2. Methods and Results
This work is a continuation of a larger study on the ideological sphere of Russian organized crime. The study was preceded by long-term field research in order to obtain the necessary information. The research was started in Kharkiv (Ukraine) in 2010–2011 and then extended to the Russian Federation and Poland. Next, to report the gathered information, the following problems had to be solved: interrogation materials, invigilation records, and argot messages from the USSR era are still classified without special permission to publish, and those from the Russian Empire have mainly been destroyed. The respondents themselves insisted on keeping their personal data secret. No ethical problems reported in (
Miszewski 2007) were experienced because the researcher was not an undercover agent and never positioned himself as a criminal with the highest status, and the topic of conversations was focused entirely on the ideological sphere from the start (if one does not know, one cannot betray). All results that could have been considered seriously and possible to prove were reported exclusively in open scientific publications. However, it should be confessed that the gathered information predetermined the direction of further theoretical research.
To report the obtained information on the basis of open sources, there appeared a model for the analysis of criminal communication. This model was based on a synthesis of the ideas proposed by L. Gumilev, U. Eco, and O. Leszczak. The criminal ideology was considered a ‘discrete system’ functioning after being deprived of many elements (
Gumilev [1989] 2016, p. 103), namely a ‘discrete antisystem’ as ‘an eclectic worldview with an inverse sign’ (
Gumilev 1989, p. 73), ‘a systemic integrity of people with a negative worldview’ (
Gumilev 1989, pp. 246–50, 254–55), an ‘anti-nation’ consisting of individuals who broke all relations with previous life. In Gumilev’s terms, such group is ‘a consortium’ made up by different individuals on the basis of ‘shared destiny’. Such consortia can be considered anti-systemic ‘deadly phantom’ when people do not tell the difference between truth and lie, being involved in the world of ‘phantasmagoria and spells’ (
Gumilev [1989] 2016, p. 504). The ideology of such systemic integrity was seen, after U. Eco, as everything that a person knows, the social group to which a person belongs, systems of psychological expectations, all intellectual skills, life experiences, and moral values (see
Eco 2004, pp. 136–37), which is the starting point when making decisions and the beginning of the binary code (
Eco 2004, p. 83). The functional–pragmatic model of a lingua-semiotic experience proposed by
O. Leszczak (
2010) allowed considering the criminal discourse as a lingua-semiotic experience of a criminal used in his activity on the basis of the binary code, i.e., ideology. The principles of similarity and adjacency were applied to eliminate the problem of division of criminal discourse into forms and elements with the use of the axes of choice (selection) and combination proposed by R.O. Jakobson and modified by U. Eco. The axis of choice (selection) was applied to analyze the paradigmatics of the code of professional criminals, and the axis of combination—its syntagmatics. Within the code, semiotic–cultural, language, and speech representations were distinguished in order to study the signs ‘in praesentia’, ‘in absentia’ and ‘in potentia’ on the basis of their reproducibility, stability, and modeling in sources of various type using a scaled focus hierarchy with regard to geographical, culturological, ethnological, political–historical, ethnographical, biographical, and philological problematics proposed by L. Gumilev (
Gumilev [1989] 2016, p. 367).
‘Vorovskoy Zakon’ as the criminal ideology or an ‘antisystem’ was scientifically ‘labelled’ then as a synthesis of the ideas about the Old Roman Law before Codex Justinianeus (Lex duodecim tabularum, the Insitutes by Caius, Lex Salica), Mishnah (with elements from Gemara and Kabbalah), the Eastern branch of Mithraism (Manusmriti with Bon modified by Tantrayana), the Code of Hammurabi, and the ideas of Jewish Christians (Essenes, Mandaeans, Tibetan variants of Shia Islam). From the viewpoint of obtained information, it sounded like ‘(1) Code of Hammurabi; (2) Mithraism; (3) Old Roman law; (4) Torah; (5) Laws of Manu’. The ‘Vorovskaya Idea’ (The Thieves’ Idea) may lie in the possibility to take ideas selectively from the old religious–legal systems and confront against the present law: integral parts of such ‘codex’ are legal and available; it is essential to know which books to read and what ideas to look for (
Zubkow 2019a, pp. 155–56). Moreover, it was also suggested that different sources, including classical masterpieces of world literature, could have been involved in criminal discourse. This hypothesis about the existence of any ‘secret doctrine’ of the criminal organization in this form remains unproven and is not involved. For the purposes of this research, only one ‘postulate’ obtained during the contact research to be considered here as folklore material seems interesting, ‘the memory of a soul in the endless time to be awoken after reincarnation by another brother-soul’ (
Zubkow 2019a, p. 153;
2019b, p. 240), which will be discussed further.
