Call the Victims of Communism Foundation! In the Soviet Union they were so evil that they forced prisoners to read theory!

This text by the Danish communist lawyer Carl Madsen describes his visit to a Soviet labour camp in 1965. It seems like a credible account of what this part of the Soviet correctional system looked like in the 1960s.

A modern reader might object to many aspects of the camp, for instance I personally find the apparent lack of privacy troubling, but compared to other prison systems of the day, the Soviet one seems to have been on the more humane and sensible end of the spectrum. Some aspects of the system, like the focus on education still feels progressive today and the widespread self-government by the prisoners’ own council is lightyears ahead of anything known in modern prison systems in the “democratic” west.

I got this text from Madsen's book “Den Gode Læge” (The Good Doctor). A couple of days ago I posted a translation of another chapter from the book Criminal Justice In The German Democratic Republic.

Can It Be Different?

Denn wovon lebt der Mensch? Indem er stündlich Den Menschen peinigt, auszieht, anfällt, abwürgt und frisst. Nur dadurch lebt der Mensch, dass er so gründlich vergessen kann, dass er ein Mensch doch ist

• Bertold Brecht

There are Danish psychiatrists who believe that all crime originates in neuroses, that crimes are manifestations of neurotic states of anxiety and tension. As a logical consequence, they regard the criminal as a patient. They intervene to cure him of his neuroses and believe they have thereby removed the basis for his criminality.

This starting point is appealing, and under our social conditions, it is probably also the best. The psychiatrists attached to our prisons and institutions for criminals cannot, under our social conditions, approach the problems differently, but must simply leave them as they are.

But these neuroses, what is the precondition for them? What is the reason that people here cannot live and develop according to their abilities and aptitudes, but are whipped up into a rat race for money and career that cripples and destroys them in a spiritual sense? Why must they strive for imagined honour and turn their fictitious needs into demands that are aggressively directed outward against other people?[^1]

For me, there is no doubt that the essential breeding ground for neuroses, crime-breeding neuroses, is the capitalist social conditions we live under. In any case, one cannot help but bring the problem sharply into focus: whether the interpersonal relationships that capitalism entails – the need to get ahead of, dominate, and subjugate one's fellow human beings rather than developing according to one's potential and abilities – constitute a dunghill where the poisonous flowers of neurosis thrive.

This is precisely the case, which in turn means that only by socialism displacing the stinking social system we live under will the preconditions for neuroses, and thus for crime, disappear.

Still, it is hard to blame those doctors who, given the constraints we live under, are engaged in fighting crime; not all of them see the wider picture, and instead they treat the individual as a patient, alleviating the most disruptive symptoms with pills and psychotherapy as best they can. They cannot, after all, change society.

I have had the satisfaction of studying criminal justice and corrections both in the German Democratic Republic and in the Soviet Union.

It is completely obvious that they are far ahead of us in terms of crime prevention. Under socialist conditions the human being is the centre of attention, and what people are brought up to strive for is to develop themselves, to realise their talents and abilities, whereas it is considered anti-social, immoral and criminal to seek to live at others’ expense in one way or another. In these countries the ‘rat race’ is being replaced by comradely co-operation. The socialist countries are the countries where people come to one another’s aid.

I told many colleagues in the Soviet Union and the German Democratic Republic about Herstedvester [Danish high-security preventive detention facility] and [chief physician] Stürup and his institution. They listened with astonishment.

A fate like that of inmate number 81 [case of unjustified indefinite preventive detention previously mentioned by Madsen] is unthinkable except under the conditions of capitalism. To give a sense that there is a solution to the problems of crime, I will reprint a column I wrote about a visit to a penal institution near Moscow.[^2] But I have made similar observations in the German Democratic Republic, where, incidentally, Dr. Stürup had the opportunity to lecture about his institution. He was a peculiar experience for the audience.

But the account of my prison visit in Moscow comes here:

In the autumn of 1962, I undertook a journey in the Soviet Union. I had previously read about Soviet criminal justice, and during my stay in Moscow, I expressed a desire to see a labour camp. My wish was fulfilled,[^3] and on October 5th, I was driven out to such a labour camp, located about an hour and a half by car from central Moscow in one of the satellite towns around the capital.

