Post-Communist Civil Society in Comparative Perspective

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Marc Morjé Howard

Assistant Professor of Politics

University of California, Santa Cruz

282 Stevenson College

Santa Cruz, CA 95064

phone: (831) 459-2766

fax: (831) 459-3334

email: mhoward@cats.ucsc.edu

 

 

 

starting Fall 2001:

Assistant Professor of Government and Politics

University of Maryland, College Park

3140 Tydings Hall

College Park, MD 20742

mhoward@gvpt.umd.edu

 

 

 

 

DRAFT—PLEASE DO NOT CITE WITHOUT AUTHOR’S PERMISSION

 

 

Introduction

Civil society continues to thrive as an object of study in post-communist Europe, as in most other regions of the world.  Much of the literature on post-communist civil society, however, stresses its relative weakness, whether compared to other regions or to the high expectations of 1989-91.[1]  This emphasis on weakness is especially notable given that so many observers expected post-communist civil society to be unusually strong and vibrant only a decade ago.[2]  Indeed, although specialists of Latin America and Southern Europe were also beginning to take the concept seriously in the 1980s,[3] most scholars agree that the rapid emergence or resurgence of civil society as a major object of study in comparative politics resulted largely from developments surrounding the collapse of communism.

The finding that post-communist civil society is unusually weak leads to a host of important questions.  Yet before accepting this finding at face value, we should examine the extent to which it holds empirically.  In other words, is it actually correct to assert that post-communist civil society is particularly weak, either compared to the expectations of a decade ago, or compared to other regions of the world?  When compared to the idealistic hopes of 1989-91, it seems clear that the current political, economic, and social reality has not lived up to those expectations.  When compared to other regions, however, the conclusion that post-communist civil society is distinctively weak needs more specification in order to be convincing.

In this article, I consider the extent to which it is accurate to refer to post-communist civil society as being relatively weak.  I start by examining the variation within post-communist Europe, in the context of larger survey results that generally show a stark difference—or a “thick line”—between the Central European countries and the countries of the former Soviet Union.  I go on to introduce the results from the World Values Survey (WVS) on a battery of questions on organizational membership in nine different types of organizations, which show that—when focusing exclusively on post-communist countries—the “thick line” between Central Europe and the former Soviet Union does appear to apply, with some exceptions.  Then I turn to a wider cross-regional perspective, showing that—when compared to older democracies and post-authoritarian countries—post-communist countries have relatively lower levels of organizational membership.  This finding suggests that the variation within post-communist Europe should more accurately be viewed as a “dotted line,” rather than a “thick line,” since the post-communist countries on the whole still appear to form a coherent group when compared to other types of countries.

After presenting these empirical findings, I discuss their relevance in terms of the prospects for democracy and democratic stability in the region, addressing both positive and negative interpretations.  I argue that, while the weakness of civil society does not necessarily mean that post-communist democracy is necessarily in danger of collapse or breakdown, it does prevent the development of the “civic skills” that are important for supporting and consolidating a democratic system, and it also ensures that many post-communist citizens lack the institutional representation and “leverage” that could otherwise be provided by active voluntary organizations.

Finally, I speculate about the extent to which the empirical findings and trends might change in the future.  Although I argue that change is unlikely to occur rapidly or decisively, given the powerful and lasting legacy of the communist experience, as well as the relative failure of neo-liberal institutional “crafting,” I do discuss two possible mechanisms for change, and I suggest how these might occur or be encouraged to develop.  Generational change presents a very gradual means for replacing older people in society with their descendants, who will have had less exposure to the original communist institutions that shaped most living adults today.  Another mechanism for change can be facilitated by a more active role of the state in supporting and working with voluntary organizations, and by relating them to people’s personal life histories such that organizations become viewed as less alienating and imposing.  Overall, however, barring unforeseen improvements in the way new institutions and policies are implemented, I argue that we are unlikely to see dramatic changes in the pattern of non-participation throughout post-communist Europe.

 

 

Variation Within Post-Communist Europe

The scholarship on post-communist Europe has increasingly been coming to the conclusion that there are wide differences between the countries in the region.  Jacques Rupnik has even claimed that “the word ‘postcommunism’ has lost its relevance,” and he adds that “it is striking how vastly different the outcomes of the democratic transitions have been in Central and Eastern Europe.”[4]  In terms of empirical data, the most authoritative comparative studies have been conducted by the New Europe Barometer Surveys (NEBS), and they tend to confirm that there is wide variation among the countries of the post-communist region.[5]

A few examples may help to illustrate this variation.[6]  One of the key objects of study in the NEBS is the extent to which respondents support the current regime.  Figure 1 shows the levels of support for the current regime according to the 1998 NEBS, distinguishing between Central and East European (CEE) countries, on the left, and the countries of the former Soviet Union (FSU), on the right (in this case only Russia and Ukraine).  The figure shows clearly that the levels of support for the current regime are much higher in CEE than they are in the FSU, suggesting that the “thick line” separating the two groups of countries is well-supported empirically.  Indeed, the CEE mean of almost 56% support for the current regime is almost double the 29% support in the FSU countries.

