War is Over?

In Central and Eastern Europe, there are mixed feelings over the 60th anniversary marking the end of the Second World War

Although throughout western Europe and beyond the end of the Second World War is regarded in more or less the the same way, in Central and Eastern Europe views are mixed, varying from elation to indifference, with varying shades in-between. In some cases, the civil war in Yugoslavia was seen as the last chapter in the conflict, in much the same way that many regard the Second World War as merely a continuation of the First World War.

It should come as no surprise that Russia celebrates the end of the Second World War with much fanfare. It's a public holiday and various celebrations and events commemorating their struggle against the German army is inexorably infused with nationalism. Although the Soviet Union no longer exists, it's a reminder to many Russians of the power and prestige they once felt as a great nation and superpower.

Not everyone from the former Soviet Union shares this feeling of nostalgia, however. In the Ukraine the end of the Second World War raises mixed reactions which run approximately along the same political lines that have recently split the country in two, between the Moscow-oriented east and the EU-oriented west. Some even are of the view that at the very beginning of the German attack on the Soviet Union in 1941, the Germans were liberators of sorts; soon afterward, they became brutal occupiers. No tears were shed, therefore, when Germany was defeated in 1945; at the same time, there was disappointment that Stalin was allowed by the west to reassert his control over the area.

For the Baltic states of Lithuania, Latvia, and Estonia, all three of whom were independent for a brief period before the war, reaction to the anniversary is also mixed -- much more so than in the Ukraine. Many within the Baltic states feel they were let down by the west after the war, and it's this sense of disillusionment which taints the May 9th anniversary with a certain sense of ambiguity.

It's this same sense of ambiguity which can be found throughout Central and Eastern Europe, foremost because for many the end of the war simply replaced one evil with one another. In the Czech Republic this ambiguity is least felt, for the country (then Czechoslovakia) was dismembered and occupied by Germany before the war officially began. Oddly enough, Slovakia itself is an enigma: the Slovak protectorate (as it was called then) had collaborated with the Germans and was rabidly anti-semitic; after the war, however, it was still able to take the position of victim (as a province of a reunited Czechoslovakia) and subsequently participated in the ethnic cleansing campaigns against the German and Hungarian minorities. Some view this twin legacy as one of the factors which eventually led to the breakup of Czechoslovakia in 1992.

The end of the war isn't seen in many countries of Central and Eastern Europe as "liberation"

Elsewhere, such as in Romania, the end of the Second World War presents itself with few unique ambiguities of its own. Although the country also took part in the attack on the Soviet Union, the end of the war symbolises the end of a period prior to the conflict when the country was coerced into giving up parts of Transylvania to Hungary. Although the territories were recouped after the war, the loss of Moldovia and the introduction of communism still has a dampening effect on the anniversary, leaving not much in terms of celebration.

In Bulgaria, the end of the Second World War is likewise frugally celebrated. This is because while in western Europe the end of the war is synonymous with that of liberation, in many parts of Central and Eastern Europe the notion of "liberation" by the Red Army is a moot point at best, and casts a shadow over the anniversary. Yet in places where the Red Army didn't penetrate, such as Yugoslavia, the end of the Second World War is as important of an anniversary as in Russia.

Poland is perhaps the one country in the region where the irony over the anniversary is most apparent. There are various celebrations commemorating the end of the war, which also pays tribute to the liberation of the country from occupation. At the same time, the Poles are quite aware that the Soviet Union had also attacked Poland in September 1939, and that it was Soviet forces responsible for the Katyn massacre. These and other reminders of the ignominious role of the Red Army in Poland tend to make Poles more critical of the Soviets as liberators. Emphasis, therefore, is put on the end of the war as opposed to the notion of "liberation".

Another country where the notion of Soviet "liberation" is questioned is Hungary, so much so that it even became a minor political issue recently. This is because Hungary was an ally of Germany for most of the war. When military fortunes began to change and the Hungarians attempted to switch sides in 1944, the regime was overthrown and the country was occupied by the Germans, with a puppet fascist government put in its place. As a result, when the Soviets entered Hungary shortly after, resistance was stiff and Budapest became one of the most destroyed cities of the war. This, coupled with the subsequent introduction of communism and the deportation of hundreds of thousands to gulags in the Soviet Union, has led to a more critical view among Hungarians toward the anniversary and the notion of Soviet "liberation". Hence, the anniversary usually passes off quietly; indeed, the 60th anniversary looks to be just as low-key when compared to other countries.

For all the countries of Central and Eastern Europe, there is no doubt that the end of the war itself was a relief and something to be celebrated. However, the new world order which it ushered in, coupled with the concept of "liberation", wasn't everywhere a time of celebration; indeed, in places it was exactly the opposite, and in some cases exacerbated tensions among the peoples of Central and Eastern Europe even further. Unfortunately, the failure of the victorious powers to grasp these and other subtle nuances as to what the end of the war really meant for some people, along with the fact that the armies which flushed out the Germans weren't regarded everywhere as "liberators", makes the wounds of war that much harder to heal -- even after 60 years.