During the drive and during the visit to the camp, I was accompanied by an interpreter and by a representative of the Moscow district soviet, who was also a member of a special committee set up by this soviet, responsible for maintaining public order. Prisons and labour camps also fall under this committee, and it contains every conceivable form of necessary expertise, particularly medical-psychiatric, pedagogical, and legal.

Soviet legislation recognises various forms of punishment and, naturally, also imprisonment, which is generally not imposed for longer than ten years. For very serious offences, imprisonment of up to fifteen years can be applied.

As the overwhelming rule, imprisonment is served in labour camps, correctional camps, as they are also called. Serving time in closed prisons occurs only exceptionally, and only where it concerns particularly serious crimes or very dangerous habitual criminals.

Furthermore, crime is rapidly declining, and many penal institutions are being closed down.[^4]

It was one of these aforementioned camps that I was on my way to. The camps are divided into four classes, according to the inmates. The mildest camps are class 1, and then come the other classes with regimes of increasing severity. The camp I wished to see is of the mildest category. There are 800-900 prisoners in it, and their sentence generally does not exceed three years; however, there are some with a sentence of up to five years.

In most cases the admission offenses are unlawful use of property, theft, membership in criminal gangs, and the like. There were no sex offenders.

Regarding the distribution of prisoners by age, it was stated that 40 percent were between 25 and 30 years old, another 40 percent between 30 and 40 years, while the last 20 percent are distributed among persons between 18 and 25 years and persons over 40 years.

The visit to the camp stretched over most of a day. It was shown by the camp's chief and two deputy inspectors, one responsible for cultural affairs, and the other, who was trained as an engineer, for work operations.

All the innumerable questions I asked were answered unreservedly, and it was immediately declared that there was not a single door in the camp that was closed to me. My interpreter was of excellent quality.

The camp's chief and the other senior staff are non-commissioned officers from the Red Army who have reached the special military age limit and have a pension and rank as NCO’s. Prior to appointment, they have undergone special training so that they are versed in the relevant laws, particularly, of course, the criminal and procedural codes. Their training also includes criminology and penology (the study of corrections). They do not belong to the army but are subordinate to the district soviet.

The basic guard duties are carried out by soldiers who are not fully fit for service and who serve their military service as prison guards. They are provided by the army, are command-wise subordinate to the camp's leadership, but have no direct contact with the prisoners.

In the camp, there is a school, which I will mention later. It is in no way subordinate to the camp or the district soviet, but to the Ministry of Education, like all other schools.

Attached to the camp is a staff of instructors, foremen, supervisors, doctors, dentists, nurses, etc.

In the Soviet Union, there is no form of indefinite detention of anyone other than dangerous mentally ill or mentally disabled persons, who can be committed for treatment. Detention can occur by criminal sentence, and no authority other than the courts can sentence to detention.

Thus, there is nothing in the Soviet Union that corresponds to our preventive detention facilities in Herstedvester and Horsens.

I have little negative to say about this camp when I compare it with conditions in Denmark, as far as I know them. Still, let me point out, if only so there is something to note, that the physical facilities are poorer than their Danish counterparts. The buildings are inferior and clearly the work of unskilled labour. This must, of course, be viewed against the backdrop of conditions in the Soviet Union as a whole."

Otherwise, the conditions in the camp, as far as I can judge, are better than the corresponding ones here in this country. The underlying principles are more humane, more rational, and they are attuned to the special conditions in the Soviet Union, where socialism is predominant, with the transition to communism on the agenda. This stage of development is the background for all social phenomena in the Soviet Union, also for criminal policy.

The life of the camp is based on an intimate cooperation between the administration and the prisoners' council, soviets as it is called in Russian, and the committees they have set up.

All able-bodied prisoners must work in the camp's metalworking enterprises for eight hours daily. Free time is used mostly for education and cultural-political work.

In the enterprises, work is done in two shifts, but apart from time indications, the daily schedules are identical.

