‘Hope is a state of mind, not of the world. Hope, in this deep and powerful sense, is not the same as joy that things are going well, or willingness to invest in enterprises that are obviously heading for success, but rather an ability to work for something because it is good.’

- Vaclav Havel

Născută în tumultuosul şi sângerosul decembrie ’90, democraţia românească are mereu puseuri de violenţă, iar politicieni făcuţi la grămadă sar mânioşi la sfadă, în deficit de ideologie şi elocvenţă, răstesc fraze încrâncenat-scrâşnite, îşi ocărăsc ori înjură adversarii, se zborşesc unii la alţii, ca şi cum asta ar ţine locul discursului elevat, al programelor chibzuite, inspirate de binele comun, de agenda publică. Cu toată reuşita admiterii în UE, comportamentul violent şi limbajul vitriolant se agravează, a devenit deja brand naţional, tinerii recent intraţi în sistem îl însuşesc cu mare plăcere, iar accesele de furie, nu doar verbală, tind să întunece cu totul înţelepciunea şi luciditatea absolut necesare unei construcţii de durată.

Scenariul reactiv al mâniei, aflat la cote inimaginabile în vreme de pace, rămâne principala abordare mediatică în relaţiile cu alegătorii, fiindcă aduce rating televiziunilor şi tiraje jurnalelor, iar la urne şi în sondaje, cât mai multe voturi. Reprezentaţia a coborât atât de mult, încât nu există om serios să nu-şi exprime dezgustul, lehametea, dezaprobarea. Cultura politică scăzută, de însuşirea căreia nu vrea nimeni să se ocupe, nu permite majorităţii cetăţenilor cu drept de vot să aleagă în funcţie de importanţa argumentelor, a propunerilor programatice, sau de seriozitatea candidaţilor, de sinceritatea şi nobleţea gestului lor de a se pune în slujba ţării şi a plătitorului de bir.

În mod normal, politicienii ar trebui să-şi câştige raţia de imagine, notorietatea grozav de râvnite nu prin populism de cartier, ci prin activităţile de punere în operă a proiectelor în consens cu majoritatea. Munca în circumscripţii, lângă oamenii pe care trebuie să-i reprezinte, le-ar permite o bună comunicare cu baza partidului. La noi lucrul acesta este doar declarativ, fişa postului e o simplă hârţoagă, iar aleşii arareori mai ajung să stea de vorbă cu cei de jos, şi atunci în scârbă. L-aţi văzut pe Vaclav Havel dându-se la vârstnice expansive şi pupând poporeni pentru a creşte în sondaje şi a-şi dovedi inamicii politici? Greţoasele băi de mulţime au rămas singura activitate de acest tip, însă e practicată cu poftă numai de primii oameni în stat. Fără a reuşi să-şi ţină promisiunile, ceilalţi se simt încolţiţi, jigniţi în amorul propriu alături de vulg, de prostime, ca urmare, aleg ecranele patriei, jurnalele de informaţii, talk-show-urile, conferinţele de presă pentru a crea ştiri în prime time, sau pe pagina de titluri a jurnalelor. La rândul lor, mediile cartelizate întreţin, stimulează şi chiar creează evenimente de presă, exacerbează conflictele, dând frâu liber limbajului bolovănos până la invectivă şi sudalmă. Zilnic te loveşti de jigniri dintre cele mai grave ca imbecilitate, fanatism, minciună, lichelism, trădare, sperjur, alături de imundele jigodii, javre şi alte zoograme „sugestive”.

De aceea, principala activitate a politicaştrilor, adesea sarcină de partid, este să reacţioneze cât mai golăneşte la afirmaţiile adverse care pun în pericol propriul statut, ori ameninţă o stare de fapt convenabilă, dar întotdeauna constituie o replică la o diatribă anterioară. Fiecare formaţiune sau înalt lider are în stafful de campanie un anumit soi de hammermänner, de berbeci mediatici, gata în orice clipă să lovească vrăjmaşul, duşmanul de moarte, în moalele capului. Nu e zi să nu facă spume la gură. Gâlceava se inflamează treptat, din replică în replică, din reacţie în reacţie, sondajele pârâie din toate încheieturile, până ce subiectul exploziv îşi epuizează mesajul, stingându-se de la sine. Pe lângă adevăruri dureroase se strecoară şi furtuni într-un pahar cu apă. Alteori dispare prin lansarea altui scandal, ca în adagio-ul beţivan „cui pe cui se scoate”.

Însă escaladarea încontrărilor înverşunate, spirala neruşinată a războiului pârâş întrec orice limită a bunului simţ, fie şi dâmboviţean. Practic nu a rămas instituţie publică în afara confruntării, iar puterile statului îşi epuizează resursele în demonstraţii puerile de forţă, încercând să impună prin tertipuri ieftine o rezolvare pro domo. Sunt neglijate sectoare importante, se cheltuie fonduri, energii uriaşe, se distrug cariere construite cu greu, scade orice brumă de încredere în autoritatea publică în timp ce controversele ar putea fi aplanate simplu, prin aşezarea la masa negocierilor, dar cu cărţile pe faţă. Cauzele unor asemenea turniruri pline de obidă – presa abundă de generalizări excesive – rezidă în slaba calitate a actului politic, iar cei 20 ani de republică par a fi trecut degeaba. O explicaţie pentru acest fenomen ar fi că aderarea la UE nu a fost urmată de învăţarea comportamentului specific occidental, decât în cazul operatorilor economici, nevoiţi să respecte cu rigurozitate acquisul comunitar. Politicienii nu vor nicidecum să se lepede de pufoaica jegoasă a acuzaţiilor lumpenproletare. Ţin cu orice preţ să şi-o zică. De la primul om în stat până la slugarnicul activist de partid. Zi şi noapte. Dacă noi toţi trebuie să respectăm condiţii şi reguli, inclusiv ciobanii din vârful munţilor, politicienilor li se permite să fie inapţi, inculţi, insolenţi, să nu ştie cu ce se mănâncă ştiinţele politice, să lipsească de la serviciu, să greşească fără nicio consecinţă, să-şi bată joc de cine vor muşchii lor, inclusiv de ţară şi de neamul mult prea răbduriu de unde-şi trag foloasele.

Dar toate trebuie să aibă o limită. Reacţia vulgului ar putea să le fie fatală de astă dată. Până la urmă tot vor vor avea nevoie să înveţe mai întâi arta conducerii, să-şi probeze bunele intenţii, patriotismul şi apoi să aspire la jilţuri. Într-o societate democratică, politica devine o profesie, o ştiinţă în care n-au ce căuta amatorii, aventurierii, pescuitorii în ape tulburi, lihniţii după avere şi mărire pe capul contribuabililor, nici taraţii, nici corupţii…

Petru Tomegea

“De camera houdt van Havel, die in wat voor omstandigheden ook nooit antipathie zal opwekken,” is één van de terechte mededelingen over de voormalige, tevens laatste president van Tsjecho-Slowakije, die meteen de eerste president van Tsjechië werd: Vaclav Havel (*1936). Het is een zin uit een van de Terzijdes in de VPRO-Gids voor deze week, waarin dagelijks enkele programma-onderdelen summier nader worden belicht

Of Vaclav Havel zelf ook veel van de camera gehouden heeft, zal wellicht in het gefilmde portret blijken. Dat zal worden uitgezonden in de serie VPRO-Import. Het is een ruim twee uur durende film geworden, die net voor middernacht, om 23:55 uur, begint, en tot 02:05 uur in de nacht op donderdag 19 november duurt.

