It isn't very difficult anymore to get a visa for travel in the Soviet Union. Ten years ago, no one went behind the Iron Curtain. And still last year the U.S. government was stamping all passports, "Not valid for travel to the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics..."

But all that has changed. Various kinds of tourist bureaus are now offering package tours to Europe which include, quite likely, a week or two in Moscow and Leningrad. Such a policy change is an encouraging development in the Cold War. With enough money, it has become possible to travel to almost any country in the world.

Money, however, is not everything. Nor is a group trip, which is devoted to "seeing the sights," a very satisfactory way to see, or even "to do," a country. With Intourist--the official, and only, Russian tourist agency--controling certain hotels in key cities and arranging all the details of a Russian excursion, an individual would find it all too easy to return from his flying tour behind the Iron Curtain with nothing more than a few snapshots ("Can you imagine, they actually let me take them!"), a few recollections (the Moscow subway, TV antennas, and slums), and a few "incidents." But ask him about the Russian people. He would probably know nothing.

Intourist Controls Travel

Some people are concerned about this situation. At present the Dartmouth and Sarah Lawrence newspapers are trying to arrange a summer tour with the specific purpose of meeting Russian university students. If the tour materializes, however, it will still be as a group tour which has had all details made for it by Intourist.

One of the few people who have avoided these restrictive influences and has actually completed a trip to Russia is Martin E. Malia, assistant professor of History. Under the auspices of the Ford Foundation and a group of University libraries, including Widener, he spent five months in Russia to arrange for book exchanges between the United States and the USSR. He had success in his mission. And, more important, he had the chance to talk with Russian students and teachers in their own language over an extended period of time without the "cooperation" of Intourist. His findings are significant largely because they illustrate that the intelligent Russian student is not a robot who accepts the party line on every subject.

Just Like a Student

Malia's most valuable student contacts came in Moscow, where he spent almost three months. Normally it is very difficult to get into the university there, which has an enrollment of about 8,000 students, most of whom live in university dormitories. One needs a written pass to attend lectures or to visit the dormitories, although at the other universities Malia found he could wander around by looking as if he belonged there.

Because he was from a university himself, Malia managed to make many acquaintances at the University. He found that every one was eager to talk, even when they found out he was a foreigner--and an American, at that. They were all curious, anxious to hear about the United States. They even put a premium value on American cigarettes.

The longer Malia stayed in Russia, the more people he met who criticized openly many individual aspects of the Soviet system. They would think and say things, both in public and private, which they knew quite well they were not supposed to do, although in the final analysis, according to Malia, almost all of these people are basically loyal, convinced of the correctness of the system.

But they were curious, especially concerning the standard of living in the West. Such questions as these were frequently asked Malia: "What is it like to live there?"; "Are your automobiles better than ours?"; "What does an average worker earn?"; "What can you buy with what the average worker gets?" Even taxi drivers were curious. Many asked about the traffic in the United States, and whether there was more of it than in Russia. Most of them, Malia says, knew there was more in America.

Coupled with this curiosity was dissatisfaction with being cut off from the West. Many of the students even used the Russian equivalent of "Iron Curtain" to express this. They wanted to have access to objective information about the West; they wanted to read Western books, to see Western movies, and to be able to travel freely.

This discontent with the Iron Curtain is shown by the considerable circulation in Russia of books, phonograph records, and other items supposedly forbidden. The black market thrives on such goods. Every Sunday morning on the Kuznetsky Most Street in Moscow, for instance, there is a black market in books. There it is easy to pick up copies of books in short supply, especially western ones in Russian translations, such as the works of Dickens. Other goods, like cloth and clothing, cars, and theater tickets can also be purchased through the black mahket with enough money.

Robert Taylor and Gina

Malia recalls one rather touching scene of the black market in operation on a lower level. In Leningrad he noticed a little crowd around a man selling pictures. They were not the type of pictures which one can buy so easily from such little men in Paris; they were old photographs of Robert Taylor and Jeanette MacDonald, and never ones of Girard Philippe and Gina Lollobrigida.

Another example of the vague dissatisfaction with the Soviet system is the kind of thing the people say about Stalin. Although few volunteered any information on this point, Malia did receive answers once he had asked the question They ranged all the way from real hate to simple unwillingness to discuss the subject, other than to praise Lenin. Almost no one expressed any warmth for Stalin.

Despite this dissatisfaction with aspects of the Soviet system, most of the Russian people--especially the non-intellectuals--are still very orthodox in their outlook. Malia did meet, however, more of the vaguely dissatisfied segment of the population the longer he stayed in the country.

The group favoring the Soviet system nevertheless dominated. These people were primarily concerned with the economic advantages of Russia. They felt that they, unlike the people in the West, are secure. They also liked the monolithic structure of the Soviet government. Power impresses them, and they felt the Russian government could act more decisively than Western rulers.

