet Union was no exception.

The country experienced a wave of urbanization. New schools and colleges were established. Quite understandably, movie theaters became part of people’s everyday life. More and more people were interested in international communication. But the Soviet leaders saw it differently.

It never occurred to a Western official that their country would take a hit if someone traveled to Shanghai and then sought to adopt the local lifestyle, awestruck by what they’d seen. However, the Soviet authorities were distrustful of their citizens

and extremely sensitive to people’s opinions. Even following Stalin’s death, restoring the right to travel and pick one’s residence was out of the question. Their rationale was quite straightforward. An unreasonable individual could be tempted by the Western luxury

Gained at the expense of the oppressed proletaria. And they could choose not to get back. The government would lose the talent in whose training it had heavily invested while that talent would be working for the enemy.

Worse still, they could get back and exert a bad influence on fellow workers, spinning yarns about the capitalist prosperity. The government dreaded the idea, and so, they wanted their citizens to stay home

And explore life in Europe and the U.S. through the “honest” lens of the Soviet television. In the 1950s, people started escaping East Germany via Berlin, which had the open borders. As viewed by the Soviet leadership, it was proof enough that

The influence of the “bourgeois way of thinking” was significant. So, they sprang into action. In Aug. 1961, East Berlin became separated by a wall that had taken three days to set up. The Berlin Wall plugged the final hole in the Iron Curtain

and came to symbolize the era. The wall was guarded by submachine guns, mines, and huge beams along with service dogs. The other borders of the socialist countries were reinforced as well. But they were nowhere near inviolable and iron-grade, to coin a phrase.

Neither Khrushchev nor Brezhnev nor the rest of them realized that the Stalinesque Iron Curtain was bound for failure in a new reality. The once-mighty curtain was turning into a pasta strainer. Back then, socialism strove to peacefully outstrip capitalism in all endeavors

ranging from meat and dairy production to athletic tournaments to the Space Race. If you’re out to convince the world that your system is better, you just absolutely have to interact with other countries, nationals, and cultures. You can’t marinate your athletes or performers inside your country

While refusing to let in any foreign nationals. You can’t be constantly cherry-picking international news stories or movies. Even the harshest censorship and the fiercest propaganda are prone to malfunctioning. In the 1970s and the 1980s, the propagandist show titled International Panorama aired on Soviet television.

It talked about racism, unemployment, and inequality. At the same time, it featured skyscrapers and non-Soviet people flaunting non-Soviet clothes. Sometimes they even showed the unthinkable. For example, commenting on the footage, presenter Valentin Zorin said,

“You can see a string of cars driven by the unemployed citizens following along the bridge.” It came as a shocker since most Soviet people could only dream of owning a car. It was tantamount to luxury. The same goes for the movies.

The number of foreign-made movies that could run in Soviet theaters was limited. Despite being the highest-grossing flicks, only the movies whitelisted by the Soviet censorship were allowed. For all that, the Soviet audiences were enthusiastic about getting a sneak peek into the “withering” capitalist lifestyle.

They tried to figure out if the life of characters played by Pierre Richard and Alain Delon was better than their socialist reality. More often than not, it was. Richard’s character could afford a vacation in Rio and don some dandy suits.

And French journalists were fighting for their rights the way that was inconceivable in the USSR. Those characters even made their way into Soviet-era songs, like, “Alain Delon never drinks cologne. He drinks double-oaked bourbon.”

The curtain was letting up, hitting the Soviet regime’s Achilles heels: product shortages, total control, and constant lies. SOVIETS ABROAD Another pain in the neck both for the authorities and the public was international tourism, an almost inaccessible dream.

For an ordinary citizen, tourism was the sole opportunity to see the world. But seizing that opportunity proved to be a tall order. Exit visa requirements included reference letters from the applicant’s employer, the labor union committee, and the Communist Party committee.

Then, the application was to be interviewed by the regional committee reps. They had to prove their “ideological maturity.” They had to have no access to classified information. They had to have a spotless track record and no sketchy family members.

The ordeal was followed by a quiz on the talking points broached at the latest Party congress. How are you supposed to go to East Germany unless you are well-versed in Erich Honecker’s latest statements?

What will you do, except making a mockery of the USSR? But even your perfect knowledge of “scientific communism” wasn’t enough. You could be easily denied exit if you had a limp or were divorced. That would certainly smear the Soviet people’s reputation.

But even after you were finally cleared, you had to be instructed beforehand. Then you had to shell out a pretty penny for the exit visa fee and a vacation package. You weren’t allowed to take your family with you. A Soviet tour guide in charge of a group says,

“You need to know the Italian for ‘How do I get to the hotel?’, ‘How much is the water?’, and ‘What time is it?’” A tourist goes, “What’s the Italian for ‘Please grant me asylum’?” Another tourist immediately snarls, “What for?”