The schedule for the first shift is as follows:

• At 6.00 the prisoners get up.
• From 6.00 to 6.10 the morning wash is carried out.
• From 6.10 to 7.10 breakfast is eaten in shifts.
• From 7.10 to 7.20 there is a roll-call.
• From 7.20 to 7.30 instructions for the day’s work are given.
• At 7.30 work begins.
• From 11.30 to 13.30 the midday meal is eaten in shifts.
• At 16.00 work ends.
• From 16.30 to 16.45 the evening wash is carried out.
• From 16.45 to 17.45 supper is served.
• From 17.50 to 21.30 prisoners are occupied either with lessons in the school or with general political work; this includes reading the newspapers.
• At 22.00 the prisoners go to bed.

Prisoners are not allowed to idle just because the work-day has ended. There are only two options for them. Either they participate in the political-cultural work, or they go to school.

The core of the general political-cultural work is study circles or lectures on various topics, but the prerequisite is reading one or more newspapers, and Soviet newspapers are weighty and factual. They cannot in any way be compared to the press we know here in this country.

Study circle leaders and lecturers usually come from outside. Various enterprises have taken on sponsorship of the camp, and the administration cooperates with these enterprises in many ways, among other things also to procure lecturers and study circle leaders. Often, skilled workers from the sponsoring enterprises come to the camp and give lectures, participate in discussions, lead study circles, or otherwise contribute to the political-cultural work.

I asked for examples of topics for the political-cultural work, and they mentioned at random:

• The morality of the Soviet man.
• The Communist Party's program.
• Factors that lead to crimes.
• The development of technology and science.
• The world political situation.

A worker from a sponsoring enterprise, one of the best, had given a lecture on what can and must be done to realise the demands of the new party program regarding the transition to communism. Another had spoken about the measures necessary to implement the seven-year plan.

Once a week, there is a political hour on current political questions.

In the camp, there is compulsory school education outside working hours for all who are under 50 years old and who have not at least completed an 8-year elementary school. The prisoners subject to compulsory schooling consequently do not participate in the general cultural and political work except to the extent it is compatible with their education. Of the entire inmate population, about 50 percent actually participate in the compulsory education in the school. As far as I recall, there are eighteen teachers in the school, and work is done in 30 classrooms. In some classrooms there are prisoners who study or do assignments without a teacher present. The school program and the rules that apply to the school are the same as those applicable to regular schools.

The eleven-year curriculum that is now being introduced in the Soviet Union can be completed in prison. If a prisoner completes it, he is awarded a diploma from the Ministry of Education just like everyone else, a qualification roughly equivalent to our high school diploma.

The prisoner can apply for the entrance exam to the university or other higher education institution, where he receives free education and a salary during his studies. There are former prisoners who are now doctors and engineers or hold other responsible positions in the Soviet Union.

The prisoner may sit the entrance examination for the university or any other institution of higher education, where he will receive free tuition and a salary while he studies. There are former prisoners who are now doctors and engineers or hold other positions of responsibility in the Soviet Union.

I had a conversation with the school's leader, who stated, among other things, that he could not observe any difference between the prisoners' intelligence level and that of regular students.

Apart from the general school education, vocational further education of the prisoners takes place in connection with work in the camp's large metal enterprises. It is a basic principle of the camp that all prisoners without vocational training must receive such training. They can be trained in the camp as mechanics, metalworkers, and in other trades within the metal industry.

If they already have vocational education, it must be improved, and it is an absolute rule of the camp’s operation that no one who is at all qualified to receive education and vocational training may leave the camp without being better qualified to take part in production than when they were admitted.

The vocational training takes place partly at the workplace and partly in a small vocational school attached to the camp. There are instructors employed who handle the prisoners' vocational training according to a program that is laid out for each prisoner immediately upon admission based on available information about vocational education at the time of admission.

There are a number of invalids and mentally disabled and other work-impaired persons in the camp. They work according to ability and are occupied in accordance with their own wishes, for example with gardening. They can participate in education and cultural-political work or not, as they themselves wish.

