An Enduring Nostalgia for Socialism
Two decades after its demise, communism is still preferred by many Czechs
By Angela Almeida
Secret police files. Corrupt government apparatchiks. Safeguards against nuclear attack. Sometimes, it seems the Communist regime never left the Czech Republic.
To an outsider, the country seems free from the strains of totalitarian rule. Czech citizens have liberties that appear as age-old as any democratic nation. And yet, opinion polls confirm that a number of Czechs are nostalgic for a socialist state. Even the Communist Party of Czech and Moravia (KSČM) remains strong and in existence.
Less than ageneration after the Velvet Revolution, the Czech Republic is still suffering from a communist hangover. The term sheds light on the underlying aspects of communism that should have dissolved with the introduction of democracy, but never did. Which raises a critical question for Czechs concerned about the future: Where do we go from here?
“This is basically a confused society after 22 years,” Jiri Pehe, the director of NYU Prague, said.
Mr. Pehe served as the chief political advisor to President Václav Havel, and saw the challenges behind creating a market-oriented society firsthand. The transitional period following the Velvet Revolution hinged upon preparing Czechs for democracy, capitalism and an even more daunting task — competition.
“After this traumatic experience, people had to all of a sudden get up from their couches and be citizens again,” Mr. Pehe said. “It was not very easy, and is not entirely working until now.”
In 1948, Czechoslovakia became the only European state to vote communists into power. This ushered in a socialist political system that guaranteed jobs and social security for everyone. It also ensured that the state would dictate nearly every facet of daily life — where citizens would work, live and go to school. Part of the appeal of the Soviet era rested in never having to make decisions for oneself.
Such security appears to be the underlying basis for the continuing communist nostalgia. After all, the unemployment rate in Czechoslovakia was at a low 0.8 percent in 1990. It has since soared to 6.8 percent in the Czech Republic and 14 percent in Slovakia. Newly formed democracy could not guarantee shelter, nor did it ensure that the price of food would not fluctuate. (Food prices tripled between the years of 1989 and 1991, and dramatically rose again with new taxes and a 3.8 percent inflation rate in early 2012).
For the older Czech generation, these figures offer a concrete point of comparison — communist stability vs. capitalist uncertainty. They do not reflect the constant threat of secret police, nor the caution and pressure to inform on your neighbors that was an inherent part of life under communism.For the 29 percent of Czechs who answered “Yes” to the question of whether they desired a return to communism in 2004, it seems democracy failed to override the comfort of systematized everyday life.
“Personally, I think that the entire system fell apart within the past 20 years,” Jakub Ortuba, a 26-year resident of the Czech Republic, said. “I don’t understand what the hell happened.”
Mr. Ortuba works as a security guard in Holešovice and has lived in Prague his entire life. Raised by a single mother who worked in an elevator factory, Mr. Ortuba vividly remembers her reminiscing about having more money and time to raise children under communism. A self-proclaimed anarchist, he now espouses the ideologies passed down from his mother.
“During communism, at least we had better social care and one of the best health care systems,” Mr. Ortuba said. “I think it was better for common folk.”
Only weeks after the fall of communism, Czechs were suddenly confronted with open borders and the question of where the country was headed. Institutional modernization weighed heavily on those who had lived 40 years under the insular, watchful eye of the regime. Families like Mr. Ortuba’s were exposed to profound changes in a short period of time.
“People were used to a certain kind of life. Then, things started changing,” Mr. Pehe said. “They suddenly had this outside world open to them. It was a big attack on peoples’ psyche.”
How the social dynamic changed in Czechoslovakia is obvious. Citizens could suddenly travel and foreigners could visit. Writers and artists abandoned their posts for politics (Václav Havel), while a number of communists mapped out their next step into public office (Štefan Füle).
The division of public and private behavior no longer existed. Speaking freely came without the threat of jail time. Did citizens seize the day, heralding anti-Stalinist views from atop the Orloj? Hardly. There was still a latent level of distrust that resulted from being an outpost of Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union for the past five decades.
“The most enduring legacy from my point of view is the lack of trust in society, especially towards institutions and law,” Vojtech Ripka, the head of the documentation unit at the Institute for the Study of Totalitarian Regimes, said.
The Institute was established in 2007 to sift through the thousands of archives left over from the communist era. This task includes analyzing secret police files that sentenced a number of political dissidents to jail. Since the reality of the regime is only now coming into focus, Mr. Ripka disagrees with the use of the word “hangover,” and instead prefers the term “legacy.”
“I do not think that ‘hangover’ is a well-defined concept,” Mr. Ripka said. “First, one has to distill the ‘communist’ part of the hangover.”
This minor correction reflects the divergent views among academics and other experts about what exactly to call the communist past that persists in the present. Mary Heimann, author of the notoriously controversial book “Czechoslovakia: The State That Failed,” believes it is too early to speak of any legacy.
“It’s not even been one generation since the 1989 change of the regime,” Ms. Heimann said. “More and more, I am struck with the longer-term continuities across regime changes.”