 

[Figure 1 about here]

 

Another important question in the NEBS is the extent to which respondents reject three specific authoritarian alternatives.[7]  Figure 2 again distinguishes between CEE and FSU, while the latter group now includes available data from two of the Baltic countries.  The figure shows that nearly 66% of CEE respondents reject all three authoritarian alternatives, much higher than the FSU mean of 41%.  As for the particular countries, with the exception of Latvia, in which responses approach the CEE mean, it appears once again to support the delineation of a “thick line” dividing CEE from the FSU.

 

[Figure 2 about here]

 

Unfortunately the NEBS does not include any questions on membership in the organizations of civil society, thus ruling out a comparison of the levels of participation across the countries of post-communist Europe.  The NEBS questionnaire does, however, ask respondents to describe their levels of trust in 15 different civil and political institutions.[8]  The results, shown on Figure 3, demonstrate that the “thick line” dividing CEE and the FSU appears to apply to trust in civil society as well.  With the exception of Bulgaria, the countries of CEE have considerably lower levels of distrust in civil and political institutions, with a mean of 28%, than do those of the FSU, with a mean of 45%.

[Figure 3 about here]

 

The NEBS question on trust in civil society has its limitations, since it refers to the attitudes, rather than the actual behavior, of respondents.  In general, despite the proliferation of studies on civil society in countries and regions around the world, there is still a dearth of methodologically-comparable cross-regional comparative analysis on civil society.  The World Values Survey (WVS), however, is another large-scale comparative survey project that includes a wide range of countries, as well as a battery of questions on membership in voluntary organizations.  Moreover, the fact that the WVS was conducted in over 50 different societies in 1995-97 provide a remarkable, and still largely untapped, resource with which to compare levels of participation across countries and regions.

The question on membership in voluntary organizations in the WVS questionnaire asks respondents whether or not they are members of nine different types of groups:  1) church or religious organizations, 2) sports or recreational clubs, 3) educational, cultural, or artistic organizations, 4) labor unions, 5) political parties or movements, 6) environmental organizations, 7) professional associations, 8) charitable organizations, and 9) any other voluntary organization.  While this list is by no means comprehensive or exhaustive—and one could certainly argue that other types of organizations, such as women’s, student, veteran’s, animal rights, or many others, should have been included as well—it does capture a wide enough range of organizations, both traditional and contemporary, that are central to civil society so as to allow us to investigate the comparative levels of participation in them across countries.[9]

Figure 4 focuses on the 13 valid post-communist countries from the WVS survey,[10] and it presents the average number of organizational membership per person in each country, out of a total of nine possible memberships per person.  The figure follows the same basic pattern from Figures 1, 2, and 3, with a “thick line” separating citizens from the CEE countries—with an average of 1.09 organizational memberships per person—and those from the FSU—with an average of 0.61 memberships per person.  Just as in Figure 3, Bulgaria is the only exception, with an average level of organizational membership that is even lower than that of the countries of the FSU.  At this point in the analysis, therefore, the empirical results seem to confirm a clear differentiation between the countries within the post-communist region.

 

[Figure 4 about here]

 

 

 

 

How Does Post-Communist Europe Compare to Other Regions?

Although the literature that specifies the stark differences between the two groups of post-communist countries is convincing, it does not include non-post-communist countries and regions in its comparative analysis.  In this section, I introduce a wider cross-regional perspective with respect to organizational membership, showing the levels of membership in the 31 valid democratic and democratizing countries from the WVS, divided into three groups based on their prior regime type.

