| |
Dr. Vladimir Tismaneanu is professor of politics at the University
of Maryland–College Park and author of numerous books, including
Stalinism for All Seasons: A Political History of Romanian Communism
(University of California Press, 2003).
Fifteen years ago, who could have imagined that countries
belonging to the Warsaw Pact would become NATO members? Who could
have dreamt that these countries would enter the European Union?
And yet these things have happened as a result of the events that
led to the collapse of Leninist regimes in Central and Eastern Europe
in 1989 and the demise of the USSR in 1991. The following years
of post-communist transition were marked by high expectations and
noble dreams of justice, equality and freedom—as well as anxieties,
frustrations and deep disappointments. Nevertheless, what was once
behind the Iron Curtain has become a region of democratic change
and potential, one that saw the Ukrainian “Orange Revolution”
and the end of the Iliescu era in Romania in the last months of
2004.
Since 1989, free and fair elections have taken place in all Central
and Eastern European countries, but the results have been mixed.
Some countries have instituted robust democratic practices and institutions.
Others have lagged behind, their leaders relying on authoritarian
methods and tolerating high levels of political and economic corruption.
On the whole, the democratic picture is encouraging. However, it
is also complex and contradictory.
On
the positive side, popular sovereignty has replaced the monopolistic
dictatorship of self-appointed “proletarian vanguards.”
Enforced ideological unanimity has vanished. Journalists, in most
of these countries, are free and outspoken. The rule of law has
been established, albeit imperfectly, and is now intertwined with
the everyday life of these societies. While in some countries, liberal
parties had moved worryingly toward populist nationalism, this movement—which
threatened some democracies in the early 1990s—seems to have
subsided. For the most part, the new democracies of the post-communist
transition have managed to contain illiberal movements and forces—although
recently the latter have resurfaced in opposition to membership
with the European Union (e.g., the “self-defense” movement
in Poland).
Despite these grand political accomplishments, there have nevertheless
been significant setbacks and disappointments. After the initial
joy and euphoria of a major historical cleavage—and the revolutions
of 1989 were indeed such a phenomenon—some people feel despondent
or betrayed during the slow work of building a new political order.
As political thinker Ralf Dahrendorf has noted, “The revolution
of 1989, like other revolutions before it, was bound to disappoint
those who entered it with extravagant hopes for a new world of unconstrained
discourse, equality and fundamental democracy.”
While democracy in form and style definitely exists in Central
and Eastern Europe, the existence of democratic values, indeed the
democratic ethos, remains questionable. The political landscape
in post-communist countries remains haunted by pre-modern political
specters such as tribal collectivism, clerical fundamentalism and
ethnocentric populism, which produce suspicion and intolerance of
the fundamental democratic value of political pluralism. In some
countries, while pluralist values were exalted early on during the
transition, collectivist fantasies and frequent outbursts of xenophobic
intolerance (anti-Semitism, anti-Roma, anti-minorities in general)
have unfortunately followed.
Post-communist societies undergoing transition have also been plagued
by the familiar challenges of graft, cynicism and loss of citizen
momentum. Privatization, initially seen as a magic solution to all
economic hardship, was too often used as a smoke screen by new (and
not-so-new) predatory elites who plundered resources and imposed
personal economic hegemony (primarily, but not exclusively, in collusion
with foreign capital). Cynicism and contempt for intellectual critique
are rampant, while narratives of self-pity and self-glorification
remain disturbingly present. The initially vibrant civil societies
of these countries have lost much of their impetus, the former dissidents
have become increasingly marginalized, and former Communist Party
apparatchiks have managed to preserve political prominence in countries
like Poland, Romania and, to some extent, Hungary. In other words,
the battle for democracy continues, and in some places the post-communist
landscape is one of uncertainty, disarray and ongoing struggle between
friends and foes of an open society.
Despite these mixed results, we should avoid the temptation to
describe the post-communist transition as an utter failure in some
countries and an unmitigated success in others. No transition has
been completely smooth, and differences in the speed and scope of
democratization should not be unexpected. In fact, the Central and
Eastern European experiences illustrate two types of transition
from ideological Leninist party rule to open societies.
The first type of transition characterizes the experiences of the
Czech Republic, Hungary and Poland, which have achieved considerable
democratic success. Each has built a relatively predictable party
system and has developed a widespread constitutional consensus that
stands against onslaughts from the radical extremes of the left
and right. In these countries, democratic procedure is widely accepted
as the only game in town. The second type of transition is found
in Romania, Bulgaria, the countries of the former Yugoslavia, and
Albania, where democratic consolidation has been more difficult
to achieve. But even in these countries, the trend has been towards
stronger democratic institutions, in spite of occasional, yet disquieting,
government attempts to limit the freedom of the media and the independence
of the judiciary.
Many scholars and journalists point to allegedly “civilizing”
fault lines to explain the differences in these two types of democratic
transition. In each case, they link the nature of transition to
historical legacies, cultural factors and institutional memories.
To illustrate, Central and Eastern Europe, with its Hapsburgian
legacies of the rule of law, civil society and Western-style institutions
(such as parliaments), is often contrasted with the Balkans, which
had fewer comparable institutions under Ottoman rule or afterwards.
Whatever oversimplification this historical comparison yields, it
is hard to deny that democratic traditions do matter and that—in
societies without them—democratic values and institutions
have proven to be more vulnerable and beleaguered. This is particularly
true in places where ethnic nationalism historically has been a
political religion. However, change is always possible. Democratic
invention is an ongoing process and societies that may appear doomed
by apathy can suddenly rediscover the formidable potential of pluralism,
as in the case of Serbia after Milosevic or Romania after the December
2004 presidential election of Traian Basescu.
In reflecting on the post-communist period, we have an opportunity
to revisit our illusions regarding revolutions and transitions.
With the benefit of hindsight, we can say today that the unrestrained
exaltation of the market and the celebration of party politics made
many of us oblivious to the economic, moral and psychological realities
of these societies. While corruption has been the major plague afflicting
democratic transition in Central and Eastern Europe, enormous socioeconomic
disparities have also played a critical role in undermining consolidation.
Those living in significantly poorer economic circumstances now
(as compared to 15 years ago) might argue that the empty idealism
of communism was in fact replaced by the sordid materialism of naked
self-interest, or, more ominously, by populist demagoguery. Was
it worth the fight?
I must answer yes. The simple fact that such issues are now freely
debated in all formerly communist societies is the most convincing
argument for a positive assessment of the post-communist era since
1989. Whatever the ugly features of what Václav Havel once
diagnosed as the post-communist nightmare, one thing is certain:
the times of regimented unanimity and forced acceptance of the Communist
Party-dictated concept of human happiness are over.
© 2005 IFES
|