Iron Curtain Project

How to fix democracy: Poster workshop

20 November 2019

In a democracy there’s work to be done, because there’s always room for improvement. To stand still is to decline! Active citizens are vital for a good working democracy; after all, we are the system. What would you like to improve? What are you worried about? And do you feel responsible? In the poster workshop visitors make a personal action poster, based on templates with expressive symbols. The results  will become part of the pop-up museum’s collection and travel all around Europe. See the results also here.

Consensus Machine: WINWIN

20 November 2019

Consensus and compromise are essential for a democracy to work. After all, we can’t all get what we want. But a politician who makes compromises is often branded as a  weakling, and in these polarised times, it’s hard to reach consensus. Take the debate about climate change or the European Union: from their entrenched positions, supporters and opponents lob appalling insults at each other. We humans tend to be led by our emotions, a problem computers don’t face. That’s a win-win! Test in our museum the algoritme that helps to overwin the distance between opponents.

Democracy on the move

20 November 2019

Whether you’re on the left or the right, progressive or conservative: we have to agree on something, don’t we? Here in the Democracy Laboratory you’ll find four ‘moving posters’, similar to those old-fashioned classroom posters with spelling rules. The rules are incontrovertible. They provide the fundamental prerequisites for democracy. If these conditions are not met, there can be no democracy – no exceptions. A fact is not an opinion, but of course, in a democracy everything is up for debate, in principle. By setting the posters in motion, you discover how the principles work.

How to survive a dictatorship: A survival guide in video portraits

20 November 2019

Maintaining power is an art in itself, cynical as that may sound. Some dictators manage the feat for four decades without being deposed in a revolution. But the people are not crazy either. In all dictatorships citizens develop techniques to make daily life as bearable as possible. Often they use simple strategies like: grow your own vegetables, don’t trust anybody or flee in your own head. In the pop-up museum you will find a series of beautiful video portraits in which Europeans tell anout their favorite survival strategy. Together these videos form sort of a survival guide. You can also read about the strategies of dictators to maintain power as long as possible and find out who the dictator longest in chair is of this moment.

Boiling Frog Game: Test whether you’re a free citizen or a ‘boiled frog’

20 November 2019

Within a democracy your freedom seems so self-evident that you might not even notice when it is threatened. If you throw a frog in boiling water, it will jump out. But if you heat the water slowly, it will stay where it is. Nice and comfortable, until it’s boiled alive. Are you such a frog? In the Boiling Frog Game we test your ideas on your own freedom and that of others. This game is also part of Act for Liberty.

Game: Can you become our new supreme leader?

20 November 2019

In recent years, debates about democracy have often been about populism. Some see it at as threat to democracy, others as its salvation: finally the people (in Latin: populus) are coming to power. Either way, there is some confusion. In the Populist Game, you assume the role of a populist, and try to become and remain the Supreme Leader of your country. On level 1, you try to become as popular as you can. On level 2, you try to come to power, and on level 3, you can overthrow democracy. Who knows, you could top the high score and become the Supreme Leader. Practice the game here.

Flavia Kleiner: “I am fighting to defend the status quo.”

15 July 2018

Flavia Kleiner (1990) from Switzerland is a historian and the leader of Operation Libero

In 2015, everything seemed to indicate that the right-wing populists in Switzerland were going to win a referendum for the umpteenth time. This time they were planning to establish a new article in the Swiss constitution that would automatically expel immigrants who had committed even minor crimes. The other political parties kept quiet.

This made the Swiss Flavia Kleiner (1990), who was a student of history at the time, incredibly angry. If nobody was openly going to oppose this proposition, then she would. With the volunteer movement Operation Libero, she started a counter-campaign and frustrated the plans of the right-wing populists. The Swiss People’s Party, who forms the biggest group in parliament with nearly 30 percent of the seats, and who successfully dominates the public discourse and agenda in Switzerland, was gloriously defeated: 59 per cent of the Swiss people vote against the law. Since then, Kleiner, now a full-time political activist dressed in a ‘bulletproof jacket full of arguments’ with Operation Libero, has achieved success after success.

“It feels strange that I, a young person for goodness’ sake, am the one who is trying to maintain the status quo.”

In the context of ’68, you call yourself a conservative. Why?
“In 1968, citizens fought for freedoms. Fifty years later, I’m trying to defend those freedoms. It feels strange that I, a young person for goodness’ sake, am the one who is trying to maintain the status quo. I fight for the preservation of very basic liberties.”