Before turning to the empirical results, I want to explain and justify these groupings, which are adapted from the work of Juan Linz.[11]  The starting point of Linz’s typology of regime types is the basic difference between democratic and non-democratic regimes, but the more interesting and important distinctions are among the non-democratic regime types, which can be classified as either “authoritarian,” “totalitarian,” “post-totalitarian,” or “sultanistic.”  Given that every country from the WVS that fits in either of the last three categories in the post-WWII period was also a member of the communist bloc, for the sake of clarity I reorganize the typology into “democratic,” “authoritarian,” and “communist” regime types.[12]  When discussing the current, democratic type period, I refer to a country’s prior regime type, and its lasting effect on present developments.  As a result, I divide the countries in this analysis into the following three groups:  1) Australia, Finland, Japan, Norway, Sweden, Switzerland, the United States, and Western Germany, which I classify as the “older democracies”; 2) Argentina, Bangladesh, Brazil, Chile, the Philippines, South Africa, South Korea, Spain, Uruguay, and Venezuela, which I label the “post-authoritarian” countries; and 3) Bulgaria, the Czech Republic, Eastern Germany, Estonia, Hungary, Latvia, Lithuania, Macedonia, Romania, Russia, Slovakia, Slovenia, and Ukraine, which constitute the “post-communist” category.

One of the defining features of Linz’s regime type distinction is the extent to which regimes allow and accommodate pluralism.  Whereas democratic regimes encourage and even support organizational activity among the population, and authoritarian regimes tolerate most forms of activity, provided they are not deemed threatening to the state or to the military, communist regimes not only sought to repress all forms of autonomous, non-state activity, but they supplanted and subverted such activity by forcing their citizens to join and participate in mandatory, state-controlled organizations.  The difference between authoritarian and communist regimes also has a lasting effect in the post-authoritarian and post-communist time period, as communist countries have “legacies to overcome that are not found in an authoritarian regime.”[13]  In the current time period, the expectation of this prior regime type argument is that the older democracies will have the highest levels of organizational activity, followed relatively closely by the post-authoritarian countries, and the post-communist countries will lag behind the other two groups considerably.

Figure 5 presents the average levels of organizational membership in each of the 31 valid countries from the 1995-97 WVS; the older democracies are grouped to the left, the post-authoritarian countries in the center, and the post-communist countries on the right, with the individual countries arranged in decreasing order of organizational membership within each prior regime type category.  The results show that, when compared to older democracies and post-authoritarian countries in this larger cross-regional perspective, post-communist countries have relatively and consistently lower levels of organizational membership.  The post-communist mean of 0.91 organizational memberships per person is exactly half of the post-authoritarian average of 1.82, and well under the older democracies mean of 2.39.  Moreover, even when controlling for a series of country-level and individual-level factors in a multiple regression analysis, the prior regime type variable is by far the most powerful and statistically significant factor.[14]

 

[Figure 5 about here]

 

The prior regime type differences shown on Figure 5 suggest a revision, or at least a refinement, of the “thick line” distinction between CEE and FSU countries that was well-supported by Figures 1-4.  In the wide cross-regional perspective of Figure 5, it appears that the “thick lines” really belong between the prior regime type groupings.  The division within the post-communist group, which seemed so striking from the perspective of Figure 4, while still real, now appears much attenuated in Figure 5.  Indeed, within this larger comparative perspective, it would be more accurate to describe the difference between CEE and FSU countries within the post-communist group as a “dotted line.”

Overall, the category of “post-communism,” far from having “lost its relevance,” seems to remain a crucial factor for explaining cross-regional variation in participation in the organizations of civil society, even when accounting for a host of other important factors.  In other words, there is something about the prior communist experience that, a decade since communism’s collapse, makes its citizens—from Sofia to Berlin, from Prague to Moscow—much less likely to join organizations than citizens of other countries with different prior regime type experiences.  The next task, of course, is to specify some of the key elements of that communist experience, and to show how and why they have such a lasting impact on an otherwise increasingly differentiated group of societies.

 

 

What Explains the Pattern of Weak Post-Communist Civil Society?

In this section, I argue that the similarly low levels of participation in the organizations of civil society in contemporary post-communist Europe can best be understood by taking into account the common elements of the communist experience, as well as the recent post-communist experience.  I briefly introduce three important factors that characterize the wide array of societies in post-communist Europe, and which together help to explain the lasting weakness of civil society in the region:  the legacy of mistrust of communist organizations, the persistence of friendship networks, and post-communist disappointment.[15]

One of the central features that distinguished communist from authoritarian regimes was the high level of repression of autonomous pluralism.  Unlike authoritarian regimes, which tolerated non-state activities as long as they did not threaten the existence of the state, not only did communist regimes attempt to eliminate any form of independent group activity, but they supplanted it with an intricately organized series of state-controlled organizations, in which participation was often mandatory or coerced.  As a result of an essentially negative experience with the state-run organizations during the communist period, large majorities of communist citizens throughout post-communist Europe have a common sense of mistrust of organizations that persists in the current time period.

