The first human spaceflights inspired visions of humanity transformed by exploring, colonizing, and thriving in space. Some even wondered, as American poet Archibald MacLeish did upon witnessing the first human orbit of the Moon in December 1968, if human space exploration “may remake our image of mankind.” To MacLeish, a new notion of humanity’s place in the universe had taken shape “in the minds of heroic voyagers who were also men.”1 A half century since humanity pushed one of its own out of this Earthly nest, there seems to be a pervasive sense of disappointment that such visions have gone unfulfilled. As Walter A. McDougall wrote in 2007, “any global consciousness or Spaceship Earth mentality inspired by astronautics has worked no metamorphosis in national or international affairs.”2 But even as these visions of the human future transformed fade into the past, our increasing knowledge of how space exploration narratives were deployed as cold war instruments compels us to take a second look.
This chapter examines how astronauts and cosmonauts were represented in two monthly propaganda magazines between 1961 and 1981. The U.S. Information Agency (USIA) produced the Russian language Amerika Illiustrirovannoye (America Illustrated) for distribution in the Soviet Union, and the Soviet Embassy in Washington, DC, published the English language Soviet Life for distribution in the United States.3 The first issues appeared on Soviet and American newsstands in October 1956. As flagship publications, both were attractive, visually stimulating, large-format, glossy magazines printed on high-quality paper and featuring many black-and-white and full-color images. By all accounts, Amerika was far more popular with its intended audience as long lines often formed to purchase the magazine. Soviet Life never achieved similar appeal with the American public.4 As official publications, they provide excellent insight into how the Soviet and American governments communicated their visions of space exploration with each other’s publics.
The superpowers clearly saw the value of human spaceflight for publicizing their core values to all humankind. Official propaganda on both sides embraced the prediction that space exploration would profoundly refashion humanity. They cast their space explorers as symbols of what they hoped that transformation would bring. Both magazines strongly associated their space explorers with peace and progress. The shared emphasis on peace was likely a practical response to the perils of nuclear war. Progress was one of the central ideals of the Enlightenment, the philosophical movement to which both the United States and the Soviet Union traced their political heritage. Differing conceptions of peace and progress, however, caused the two countries’ representations of space explorers to diverge. Whereas Soviet Life cast cosmonauts as symbols of peace and progress because of their close ties with socialism and the Soviet state, Amerika claimed astronauts signified peace and progress because they personified American freedom and openness.
MacLeish’s remark that human space exploration “may remake our image of mankind” elegantly summarizes how the two magazines cast space explorers as heroic humans and personifications of peace and progress who would ultimately transform the human experience. This chapter first discusses how they—the cosmonauts and astronauts—were portrayed in the two magazines. Second, it examines how both publications expected the space explorers to remake humanity. Finally, it looks at how official representations of astronauts and cosmonauts were colored by the divergent images of mankind held by the Soviet and American governments.
“They …”
Both Soviet Life and Amerika routinely portrayed space explorers as embodying both extraordinary heroic and ordinary human characteristics. Employing narratives of danger, courage, and sacrifice, both magazines used representations of heroic space explorers to portray the heroic nation. Hero narratives, in particular, underscored the grand significance of human spaceflight and suggested that these feats had captured the attention of the world. In their extensive coverage of the many celebrations and ceremonies exalting space explorers as heroes, both magazines asserted that these heroes personified national ideals and routinely associated them with their nation’s political leaders and institutions. Such a nexus between heroic individuals and their nations implied that leadership in space translated to present and future national leadership on Earth.
Yuri Gagarin’s inaugural human spaceflight on April 12, 1961, set the stage for Soviet veneration of cosmonaut heroes. His milestone voyage shifted the emphasis of Soviet space propaganda from robotic to human exploration.5 Soviet Life not only provided detailed accounts of the mission but also covered the many postflight celebrations honoring the first cosmonaut. Its coverage often echoed Soviet domestic propaganda, which declared that the cosmonauts were symbols of the “triumph of socialism.”6 A celebration of Gagarin held on April 14 in Red Square became the blueprint for honoring subsequent cosmonauts. An embrace between Gagarin and Soviet leader Nikita Khrushchev on the roof of Lenin’s Mausoleum also initiated a tradition of striving publicly to associate the Soviet leadership with the heroic cosmonauts.7 With later flights, Soviet Life similarly gave extensive coverage to the events held to honor cosmonauts.8 These articles strongly associated the space heroes with Soviet officialdom via quotations from distinguished speakers and photographs lush with Soviet emblems. Recurrent images of cosmonauts dressed for the formalities in their military uniforms cemented the link between the heroes and the state.9 Even articles on the Communist Party’s 22nd Congress in the fall of 1961 highlighted the participation of cosmonauts Gagarin and Gherman Titov.10 Other articles regularly associated the cosmonauts with other Soviet social institutions, such as schools or the Young Pioneers.11
Amerika pursued a similar tack, routinely reporting on the media coverage of human spaceflight launches, as well as astronauts’ postflight celebrations and meetings with the press. The magazine showcased the freedom of the American press by highlighting the American space program’s openness to the media. It frequently emphasized, for example, how American space preparations and flights were conducted “in full view” of the world’s press and often reported on how American space launches were “swarming with reporters and photographers” from across the world.12 Images of the American astronauts greeting members of the press were characterized by their informality and by the presence of cameras.13 Alongside frequent images of astronauts being feted in ticker tape parades, these portrayals linked the American free press to the heroism of the space explorers.14
Routine coverage of postflight events, where the American astronauts were bestowed official accolades, established strong links between the heroic space explorers and the nation. A wide-angled shot of the Apollo 11 astronauts’ September 16, 1969, address before a joint session of Congress reinforced the link between the astronauts, political institutions, and cherished national symbols by centering the eagle adorning the ceiling of the House chamber. The accompanying text quoted House Speaker John McCormack’s statement that the astronauts “represent the best in America.”15 One common pose showed astronauts (and sometimes cosmonauts) in front of the Capitol Building in Washington, DC.16 Even more common were photographs of astronauts ritually making phone calls to, or shaking hands with, the president. Often still wearing their flight suits, the astronauts thus made contact with the president at the culmination of their heroic journeys.17
Both magazines frequently employed danger narratives describing the hazards of human spaceflight—from the uncomfortable to the life threatening. These highlighted space explorers’ heroism by focusing on the great physical and psychological demands that spaceflight posed and by typically discussing how only the “best men” were suitable candidates for spaceflight. Danger narratives often also highlighted the many other heroes at work behind the scenes to ensure the space explorers’ safety. They thus helped transfer the space explorers’ heroism to the broader society.
Both publications also emphasized the space explorers’ courage as they responded to the great demands and grave dangers posed by spaceflight. They repeatedly used keywords like calm, comfortable, relaxed, businesslike, and professional to depict space explorers as skilled and capable, performing flawlessly under great duress, and handling adversity with smooth poise. Such an emphasis enhanced their heroic representations of cosmonauts and astronauts while implying that these character traits were as much national as they were individual.
For Soviet Life, which was far less open to discuss a mission’s difficulties, the training centrifuge commonly served as a symbol of the difficulties and dangers the cosmonauts faced.18 Amerika, in contrast, routinely emphasized the perilous journey into space. In doing so, it furthered the suggestion that the American media enjoyed open access to National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA). The magazine openly acknowledged Gus Grissom’s “unforeseen accident” aboard Liberty Bell 7, the “unexpected crisis” John Glenn faced aboard Friendship 7, Scott Carpenter’s “continuously troubled flight” aboard Aurora 7, and the failure of the automatic reentry systems during Gordon Cooper’s Faith 7 voyage.19 Its articles on human space missions almost always featured photographs of the astronauts’ recovery by helicopter after splashdown.20 Amerika’s frequent discussion of the Mobile Quarantine Facility used after Apollo 11 underlined the unknown dangers of human space exploration. It also demonstrated the American government’s concern for the safety of all humankind by showing its effort to, as one article put it, “protect the world from contamination by any possible ‘moon germs.’ ”21
The treatment of space explorers’ fatalities was a key part of both magazines’ danger narratives. Perhaps befitting his prominence as the first cosmonaut, Soviet Life gave far more attention to Yuri Gagarin’s March 27, 1968, death in a training jet crash than either magazine gave to the seven other space explorers who perished in the line of work between 1967 and 1971.22 When cosmonauts or astronauts died, memorials in both magazines portrayed their deaths as courageous “sacrifices” made in pursuit of “human progress.” They accentuated the fallen space explorer’s heroism by predicting the immortality of their names and by noting that their sacrifice had made them “a special kind of human.”23 By pointing out space explorers’ ultimate vulnerability to the perils of space travel, danger narratives thus emphasized both sides of the heroic human duality.