What is going on?
“Everyone wants liberties, but they go together with responsibilities. In 2018 people seem less willing to bear these responsibilities. Take the terrorist attacks: the first thing they do is throw out the protection of privacy. Safety does not lead to more freedom at all, but the populists keep going on about it. It may even be an understandable response, but please, let us not throw overboard too quickly what our parents and grandparents have fought so hard for.

“There was a great transnational democratic moment after the First World War and another after the Second World War – the foundation for the EU was laid in that time. Then came ’68, and later the Fall of the Wall also led to critical democratic developments. I do not want to sound overly dramatic, but I wonder: could we organise a new democratic moment without it being preceded by a war?”

How do you, yourself, try to set that ‘democratic moment’ in motion?
“By ‘translating’, by explaining in plain language what it’s all about. We started Operation Libero because we were disappointed in the political parties: they followed the agenda and the rhetoric of the People’s Party for fear of losing votes. If the People’s party says they want to throw criminal foreigners out of the country, it obviously doesn’t make sense to defend ‘criminals’. Instead, we made clear what was really at stake: rule of law. If the fundamental principle, that everyone is treated equally before the law – whether Swiss or foreigner – is not respected anymore, then it has consequences for all people.”

How can you avoid the perception that the liberal elite will ‘explain it to the stupid citizens’?
“I don’t see it that way. Citizens are generally very sensible and reasonable, but just busy with their own lives. If you want to make something clear, you must make an effort to make people listen to you. We present a vision that we think is important, and then people decide for themselves what they do with it.”

Thomas Decreus: ‘We are heading for disaster.’

15 July 2018

Thomas Decreus (1984), Belgian journalist and philosopher

He effortlessly switches between journalism, science and activism. Thomas Decreus (1984) was one of the organisers of the SHAME demonstration in Brussels in 2011, in which tens of thousands of people participated. During this protest, the then political impasse in Belgium was criticised. Decreus was also involved in the Occupy movement. He wrote the book ‘Dit is morgen’ (This is tomorrow), in which he argues that real change is possible. Decreus, glasses, a serious look and small beard: “Today, revolution is no longer about a utopia or dream. It is necessary to survive.”

What does 1968 mean in this day and age?
“1968 has determined the political paradigm of today: all politics is a reaction to what was then under discussion – although this is not made explicit. You see it both on the right and on the left. The right operates from a kind of backlash: they try to undermine the cultural achievements of ’68. The story is more complex on the left: ‘68 was, in a sense, an uprising of the left against the left. Young people, intellectuals, as well as workers, distanced themselves from the institutions, including the labour unions where communist and social parties were in charge. ’68 caused clashes between different social movements. The left is still struggling with this legacy.

How would you describe the current mindset?
“I don’t think we are pessimistic enough. We don’t realise the seriousness of what is coming at us. We are heading for disaster. Not the kind of disaster, like in action films that will suddenly come upon us and will be spectacular. Rather, it will be a disaster that is slowly taking place but gradually completely disrupts society. How exactly? We are facing enormous socio-ecological challenges. A while ago, I interviewed a climate scientist. He told me: ‘When I speak to the media, I deliberately paint a picture that is not too bleak. Otherwise, they don’t see me as credible.’ When I speak to people my own age, I quickly notice that everyone is rather pessimistic. In 1968, a dream was chased, but now we are dealing with a fundamentally different society.”

“We need the spirit of ’68. Now more than ever.”

How do you want to initiate that change?
“We need the spirit of ’68. Now more than ever. There are a lot of protests these days as well. It’s just much more heterogeneous and fragmented than it was then. As a journalist, I have seen that protests sometimes lasted for weeks; then nothing happened, and the relevant law was pushed through anyway. It is difficult to really go for changes in a fully globalised world. There lies the challenge.”

We might go down. How should we go on?
“It seems we have forgotten the tradition a bit: the tradition to ask questions, the tradition of anti-authoritarianism. We need to honour that tradition and expand upon it. Take Greece: many refugees there have been given a place to stay in squatted buildings. Care and education opportunities are provided. These are interesting approaches that work better, at the moment, than state-run shelter.”
“1968 has changed a lot for many groups. In Belgium, women could not even access their own bank account before that time. That’s quite something. But if you are not careful, your achievements will be lost again.”

Alicja Gescinska: ‘All power to the imagination? We need common sense!’