Ms. Heimann is an American who received ardent backlash for her portrayal of Czechoslovak history. She argued that Czechs and Slovaks wholeheartedly embraced communism from the beginning, with many citizens choosing to become informants. Even after the revolution, Ms. Heimann notes that the country did not fully get rid of communism, thereby preserving its place in Parliament today.
Ms. Heimann holds the Czechoslovak people responsible for a portion of their own suffering. The following excerpt from her book highlights just how unprepared they were to change to a democratic government:
“The models of the non-Communist future that people carried in their heads were not only sketchy but utopian, often based on little more than crude inversions of the known evils associated with the Communist system, together with a smattering of pro-Western propaganda up from Voice of America or Radio Free Europe. ‘The West,’ which tended to be seen as an undifferentiated mass (much as the ‘Eastern bloc’ was viewed in Western countries), was believed, almost as an article of faith, to be rich, modern, and free. Little, if any, serious attention was paid to the price that Westerners typically paid for these benefits through job insecurity, lower welfare provision, longer working hours and higher crime rates.”
For Czechs, the turbulent 20th-century made it difficult to rationalize strife that could have been self-inflicted. In essence, the Czech Republic was shuffled from fascism to communism to democracy without an effective road map. If any hangover exists, it could be argued that it is the product of an ambivalent Czech identity.
“It’s sort of ridiculous when you think about the fact that 23 years ago the name of Tomáš Masaryk could not be spoken in this country, and now every square is named Masaryk Square,” Mr. Pehe said. “It only shows you how this nation sort of goes wall-to-wall.”
Today, the Communist Party of Czech and Moravia (KSČM) remains the third-strongest in the Czech Parliament. It is the only surviving communist party in the former Soviet satellite states, and maintains its hard-line stance. Various attempts have been made to stifle the party’s strength; however, the number of Czech supporters remains strong.
In the spring of 2012, with the government once again struggling with charges and counter-charges of corruption, an opinion poll revealed that 39.2 percent of Czech voters prefer a government that includes the KSČM.
A deeper look around Prague reveals how even the infrastructure speaks of a past era. Below the city streets, 800 permanent bunkers are maintained as bomb shelters that can protect 40 percent of the local population in the event of a nuclear attack. They are equipped with their own ventilation systems, electricity and water supplies — all elements once instituted to protect citizens against the threat of a Cold War invasion.
On the first Wednesday of every month, air raid sirens can still be heard throughout the city. Formerly harbingers of a nuclear attack, they now echo an era that has yet to fully leave. A time that has yet to be fully understood.
“The hangover and its effect is definitely going to change,” Mr. Ripka said. “But completely vanishing is not probable in the next 50 years.”
By Angela Almeida
Secret police files. Corrupt government apparatchiks. Safeguards against nuclear attack. Sometimes, it seems the Communist regime never left the Czech Republic.
To an outsider, the country seems free from the strains of totalitarian rule. Czech citizens have liberties that appear as age-old as any democratic nation. And yet, opinion polls confirm that a number of Czechs are nostalgic for a socialist state. Even the Communist Party of Czech and Moravia (KSČM) remains strong and in existence.
Less than ageneration after the Velvet Revolution, the Czech Republic is still suffering from a communist hangover. The term sheds light on the underlying aspects of communism that should have dissolved with the introduction of democracy, but never did. Which raises a critical question for Czechs concerned about the future: Where do we go from here?
“This is basically a confused society after 22 years,” Jiri Pehe, the director of NYU Prague, said.
Mr. Pehe served as the chief political advisor to President Václav Havel, and saw the challenges behind creating a market-oriented society firsthand. The transitional period following the Velvet Revolution hinged upon preparing Czechs for democracy, capitalism and an even more daunting task — competition.
“After this traumatic experience, people had to all of a sudden get up from their couches and be citizens again,” Mr. Pehe said. “It was not very easy, and is not entirely working until now.”
In 1948, Czechoslovakia became the only European state to vote communists into power. This ushered in a socialist political system that guaranteed jobs and social security for everyone. It also ensured that the state would dictate nearly every facet of daily life — where citizens would work, live and go to school. Part of the appeal of the Soviet era rested in never having to make decisions for oneself.
Such security appears to be the underlying basis for the continuing communist nostalgia. After all, the unemployment rate in Czechoslovakia was at a low 0.8 percent in 1990. It has since soared to 6.8 percent in the Czech Republic and 14 percent in Slovakia. Newly formed democracy could not guarantee shelter, nor did it ensure that the price of food would not fluctuate. (Food prices tripled between the years of 1989 and 1991, and dramatically rose again with new taxes and a 3.8 percent inflation rate in early 2012).
For the older Czech generation, these figures offer a concrete point of comparison — communist stability vs. capitalist uncertainty. They do not reflect the constant threat of secret police, nor the caution and pressure to inform on your neighbors that was an inherent part of life under communism.For the 29 percent of Czechs who answered “Yes” to the question of whether they desired a return to communism in 2004, it seems democracy failed to override the comfort of systematized everyday life.
“Personally, I think that the entire system fell apart within the past 20 years,” Jakub Ortuba, a 26-year resident of the Czech Republic, said. “I don’t understand what the hell happened.”