The axes of choice (selection) and combination were used to analyze the process of communication between criminals when the transferred information is encoded and the fact of such transfer should not be detected because the interlocutors expect invigilation. In such cases, the code words (nouns) are replaced by some other words that do not draw the attention of controlling systems that lead to changes in collocation, i.e., the introduction of corresponding verbs and other parts of speech to make the conversation sound natural. For example, ‘narcotics’ are ‘taken’ sounds like ‘books’ are ‘read’, etc. The change in a noun on the axis of choice (selection) leads to changes in verbs on the axis of combination with possible further word play. The matrix/backup for studied codes in speech (speech representation) was the standard language (language representation) to avoid calling spade a spade. Such approach allowed to study linguistic signs ‘in praesentia’, ‘in absentia’, and ‘in potentia’ (at word play).
The analysis of collective argot self-namings such as ‘
Закoн’ (1. criminal organization, fraternity; 2. criminal code/codex), ‘
закoнники’ (chivalric brothers, fraters), ‘
бoсяки’ (forgotten and dead), ‘
галахи’ (Halakha followers), ‘
брoдяги’ (outcasts), and ‘
блатные’ (initiated) ascertained that they were used by Russian-speaking and Polish-speaking criminals with the same meaning in the Russian Empire in the 19th century since Poland partly belonged to the Russian Empire and Russian was the language of intercultural communication for convicts. In Polish argot, the discussed words were found with the same formal and semantic features: ‘
gałach’, ‘
bosak’ (including ‘
włóczęga’, i.e., ‘
брoдяга’ observed in Russian), ‘
blatny’, ‘
Zakon’, ‘
zakonnik’, and ‘
w zakonie’ (
Zubkow et al. 2020). Their translation into English was discussed separately (
Zubkov 2020). However, it has not been proved how their ideology was connected to the Resurrection, immortality, prophesies, faith, or divine involvement because since 2021 the research was abandoned. The only point stated that time was the infamy and disgrace of Christianity, “the vory are allowed to the Paradise though the back door”. No myth or sacred story was seen that time either behind the homonymy of an argot self-naming ‘
маз’ (maz) nor its connection to a motif of ‘
багдадский вoр’ (the Thief of Bagdad) as presented in this research.
A myth hidden behind homonymy can be seen only when enough evidence in the form of language facts is gathered and presented. Thereafter, it would be interesting “to start from linguistic forms […] to discover what those forms accomplish in social interaction, or more generally, in the construction of everyday life” (
Duranti 2009, p. 28). In case of communication between studied criminals even in the 21st century, it is not an easy task because of incomplete compositionality, i.e., the relations between linguistic signs ‘in praesentia’, ‘in absentia’, and ‘in potentia’. Moreover, the police archives from the times of the Russian Empire were destroyed because many highly positioned Bolsheviks were sentenced for criminal deeds such as ordinary theft and robbery (
Chalidze 1977, p. 39). There only remained literary sources of various kind including folklore. Such data should be analyzed very carefully because “they have not come to us directly from the native speakers themselves but have rather been filtered and compiled by folklorists and anthropologists belonging mostly to the 19th century and early decades of the 20th century, and they are therefore susceptible to being influenced by the ideologies and prejudices of their time” (
Santos Marinas 2025).