12 July 2018

Alicja Gescinska (1981), Polish-Belgian philosopher and author

Where can we find the spirit of ’68 nowadays? This question makes philosopher and author Alicja Gescinska (1981) laugh scornfully. “Which 1968? The one in Paris? Or the one in Poland, where tens of thousands of Jews were forced to leave the country during a huge anti-Semitic campaign by the communist government? Or the one in Memphis, where Martin Luther King was killed?”

Gescinska, who fled from Poland with her parents in 1988 and grew up in Belgium, wants nothing to do with the glorifying stories about the revolutionary year in which people said everything was possible. All power to the imagination? “There are currently people in power who use their imagination very well. They imagine that you can solve a problem by simply building a wall, or that you can substitute facts for ‘alternative truths’. Realism and common sense – that is what the world needs.”

Is there nothing we can learn from ’68?
“It can teach us that citizens are not a powerless puppet on a string.Every citizen can make his voice heard and in that way make a difference – although this did not happen only in ‘68, of course. But it must go beyond just the realisation that citizens can initiate change. What if we see active citizenship not just as a possibility, but as a moral duty?”

“Some people say that democracy in Poland is already dead. Seriously? Citizens there take to the streets en masse.”

Have we forgotten our democratic duty?
“We never learned it properly. I think that many do not fully understand what democracy entails. With every election, you hear people complain that their voice is not being heard. But democracy does not mean that the masses must speak. The point is that we have responsibilities towards each other, to our fellow citizens, to nature. An active citizen is an involved citizen. It means you look beyond your own interests: engaged citizenship is not about what you want, but about what’s good for the community.”

How do we get there?
“I wish I knew the answer. It’s like asking how to make sure that someone cares about his fellow man. Phew. Often, people are primarily motivated by how something affects their own wallet. On the one hand, I think we should try to involve everyone, but on the other hand: the goal is not that every citizen is active, the goal is healthy coexistence. Take the mandatory waste sorting of recyclable materials. It doesn’t really matter that some people do not see the point of it, or that they do not like it – it’s more important that it happens.”

You can say that not everyone has to agree with important matters, but in recent years the ‘angry citizen’ has been calling out louder and louder.
 “Democracy is a system of constant collisions. If you want to prevent these collisions, you do not really want democracy anymore – you want a society of enlightened minds. Then you should appoint an enlightened supreme power to say what is ‘right’. That is a frightening idea.

“Of course, things can go wrong in a democracy, like when an undemocratic leader is elected. In Poland, democracy is under pressure, and some people even say that democracy is already dead there. Seriously? Citizens have taken to the streets en masse. There is a growing concern, people write about it – I do not see passivity in Poland. The fire in the citizens there is burning much harder than in the citizens of the Netherlands or Belgium.”

Нового Сахарова нет

7 July 2018

ДВА ПОКОЛЕНИЯ, ОДНА ИСТОРИЯ

В 1968 году Андрей Сахаров написал свое новаторское эссе против ядерного оружия и гонки вооружений времён Холодной Войны. Советская власть не отблагодарила за это уважаемого русского физика-ядерщика и отправила его позднее в ссылку на квартиру в Горьком. В подъезде того же дома проживает на тот момент и юная Любовь Потапова. Тогда она не решается заговорить со знаменитым диссидентом. В настоящее время она является директором музея-квартиры Сахарова. Посетителей музея теперь раз два и обчелся, в то время как эссе Сахарова остается актуальным и через 50 лет после публикации. «Ни один из мировых лидеров не обладает его качествами»,- считает Потапова.

Автор: Флорис Аккерман   Переводчик: Яна Смирнова

Нижний Новгород, 2018 г.

ВСЁ ЕЩЁ АКТУАЛЬНО

«Его статья всё ещё актуальна», – говорит Любовь Потапова. Она уходит и возвращается с ламинированной страницей голландской газеты «Het Parool» от 13 июля 1968 года. Она разворачивает ее на столе в квартире-музее Сахарова в Нижнем Новгороде, за четыреста километров к востоку от Москвы. Сразу бросается в глаза заголовок “К пригодному для жизни миру за 4 этапа”. Это вторая и последняя часть знаменитого эссе Андрея Сахарова, отца советской водородной бомбы. Первая его часть была опубликована неделей ранее в газете «Het Parool».

