Slovakia’s Ill-Timed ‘Patriotism’
By Jeremy Druker for ISN
Earlier this month, the Slovak parliament, with little opposition, approved legislation proposed by the Slovak Nationalist Party (SNS) that mandates that every school play the Slovak national anthem at the beginning of the week and that each classroom display a prescribed set of state symbols.
Explaining his 19 March decision not to sign the Patriot Act into law to reporters, Gasparovic said schools had not had enough time to prepare for the law. That echoed comments made by Prime Minister Robert Fico, who said he had advised the president to veto the law for the same reason.
The president also drew attention to the poor choice of 1 April, April Fool's Day, as a starting date for the new legislation: “This date raises a smile upon people's faces, I don't think it is appropriate for such a law to enter into force on such a day.”
But hardly anyone believed those reasons, not given the widespread outrage sparked by the law. Apparently surprising the governing coalition, many Slovaks had responded over the past two weeks with petitions, online protests and even a march through Bratislava by students and teachers, singing the national anthem.
With parliamentary elections on the horizon in June, the politicians have “suddenly” realized the stress the law places on schools and have decided to postpone its enactment until the fall.
The question remains whether the overwhelming popular opposition will translate into the legislation being shelved for good. Both the prime minister and president have said, however, that they have no problem with the content of the law.
To some extent, one can understand their point of view. The law certainly demonstrates the foolishness of trying to force patriotism by legislative means, especially in a post-communist country where many people have a natural antipathy toward any obligatory devotion to the state.
Yet, despite the infamous xenophobia of its SNS authors and the obviously opportunistic appeal to nationalist voters, the law isn’t really extreme. Plenty of countries display national symbols in the classroom, and children won’t be required to sing the national anthem, just listen to it once a week.
But the timing is bad - as the pre-election fighting heats up in both Slovakia and Hungary, and amid the longer-term deterioration of relations between the two countries since the Fico-led coalition took power in 2006.
Last summer saw a spate of ugly incidents, which included unknown assailants throwing a Molotov cocktail at the Slovak Embassy in Budapest; two men forcing the car of the Slovak ambassador to Hungary off the road; and Slovak officials barring a planned visit of Hungarian President Laszlo Solyom to the largely ethnic Hungarian city of Komarno in southern Slovakia.
The passage of a controversial Slovak state language law that took affect in September also didn’t help. In places where an ethnic minority comprises than less 20 percent of the population, the use of a minority language in official communication can lead to steep fines.
In that context, a real statesman - someone of a much higher caliber than Gasparovic - might have reasoned that the Patriot Act might make members of the country’s large Hungarian minority nervous, especially with Slota’s inflammatory explanation of the bill as partly a response to supposed Hungarian irredentism.
“Our aim is that everyone, including national minorities, views the Slovak Republic as their homeland," Slota said, quoted by DPA. "If [Slovakia’s ethnic Hungarians] consider Hungary their homeland, that is the beginning of the end.”
It’s a longshot, but perhaps Gasparovic can come up with a better reason by the fall to reject the bill than a conflict with April Fool’s Day.
Explaining his 19 March decision not to sign the Patriot Act into law to reporters, Gasparovic said schools had not had enough time to prepare for the law. That echoed comments made by Prime Minister Robert Fico, who said he had advised the president to veto the law for the same reason.
The president also drew attention to the poor choice of 1 April, April Fool's Day, as a starting date for the new legislation: “This date raises a smile upon people's faces, I don't think it is appropriate for such a law to enter into force on such a day.”
But hardly anyone believed those reasons, not given the widespread outrage sparked by the law. Apparently surprising the governing coalition, many Slovaks had responded over the past two weeks with petitions, online protests and even a march through Bratislava by students and teachers, singing the national anthem.
With parliamentary elections on the horizon in June, the politicians have “suddenly” realized the stress the law places on schools and have decided to postpone its enactment until the fall.
The question remains whether the overwhelming popular opposition will translate into the legislation being shelved for good. Both the prime minister and president have said, however, that they have no problem with the content of the law.
To some extent, one can understand their point of view. The law certainly demonstrates the foolishness of trying to force patriotism by legislative means, especially in a post-communist country where many people have a natural antipathy toward any obligatory devotion to the state.
Yet, despite the infamous xenophobia of its SNS authors and the obviously opportunistic appeal to nationalist voters, the law isn’t really extreme. Plenty of countries display national symbols in the classroom, and children won’t be required to sing the national anthem, just listen to it once a week.
But the timing is bad - as the pre-election fighting heats up in both Slovakia and Hungary, and amid the longer-term deterioration of relations between the two countries since the Fico-led coalition took power in 2006.
Last summer saw a spate of ugly incidents, which included unknown assailants throwing a Molotov cocktail at the Slovak Embassy in Budapest; two men forcing the car of the Slovak ambassador to Hungary off the road; and Slovak officials barring a planned visit of Hungarian President Laszlo Solyom to the largely ethnic Hungarian city of Komarno in southern Slovakia.
The passage of a controversial Slovak state language law that took affect in September also didn’t help. In places where an ethnic minority comprises than less 20 percent of the population, the use of a minority language in official communication can lead to steep fines.
In that context, a real statesman - someone of a much higher caliber than Gasparovic - might have reasoned that the Patriot Act might make members of the country’s large Hungarian minority nervous, especially with Slota’s inflammatory explanation of the bill as partly a response to supposed Hungarian irredentism.
“Our aim is that everyone, including national minorities, views the Slovak Republic as their homeland," Slota said, quoted by DPA. "If [Slovakia’s ethnic Hungarians] consider Hungary their homeland, that is the beginning of the end.”
It’s a longshot, but perhaps Gasparovic can come up with a better reason by the fall to reject the bill than a conflict with April Fool’s Day.