A Polish dissident once told me, “If it took 40 years to create this mentality, why shouldn’t it take 40 years to undo it?” Indeed, though we’ve now surpassed 20 years since the Berlin Wall was torn down, Central and Eastern Europe remain a work in progress. Everything that happens within these young democracies must be seen through the prism of what happened here during four decades of Communism, and how far the region has evolved since. Here, then, is a look at twenty years... and counting.
Mitteleuropa: Not Just a State of Mind
HAINBURG, Austria – Lounging by the pool in this medieval Austrian town, overlooked by 17th century castle ruins on a hilltop nearby, you can enjoy a schnitzel, a schnappsor an eiskaffee mit schlag. But listen closely, and virtually all you hear on the blankets of fellow sun-bathers is the Slovak language.
Seeing Things For Myself
PRAGUE – I’m no war correspondent. (Though, rubber bullets whizzing overhead, in a night-time street battle during Albania’s 1997 civil unrest, wasn’t exactly fluffy feature-writing.
Chasing Gabor
Bratislava, SLOVAKIA – To be fair, I didn’t give Gabor Vona much warning.
When Foreign Policy contacted me about writing a profile of Vona, an exciting new leader for the far right in Europe, my first goal was to humanize him a bit. That meant visiting his hometown and provincial corner of northeast Hungary. I only had thirty-six hours to do it, so I had to prioritize.
The Rise of the Hungarian Right
Gyongyos, Hungary -- While running for a parliamentary seat in Hungary's April elections, far-right candidate Gabor Vona made one campaign promise that was controversial even by his standards: If voted into parliament, the 31-year-old extremist would report for duty wearing the insignia of his outlawed paramilitary organization, the "Hungarian Guard" -- a taboo symbol that, with its ancient, red-and-white-striped emblem, bears a striking resemblance to the flag of Hungary's Nazi-era fascist party, Arrow Cross.
"Arrivederci, Taliansko!"
BRATISLAVA – That’s what the Slovak commentator screamed from the TV.
Goodbye, Italy!
How about ‘dem Slovaks?! Our scrappy Central European friends today sent the reigning champion – mighty Italy – tumbling out of the World Cup, 3-2. Even I cheered in the pub today.
“After you, France … Want to share a taxi to the airport?”
Trianon's Trials (Part 2 of 2)
[Read Part 1 here] Slovaks are understandably sensitive to jabs from across the river: for centuries they lived under the Hungarian csizma, or boot. Most castles here are lined with portraits of Hungarian nobility, while churches are engraved with Hungarian bishops and priests. Aside from its short stint as a Nazi quisling, Slovakia earned its first real independence in 1993, when it peacefully split with the Czech Republic.
Trianon's Trials (Part 1 of 2)
BRATISLAVA – There’s nothing that nationalists in Central Europe relish more than to commemorate an historic injustice, harping on their victimization. If it falls during an election campaign, even better.
The 90-year-old Treaty of Trianon – which dismembered the old Kingdom of Hungary, carving up its land and its people – has resurfaced in an ugly spat between Slovakia and Hungary, influencing elections in both. In the middle of this scrum is the half-million-strong Hungarian minority in Slovakia.
The Phobia of New Things
BRATISLAVA – Slovakia, like its neighbors in Central Europe, has one of the tiniest percentages of Muslims in the entire European Union: an estimated 5,000 in a population of 5.4 million.
Yet that doesn’t mean off-the-beaten-path Slovakia isn’t worried by trends across the Western half of the continent.
Czech Education, In Three Acts
PRAGUE, Czech Republic – Beyond the fact that Prague is one of Europe’s great cities, you can’t walk down a street here – or anywhere in ex-Communist Eastern Europe, for that matter – and not spot a metaphor that illuminates how dramatically life has changed here, twenty years later.
And if I didn’t have this blog, there’d be no one for me to tell. (Sniff, sniff.)
The Media and Its Landmines
BRATISLAVA—Peter is a young Slovak journalist, just 21, and splits his time between writing for the financial-advice pages of a leading economic paper and finishing his university degree.
When I was a greenhorn reporter like him—in the inland deserts of Southern California—I, too, could be intimidated by an imperious, tough-talking official. So I wasn’t surprised to hear of Peter’s recent struggle to extract information from a spokesman for the Slovak social-insurance agency whom he says is “famous for answering by saying nothing.”
