The revolution on the periphery and the reflection of 1989 in Slovakia

Photo: Doko Jozef Kotulič (CC) commons.wikimedia.org

Both scholars and direct participants offer diverse and contentious assessments of 1989 because it has become so central to perceptions of the current political malaise. Thus, although three decades have elapsed since the fall of the communist regimes, these events still lie within the realm of politics rather than scholarly historical research. It is still disputed what should have been done in 1989. Some claim that it was a mistake that communists were not removed entirely from the political scene. Others claim that the intellectuals who were the first to hold power should have accepted executive positions and led governments. Václav Havel’s naïve policy of embracing “truth and love” as a political method, they maintain, resulted in the removal of decent politicians by those who had no scruples. And then there are those who argue that 1989 was not a revolution at all, but rather a cynically-orchestrated act of political theatre to deceive the masses while preserving the communists’ political or economic dominance.

Belated response

Whatever the interpretation, the ethos of November 1989 in Czechoslovakia was a peaceful transition of non-violence and widespread support for dissidents and intellectuals in leading the country away from the despised communist regime. Subsequent developments can be perceived as a natural evolution after a revolutionary moment. In this essay, I focus on developments in Slovakia, as it provides a case of the fall of a communist regime as a belated response to momentous changes in Moscow and, more immediately, in Prague. It could be classified as a “revolution on the periphery” – a phenomenon describing how the wave of change travelled to provinces and distant cities from the centre.

A significant consideration is the different evolution in Slovakia, as compared to the Czech Republic (then part of the federal Czechoslovak Socialist Republic) during the two decades prior to 1989. This had an impact on the outcome in both countries during November 1989. Whereas in Prague, where Havel led the Civic Forum (OF), in Slovakia another organisation, Public against Violence (VPN), emerged – a movement created by the main protagonists of change in Slovakia. In both the Czech and Slovak parts of pre-1989 Czechoslovakia, no one outside the communist party structure was trained or prepared to take over political power. Hence, as political change occurred, the political leadership had to be formed ad hoc by those willing and brave enough to enter the political arena. The events in Slovakia were much more “a revolution on the periphery” as mentioned above. This is not to denigrate the role and efforts of those who become political leaders, rather it is a concept that describes the developments in Slovakia that emerged from two decades of the so-called “normalisation”.

What, then, is the centre-periphery relationship during sudden, systemic political changes? The revolution’s centre gathers conspiring, brave, risk-taking, sometimes reckless revolutionaries who are able to inspire, agitate and mobilise the masses. But how does revolution travel to the periphery, provinces or to distant large cities? Of course, this process varies widely, is always contingent and unexpected, and is not pre-planned. It is only in retrospect that some claim to be the originators and planners of change. Analyses of the events dispute this ex post appropriation of revolution far from the centre.

In general, the bearers of revolution in the periphery need to possess two key ingredients: information and the courage to act. Whoever has information about what is happening in the centre, and whoever is brave enough at the moment of change to step forward – when the outcome is not yet certain and danger still looms – becomes the bearers of revolution in the provinces.

In other words, whoever spoke for the dissatisfied and disaffected, and expressed in public what others believed but were still too afraid to say, was accepted by the masses as their political leaders. This new group became the leading force that faced and eventually replaced the local elements of the ancien régime. That is how political legitimacy is usually gained on the periphery. However, such legitimacy is much weaker, more fragile and short-lasting than legitimacy gained in the centre by forces that possessed it prior to the revolutionary change. Slovakia was such a case where the initial leaders soon lost popularity and were marginalised and pushed out of power. The former Soviet republics, especially the Baltic republics, were also in such a position.

Two normalisations

In order to understand the different development paths in Slovakia and the Czech Republic, we have to review their distinct evolution prior to 1989. In general, Slovakia as part of Czechoslovakia should be analysed in that context rather than separately. However, the developments leading up to 1989 exposed some crucial differences in both republics.

The invasion of Czechoslovakia in 1968 by Warsaw Pact armies[1] crushed any reform process for the subsequent two decades. The Soviet Union did everything to prevent any political deviation from Soviet-bloc homogeneity. Both Czechs and Slovaks were in the same boat facing the consequences of the Brezhnev Doctrine. The so-called normalisation period (1969-1989), was characterised by cynical maintenance of power during which even the communist leadership paid only lip service to Marxist ideology.

