The Complex Legacy of Pablo Picasso and His Relationship with Stalin

The Man Behind the Art

In 1949, Pablo Picasso found himself in front of a figure he admired throughout his life. This figure shared a common Communist ideology with Picasso. However, Stalin's legacy was marred by the blood of approximately twenty million victims, as recorded by official statistics. Unofficial estimates suggest an even higher toll. Often referred to as the "Sun of the People," Stalin was a notorious mass murderer whose actions left an indelible mark on history. Despite the horrific nature of this figure, Picasso gazed upon him with admiration. This juxtaposition of artistic reverence and historical horror highlights the complex interplay between art, politics, and the moral dilemmas faced by individuals in the tumultuous landscape of the 20th century.

A Personal Reflection

It was the first of September in 1952, marking my inaugural day in first grade. All the students gathered for a photo opportunity with the figure known as "the Sun of the People." I wore a grey school uniform skirt, reminiscent of the "Uncle Josip" style. In the portrait behind me, a joyful child embraced "the Sun of the People"; that child was Svetlana Alliluyeva, the daughter of Joseph Stalin. It was understood that no one else could bear the nickname Stalin or his original surname, Dzhugashvili, as those names were reserved for the revered founders of Communism.

The once-happy child would later transform into a disillusioned adult, having immigrated from a faltering socialist paradise to the capitalist stronghold of the United States, a society her father had defined as decadent and decaying. I struggled to suppress a smile, recalling how my father, a former prisoner of the Gulag, referred to Stalin as "Mad Dog" in conversations with my mother. Our class teacher insisted that we honor our "Sun of the People" and advised me to "bite my tongue and not smile." This was my first lesson in democracy on Uncle Joseph's "Animal Farm." I took this advice to heart. Now, whenever I encounter individuals who embody Woke ideology or engage in what I perceive as a form of witchcraft ideology, I find it difficult to smile. From this vantage point, I observe the complexities of human behavior and the motivations that drive individuals in their pursuits.

Rise of the 20th Century

Picasso traded Spain for Paris long before the Second Republic, Civil War, and the invasion of Franco. At the very beginning of the 20th century, he established his studio in Paris in 1904. Paris became the capital of art in the 19th century, and on the doorstep of the 20th century, it was a concentration of world-renowned artists and art salons offering mass exhibitions. The city was infested with art dealers, promoters, and collectors.

This high concentration of talent created mutual influence in artwork and deep divisions in understanding trends and directions in developing art. The influence and, in particular, divisions inspired art collectors and provided fertile ground for dealers and promoters to establish value in a marketing campaign. Picasso quickly learned the ins and outs of the art environment, blending into the emerging art industry.

Picasso's true legacy lies in his art itself and his place within it. He is among the most significant figures in art history. Raising its appraisal value, everything associated with him holds significance and generates controversy around his art. This positioning of Picasso as a rebel creates pivotal change in the art world. Even a scribbled sketch has enormous value as the cornerstone of that process. He was known for his refusal to discard any work, no matter how trivial, as even the simplest sketch or note carried profound value, an understanding that persisted throughout his life.

When a bistro owner in the 1950s requested a small drawing on a napkin as a keepsake, Picasso humorously remarked that he was only interested in settling his bill, not in acquiring the establishment. Despite being celebrated as the most prominent Communist artist and receiving the Order of Lenin from the Soviet Politburo, Picasso remained resolute in his refusal to adhere to the dictates of socialist realism. He embraced his identity as a decadent formalist, much to the chagrin of Soviet critics, who struggled to reconcile his artistic vision with their ideological expectations. One might ponder the rationale behind killing a decadent, decaying capitalist society—a "goose" that continues to produce wealth, akin to a goose that lays golden eggs.

Duplicity: A Choice Between Two Evils

Duplicity involves making a choice between two evils that are fundamentally similar. This situation often presents a moral dilemma, where the options available may appear distinct on the surface but ultimately lead to the same outcome. The challenge lies in recognizing that both choices, despite their apparent differences, share a common essence. Courage is required to resolve the moral problem in pursuit of truth, rejecting evil in any form or shape. Failure to do so reflects on one's choices and pursuits, not only as a person but also as a creator.

"Even a casserole can scream!" Picasso said of The Charnel House. "Everything can scream!" POUM, or the Workers Party of Marxist Unification, was a minor Trotskyist Marxist party that operated within the Republican fraction during the Second Republic and Spanish Civil War. Despite its limited size, POUM exerted notable influence, especially in Catalonia.

