by Uwe Johnson
Let us say in fairness that many of them long ago realized what a false game they were playing. Today we can recognize these individuals by the fact that they are trying to redress old wrongs, rectify mistakes, hand back decision-making power to rank-and-file party members and citizens, and set limits on the power, and size, of the administration. They share our opposition to the reactionary views held within the party. But a large number of officials have been resistant to any and all change. They still retain the instruments of power, especially outside of Prague, at the district and community levels, where they can wield them in secret and without fear of accountability.
Since the beginning of this year we have found ourselves in a process of regeneration and democratization.
It started inside the Communist Party—that much we must admit, even the non-Communists who no longer hoped for anything good to emerge from that quarter. It must also be added, of course, that the process could have started nowhere else, since for more than twenty years only the Communists could conduct any sort of political activity; it was only the opposition inside the Communist Party that enjoyed the privilege of being heard by their antagonists. Now the efforts and initiative being shown by democratically minded Communists are only a partial repayment of the debt the entire party owes to the non-Communists hitherto refused an equal position. Accordingly, no thanks are due to the Communist Party. But perhaps we should give the party credit for making an honest eleventh-hour effort to save its own honor and the nation’s.
What this process of regeneration has introduced into our lives is nothing particularly new. It includes many ideas and problems older than the errors of Socialism, and others which, having emerged from below the surface of visible events, should have found expression long ago but were instead repressed. Let us not nurse the illusion that these ideas are destined to prevail now because the power of truth is on their side. Rather, their victory will be decided purely by the weakness of the old system, obviously falling into exhaustion after twenty years of unchallenged rule. Apparently the basic defects of the system, already hidden in its ideological foundations, had to come to full fruition. So let us not overestimate the effects of the writers’ and students’ criticisms. The source of social change is economic. A true word makes its mark only when it is spoken under conditions that have been properly prepared—conditions that, in our context, unfortunately include the impoverishment of our whole society and the complete collapse of centralized government, which had enabled certain types of politicians to get rich quietly and at our expense. Truth does not prevail alone here—truth is merely what remains when everything else has been frittered away! So there is no occasion for a national victory celebration, merely a reason for hope.
In this moment of hope, albeit hope still threatened, we appeal to you. It took several months before many of us were able to trust that it was safe to speak up; many of us are still afraid to do so. But we have already spoken up enough, exposed ourselves enough, that now we have no choice but to continue and finish our efforts to humanize the regime. Otherwise the old forces will exact cruel revenge. We appeal above all to those who have waited on the sidelines thus far. Now is the time that will decide our future for years to come.
Now is the time for summer holidays, a time when we are inclined to let everything slip. But we must not forget that our dear adversaries will skip their summer break; they will rally everyone who is under any obligation to them, and take steps, even now, to secure themselves a quiet Christmas! Let us watch carefully how things develop; let us try to understand them and have our answers ready. Let us give up our impossible desire to have someone from on high provide the single possible explanation and the single correct conclusion. Everyone will have to draw their own conclusion, on their own responsibility. Common, agreed-upon conclusions can only be reached in discussions among all sides, and those presuppose freedom of speech—which may remain the only democratic achievement we have accomplished this year.
But in the days to come we must act on our own initiative and make our own decisions.
First and foremost, we must oppose the view, whenever it is voiced, that a democratic renewal can be achieved without the Communists, or even in opposition to them. This would be unjust, and foolish too. The Communists have a well-developed organization in place, and we must support its progressive wing. They have experienced officials, and, not least important, they still control the crucial levers of power. They have presented their Action Program to the public. This program should start to resolve the most glaring injustices, and no one else has a program worked out in such detail. We must demand that they present local Action Programs in every district, every community. Then we will suddenly face very simple decisions, to be decided the right way, as we have so long awaited. The Czechoslovak CP is preparing for its congress, where it will have to elect a new Central Committee. We demand that it be a better one. If the party says that it now plans to base its leadership position on the confidence of the public, not on force, let us believe them, but only to the extent that we can place our trust in who they are sending as delegates to the district and regional assemblies.
People have recently been worried that the progress of democratization might come to a halt. This feeling is partly a sign of fatigue after the thrilling events of the past few months, but partly it reflects the truth. The season of astonishing revelations, of removals from high office, and of heady speeches couched in language of unaccustomed daring—all this is over. But the struggle of opposing forces is merely taking place on another level, over the content and formulation of the laws, over the scope of practical measures. Besides, we must give the new people time to work: the new ministers, prosecutors, chairmen, and secretaries. They are entitled to time to prove themselves fit or unfit. Beyond this, we cannot expect much from the central political bodies, though they have, in spite of themselves, made a remarkably good showing so far.