Both publications strove to emphasize that their space explorers were not just heroes but also ordinary human beings. Showing the human side of the space explorers strengthened their bonds with their collective societies while increasing their global appeal by connecting them to all of humanity. These narratives of ordinariness built upon a recurrent motif of unity positing that “all mankind” shared in the space explorers’ heroic journeys. They thus implied that the world united behind the leadership of the space-faring nations.
In both publications, photographs of astronauts and cosmonauts universally showed them smiling, a detail that made them appear more likeable, friendly, and appealing and also added to their peaceful image.24 In the same vein, both magazines also highlighted the space explorers’ senses of humor, often portraying them joking among themselves or with others.25 Amerika also portrayed the astronauts having fun in space, describing them bounding like kangaroos on the Moon’s surface, or taking a playful approach to eating in zero gravity. To underline the human connection, Amerika even explicitly made the point that the Apollo 11 astronauts on the Moon’s surface were actual men and not “toys”—as they may have appeared on television.26 The reference to live broadcasts of the moonwalk also reminded readers that they did not share in the historic event. On Soviet television, only the splashdown was broadcast live.
To accentuate the space explorers’ ordinariness, both publications commonly focused on their emotional responses to spaceflight, including their awe at the sensory experiences and philosophical implications of their journeys. Routine portrayals of astronauts and cosmonauts being too excited to sleep or eat further accentuated their human nature by emphasizing the necessities of human life. Regular discussions of their loneliness in space likewise made them appear more normal. Loneliness narratives further underlined their connection with humanity back on Earth since the mentioned remedies for loneliness almost always included communications with colleagues or thoughts of family and friends at home.27
Another important aspect of both magazines’ ordinariness narratives focused on portraying the space explorers’ families. Images in Soviet Life far more frequently showed the cosmonauts at home with their families while accompanying texts emphasized their dedication to home life.28 Such a focus demonstrated how representations of Soviet cosmonauts purposefully illustrated the Moral Code of the New Soviet Man, a unique aspect of Soviet social planning to be discussed later. Amerika concentrated more on showing how the astronauts’ families shared in the spaceflight experience, most often by showing them watching their husbands’ and fathers’ space journeys on television.29 That such sharing signaled the openness of American society was underlined in a photo in the August 1962 issue showing astronaut Scott Carpenter lifting his son Robin to look into the open hatch of the Aurora 7 capsule, which was, according to the caption, “on display near the launch site.”30
Portrayals of space explorers’ families and home life accentuated their ordinariness. But highlighting their traditional roles as fathers and husbands also underlined the space explorers’ masculinity, an emphasis both magazines routinely made. Soviet Life, for example, frequently depicted the cosmonauts in training or in other lifestyle settings that showed off their muscular physiques.31 Amerika did the same but showcased the astronauts’ masculinity in other ways too. It often charted the growth of the astronaut’s beards during their space voyages, for example.32
Of course, not all cosmonauts in this period were men. The June 1963 flight of the world’s first female space traveler, Valentina Tereshkova, set another milestone for Soviet “manned” spaceflight. She was the only female cosmonaut to fly until nineteen years later. Despite this fact, Soviet propaganda proclaimed her flight, as Chief Designer Sergei Korolev described it to Soviet journalists, “one of the most striking demonstrations of the equality of Soviet women.”33 As much as her male colleagues performed as models of the New Soviet Man, Tereshkova symbolized a New Soviet Woman. Her representation was thus unique among Soviet cosmonauts. In Soviet Life, her image essentially retreated over time from the heroic domain to the human one, as her role as a wife and mother eventually displaced her role as a cosmonaut. According to an August 1963 article reporting on her spaceflight: “Valya Tereshkova is really two girls: one in orange coveralls, the other in a sky blue dress.”34
Soviet Life’s representations of her soon exchanged her orange coveralls for civilian clothes. A photograph taken of the Soviet cosmonauts atop the Lenin Mausoleum appearing in the January 1964 issue pictured her both among her male colleagues and set apart from them by her attire. She was the only one in the group not wearing a military uniform (Figure 1).35 Elsewhere in the same issue she wore a bridal gown, as the magazine celebrated her marriage to fellow cosmonaut Andrian Nikolayev.36 A playfully titled article in October 1965 illustrated how giving birth to a “cosmotot” signaled the transformation of her identity from cosmonaut to “cosmonette.”37 By October 1970 the previously exalted first woman in space was no longer portrayed as a cosmonaut and not even referred to by her well-known name. As the caption to a photo of her with daughter Elena indicated, she was now simply “Andrian Nikolayev’s wife.”38 Emphasizing Tereshkova’s domestic roles reflected a Soviet retreat from gender egalitarianism as traditional gender divisions resurged during the Brezhnev period.39 Even at the height of her fame, when she was predominantly cast as a symbol of Soviet egalitarianism, there was a wide gulf between official propaganda about her and the sexism she and the other female cosmonauts faced behind the scenes.40
FIGURE 1. Cosmonauts (from left to right) Pavel Popovich, Andrian Nikolayev, Gherman Titov, Valentina Tereshkova, Yuri Gagarin, and Valery Bykovsky atop Lenin’s Mausoleum in Red Square for a June 22, 1963, celebration honoring the recent spaceflights of Tereshkova and Bykovsky. Note their friendly smiles, military attire, and how Valentina Tereshkova is set apart from the men by her civilian clothes. The photograph appeared in Oleg Ivanov, “Cosmonaut’s Joke—Photo of the Month,” Soviet Life, January 1964, 37. Courtesy ITAR-TASS News Agency/Vladimir Savostyanov; Vasily Yegorov.
“… May Remake …”
Both the United States and the Soviet Union were born in revolutions. At their core, the foundational ideals of both were based on a belief in profound social transformation. In turn, this revolutionary impulse emerged from the Enlightenment of the eighteenth century, when European philosophers sought to apply scientific reason to reform society in the name of progress. In the twentieth century, as the two superpowers took to space, their propaganda expressed a shared vision of the power of human space exploration to transform humanity. They both frequently described human spaceflight as a turning point in history and the beginning of a new era. They related it to epochal shifts in human evolution and presented it as the next step in that evolution. In doing so, they both predicted an ambitious future of a broad human presence in space that would revolutionize the human experience. The two nations had differing ideas about how humankind would be transformed, and these divergent values shaped the two magazines’ representations of humans in space.
The frequency and descriptive detail of these visions of the future of human spaceflight reached a climax in both magazines in the late 1960s and early 1970s.41 In Amerika, the peak came immediately following Apollo 11. Despite Nixon’s call for a “bold” yet “balanced” approach to space exploration in the 1970s, the magazine eschewed balance to emphasize a highly ambitious vision of humankind’s future in space, led by the United States.42 It thus sought to capitalize on the attention garnered by the historic lunar landing to propose that the United States would continue to make “giant leaps for all mankind” for generations to come.43 Its representations of future astronauts implied that the free and open flow of ideas was essential to bring about peace and progress. Routine articles on the prospects of human spaceflight promised great things, and their realism and detail contrasted American openness against the secrecy of the Soviet space program.44
Soviet Life’s images of the future were far less concrete, far more idealistic, dreamlike, and fantastical than American ones, but no less transformative and no less convinced that the future would bring a vast expansion and intensification of the human presence in space. Instead of giant leaps, the magazine emphasized a graduated and “multipurpose” Soviet approach based on “consistency” and “progress by stages.”45 As late as July 1968, it still suggested that a piloted Soviet lunar landing was in the works.46 But beginning with the August 1969 issue, which applauded Apollo 11, a series of articles put forward the idea that Soviet planners had long since decided that robotic probes were superior for exploring the Moon and other bodies.47 In spite of this argument and the increased verve with which the magazine celebrated Soviet robotic probes during these years, Soviet Life never abandoned putting humans front and center in its narratives of present and future exploration of space.48 Indeed, with its Soyuz series of missions, the Soviet space program had maintained a relatively continuous human presence in Earth orbit after late 1968. Even in its coverage of robotic probes, Soviet Life routinely noted how the ability to perform a “soft landing” was a significant step toward human voyages to the Moon, Mars, Venus, and beyond.49 It also focused on portraying space stations functioning as “spaceports” for interplanetary human voyages.50
Narratives of an imminent and grand human presence in space were critical to justifying both sides’ routine propaganda claims that human spaceflight milestones marked turning points ushering in a new era in history.51 Predictions of a pronounced transformation of humanity increased the significance of past and present achievements and the efficacy of the propaganda that celebrated them. As the living, breathing actors turning the page of this history, cosmonauts and astronauts were integral to both magazines’ narratives of how space exploration would remake humanity. As both publications rhetorically emphasized, these explorers were simply the first humans to venture into space. As “pioneers” exploring a “new frontier” they broke a path that all humanity was inevitably, both publications enthusiastically predicted, soon to follow.52
Both magazines used representations of space explorers to illustrate how their values would lead humanity through the profound transformative process underway. Adopting many of the rationales and assumptions of space advocates, both publications’ narratives of the future argued emphatically that human spaceflight would bring many positive benefits and would greatly contribute to peace and progress on Earth.53 These too echoed Enlightenment beliefs that linked scientific discovery with social advancement.
