The Definitive History of the Soviet Propaganda Poster
With their stark simplicity and bold colours, Soviet propaganda posters kept pace with the times. These posters frame the rise and fall of the USSR

On October 25, 1917, as the Bolsheviks seized power in Petrograd (now Saint Petersburg), a new era of visual communication began. With a largely illiterate population, the Soviet state needed a way to convey complex ideologies quickly and effectively. The solution? Propaganda posters.
Soviet posters, with their bold colors and striking imagery, became the visual backdrop of the revolution. From 1917 to 1991, they reflected the evolving face of the Soviet Union, distilling ideology into instantly recognizable images.
Revolution: The Birth of Soviet Visual Culture (1917–1921)
After the October Revolution, literacy rates stood at just 38%. Written propaganda alone couldn't reach the masses, and Lenin recognized this. In April 1918, he issued the "Monumental Propaganda" decree, ordering the removal of Tsarist monuments and their replacement with revolutionary art and slogans. The Soviet state was not just rewriting history—it was redrawing it.
The Russian Telegraph Agency (ROSTA), founded in 1918, became the hub for poster production. It introduced "ROSTA windows"—storefront displays featuring illustrated news and propaganda. These visual messages simplified political ideas into urgent calls to action. Demand for posters skyrocketed, with over 3,100 designs created created in the revolution's early years.
Moscow’s lithography workshops expanded from 26 in 1917 to 453 by 1920, mass-producing posters for factories, government buildings, and village fences. Mobile agitation trains and ships, adorned with posters and equipped with printing presses, carried revolutionary messages to remote areas.
A distinct aesthetic emerged—Constructivism. Geometric shapes, bold typography, and dynamic compositions became the hallmarks of Soviet poster art. Artists like El Lissitzky, Alexander Rodchenko, and Vladimir Mayakovsky pioneered this movement, turning city streets into political canvases. Mayakovsky's famous declaration, "The streets shall be our brushes, the squares our palettes," captured the revolutionary spirit.
The artists behind these posters came from diverse backgrounds. Some, like Kazimir Malevich and Wassily Kandinsky, were established avant-garde painters. Others were young graduates eager to use their skills for the revolution. Many worked in collectives, such as the famous Kukryniksy trio, whose posters became Soviet cultural icons.
Among the most influential early posters was Dmitry Moor's Have You Volunteered? (1920), featuring a stern Red Army soldier pointing at the viewer—as direct and urgent as America's Uncle Sam Wants You. El Lissitzky's Beat the Whites with the Red Wedge (1919) used Constructivist abstraction to depict the Bolsheviks' fight against counter-revolutionaries. Viktor Deni's Capital (1919) illustrated the Bolshevik vision of class struggle, showing a bloated capitalist being toppled by a worker.
This bold, graphic style influenced international design movements like the Bauhaus in Germany and De Stijl in the Netherlands. Over time, Soviet poster art would shape not just political messaging but commercial advertising and modern graphic design.
From Markets to Modernism: The Visual Language of the NEP (1921–1927)
As the revolution’s dust settled, the Soviet Union introduced the New Economic Policy (NEP) in 1921, allowing limited private enterprise to revive the war-ravaged economy. This shift influenced propaganda posters, making them more diverse and experimental.
With slightly relaxed artistic restrictions, Soviet artists found greater creative freedom while still serving state goals. The Association of Artists of Revolutionary Russia (AKhRR), formed in 1922, brought together artists committed to depicting Soviet life.
Cinema emerged as a powerful propaganda tool, sparking a golden age of movie posters. Alexander Rodchenko and the Stenberg brothers revolutionized film promotion, turning it into an art form. Their poster for Battleship Potemkin (1925) used bold typography and photomontage to amplify the film’s revolutionary energy. Film posters like Nikolai Petrovich Prusakov’s The Punishment (1926) and the Stenberg brothers’ In Spring (1929) reflected the evolving Soviet visual hierarchy.