The practical quality of our future democracy now depends on what happens to the factories and in the factories. Despite all our discussion, it is the ones who manage the businesses who have us in their power. Good managers must be sought out and promoted. True, we are all badly paid in comparison with people in the developed countries, some of us worse than others. We can ask for more money. But then it would just be printed, as much as we want, and devalued in the process. Let us rather ask the directors and the board chairmen to tell us what they want to produce and at what cost, to whom they want to sell it and at what price, the profit that will result, and how much of that profit will be reinvested in modernizing production, how much will be left over for distribution. Under seemingly boring headlines, our press is covering a hard battle being fought—the battle of democracy versus the feeding trough. The workers, as employers, can intervene in this battle by electing the right people to management and workers’ councils. As employees, they can help themselves best by electing trade union delegates to represent their interests—honest and capable individuals irrespective of their party affiliation.
If we cannot expect much from the central political bodies at the present time, it is all the more crucial to accomplish more at the district and community levels. We demand the resignation of those who abused their power, damaged public property, and acted cruelly or dishonorably. Ways must be found to compel them to resign. To mention a few: public criticism, resolutions, demonstrations, demonstrative work brigades, collections for their retirement, strikes, and picketing their offices. But we must reject all illegal, dishonorable, or boorish methods, which they use against Alexander Dubček. We must reject so forcefully and completely the practice of writing vile anonymous letters that any such letters that are reported in the future will be known to have been written by the recipients themselves.
Let us revive the work of the National Front. Let us demand public sessions of the national committees. For questions that no one else will look into, we will set up our own citizens’ committees and commissions. There is nothing difficult ab
out it: a few people come together, elect a chairman, keep proper minutes, publish them, and refuse to be intimidated. Let us convert the district and local newspapers, which have mostly degenerated to the level of official mouthpieces, into a platform for all the forward-looking elements in politics; let us demand that editorial boards include National Front representatives, or else let us start new papers. Let us form committees for the defense of free speech. At our meetings, let us have our own security forces. If we hear strange reports about someone, let us seek confirmation, then send a delegation to the proper authorities and publicize their findings, posting them on doors if necessary.
Let us support the police forces when they prosecute genuine wrongdoing, for it is not our goal to create anarchy or a state of general uncertainty. Let us avoid quarrels among neighbors and drunkenness on political occasions. But let us expose informers!
Summer travel throughout the republic will also make it more desirable to settle the constitutional relations between the Czech Republic and Slovakia. Let us consider federalization as one possibility for resolving the national question, but as only one of many important measures for democratizing the system. This particular measure will not in itself improve life in Slovakia. Having separate governments in the Czech lands and Slovakia doesn’t solve anything. Rule by a state-and-party bureaucracy could still continue, and might even be strengthened in Slovakia by the claim that it had ‘won more freedom.’
There has recently been great alarm over the possibility that foreign forces will intervene in our development. Faced with all the great powers, we can only defend our own point of view, behave decently, and not defy or challenge anyone. We must show our government that we will stand by it, with weapons if need be, as long as it does what we give it a mandate to do. And we can assure our allies that we will observe all our treaties of alliance, friendship, and trade. Exasperated reproaches and unfounded suspicions on our part can only make things harder for our government, not help it. In any case, the only way we can achieve relations on a basis of equality is to improve our domestic situation and carry the process of renewal far enough to someday elect statesmen with sufficient fortitude, prestige, and political acumen to negotiate and maintain such equality for us. But this is a problem that the governments of all small countries face.
This spring we have been given another great opportunity, as we were after the war. Once again we have the chance to seize control of our common cause, which bears the working title of SOCIALISM, and give it a form more appropriate to our reputation, once good, and the fairly high opinion we used to have of ourselves. This spring is over and will never return. By winter we will know where we stand.
So ends our call to the workers, farmers, officials, artists, scholars, scientists, engineers, and to everyone. It was written at the behest of scholars and scientists.”
Employee Cresspahl got to work late today. First she played hooky and stopped by the Italian delegation of the UN—uninvited, without phoning first. Signora Sabatino couldn’t quite believe that someone she knew only from the Rolodex for second-tier cocktails was standing here in person. But at the receptions she serves food and gives every guest an encouraging look, which says silently but clearly enough for everyone to feel they’ve heard it: Well? Another hors d’oeuvre? Just a little something? How about this one?
She had only one question. How could someone get ahold of a Prague paper from yesterday in New York today. The one, you know, that today’s Times. . . .
– Ma!: Mrs. Sabatino cried at once. – Ma abbiamo quattro edizioni di questo manifesto! La Práce, Zemědělské Noviny e Mladá Fronta! Anche le Sue Literární Listy! Signora, do take off your coat! Your hair’s wet! You’re the lady who sends letters for Signor Karresh, aren’t you? I’ll announce you to His Excellency Dr. Pompa, he is very busy at the moment, doing nothing whatsoever. Just two minutes, I’ll go in and interrupt him with coffee. Facciamo cosí, signora?