Mr. Ortuba works as a security guard in Holešovice and has lived in Prague his entire life. Raised by a single mother who worked in an elevator factory, Mr. Ortuba vividly remembers her reminiscing about having more money and time to raise children under communism. A self-proclaimed anarchist, he now espouses the ideologies passed down from his mother.
“During communism, at least we had better social care and one of the best health care systems,” Mr. Ortuba said. “I think it was better for common folk.”
Only weeks after the fall of communism, Czechs were suddenly confronted with open borders and the question of where the country was headed. Institutional modernization weighed heavily on those who had lived 40 years under the insular, watchful eye of the regime. Families like Mr. Ortuba’s were exposed to profound changes in a short period of time.
“People were used to a certain kind of life. Then, things started changing,” Mr. Pehe said. “They suddenly had this outside world open to them. It was a big attack on peoples’ psyche.”
How the social dynamic changed in Czechoslovakia is obvious. Citizens could suddenly travel and foreigners could visit. Writers and artists abandoned their posts for politics (Václav Havel), while a number of communists mapped out their next step into public office (Štefan Füle).
The division of public and private behavior no longer existed. Speaking freely came without the threat of jail time. Did citizens seize the day, heralding anti-Stalinist views from atop the Orloj? Hardly. There was still a latent level of distrust that resulted from being an outpost of Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union for the past five decades.
“The most enduring legacy from my point of view is the lack of trust in society, especially towards institutions and law,” Vojtech Ripka, the head of the documentation unit at the Institute for the Study of Totalitarian Regimes, said.
The Institute was established in 2007 to sift through the thousands of archives left over from the communist era. This task includes analyzing secret police files that sentenced a number of political dissidents to jail. Since the reality of the regime is only now coming into focus, Mr. Ripka disagrees with the use of the word “hangover,” and instead prefers the term “legacy.”
“I do not think that ‘hangover’ is a well-defined concept,” Mr. Ripka said. “First, one has to distill the ‘communist’ part of the hangover.”
This minor correction reflects the divergent views among academics and other experts about what exactly to call the communist past that persists in the present. Mary Heimann, author of the notoriously controversial book “Czechoslovakia: The State That Failed,” believes it is too early to speak of any legacy.
“It’s not even been one generation since the 1989 change of the regime,” Ms. Heimann said. “More and more, I am struck with the longer-term continuities across regime changes.”
Ms. Heimann is an American who received ardent backlash for her portrayal of Czechoslovak history. She argued that Czechs and Slovaks wholeheartedly embraced communism from the beginning, with many citizens choosing to become informants. Even after the revolution, Ms. Heimann notes that the country did not fully get rid of communism, thereby preserving its place in Parliament today.
Ms. Heimann holds the Czechoslovak people responsible for a portion of their own suffering. The following excerpt from her book highlights just how unprepared they were to change to a democratic government:
“The models of the non-Communist future that people carried in their heads were not only sketchy but utopian, often based on little more than crude inversions of the known evils associated with the Communist system, together with a smattering of pro-Western propaganda up from Voice of America or Radio Free Europe. ‘The West,’ which tended to be seen as an undifferentiated mass (much as the ‘Eastern bloc’ was viewed in Western countries), was believed, almost as an article of faith, to be rich, modern, and free. Little, if any, serious attention was paid to the price that Westerners typically paid for these benefits through job insecurity, lower welfare provision, longer working hours and higher crime rates.”
For Czechs, the turbulent 20th-century made it difficult to rationalize strife that could have been self-inflicted. In essence, the Czech Republic was shuffled from fascism to communism to democracy without an effective road map. If any hangover exists, it could be argued that it is the product of an ambivalent Czech identity.
“It’s sort of ridiculous when you think about the fact that 23 years ago the name of Tomáš Masaryk could not be spoken in this country, and now every square is named Masaryk Square,” Mr. Pehe said. “It only shows you how this nation sort of goes wall-to-wall.”
Today, the Communist Party of Czech and Moravia (KSČM) remains the third-strongest in the Czech Parliament. It is the only surviving communist party in the former Soviet satellite states, and maintains its hard-line stance. Various attempts have been made to stifle the party’s strength; however, the number of Czech supporters remains strong.
In the spring of 2012, with the government once again struggling with charges and counter-charges of corruption, an opinion poll revealed that 39.2 percent of Czech voters prefer a government that includes the KSČM.
A deeper look around Prague reveals how even the infrastructure speaks of a past era. Below the city streets, 800 permanent bunkers are maintained as bomb shelters that can protect 40 percent of the local population in the event of a nuclear attack. They are equipped with their own ventilation systems, electricity and water supplies — all elements once instituted to protect citizens against the threat of a Cold War invasion.
On the first Wednesday of every month, air raid sirens can still be heard throughout the city. Formerly harbingers of a nuclear attack, they now echo an era that has yet to fully leave. A time that has yet to be fully understood.
“The hangover and its effect is definitely going to change,” Mr. Ripka said. “But completely vanishing is not probable in the next 50 years.”