Jarenlang heeft een camerateam deze man gevolgd in al zijn doen en laten. Commentaar wordt er niet gegeven, dat betekent dus dat in directe bewoordingen ons niet zal worden medegedeeld wat de man uiteindelijk vond van het feit dat men hem met meerdere mensen zo lang heel dicht op de huid heeft gezeten. Hij heeft daarvoor echter toestemming gegeven als direct gevolg van het besef dat zijn bestaan in geen enkel opzicht alledaags is geweest. Presidentiële ijdelheid of een uiting van zelfverheerlijking van de veelzijdige man, die naast zijn schrijverschap en zijn periode als dissident zelf in staat werd gesteld om een betere politiek direct gestalte te geven.

In de loop van de week zal de documentaire tevens worden uitgezonden door het digitale themakanaal Holland Doc 24. Voor de exacte tijding van uitzending kunt u de programmagegevens op de website van het kanaal in kwestie raadplegen.

http://kl.am/4UvC

Hoffnung ist nicht die Überzeugung, dass etwas gut ausgeht, sondern die Gewissheit, dass etwas einen Sinn hat, egal wie es ausgeht.”

Vaclav Havel

dieses zitat stand über der traueranzeige von Robert Enke, der sich am letzten dienstag nahe Hannover das leben genommen hat.

noch immer belagert mich eine gewisse nachdenklichkeit. eine nachdenklichkeit, die nicht einfach zur vielzitierten tagesordnung übergehen lässt.

die “trauerfeier”, die gestern im Niedersachsenstadion von Hannover 96 mit tausenden fans und gewichtigen menschen aus politik, sport, gesellschaft und wirtschaft abgehalten wurde, befremdete und zugleich bewegte sie auch.
mensch kann über Theo Zwanziger, amtierender präsident des DFB, denken was sie/er will, seine rede aber, die traf mehr als nur den simplen betroffenheits-ton.
sie stimmte traurig und nachdenklich.

wenn nun forderungen aufkommen, dass sich nun auch endlich die einstellung zu homosexualität im spitzenfussball ändern soll, fühlt mensch sich im obigen zitat vielleicht doch etwas bestätigt.

auch wenn der anlass ein beileibe schrecklicher ist.

picture: “Das Fenster bei Nacht” by thopex under creative commons

A 17 de Novembro de 1989, deu-se o ínício da «revolução de veludo» com uma manifestação estudiantil nas ruas de Praga. Seis semanas mais tarde, Vaclav Havel (na foto), ex-dissidente e prisioneiro do regime estalinista, fez um discurso naif e marcado por um grande idealismo.

Vinte anos mais tarde, foi publicada esta sondagem feita pela agência Médian: 88% da população checa está insatisfeita com a situação política actual e  afirma que a nova élite do país só se preocupa com os seus interesses, mantendo-se indiferente quanto aos problemas de quem «está em baixo».

The Czechs aren’t very good at brand development in any context and the development of their national brand is no exception.  Its probably on a par with the efforts of the UK, which in my opinion are pitiful.

An important trick in the national branding arsenal is to big-up national events that support the character of the brand.  The Czechs kinda manage to raise a pulse or two when it comes to their national ice hockey team (who apparently are a bit good) and conjur up a little enthusiasm for their national football (soccer for you Americans out there) team, when they reach the finals of the World Cup, which isn’t the case this time around (he, he!).  However, they haven’t missed the opportunity to milk the lump-in-the-throat, emotional potential of the velvet revolution.  What Czech wouldn’t swell with pride at the memory of their David to the Russian Goliath (well maybe a few old Commies!) which, being twenty years ago this week provided a timely fillip to their national brand development campaign.

Their take on a celebratory TV spectacular was a characteristically high-brow celebration for Vaclav Havel (The figurehead of the revolution and the first post-Communist President) with live (well, I think there was a pulse in most cases) performances by a load of American esoteric like Suzanne Vega, Joan Baez and Lou Reed who, apart from being old muckers of Havel were, I guess, bang on the spirit of a nation whose escape from tyranny was led by a playwright.  British support came in the shape of a series of arms-length video messages from the likes of Mick Jagger, Peter Gabriel and … surprise, surprise … Bono – always good for a sound-bite in the cause of liberty, but still can’t pronounce his old mate Vaclav’s name correctly!  The event was probably sufficiently high-brow to pass well over the heads of the majority of those Czechs who would otherwise have been waving football scarves and definitely inaccessible to the average ice hockey supporter, but I hope that’s not all the celebrations this nation can muster.  Well, let’s see.  Meanwhile, maybe what we need to get brand development going in Blighty is a revolution?  Don’t be too quick to discount that idea!

Long Live the Velvet Revolution

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20091114/ap_en_mu/eu_czech_velvet_revolution

Při příležitosti toužebně očekávaného dvacátého výročí tzv. „sametové revoluce“, či sametového podvodu, je potřeba vedle veselého juchání, vyvěšování vlajek EU a sledování nepřetržitého, živého vysílání nejobjektivnější zpravodajské televize u nás také trošku osvěžit roztroušenou sklerózou postiženou paměť národa.

A proč tak neučinit vesele? Pro pobavení si přečtěte „slavný“ projev ambiciózního „revolucionáře“ Havla. Po dvaceti letech zní pořád moc pěkně. Některé pasáže (ty nejzábavnější) jsou zvýrazněny. Možná by stálo za to, aby se ke svým slovům nyní vrátil a zpestřil jimi oslavy dvaceti let trvající úžasné svobody.

Sedmilháři Havlovi tenkrát huba jela, a jestli mu to napsal zkouřenej Kocáb, ještě zkouřenější Hutka nebo dokonce spisovatel sám nehraje roli. „Nezaměstnanost je chiméra a výmysl“, projevil tenkrát Havel své znalosti tržní ekonomiky. „Již nikdy nevstoupíme do žádného paktu“. Ani ne 9 let poté hrdě stojíme „na druhé straně“. A ještě za Havlova presidentování, čímž mimochodem porušil, co naivnímu národu předtím slíbil: „Slibuji, že funkci presidenta vezmu jen na jedno volební období“. Bum! A na Hradě se jezdilo na koloběžkách až do roku 2003.

Tak blábolil Váša Šáša v televizi tehdá v prosinci roku 1989. Pravdoláskomil, opilec, brebta, humanistický pozér, pytel moudra, neúnavný propagátor institutu “lidských práv”, smilník a posléze i paroháč, neúspěšný a netalentovaný dramatik, spolupracovník zahraničních tajných služeb, kámoš STBáků, restituent, syn židovského podnikatele a nacistického konfidenta, neomarxista, politický prominent, válečný štváč, laureát Nobelovy ceny za mír, několikanásobný vlastizrádce a v neposlední řadě president Československa a České republiky.