A second reason that helps to explain the societal similarities within post-communist Europe has to do with the vibrant private networks that developed under communism.  As a result of the high politicization of the public sphere, many people could or would only express themselves openly within close circles of trusted friends and family.  Moreover, in a shortage economy, with few available goods to buy, connections played an essential role in communist societies, whether it was to acquire spare parts for fixing a car, or finding products that were rarely available in stores.  Today, a decade since the collapse of the system that had created and sustained this vibrant private sphere, networks of close friends and family remain extremely prominent and important throughout post-communist Europe.  The networks of instrumental connections, however, have changed to varying degrees across post-communist countries, since the market economy can eliminate the need to acquire goods and services through informal channels.  Overall, however, unlike in many Western societies—where voluntary organizations have become a central part of the social and political culture, and where people join organizations in order to meet new people and to expand their horizons through public activities—in post-communist societies, many people are still extremely invested in their own private circles, and they simply feel no need, much less desire, to join and participate in organizations when they feel that, socially, they already have everything that they could need or want.

The third reason that helps to explain the particularly low levels of public participation in post-communist Europe is the widespread disappointment, and for some even disillusionment, with political and economic developments since the collapse of the state-socialist system.  Although it is most pronounced among the activists who were personally involved in the movements leading to the creation of a new institutional order, this third factor applies to the wider population as well.  For most people throughout the former Soviet bloc, the years 1989-91 represent a unique, momentous, and fascinating time in their lives, when their world was changing rapidly and dramatically.  Although they had many fears and uncertainties about where the changes would lead them, most people experienced at least a brief moment of genuine excitement, hope, and idealism during those times of rapid transformation.  Moreover, they shared the belief that the end of Communist Party rule, the emergence of new democratic and market institutions, and at long last the freedom and right to speak freely, associate openly with others, and to travel beyond the “iron curtain,” would change their lives for the better.  In the years since those dramatic times, however, many post-communist citizens feel that they have been let down, even cheated, by the new system that quickly replaced the old one.  Even though a vast majority in every post-communist country does not want to go back in time, the political and economic systems that have since taken root seem to have disappointed most people who had believed and hoped that a new political and economic system would live up to their ideals.  This disappointment has only increased the demobilization and withdrawal from public activities in the years since the collapse of communism.

Although these three factors are not meant to be definitive, and they certainly do not apply to each country in the same way, they do suggest common historical reasons that can help to explain the common weakness of civil society in the otherwise institutionally diverse countries of post-communist Europe, especially when compared to the older democracies and the post-authoritarian countries.

 

 

What Does This Mean for Democracy in Post-Communist Europe?

The finding of low levels of participation in the organizations of civil society throughout post-communist Europe can lead to a host of different—and often emotionally-charged—interpretations about the prospects for democracy in the region.  On the one hand, a negative and pessimistic version emphasizes that the low level of engagement and participation by ordinary citizens is indicative of the hollow, procedural, and formalistic character of post-communist democracy.  According to this view, does democracy still mean “rule by the people” if the people choose not to participate in ruling?  More forebodingly, one could argue that such a hollow democracy will remain unstable, since civic organizations lack the active support of the population, leaving democracy at risk of being toppled by hostile forces, whether based on non-democratic historical traditions or a new, anti-democratic ideology.[16]

On the other hand, a more positive and optimistic interpretation would suggest that the absence of a vibrant civil society poses no obstacle to democracy and democratic stability.  Indeed, political participation and trust in government are supposedly in decline throughout much of the world, as people withdraw from public activities in increasingly large numbers.  Perhaps the post-communist present, having skipped or bypassed the “stage” of an active participatory democracy, actually resembles the democratic future in the rest of the world?[17]  Moreover, in terms of democratic stability, some argue that a strong and vibrant civil society can actually contribute to the breakdown of democracy, and in this sense—paradoxically—democracy in post-communist Europe may be enhanced by the absence of citizen participation in voluntary organizations.[18]

My own view of post-communist democracy differs from both the positive and negative scenarios.  Even if participation in voluntary organizations is declining in the older democracies,[19] this does not mean that levels of organizational membership around the world are converging.[20]  More importantly, in terms of the breakdown or survival of democracy, I do not view post-communist democracy as being doomed to collapse or fail, but nor do I believe that the weakness of civil society is a good sign for a healthy democracy.  In contrast, my basic, and less contentious, interpretation stresses the characterization of the weakness of civil society as constituting a distinctive element of post-communist democracy, a pattern that may well persist throughout the region for at least several decades.  The finding that post-communist civil society is distinctively weak does not necessarily indicate that post-communist democracy is less stable or more precarious, but it does point to a qualitatively different relationship between citizens and the state, one based on very little active engagement by ordinary people in voluntary organizations in the public sphere.