The administration may recommend a prisoner for parole when his conduct in the camp, his diligence, competence and behaviour warrant it. The recommendation is submitted to the court that sentenced the prisoner to placement in a correctional camp, and upon receipt of the recommendation the court convenes inside the camp itself, where the prisoner’s circumstances are examined and verified by the court. If the court issues an order for parole, a most careful follow-up support programme is arranged and carried out. Employment is found for the individual, and the workers at the enterprise where he is employed supervise him and support and assist the parolee in every possible way, and they submit reports to the camp on his situation.

The prisoner who is released on probation after serving his sentence does not lose connection with the camp. On the contrary, the camp is responsible for ensuring that the person is placed in a socially stimulating environment. The camp can only live up to this responsibility because here, too, there is close cooperation between the camp and the enterprise where the prisoner is employed after release.

During the conversation, they showed me the most recent reports from workplaces about released prisoners. I asked for a translation of a randomly selected report. This report is dated September 29, 1962, and it reads as follows:

... Smirnov came to the enterprise after his release, and he proved to be a disciplined worker. He has fulfilled all assigned work tasks at 140 to 150 percent, and qualitatively his work is of the highest class. He is eager to help young workers with their work. He works as a milling machine operator in our department for diving equipment. He participates both in evening education and in the public life of his department….

This randomly selected report is signed by the relevant enterprise's manager, the chairman of the party cell at the enterprise, and the chairman of the trade union's local club.

The camp’s industrial operations are closed in large factory buildings. In the camp I saw, items belonging to the light-metal industry were produced: household goods and kitchen utensils, motorcycle parts, oil filters and the like. In addition, the camp has an attached garden that grows vegetables for its own consumption.

Responsibility for discipline and order rests first and foremost with the prisoners' council, which I have mentioned before. There is pronounced self-government, which the prisoners exercise through the councils. The disciplinary measures the councils have at their disposal are summoning the prisoner to a meeting in the council or a committee thereof, issuance of warnings and reprimands, which, among other things, are brought to all prisoners' knowledge via the wall newspaper, so that they have the opportunity to keep an eye on the prisoner who has offended against the camp's rules of order. These rules are such that the prisoners themselves have acknowledged their reasonableness and necessity.

If these more comradely measures do not work, the administration can bring various sharper disciplinary punishments into use.

Firstly, the prisoner can for a specified period be denied the right to purchase tobacco, canned goods, and other extra provisions in the camp's shop.

Secondly, visitation rights can be denied for a set time.

Thirdly, the prisoner can be denied the right to receive extra provisions from relatives for a set period.

Fourthly, the administration can place the prisoner in a punishment cell, but only outside working hours and for no more than fifteen days.

But the administration cannot only impose disciplinary punishments. It can also reward positive behaviour. These rewards consist of privileges.

Firstly, the prisoner can be given the right to freer use than otherwise prescribed of the money he earns through his work in the camp.

Secondly, he can get the right to individual visits from his wife, family, work comrades, and other relatives. Such individual visits can extend up to three days.

Thirdly, the administration can recommend probationary release.

The fourth and highest privilege that can be given to a prisoner who is not deemed to pose any danger to the legal security of society is the administration's recommendation of a petition to the supreme court for the annulment of the criminal case.

If an order for annulment of the case is subsequently issued, the sentence lapses, all documents concerning the case are destroyed, all entries in public registers are deleted, and the prisoner obtains in every respect the status of a person who has not previously been convicted.

If the disciplinary measures available to the prisoners' council and the administration are not effective, the administration can submit a recommendation to the court to issue an order for transfer from the camp to a closed prison. This measure can only be used in consultation with the district soviet's committee for public order, and in fact, such recommendations are almost never made.

The prisoners are paid exactly like workers with similar employment in ordinary production, but deductions are made to cover the costs of staying in the camp. The wages are credited to the prisoner and paid out upon release. During the stay in the camp, the prisoner can buy for 10 rubles—something like DKK 70-80 [roughly RMB 1,000 in 2024-prices] —per month in the camp's shop, and as a privilege, he can get the right to use up to 20 rubles monthly.

The prisoners sleep in large dormitories in bunk beds with spring mattresses. They have next to their bed a bookcase with private books and school books.