Také vám slibuji na svou čest, pokud se za mého volebního období nezlepší životní úroveň, sám odstoupím z funkce. Pro mě není rozhodující, s jakým slovem jsou sociální jistoty spojovaný, ale to, jaké jsou. Já si představuji, že by měly byt daleko větší, než jaké poskytovalo to, co mnozí nazývají socialismus.

Za svůj třetí úkol považuj i podporu toho, co vede k lepšímu postavení dětí, starých lidí, žen, těžce pracujících, příslušníků národních menšin a vůbec všech občanů, kteří jsou na tom z jakýchkoli důvodů hůře než ostatní. Žádné potraviny či nemocnice nesmí být výsadou mocných, ale nabízeny těm, kteří je nejvíc potřebují.

Připravujeme koncept důkladné ekonomické reformy, která nepřinese sociální otřesy, nezaměstnanost, inflaci a jiné problémy, jak se někteří z vás obávají. Všichni chceme republiku, která bude starostlivě pečovat o to, aby zmizely všechny ponižující přehrady mezi různými společenskými vrstvami, republiku, v níž se nebudeme dělit na otroky a pány.

Toužím po takové republice víc než kdo jiný. Náš stát by už nikdy neměl být přívažkem či chudým příbuzným kohokoli jiného. Jsou lidé, kteří kalí vodu a panikaří, že se bude zdražovat. Budou Vás strašit nezaměstnaností, ale nevěřte jim.

Dávejte si na ně pozor! Ptáte se s údivem, jestli bude inflace, jestli bude zdražování? Mnohokráte a jasné tato vláda řekla ve svém programovém prohlášení, včetně dalších dokumentů a ministři na svých tiskových konferencích, že jejich úsilím je, aby přechod od neekonomiky k ekonomice byl pokojný, bez sociálních aspektů, bez návaznosti nezaměstnanosti, bez jakýchkoli sociálních krizí a podobně. Žádné gigantické zdražovaní nebo dokonce nezaměstnanost, jak to panikáři systematicky šíří, nic takového nepřipravujeme.

Již nikdy do žádného paktu nepůjdeme. Podle mého mínění nesmí náš stát šetřit na investicích do školství a kultury. Také náš mnohokrát deklarovaný úmysl provést reformu tak, aby nevedla k velkým otřesům, velké inflaci, nebo dokonce ke ztrátám základních sociálních jistot, musí naši ekonomové přijmout prosté jako úkol, který jim byl zadán. Zde neplatí žádné: NEJDE TO.

With the panels now over, it’s up to Madam Secretary to hold the floor with the students; so, some highlights from this morning:

Jacques Rupnik spoke first on the obvious enemies of Freedom such as homogeneity, nationalism, and collectivity. Today it is the less obvious enemy of the Elite; there is an unprecedented level of what Isaiah Berlin calls ‘Negative Freedom’, the lack of intrusion as opposed to the expected enemy of intrusion. He also mentioned that the legacies of Dissent are lost, yet important to Freedom and a Civil society, that only a hollow, Democratic shell of society remains.

Adam Michnik was next. This man is an amazing personality. A wonderful, humorous, breath of fresh air. He also feels as though we have an empty state, a vacuum state. Corruption is a permanent state in the structure which leads to fundamentalism and fundamentalist slogans; and, fundamentalism of any kind is a very bad thing. Monetary fundamentalism is the idea that the market should decide. Also, ‘Putenism’ = a Sovereign Democracy, which = My Democracy. And finally, with a minor trip in translation was that ‘corruption is like prostitution, it will always be there’.

Martin Bútora spoke, “Civic helplessness + Civic indifference = Civil Frigidity .” Also, he’s shocked at the lack of imagination in young people. In addition, the previous phrase ‘Prosim, Odejtete’ should be ‘Prosim, Prijdete’.

Then it was Andrei Piontkovsky’s turn at bat who said that “the best way to help Russia is to help Ukraine”. The points being: 1) Russia is too big for its britches, and 2) By creating hope and self-confidence from within smaller states like Ukraine, we help Russia to change.

Tom Stoppard consistently kicked-ass; Freedom isn’t won or lost in large dramatic events anymore, but it is being lost by a thousand tiny cuts.

Timothy Garton Ash added that corruption is poisonoing the air of Freedom. How to re-establish the rule of law? In 1989 we said that Democracy, Freedom and the Free-Market were the ideas of the day, but that we forgot to add “rule of law” to that trinity. How do we re-incorporate ‘the rule of law’?

A few common threads were ‘corruption’, ‘Putin’s Russia’, and what a joke Vaclav Klaus is. So, nothing we didn’t already know.

Re: Havel, do have any idea how hard it is to stop yourself from shaking while trying to take his picture, standing right next to him and being blocked by his bodyguard? Answer: Very Hard.

I got his signature anyway.

Life is good.

La magia di una città trasfigurata dallo sguardo di un bambino. Un racconto intenso e poetico come raramente capita di leggerne in pagine di autobiografia. Il cuore della Berlino fra fine Ottocento e inizi Novecento è ancora vivo oggi grazie all’Infanzia berlinese (Einaudi) di Walter Benjamin. E a questo straordinario classico, così come alla flânerie a cui il filosofo tedesco si affidò per raccontare la Parigi dei Passages, si è ispirato lo scrittore Eraldo Affinati per il suo Berlin (Rizzoli), viaggio letterario nel passato e nel presente della città e non solo banale pellegrinaggio ai varchi del muro. Cercando nelle molte metamorfosi anche urbanistiche di Berlino ciò che le fonti scritte non raccontano.

Due giornalisti, partiti dalle opposte “sponde” dell’Inghilterra e dell’Italia, invece, si sono dati a raccontare la trasformazione di Berlino Est e i cambiamenti che in vent’anni hanno rimesso in moto i Paesi dell’Europa ex comunista; è diventato anche una fortunata serie tv il viaggio inchiesta del giornalista della Bbc Peter Molloy, edito in Italia da Bruno Mondadori con il titolo La vita ai tempi del comunismo: una serie di interviste che, insieme, affrescano una straordinaria galleria di ritratti di persone per le quali andare oltre cortina ha rappresentato una vera propria cesura nella propria vita, dividendola in un prima e un dopo, nel bene o nel male. Berlino, Lipsia, Varsavia. Ma anche Praga, Bratislava, Budapest. Sono le tappe del reportage che il giornalista Matteo Tacconi ha scritto per Castelvecchi. Nel suo C’era una volta il muro si ritrovano la passione e la voglia di capire di un cronista di razza che nel 1989 aveva solo 11 anni. Niente ideologie e appartenenze di allora a ingombrargli il passo e, nella scrittura rapida, suggestiva, per immagini, di questo libro, le speranze realizzate e quelle naufragate di intellettuali e operai ungheresi costretti a emigrare per lavorare. La Praga di Charta77 e di Vaclav Havel ma anche quella del processo a Milan Kundera. E ancora la Danzica e le istanze di libertà di Solidarnosc, presto deluse.