Western advertising also influenced Soviet poster design. As small businesses grew, commercial advertising merged marketing techniques with ideological messaging. Rodchenko’s Books (1924) exemplified this blend, using striking photomontage to promote the state publishing house, Gosizdat.
By the late 1920s, this era of artistic experimentation was coming to an end. As the state tightened its grip on all aspects of society, the arts fell under stricter control. A new chapter in Soviet propaganda was beginning—one defined by a single, state-mandated artistic style.
The Five-Year Plans and the Rise of Socialist Realism (1928-1937)
Joseph Stalin’s rise to power brought a dramatic shift in Soviet society, and propaganda posters were no exception. The first Five-Year Plan, launched in 1928, aimed to rapidly industrialize and collectivize the Soviet economy. Stalin himself acknowledged the urgency:
“The Soviet Union is fifty or a hundred years behind the advanced countries. We must make good this distance in ten years. Either we do it, or we shall be crushed.”
A modern, industrial USSR would ensure economic independence from capitalist nations. Industrialization meant shifting from an agrarian economy to an industrial powerhouse, a transformation driven by a series of Five-Year Plans.
![[Left] "The Punishment", (1926), Nikolai Petrovich Prusakov, [Right] "In Spring", (1929), Georgy & Vladimir Stenberg](https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/0347/9647/0405/files/Group_2460-min_6daa5e5d-5538-48fc-b18b-c2302374744a.jpg?v=1741921063)
Over the next 65 years, the Soviet state implemented thirteen Five-Year Plans. The first mobilized millions to build factories, power stations, canals, and metro systems—often through grueling labor. Propaganda shifted from abstract revolutionary ideals to concrete economic targets.
As Stalin tightened his grip on the arts in the 1930s, avant-garde experimentation faded. In 1932, the Central Committee issued the decree “On the Reconstruction of Literary and Artistic Organizations,” dissolving the diverse artistic groups that had flourished in the 1920s. Artists were placed under state-controlled unions, paving the way for Socialist Realism as the official artistic doctrine of the Soviet Union.
Formally adopted in 1934, Socialist Realism required all art to be realistic in form, socialist in content, and optimistic in spirit. Posters reflected this shift, depicting happy workers exceeding production quotas, abundant collective farms, and the USSR’s industrial transformation. Avant-garde artist Gustav Klutsis adapted to the new style with Shock Brigade of the World Proletariat (1931), and From NEP Russia Will Come Socialist Russia (1930), showing muscular workers and gleaming factories in hyper-realistic fashion.
The cult of personality around Stalin also took shape. His image became omnipresent, portraying him as a benevolent leader guiding the nation to prosperity. Viktor Govorkov's Thank You, Beloved Stalin, for Our Happy Childhood (1936) epitomized this trend, depicting joyful children gathered around a smiling Stalin.
![[Left] "From NEP Russia Will Come Socialist Russia" (1930), Gustavs Klucis [Right] "Shock Brigade of the World Proletariat" (1931), Gustav Klutsis](https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/0347/9647/0405/files/Group_2459-min.webp?v=1741921102)
Despite declining artistic freedom, the technical quality of posters improved. By 1935, the USSR was producing 5.7 million political posters. These images helped mobilize the population for sweeping economic and social transformations, even as daily life grew harsher. As the decade closed, storm clouds gathered over Europe, setting the stage for a new chapter in Soviet propaganda.
Propaganda of Survival and Victory during WWII (1941–1945)
On June 22, 1941, Germany launched Operation Barbarossa, invading the USSR and shattering the uneasy peace between the Soviet Union and Nazi Germany. In response, the Soviet propaganda machine shifted into high gear. Posters, with their ability to convey powerful messages quickly and effectively, became a crucial psychological weapon on the home front.
The most iconic poster of this period emerged just days after the invasion. Irakli Toidze’s “The Motherland Calls!” depicted a stern-faced woman in red, holding the military oath in one hand and gesturing forcefully with the other. Reminiscent of the French “Liberté” but distinctly Soviet, the image became a rallying cry for millions. Its power lay in its universality—the woman could be anyone’s mother, wife, or daughter, symbolizing the collective call to defend the homeland.