Strongly associating space explorers with science served both the peace and progress themes. Both publications claimed science to be an inherently peaceful activity and emphasized its international character. These assumptions underscored their nation’s leadership of the world scientific community and presented space activities as a benefit to all humanity. Both magazines described human spaceflight deriving incalculable benefits, including new knowledge, new resources, new industries, and new technologies. They both also argued that a nation’s scientific, technological, and economic capabilities were essential for exploiting the potential boon of human spaceflight. Representations of cosmonauts and astronauts played a key role in demonstrating these capabilities.
Amerika commonly used science to justify its claims that human space exploration was vital by arguing that human operation and oversight of space experiments made for better science. It frequently discussed the scientific training and activities of American astronauts. Some of the most prominently placed images drew attention to American astronauts wielding scientific instruments on the Moon. It often described the astronauts’ efforts to obtain lunar specimens, which served as important symbols of American openness in repeated discussions of how they were shared with the international scientific community on Earth. The magazine’s invariable emphasis on sharing other scientific data and detailed reports of the United States’ current and future scientific space missions likewise underscored the notion of American openness.54
Although Soviet Life’s articles on robotic lunar probes in the late 1960s argued that such mechanistic exploration of space made for safer and cheaper science, over the longer term the magazine strove to depict cosmonauts’ key role in scientific aspects of the Soviet space program. It frequently emphasized their scientific training, invariably highlighted the scientific experiments they performed in space, and sometimes even referred to them as “scientist-cosmonauts.”55 Soviet Life was far more nebulous than its American counterpart, however, about the precise nature of the science performed during Soviet human spaceflights. Cosmonauts frequently discussed vaguely making observations, performing experiments, and collecting data, but without further detail.56
To fully depict human spaceflight as a peaceful endeavor, it was vital for space explorers and their nations to be seen embracing a cooperative spirit. According to the two magazines, this would prevent earthly tensions from spreading into space and would reduce duplication of effort as humanity faced the great expenses and challenges of exploring the planets and beyond. Both magazines expressed support for cooperation on human spaceflight long before the highly symbolic July 1975 Apollo-Soyuz Test Project (ASTP) joint mission was conceived. Over several years of ongoing dialogue before the May 1972 agreement for a joint flight, both publications explicitly endorsed space cooperation and reported favorably on the more limited joint agreements not involving direct collaboration between cosmonauts and astronauts.
Just as astronauts and cosmonauts provided the vital hands for ASTP’s emblematic “handshake in space,” they also played a key role in opening the door to cooperation, through their professional contacts and friendly relations over the years. Throughout the 1960s and 1970s, whenever astronauts and cosmonauts visited each other’s countries, both magazines invariably covered their exchanges and portrayed them as friendly meetings.57 These reports encouraged the further deepening of professional ties since these exchanges were typically portrayed as strengthening peace or increasing “mutual understanding.” Many articles highlighting their joint preparations for ASTP cast them in central roles as ambassadors, colleagues, and friends.58
Over the years of discussion preceding the ASTP agreement, American officials consistently took the lead in pursuing cooperation in human spaceflight while becoming increasingly concerned that Soviet secrecy would preclude doing so.59 Openness was a key issue in the effort to undertake a joint human spaceflight since participation in such a mission would require the Soviets to offer American astronauts and technicians unprecedented access to their space program. Drawing attention to American openness, Amerika sometimes mentioned how visiting cosmonauts had been invited to visit NASA facilities but had politely declined since they could not reciprocate by inviting astronauts to Baikonur.60 Even during ASTP preparations, as Roald Sagdeev has reported, Soviet officials undertook deceptions to prevent American officials from perceiving the Soviet space program’s relationship with the military establishment. Soviet military officers overseeing the space program wore civilian clothes, for example, and falsely claimed to defer authority to the Academy of Sciences.61
ASTP was one of the most prominent symbols of détente.62 Reflecting this political context, both publications downplayed the ideological differences and animosities between the two countries in their coverage of the joint flight and the nearly three years of preflight preparations. They concentrated instead on certain key “compatibility issues,” such as language, air pressure differences between the two space capsules, and the docking mechanism. The language issue especially highlighted the human dimension of the mission and put the crew front and center in the overarching narrative of finding “mutual understanding.” The reciprocal agreement that cosmonauts would use English and astronauts use Russian during the flight was repeatedly noted. The language issue, like the handshake, cast individual space explorers as symbols of their countries’ willingness to overlook ideological differences and build a reciprocal relationship. In such a symbolic framework, improvements in interpersonal relations between astronauts and cosmonauts were portrayed as significant steps toward the advancement of human progress and the achievement of global peace. To this end, both magazines showcased the ASTP crew’s comments on how their individual relations became closer over time and especially highlighted those remarks that hinted at such an analogy between the interpersonal and international dimensions.63 Representations of cosmonauts and astronauts were thus fundamental to demonstrating the scientific and cooperative, peaceful, and progressive nature of each nation’s space program.
“… Our Image of Mankind”
The core beliefs and values of the two superpowers formed and shaped their image of humanity and of human spaceflight. Both magazines’ emphatic use of the peace and progress motifs points to some commonalities in the Soviet and American historical trajectories. The two countries’ political ideals shared a common ancestor in Enlightenment notions of progress achieved through applying scientific reason to reform society. In the cold war, they were both also the key agents of humankind’s potential “mutually assured destruction” in a nuclear conflict, hence their desire to underline a message of peace. Both sides strongly associated human spaceflight with peace and progress, but their deviating definitions of those ideals led them to differing representations of cosmonauts and astronauts. Divergent ideologies thus shaped the way that the two magazines depicted space explorers remaking “our image of mankind.”
Soviet Life’s conceptions of peace and progress were distinctly defined in relation to socialism. In Soviet rhetoric, peace and socialism were considered indivisible. In Soviet discourse, the “struggle for peace” thus equated with the “struggle for socialism,” and the goal of “world peace” similarly meant “world socialism.”64 “Peaceful coexistence” was perhaps the most prominent slogan of Soviet propaganda and international discourse during the first few decades of space exploration.65 Soviet officials repeatedly clarified that the term did not lessen the ideological struggle against capitalism. On the contrary, it meant that the struggle should shift from the military arena to economic, cultural, scientific, and technological forms of competition.66 Capitalism—frequently labeled “imperialism”—was considered the principal enemy of peace, and the Soviet state claimed to protect Soviet citizens from the “imperialist aggressor,” which often meant “American aggression” and “militarists.”67
Both space exploration and propaganda played prominent roles in the struggle for peaceful coexistence. In Soviet propaganda about space exploration, cosmonauts thus played a vital role in projecting the regime’s commitment to peace. Soviet Life explicitly linked Yuri Gagarin’s historic spaceflight with “the sacred cause of peace.” Quoting Khrushchev, the magazine explicitly declared that it illustrated the “conditions created by the October Socialist Revolution.” Soviet Life strongly associated the flight with socialism and peace and suggested that other nations were intent on militarizing space.68 It commonly showed cosmonauts in their official military uniforms. In the symbolic parlance of the Soviet Union, however, such military attire did not identify the cosmonauts with war, but rather with the Soviet state and its defense of peace.69 An often-reproduced photo appearing in the September 1962 issue of a smiling, uniformed Gagarin holding a dove made the point less obliquely, as did illustrations elsewhere featuring rockets and doves.70
At the same time, socialism, as a postcapitalist order, also implied progress. Central to Soviet myth were the related ideas that the socialist state had made a dramatic break with the capitalist and imperialist human past and that it promised even more profound changes as it reached forward to the goal of building communism.71
Representations of cosmonauts were modeled on a “Moral Code of the Builder of Communism” that the Communist Party of the Soviet Union unveiled just six months after Gagarin’s flight.72 Reading like a blueprint for how cosmonauts were to be represented in propaganda, the Moral Code called for the New Soviet Man to be committed to Soviet progress toward building communism, conscientious for the good of society, honest, morally pure, modest, respectful family members, and especially concerned for raising their children with these same values.73 Yuri Gagarin’s autobiography, The Road to the Stars, was a key text that set the tone for how cosmonauts were to personify the New Soviet Man.74 Between July and September 1961, Soviet Life published several lengthy excerpts from The Road to the Stars as part of its coverage of Gagarin’s historic spaceflight.75 Overall, the magazine’s portrayals of Gagarin, and subsequent cosmonauts, conformed to the tenets of the Moral Code, which called for them to appear as model socialists and to represent the Soviet commitment to peace and progress.
