Volkov, a defected engineer who arrived in New York in 1968, was no oligarch. His estate consisted of a modest savings account at Chase Manhattan, a 1972 Chevrolet Impala, and a collection of technical drawings for a hydraulic pump he hoped to patent. But his will—handwritten in Russian on a single sheet of lined paper, then translated and notarized at the Russian Orthodox Cathedral of St. Nicholas—set a legal precedent that Soviet émigrés and American trust attorneys have watched closely.
Legal historians note that Volkov’s probate came just as détente was thawing U.S.-Soviet relations. Yet the precedent has outlasted the USSR itself. Following the Soviet collapse, several former republics cited the Volkov case in negotiating reciprocal inheritance treaties with the United States. Volkov, a defected engineer who arrived in New
New York, 1974
Volkov’s beneficiaries were two: his American-born daughter, Irina, and the legal aid fund that helped him gain asylum. “Papa wanted to prove that even a man without a country could have a last word,” Irina told reporters outside the courthouse. “He used to say, ‘The state owns your life in Russia, but your death belongs to you.’” Nicholas—set a legal precedent that Soviet émigrés and
The Red Scare’s Last Testament: Inside the First Probate of a Soviet Citizen’s Will in American Courts probate is granted.”
What made the case truly unprecedented was the ripple effect. Until Volkov, U.S. banks and title companies routinely froze assets held by Soviet citizens, assuming that any will would be unenforceable without diplomatic recognition of inheritance rights. The State Department, asked for an amicus brief, declined to intervene—silence that the court interpreted as acquiescence.
The court agreed. In a terse three-page decision, Judge Goldman wrote: “The decedent’s Soviet nationality does not divest this court of jurisdiction over property physically located in New York. His will is self-proving under EPTL 3-2.1. Therefore, probate is granted.”