It was the occupation of Czechoslovakia that buried for good the belief of the Left throughout the world that Marx-Leninist system represents a viable alternative to liberal democracy. “The Biafra of Spirit” – as the conditions in Czechoslovakia in 1968 were called by French communist poet Louis Aragon – confirmed the crisis that started in 1968 in Paris, Prague and Bratislava and had an impact both on the West as well as communist bloc. The  reforms of 1968 would most likely fail even without being crushed, however, the brutal intervention set the precedent or confirmed that the communist regimes have no capacity to be reformed; either they are kept alive by force or they collapse. 

What differentiated the two nations was the way their elites reacted to the conditions of the normalisation period. While, among the general population, conditions and reactions were comparable, intellectuals, artists and some purged politicians reacted differently in the two republics. The strong dissident movement in the Czech Republic – politically seasoned by their struggle with the communist regime in the 1970s and 1980s – was a force to be reckoned with before and during 1989. The dissident movement in Slovakia, in contrast, was marginal, and thus did not and could not affect the political outcome during and after 1989.

These different conditions during the normalisation period had an impact on the legitimacy of those who took power in November in 1989 in both republics. It was quite natural for the numerous dissidents in the Czech Republic to assume power in November 1989. The population respected and recognised the dissidents, and the latter replaced compromised communist leaders with little controversy. In Slovakia, the tiny dissident movement was connected to Prague and Brno rather than to intellectuals in Bratislava or Košice. What emerged in 1988-1989, mainly in the capital Bratislava, was a mild protest movement that several sociologists have called an “archipelago of political deviance”. It contained relatively young communists and non-communists who were frustrated by the suffocating communist regime and watched with envy the developments in the USSR, Poland and Hungary. There was a group of environmental activists that somewhat overlapped with the “archipelago” group, with both remaining relatively separate from the Catholic activists who predominantly demanded freedom of worship for observant Catholics. It was this scenario that set the different stages in Prague and Bratislava in November 1989.

It should be added that the fall of the communist regime in Czechoslovakia could hardly have taken place if Gorbachev’s Soviet Union had not facilitated the change. There, Gorbachev not only tried to transform the USSR but also made clear to his communist allies that the Brezhnev Doctrine – promising Soviet military intervention if a communist regime is threatened in a satellite – would no longer be realised. The regime in Czechoslovakia was too rigid to allow peaceful change without this external impetus. The revolution started on November 17th in Prague with a brutal assault by security forces on peaceful demonstrators, which in turn provoked mass demonstrations that brought down the government. By then, the regimes had crumbled in Poland and Hungary and were disintegrating in East Germany.

VPN

So who then, in November 1989, were the brave and informed in Slovakia who were catapulted to the position of political leadership? They assumed the name Public Against Violence (VPN) and first met on November 19th, two days after the brutal events in Prague. The name VPN was coined as a reaction to the reported killing of a student in the Czech Republic. Initially, they were popular, respected and celebrated. There was in fact no one else to fill the political vacuum.

The VPN became a partner to Havel’s Civic Forum (OF). Yet it did not have the same legitimacy. The main protagonists were not dissidents who had fought the communist regime. The few dissidents in Slovakia (Miroslav Kusý, Milan Šimecka, Jozef Jablonický, Ivan Kadlečík, Hana Ponická, Juraj Špitzer) refused to become leaders, though they possessed legitimacy comparable to members of OF in Prague. Some of them, as former communists, did not feel they had the right to lead; others did not even consider a political career, wishing to resume their professional work as writers, historians and academics.[2]

In a few months, when it was clear that the communist regime was defeated and when the danger of repression had subsided, others showed up and wished to take part in government. Thus the VPN leaders, hampered by low legitimacy, internal division and their reluctance to take executive power, faced fierce competition and were soon swept away.

There were several groups that wished to govern at this time. Some young communists saw Gorbachev as their model, but felt they were kept at bay by President Gustáv Husák and General Secretary Miloš Jakeš. Other former communists were marginalised during the normalisation period but were prominent during 1968 and they saw after 1989 Alexander Dubček as their frontman. Religious groups, especially Catholics who suffered persecution and organised a “candle demonstration” in 1988, believed that because Slovakia is predominantly Catholic, they had legitimacy and the right to lead. Finally, there were nationalists who were, or became, anti-Czech and gradually demanded the break-up of Czechoslovakia. Never gaining more than five per cent support, the nationalists were prodded and supported by wartime Slovak diaspora who wished to exonerate fascist President Jozef Tiso. These nationalists and their followers later became anti-Hungarian, anti-Roma and anti-EU as well as pro-Putin, and now inspire the neo-Nazis in Slovakia.