Riavvolgendo il filo della storia, torna a prima del muro Gianluca Falanga con il libro Non si può dividere il cielo (Carocci) che ricostruisce le vicende di persone che quando il muro (e la guerra fredda) esercitava tutta la sua oppressiva presenza osarono sfidarlo. Testimone diretto dell’89, lo scrittore ungherese György Dalos ricostruisce gli eventi che portarono alla caduta del muro nel libro Giù la cortina (Donzelli) dando voce ai protagonisti di allora, a  uomini politici come Dubcek e Havel ma anche a gente comune. Con pagine inedite sulla fuga in massa dei cittadini della Ddr oltre il confine ungherese. Delle vicende degli intellettuali e degli attivisti politici che nel Novecento hanno fatto di Berlino una fucina di idee e un laboratorio di nuove culture si occupa in modo particolare Gian Enrico Rusconi in Berlino, la reinvenzione della Germania (Laterza), mentre fra i molti nuovi titoli che affrontano il ventennale con strumenti di analisi politica, da segnalare il lavoro di Angelo d’Orsi, 1989,(Ponte alle Grazie). Un libro fuori dal coro delle grandi celebrazioni, che esplora zone d’ombra e promesse rimaste lettera morta. A cominciare dalla speranza di un futuro senza ideologiche contrapposizioni in blocchi e senza guerre. Infine, fresco di stampa, L’anno che cambiò il mondo (Il Saggiatore) di Michael Meyer, che dal 1988 al 1992 diresse la redazione di Newsweek per l’Europa dell’Est. Un documentatissimo libro che sfata l’idea che sia stata la fermezza Usa a dar la spinta decisiva allo smantellamento del muro.

BERLINO EST CAPITALE DELL’ARTE CONTEMPORANEA
Nel 1989 probabilmente nessuno ci avrebbe creduto che dai grigi e seriali palazzi dell’Est sarebbero sbocciati i più innovativi laboratori d’arte e di tendenza degli anni Duemila. E che le fabbriche dismesse sarebbero presto diventate cantieri giovanili dove si mettono in scena opere totali che mescolano i linguaggi delle arti visive e quelli della danza, del teatro, della musica e della videoarte.  Anticipando la tendenza al recupero di suggestivi spazi di archeologia industriale che negli anni 90, in Europa, ha permesso finalmente di rottamare gli spazi museali algidi e minimalisti di un decennio prima. Ma tant’è, a vent’anni dalla caduta del muro – complice un mercato immobiliare più abbordabile – possiamo ben  dire che la parte Est non è diventata soltanto quella più bella della città ma anche la più creativamente viva d’Europa. Da qualche anno, infatti, artisti da tutto il mondo fanno tappa a Berlino (e non più a Londra e Parigi) o decidono di viverci. La street art, i graffiti, i murales che tappezzano l’Est ne sono l’effetto più macroscopico, a cominciare dall’esplosione di colori della famosa Est side gallery all’aperto. Nel frattempo tutta la rete delle gallerie si è molto allargata verso Est. Tanto che dalle circa 250 gallerie che si contavano 15 anni fa oggi si è passati a più di 500. Frutto d’iniziativa privata ma anche merito delle intelligenti politiche culturali tedesche, locali e non, che investono molto su mostre, biennali, premi e offrono  agevolazioni agli artisti.        s.m.

Seduta solenne del Parlamento europeo. Václav Havel, 73 anni, ha emozionato l’aula con un discorso di oltre mezz’ora. L’ex-presidente ceco, ex-dissidente, scrittore e drammaturgo è stato accolto dal presidente Buzek come “un uomo meraviglioso, un amico per tutti coloro che lottano per la libertà e i diritti umani, uno di quelli che, 20 anni fa, hanno generato l’effetto domino” provocando la caduta dei regimi nell’Europa dell’est. Caduta festeggiata oggi con un ospite d’onore, che ha emozionato l’Aula con un discorso forte e attuale. Il presidente del Parlamento Jerzy Buzek ha presentato Václav Havel come “un eroe per tutte le persone normali che hanno lottato contro il comunismo nell’Europa dell’est e per tutti coloro che, nell’Europa dell’ovest, le hanno aiutate, rendendo possibile la riunificazione”. “L’ex-dissidente cecoslovacco”, ha continuato Buzek, anche lui un avversario del regime nel suo paese, la Polonia, è “una guida spirituale e ha creato un senso di unità fra tutti coloro che si opponevano al comunismo nei diversi Paesi del blocco”.  Prima dell’intervento di Havel, un breve filmato ha ricordato gli eventi del 1989 e ha reso omaggio alla protesta pacifica che ha fatto cadere uno a uno i regimi dell’Europa dell’est.

From Vaclav Havel’s Forum 2000 web site, there will be a round-table discussion and debate with students this Saturday morning and afternoon the 14th of November, 2009.

The program is scheduled to be as follows:

10:00 – 11:15 – Part I of the roundtable (Faculty of Philosophy) – in Czech

Freedom and Its Adversaries: Perspectives of Human Experience

Opening remarks:

Jan Sokol, Dean of the Faculty of Humanities CU Prague, Czech Republic

Participants:

Václav Havel, Former President, Czech Republic

André Glucksmann, Philosopher, France

Petr Pithart, Vice President of the Senate, Czech Republic

Jan Urban, Journalist, Czech Republic

Moderator:

M.C. Putna, Director of the Václav Havel Library, Czech Republic

11:15 – 11:30   Coffee Break

11:30 – 12:45 Part II of the roundtable (Faculty of Philosophy) – in English

Freedom and Its Adversaries: Perspectives of Central Europe

Opening remarks:

Madeleine Albright, Former Secretary of State, USA

Participants:

Jacques Rupnik, Historian, Director of CERI, France

Adam Michnik, Former Dissident, Editor-in-Chief, Gazeta Wyborcza, Poland

Martin Bútora, Sociologist, Writer, Diplomat, Slovak Republic

Tom Stoppard, Playwright and Screenwriter, United Kingdom

Moderator:

Timothy Garton Ash, Writer and Columnist, United Kingdom

12:45 – 14:00  Lunch (Kampa Park)

14:00 – 15:15  Debate with the students

Audience:

Students and invited observers (approximately 400 people)

L'ex presidente ceco Vàclav Havel, simbolo di una parte d'Europa la cui riunificazione politica al resto del continente rappresenta l'esito di un lungo processo di autodeterminazione

In occasione della seduta plenaria che ancora oggi si sta svolgendo in Parlamento Europeo, l’ Ex presidente della Repubblica Ceca ha insistito perchè l’Unione Europea non ponga gli interessi quotidiani della politica al di sopra della necessità di libertà dei suoi vicini e dei suoi interlocutori.