Just as Soviet human spaceflights were declared triumphs of socialism, so were cosmonauts cast as socialist heroes. Frequently pointing out the cosmonaut’s proletarian heritage, Soviet Life routinely identified them with the working class.76 Their accomplishments, as specifically socialist achievements, were presented as a source of pride in socialism. Their behavior, similarly portrayed as socialist behavior, provided a socialist model to be admired, respected, and perhaps emulated. Depicting the cosmonauts as model socialists thus presented them to signify that the Soviet Union was best suited for guaranteeing peace and progress as space exploration refashioned the human future.
The Eisenhower administration had termed the Soviet emphasis on improving relations with the West a “peace offensive.”77 In the late 1950s USIA officials began to search for a response to peaceful coexistence.78 In June 1961, USIA Director Edward R. Murrow and his associates articulated—and received President Kennedy’s blessing for—an “effective countertheme” based on identifying the United States with an “open world” and a “world of free choice.”79 In contrast to Soviet Life, which connected cosmonauts with the strong socialist state, Amerika presented astronauts as representatives of an American spirit characterized by the ideals of freedom and openness used to differentiate an American conception of peace from the Soviet concept of coexistence. In this view, the United States’ human spaceflight achievements signified nothing less than the American spirit’s ascendancy into space.
Central to Amerika’s portrayals of astronauts was the motif of a free market, not only the economic market but also the marketplace of ideas, as the magazine routinely demonstrated the astronauts’ gratification with life in a free society. For example, Amerika often showcased American astronauts’ freedom to worship. Frequent depictions of American astronauts performing religious rites, such as prayer, communion, and reading from the Bible, in outer space demonstrated openness by highlighting religious tolerance.80 Such images contrasted American astronauts with the Soviet cosmonauts, who Soviet propagandists cast as symbols of atheist scientific materialism. Amerika thus targeted those in the Soviet Union who still turned to religion in spite of the atheistic propaganda aimed at them.81 Astronauts’ expressions of faith also supported space exploration rhetoric about the unity of “all mankind” to underline the associations between exploring the cosmos and preserving peace on Earth. In one piece, for example, Edwin “Buzz” Aldrin Jr. described how, while serving himself communion on the Moon, he prayed that people would “see the deeper meaning” behind space exploration and would “recognize that we are all one mankind, under God.”82 Visuals associating spaceflight with Christianity were also common. Paintings by Robert McCall, which often appeared in the magazine, frequently used the pictorial motif of rays of light in the shape of a cross to invest the celestial “heavens” with spiritual content.83
Historian Kenneth Osgood has described how the USIA generally promoted to foreign audiences the American way of life: a celebration of freedom and democracy, especially of the free market economy, which brought prosperity and a myriad of goods within easy reach of U.S. consumers.84 In line with this, Amerika often showcased the material abundance that astronauts and their families enjoyed and implied that such affluence was a product of the free market.85 Recurrent images of Americans witnessing human spaceflight on television sets in their homes or in front of large screens set up in public signified that affluence and leisure time were abundant in American society.86 So did recurrent images of astronauts (and cosmonauts) at Disneyland and Disneyworld. One especially conspicuous photo essay covering the October 1969 U.S. tour of Georgi Beregovoi and Konstantin Feoktistov showed the cosmonauts, among other things, barbecuing steaks in San Diego, riding in an experimental car in Detroit, and wearing Mickey Mouse caps at Disneyland.87
Articles on daily life for astronauts in space routinely focused on the material comforts American astronauts enjoyed in orbit and especially highlighted those items most suggestive of affluence and leisure. Skylab astronauts, for example, had several hours each day to “relax and enjoy” such things as personal portable tape recorders.88 Long, detailed descriptions of space menus including such delectable entrées as filet mignon and lobster Newburg were routine.89 Wide-angle photographs of astronauts’ families watching human spaceflights on television or of lavish banquets honoring the astronauts showcased the material prosperity of American consumers: fashionable clothing, hairstyles, furniture, modern homes, television sets, and a bounty of food, drink, and cigarettes.90 Among these, recurring pictures of astronauts and their family members with open mouths may have been intended to suggest openness (Figure 2).91 Such images of openness and freedom symbolized the American conception of peace, whereas the material abundance on display strongly indicated industrial progress.
Soviet Life similarly used cosmonauts to showcase industrial progress and to suggest that the socialist system provided an abundance of material goods. However, since the Soviet economy provided relatively far fewer consumer items, it by necessity did not depict them enjoying those comforts in the home. Instead, it showed visiting American astronauts enjoying official Soviet hospitality or touring Soviet industrial sites.92 Although it often rhetorically linked space accomplishments with economic progress, Soviet Life only very occasionally used cosmonauts to showcase the availability of consumer goods in Soviet society.93 It rarely discussed space (and Earth) food in a manner to suggest abundance.94 One article exhibited several ASTP souvenir items, including “space cigarettes,” chocolates, perfume, and vodka.95 Generally speaking, however, images of Soviet material abundance were atypical in Soviet Life, which was just as likely to criticize American consumerism as it was to showcase the Soviet version.96 The Soviet magazine’s emphasis on abundance also did not appear until the 1970s, suggesting that the theme emerged in response to the rich and numerous displays of material affluence in Amerika.
FIGURE 2. The Gemini 4 astronauts and their wives: (from left to right) Patricia White, Ed White, Patricia McDivitt, and James McDivitt at a press conference held at the Manned Spacecraft Center in Houston, Texas, on June 11, 1965, attended by President Johnson. Note their civilian attire, friendly smiles, open mouths, and the presence of their family members. The photograph appeared in “Happy End to a Successful Space Flight,” Amerika, November 1965, 34–35. Photo by Francis Miller/Time Life Pictures/Getty Images.
Conclusions
The similarities between the two magazines examined here are far more striking than the differences. Although both publications articulated different definitions of peace and progress and employed different media strategies, they both portrayed space explorers as extraordinary heroes and ordinary human beings to link them to their nations and all humankind. But more remarkably, the two magazines shared the basic view that human spaceflight would prove powerfully transformative and would ultimately bring peace and progress to humanity. The mutual emphasis on these themes stemmed from the common influence that the Enlightenment and the cold war had on the Soviet Union and the United States. Additionally, the prerogatives of propaganda led both publications to illustrate a bold future to heighten the significance of their current and past achievements in space. They showed how space exploration “may remake our image of mankind” to cast their own nation leading the next step of human evolution. As Neil Armstrong famously observed, the astronauts and cosmonauts did not simply take small steps—they made giant leaps.
This chapter began by noting how human spaceflight initially inspired predictions that stepping into space would forever change humanity and how such heated enthusiasm has more recently chilled into disappointment as we remain (so far) in the doldrums of low Earth orbit. Any attempt to assess whether human spaceflight has fulfilled its initial promise should begin by assuming that there were multiple narratives. Soviet and American official narratives were among those that most enthusiastically imagined space exploration refashioning humankind, and they both did so as part of a broader project of claiming their nation’s global leadership. We should not, therefore, ask whether human spaceflight has remade our image of ourselves, but how.
Notes
1. MacLeish’s piece was widely disseminated after its debut on the front page of The New York Times on Christmas Day, 1968. Excerpts from it made their way into Richard Nixon’s January 20, 1969, inaugural address and into the flagship propaganda publication Amerika magazine on more than one occasion. See Archibald MacLeish, “A Reflection: Riders on Earth Together, Brothers in Eternal Cold,” New York Times, December 25, 1968; U.S. Department of State, Foreign Relations of the United States, 1969–1976, vol. 1 (Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office, 2003), 53–55 (hereafter FRUS with year and volume number); “Apollo 8: Now Man Has Circled the Moon,” Amerika, May 1969, 43–46; Archibald MacLeish, “A Reflection (Introduction to Special Section on Apollo 11),” Amerika, November 1969, 25.
2. Walter A. McDougall, “A Melancholic Space Age Anniversary,” in Remembering the Space Age, ed. Stephen J. Dick (Washington, DC: NASA History Division, 2008), 390.