As early as June 1990, during the first free election, the VPN, which was losing popularity, felt the need to co-opt some experienced communists and persuaded Dubček to join the VPN in order to win the general election. The OF in the Czech Republic had no need of such support and won overwhelmingly itself. The dissident Petr Pithart continued as prime minister of the Czech Republic, while Havel remained president although he had initially said that he would step down once free elections were held.

A reflection on historical memory

The question still remains: to what extent did the events of 1989 affect the present-day condition of Slovakia? What caused the subsequent developments? Was it the contingencies of the post-communist transformation, the impact of individual leaders, or mistakes by VPN members who had neither the governing experience nor the desire to enter executive office, and thus handed political power to others?

VPN was first split and then its original members were pushed out by those who joined later – those with political experience, a thirst for power, and often no scruples. First came Vladimír Mečiar, splitting the VPN and dividing Czechoslovakia.[3] Then came Robert Fico, masquerading as a social democrat yet overseeing the most corrupt and cynical of governments for almost 15 years. A skewed historical memory of the events of 1989 has played a significant role in the perception of the current political situation. Subsequent developments, including the break-up of Czechoslovakia, are presented differently by different political actors and traditions. It is not surprising that the younger generation remains confused and often somewhat oblivious to events during and immediately after 1989.

In fact, it is an irony that, although there is no restriction on historical research, there are still no textbooks of modern history for elementary and high school students in Slovakia. Hence, historical memory of the younger generation about 1989 is informed not by a scholarly debate among historians and intellectuals but mostly by what their family background offers them or, these days, what social media feeds them. Not surprisingly, it is among teenagers in Slovakia – ignorant of their history and fed by propaganda and fake news – that the neo-Nazis have the largest support base.

Three decades after the fall of the communist regime, interpretations of 1989 differ according to the current political leanings of individuals rather than as a result of some broad consensus. The historical memory of November 1989 is being moulded and interpreted depending on the political representation in power. It seems that the fragile “revolution on the periphery”, characterised by weak legitimacy of those few who were brave enough to take political responsibility in 1989, has cast a long shadow over the political instability that still burdens Slovakia today.

Yet there are signs that the ensuing three decades of turmoil, corruption and partisan politics has become a source of frustration, especially for the younger generation, and there is a widespread desire to clean up public affairs. It is significant that the same young people who demand these changes are turning towards those who were swept away after 1989 but preserved their high moral standing and decency. It is as if the call for justice on the squares in various Slovak cities over the past two years, since the brutal murders of young journalist Ján Kuciak and his fiancée Martina Kušnírová, echoed the calls for civility and tolerance by the original VPN leaders. There is, perhaps, a continuity of decency and political good that a society returns to intermittently after decades of political turmoil and moral malaise.

This essay is based on a lecture given at Jesus College, University of Cambridge on November 2nd, 2019 at Cambridge Central European Conference 2019: Post-1989 Transformation and Historical Memory.

Samuel Abrahám is the editor in chief and publisher of the journal Kritika&Kontext and rector of Bratislava International School of Liberal Arts.

[1] The term “Warsaw Pact invasion” is technically correct because small elements of the occupying forces were from Poland, Hungary, Bulgaria and East Germany. However, it was basically an invasion by the Soviet Army that used the participation of Warsaw Pact allies to provide a veneer of international support. At the last moment before the invasion, the East German troops were asked not to enter Czechoslovakia. For one, the Soviets did not need them and, second, inviting the “German” army 30 years after occupation of Czechoslovakia was symbolically too volatile.

[2] I devoted a whole issue of Kritika&Kontext to Kusý, including a long interview in which he explained why he gave up the premiership, thereby opening the door to Vladimír Mečiar, who eventually took over and became an authoritarian leader.

[3] Mečiar was not a nationalist, but as a former secret police (ŠtB) agent he was afraid of being pushed aside if Czechoslovakia was preserved and a law preventing members of the ŠtB from holding public office for five years was applied. Paradoxically, this law was never implemented – even in the Czech Republic.

memory, post-1989, Slovakia, Velvet Revolution, VPN