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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
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