Even concerning the police aspects of the regime, the average person felt unperturbed, since he rarely came into contact with them. Everyone--even the intellectuals--felt there had been a definite change for the better since the death of Stalin and the sudden departure of Beria. The simple and naive admit that the system was "bad." They felt on the whole that the injustices committed were "accidental," according to Malia. The more intelligent also admitted the system was bad, but they blamed Stalin.

Probably the basic reason for this feeling of relative satisfaction on the part of the majority of the Russians was the economic security, not the constant barrage of propaganda. Unemployment is virtually unknown, according to Malia, although there is a considerable degree of under-employment. What little unemployment there is exists in the large cities.

But it is also in these big cities where it is easiest to buy consumer goods. Malia, for instance, lost his pair of nail clippers in Kiev, and there was not even a pair of scissors in the biggest department store in town. And in Leningrad, he bought the last pair of gloves in the biggest department store there. Both these items were available in abundance in Moscow. Similarly, it is only the five or six largest cities in Russia which have television.

Few of the people Malia met were very concerned with world communism. Their interest was limited to concern about another world war. Almost all felt that it was Russia which was following a peaceful policy, and not the United States. Some had reservations about the details of what their own government told them.

'Your Radio Lies'

Although Malia found that many people had listened to either the Voice of America or the BBC's foreign service, they were in general suspicious of them. Since they felt that the Voice greatly exaggerates the plight of the Russians--and this point they can check against their own experience--they tended to discount what it says about conditions outside of Russia as well. The simple and sophisticated people alike adopted the attitude that "Your radio lies, and so does ours." The BBC, while in this same general category, is more highly respected.

The level of education in the Soviet Union is high, according to Malia. Virtually every town has a so-called seven-year school, and at present plans are being made to make a ten-year school compulsory. The Russian child starts his formal education at the age of seven.

To get into one of the universities or professional schools (the institutes), the Russian student must go to a ten-year school, however. The level of training at this level is roughly comparable to that of the western European countries, Malia says. In other words, a student has completed his general education--including the study of one foreign language--by the time he graduates. If he decides to continue his studies, it is only in one specialized field.

Not all graduates of a ten-year school can continue their studies, however. In fact, it is increasingly difficult to get into either an institute or a university. Technically, a student with all A's (or 5's, in the Russian system) can gain admission. Nowadays, however, this is no longer enough for the bigger universities. Most of them have started accepting only those students who have received a special gold medal for their-preparatory work or those who do well on a special examination, called the "concours." For provincial universities and institutes, however, the A's are still enough.

A university student receives special consideration from the government. He usually gets free tuition and minimum living expenses. He is also exempted from military service.

The curriculum at this level of education is rigidly prescribed. While free to specialize in whatever field he desires, the student is very limited within that particular field. All must take a Marxist or Leninist course each year, although they are "bored with it," according to Malia.

'Shame and Dishonor'

Extra-curricular activities for the students center around the Komsomol--the Communist Youth Organization. This group arranges most meetings and even posts signs in the halls afterwards listing those who did not attend, "shame and dishonor." The Komsomol also inspects students' rooms and sees that each person is tidy and has cut his fingernails. It also sponsors soul-searching sessions.

Student reaction to this communist indoctrination is well-expressed in the following joke. By way of explanation, the Russian work 'mat' means very strong swearing of an obscene nature:

"What is the difference between mat and diamat? (diamat stands for dialectical materialism). The answer is that mat everyone understands but pretends he does not. Diamat no one understands but pretends he does, and both are mighty weapons in the hands of the proletariat."

While the Soviet Union still has plenty of openings available for technicians, there is a certain overproduction of intellectuals, according to Malia, especially in the non-scientific professions. It is for this reason that it is growing harder to get into these fields.

Malia was fortunate in finding out so much about Russia. Certainly the unusual length of his trip provided him with more than the average number of chance contacts. Indeed, in his case, many of these could even develop into friendship before he left. Not all visitors to Russia will be so lucky, however.

Knowing Russian Helps

One of Malia's big advantages over the average tourist was his knowledge of Russian. Then, even though Intourist does control the hotels in all principal cities and does decide where one can or cannot go, Malia had unusual freedom in moving about the country. If he wanted to go somewhere where Intourist had no facilities, he could usually talk the officials into letting him go anyway.

But for the average traveler, Intourist is indispensable. Malia found it so on numerous occasions as well. As he put it, "I didn't have eight hours to wait in the railroad station to get a ticket." So he would use Intourist. Most people would find themselves quite dependent on this organization, which in many ways is unfortunate, since it is virtually impossible to obtain anything more than a vague impression of the country and people with its help. The paradox is that without it, travel in Russia would be impossible for most foreigners. Malia was lucky he saw so much