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TIME: Almanac 1990
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1990 Time Magazine Compact Almanac, The (1991)(Time).iso
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110689
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1990-09-22
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WORLD, Page 51The Three Holdouts Against ChangeBy John Borrell/Sofia
It seemed a small thing, hardly ground for arrest. For two
weeks a tiny group of Bulgarian environmentalists called
Ecoglasnost manned a table in a Sofia park to gather signatures on
a petition calling for public debate on two controversial
river-diversion schemes. They had collected nearly 7,000 names,
when police and militia units suddenly swooped down, scattered
bystanders and arrested seven of the organizers.
The members of Ecoglasnost were later released, but the
crackdown was a crude warning to Bulgarian political activists to
watch their step. It was one more indication of just how nervous
Eastern Europe's remaining hard-line regimes have become as a
result of the year's dramatic political changes elsewhere in the
bloc. The obdurate rulers in Czechoslovakia, Bulgaria and Rumania
refuse to imitate their reformist neighbors but can't help looking
anxiously over their shoulder. "They are all worried about the
fallout from change elsewhere," said a Western diplomat in the
region. A Bulgarian proverb captures the fears: "When the Gypsy's
bear is dancing in your neighbor's yard, you know it will soon come
to yours."
Although Sofia's police were frightened enough to rough up
Ecoglasnost, which has just 101 members, Bulgarians have no modern
model for revolt. That, ironically, might make gradual change
easier. Czechoslovakia has such a model -- 1968's Prague Spring --
and authorities there are taking no chances. Two weeks ago, they
arrested Jiri Ruml and Rudolf Zeman, well-known editors of the
underground opposition newspaper Lidove Noviny. More than 100
journalists, most of them government employees, have since signed
a petition calling for the release of the pair and for the
immediate legalization of the newspaper. Now the government is
hounding playwright Vaclav Havel, spokesman for the Charter 77
movement and the country's best-known dissident. Police called
Havel in for questioning last Thursday, then allowed him to go to
a city hospital when he complained of being ill. Their real purpose
was to prevent him from taking part in unofficial celebrations
Saturday to mark the 71st anniversary of the founding of the
Czechoslovak state.
Earlier in the week six independent opposition groups had
called for "quiet and solemn celebrations" throughout the country
on the anniversary. Officials, fearing that the unauthorized
gatherings could easily turn into giant antigovernment protests,
sought to block them. To make sure that shops were well stocked
during the week before the anniversary, authorities released onto
the market large supplies of normally unobtainable imported bananas
and oranges. "They continue to dangle these things in front of the
populace as an incentive for political acquiescence," said a
Western diplomat in Prague. "But it is clearly becoming harder and
harder for them to buy off people in this way."
That does not mean that any of the remaining hard-line
governments will necessarily be toppled anytime soon. Nor do they
show signs of making more than minor changes in their orthodox
programs. And there seems to be a flip side to Gorbachev's
repudiation of the Brezhnev Doctrine: it also means that Moscow
will not intervene to force reform. Intriguingly, though, some
Soviet officials are debating whether it might be wiser to give a
shove to the recalcitrant leadership in Czechoslovakia, where
popular pressure for change seems ripest.
Nothing short of death seems likely to budge Rumanian leader
Nicolae Ceausescu, who has maintained the most repressively
Stalinist line while tending a personality cult and pursuing a
Brobdingnagian building program. "Socialism," he told the ruling
party's Central Committee this week, "is non-negotiable."
Translation: Ceausescu's secret police will make sure that any
challenge to his leadership is quickly snuffed out.
Communists in Bulgaria and Czechoslovakia are taking a much
less rigid line. But in neither country are they prepared to
concede the party's leading role in society, let alone contemplate
legalized opposition groups. Their goal is to allow just enough
political protest to prevent explosions but not enough to allow
broad-based opposition groups to emerge.
It is a perilous high-wire act. Dissident groups like
Bulgaria's Ecoglasnost readily admit that part of their agenda is
to shake the party's hold on power. "Once you break this monopoly
in one area, it will start crumbling everywhere," says one of the
organizers, Deyan Kyurianov. But that is apparent to the bloc's
remaining hard-liners too. The Gypsy's bear may not be kept away
forever, but for the moment, he is dancing on a very short chain.