History of Casinos in the USSR: How Things Were with Card Games 40 or More Years Ago

People’s Commissars closed commercial card rooms in the early 1920s. City police departments raided basements, apartments, and “interest clubs.” Former cafes turned into quiet rooms with overturned crates instead of tables, decks with smoothed edges, and notebooks of debts. Formally, the legislation drove gambling underground in the USSR; in reality, players moved their meetings to communal kitchenettes and workshop changing rooms.

In newspapers, the ban looked like an everyday measure: one announcement at the House of Culture, a couple of phrases at the meeting, a visit from the local police officer between inspections. Against this backdrop, the history of casinos in the USSR began not with chips and lamps, but with late-night games in kitchens—quiet, brief. The marker of the place was Moscow: there discipline and inspectors came more often than in the provinces.

History of Casinos in the USSR in the 1930s

Directors of cultural houses rearranged evening programs for harmless “chess-quiz” meetings—without money and conflicts, under the light of green lamps and the sound of chips. In small halls, the mass organizer spread heavy tablecloths on tables, the supply manager brought a box of chips “for accounting,” the electrician clicked the switch—green lampshades cast a warm glow on the deck and plaques. The host briefly explained the rules, the duty officer set the timer for the round, the audience sat in a semicircle; tables were noisily pushed closer, and the game settled into a calm rhythm—quiet remarks, clear order, prizes on the stand by the stage.

This format fit into the Soviet language of “cultural mass work” and did not provoke inspections. When choirs sang in large halls, behind the curtain in the small hall, a game of preference was played: the host recorded the score, disputes were settled before the start. In the chronicle of the decade, the history of casinos in the USSR is felt through the people on the stage—the club director approves the script, the mass organizer sets the pace, the supply manager hands out props.

Metro, Laundries, Workshops: Post-War Time

In underpasses, at laundries near factories, in dormitories, “spots” appeared: a table, a deck of cards, a jar for small change. There was little talk and quick counting. The informal host was the shift supervisor or a dismissed master; for order—a “senior at the table.” Money for the pot was collected in cash—bills passed from hand to hand, trying not to rustle unnecessarily. Bets were kept within reasonable limits—salary was not elastic, the attention of the local police officer was irrelevant. In good company, a dealer was not needed: the change was monitored by someone trusted. Attempts to “speed up” the game ended harshly—the cheat lost their place and address.

1970s: Lottery Respite

The city saw a legal outlet for waiting for luck—sport lotteries. “Soyuzpechat” kiosks sold tickets next to newspapers, announcers declared draws on fixed days, accountants accepted reports. The lottery defused the tension around card games—shifting the conversation about money into a format approved by both authorities and neighbors in the stairwell. Meanwhile, in workshop rooms and at dachas, cards continued to be played. In the public agenda, the gambling business in the USSR sounded “muted,” but the newspapers associated the word “legalization” precisely with lotteries and quizzes, not with table stakes. In this context, the history of casinos in the USSR looks like a dispersed compromise: the stage—for souvenirs, the kiosk—for tickets, the evening—for one’s own company.

South, Restaurants, “Tea” Rooms

Resort cities like Sochi, Yalta, and Tbilisi set a different rhythm. Here, the history of casinos in the USSR unfolded not in basements but through banquets, staircase halls, and signs of “interest clubs.” Sochi had a busy season: after dinner, hotel restaurants transformed their halls for short “evenings.” Decorations changed: tablecloths disappeared, decks were placed on the table; the waiter turned into a dealer, the administrator collected a “hall rental fee”—essentially, an entry fee to the game. Poker companies had the best dynamics (five cards, one exchange).

Roulette was rarely installed—noisy, noticeable, risky. In Yalta, they preferred a softer format: “club meetings” at holiday homes. In Tbilisi, “tea rooms” were labeled as literary gatherings, with fixed guest lists. Everything was based on silent agreements: who brought the cards, who managed the bank, who stood at the door and knocked if strangers arrived. Here, the gambling business looked like a craft, not a network, and lasted until the first leak of the address.

What inspectors saw in the south:

1. Banquet halls after the last dinner: five to six tables, a separate entrance from the service corridor.
   
2. Journals—guest lists, surnames in abbreviation: “Kvirkv.,” “Dzhapar.,” “Petr.” Next to them—a regular notebook sheet with numbers and notes: who placed bets, how much was put in the bank, who still owed.
   
3. “Rental fee” converted into a common pool; the administrator did not accept money beyond the limit.
   
4. The host was usually chosen by the hall itself—who knew the rules, led the game. It could be a waiter or an administrator accustomed to maintaining order between dishes and drinks. If an argument flared up—they acted quickly. Quietly reshuffled. Or deducted from the bank. Sometimes—took a ten-minute break, as if to “air out.”
   
5. For camouflage—quieter music, spotlighting, windows covered with thick curtains.
   
6. Internal rule: “no debts till tomorrow”—debt disrupts the rhythm and invites inspection.

History of Casinos in the USSR: Final Turn

Perestroika brought “white” forms of leisure—cooperative programs, cultural evenings, early closure of halls. Organizers issued passes, lists, and stationed guards at the entrance. Somewhere the idea of “controlled leisure” was voiced, but the ban on table stakes remained equally strict. In urban news, the expression “first casinos in the USSR” briefly appeared, but it referred to halls with shows and souvenirs—not cashiers and banks. By the end of the decade, control was tightened again, and the 1980s closed the chapter of public card gambling until the next era. In this final act, the history of casinos in the USSR wraps up neatly: lotteries remain, interactive games live on stage, and private evening tables return to small companies.