In the camp, there is a library of 8,000 volumes. Furthermore, books can be borrowed from ordinary libraries. There is both non-fiction, political literature, and fiction. A great deal of work is done to guide the prisoners in their reading. To keep up with the political and cultural life in the camp, prisoners must be diligent newspaper readers, and there is ample opportunity for this, as the camp subscribes to 60 different newspapers, which are available for the prisoners' use.

Three daily meals are eaten in the camp in a common dining hall. In it, there is a notice about the ingredients that must at minimum be included in the daily food provision in one form or another. Furthermore, there is posted a meal plan for the current week, and it shows day by day how the dietary components the prisoners are entitled to are included in the meals. According to the first notice, each prisoner must daily have at least 700 grams of bread, at least 50 grams of meat, at least 85 grams of fish, at least 400 grams of potatoes, at least 250 grams of vegetables, and at least 110 grams of various grains. The notice lists fourteen different dietary components that must be given each day.

The prisoner may receive visits from relatives and work colleagues. If he wishes, he may wear his own clothes during the visit, as he is generally permitted to do outside working hours. Normal visits are held in a common room, with the prisoner and visitor separated by two counters spaced about one meter apart. Prisoners are allowed to exchange letters with their relatives.

Only minor illnesses are treated in the camp. There is an infirmary with a number of beds, as well as isolation rooms for prisoners suspected of infectious diseases. The principle, however, is that all real illnesses must be treated at a hospital. Upon admission to the camp, a thorough medical examination of the prisoner is conducted. A meticulous health record is created for him and is maintained with great accuracy throughout his stay. There is also a dental clinic where all dental treatment is provided, and dentures are also fabricated if necessary. The greatest emphasis is placed on preventive dentistry.

If a prisoner should wish to complain about the conditions in the camp, he has the right to contact, in writing and without censorship, any of the authorities connected to the camp in any way, including the district soviet.

The information I have reproduced was conveyed to me primarily during a long conversation in the camp's office with its three senior officials. Once this conversation concluded, a tour was conducted.

First, I saw the production department where, as mentioned, metal goods are manufactured in large premises—from spoons to parts for motorcycles and engines. I do not have the expertise to comment on this aspect of the camp's operations. I do not understand the fabrication of metal goods. There were many large rooms; lathes were spinning, punch presses were noisy, stamping and riveting were happening, and apparently, everything that should happen in such an enterprise was taking place.

I have brought some items from the production to this country, and I have shown them to experts who declare the products satisfactory. I can say no more about it. To me, everything looked appealing and up-to-date.”

From the production department we went to the residential section, where the prisoners live their lives when they are not working. The general impression was appealing. It was sunny, and the prisoners, who were waiting to go to the dining hall, were basking in the sunshine on benches in a neat and well-maintained garden area between the buildings. Everywhere, notices and wall newspapers could be seen. There were notices about prisoners who had distinguished themselves in production or in other ways, but there were also drawings and notices alluding to prisoners who had not behaved satisfactorily. Those who slacked off, smoked in the dormitories, were careless with production, etc., were called out in an easily understandable way.

I inspected the dormitories, occupancy rooms with bunk beds. Loudspeakers and the prisoners' private book collections were seen by each bed. I walked over to a random bookshelf and took out some of the books in the order in which they stood. There was a German textbook, a presentation of the Soviet Union's history, a book on the basis of Darwinism, a trigonometry textbook, and a collection of short stories by Chekhov.

We walked through the medical unit and inspected the wards. There were no patients apart from a few prisoners: one had a cold, one had crushed a hand, one had a bruised leg. There were no actual sick people. I greeted the nurses, saw the doctor’s office, the dental clinic, and whatever else a medical unit might contain.

Next we were in a large clubroom with space for 400 prisoners. There was a theatre stage where, as part of cultural life, the prisoners put on amateur plays. There was an operator’s room for use during film screenings.

The library was closed for repairs, but I saw it. In addition to the book stacks there were cosy reading rooms and notices about books especially recommended to the prisoners.

