CRISTINA
VATULESCU
ARRESTING BIOGRAPHIES: THE SECRET POLICE FILE IN THE SOVIET UNION AND ROMANIA
SOON AFTER
STARTING my research on personal files from the former secret police archives in
Bucharest, I realized that I was often their second reader. Because my
predecessor, the secret police archivist, had left thick pencil marks that had
survived through the decades, I could easily trace the trajectory of that first
reading, with its narrow emphasis on the main narrative, the conclusive
evidence, names, and court decisions. The archivist rushed to the inexorable
closing of the files, intent on quelling any questions along the way. Following
that red thread, I gradually learned to decode acronyms and pseudonyms and to
read for the plot. Before long, however, I lost my place in this tedious,
complicit reading. The file appeared as a disturbing collage of found objects
still pregnant with untold stories: yellowed newspaper clippings, a love letter
opened before reaching its intended destination, the transcript of an overheard
conversation, scalloped-edged photographs, and fragments of literary
manuscripts. If the suspicious gaze of the secret police had turned everything
into incriminating evidence, I became interested in returning that gaze from the
critical perspective of a reader of literature.
While my project initially focused on previously unpublished Romanian secret
police files, it necessarily expanded to consider their explicit model, the
Soviet file. This essay examines the characteristics and development of
those files from the 1920s to the 1980s. It investigates how this genre was
structured and how it in turn structured its protagonist/victim, two topics that
are as inextricably related as life (bios) and writing (graphike) are in
biography.
A Short Genealogy of the Secret Police File
As the name suggests, the secret police file is a variation on the traditional
genre of the criminal record. Walter Benjamin wrote that the challenge of
identifying a criminal shielded by the anonymity of the modern masses "is
at the origin of the detective story". The elusiveness of the criminal’s
identity is also at the origin of modern criminology, a discipline that
developed in the late nineteenth century based on discoveries about matching
traces such as fingerprints, bloodstains, and handwriting with the individual
who had left them. In the 1870s, the pioneering criminologist Alphonse Bertillon
proposed a method for identifying criminals that synthesized many of these
discoveries. His police records combined mug shots, a spoken portrait
(portrait parlé), and a record of peculiar characteristics (such as tattoos and
accents). By the end of the nineteenth century, this prototype of the modern
police file had been firmly established throughout Europe.
Whereas a criminal record is usually limited to the investigation of a crime, the Soviet personal file provides an extensive biography of a suspect. Already in 1918, Martin Latsis, a leader of the Soviet secret police, instructs: "Do not look in the materials you have gathered for evidence that a suspect acted or spoke against the Soviet authorities. The first question you should ask him is what class he belongs to, what is his origin, education, profession. These questions should determine his fate. This is the essence of the Red Terror." Romanian writer Nicolae Steinhardt summarizes the important shift documented in this directive: "you are not accused for what you have done, but rather for what you are." Soviet detective stories (detektivy) exhibit a similar departure from the traditional Western genre of the detective story. Like these Soviet files, they disregard the particulars of any one crime to focus on the overall character of the suspect. Thus, while the traditional police file can read like a Western detective story—the reader spurred on by a mystery whose solution is ideally crowned with the identification and punishment of the criminal—the Soviet secret police file reads like a peculiar biography.