When spring turned to winter

The Prague Spring 40 years on

Yesterday marked the 40th anniversary of when the Prague Spring was ruthlessly put down by Soviet-backed troops. Countries within the former East Bloc which were involved in the crackdown commemorated the event in one way or another. The government of Hungary, for example, apologized for the role it played on August 21, 1968.

With the exception of the Czech Republic and other Central and Eastern European countries, there was little mention of this anniversary. Even in these countries the Prague Spring appears to be an event exclusive to a graying generation. And yet, the fears that had spurred the Russians into action are not that dissimilar to the political machinations of the present. Indeed, the lessons of what happened then to Czechoslovakia are comparable in many ways to the present conflict in Georgia and elsewhere.

If ever there was an anxious balancing of the pros and cons of a major political-military move, it must have taken place in 1968 when the Kremlin was struggling toward a decision on whether to invade Czechoslovakia. Without a doubt Soviet leaders put a much higher evaluation than did the West on the significance and the probable long-range effects of the reform movement in Czechoslovakia. Not surprisingly, they considered it a threat to their own power position both at home and abroad.

There were strong historical reasons for such a conclusion. This history plays -- and always will play -- a considerable role in the formulation of Russian foreign policy. This can be seen repeatedly in the pathological fear of encirclement and an exaggerated sensitivity whenever Russia believes that there is an incipient move toward the erection of a "cordon sanitaire". Along these lines, Russia's response to Georgia's attack in South Ossetia earlier this month made perfect sense. The question is to what extent western powers had deliberately provoked such a response.

Forty years ago in Central and Eastern Europe, it had become clear that although such a response wasn't deliberately provoked, it was nonetheless inevitable. The Czechs and Slovaks exhibited a capacity for ideological leadership quite out of proportion to their material strength. There were always too few Czechs and Slovaks -- situated in just about the most awkward geographical position in Europe -- to make a lasting impact, but something of their political idealism always influenced European developments.

Persuasion in place of coercion

Naturally, the Marxist reform movement of the late 1960s was not a Czechoslovak invention. What had been called "humanized Marxism" had been propounded since Stalin's death, and made a modicum of theoretical discussion possible within many Communist parties throughout the region. But in Czechoslovakia, for the first time humanized Marxism from being a suppressed or, at best a tolerated intellectual deviation, became the official and practical policy of a ruling Communist Party.

Ideologically, this meant an advance beyond Leninism, the admission that its body of dogmas, the "revealed religion" as it were, was neither complete nor unchangeable. Yet this didn't mean an end to the dictatorship. According to the new policy, the Communist Party would still remain the leading political force in the land and Marxism the state religion, and this would still restrict the area within which any opposition would be able to maneuver. But there would be persuasion in place of coercion. Minority opinion would be heard, at least in theory. This was a clear break from the past where such opinion was often regarded as simply enemy propaganda and had to be ruthlessly suppressed.

In essence, what the Prague Spring attempted to do was to have Marxism sold to the people and not imposed by brute force. The Czechoslovak reformers believed that this was possible if it was done in a way acceptable to intelligent people. They were equally sure that Marxism, which in Czechoslovakia had a long tradition, would die unless it was propounded this way.

Wave of repression

The Soviet leaders obviously came to the conclusion that they could not permit the Czechs and the Slovaks to make theoretical changes in Marxism and Leninism, or to live under any other form of dictatorial government. The risks involved clearly seemed too great. They could have been under no illusion as far as the attractiveness of the Czechoslovak experiment was concerned. It appeared to offer the kind of organization of society which the majority of the peoples of Central and Eastern Europe wished for, and which has been more and more insistently demanded in the Soviet Union itself.

The wave of repression which swept through the Soviet Union during the late 1960s showed how concerned Soviet leaders were about the stirrings within their own society. Likewise, other countries within the region took similar measures to crackdown on the notion of humanized Marxism. For instance Wladyslaw Gomulka, who started 12 years ago as a reformer of sorts, increasingly tightened the screws in Poland. In East Germany, Walter Ulbricht persisted in running the mustiest kind of Stalinist satrapy within the region.

Yet not all countries within the former East Bloc followed along the same lines. Janos Kadar in Hungary, who had recently consolidated his grip on power a little more than a decade after the Hungarian Revolution of 1956, had already started his country on the road to "liberalization". This would ultimately culminate in what was often termed "goulash communism", with Hungary regarded on both sides of the Iron Curtain as "the happiest barracks in the Soviet camp."

Even so, Kadar was also a pragmatist and the events of 1968 led him to tighten the screws as well, albeit not to the extent as was being done elsewhere within the region. Although he realized that the Prague Spring was only cautiously and strictly for home consumption, it could nevertheless still become a great motivating force to inspire people in the area. Thus, the fear that 1968 might unravel and become another 1956 was a very real threat.

Czechoslovakia and Georgia

Aside from local considerations, there were also broader objectives as well to the crackdown against Czechoslovakia which ensued on August 21, 1968. These are also akin to what presently drives Russia in places such as Georgia. Apart from the obvious threats to what it deems as its national security, intervention offered the best opportunity for gaining a significant temporary advantage in its global power struggle with the United States. Deeply affected at home and abroad by the political consequences of war -- then it was the Vietnam War, now it's the Iraq War and failures in Afghanistan -- the United States appeared less able and willing to assert itself in the world. For Moscow, it seemed like the proper moment as they could count on a feebler response to their violent intervention. This line of reasoning was not only true of Czechoslovakia in the past, but of Georgia in the present.

It is here where the similarities between the past and the present end. The invasion of Czechoslovakia in August 1968 finished an experiment which sought to reform the communist movement from within. The brutal suppression of the Prague Spring turned back the clock for some countries within Central and Eastern Europe; for others, it merely put a check in their stride. Nonetheless, as with the Hungary in 1956 and with Poland to come in 1980, Czechoslovakia in 1968 weakened the image of communism abroad. For many, communism in Central and Eastern Europe was no longer a political idea, but a front for the brute power of Russian imperialism.

While communism in Central and Eastern Europe has been since relegated to the dustbin of history, the fears which had prompted the Russians to action are still very much active in the policies and politics of the Kremlin today. This is not only true of what happened recently in Georgia, but is also an important aspect in why Russia feels threatened by the American missile defense shield in Central and Eastern Europe. Conversely, the same is also true for some of the countries of Central and Eastern Europe, most notably Poland, which fear a resurgent Russia. Whether such fears are actually justified is another question altogether.

Still, the experience of what happened in the not too distant past is fresh in the minds of many and can't be so easily forgotten. Within the Czech Republic, some two-thirds of the population haven't forgiven or forgotten what the Soviet Union and its allies had done. Indeed, a little over 40% of Czechs still consider Russia as some sort of threat.

These wounds from the past not only haven't healed, they are a primary force which ultimately determines the direction in which the region moves and develops. Hence, only by revisiting and fully understanding what had tilted the scales on the side of aggression during past events such as the Prague Spring can we gain a full understanding into what lies behind the conflicts and policies of the present.