3. The Soviet magazine was called USSR from 1956 to 1964 and Soviet Life from 1965 to 1991. (For the sake of simplicity this essay refers to the Soviet magazine’s entire run as Soviet Life, and for the sake of brevity, it refers to Amerika Illiustrirovannoye as simply Amerika.) The production of Soviet Life was overseen by the Soviet Department of Agitation and Propaganda and after April 1961 by the Agentstvo Pechati Novosti.
4. A series of exchange agreements beginning in 1956 governed the two magazines’ circulation. Throughout the period discussed here, American officials sought to increase the allowable circulation of the exchange agreement, whereas Soviet officials wanted to limit the distribution of Amerika to levels matching the dismal sales of Soviet Life in the United States. See Walter L. Hixson, Parting the Curtain: Propaganda, Culture, and the Cold War, 1945–1961 (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1997), 117; Yale Richmond, Cultural Exchange and the Cold War: Raising the Iron Curtain (University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 2003), 2, 149–51; Yale Richmond, Practicing Public Diplomacy: A Cold War Odyssey (New York: Berghahn Books, 2008), 100–103; Max Frankel, “U.S.-Soviet Accord in Cultural Field Extended 2 Years,” New York Times, November 22, 1959; “Texts of U.S.-Soviet Accords on Exchanges in Technical and Cultural Matters,” New York Times, June 20, 1973.
5. Michael J. Sheehan, The International Politics of Space (New York: Routledge, 2007), 31.
6. Pravda described Gagarin’s spaceflight this way. See Pravda, April 15, 1961. Soviet Life described Vostok as a “new triumph of Lenin’s ideas, a confirmation of the correctness of the Marxist-Leninist teachings.” See “A Day to Remember,” USSR, May 1961, 2–3.
7. Khrushchev and Gagarin appeared together on the May 1961 front cover, embracing on the inside front cover, and several more times inside the issue. See “Nikita Khrushchev with Yuri Gagarin and His Wife Valentina Driving along a Street in Moscow on Their Way to Red Square on April 14,” USSR, May 1961, front cover; “The First Man in Space: Yuri Gagarin,” USSR, May 1961, inside front cover, 1; “A Day to Remember,” 2–3; “Heartfelt Gratitude,” USSR, June 1961, inside front cover, 1; “Moscow Welcomes the Hero,” USSR, June 1961, 6–9.
8. For examples, see “Second Soviet Cosmonaut in Outer Space,” USSR, September 1961, 14–15; Gherman Titov, “435,000 Miles through Space,” USSR, October 1961, inside front cover, 1–7; “Hero’s Welcome for Cosmonauts in Moscow,” USSR, October 1962, 26–27; “Moscow Welcomes Cosmonauts,” USSR, August 1963, 26–27; “Interview by Leonid I. Brezhnev, General Secretary of the CPSU Central Committee for French Television,” Soviet Life, December 1976, 8c; Boris Petrov, “The Space Experiment,” Soviet Life, January 1969, 10–11.
9. See especially the images of the first six cosmonauts in official portraits wearing their uniforms and many medals in “Do You Know Soviet Cosmonauts?” Soviet Life, April 1964, 32–33.
10. “Who Are the Delegates?” USSR, November 1961, 3–7; “Congress Delegates Speak,” USSR, December 1961, 14–16; “Congress Delegates Speak,” USSR, September 1962, 24–26.
11. See especially Yuri Yakovlev, “Young Pioneers,” Soviet Life, January 1963, 26–29; “Young Cosmonauts’ Club,” Soviet Life, August 1969, 16–21; “Birthplace of First Spaceman Rebuilt by Students,” Soviet Life, September 1974, 18–23.
12. Charles Gregory, “As a Nation Watched … ‘Lift Off!’ ” Amerika, August 1961, 36–39. Amerika even explained that the American space program “is based on the profound belief that all are entitled to a full awareness of both our successes and to the difficulties.” Jeff Stansbury, “John Glenn … in Orbit,” Amerika, May 1962, 2–7. See also Anthony J. Bowman, “Space Travelers Meet,” Amerika, August 1962, 2; “Saturn V Takes a Giant Step toward the Moon,” Amerika, April 1968, 48–49; “00:4; 00:3; 00:2; 00:1; 00:0 (Apollo 11 Lift-Off),” Amerika, April 1970, 9.
13. For a particularly telling image of Shepard and Grissom having a laugh and sharing the frame with a photographer who has two large cameras around his neck, see Gregory, “As a Nation Watched,” 36–39. See also “Apollo 8: Now Man Has Circled the Moon,” 43–46; Jeff Stansbury, “On Target: Flight of Second U.S. Astronaut,” Amerika, December 1961, 9. Photographs of space explorers making public appearances were commonly framed to showcase the audiences participating at these events, further reinforcing the message that the American media was free and open to the public. See, for example, Bowman, “Space Travelers Meet,” 2–3.
14. See the back cover of the May 1962 issue and especially “Welcome Back! (Apollo 11),” Amerika, April 1970, 60–61, 63.
15. “Welcome Back! (Apollo 11),” 62–65. For a similar image of John Glenn’s 1962 address before Congress, see Stansbury, “John Glenn,” 7.
16. Bowman, “Space Travelers Meet,” 2; Everly Driscoll, “Apollo Astronauts: Where Are They Now?” Amerika, July 1975, 30–31.
17. Stansbury, “On Target,” 9; Stansbury, “John Glenn,” 7; Bowman, “Space Travelers Meet,” 3; John Noble Wilford and James T. Wooten, “To the Moon and Back (Excerpt from Apollo 11: On the Moon),” Amerika, April 1970, 6; “Welcome Back! (Apollo 11),” 61–65; “Apollo Soyuz Project: First International Manned Spaceflight,” Amerika, July 1975, 24.
18. On the training centrifuge, see “Man’s First Flight into Space,” USSR, June 1961, 2–5; Norair Sisokyan, “The Road to the Stars,” USSR, June 1961, 10; Ilya Kopalin, “First Flight to the Stars,” USSR, November 1961, 16–19; “Space Merry-Go-Round,” Soviet Life, August 1966, 54–55; “Space, Interviews with Konstantin Feoktistov and Oleg Gazenko,” Soviet Life, October 1976, 2–9. Soviet space launches, unlike American ones, were kept secret from both domestic and international audiences. Only successful launches were announced publicly and only after the fact. Setbacks and failures were never publicized. See G. Perry, “Perestroika and Glasnost in the Soviet Space Programme,” Space Policy (November 1989): 283; Sheehan, The International Politics of Space, 32.
19. Stansbury, “On Target,” 9; Stansbury, “John Glenn,” 2–7; Marjorie Parsons, “ ‘Faith-7’ in Space,” Amerika, September 1963, 11–13; “Pioneers Together—Astronauts and Cosmonauts,” Amerika, November 1969, 30–31; “A Calendar of Space Flight,” Amerika, April 1970, 44. Interestingly, the “Calendar of Spaceflight,” by focusing only on human missions, neatly avoided recalling the spectacular American launch failures of the late 1950s.
20. A select few examples include “Meeting in Space,” Amerika, October 1963, 38–39; Ralph Segman, “Gemini: Beginning and Successful Ending of a Project,” Amerika, October 1967, 34–35; “On the Moon (Apollo 11),” Amerika, April 1970, 38–39; Jay Holmes, “The New Configuration,” Amerika, February 1971, 18; Arthur Pariente, “Apollo 15: Touchdown for Science,” Amerika, December 1971, 30.
21. Wilford and Wooten, “To the Moon and Back,” 2–8.
22. Apollo astronauts Virgil Grissom, Ed White, and Roger Chaffee died on January 27, 1967. Cosmonaut Vladimir Komarov perished aboard Soyuz 1 on April 24, 1967. Soyuz 11 cosmonauts Georgi Dobrovolski, Viktor Patsayev, and Vladislav Volkov died on June 30, 1971.
23. See especially “Their Deeds Will Live Forever,” Soviet Life, September 1971, 13–16; “Earth Will Remember Them Forever,” Soviet Life, August 1969, 27; Nikolai P. Kamanin, “His Life’s Cause,” Soviet Life, July 1968, 34; “Yuri Gagarin Citizen No. 1 of the Universe,” Soviet Life, July 1968, 25–27; Yaroslav Golovanov, “He Wanted to Speed Up History,” Soviet Life, July 1968, 28–29; Robert Rozhdestvensky, “Continue Their Work,” Soviet Life, September 1971, 17. For American examples, see Sherwood Harris, “Cape Kennedy: The Moon Has Changed the View,” Amerika, October 1967, 20–23; “A Calendar of Space Flight,” 44–51.