The old self-naming ‘
маз’ (sounds ‘
maz’) as ‘a leader of group of thieves/vory’ dates back to Ivan Osipov (Vanka Cain, Ivan the Cain) (
Grachev and Mokienko 2008, p. 180). Despite being compared to a ‘Russian Cartouche’ later, Vanka Cain was rather a ‘Russian Vidocq’ in Moscow from 1742 to 1749 with one distinct difference: he created own criminal ‘mafia-like’ organization being an informer. The first novels and books about Vanka Cain began to appear since 1775, the first reported folk song ‘Vanka Cain and Pseudo Christ Andriushka’ emerged in Novikov’s collection in 1781 (
Mordovtsev 1876, p. 161). Little is known for sure neither about his earlier life in a band of robbers on the Volga River (
Mordovtsev 1876, p. 173) nor its probable contacts with the rich and powerful Skoptsy sect and its leader Andrey Selivanov (
Mordovtsev 1876, p. 159). D. Mordovtsev mentioned Andrey, not Kondratii, as a ‘fool of Christ’ and the first impostor Peter III Fyodorovich who may have lived near the Sukharev Tower and have had a conflict with Vanka Cain. This should not be strange because at present the same uncertainty about the contacts and relations of legendary criminals can be observed even in totalitarian states: Lt. Col. Jerzy Dziewulski remembers that in 1968 as a young criminal police officer in Warsaw he controlled a legendary cracksman A. R. The aim was to prevent a legendary cracksman from criminal deeds. The cracksman was caught at burglary ‘probably in 1985-1986’ (
Dziewulski 2018, pp. 189–200).
In the 19th century and later, a range of linguists tried to explain the etymology of this three-hundred-year-old argot self-naming used by Russian-speaking criminals. The main etymological versions are presented and well-argued by Yelena L. Berezovich and Valeriya S. Kuchko (
Berezovich and Kuchko 2017). The Western version goes back to the toponym ‘Mazur’ and the Eastern one—to Russian dialects, including corporative dialects. For the purposes of this research, the most interesting is the observed ‘semantic attraction’ that reflects itself in semantic fusion by form and meaning on the basis of folk etymology. However, it seems possible to focus on some peculiarities of such ‘semantic attraction’ for the argot words omitted by the researchers.
The discussed argot word ‘
maz’ is still used by Russian-speaking criminals (presented as a polysemic word in the referred dictionary): “(1) Mentor of beginning thieves/vory; (2) Leader of a group of thieves/vory” (
Baldaev 1997, p. 237). At first glance, a ‘mentor’ and a ‘leader’ can be considered near synonyms, and it does not follow from the dictionary, ‘thieves’ or ‘vory’ were meant because there are two homonyms ‘
вoр’ in the Russian language. However, another dictionary item in the analyzed source draws attention—a Russian argot word ‘
маза’ (‘
maza’) that means, according to D. Baldaev (who gathered material during his career in the USSR penitentiary facilities in the second half of the XX century), “(1) Intercession, support, solidarity; (2) a united group of thieves/vory; (3) the same as
maz” (
Baldaev 1997, p. 237). Attention should be drawn here to the fact that words with distinct paradigmatics and, hence, syntagmatics, were joined in one dictionary item as one polysemic word, whereas they are evident homonyms.
Jacques Rossi, a long-term Gulag prisoner, mentions only one polysemic argot word ‘
маза’ in the same meanings as reported in Baldaev’s dictionary except “(3) the same as
maz”, and no other words even have similar stems and meanings (
Rossi 1991, part 1, pp. 197–98). This does not imply that the discussed ‘polysemic’ argot word ‘
maz’ was ‘reanimated’ in the late 20th century—it might not have been included in Rossi’s dictionary and only points to differences in dictionary fixation. The most interesting in the discussed item in Baldaev’s dictionary is the meaning ‘a leader of a group of thieves/vory’ as in the item ‘
maz’ but the lack of meaning ‘a mentor of beginning thieves/vory’. This leads to a conclusion that ‘
maza’ does not mean ‘a mentor’, and there should be at least two homonyms of word ‘
маз’ in Russian argot according to Baldaev. From the viewpoint of formal features, a feminine form ‘
maza’ with regard to a masculine form ‘
maz’ points out to some strangeness, similar to ‘
вoр →
вoра’ reported by M. Grachev and V. Mokienko (
Grachev and Mokienko 2008, p. 81).