Директор Потапова ведет экскурсию по музею Сахарова в Нижнем Новгороде спустя полторы недели с момента послания российского президента Владимира Путина в начале марта этого года, в котором он хвалится новыми сверхзвуковыми ядерными ракетами. Музей расположен в четырехкомнатной квартире, куда Сахаров был поселен в 1980 году за свою непрекращающуюся критику cоветской власти.

Потапова,направляя меня по коридору, в конце которого висит портрет Сахарова, указывает на гостиную и спальню c коричневой мебелью с оранжевой обивкой и на семейные фотографии в шкафу, расставленные как в былые времена. Она замолкает в выставочном зале, посвященном истории жизни Сахарова, которая показана на основе газетных статей, документов, фотографий и рассказов из биографии Сахарова. Это не музей с сенсорными экранами и планшетами.

Кто сейчас читает его эссе “Размышления о прогрессе, мирном сосуществовании и интеллектуальной свободе”, не может не поразиться паралеллями с настоящим временем. Ученый-ядерщик еще пятьдесят лет тому назад указывал на опасность ядерного оружия. Он порицал военную агрессию, критиковал национализм, экстремизм, диктатуры, догматизм и расизм. Сахаров призывал к интеллектуальной свободе и не только резко критиковал отсутствие демократии в Советском Союзе, но проявления расизма в США. И, что немаловажно, он предлагал решение этих проблем в четыре этапа, среди прочего путем срастания социализма и капитализма как альтернативы полному уничтожению человечества.

В офисной части музея Потапова (56 лет) ставит на стол печенье, шоколад и чай. Она говорит обдуманно и тонко, в духе бывшего жильца этой квартиры. Она не жалеет времени для рассказа о жизни и идеях человека, с которым она никогда не обменялась и словом, но который кардинально повлиял на её жизнь.

Объект 1968

ДВА РЯДА КОЛЮЧЕЙ ПРОВОЛОКИ

В 1968 году Андрей Сахаров работает на Объекте – удаленном ядерном исследовательском центре среди полей и лесов, окруженном двумя рядами колючей проволоки. 10 июля 1968 года, после выхода своего эссе, он слушает радио. В своей автобиографии он пишет об этом так:

«10 июля […] я начал слушать вечерний выпуск BBC (или «Голоса  Америки», уже и не помню) и услышал упоминание своего имени. Сообщили, что 6 июля голландская газета напечатала статью члена-корреспондента  Академии Наук СССР А.Д. Сахарова […].»

Своё эссе Сахаров написал после осознания того, что для него, как представителя интеллигенции, наступил момент открыто высказаться по важным вопросам своего времени. Как отец советской водородной бомбы он чувствовал свою личную ответственность. Благодаря своей работе он знал тоталитарную советскую систему и видел опасность руководства, которое может действовать при отсутствии оппозиции. Ранее в том же году он услышал о «Пражской весне». Он чувствовал волнение, надежду и энтузиазм в отношении идей «социализма с человеческим лицом». В Советском Союзе в том году тоже произошло что-то примечательное. Сахаров назвал это своего рода мини-выпуском «Пражской весны». После того как были осуждены три диссидента в их защиту была собрана тысяча подписей. Беспрецедентно в период тогдашнего удушающего режима.

Эссе Сахарова явилось для Кремля шоком. Москве не были нужны опасные идеи советского ученого c высоким статусом, который видел сходство между Сталиным, победителем во Второй мировой войне, и Гитлером, и который не отвергал идеологического врага – капитализм. Два смертных греха. Власти запретили публикацию. Эссе закончило свои дни в самиздате (подпольных литературных изданиях) и распространилось в небольшой аудитории. Народ так ничего о нем и не узнал.

Но статья действительно нашла свой путь за границей и очутилась у голландского писателя Карела ван Хет Реве, который в то время был корреспондентом в Москве. Сахаров в своей автобиографии описывает это так: «[…] Я не знал, что несколько человек уже пытались передать рукопись за границу через корреспондента американской газеты «New York Times», но тот отказался от рукописи, так как боялся, что это будет фальсификацией или провокацией. После этого она была передана корреспонденту голландской газеты Карелу ван Хет Реве в середине июня Андреем Амальриком (диссидентом и писателем, ФА), кажется, в «Amsterdams Avondblad» (имеется в виду «Het Parool», ФА)».