24. See especially the December 1962 front and back covers: “Titov, Gagarin, Nikolayev and Popovich Are Interviewed by USSR Staff Writers,” USSR, December 1962.
25. See especially “Welcome Gherman Titov,” USSR, June 1962, 6–9; Pavel Bakashev, “Orbit Round the Earth,” USSR, August 1962, inside front cover, 1; Oleg Ivanov, “Cosmonaut’s Joke—Photo of the Month,” Soviet Life, January 1964, 37. For American examples, especially see Gregory, “As a Nation Watched,” 39; Stansbury, “John Glenn,” 2, 5; Bowman, “Space Travelers Meet,” 3; Parsons, “ ‘Faith-7,’ ” 12–13; Frank Borman, “A Special Message to the Readers of Soviet Life,” Amerika, June 1969, 40; “On the Moon (Apollo 11),” 30–31, 39; “Apollo Soyuz Project,” 22–23.
26. Wilford and Wooten, “To the Moon and Back,” 2–8; “Special Report: Man on the Moon,” Amerika, November 1969, insert between pp. 28 and 29.
27. For Soviet examples, see “Yuri Gagarin’s Own Story,” USSR, May 1961, 4–5; Olga Apanachenko and Vasili Peskov, “The Family Waits,” USSR, May 1961, 62–63; “Man’s First Flight into Space,” 2–5; Sisokyan, “The Road to the Stars,” 10; Yuri Gagarin, “Road to Outer Space,” USSR, July 1961, 24–29; August 1961, 7–11; September 1961, 16–23; Titov, “435,000 Miles,” 1–7; Alexander Mokletsov, “Lady Cosmonaut on Vacation,” USSR, December 1963, 22–26; Vladimir Zhukar and Irina Pushkina, “Space Psychology,” Soviet Life, April 1965, 34; “Space Explorers’ Poll,” Soviet Life, August 1969, 4–8. For American examples, see Stansbury, “On Target,” 9; Stansbury, “John Glenn,” 2–7; Bowman, “Space Travelers Meet,” 2–3; Fady Bryn, “Astronaut Carpenter Lifts Off,” Amerika, August 1962, 7–9; Parsons, “ ‘Faith-7,’ ” 11–13; Jim Schefter, “Our First Day on the Moon—What Will It Be Like?” Amerika, May 1969, 47–51; “A Day in Outer Space,” Amerika, November 1969, 27–28; “Here Come the Cosmonauts!” Amerika, March 1970, 48; Wilford and Wooten, “To the Moon and Back,” 2–7; “Our Impossible Goal,” Amerika, April 1970, 40; “Special Report,” insert between pp. 28 and 29.
28. Apanachenko and Peskov, “The Family Waits,” 62–63; “Yuri Gagarin—World’s First Cosmonaut,” USSR, June 1961, 11–13; Gagarin, “Road to Outer Space,” July 1961, 24–29; August 1961, 7–11; September 1961, 16–23; Titov, “435,000 Miles,” 1–7; “Cosmonaut Andrian Nikolayev,” USSR, October 1962, 40–41; “Cosmonaut Pavel Popovich,” USSR, October 1962, 42–43; Anatoli Blagonravov, “Space Spidermen,” Soviet Life, April 1969, 48; Mikhail Rebrov, “Stellar Town: Their Earthly Home,” Soviet Life, August 1969, 36–38; “Cosmonauts Town,” Soviet Life, July 1975, 20–23.
29. Segman, “Gemini,” 34–35; “Special Report,” insert between pp. 28 and 29; “On the Moon (Apollo 11),” 36–37; “Our Impossible Goal,” 40–41; Wilford and Wooten, “To the Moon and Back,” 2–7.
30. Bryn, “Astronaut Carpenter,” 9.
31. See, for example, “Yuri Gagarin’s Own Story,” 4–5; Gagarin, “Road to Outer Space,” July 1961, 24–29; August 1961, 7–11; September 1961, 16–23; “Spaceman on Vacation,” USSR, September 1961, 17; Titov, “435,000 Miles,” inside front cover, 1–7.
32. See, for example, Bryn, “Astronaut Carpenter,” 7; “A Day in Outer Space,” 27–28; Wilford and Wooten, “To the Moon and Back,” 2–8.
33. G. A. Skuridin, V. I. Sevast’yanov, and G. A. Nazarov, Entrance of Mankind into Space (15th Anniversary of the First Manned Flight into Space), NASA Technical Translation NASA-TT-F-17114 (Washington, DC: NASA Technical Translation Service, 1976), 31. Cited in Sheehan, The International Politics of Space, 31.
34. “Seagull Calling, Report from Cosmonaut Vasili Peskov,” USSR, August 1963, 22–23.
35. Ivanov, “Cosmonaut’s Joke,” 37.
36. Valeri Gendi Rot, Yuri Korolev, and Alexander Mokletsov, Rot et al., “Marriage Made in Space,” Soviet Life, January 1964, 38–43.
37. “Cosmonaut, Cosmonette, Cosmotot,” Soviet Life, October 1965, 48–49. For other articles on Tereshkova, see Mokletsov, “Lady Cosmonaut,” 22–26; Valentin Mikhailov, “Lady Cosmonaut’s Mailbag,” Soviet Life, July 1964, 4–5.
38. Vasili Pavlov, “424 Hours in Space,” Soviet Life, October 1970, 12. This is not to say that Soviet Life did not still value the image of an active, heroic, adventurous working female as a symbol of equality between the sexes in the Soviet Union. One article celebrated the test pilot career of Marina Popovich, wife of cosmonaut Pavel Popovich. See “Marina Popovich–Test Pilot,” Soviet Life, January 1973, 38–41. For representations of other women of the Soviet space program, see Vladimir Gubarev, “Women in Space Research,” Soviet Life, April 1975, 36–37. Also related is an article on (male) cosmonaut’s wives in the special issue celebrating the 20th anniversary of Gagarin’s flight: “Perhaps the Hardest Part Is Waiting,” Soviet Life, April 1981, 42–45.
39. Roshanna P. Sylvester, “She Orbits over the Sex Barrier: Soviet Girls and the Tereshkova Moment,” in Into the Cosmos: Space Exploration and Soviet Culture, ed. James T. Andrews and Asif A. Siddiqi (Pittsburgh, PA: University of Pittsburgh Press, 2011), 195–212.
40. Sylvester, “She Orbits,” 197; Asif. A. Siddiqi, Challenge to Apollo: The Soviet Union and the Space Race, 1945–1974 (Washington, DC: NASA History Division, 2000), 352–53, 362, 372, 508–9, 526. Also see Jennifer Ross-Nazzal’s examination of American female astronauts in this volume.
41. For American examples, see John F. Kelly, “Plan for Developing Space,” Amerika, July 1963, 17–23; Tom Buckley, “Thomas Paine’s Arena Is the Universe,” Amerika, September 1970, 18–20; Thomas O. Paine, “Next Steps in Space,” Amerika, September 1970, 21; “Space Station ’75,” Amerika, November 1970, 14–15; James J. Haggerty, “The Giant Harvest from Space—Today and Tomorrow,” Amerika, February 1971, 22; Krafft A. Ehricke, “Extraterrestrial Imperative,” Amerika, March 1973, 44–48; “Is Anybody Out There?” Amerika, March 1973, 49–50; “Space Artist (Robert McCall),” Amerika, July 1975, 26–29. For Soviet examples, see “Spaceships Today and Tomorrow, an Interview with Konstantin Feoktistov,” Soviet Life, August 1968, 22–23; Anatoli Andanov and Gennadi Maximov, “Space Stations of the Future,” Soviet Life, August 1969, 24–26; Sergei Petrov, “Space Travel. Its Present and Future,” Soviet Life, October 1970, 14; “Soviet Space Exploration: Results and Prospects,” Soviet Life, October 1974, 20–21; Dmitri Bilenkin, “The Inevitability of Outer Space,” Soviet Life, April 1976, 6–8; Sergei Sokolov, “Exploring the Planets,” Soviet Life, July 1976, 22–23.
42. Nixon’s March 7, 1970, report endorsing a new NASA plan argued, “Our approach to space must continue to be bold—but it must also be balanced.” Amerika, however, repeatedly printed another of Nixon’s remarks emphasizing the bold approach: “We must build on the successes of the past, always reaching out for new achievements.” See, for example, “Moon: Exploring the Mysteries of the Moon,” Amerika, February 1971, 32–35; Office of the White House Press Secretary, “Statement by President Nixon on the Space Program,” March 7, 1970, http://www.history.nasa.gov/SP-4211/appen-j.htm (accessed January 11, 2011).
