The World According to Kašpárek (or The Disappointed Dissident)
The eyes of European leaders were on the Czech Republic in recent weeks, as the Czech Constitutional Court ruled whether the Treaty of Lisbon was in compliance with the country’s constitution. For those in the States who haven’t been following, the treaty is the latest effort to create a more united Europe. It’s basically a compromise, after a draft European Constitution was defeated by voters in France and the Netherlands a couple years ago. The new treaty, some 500 pages long, would create, among other things, a European president.
Anyway, at this point all 27 member states have approved the Treaty, except for Ireland and the Czech Republic. The court, having ruled the Treaty doesn’t conflict with the Czech Constitution, has cleared the way for it to be voted on by the Czech Parliament, which could happen by the end of the year, or early next year.
All of these developments have infuriated the country’s president, Vaclav Klaus, a renowned euroskeptic and general contrarian, and, in the eyes of many in Brussels, a ‘kašpárek,’ which in Czech means, ‘clown,’ or ‘court jester.’ One of my students, Tomaš, who works in the Czech Ministry of Foreign Affairs, was on hand for the court's verdict in the town of Brno, and says he saw the president’s reaction:
‘Oh, yes, he was pretty angry.’
Tomaš and I have had similar discussions before, and last Friday, sitting in the office of one of the country’s top government officials (said official was out of the office), Tomaš scratched his chin in a way that suggested he‘d been chewing on the subject of his country’s president for some time.
‘You know, James,’ he said. ‘Klaus I think – it’s like this. During Communism, Klaus was one of those people who was too afraid to express dissent, and now he envies those who did.’
He’s referring specifically to Vaclav Havel, the playwright, dissident, former president and hero of the 1989 revolution. Havel has become an international icon whose name frequently comes up as a nominee for the Nobel Peace Prize. Klaus, who founded his conservative Civic Democrat Party (ODS) in 1991, is largely known as an economist.
‘Anyway,’ Tomaš went on. ‘He’s vain (meaning Klaus), and he wants to have the kind of reputation internationally that Havel has, and so he’s trying to be a dissident -- now that it’s safe to be a dissident. But instead he behaves like an adolescent.’
Others – an increasing number – echo this sentiment, especially over the past year, in which time Klaus has addressed the United Nations to voice his opinion that man-made global warming is, ‘like second-hand smoke,’ a ‘myth,’ and has repeatedly and openly denounced the European Union as being similar to Communist Russia, restricting market and personal freedoms. In a more inscrutable move, Klaus also sided with Russia, the Czechs’ long-time enemy, when that country opted to invade and occupy parts of Georgia.
This past week, Klaus resigned from ODS, the party he himself founded, claiming he no longer identifies with it. And why? Because the party voted to retain Prime Minister Mirek Topolanek as party chairman over Prague Mayor Pavel Bem, who is sympathetic to Klaus’ euroskeptic opinions. On top of resigning, in a curiously childish move, the nation’s president called up members of his party and informed them he was deleting their phone numbers from his mobile.
Actually, Klaus’ growing estrangement, or disappointed dissidence, may in the end be good for his country, opined Jan Macháček, a columnist for the weekly Respekt, following the court’s decision.
‘The very good news is that our court decided quickly and did not give President Klaus space for too much exhibition,’ Macháček wrote. ‘And the very good news for our democracy is that the Constitutional Court has emancipated itself from the opinions of President Klaus even though most of the justices were named directly by him.’
What will be interesting for Americans is to see whether the Lisbon Treaty will play a role in the U.S. government’s plans to build a anti-missile defense shield in Central Europe. The radar would be located in the Czech Republic and the missiles in Poland. Thus far, two treaties have been signed – even though polls suggest the majority of Czechs oppose the radar. A final vote is expected in Parliament early next year – at about the same time Czech lawmakers will vote of the Lisbon Treaty.
Klaus’ party, ODS, has voiced support for the radar and objections to the Lisbon Treaty. However, as seen by Klaus’ recent fall-out with his party, Topolanek and others within the party have indicated a willingness to sign on to the treaty, providing the major opposition party, the Social Democrats, CSSD, support the radar.
Could there be a trade-off?
‘Well, no one is saying that officially,’ says Tomaš. But unofficially, it is a possibility.
Anyway, back to Klaus. I’ve never actually met him, though I have met Havel and Bem, both while on assignment for publications here in Prague. How is it that Klaus, who at the end of the day deserves credit for his role in helping the country move forward after the collapse of communism, appears to be so out of step with the times, or at least with his own party, and much of the Czech public?
In fairness, it should be noted that one of the big reasons for Klaus’ deep-seated euroskepticism is memories of Munich 1938, when Czechoslovakia was ‘sold out’ to Hitler by Western European leaders in an attempt to appease the dictator. However, it is a disturbing irony now that among Klaus’ dwindling number of supporters are right-wing extremists – specifically neo-Nazis – some of whom recently clashed with Roma (gypsies) living in a town just north of Prague.
‘We can see Klaus,’ writes Tomaš Pinos in the Czech Business Weekly, ‘as a neuralgic point not only in Czech but also in European politics. We can see him as a president not of all people but as a president of a smaller and smaller group of people, a president who is increasingly sympathetic to the extreme edges of the political system.’
Another student, Daniel, who is a lawyer for EU affairs, puts his frustration with Klaus this way:
‘Klaus is always talking about Czech national interests,’ Daniel says. ‘But the problem is: nobody knows what he means by Czech national interests! He feels that his opinions are the only correct opinions, but doesn’t feel he needs to explain or defend those opinions.’
At the end of the day, what matters is that Czechs are at a sort of cross roads, a point where the country is faced with serious choices. Starting in January, the Czechs will assume the EU’s rotating presidency. Recently, given Klaus’ statements and behavior, some, including France’s president Nicolas Sarkozy, questioned whether the Czechs were ready for such a responsibility – prompting Prime Minister Topolanek to defensively and publicly declare that the country is indeed ready (As an aside, many of my students at the Office of the Government have been working ten, twelve hour days for the past year to get ready).
Thus, with the presidency, the clearance by the Constitutional Court, and the upcoming vote in Parliament, the Czechs have an opportunity to show they want to deepen their relationship with and committment to a more united Europe. It seems a natural, if not inevitable step – though thus far not having converted to the euro, the Czechs have been an EU member state going on five years.
That’s one choice. Another would be to reject the Lisbon Treaty, which would appease Klaus but risk isolating the Czechs from their neighbors. Sovereignty is one thing, but in this era of a newly invigorated Russia, in an era when cooperation is the plan of the day, isn’t it merely foolish and persnickety to try to ‘go it alone?’
Well, but then, you’d have to ask Klaus, who appears to be living in a world of his own; be it proud contrarian, all-wise, all-knowing veteran statesman who remembers his history -- or kašpárek, the late-blooming, disappointed dissident. Once again, as my Czech friends say, uvidíme. We will see.