As the war progressed, early optimistic depictions of Soviet military strength gave way to more somber and emotionally charged images, reflecting the harsh realities of the Nazi advance. The newly formed Soviet Information Bureau (Sovinformburo) coordinated poster production and distribution, ensuring artists aligned their work with military and political needs.
In Moscow alone, the Fighting Pencil and Fighting Brush collectives produced a new poster design daily, while the Kukryniksy, a trio of caricaturists, created biting satires of Nazi leaders to boost morale.

The war years also saw a softening of some pre-war ideological stances. References to international communism were largely replaced by appeals to Russian patriotism and Slavic unity. Even religious imagery, long suppressed, resurfaced in some posters as the state sought to rally all possible resources against the invader.
Toidze’s The Motherland Calls! (1941) remains one of the most recognizable Soviet posters, symbolizing national resistance. N. Zhukov & V. Klimashin’s Let’s Fight for Moscow! (1941) captured this spirit of defiance, depicting a resolute Soviet soldier against a backdrop of the heart of Russia, Moscow.
As the war turned following the Soviet victory at Stalingrad in 1943, propaganda themes shifted to vengeance and the liberation of occupied Soviet territory. Posters from this period became lasting symbols of resilience and determination. Ivanov’s We’ll Make It to Berlin! (1944) embodied the confidence of the Soviet counteroffensive
These posters played a vital role in sustaining morale and mobilizing the Soviet population for the immense struggle of the Great Patriotic War. They provided a visual narrative of endurance, sacrifice, and ultimate victory, shaping perceptions of the war both at home and abroad.
The Struggle for Supremacy: The Cold War and the Space Race (1946–1984)
As World War II ended, a new struggle emerged—not on battlefields, but across ideology, economics, and culture. The immediate post-war years focused on reconstruction and the cult of Stalin. Posters celebrated victory over fascism while promising a prosperous future. Viktor Govorkov’s 1946 poster, “We’ll Surpass Pre-War Levels!” embodied this optimism, depicting smiling workers against the backdrop of modernized factories.
Stalin’s death in 1953 and Nikita Khrushchev’s Secret Speech, officially titled “On the Cult of Personality and Its Consequences,” denounced Stalinist excesses and ushered in a period of cultural liberalization known as the Thaw. This shift was reflected in poster art, which, while still adhering to Socialist Realism, allowed for more stylistic freedom—figures became less monumental, compositions more dynamic, and colors brighter.
The space race dominated Soviet propaganda in the late 1950s and 1960s, with posters celebrating achievements from Sputnik to Yuri Gagarin’s historic flight. These images fueled national pride and reinforced Soviet technological superiority. Vadim Petrovich Volikov’s 1961 poster, Glory to the Soviet Man, the First Cosmonaut! and Evgeny Vladimirovich Abesgus’ Our Flag Flutters Amongst the Stars (1966) showcased Soviet internationalism and scientific progress.
As the space race waned and economic stagnation set in during the 1970s, propaganda themes shifted. I. Kominarets’ Happy Holiday, Dear Women (1976) highlighted women’s roles in Soviet society, while international themes remained a core focus. Eduard Simonovich Artsrunyan’s World Gendarmery (1960s) condemned American imperialism, and E. Osipov’s I Do Not See a Path to Disarmament (1970s) captured Cold War tensions.
Soviet leaders saw global Communist expansion as key to the USSR’s future. Posters condemned American imperialism, supported liberation movements, and promoted socialist unity. Viktor Borisovich Koretsky’s "Brotherhood and Equality to All People" (1963) reinforced this vision.