 

Vàclav Havel più che un nome ed una persona, per la maggior parte degli europei che ne conoscono la storia, è un simbolo della lunga marcia dei diritti e della libertà nella parte d’Europa (l’Est) che ne era priva. Il presidente del Parlamento Europeo, Jerzy Buzek, ha presentato lo scrittore e drammaturgo, che è stato presidente dal 1993 al 2003 dopo la caduta del regime che aveva  combattuto, come un elemento che ha unificato tutte le persone normali che si erano opposte ai regimi.

Havel ha ricordato come l’esito della transizione dal totalitarismo alla democrazia sia stato qualcosa che non era scontato, perchè i nazionalismi avrebbero potuto prendere il sopravvento. Anche per questo l’Ex presidente ceco ha invitato il Parlamento Europeo a non permettere che l’Unione diventi un soggetto disposto a trattare con la negazione della dignità umana, ma raccolga le esigenze di quanti si sforzano di portare avanti i diritti in Birmania, Iran e Bielorussia ed in molti altri paesi.

“L’Europa è la patria delle nostre patrie - ha dichiarato Vàclav Havel – mi sento europeo senza rinunciare alla mia identità”. Tutto il discorso dell’ex dissidente si è concentrato sulla necessità di andare al di là della politica economica e proseguire nella promozione delle caratteristiche della cultura europea, sia di quelle nate dalle religioni che hanno partecipato alla costruzione del senso comune nel continente che di quelle radicate a partire dall’illuminismo.

Si potrebbe aggiungere che occorre prestare molta attenzione anche al contatto tra economia e ideali, perchè se è vero, come riportava la stampa internazionale ieri, che in Bulgaria metà della popolazione esprime nostalgia per i tempi andati ciò non deve indurre a giustificare regimi brutali e sistemi inefficienti ma portare alla luce la necessità di assicurare anche i diritti sociali e la cooperazione che serve alla coesione anche nei paesi che hanno fatto parte della sfera di influenza sovietica. Il tentativo di superare il passato attraverso eccessi liberisti ha dimostrato i suoi drammatici limiti, emersi con le diverse tensioni anche militari nei Balcani prima ed il preoccupante exploit delle estreme destre nelle ultime elezioni europee.

Però è vero che il modello europeo in quanto tale è un episodio unico di integrazione che può sopravvivere alla celebrazione sterile delle proprie forme istituzionali soltanto se trova nuovi modo per essere fonte di  ispirazione per il resto del mondo, dando risposte ai bisogni di libertà delle aree del pianeta che sono in relazione con noi e qui il politico ceco ha toccato un nervo fondamentale, quando ha detto che è il Parlamento Europeo a poter spronare questo processo, essendo l’unico organo eletto, ed a questo proposito sarebbe auspicabile un maggiore dibattito proprio sulla democratizzazione delle strutture e delle politiche europee e sulla necessità che la gente trovi la direzione per imprimere all’Unione Europea la propria agenda politica.

Aldo Ciummo

Vreau să fiu obiectiv ca un Istoric al Culturii ce mă aflu, mai ales că păşesc pe un teren minat. Minat de subiectivisme în primul rând şi de parti-pris-uri ideologice. Chiar cred în Adevăr, în cel Istoric, în cazul de faţă.

Vineri se va lansa un foarte intersesant volum la Fundaţia Titulescu, despre Primăvara de la Praga. Voi încerca, Inshallah, să fiu prezent la intersantul eveniment cultural şi uman.
O întrebare firească s-a născut în mintea mea, citind anunţul cu privire la lansarea volumului pe blogul Domnului Adrian Năstase. I-am adresat-o domniei sale şi mi-a răspuns, firesc. Consemnez schimbul de replici şi aici, pentru o mai bună mărturie viitoare. Ştiu, sunt un naiv, dar cred în Istorie şi în Progres.

Mihnea Georgescu spune:
noiembrie 11, 2009 la 8:43 pm

Circulă o poveste pe bloguri… E adevărat că, într-un moment de supărare pe cehi, care nu doreau să ne primească în UE, le-aţi fi transmis pe canale oculte ideea că regretaţi că Nicolae Ceauşescu nu i-a invadat în ‘68? Am citit ceva pe bloguri în sensul ăsta, ca despre o scăpare la mânie, pentru că cehii nu se susţineau Interesul Naţional…

nastase spune:
noiembrie 11, 2009 la 11:02 pm

Mihnea Georgescu,

Ceva este adevarat. La o intalnire cu presedintele Havel, i-am spus ca, in mod paradoxal, faptul ca Romania nu a participat la invadarea Cehoslovaciei a intarit pozitia internationala a lui Nicolae Ceausescu, ceea ce i-a permis sa consolideze dictatura interna. Din acest motiv, in timp ce tarile care participasera la operatiunea din 1968 – Polonia, Ungaria, etc -, inclusiv pe un complex de “vinovatie”, s-au liberalizat relativ si au permis, intr-o anumita masura, pregatirea unor tineri in strainatate, avand pregatite in 1989 echipe de conducere alternative, Romania s-a gasit in 1989 nepregatita – din punctul de vedere al cadrelor pregatite pentru o noua ordine europeana.

Nu mă risc să mai comentez şi altceva, deşi aş avea multe de spus, mai ales din punct de vedere psihologic, cu privire la “complexul de vinovăţie”, evocat de Adrian Năstase. Diplomaţia se împleteşte strâns cu psihologia…

Mycket har sagts om järnridåns fall och den förändringens vind som blåste genom Europa 1989, men få kan göra det med sådan auktoritet som tjecken Václav Havel. Havel var en av de ledande dissidenterna och medborgarrättskämparna i den sovjetiska maktsfären, och ledde det fria Tjeckoslovakien och senare Tjeckien som president. Ett Tjeckien som på 20 år, liksom stora delar av övriga Central- och Östeuropa, gått från kommunistiskt förtryck till frihet, demokrati och medlemskap i EU.

Jag representerar rådet idag i Europaparlamentet och kommer under sessionen att besvara frågor på flera olika ämnen, men ibland kan det vara bra att bli påmind om vilken förändring Europa verkligen genomgått. En sådan påminnelse fick vi verkligen i eftermiddags, när Václav Havel i ett fullsatt Europaparlament höll ett kraftfullt tal om järnridåns fall och Europas framtid. Havel har länge visat ett starkt engagemang för det europeiska samarbetet och hans tal idag hade en tydligt federalistisk vinkel.

Much have been said about 1989 and the wind of democracy through Central and Eastern Europe, but few have said it with such authority as Václav Havel did in the European Parliament a few minutes ago. As one of the key persons in this shift to freedom, democracy and human rights, Havel held a powerful speech in a crowded Parliament on the fall of the iron curtain and the future of Europe.

I am representing the Council at the session today in the European Parliament and will soon be answering questions on various topics, but Havel and others at this ceremony on the 20th Anniversary of Democratic Change here in the Parliament have truly reminded us about the greater picture.

    This week marked the 20^th Anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall. It is the anniversary of an event worthy to revisit and rethink.

Of the dominoes that remained standing during the Cold War, the Berlin Wall’s fall, set in motion, the end of communism in Europe. And not slowly. Within days of the first chunks of concrete that sledgehammers shattered, an avalanche of freedom came tumbling down on Soviet satellite states.