43. In the November 1969 issue, Armstrong’s famous “giant leap” quote appeared on the cover, and the words Giant Leap appeared in a giant font on p. 2. “Man Makes His Epic Journey to the Moon,” Amerika, November 1969, front cover; “Giant Leap,” Amerika, November 1969, 29–36.
44. See especially “Earth: Living and Working in Space,” Amerika, February 1971, 25, 29; “Moon: Exploring the Mysteries of the Moon,” 32; “Mars: Sixty-Four Million Kilometers to the Red Planet,” Amerika, February 1971, 36.
45. Petrov, “Space Travel,” 14.
46. The article quoted Gagarin’s comments at his first post- Vostok interview that it would not be “too long before we undertake a flight … to the Moon” and added that Gagarin “seriously meant what he said.” Golovanov, “He Wanted to Speed Up History,” 28–29. Other late 1960s articles on the Moon did not mention a Soviet piloted mission. See “Queries from Readers,” Soviet Life, April 1968, 25; Nikolai Kozyrev, “Luna: The Seventh Continent,” Soviet Life, August 1969, 52–53. Korolev’s 1963 proposal for a human voyage to the Moon in 1963 was approved in 1964. Sluggish progress and Korolev’s early death in 1966 led ultimately to official denials that the Soviet Union had undertaken a human lunar program. See Asif A. Siddiqi, Sputnik and the Soviet Space Challenge (Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 2003), 395–408, 461–516; Asif A. Siddiqi, The Soviet Space Race with Apollo, (Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 2003), 697.
47. For examples of this argument, see Valentin Mikhailov, “Exploring the Moon from Baikonur and Cape Kennedy,” Soviet Life, August 1969, 54–55; Boris Petrov, “Earth-Moon-Earth,” Soviet Life, January 1971, 18–21.
48. “Spaceships Today and Tomorrow,” 22–23; “Sergei Korolyov: Designer of Space Rockets,” Soviet Life, August 1969, 21–22; Petrov, “Earth-Moon-Earth,” 18–21; “Moon Rover,” Soviet Life, February 1971, 18–19.
49. “Queries from Readers: First Automatic Station on the Moon,” Soviet Life, April 1966, 55; “Exploring the Moon,” Soviet Life, May 1966, 22–25; “First Lunar Sputnik,” Soviet Life, August 1966, 53.
50. Ari Sternfeld, “Flying Cosmodrome,” Soviet Life, August 1969, 22–24; Petrov, “The Space Experiment,” 10–11; “Changing Ships in Orbit, Interview with Alexei Leonov,” Soviet Life, April 1969, 48–49; Andanov and Maximov, “Space Stations,” 24–26; Petrov, “Space Travel,” 14; “Before the USA and the USSR Meet in Orbit, Interview with Vladimir Shatalov,” Soviet Life, July 1975, 24.
51. Roger Launius has discussed how spaceflight narratives employ such turning points. See Roger D. Launius, “What Are Turning Points in History, and What Were They for the Space Age?” in Societal Impact of Spaceflight, ed. Steven J. Dick and Roger D. Launius (Washington, DC: NASA History Division, 2007), 19–40.
52. See, for example, “Pioneers Together,” 30–31; “A New Frontier (Apollo 11 Moon Landing),” Amerika, April 1970, inside front cover; “Man’s Restless Voyage,” Amerika, January 1970, inside front cover; Ehricke, “Extraterrestrial Imperative,” 44; “The First Man in Space: Yuri Gagarin,” inside front cover, 1; “In Honor of Outer Space Dreamers and Research Pioneers,” Soviet Life, August 1969, 9; “To Honor Space Pioneers,” Soviet Life, May 1973, 42.
53. Linda Billings, Taylor E. Dark III, and Asif Siddiqi have all recently written on space advocates’ discourse about “progress.” See Societal Impact of Spaceflight, 483–99, 513–37, 555–71.
54. See, for instance, “First Stop for Men and Rocks (Lunar Receiving Lab),” Amerika, April 1970, 54–55; Jay Holmes, “Apollo 12: Why Go Back to the Moon?,” Amerika, May 1970, 46; Pariente, “Apollo 15,” 30; “Skylab Experiments,” Amerika, April 1973, 14.
55. See especially “Man’s First Flight into Space,” 2–5; Sisokyan, “The Road to the Stars,” 10; “Twenty-Five Hours in Space,” USSR, November 1961, 13–15; Kopalin, “First Flight to the Stars,” 16–19; Andrian Nikolayev and Pavel Popovich, “In the Starry Ocean,” USSR, November 1962, 4–7; “Why Space Research? Interview with Konstantin Feoktistov,” Soviet Life, December 1967, 41; Pavlov, “424 Hours,” 12–13.
56. See especially “A 120-Day Space Experiment,” Soviet Life, February 1965, 61; “New Stage in Exploration of Space,” Soviet Life, January 1965, 4–11.
57. One caption for a photo of Titov and Glenn called it a “symbol of future Soviet-American cooperation.” See “Welcome Gherman Titov,” 6–9. See also Yuri Somov, “Spaceman’s Earth-Level Orbits,” Soviet Life, November 1967, 54–55; “Meeting on a Familiar Planet,” Soviet Life, August 1969, 39; Ted Rukhadze, “Orbiting the USSR,” Soviet Life, October 1969, 18–23; Ted Rukhadze, “Good Start and Soft Landing!” Soviet Life, November 1970, 54–57; Boris Strelnikov, “On an Earth Orbit of Friendship,” Soviet Life, February 1976, 2–6.
58. See especially Irina Lunacharskaya, “Preparing for the First Soyuz-Apollo Docking,” Soviet Life, April 1973, 41–43; “Soyuz-Apollo: Project for a Peaceful Planet, Interview with Konstantin Bushuyev,” Soviet Life, December 1973, 40–42; “The Crews of the Joint Apollo-Soyuz Flight,” Soviet Life, October 1974, 22–27; Alexei Leonov, “Soviet-American Space Rendezvous,” Soviet Life, January 1975, 34–37; Alexei Leonov, “Challenging Space: Soviet-American Docking Experiment,” Soviet Life, July 1975, 16–17; “Cooperation in Space, Interview with Glenn Lunney,” Soviet Life, December 1975, 21.
59. Edward C. Ezell and Linda N. Ezell, The Partnership: A History of the Apollo-Soyuz Test Project (Washington, DC: NASA History Division, 1978), 37–60, 191–93; John M. Logsdon, John F. Kennedy and the Race to the Moon (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2010), 159–73; John M. Logsdon, “The Development of Space Cooperation,” in Exploring the Unknown: Selected Documents in the History of the U.S. Civilian Space Program, vol. 2, External Relationships, ed. John M. Logsdon (Washington, DC: NASA History Office, 1996), 11–15; Sheehan, The International Politics of Space, 55–71.
60. “Here Come the Cosmonauts!” 48. See also Bowman, “Space Travelers Meet,” 2–3.
61. Roald Sagdeev and Susan Eisenhower, “United States-Soviet Space Cooperation during the Cold War,” NASA, http://www.nasa.gov/50th/50th_magazine/coldWarCoOp.html (accessed on January 15, 2010).
62. Jennifer Ross-Nazzal, “Détente on Earth and in Space: The Apollo-Soyuz Test Project,” OAH Magazine of History 24, no. 3 (July 1, 2010): 29–34.
63. Konstantin Kondrashov, “Training in Houston,” Soviet Life, July 1975, 18–19. See also Strelnikov, “On an Earth Orbit,” 2–6; Leonov, “Soviet-American Space Rendezvous,” 34–37; Leonov, “Challenging Space,” 16–17; Georgi Isachenko, “Earth Is Our Bearing,” Soviet Life, December 1975, 21. On the American side, see “Cosmonauts Visit USA,” Amerika, January 1971, 48–51; “Here Come the Cosmonauts!” 48; “Apollo Soyuz Project,” 21.
64. See Ronald Roy Nelson and Peter Schweizer, The Soviet Concepts of Peace, Peaceful Coexistence, and Detente (Lanham, MD: University Press of America, 1988), ix, 2, 4, 15; Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels, The Communist Manifesto (London: Penguin Classics, 2002), 241; Vladimir I. Lenin, Collected Works, 4th ed. (Moscow: Progress Publishers, 1964), vol. 23, 80; vol. 31, 213–14; Nikita S. Khrushchev, “On Peaceful Coexistence,” Foreign Affairs 38, no. 1 (October 1959): 1–3; Leonid I. Brezhnev, Selected Speeches (New York: Pergamon Press, 1978), 8, 31, 39, 51, 130–31, 164, 225, 232.