Moreover, in Baldaev’s dictionary, alphabetically on other page, there is another formally strange argot word that differs by ending: ‘
мас’ which means “1. I, me; 2. Unknown thief/vor; 3. Signal of danger” (
Baldaev 1997, p. 243). Attention should be drawn to the change in ending from ‘
з’ to ‘
с’, the use of this noun as personal pronouns (
I,
me,
he,
him) for self-naming, and the signal of danger that points to a strong paradigmatic and syntagmatic anomaly. Such anomaly implies that there should be some signs ‘in absentia’ that are reproducible, stable, and capable of modeling in criminal discourse but not mentioned in dictionaries and other subject literature.
The Eastern version of etymology for word ‘
maz’ in connection with other argot word ‘
музыка’ (‘
blatnaya muzyka’ meaning ‘argot’) dates it back to ‘
ofeni’ and the expression ‘
хoдить пo мазыке/
музыке’—as Grachev and Mokienko ascertain, ‘
ofeni’ was close to the criminal world; they were drawing, collecting, and selling icons and other things (pp. 181–82). In this phrase, ‘
хoдить пo мазыке’, all elements are strange and disconnected with each other according to the norms of standard Russian: verb ‘
хoдить’, preposition ‘
пo’, and noun ‘
мазыка’ (if it was the prototype). That time, after the Partition of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, Polish criminals interacted with the multinational criminal world in the Russian Empire, and the language of their communication was Russian. Such fact allowed to extend the analysis on Polish argot. One of the most notable Slavists A. Brückner mentioned in his dictionary in 1927 that in the Polish language both ‘
muzyka’ and ‘
muzykant’ meant a musician, “in this sense it is still folk today” (
Brückner [1927] 1957, p. 350). The words ‘
muzyk’ (little thief) or ‘
muzyka’ as ‘
muzyka blatna’ (false rumor or misunderstanding) (
Stępniak [1993] 2013, p. 212) are still reported in Polish argot. In present Polish argot, argot word ‘
maz’ means only ‘tattoo paint’ (
Stępniak [1993] 2013, p. 200) and was borrowed from Russian, as shown below. However, its semantics in the dictionary is interesting: in prison or forced labor camps, tattoos were made with any paint. This implies that there can be a hint given by the author to look for in semiotic–cultural representation of criminal tattoos.
Moreover, the argot word ‘
maz’ sounds strange for Polish native speakers because of its ending, ‘
z’ instead of expected ‘
ź’ or ‘
ść’. In standard Polish, an old word ‘
maź’ (at present ‘
maść’) has the following word-formation model: “
maź, mazać; mazanie i mazanek, mazanina; maźnica; maziarz, mazidło, kołomaź” (
Brückner [1927] 1957, p. 326), i.e., ‘
z’ is normally followed by a vowel. The standard word formation model implies that there should be either clipping during a later borrowing of ‘
мaza’ from Russian or a deliberate earlier borrowing of ‘
maz’ along with the conveyed ideas. Moreover, the phonetic strangeness (‘
z’ instead of ‘
ź’ or ‘
ść’) resembles that observed above in Russian (‘
с’ instead of ‘
з’). For comparison, other Polish argot words with the same or formally similar stems undergo traditional Polish word-formation processes: “
mazać—(1) to write; (2) to paint; (3) to put up a bank in a card game”; “
mazaj—(1) trace of fingerprints; (2) a writer; (3) a painter”; “
mazak—(1) face, mouth; (2) nose; (3) fountain pen; (4) brush; (5) ink; (6) eraser”; “
mazarz—a policeman” (
Stępniak [1993] 2013, p. 200). The only exception found to this rule is ‘
bohomaz’ (a poorly painted picture) in standard Polish—‘h’ instead of ‘ch’ points to its earlier appearance and borrowing from the terrains belonging to Ukraine and the connection with Russian ‘
бoгoмаз’ (a bad icon painter). In Russian argot, ‘
бoгoмаз’ means ‘a convict engaged in artistic work’ (
Baldaev 1997, p. 40).