On November 16^th 1989, day’s after it the manmade divide between East and West Germany became no more, Czechoslovakian students began to peacefully protest against the Communist Czech government. As each day passed, more citizens began break into spontaneous protests until one day, over half a million citizens stood together in Prague, protesting Communism. Then, on November 27^th all the citizens of Czechoslovakia took part in a 2 hour long general strike. The following day, the Communist government of Czechoslovakia announced that it would relinquish their power to the people and dismantle the existing government apparatus.

Prior to the ethnic conflicts that took place between the Czechs and the Slovaks and eventually consumed the region, the event was a remarkable example of a people yearning for freedom and it was triggered by the fall of one of the greatest symbols of Communist oppression in the world—–the Berlin Wall.

I remember the day it happened. All of my life I had known Germanys. I had heard how people were shot and killed for trying to go from East to West. I was also aware of why few if any people tried to go from West to East. On one side of the Wall you had a thriving society with advanced technology and luxury automobiles, high tech companies, busy entrepreneurs and happy youngsters wearing Nike and Adidas as they bounced basketballs with Michael Jordan’s name imprinted on them. You had a generally happy society hopeful about tomorrow and full of optimism.

On the other side, you had rationing of food and fuel, state owned businesses that produced little and paid little. On the other side of the wall , optimism was nothing more than a concept. The Communist government told its people what they should hope for. Tens of thousands of fortunate East German’s drove the state car, the Trabant. It was a shell that boasted its ability to seat four people. It was mechanically unreliable, lacked any comforts or conveniences and required lots of effort just to pour fuel into. One joke often repeated by East Germans asked how one could try to double the value of a Trabant? To which the answer was “Fill up the tank”. Another asked if you knew that they had Knight Rider in East Germany?………to that the answer was……It’s a Trabant with a pocket calculator! The car became a symbol of Communism’s inability to compete in industry and technology. When the Berlin Wall came down, thousands of East Germans abandoned their Trabants and walked to West Germany, never to retrieve the GDR made autos again.

These were the two Germany’s I knew all my life. So when I saw young German men and woman cheering as they climbed the graffiti covered 3 and a half mile long, abomination to freedom, as they chipped chunks of it away, I was stunned. I never thought I would see the people who Communists hid away from the rest of the world, suddenly celebrate the joy of freedom with unbridled glee. But I did. It was the goal of Ronald Reagan and it was being realized.

Since then, leftists have often demonized Ronald Reagan. They do so with unrelenting force and mock his boldness, bluntness and military build up, which all helped to create the fatal cracks in the Berlin Wall that brought it down. Many have come to take for granted the course which led to our winning the Cold War. For many of us, that nonchalant attitude is disappointing. We also see it as dangerous. In Statecraft. Strategies for a Changing World, one of contemporary history’s great women and even greater leaders, former British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher writes;

“Revisionism about the Cold War has taken various guises. But underlying them all is the assertion that the policies of Ronald Reagan towards the Soviet Union were, as you prefer, superfluous, dangerous or even counter-productive“.

She goes on to describe such revisionist interpretations or uninformed opinions as

“ potentially disastrous, because learning the wrong lessons could still result in adopting the wrong responses”

Her point being that the world was not changed by accepting that which we know is wrong. Even East Germans knew that Communism was wrong. They knew that they were falling behind the rest of world. Some East German’s knew this all too well and they tried to make a break for freedom. Since it was erected in 1961, 136 of such West German thinkers were shot to death as they tried to go from East German oppression to West German freedom.

Lady Thatcher reminds us that timidity in regards to freedom does not allow it to flourish.  She also reminds us that Ronald Reagan knew that.  He never apologized for freedom, he shared its virtues, knowing that those who get a taste of freedom become addicted to it. Just as did the people of Czechoslovakia who in “peaceful” protests jingled keys in symbolic display of their demand to “unlock the doors” of “their” government.

20 years later, although Europe and all the continents still suffer from the human condition, we are for the most part, free. We are free to choose between construction and destruction, free to choose between living in harmony or in war, in richness or poorness, ignorance or intelligence. We are free to make the right or the wrong choices and it is that freedom and the challenges that comes with it that makes life——-the free life——-a thrilling, promising experience. But its promise can only thrive if the sea of oppression is not allowed to douse the flame of freedom. The Berlin Wall doused that flame. But Ronald Reagan fought off its drowning tide, and he did not by ignoring the world’s oppressors, but by confronting them.

For that we are here today. For better or worse, after some decisions correctly made and many others wrongly decided, we are here today to celebrate the possibilities of freedom and the demise of it’s enemy—–oppression.

But twenty years later while we celebrate what we once achieved, the United States and the world must decide what we will achieve in the years to come.

It would seem that in America we have begun to move away from the freedom of independence and independent thought, the type of independence that was granted to half of Germany when its dividing line came down. With this trend, moving forward, we must stop and understand that the freedom which we celebrated on the 20^th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall, is the very same freedom that some of our nation’s leaders are now trying to limit. Such sentiments are expressed in the actions of the House of Representatives. Their recent recommended government takeover of healthcare or the decision to tax the air that we breathe, are legislative walls between freedom and oppression. They are examples of just the opposite of the 20^th anniversary we just praised and celebrated .

And even worse, most Americans don’t even realize it.

The trend is one that was predicted. It is one we were warned about from past leaders and one that current leaders are now warning us about. Some seven years ago Margaret Thatcher addressed the road we are on right now.

She warned;

“Neither the fall of the Berlin Wall, nor victory in the Gulf War, nor the collapse of the Soviet Union, nor the establishment of free markets and a measure of democracy in South-East Asia – none of these has resolved the tension between liberty and socialism in all its numerous guises. Believers in the Western model of strictly limited government and maximum freedom for individuals within a just rule of law often say, and rightly, that ‘we know what works’. Indeed we do. But equally there will always be political leaders and, increasingly, pressure groups who are bent on persuading people that they cannot really run their own lives and that the state must do it for them. And sadly but inevitably, there will always be people who prefer idleness to effort, dependency to independence, and modest rewards just as long as nobody does better. There is always a danger that, as Freidrich Hayek put it in his Road to Serfdom, ‘the striving for security tends to become stronger than the love for freedom’.  It mustn’t.”

As a unified Germany and their elated allies rejoice in the fall of a wall that allowed freedom to sweep across a continent, America has begun to map out the creation of a permanent welfare state. The dichotomy between the celebration of freedom in Europe and the limiting of freedom in America is startling and is the very dichotomy that Thatcher and Hayek both once wrote about. If freedom is so worthy of celebration than why are we simultaneously legislating it away. The Nostradamion words of Hayek and Thatcher are worth our attention. They are worth our asking whether or not we have in fact placed more value on personal security than individual freedom.

It is a question we must. For whether we realize it or not, we have begun to build a wall of our own. The Washington Wall. One which is a solid divide of federal control that will give bureaucrats and the political class freedom on one side, and on the other side will be us, the ones being oppressed by the regulations and laws of the political class.