Несмотря на отсутствие личного знакомства, Ван Хет Реве принес Сахарову всемирную славу. За границей внезапно слышат другой голос из закрытого советского блока. И не просто от кого-либо, а от отца советской водородной бомбы, с которым в Советском Союзе всегда обращались с большим уважением. После публикации в «The Parool» последовала публикация в «New York Times», а затем эту эстафету подхватил весь мир. «Я припоминаю, что, по данным Международной ассоциации издателей, общий объем моей статьи в 1968-1969 годах составлял восемнадцать миллионов. Я был на третьем месте после Мао Цзэдуна и Ленина и обгонял Жоржа Сименона и Агату Кристи», – не без гордости пишет Сахаров.

Горький, 1980 г.

МИЛИЦИОНЕР ОХРАНЯЕТ ВХОДНУЮ ДВЕРЬ

«Статья полностью изменила жизнь Сахарова», – рассказывает Потапова. Из ученого он превратился в гуманитарную, просвещенную совесть страны. Диссиденты в Советском Союзе обрели свой рупор. В 1975 году Сахаров получил Нобелевскую премию мира. Ему не разрешили покинуть страну для получения этой премии.

В 1979 году Сахаров в иностранных СМИ критикует Советский Союз за вторжение в Афганистан. Его заявления снова вызвали гнев советских лидеров, а Кремль в январе 1980 года отправляет его с женой на самолете в Горький. С билетом в один конец он отправляется в изгнание. Сахаров оказался в четырехкомнатной квартире в спальном районе города. Горький (названный в честь русского писателя Максима Горького и в 1991 году переименованный в Нижний Новгород) закрыт для иностранцев из-за наличия военной промышленности. Кремль не заинтересован в подглядывании, поэтому ни один журналист не имеет разрешения навещать Сахарова. У него нет телефона. Входную дверь охранял милиционер, а КГБ держала вахту на улице. Когда Сахаров покидал свою квартиру, он всегда находился под наблюдением агентов КГБ. За его машиной всегда следовали, часто даже на двух машинах, пытаясь его запугать. «Иногда они пытались напугать нас, создавая ситуацию, которая может закончиться катастрофой», – напишет Сахаров позже в своей автобиографии.

В подъезде дома, где жил Сахаров, подростком жила и Любовь Потапова. Она рассказывает, как за несколько дней до приезда Сахарова у многоквартирного дома  появились милицейские машины. Жильцы заподозрили, что должно произойти что-то особенное. После приезда новых жильцов все поняли, кто поселился в квартире на первом этаже. «Мы знали его в лицо. Андрей Дмитриевич был, конечно, известным физиком. Но мы не знали, почему он поселился в нашем доме.»

«От других людей, слушающих иностранные радиостанции, я услышала, почему Сахаров остался в Горьком, – продолжает директор музея Сахарова. «Но меня это не занимало. Мне было восемнадцать лет. Я училась на первом курсе и заводила новых друзей ». Она иногда встречала его у входа в квартиру, но они не обменивались ни словом. «Он понимал, что не должен с нами разговаривать. Иначе он подставил бы нас под удар. И мы знали, что нам самим тоже лучше не заговаривать с ним. Мы ничего не знали о его взглядах. Об этом мало что говорили. Вместе с другими студентами мы однажды спросили нашего преподавателя политэкономии, почему Сахаров находился в изгнании. Его ответ был: «Я не знаю и вам советую не знать».

Горький, 1980 г.

«ЗДРАВСТВУЙТЕ, С ВАМИ ГОВОРИТ ГОРБАЧЁВ»

Вечером 15 декабря 1986 года в дверь Сахарова позвонили. Двое рабочих в сопровождении офицера КГБ начали устанавливать белый телефон. «Завтра около десяти Вам позвонят», – сообщил при прощании кагэбэшник. На следующий день в три часа дня, когда Сахаров собирался за хлебом, телефон зазвонил.

«Здравствуйте, с Вами говорит Горбачёв».

«Добрый день», – сказал Сахаров.

«Вы получите возможность вернуться в Москву, – сказал Горбачев, – указ Президиума Верховного Совета будет отменен».

Два дня спустя Сахаров и его жена сели на поезд в столицу. Освобождение Сахарова вписывалось в картину наступления послаблений в Советском Союзе под руководством Михаила Горбачёва. В Москве Сахаров стал прилагать всяческие усилия по сокращению количества ракет в Европе. Он призывал к сокращению Советской армии и указывал на опасность ядерной энергии. В марте 1989 года он был избран депутатом Верховного Совета, но скончался 14 декабря того же года. Большое количество народа пришло отдать ему последнюю дань. Два года спустя в его бывшей квартире в Нижнем Новгороде открылся музей Сахарова.