Such strangeness in ending of ‘
maz’ in Russian argot shows repeatability, stability, and modeling of signs ‘in praesentia’ and ‘in absentia’ and makes suggest a variable stem structure ‘
ma plus a hissing sound’ to name several homonyms and its derivatives in criminal discourse with respect to diachronic aspect. Moreover, such ‘hissing and clipping’ anomaly or ‘music’, ‘
блатная музыка/
muzyka blatna’, ‘
з,
с,
зь,
сть,’ draws attention to an argot word formally near to ‘
maz’, “
Мазар—
мoгила” (
Baldaev 1997, p. 237), translated into English as a tomb/grave or
Mazar. The appearance of a word that cannot be understood other way (i.e., does not need any explanation in an argot dictionary) is strange and mysterious. It can be suggested that D. Baldaev wanted to show the existence of such word in criminal discourse, i.e., that criminals use this word deliberately. A Mazar is a holy place, tomb or shrine, being a form of
Hadj (pilgrimage) and it sounds very near to ‘
хoдить’. The only Mazar nearest to the Russian Empire is the so-called ‘Tomb of Jesus’ (Roza Bal, the Tomb of Youza Asouph) in Srinagar, associated with the idea of Revival/Resurrection of Jesus. On the other hand, the argot word ‘
mazurik’ should also be considered within the variable stem structure ‘
ma plus a hissing sound’. As an argot self-naming, it is reported to have disappeared from Russian criminal argot in 1920s (
Grachev and Mokienko 2008, p. 182). As Berezovich and Kuchko convincingly ascertain, many words were derived from the base (‘derivative network’) ‘
mazur’, meaning seamen, Cossacks, barge haulers, sea robbers, vagabonds, etc. ‘Baltic sea’, ‘Caspian sea’, even ‘Persian’ ‘
mazuriks’ in folk songs were used in the late XVI to early XVII centuries (
Berezovich and Kuchko 2017, p. 434). Hence, it is very probable that there may have been some other folk etymologies, stories, and superstitions connected with ‘
blatnaya muzyka’ in regard to the word base ‘
mazurik’ in the basin of the Volga River with its ethnic and religious diversity.
There is no need to prove the influence of Sufis in eastern parts of the Russian Empire with domination of Islam. However, the folk etymology connected with Islam is also possible here. Naturally, it reflected itself in criminal discourse. For example, a Russian argot word ‘
шерсть’ (‘
sherst’) meant ‘a category of convicts, people generally’ in the first half of the XX century (
Rossi 1991, part 2, p. 455), whereas its homonym ‘
шерсть’ in standard Russian also means ‘
wool’. It implies the same model of metaphorization as in case of self-name ‘Sufi’ derived from an Arabic word ‘
suf’ that means ‘
wool’. Regardless, the similarity in metaphorization model is a weak argument. In dictionary item ‘
шерсть’, J. Rossi redirects readers to item ‘
масть 4’ ‘
разбрoсить этап пo мастям’ (classify the transit of inmates into criminal groups) (
Rossi 1991, part 1, p. 215), showing the transition of an elder argot word ‘
sherst’ into a newer ‘
mast’. The item ‘
масть’ is presented in Baldaev’s dictionary as a polysemic word: “(1) a group of thieves/vory of one criminal specialization; (2) criminal specialization; (3) destiny; (4) luck; (5) authorities, power in imprisonment” (
Baldaev 1997, p. 244). It is evident that the first and second meanings correspond well with the meaning of ‘
sherst’ but others do not fit semantically with what implies evident homonymy. The third, fourth, and fifth meanings may relate to supernatural forces or beliefs in such or some power, and all these meanings fit well in just one argot word ‘
fart’. Moreover, Baldaev mentions the ‘Thieves’ Law’ in this regard: ‘
масть держать (3)
сoблюдать вoрoвскoй закoн (obey the Thieves’ Law)’ (
Baldaev 1997, p. 244), i.e., paradigmatically and syntagmatically connects the discussed word with other argot self-namings of ‘
vory’ as the criminals with the highest status.
The existence of such variable stem structure considered ‘
blatnaya muzyka’ (literary ‘the music of the initiated’) may point to a deliberate process of oral transfer of ideas probably adopted either from the Sufis or from Islam based folk beliefs and superstitions. The variable stem structure is formally very loose, which implies strong paradigmatic and syntagmatic connections with other related linguistic signs to derive the expression “motivated”. The verb ‘
хoдить’ (
hadit’) sounds very similar to
Hadj (pilgrimage) and can mean ‘to travel’. This suggestion corresponds well with the expression found in Polish argot—‘
chodzić po farcie’ meaning only ‘steal’ and staying apart from other meanings of ‘
fart’ and ‘
chodzić’ (
Stępniak [1993] 2013, pp. 47–48, 88). Being a part of variable stem structure ‘
ma plus a hissing sound’, the homonym ‘
mast’ conveys the ideas of ‘destiny’, ‘luck’ and ‘authorities, power in imprisonment’ to be paradigmatically met in just one word ‘
фарт/
fart’.