But Mrs. Cresspahl left right away, through the rain, seven photocopied sheets under her coat. One has to at least pretend to be at work. And then she cheated the bank out of a whole workday; our Vice President de Rosny himself would have asked in vain what this Czech document has to do with a trip to Prague. Employee Cresspahl wouldn’t just have reminded him that it was she and none other who was to take that trip in August to the land where the Socialists talk like this, on a mission from the bank. She’d likely have added how disruptive it is for bosses to interrupt one, or something like that. This was practically homework! Mrs. Cresspahl had her lunch brought up from Sam’s! The radio, set to the Prague station, emitted foreign words, another country’s music, it was hot to the touch when she took it home that evening. Today it looked like almost no work had been done in the office.
Komunistická strana, která měla po válce velikou důvěru lidí, postupně ji vyměňovala za úřady, až je dostala všechny a nic jiného už neměla. Musíme to tak říci. . . .
No, even closer to the beginning: Událostmi, které ohrozily jeho duševní zdraví a charakter. Destroyed the integrity. . . ? That’s not the right word at all.
Today, too, our radio gives the good honest water levels of the Vltava, and it also offers the answers of some citizens.
Prime Minister Oldřich Černík denounces such letters before the National Assembly. He concludes by practically inciting deeds from which might arise things such as nervousness, unrest, and judicial uncertainty.
The presidium of the Central Committee of the Communist Party of Czechoslovakia believes its policy is under attack from this letter—the program of the National Front and the government itself in danger.
If you want to know what’s possible for Socialism in our time, learn Czech, my friends!
June 29, 1968 Saturday, South Ferry day
The Rawehns, ff. Ladies’ and Gentlemen’s Apparel, had had a store on Gneez’s market square since Napoleonic times. It had once been loosely affiliated with the famous Ravens of Wismar; in fall 1946 a coat for the winter should still turn out in a way that Rawehn deemed fashionable, all the more so if the customer was merely a tradesman’s child from Jerichow, under the care of an old woman from even farther out, a refugee. Madame Rawehn, a short strapping woman not yet forty, in a city suit as tempting as it was unbreachable, acted by no means snooty toward this Mrs. Abs and her protégée, who promised to pay in wheat. Mustn’t provoke rich customers. And it’d been a long time since she’d had such fine black worsted fabric in her hands, it had probably been lying in a drawer since 1938, a French drawer perhaps; she would have been happy to buy more than one and a half yards, double wide. Not to mention the tartan pattern lining. But how this Gesine Cresspahl looked at her! It made her check the mirror! Where she saw herself taking measurements—her whole body tight in its crouch, chestnut-brown hair done up in tight rolls, the hairdo known as the all clear: “Everybody up!” So it wasn’t about how she looked. In the end it was just the defiance that girls at that age are so prone to show.
The girl was picturing a long coat, below the knee. Children wore short coats at Rawehn’s. The girl wanted the buttons hidden. Brought eight large horn buttons with her, could you conceal those? The girl wanted a high collar, standing up around the neck; Peter Pan collars were in fashion for children, covering half the shoulders, with rounded corners. The girl would have preferred no belt in the back. – But that’ll ruin the chic? Helene Rawehn cried. – Everyone will know this is our work, whatll the people in Gneez think!
She did not fail to realize that the thirteen-year-old was looking for support from her companion’s face every now and then, the woman with such a hollow look about the eyes. She received glances meant to console and encourage, in which Helene noticed no sign of any knowledge of the art of tailoring. Plus the woman barely spoke. Madame Rawehn gave in about the belt in the back. She’d just fasten it with buttons at the side seams, removable at will. She could whipstitch the hem if the girl wanted to wear it Soviet-style. The coat would be big enough to grow into s
o she could wear it for two years. As for the visible buttons, the flared cut, and the collar, Helene refused to give an inch: she felt the art and the honor of the House of Rawehn (Raven) were at stake. In the end the child rarely balked during the fittings (on Sundays, after creeping diplomatically down the Tüsche and through the back door so as not to give the Soviet ladies in the waiting room with their English magazines too tempting a look at the fabric), and Madame Rawehn actually didn’t cheat the child out of a single ounce of flour, even sewing the buttonholes by hand; she sincerely wished she could have put the finished piece in the display window to advertise her services, if these times had been like those of peace; she had worries of her own, about the husband missing near Kharkiv—Heini, that love-crazed skirt-chaser. Why shouldn’t a child get to pout a little in times like these?