Нижний Новгород, 2018 г.

«ЧТО ВАЖНЕЕ?»

«Годы после падения Советского Союза в 1991 году стали трудным временем», – вспоминает нынешний директор музея. «Я преподавала математику в школе, но зарплату мне не платили». С 1991 года Нижний Новгород больше не закрытый для иностранцев город. «Россия открылась. Стали писать обо всём. На книжном рынке появились всевозможные книги и журналы. Я все больше и больше узнавала историю Сахарова. Затем, в 1993 году я увидела вакансию в кассу музея и пришла сюда на работу. После этого я работала здесь гидом, исследовательским ассистентом, главным куратором, а с 2000 года – директором. В первые годы сюда приходило много посетителей. Даже его бывшие охранники приходили посмотреть, как жил Сахаров».

Экскурсионные автобусы музей Сахарова больше не ездят. В год он имеет только две тысячи посетителей. В школах детям ничего не рассказывают о нем. Память о Сахарове постепеннно стирается. «Россияне старше сорока лет, воспитанные в Советском Союзе, восхищаются его научной деятельностью, но считают его плохим политиком», – говорит Потапова. «Но его эссе по-прежнему имеет значение в свете нынешних отношений между Россией и Западом. Несмотря на то, что между тем и настоящим временем существуют различия», – подчеркивает она. «Существующие мировые лидеры могли бы многому научиться из решений Сахарова», – говорит Потапова, потому что он перешагнул национальные интересы и отстаивал прежде всего интересы человека. Потому что: «Что важнее? Человечество или ваша собственная страна? »- спрашивает она риторически. «Этот вопрос более уместен, чем когда-либо. К сожалению, политики не думают в духе Сахарова».

Ученый-ядерщик пятьдесят лет назад подчеркивал важность военного равновесия. Ни одна страна не должна превосходить другую. Иначе соблазн нападения станет слишком велик. Именно на эту тему Путин регулярно выражает недовольство в отношениях с Западом. Сахаров также придавал большое значение интеллектуальной свободе, которая позволяет народу контролировать и оценивать действия властьимущих и выдавать новые свежие идеи.

«Необходимо уметь свободно мыслить без давления», – подчеркивает Потапова. «Когда люди открыто говорят о проблемах, это приводит к их решениям. Тогда нет необходимости применять оружие. В России больше свободы личности, чем во времена Советского Союза, но полной свободы здесь нет. Посмотрите на убийство Бориса Немцова (политик и критик Путина, убитый в 2015 году, бывший губернатор Нижегородской области в 1990-х годах, ФА) ». Затем подавленно добавляет:«До сих пор неясно, кто был заказчиком. Политики высшего звена должны были бы следить за ходом расследования, а не молчать. Сахарову бы это всё не понравилось».

Потапова не видит нового Сахарова. «Никто не обладает таким мышлением. Он сразу мог видеть суть проблемы, там, где нам нужно сделать десять шагов. В России нет никого с таким видением. Ни один мировой лидер не обладает им. А нам нужен такой человек».

В музее, финансируемом местными властями, все сосредоточено на сохранении и распространении наследия Сахарова и его идей. Жемчужина  музея – белый телефон в гостиной – подлинник, который вызволил Сахарова из ссылки. Потапова чувствует свою связь с ученым-физиком. «Конечно, мне было бы очень интересно поговорить с Сахаровым. Но тогда это было невозможно. Вся эта система наблюдения, охранник у входа, который никого не пускал … Было ясно, что с ним нельзя разговаривать. Можно сожалеть, если ничего не сделал, хотя мог бы сделать. Но в той ситуации я не могла говорить с Сахаровым, поэтому я не могу сожалеть об этом».

Помимо интервью с Любовью Потаповой, эта статья основана на интервью с Мариной Шайхутдиновой, главным куратором музея Сахарова в Нижнем Новгороде и Сергеем Лукашевским, директором Сахаровского центра в Москве. Кроме того, я разговаривал с Дмитрием Сусловым, доцентом факультета экономики и международных отношений в Высшей школе экономики в Москве и программным директором дискуссионного клуба и аналитического центра Валдай. Материалы также взяты из автобиографии Андрея Сахарова: «Воспоминания».

Dumitru Tudor went on a ‘strike of silence’ in the University Square in Bucharest. He was sent to prison for four months and was forced to flee his country because of it.