65. On the term’s history, see especially Warren Lerner, “The Historical Origins of the Soviet Doctrine of Peaceful Coexistence,” Law and Contemporary Problems 29, no. 4 (Autumn, 1964): 865–70; Nelson and Schweizer, The Soviet Concepts, ix, 7; Frederick C. Barghoorn, Soviet Foreign Propaganda (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1964), 88–91.
66. See USIA Office of Research, “M-279-63, The Soviet Attack On USIA,” August 29, 1963, Research Memorandums 1963–1982, Box 1, Records of the U.S. Information Agency, Record Group 306, National Archives, College Park, MD (hereafter Records of the USIA); Barghoorn, Soviet Foreign Propaganda, 80, 87, 98–99; Nelson and Schweizer, The Soviet Concepts, x; Lerner, “The Historical Origins,” 869; “Mirnogo sosushchestvovaniia i ideologicheskaia bor’ba,” Kommunist, no. 16 (1959): 7.
67. USIA Office of Research, “M-160-65, Soviet Propaganda: Themes and Priorities,” April 30, 1965, Research Memorandums 1963–1982, Box 5, Records of the USIA; Roger D. Markwick, “Peaceful Coexistence, Detente and Third World Struggles: The Soviet View, From Lenin to Brezhnev,” Australian Journal of International Affairs 44, no. 2 (1990): 177; Leonid I. Brezhnev, Leninskim kursom, vol. 2 (Moscow: Politizdat, 1974), 275, 289–90.
68. “The First Man in Space: Yuri Gagarin,” inside front cover, 1; “A Day to Remember,” 2–3.
69. “Do You Know Soviet Cosmonauts?,” 32–33.
70. See, for example, “Youth, a Drawing by Alexei Tertyshnikov and Igor Kravtsov,” USSR, September 1962, front cover; “Around the Country,” USSR, September 1962, 13.
71. Soviet propaganda and discourse routinely cited forward motion and progress. For an overview of utopian visions of the future in the early Soviet period, see Richard Stites, Revolutionary Dreams: Utopian Vision and Experimental Life in the Russian Revolution (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1989), 165–223.
72. The Moral Code is printed in Grey Hodnett, ed., Resolutions and Decisions of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union, vol. 4, The Khrushchev Years, 1953–1964 (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1974), 247–50.
73. Soviet Life often reprinted the Moral Code. See “New Party Rules,” USSR, October 1961, 15; “Function of the State,” USSR, December 1964, 4–7.
74. Yuri Gagarin, Doroga v kosmose (Moscow: Foreign Languages Publishing House, 1961). I discuss the correlation between the Moral Code and Gagarin’s autobiography more deeply in Trevor Rockwell, “The Molding of the Rising Generation: Soviet Propaganda and the Hero-Myth of Iurii Gagarin,” Past Imperfect 12 (2006), http://ejournals.library.ualberta.ca/index.php/pi/-article/view/1579/1105 (accessed February 9, 2008). See also Slava Gerovitch, “ ‘New Soviet Man’ Inside Machine: Human Engineering, Spacecraft Design, and the Construction of Communism,” Osiris 22, no. 1 (2007): 135–57; Slava Gerovitch, “The Human inside a Propaganda Machine: The Public Image and Professional Identity of Soviet Cosmonauts,” in Into the Cosmos, 77–106.
75. Gagarin, “Road to Outer Space,” July 1961, 24–29; August 1961, 7–11; September 1961, 16–23.
76. “Yuri Gagarin’s Own Story,” 4–5.
77. Klaus Larres and Kenneth A. Osgood, ed., The Cold War after Stalin’s Death: A Missed Opportunity for Peace? (Lanham, MD: Rowman and Littlefield, 2006), especially Lloyd Gardner, “Poisoned Apples: John Foster Dulles and the ‘Peace Offensive,’ ” 73–93.
78. Memorandum from the Deputy Assistant Secretary of State for International Organization Affairs (Walmsley) to the Secretary of State, August 13, 1959, FRUS, 1958–1960, vol. 2, 169–70.
79. United States Information Agency, “USIA CA-2852, Subject: Implementation of the Five Media Priorities,” March 17, 1964, Historical Collection, Subject Files 1953–2000, Box 14, Records of the USIA; Memorandum from Secretary of State Rusk and the Director of the U.S. Information Agency (Murrow) to President Kennedy, June 8, 1961, FRUS, 1961–1963, vol. 5, 241–42; Memorandum from the President’s Special Assistant (Schlesinger) to the President’s Special Assistant for National Security Affairs (Bundy), June 19, 1961, FRUS, 1961–1963, vol. 25, 239–40; National Security Action Memorandum No. 61, July 14, 1961, FRUS, 1961–1963, vol. 25, 244; Nicholas J. Cull, The Cold War and the United States Information Agency: American Propaganda and Public Diplomacy, 1945–1989 (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2008), 199–200.
80. See Parsons, “ ‘Faith-7,’ ” 12.
81. Victoria Smolkin-Rothrock has analyzed how Soviet propagandists used cosmonauts to promote scientific atheism and discussed the persistence of religion in the Soviet Union. See Victoria Smolkin-Rothrock, “Cosmic Enlightenment: Scientific Atheism and the Soviet Conquest of Space,” in Into the Cosmos, 159–94.
82. “Our Impossible Goal,” 40.
83. “Man’s Future in Space. Painting by Robert McCall,” February 1971, front cover; “Space Artist (Robert McCall),” 29; “Lunar Landing,” Amerika, July 1975, back cover. See also Mitchell Jamieson, “Painting of Astronaut Gordon Cooper,” Amerika, October 1967, front cover; Arthur C. Clarke, “Next—The Planets,” Amerika, November 1969, 33.
84. Kenneth A. Osgood, Total Cold War: Eisenhower’s Secret Propaganda Battle at Home and Abroad (Lawrence: University of Kansas, 2006). See especially chapter 8, pp. 253–87.
85. For examples, see “Close-ups of Moon Show Three-Foot Craters,” Amerika, November 1964, 59; “Here Come the Cosmonauts!” 48–51; “Welcome Back! (Apollo 11),” 62–63; “A Day in Outer Space,” 27. Photographs highlighted the many cameras and telescopes Americans used to view launches. See Stansbury, “On Target,” 9; Bowman, “Space Travelers Meet,” 2–3; Gregory, “As a Nation Watched,” 39.
86. Gregory, “As a Nation Watched,” 37; Stansbury, “John Glenn,” 5; “On the Moon (Apollo 11),” 36–37. Text and images also highlighted similar scenes of public interest in spaceflight satisfied via television around the world. See especially Wilford and Wooten, “To the Moon and Back,” 7.
87. “Here Come the Cosmonauts!” 48–51. For photos of Walter Cunningham and Alexei Leonov riding rocket rides at Disneyworld and Disneyland, see “Picture Parade—Astronaut’s Day Off,” Amerika, April 1968, inside front cover; “Picture Parade,” Amerika, July 1975, inside front cover.
88. Philip Eisenberg, “A New Home in Space (Skylab),” Amerika, April 1973, 11.
89. See, for example, Gregory, “As a Nation Watched,” 36–39; “A Day in Outer Space,” 27–28; Eisenberg, “A New Home,” 11.
90. See especially “On the Moon (Apollo 11),” 36–37; “Welcome Back! (Apollo 11),” 62–63.
91. See especially Gregory, “As a Nation Watched,” 39; Stansbury, “John Glenn,” 7; “Happy End to a Successful Space Flight,” Amerika, November 1965, 34–35; Wilford and Wooten, “To the Moon and Back,” 4; “On the Moon (Apollo 11),” 36–37.
92. “The Apollo Crew in Moscow,” Soviet Life, April 1964, 6–9; Strelnikov, “On an Earth Orbit,” 4.
93. “From a Needle to a Car,” Soviet Life, April 1968, 41. For articles linking human space exploration with economic progress, see “Soviet Science Looks to the Future,” USSR, August 1961, 1–2; “Communism is Coming Soon,” USSR, September 1961, 6–13; “Lodestar of Science, an Interview with Academician Nikolai Semenov, Nobel Prize Winner,” Soviet Life, May 1968, 36–39; Petrov, “Earth-Moon-Earth,” 18–21.
94. Alexei Gorokhov, “What’s for Dinner in Space?,” Soviet Life, July 1975, 24–25.
95. Vladimir Makhotin, “Multinational Press Center,” Soviet Life, December 1975, 22–23.
96. See especially “Progress Material and Spiritual,” Soviet Life, November 1972, 3.