The announcement of our winner of “History’s Greatest A**hole” contest will have to wait, as Mr. D needs to wax nostalgic about today’s anniversary.

Twenty years ago today, on November 9, 1989, the Berlin Wall, the most visible and hated symbol of the Cold War, came tumbling down as the East German government flung open its borders.  The opening of the Wall was the beginning of the end for Communism in Eastern Europe, as (mostly) peaceful revolutions swept across the continent, bringing down regime after regime until the great bear itself, the Soviet Union, dissolved in 1991.

Today, most kids have never even heard of the word Communism or anything like a Cold War.  Yet try to be a child seeing these events unfold.  For my generation, those that witnessed the end of an era, we couldn’t even believe it was happening.

For most of our lives, we thought that the great conflict between East and West, the Cold War, the struggle between the United States and the Soviet Union had reached a meandering stalemate that could last forever.  If the rivalry did heat up, it was usually every four years during the Olympic Games. 

 I was a precocious kid, and even at that age a rabid anti-Communist.  Most of my friends used words like “Commie” and “Russkie” pretty casually, but I knew the evil they contained.  When Katerina Witt of East Germany won the gold medal in figure skating in 1988, I left the room.  I screamed at my parents that I refused to listen to an anthem from a Communist dictatorship.    No one booed louder when Nickolai Volkoff sang the Soviet national anthem before wrestling for the WWF (now WWE). 

Christ, I made Alex P. Keaton look like Nancy Pelosi.

Yet even I, the great red-baiter that I was, had the inevitable shrug most had when confronting the Soviet menace.  They were there, and they we there to stay.  As long as they don’t move from where they are, and no sneaky stuff with Typhoon submarines, then I guess we can coexist.  It was even a buzzword of the Brezhnev-era Kremlin: “peaceful coexistence.” 

Then I heard about what was happening in Poland.  Yes, I was a wierd kid: the Solidarity movement of Lech Walesa fascinated me. 

I mean, here was a situation that, to a true lover of Marx and Lenin, made absolutely no sense: a “worker’s republic” refusing to let a group of shipyard workers from Gdansk organize into a labor union.  A labor union is the crux of all Communist ideology, and it was turned on its head as Solidarity formed to combat unfair conditions laid down by Warsaw’s Soviet satellite regime.  The authorities fought back brutally, enforcing martial law from 1981-1982.  Yet the movement survived, and it worked to undermine, and eventually destroy, the Polish dictatorship.

The Polish revolution worked because of a gap in the Soviet clinch on power.  By the 1980s, the Soviets were in economic freefall, and badly needed Western capital and technology just to keep up.  Thus, Soviet General Secretary Mikhail Gorbachev began a program of gradual liberalization of the economy (perestroika) followed by a loosening of the authoritarian political landscape (glasnost).  On top of this, Moscow basically allowed its satellites to do what they wanted.  There would be no repeat of the crackdowns of years past–this time the Red Army will not interfere.

The result was a flood of anger and resentment.  Reform movements were going on all over Eastern Europe, mostly among grassroots groups looking for bread-and-butter changes: better housing, higher wages, better working conditions, etc.  The people’s republics simply grew so stagnant that they were completely divorced from the reality of the people, and rebels like Vaclav Havel and Lech Walesa were considered heroes.

Yet we never thought that wall would ever come down.  And it did, thanks to massive demonstrations, public media attention, and an East German government willing to say “enough is enough”, and replace the autocratic Erich Honecker with the more pliant Egon Krenz, who summarily threw open the borders to allow East Germans free access to the west.  That hated wall, that son-of-a-bitch wall finally came down.

As with most things, the fall of the Berlin Wall and the collapse of Communism seemed inevitable now.  Today, we are still dealing with the aftereffects of the Revolutions of 1989, both good and bad.  But for kids like me, who never thought it was going to happen, the Berlin Wall was a moment we could never forget.  Like the clamoring hordes in Boston in the 1770’s, no one was silencing the will of the people anymore.

It was twenty years ago today that….  How do you finish that sentence?  There are plenty obvious ways:

…that the wall came down.

…that the Cold War ended.

…that Communism failed.

…that capitalism (or was it democracy?  or are these even interchangeable?) triumphed.

blah blah blah

Okay, it was some of all of that, though with Slavoj Zizek I agree that it wasn’t the last thing on that list.

What I think changed that day, along with the weeks that led up to it and the cushy and technicolor revolutions that followed, was the notion that politics is about what governments do. Of course it is true that governments engage in politics; but it also became true that politics and political power are what peoples can engage in and create. This is “the politics of small things” that Jeffrey Goldfarb talks about in a book of that name.  It’s what happens when a group of people who have no official power get together and make a plan, as Harry Boyte and the civil rights movement he has studied discovered.

Of course, the immediate cause of the fall of the wall was some bumbling bureacrats fumbling a speech, and then people heading to the gate, and a series of coincidences that let first a trickle and then a flood of people breaching and then tearing down the wall. And behind that cause was the weakening of the Soviet Union, perestroika, Gorbachev, and all that.  But a more fundamental cause, one that could capitalize on the others, was the rise of new civic movements in East Germany and Czechoslovakia, and the long tradition of Poland’s Solidarity movement, that gave lie to the idea that all power rests with the state. These movements created a kind of lateral or horizontal power, webs of power that Hannah Arendt had noted, the power of solidarity.

Before November 1989, for at least three decades, almost all political activists of all stripes on either side of the “iron curtain” focused on the state in their attempt to bring about political change. The new civic movements of 1989 showed the power of nongovermental action and civil society for creating change. Before 1989 the language of civil society was slowly entering back into the lexicon of political theory, after dusting off lots of old copies of Hegel texts. But after 1989 the language of civil society flooded into every crevice of academic, philanthopic, and development activity.

It was twenty years ago today that THAT change happened.

NOTES from the UNDERGROUND No. 203 | November 17, 2009

VÁCLAV HAVEL

(Writer and ‘Revolution’)

This is the 20th Anniversary of the Velvet Revolution, which led to the downfall of the Soviets in Czechoslovakia and the creation of the Czech Republic. Havel, one of my heroes, who speaks to a large part of my heritage, the human condition, the artist as statesman, not to mention the ‘writer as witness’…ailing, much older, was there to deliver the opening remarks in celebration of the student uprising that took place in Prague on November 17, 1989.

Times there have changed—for better and worse—but Havel lives on. Still speaks with such power, depth, common sense, that I thought it perfect and appropriate to go back to his book of 1990 and revisit the real poetry of power. If you have never read him, seen his plays, heard him interviewed…you will sense immediately the man’s heart, vision…self-deprecation.

Not many artists or writers of his caliber find themselves thrust into the role of national politics. I sometimes speculate / compare one American playwright who might have been our Havel had circumstances here proved similar.