31 May 2017

Dumitru Tudor (1948), Romania. Bucharest 17-20 June 1990

“I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. On 13 June 1990, I happened to be in Bucharest for work and passed by the University Square. I had been there before: since April, the square had been occupied by thousands of demonstrators who were unhappy with the new regime. That day was more turbulent than other days. I went to have a look, kind of like a tourist. The square had been barricaded by police vans. But then something strange happened: the police retreated, and a few minutes later there were explosions everywhere, as well as smoke, screams and people running.

“I was nearby the television station and saw protestors go in. Helicopters were circling above the building. The crowd was livid; I too raised my fist in the air. When things started to escalate, I left.

“The next day, there was footage of me in the news bulletin on state television. Me, with my fist raised in the air. Apparently, I had been filmed. And then they called me ‘an enemy of democracy’.

“At work, I was told to take a ‘voluntary vacation’. Not much later, they took me to the police station for questioning: my own co-workers had betrayed me. I knew: it’s over now, I am no longer free. I felt cheated and angry, but also afraid and alone. I had no choice; I had to do something.

“It was 17 June, a Sunday afternoon, when I grabbed a big piece of paper at home. In big letters, I wrote ‘Greva Tăcerii’ (‘Strike of Silence’), with thirteen demands under it such as a free press, the release of political prisoners and answers regarding the violent miners. I hung the paper from my neck with a rope and went to the University Square. I stood there in one place, sometimes for hours on end, or walked around a bit. I didn’t say anything. Passers-by gave different responses. Some ignored me, others yelled out: ‘Yes, that’s the way!’

“When President Iliescu was inaugurated, I was still standing in the square. There were thousands of people and lots of international press. I just kept standing there with the piece of paper hanging from my neck. It must have been that day that someone from the Secret Service noticed me.

“A little over a week later, I was arrested. I spent four months in prison. First in a cellar, with criminals, later in a prison where I went on a hunger-strike. They put me in isolation for it, with chains around my ankles.

“After I was released, the Secret Service kept track of me. When after a court case we heard I had to go back to prison, my wife and I fled the country with our three children.

“I definitely don’t have any regrets. Sure, the fact that my protest had so little impact, is a pity. But I would do it again in a heartbeat. It has kept its grip on me to this day, the bitterness, the betrayal.

Mineriadă

At the end of 1989, the Romanian people revolted against Nicolae Ceaușescu during the ‘Romanian Revolution’, after forty years of communist dictatorship. Not much would change: after Ceaușescu’s fall, Ion Iliescu took over. He had been a high-ranking official during Ceaușescu’s rule and was a member of the Communist Party. Many felt that the Communist line was simply being continued, which led to even more protests.

From 25 April 1990, students and other protestors occupied the University Square. When riots broke out in the square on 13 June and protestors broke into the television station, Iliescu ordered a bloody crackdown. Thousands of miners were driven into the city to beat down the protests during one of the so-called Mineriadă.

Alfonso Natella, together with other factory workers, held a wild strike at the Fiat plant in Turin. The protest was the beginning of the ‘Hot Autumn’ in Italy which occurred during a period rife with demonstrations and fights.

31 May 2017

Alfonso Natella (1945), Italy. Fiat Mirafiori, Turin, 29 May 1969.

“I migrated north together with just about everybody I knew. We had no choice. In the south, there was only poverty and unemployment, apart from your mother and the sea. I had picked pears, harvested peaches, lugged tomatoes. Heavy work of sometimes fourteen hours a day, but not enough to make a living.

“Fiat was like the promised land. The mythical, great Fiat. Everything would be different there.

“What a deception. We stood at the assembly line with hundreds of workers. Not people, but numbers. The work was even heavier than what I was used to. I stayed at my sister’s house, but many workers slept at the train station: people in Turin refused to let out a room to ‘Southerners’ like us. One day, I visited the internal nursing department: it looked like a field hospital! Wounded workers everywhere. Apparently, we were at war, but with whom?

“There were students at the gates, handing out flyers and saying we were being exploited – as if we hadn’t realised that yet. Although they were not my kind of people, I had decided to drop by their meeting. To my surprise, there were more people like me there: poor slobs from the South who were tired of being bossed around. We decided to organise a wild strike.

“On the day of the strike, I brought a big piece of cardboard on a whim, with the words ‘Potere Operaio’ on it (‘Workers’ power’). The guard held me back and wanted to take me to the chiefs. I pretended to cooperate, but suddenly pulled him by his tie and delivered a few punches. I felt he had no right to boss me around. There were cheers all around me.

