In classes at Tufts, you're liable to hear about communist governments all the time, but it is nearly always in a Cold War context. We talk about the system's ideological tenets, or perhaps its economic failures, but I never heard about what communism might have meant for individuals actually living in a communist regime. In fact, for many American college students, communism is just an antiquated clichhe.
So when I went to the first week of my "Culture of Dissent" class with Professor Jan Urban, the topics of his lectures struck me as very novel. Instead of international relations or economics, we became privy to an often painfully personal description of what totalitarian rule was like for individuals and what the consequences of rebellion were.
Urban (pronounced ur-BAN) is something of a political celebrity in the Czech Republic. In 1989, after over a decade of dissidence, Urban helped to found the Civic Forum, the mass-based movement that overthrew the communist regime. In 1990, he was elected as the leader of the Civic Forum and led the party to its victory in the first free democratic elections in June of that year. The day after the electoral defeat of communism, Urban quit politics and returned to a career of journalism and teaching.
Among the students in New York University's study abroad program here, he is a topic of the utmost fascination. Those of us enrolled in the class talk about him constantly. Even at 9 a.m., we're excited to know that the morning's discussion could range from Urban's clandestine trips across the Polish border to his experience with Salvadorian armies of grenade-wielding 10-year-olds.
I was lucky enough to sit down with Urban and discuss a range of topics. This week's column consists of our conversation about life as a dissident in the communist regime.
We started by discussing how he began dissenting from the government. "It was kind of a family tradition to go against government wishes in any regime," said Urban, who had told us in one of our first classes that his father had fought against the Nazis during their occupation of the Czech Republic from 1938-1945.
"In my case [this impulse to dissent] was strengthened by what happened in 1968," he said.
In 1968, the Soviets sent tanks into Prague to end the liberalizing attitude that had characterized the "Prague Spring."
"My first encounter with the regime was when I failed a test of loyalty," Urban said. "It was January 1977 when the first organized human rights group, 'Charter 77,' took place. All state employees, including teachers - I was a young high school teacher at the time - were required to sign a condemnation of this 'anti-socialist, imperialist plot.' And I refused to sign it."
"I was immediately suspended - the police led me out of the building," he said.
For the next 12 years, Urban lived as a dissident, often in hiding from the police, and basically being a pain in the regime's side in myriad ways.
I told Urban that I thought a lot of young Americans - and perhaps older Americans as well; I wouldn't know - don't understand about the most repressive aspects of communist rule. It's something very removed from us, and I asked him to tell me what daily life was like before 1989.
"It's not you who decides," he said. "It's the regime. You want to travel? It's the regime's decision, not your right. To study? The same. The state controls everything - education, jobs, culture, travel - and the slightest sign of dissent makes you an outcast."
"[When you do dissent], your friends cross the street not to be seen with you. People stop seeing you," he added.
I asked him if this was the hardest part of rebelling. "Yes. You understand very quickly that people are afraid of you, and you start being afraid yourself," Urban said. "You distrust people because anyone can inform on you, and it changes all your life."
"At one stage I hadn't written a word on paper for nine years, just to not leave traces," he added. "I would never meet people in pubs for maybe 15 years. You go somewhere and you check everything and everyone. You distrust and lie as a program because this is the only safe way to survive."
I am coming to realize, both from Urban's class and our conversation, that this is the true nature of totalitarianism. It is not about politics. It is about psychology, and it is about creating fear and institutionalizing that fear in every soul possible.
The next time your international relations or economics professor starts explaining the Cold War as an ideological struggle or communism as a failed economic experiment, remember that for men like Urban, it was far different. For the people who lived under these regimes, communism meant the indefinite paralysis of personal freedom.
The focus of next week's column will switch to the future of Czech politics and the rampant speculation that communists may again have a share of power after the 2006 elections. It will also consider whether Americans are asking enough questions of their own government.
Perhaps some more dissent might not be the worst thing for us, too? According to Urban, "something is brewing" back Stateside.