Picasso's casserole went silent when Andreu Nin, a leader of POUM, was arrested in Valencia in 1937 and brought to Madrid, governed by the Second Spanish Republic, Popular Front. He was tortured, skinned, mutilated while alive, and eventually died under torture. Picasso's casserole went silent again when the remnants of the POUM leadership were put on Stalinist showcase trials in Barcelona on 11 October 1938. Referring to the arraignments, Dolores Ibárruri, pseudonym La Pasionaria, opened the trial with the statement:

"If there is an adage that says in normal times it is preferable to acquit a hundred guilty ones rather than punish a single innocent one, when the life of a people is in danger, it is better to convict a hundred innocent ones than to acquit a single guilty one."

The silence was deafening when Picasso's ideological allies in the Spanish Second Republic embraced the Nazi-Soviet Pact, as the "Sun of the People" shook hands with a Nazi criminal.

A sable scream is absent, replaced instead by the relentless sound of heavily laden trains transporting coal, oil, iron ore, and aluminum ingots. These trains followed von Ribbentrop from the Soviet Union to Nazi Germany, weaseling loudly "New Guernica," "More Guernica." The Soviets delivered vital resources to factories that produced Stukas. These aircraft had recently unleashed devastation upon Guernica, shocking Picasso to the depths of a "screaming casserole."

These trains will soon transport a different kind of cargo: living human beings—toddlers, children, women, men, and the elderly—who are destined for selection. Their fate is a slow, agonizing death in gas chambers. Eventually, they will be reduced to ashes, transformed into soap, or turned into grotesque souvenirs of a monstrous reality. Pablo Picasso did not depict Holocaust victims or death camps or the systematic extermination of Jews and Gypsies in his artwork; his work reflected the suffering of war and humanity in general.

"Generalization" is adherence to the Soviet Communist Party line. In Communist language, there is no Holocaust; there are only faceless victims of fascism and faceless victims of war.

The Tide is Reversing: 1944

The tide was changing in 1944 when Pablo Picasso became a new member of the Communist Party. Nearly half of Europe was occupied by the Red Army and "Communism," where Uncle Joe (President Roosevelt's nickname for Stalin) stepped in, and new Socialist countries emerged, soon to become known as the Soviet Bloc. Communism seemed to be spreading again, taking hold in Europe, Asia, and South America. The "Cold War" broke out in 1950 after the Soviet Union successfully tested its atomic bomb in 1949. Tensions grew, leading to local hostilities in Berlin and Asia, where the Korean War started.

"Massacre in Korea" is the third in a series of three anti-war paintings created by Picasso. The Korean War was instigated by Stalin's communist regime as part of a strategy devised by him and the Soviet Politburo to entangle the West in perpetual regional conflicts. This Soviet intervention led to the establishment of a despotic communist regime in North Korea, which has persisted to this day, evolving into a nuclear power under the control of unpredictable dictators.

As usual with Picasso, his generalized approach to depict the horrors of war through ambiguous details and insignificant events is more than surprising. The Holocaust, the industrial extermination of six million people, the extermination of more than 20,000 Polish prisoners of war in the Katyn forest by Stalin's order, and the dropping of two atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki left one million killed and injured by terrible radiation impact. The Hungarian uprising against Soviet occupation and the Soviet tanks in Prague during the uprising against Soviet dictatorship were also significant events. Picasso's picks served his ideological partners and kept him as a mighty figure of a man fighting his war against "oppression" and "war brutality."

Epilogue: The Death of a Dictator, Mass Murderer in 1953

The artist's work had far-reaching implications, provoking a strong backlash from the Communist Party, which issued a clear condemnation of the portrait's publication in the newspaper. French communist outlets featured letters from outraged readers who argued that Picasso's depiction of Stalin was entirely disconnected from reality, viewing his interpretation as a direct affront to the principles of communism.

When facing critics regarding Picasso's portraits, the artist had different replies. Portrait of Gertrude Stein, 1906, now Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City. Gertrude Stein was one of the first and more persistent art collectors of Picasso’s artworks in the USA. When an art critic commented that Stein did not look like her portrait, Picasso replied, "She will!"

Facing critics from his communist community, Picasso turned to his usual argument: "But if I were a shoemaker, Royalist, or Communist or anything else, I would not necessarily hammer my shoes in a special way to show my politics." The "hammering shoes" was always designated to collectors, art dealers, and market promoters, while the staging behind was dedicated to comrades. Picasso became a front model of the Communist Party, attending Congresses, Peace Conferences, and special party events. He received Stalin's Peace Prize in 1950 and, in 1962, Picasso received the Lenin Peace Prize.

Picasso's moral integrity as a man raises the question: can we trust his sincerity as an artist?