Only one man of words comes close: Arthur Miller. –norbert blei

You’ve evaluated yourself as a playwright; how would you evaluate yourself as a person? …perhaps this might be an occasion for some self-reflection…

It’s a diabolical task, and the first and only thing I can say about it right now is that my life, my work, my position, everything I’ve done, seems intertwined with a suspiciously large number of paradoxes. Take this one, for instance: I get involved in many things, yet I’m an expert in none of them. Over the years, for example, I’ve become known as a political activist, but I’ve never been a politician, never wanted to be one; I don’t have any of the necessary qualities for it. Both my opponents and my supporters see me as a political phenomenon, though nothing I do can be considered real politics. Every once in a while I philosophize—yet what kind of philosopher am I anyway? Certainly I’ve enjoyed reading philosophical books since my youth, but my philosophical education is more than shaky, and thoroughly piecemeal. I occasionally write about literature—yet, if there’s anything I most certainly am not, it’s a literary critic. There are times when I even stick my nose into music, and yet, if anything, my musicality is only a source of general amusement. Even in what I would consider my chief, original vocation—theatre— I’m not really an expert. I went through theatre school quickly and without much interest; I don’t like reading plays or books on theatre; I don’t enjoy going to most theatre; I have a personal opinion, of sorts, about the kind of theatre I like, and I write my plays in that spirit, but that’s all.

So I’m not at all certain that theatre is my very own, unique and indispensable mission. I can easily imagine that, if an irresistible opportunity were to come my way, I could just as easily devote the same amount of energy to another discipline. I certainly don’t feel like a professional theatre person, one inevitably drawn to theatre, whose destiny is forever linked with the theatre. And rather than be a dramaturge in any old theatre just because I’ve been trained to be one, I’d prefer to go back to working in a brewery. In any case, as a dramatist I’m somewhat suspect: I can write in my own highly particular way, within the limits of my narrowly defined poetics, but if I had to write something that even slightly departed from that, I would probably be a miserable failure.

In general, then, though I have a presence in many places, I don’t really have a firm, predestined place anywhere, in terms of neither my employment, nor my expertise, nor my education and upbringing, nor my qualities and skills. I’m not saying that airborne, unrooted, disturbing existences such as mine are not necessary. But this alters nothing in the paradoxical tension between the seriousness with which I am accepted and my amateurism. The list of my private paradoxes doesn’t end here, it’s just the beginning. Some others, at random: I have chosen a rather agitated way of life, and I myself am always ruffling the surface somewhere, yet I long for nothing more than peace and quiet. I have an extraordinary love of harmony, comfort, agreement, and friendly mutual understanding between people (I’d be happiest if everyone simply liked everyone else, always); tension, conflict, misunderstanding, uncertainty, and confusion upset me; yet my position in the world always has been and continues to be deeply controversial. I’ve been in conflict with the state and with various institutions and organizations all my life; my reputation is that of an eternal rebel and protester, to whom nothing is sacred; and my plays are anything but a picture of peace and harmony. I’m very unsure of myself, almost a neurotic. I tend to panic easily; I’m always terrified of something, scared even that the telephone might ring; I’m plagued by self-doubts, and I’m always masochistically blaming or cursing myself for something; yet I appear to many (and to a degree rightly so!) as someone who is sure of himself, with an enviable equanimity, quiet, levelheaded, constant, persistent, down-to-earth, always standing up for himself. I am rational and systematic, I love order and orderliness; I am disciplined and reliable, at times almost bureaucratically pedantic; at the same time I’m oversensitive, almost a little sentimental, someone who’s always been drawn by everything mysterious, magic, irrational, inexplicable, grotesque, and absurd, everything that escapes order and makes it problematic. I’m a sociable person who likes being with people, organizing events, bringing people together; a cheerful fellow, sometimes the conversational life of the party, one who enjoys drinking and the various pleasures and trespasses of life—and at the same time I’m happiest when alone, and consequently my life is a constant escape into solitude and quiet introspection.

You pointed to another paradox yourself a while ago, and even though I was able to show that it wasn’t really a paradox, I admit that it must seem that way: I write mercilessly skeptical, even cruel plays—and yet in other matters I behave almost like a Don Quixote and an eternal dreamer, foolishly struggling for some ideal or another. At my core I’m shy and timid—and yet in some forums I’m notorious as a rabble-rouser who is not afraid to say the toughest things right to someone’s face. Or something else, which I’ve already mentioned in another connection: for many people I’m a constant source of hope, and yet I’m always succumbing to depressions, uncertainties, and doubts, and I’m constantly having to look hard for my own inner hope and revive it, win it back from myself with great difficulty, so that I scarcely seem to have any to give away. So I’m not really comfortable in the role of a distributor of hope and encouragement to those around me, since I’m always on the lookout for some encouragement myself. I come across as one who is steadfast and brave, if not hardheaded, who did not hesitate to choose prison when far more attractive options were offered him— and there are times when I have to laugh at my reputation. The fact is, I’m always afraid of something, and even my alleged courage and stamina spring from fear: fear of my own conscience, which delights in tormenting me for real and imaginary failures. And all that heroic time in prison was in fact one long chain of worries, fears, and terrors: I was a frightened, terrified child, confusedly present on this earth, afraid of life, and eternally doubting the rightness of his place in the order of things; I probably bore prison worse than most of those who admired me would. Whenever I heard the familiar shout in the hallways, “Havel!,” I would panic. Once, after hearing my name yelled out like that, I jumped out of bed without thinking and cracked my skull on the window. And with all this, and despite all this, I know that, if it were necessary, I would go back to prison again, and I would survive.

I could make a long list of such paradoxes, but my reluctance to talk about myself in public is gradually winning out over my good will in wishing to answer your questions truthfully, so I’ll conclude with some questions that I sometimes ask myself: How does it all fit together? Why don’t these paradoxical qualities cancel each other out instead of coexisting and cooperating with each other? What does all this mean? What should I think about it all? How can I—this odd mix of the most curious opposites—get through life, and by all reports successfully?

One final question. Given this awareness of yourself, how do you see your future? What do you think is awaiting you? What do you hope for, and what do you expect?

The paradoxes will continue. I’ll go on, as I’ve always done, sitting down in front of a blank piece of paper with distaste; I will try everything to avoid writing, always terrified of those first words on the page. I will continue to find artificial ways of giving myself the courage to write. I will despair that it’s not coming, yet I’ll always manage to write a new play. The mysterious inner furies who have invented these torments will probably not leave me in peace and will have their own way in the end. As always, I will be upset by all the expectations (many of which are out of proportion and even foolish) that I’m burdened with, and all the roles, from the representative to the Good Samaritan, that are prescribed for me. I will continue to revolt against them and reclaim my right to peace—and I will ultimately carry out all these tasks and even find sincere delight in doing so. I will go on being bothered by things, fearing some things, getting into states, blaming myself, cursing, and despairing—and, as always, I will be found reliable and will be seen where my place is. I’ll always end up paying for it, but, oddly enough, I’ll survive and be there, causing disruption wherever necessary.

I can only conclude this prediction, and our conversation, by attempting to articulate the final and obviously the most paradoxical paradox of my life: I suspect that somewhere, deep down, I find this paradoxical life of mine terribly entertaining.

[from DISTURBING THE PEACE, Václav Havel, A Conversation with Karel Hvίžďala. translated by Paul Wilson. Knopf, 1990]