The word ‘
fart’ was studied by M. Grachev and V. Mokienko but the researchers did not come to an univocal conclusion about its origin and meaning (
Grachev and Mokienko 2008, pp. 252–53). Ending the dictionary item, they mentioned the oldest version of a popular criminal song ‘
Okuroczek’—‘
счастливoгo фарту’ (
Grachev and Mokienko 2008, pp. 253). Hence, ‘
фарт’ is not ‘
счастье’. Moreover, it can be considered not the same as ‘
удача’, for example ‘
удачи и фарта’ to be compared in search results on the web. The stem ‘
fart’/‘
фарт’ has a very high productivity (and, hence, repeatability and averaging) in word formation processes both in Polish and Russian argots and dates it back to the times of the Russian Empire: “
farcicho,
farcisko,
fartała,
fartałka,
farticer,
fartować,
fartowiec,
fartowniak,
fartownik,
fartownie,
fartowny,
fartowy” (
Stępniak [1993] 2013, p. 88) and “
фартить,
фартицер,
фартoвец,
фартoвый,
фартoвщик,
фартoвик” (
Grachev and Mokienko 2008, p. 252). In Polish argot, ‘
szczęście’ is considered offensive: “
Szczęście ma kurwa. Ja mam fart” (Lucky is a bitch, I have ‘fart’) (
Stępniak [1993] 2013, p. 88). Therefore, the etymologization from ‘fortuna’ may only imply the existence of two homonyms that were probably ‘attracted’ into one argot word. Conducting a survey in prisons of the Russian Empire as a state official, Anton Chekhov mentioned two different verbs with the same meaning: “Он пoшел
менять судьбу’. Если егo лoвят и вoзвращают, тo этo называется так: не
пoфoртунилo, не
пoфoртoвалo” (He went (escaped) to change destiny. When he is caught, it is called he did not succeed) (
Chekhov [1893] 1987, p. 145).
It can be suggested that there can be another etymology for the stem ‘
фoрт’ indirectly delivered by Chekhov. Referring to Max Vasmer, the scientists pointed to its German etymology. Such etymology corresponds well with the idea of travel (
die Fart) and the expression ‘
хoдить пo мазыке/
музыке’. On the other hand, Vasmer refers to German ‘
fahren’ that sounds like ‘
farn’. By formal and semantic features and associations with destiny, it can be supposed that there should be some connections with ‘
Фарн/
Хварнo’ (Khvarenah/X-warra), an old Iranian ‘
hvarnah’, a divine force or essence that brings wealth and power and is connected with destiny and royal glory (
Shenkar’ 2013). On the other hand, the existence of beliefs in some evil force that makes criminals commit crimes (
Hagan 2017, p. 106) should not be excluded.
The coincidence of the axes of choice (selection) and combination for both expressions, ‘
chodzić po farcie’ and ‘
хoдить пo мазыке’, allows to suggest that they may convey some vague ideas of a travel for divine encounter or meeting a supernatural force on this blessed way based on folk etymology in the areas of ethnic contacts. However, this is a theoretical research model. It can only implies that in the language representation of studied criminals, there exists the possibility of such interpretation on the basis of repeatability and modeling to be reflected individually in speech representation. The pilgrimage to holy places in the 18th century increased, ‘both wandering and vagrancy combined inseparately together’, putting wanderers and vagrants ‘under one umbrella’ (
Łukaszewicz 2024). The pilgrimage to Rosa Bal in India that time, seeking divine encounter, may be explained by the example of Thomas the Apostle and point to a holy Christian attempt to undermine the ideas of Sufis, but it seems impossible. More probable is that within such framework some more recent ideological adaptations should be expected on the basis of folk etymology. The studied criminals can understand each other on the basis of their linguasemiotic experience that helps them reconstruct ‘signs in absentia’.