Slovakia: culture, change and tradition

Contemporary Review, May, 1995 by Piers Benn

However, there is probably more that the West can do now for former East bloc academia than during the communist years. In Poland and the new fangled Czech and Slovak Republics there is continuing enthusiasm for academic and cultural contacts with us. It is for this reason that, since 1990, I have run annual informal conferences in philosophy in Lublin (Poland), in Prague, and most recently in Bratislava (the Slovak capital). About eight English speaking students travel to one or another of these countries and meet to talk philosophy with a similar number of Czechs, Slovaks or Poles.

There are important differences between the three countries, in their social attitudes and conception of the intellectual life. There can be little doubt that in terms of glamour and publicity, the Czech Republic has had the best fortune of the three countries. But there is every reason for visiting its poor relation, the Slovak Republic, if only because it is less well known. In spite of its reputation for being boring and ugly. Bratislava provides much of interest for the academic tourist. As a far less trendy destination than Prague, it is more conservative, more Catholic and paradoxically - less altered by the revolution than the more prosperous capitals elsewhere. At Comenius University there is a striking contrast to be found between the intense serious-mindedness of the students, and the gaps in their knowledge of major philosophical texts. The pre-1989 earnestness and hunger for ideas remain intact; one of the most pressing needs is to bring them au courant with the state of the art in the central academic disciplines.

It is hard to know how long this seriousness will last, and whether it will soon be subordinated by the consumer society. But there is a sincere, warm hospitality and a fusion of moral innocence and intellectual maturity which makes it hard to determine whether western students should be thought more, or less, sophisticated by comparison. Slovak students usually live at home and are drawn from the immediate locality. Their communal university life is therefore limited, and in Slovakia at least, their attitudes to such things as religion and sex are quite conservative - more so than one would find in the Czech Republic or even in Poland, for all the Poles' reputation for fervent Catholicism. In abstract discussion they range here and there, sometimes excited, often frustrated by their lack of access to the major currents of thought and by the difficulty of expressing themselves in English - always, however, passionately serious.

There is much that an encounter with Slovak academics and students can tell us about the prevailing currents of opinion in Slovakia, and a benefit of such visits is that they provide British visitors with a chance to inspect the barometer of change. In these turbulent times, attitudes are not uniform. One perceives, simmering below the friendly and tolerant surface, radical differences of judgement on a whole range of historico-political questions. A bone of contention always near the surface is the 'velvet divorce' with the new Czech Republic. Another is found in attitudes towards the moral and spiritual character of the new Slovak Republic, shown especially in the differences between the nationalist politician and ex-communist, Mr. Meciar, and the 'moderate' nationalist Catholic conservative, Jan Carnogursky, the former prime minister and leader of the Christian Democratic Movement (KDH).

Our Slovak hosts spoke about the 'divorce' in a tone of mild bitterness and scepticism. This was not as much because they wanted to retain the old Czechoslovak state, as because they saw cynical and smart operators behind the plausible facades of the Czech leaders. Even Havel, hero of the revolution and, in the West, revered philosopher-king, is seen as ready to exploit and swindle the Slovaks: why, they ask, did he pick on Slovak industry, especially arms manufacturing, for closure? Furthermore, they say that by pretending to oppose the separation of the two states (whilst really being eager to profit from it), the Czech government managed to palm the blame for it onto the Slovaks. In the meantime, the Czech economy continues to prosper, whilst the Slovak one sinks into decline.

But attitudes to 'traditional' values do more to divide opinion among those I met. The phrase, in a sense, has two meanings: it describes the flavour of the old, communist outlook, and it also refers to the brand of religious nationalism embodied in the Christian Democratic Movement. As to the first, it is not too hard to find 'nostalgic' characters, who, whilst taking care to denounce the 'excesses' of the ancien regime, find much to complain about in present day living conditions. The decline in the standard of living for many people, the worsening position of women, and the cost of living are all causes of anguish. One such individual - a lecturer at Comenius University - opines that life before the 1990s was not as bad as people like to make out: under communism, she affirms, there was 'no official censorship' and less poverty. Moreover, she continues, men like Carnogursky are not to be trusted - adding dark remarks about his father's supposed complicity with the Nazis.