![[Left] "Glory to the Soviet Man the First Cosmonaut!", (1961), Vadim Petrovich Volikov, [Right] "Our Flag Flutters Amongst the Stars", (1966), Evgeny Vladimirovich Abesgus](https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/0347/9647/0405/files/Group_2458_1_-min.webp?v=1741922029)
The USSR also launched an extensive propaganda campaign during the Vietnam War, spending more than $1 billion to create and support global peace movements. The KGB funded peace congresses, youth festivals, women’s organizations, and trade unions worldwide. It also spread disinformation, including rumors that AIDS was created by a U.S. research facility and that the CIA was involved in JFK’s assassination.
Despite the continued large-scale production of propaganda posters, their impact was fading. The repetitive themes had lost much of their ability to inspire or persuade. As Soviet citizens grew more cynical about official messaging, the gap between propaganda and reality widened. What had once been the cutting edge of Soviet visual culture was now becoming a symbol of the system’s stagnation and decline.
Glasnost, Perestroika, and the Dissolution of the USSR (1985-1991)
Mikhail Gorbachev's rise to General Secretary in 1985 signaled both the decline of the Soviet Union and the waning of its traditional propaganda posters. His policies of glasnost (openness) and perestroika (restructuring) aimed to revitalize the stagnant Soviet system, easing censorship and allowing artists to address previously forbidden topics.
As societal issues once ignored in propaganda took center stage, Gorbachev also initiated a sweeping anti-alcohol campaign in 1985. This led to a wave of posters that were more direct and often humorous than earlier temperance efforts. Satire and visual puns became common, reflecting the era’s increasing openness. Posters like Konstantin Konstantinovich Ivanov's "Who's Third?" (1986) and G. Tsevtsov's "Drug Addiction is Suicide" (1988) exemplified this new willingness to confront taboo subjects.
![[Left] "Happy Holiday, Dear Women" (1976), I. Kominarets, [Right] "I Do Not See a Path to Disarmament" (1970s), E. Osipov](https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/0347/9647/0405/files/Group_2456-min_6bb41922-1570-4fbe-b6e2-88a804d89640.jpg?v=1741922232)
Glasnost also prompted a major shift in historical propaganda. Posters began acknowledging figures who had been erased from official narratives, and some even criticized past leaders—an unimaginable break from decades of strict historical messaging.
Meanwhile, international themes evolved. As Cold War tensions eased, posters such as Juris Dimiters' "Dialogue?" (1988) questioned the nature of superpower relations—an approach that would have been unthinkable just a few years earlier.
However, as the Soviet Union unraveled in the late 1980s, state propaganda lost its coherence and impact. Unofficial art exhibitions, underground publications, and foreign media eroded the state’s monopoly on information and imagery. The failed coup attempt in August 1991 effectively marked the end of the Soviet propaganda poster as a tool of state control. In its place, a chaotic mix of political campaign posters, commercial advertisements, and grassroots political art filled the visual landscape of a collapsing USSR.
Propaganda after the Fall of the USSR (1991–Present)
Following the Soviet Union’s collapse in 1991, propaganda as a centralized state function largely faded. However, with the rise of Vladimir Putin in the early 2000s, a new form of state-driven messaging emerged—one rooted in nostalgia for Soviet-era power and influence.
![[Left] "Who's Third?" (1986), Konstantin Konstantinovich Ivanov, [Right] "Drug Addiction is Suicide" (1988), G. Tsevtsov](https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/0347/9647/0405/files/Group_2455-min.webp?v=1741922268)
Putin quickly brought major television and radio channels under state control, using them to shape his image and align himself ideologically with admired Soviet leaders like Stalin and Lenin. The media frequently portrays him as a hypermasculine, decisive, and patriotic leader, often emphasizing staged images of him riding horses shirtless, working out, or discovering ancient ruins. Like his predecessors, Putin plays the role of a strict yet caring father to Russian citizens, reinforcing the idea that his leadership is essential to restoring Russia’s past glory.
Today, Putin’s propaganda machine intertwines nationalism with historical revisionism, positioning him as the architect of Russia’s resurgence. While Soviet-era posters once shaped public opinion through grand ideological narratives, modern Russian propaganda operates through digital media, state-run news, and carefully crafted public spectacles—serving the same purpose in a new era.