In the shop, I noted a rich stock of extra provisions. One could buy bread, canned goods, pickled herring, cakes, tobacco including the famous makhorka, and all sorts of other such items found in such outlets. The transaction process was demonstrated. One does not buy with cash, but the amount is deducted from the prisoners' account and a voucher is issued that can be used for purchases in the shop. This is done so that purchases are not made with cash money originating from relatives.

We went through the school. Classrooms, equipped like a Danish rural school in my childhood, were filled with prisoners sitting on school benches, belonging to the shift that was not working in production. In one room I entered, Russian was being taught, and in another room, prisoners were solving geometry problems. A vocational school was installed in rather primitive premises in a basement, but most instruction took place at the workplace.

In the visitation room, two rows of benches were seen for the prisoners and their visitors. Adjoining this room were a dozen visitation rooms for the mentioned individual visits given as a reward. All these rooms were occupied, which was marked by a hung sign. We knocked and entered one of the rooms where a prisoner had a visit from his wife. They were in the process of cooking on a hotplate. The room was small and sparsely equipped with a table, chairs, and an iron bed. There is no control with these individual visits. The visitors stay overnight.

Adjoining the dining hall was the kitchen, which I inspected.

Dinner was being prepared for the prisoners, and I was served the two dishes that the meal consisted of. One dish was a porridge-soup boiled with meat and cabbage; a decent piece of meat came with the portion. The other dish was stewed together with meat, cabbage and potatoes and had a Russian name I don’t remember. I have spent more than two years in Danish prisons and prison camps during the war. If the food I received on October 5th reflects the normal standard, then I can say with certainty that it is far better than the prisoner fare was in Vestre Prison. The dinner I got was excellent and well prepared. The kitchen was neat and clean in every way. We were not let in without first putting on a white coat.

I won’t list every place I was shown, but I walked through the entire camp and displayed the most intrusive curiosity. Yet, as promised, every door opened for me. The last thing I saw was the solitary confinement unit, where disciplinary punishment was served outside working hours for up to fifteen days. It probably says something about this camp that only two prisoners were in solitary confinement, and even then only for a very short time. In this section the cells have a little light, a wooden bench and a wooden plank-bed. The prisoner in solitary confinement sleeps on a hard bed.

So, my overall impression is that while the buildings and inventory are inferior to what we are used to, in all other ways this camp beats Danish standards.

But at the same time it must be stressed that the treatment prisoners are able to receive in the Soviet Union, the rational methods, the co-operation between prisoners and administration, the possibility of having cases annulled, the schooling, the wages, the productive work-training and all the other gratifying and impressive things, all of this presupposes the socialist form of society.

I am by no means praising the foreign to indirectly criticize Danish prisons. I am no fan of preventive detention institutions, but otherwise I believe that Danish prison staff often do their work with diligence. It should not be a reproach against them that we do not have social conditions that make a prisoner treatment like the one I came to know in this camp near Moscow on October 5, 1962 possible.

We now return to the case against the prison guards, to our domestic conditions, where the core problem probably is that there is no fixed boundary between the norms of respectable business life and the provisions on fraud and embezzlement in the penal code. In our country some people are sent to prison for performing acts that are virtually indistinguishable from those for which others are honoured and decorated.

In the socialist countries there are neither employers, manufacturers, factory owners, nor rent-squeezing landlords, so there it is easier to figure out what is crime and what is business.

As I overheard an exchange between two farmers on the train to the Bellahøj fair when they passed Vridsløse [state prison]:

“That’s Vridsløse.”

“Yeah, a lot of crooks sit in there.”

“Sure, but even more drive past.”

But in the socialist countries the crooks don’t drive at all.

[^1]: Those who want to know a little about these neuroses and who can work their way through an English book may profit from reading Karen Horney: Neurosis and Human Growth , London 1951. Of interest is a paper written by the assistant senior physician at the Horsens preventive-detention institution, Tofte, in Nordic Journal of Criminal Science , 1963, p. 325. It is titled “On ‘Vicious Circles’ in Detainees.”

[^2]: The same column has been broadcast on Danish state radio.

[^3]: By the Ministry of Justice, which as an exception permitted the visit. Such permits are rarely given.

[^4]: In the GDR—the German Democratic Republic—only a fraction of the prisons' capacity is utilised.