“It was a spontaneous protest, but there definitely was an idea behind it: I wanted to make a statement because I was secretly afraid that nobody would participate in the strike. In front of everybody, I had risked my job for our struggle. In this way, I wanted to show that there are more important things than money: dignity.

“There were about eighty of us. It was actually quite simple: every assembly line had a button that could stop the conveyor-belt. We were able to shut down all the assembly lines. Nobody worked that day. For the time being, the tables had turned: we, the workers, had the power, the guards feared us.

“It was the beginning of the great labour conflict at Fiat. I myself was fired immediately. It was about higher wages and shorter hours, sure, but above all, we couldn’t accept that we were treated like the ‘lesser ones’. A worker is a human being too! The feeling that I was capable of crippling a nationalist capitalist myth has been dear to me my entire life.

Hot Autumn

During the ‘Hot Autumn’ of 1969, millions of workers went on strike in Italy. The brutal pace in the plants and the poor working and living conditions made them feel intimidated, humiliated and exploited by their superiors. The workers often did not involve the labour unions when they organised the strikes. Radical left-wing student groups frequently joined the workers to help them organise and set goals; they were hoping for a social revolution.

The ‘Hot Autumn’ began with strikes at Fiat Mirafiori in Turin in May 1969 and culminated in a big clash between protesters and the police in July. From the student-worker movement in Turin, the radical left-wing groups Potere Operaio and Lotta Continua (‘Continuous Struggle’) emerged. In the 1970s, the conflict intensified as the communist Brigate Rosse committed acts of left-wing terror.

Seven months after dissident Lagle Parek was released from the Gulag, she helped to organise a successful demonstration in Hirve Park.

5 February 2017

Lagle Parek (1941), Estonia, Tallinn, 23 August 1987

“On the last day of January 1987, I was released from the prison camp. We ate and drank for three days together with family and friends. Of course, I did not continue my dissident activities right away; after three years in prison, I had to understand what was going on first. I made plans with Tiit Madisson and Heike Ahone in Pärnu. We felt that the situation could not go on any longer.

“We organised a protest rally in Tallinn on 23 August. It was exactly 48 years since the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact was signed, the secret agreement between Hitler and Stalin whereby the Baltic States were basically handed over to Russia. We wanted to enforce the right to publish the text of the pact to show everyone how we had lost our freedom.

“We asked acquaintances at Radio Voice of Americ to announce the demonstration. It was supposed to start at noon, but at ten to twelve nobody was there yet. Then, at exactly twelve o’clock, the place suddenly started to fill up with people. Unbelievable! Between 2000 and 5000 people showed up; writers, academics but ordinary workers as well.

“It was an amazing feeling but surreal too. There were speeches, and we demanded the release of political prisoners. Independence was not mentioned at that point. It was too early for that. We were hopeful, of course, but we did not even dare to fantasise about that yet.

“Was it risky to organise such a rally? We did not think about that either, and that was very sensible. Something had to be done. It was a peaceful protest. The police did not know what to do with us; the policemen were just standing there. They had not expected something like this at all; they had not received instructions about how to handle the situation. At later demonstrations, it would go very differently.

“’Hirve Park’ resulted in a wave of protests; not all of them took an equally strong position, but something had changed in people’s minds. Now they knew that they could, no, had to express their opinions. People started to understand that they were important. It was the first political step.

“In that entire Soviet period, I never thought about quitting my dissident activities. Never! Why am I not broken? I do not know how that is possible either, interestingly enough. We were sent to Siberia in 1949, my sister, my grandmother and I, because my mother owned banned books. We arrived there, and whole families were crying. My grandmother – she was an actress – said: ‘We are not going to cry here!’”

Hirve Park Demonstration of 1987

Demonstrations to mark the signing of the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact were not just held in Estonia but in Latvia and Lithuania as well. In Estonia, the protest led to the creation of the Estonian Group for the Publication of the Secret Protocols of the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact (MRP-AEG). It was the first organisation that demanded immediate and unconditional independence. In addition, the Estonian Heritage Society was founded by Mart Laar. He became the first elected prime minister of independent Estonia.
Parek spent four years in the Gulag as a child. She became a dissident and was imprisoned in a Soviet camp for another three years in the eighties. After independence, she became the Minister of Internal Affairs in Laar’s cabinet. She converted to Catholicism and now lives in the Pirita Convent in Tallinn.