“Just wanna figure out who’s the KGB mole.” Those measures prevented most tourists from escaping. But they did little to make them behave the way the Soviet government wanted them to. Even when in fellow socialist countrlies like Romania, Bulgaria, or Poland,

tourists went to great lengths to bypass the schedule and go to a local market instead of a museum. Soviet tourists eventually earned a reputation as smugglers and desperate shoppers skilled in haggling and hunting down rare items of clothing, beauty products, and jewelry.

They would swap Soviet cameras and razors for a tape recorder and a pair of denims. They exchanged vodka and caviar for lipstick and glasses. A foreign-made pair of jeans would then be worn for five to ten years.

The chewing gum they’d bring in would be chewed by their own kids along with their classmates, one stick reused by five kids. Western magazines were read cover to cover and shared with others. Because socialist economy was losing the competition for demand when it came

To such products, the Soviet travel industry never exploded till 1991. The government knew full well that tourism was capable of shattering people’s trust to the system and its ideology. Even between the 1960s and the 1980s, less than 1% of Soviet citizens traveled abroad annually.

To put it into context, by the mid-1950s, 4.5 million West Germans, or 8.5% of the total population of a country that had just lost the war, visited Italy each year. One in three Germans would travel abroad. FLEEING THE PARADISE

Here’s another popular joke, this time from the late Soviet era. A guy is handing out the leaflets on Red Square. The cops capture him and go, “Why are they blank?” The guy goes, “Everyone gets everything anyway.”

For all the Iron Curtain restrictions, it was painfully obvious that Soviet citizens, whether manual workers, farmers, or teachers, had a lower standard of living than their U.S. or French counterparts. They could afford less, and the range of options was far narrower.

They couldn’t explore the world or earn a degree wherever they wanted. They couldn’t choose what books to read or what music to listen to. Most people just put up with that. They traveled the USSR, read whatever the censorship allowed them to,

and purchased whatever was available. Some would spend years trying to cut through the red tape and get an exit visa to catch up with their families. Even in the 1980s, only a couple thousand exit visas were issued each year.

The lucky ones got married to foreign nationals. Others attempted an escape, just as was the case on Stalin’s watch. Some of those stories were well-known. In 1961, choreographer Nureyev didn’t make it back from his Paris gig. In 1982, movie director Andrei Tarkovsky stayed in Italy.

Oceanographer Stanislav Kurilov jumped off the deck of a cruise ship into the ocean and had to swim for two days to reach the Philippines. But there were tragic stories of botched escapes, too. At least 140 people either died or were killed at the Berlin Wall.

The number of Soviet citizens who lost their lives trying to leave the country is still classified. But it’s no small number for sure. Several years ago, Lithuania released a document from the local KGB office,

a list of 19 Lithuanians who attempted an escape between 1973 and 1980. Only 12 of them made it to the West. The rest of them either were captured or ended up dead. Car mechanic Vladimir Svecharevsky tried to swim

All the way to Sweden and drowned. Rolandas Eidukas was apprehended at the Polish–Czech border and sentenced to a prison term. For decades, the Soviet borders looked like a prison perimeter with tiered barbed wire fences and security-marked dirt roads.

Something that’s regarded as normal these days, like going abroad or even staying there, was a crime. An attempt to do so could ruin your career, land you in prison, or even get you killed. It may look preposterous today.

But what if this is all going to happen again? They can set up barbed wire fences, connect them to a power grid, and jail everyone who seeks to leave for “unfriendly countries.” To get a travel passport, you may be required to face an intelligence op

Interviewing you about your family and friends abroad, your stance on Putin’s rule and his special operation, and your intention to get back from your two-week stay in Turkey. Then, they’ll add that your failure to return will be tried as high treason.

And to be on the safe side, you’ll be denied exit. This can all be attributed to post-Soviet psychological trauma. After all, all countries have their blacklists of debtors, crime suspects, or those with access to classified data. Stringent requirements, restrictions, and bans can be found everywhere.

But people don’t flinch at it. They don’t fear ending up behind the Iron Curtain. However, former Soviet citizens often have a sneaking suspicion that they’ll get trapped. But even the Soviet Iron Curtain fell.

In the waning years of the Soviet Union, people thought the regime and the isolation would be forever and they’d never get a break. But they did. Even in the 20th century, no amount of clampdown proved enough to halt globalization and suppress people’s desire to be free.

In the 21st century, it seems even less real. See you tomorrow!

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