NEW YEAR IN THE KAZAKH SSR

By the late 1920s, however, the Christmas tree was declared a ‘bourgeois prejudice’ and rejected not only for ideological but also for practical reasons. Anti-Christmas-tree propaganda claimed that the widespread destruction of young trees caused significant economic damage. Thus, in 1928, the tree was officially banned, and Ded Moroz, the Russian version of Father Frost, was labeled an ally of priests and kulaks.

In the mid-1930s, attitudes toward New Year and the tree underwent a radical transformation. The idea of using New Year and the Christmas tree to promote state interests was openly discussed. A campaign to revive the tradition was launched, framed as being viewed from the perspective of bringing Soviet children joy during the holidays, especially given the lack of a proper and cheerful alternative celebration for their upbringing. It was emphasized that the tree should not be regarded as a religious superstition since it was not a Christian custom but rather a tradition rooted in paganism.

From 1935 onward, the Christmas tree regained its place in Soviet celebrations, undergoing an ideological rebranding: from being labeled an ‘enemy of the people’ to becoming a symbol of joy, family comfort, and unity, adapted to the goals of the socialist state.

The revival of the tradition of New Year and increasing popularity of the tree in the 1930s became a pragmatic step to strengthen festive traditions, fill a void in the Soviet calendar, and mobilize the population. Children were given special attention, which also encouraged women to participate in official Soviet events. However, not all public celebrations strictly adhered to the prescriptions of official ideology. Traditional customs, including elements of Christmas, found their way into New Year festivities.

New Year celebrations also developed a broad spectrum of societal meanings, reinforcing social hierarchies. Lavish trees, exquisite dishes, and grand events were organized for the party elite. The Soviet media portrayed scenes of abundance—tables laden with delicacies, brightly decorated trees, and an atmosphere of festive joy. Meanwhile, those with sufficient material means set up trees at home, decorated them, and prepared special meals, occasionally covertly linking these celebrations to Christmas, despite official bans. This reflected the duality of cultural adaptation: publicly, the New Year emphasized Soviet values, but in private life, it could retain elements of traditional practices.

In societies with Christian traditions, the Soviet New Year borrowed elements of Christmas, making it easier for the population to embrace. However, in cultures like the Kazakh one, this holiday had neither historical nor religious roots.

For the Kazakhs, historically nomads with a Muslim worldview, the New Year was as foreign as other Soviet holidays. It was introduced alongside ideological subjugation, transforming it into a distinctly Soviet celebration. Consequently, all the rituals associated with New Year’s festivities should be viewed within the context of the Sovietization of the Kazakhs and the effort to establish the spiritual foundations of a socialist way of life.

Unlike many Soviet holidays that lost their relevance after the collapse of the USSR, the New Year retained its popularity, becoming part of everyday life and cultural heritage, reinterpreted within the realities of the modern era.

From the 1940s to the 1950s, New Year in the Kazakh Soviet Socialist Republic (Kazakh SSR) was officially presented as a grand, well-organized holiday. Newspapers consistently highlighted examples from Almaty, which served as a focal point and a showcase for the successes of socialism.

In the capital, morning performances included puppet shows and jazz concerts in cinemas. Parks offered winter attractions such as carousels, snow slides, and donkey rides accompanied by brass bands. Restaurants and tea houses under the Almaty Dining and Restaurant Trust prepared New Year’s Eve festivities and tree-lighting events. For instance, the December 1946 issue of Kazakhstanskaya Pravda featured an invitation from the Ala-Tau restaurant, one of the largest in the republic, for an event that lasted until 6 a.m.:

In addition to the usual dancing and spraying of confetti, games and even a masquerade ball were held for New Year’s. This is the announcement from Restaurant No. 1:

New Year’s festivities were held not only in restaurants but also in cafes and snack bars. However, such celebrations were much more modest, without a wide range of alcoholic beverages or dancing:

This is another ad from 1953:

However, behind the glitter of the capital’s festivities lay a different reality. For most residents of the republic, the postwar years were marked by systemic hunger, repression, and poverty. In the various regions, New Year, if it was celebrated at all, took the form of school morning performances and modest events in local clubs, while district centers organized fairs. Meanwhile, the best agricultural products from all suitable collective farms were sent to the republic’s capital to ensure a variety of goods at the capital's markets.

As the capital, Almaty was expected to showcase the achievements of socialism. Therefore, in the days leading up to New Year, attention was focused on the luxury of the holiday bustle.

After a wave of Soviet anti-alcohol campaigns, alcoholic beverages began to play an important role in the ideological promotion of the Soviet lifestyle, especially in the Central Asian republics. At the forefront was the most Soviet of all drinks, ‘Soviet champagne’ (Sovetskoye Shampanskoye)iSoviet Champagne is a generic brand of sparkling wine that originated in the Soviet Union. It was traditionally made from Aligoté and Chardonnay grapes and produced as a state-run initiative. After the dissolution of the Soviet Union, private companies in several former Soviet states acquired the rights to use ‘Soviet Champagne’ as a brand name, and they continue to produce the wine even today.:

Of course, champagne alone, even Soviet champagne, wasn’t the whole story because snacks were also an essential part of the celebration:

Advertisements didn’t forget to mention the New Year tree, which, according to them, was selling like hotcakes, even delivered on ‘unflappable donkeys’:

Celebrating New Year with a private tree at home became a status symbol among the new elite, as special holiday purchases, such as decorations, were accessible only to urban citizens with resources. New Year festivities, including masquerade balls with jazz orchestras and dancing, served as a showcase of Soviet modernity. However, this did not erase the existing inequalities in access to goods and official luxury, which vividly underscored social stratification behind the façade of propaganda.

In reality, these celebrations remained accessible only to select segments of the population, symbolizing prestige and belonging to the ‘privileged’ class—a status many aspired to attain.

In December 1960, newspapers wrote:

The introduction of the first public tree in the city center symbolized a significant change: New Year, which had previously been a privilege of the urban elite, became accessible to all segments of the population. The public tree transformed into a space where the personal and public, familial and state spheres merged.

Under the glow of colorful lights, all Almaty residents could feel like part of one large Soviet family. This idea was captured in the poetry of the time:

Such verses, frequently published in the newspapers of the Kazakh SSR, emphasized the ideological significance of the holiday. New Year was presented not only as a time of joy but also as an important tool for fostering civic and communist values. The celebration demonstrated the state’s care for each of its citizens. Thus, the adoption of New Year in Kazakh culture became part of a broader dynamic of Sovietization.