Today, a personal car is primarily a purchase: if you have money, you can choose a car and register it. In the Soviet Union, everything was different. Just a few generations ago, a car for most people remained not just an expensive commodity, but a special status that had to be earned.
Money alone was not enough. A person might need merits, fame, or special permission. Therefore, the history of Soviet cars is not only a history of technology but also many stories of people for whom acquiring a car became a special event.
A car as a sign of special status
After the revolution, there were almost no private cars left in the country. Some cars were confiscated, others continued to age in the yards of former owners. The car was perceived as an attribute of the former bourgeois life and did not fit well into the new social order. Therefore, a person acquiring a personal car could in itself be an event.
In 1928, the poet Vladimir Mayakovsky brought a Renault NN from France. He did not drive it himself, preferring to use the services of a chauffeur. But a year later, his companion Lilya Brik got a driver's license and became one of the first Moscow female drivers. Later, the car increasingly turned into a kind of state award for achievements.
Among the well-known examples of this practice:
- writer Maxim Gorky received a Moscow mansion and an American Lincoln after returning to his homeland;
- miner Alexey Stakhanov, who became a symbol of an entire labor movement, received a new GAZ-M1 and an apartment in a prestigious house on the embankment;
- the state provided designer Alexander Yakovlev with an executive ZIS-101.
In such cases, the car was not just a means of transportation. It became a material expression of recognition for a person's merits.
Even the famous had to ask
High fame itself did not guarantee the ability to freely purchase a car. Bureaucratic procedures applied even to those known throughout the country.
Actor Leonid Utyosov appealed to People's Commissar of Foreign Trade Mikoyan. In his letter, he explained the necessity of a car by the "troublesome nature of the profession" and eventually received permission.
Mikhail Zharov approached the issue even more creatively. In his letters, he described in detail situations when passers-by recognized him on the street and quoted lines from his film roles.
Director Sergei Eisenstein, after filming "Alexander Nevsky," asked to replace the car, which had already worn out. His request received a short but decisive resolution: "For."
Lyubov Orlova and Grigory Alexandrov also had their own car story. First, they were allowed to purchase a used American car from a foreigner. A year later, the couple wanted a rare convertible that appeared in the finale of their film "Bright Path." But they could not get exactly that car. All copies of this model had already been distributed among military leaders.
There was money, but no car
The cost of cars at that time seemed enormous. A GAZ-M1 cost about 9,500 rubles, and the price of an executive ZIS-101 reached almost 27,000 rubles. At the same time, the average salary was about 340 rubles.
However, even a person with the necessary amount could not just come to a store and buy the car they liked. The main question remained not "is there enough money?" but "will the purchase be allowed?".
After acquiring a car, the problems did not end either. Spare parts were in short supply, so owners had to make acquaintances among craftsmen and factory workers to get the necessary part. Owning a car required not only funds but also connections, patience, and the ability to solve everyday problems in conditions of scarcity.
Victory on ice – and the keys to a "Volga"
The tradition of rewarding people with cars for their merits did not pass with the Stalinist era. Over time, it became especially noticeable in sports.
USSR national hockey team players received GAZ-24 "Volga" for major victories. For a whole generation of Soviet people, this was an almost unattainable peak of automotive desires. The story of Vladislav Tretiak was especially unusual. The national team's goalkeeper received a Toyota right on the ice – the car was presented to him as the prize for the best player of the Canada Cup.
However, the foreign car brought not only joy. Customs authorities demanded a huge duty. The issue was resolved only after the intervention of the minister. At the same time, a condition was set: the car could not be sold for five years.
The situation with the future "Russian Rocket" Pavel Bure was different. Despite a silver medal at the World Junior Championship and a gold medal at the senior championship, he was able to buy the desired cherry VAZ-2107 only after personal approval from national team coach Viktor Tikhonov. The hockey player himself later admitted that the moment he received the keys to the car was one of the happiest episodes of his youth.
The car also had another side
A car symbolizing sports victories could also be associated with tragic incidents. After winning the Olympics in Sapporo, the "Volga" became part of the image of the legendary Soviet hockey player Valeri Kharlamov. In 1981, Kharlamov and his wife died in a car accident. This story became one of the most tragic pages associated with the Soviet automotive era. The car, which was associated with great sporting success, was also linked to personal tragedy.
Over several decades, the car in the USSR managed to be several things at once. For some, it was a rare privilege, for others – a reward for labor or sporting achievements, for still others – a sign of special state trust. In Soviet conditions, a car could not be considered only as a means of transportation. Its acquisition in itself became an event, and sometimes – an important part of the owner's biography.
That is why the stories of Soviet cars are so closely intertwined with the stories of people. The "Volgas" received for victory, the foreign cars given for merits, the permissions to buy, and the endless search for scarce spare parts all show the same feature of the era: a personal car was simultaneously a thing, a status, and a measure of recognition.