Does this mean that democracy cannot collapse, that the region is safe from authoritarian rule?  Certainly not.  As has already happened in Belarus, and could happen in Russia or elsewhere in the next decade, anti-democratic leaders and forces may well succeed in connecting with voters’ frustrations—particularly in the countries that experienced 70 years of Soviet rule, and where economic difficulties are most extreme today—and usher in a new authoritarian regime, even by democratic means.  Such a development would depend largely on the individual leaders, their personalities and ideologies, and their political strategies, rather than on their potential followers.[21]  While the behavior of the leaders is impossible to predict, the findings of this article suggest that any potential followers will be difficult to activate and engage.  Indeed, the reluctance of so many post-communist citizens to participate in voluntary organizations today means that anti-democratic organizations and movements, just like their democratic counterparts, will also have problems organizing and mobilizing, and their efforts will be hindered by the same legacy of mistrust of organizations.[22]  In other words, while post-communist democracy may remain relatively hollow or stagnant, with a disconnect between rulers and ruled, the overthrow of existing democratic regimes by movements with broad-based and active popular support seems very unlikely.

Although the weakness of civil society may not be a harbinger of democracy’s demise in post-communist Europe, it should certainly not be viewed in positive terms either.  Even with the historical precedent of Weimar Germany—where very high levels of organizational membership may have supported and facilitated the emergence of an anti-democratic Nazi regime[23]—it would be unreasonable to argue that the low levels of public participation are actually beneficial for democracy in post-communist Europe.

There are two important reasons why the weakness of civil society impinges on the quality of post-communist democracy, and these come from the very heart of the debates about the importance of civil society and its effect on democracy.  The first reason is derived from the arguments of Robert Putnam and other “social capitalists,” who demonstrate the ways in which voluntary organizations “instill in their members habits of cooperation and public-spiritedness, as well as the practical skills necessary to partake in public life.”[24]  By choosing not to join or participate in voluntary organizations, post-communist citizens have forsaken the opportunity to develop those democratic habits and skills.  Although this decision is completely understandable in the context of communist and post-communist experiences, the larger consequence is that the new democratic institutions are neither rooted in, nor actively supported by, the larger population.[25]

Most scholars would agree that citizen participation, involvement, and engagement are central and fundamental aspects of any democratic system.  In that sense, the post-communist situation stands in stark contrast to post-authoritarian countries, where groups and organizations—which often had already existed under authoritarian rule—have been able to play a leading role in the democratization of post-authoritarian citizens.  In post-communist countries, however—where people’s organizational experiences originated predominantly in the forced mobilization of the communist regime—the negative memory of mandatory participation leads most people to eschew organizational activity today.  Overall, while political institutions and elite commitments may be most crucial for sustaining the continued existence of democracy, the passivity of post-communist citizens, and their alienation and removal from the democratic process, can only be a troubling sign for post-communist democracy.

The second reason why civil society is important for democracy has to do with the direct influence of voluntary organizations to serve as what Theda Skocpol calls “a source of considerable popular leverage” to influence the political process.[26]  According to this historical institutional argument, the organizations of civil society, which represent the aggregate opinions, interests, and preferences of their members, can protect citizens from potentially unjust laws and policies, as well as exert a positive influence on legislation that concerns them.  In the post-communist context, the low levels of organizational membership considerably reduce the political leverage and influence of voluntary organizations.  As a result, not only are post-communist citizens bereft of the opportunities for developing greater “civic skills” through participation in organizations, but their voices and views are hardly represented in the political decision-making process.

In short, negative and positive interpretations of the relative weakness of post-communist civil society and its impact on democracy in post-communist Europe are both overstated.  Although often exciting and sometimes dramatic, post-communist democracy is neither thriving nor on the verge of collapse.  Instead, it is likely to continue to “muddle through,” with elites and institutions that vary widely in their style and performance, but a citizenry that remains disengaged from the public sphere.  The distinguishing element of post-communist democracy is—and probably will be for several more decades and generations—the troubling, but not fatal, characteristic of its weak civil society.

 

 

How Might This Pattern Change Over Time?

What should we expect to find in 10 years time?  Will levels of membership and participation gradually increase, at least in some countries, and if so, how?  Any attempt to answer these questions is purely speculative, a risky venture for any social scientist, but especially within the field of “post-Sovietology,” given the extent to which the debates in Sovietology centered on the problems, and failures, of prediction.[27]  Nonetheless, the findings of this article warrant some cautious speculation about the conditions for, and the possibility and likelihood of, change in the patterns of non-participation in the organizations of civil society.

For the countries with the very lowest levels of participation—such as Bulgaria, Lithuania, Russia, and Ukraine—which generally have weak and unsupportive states and unstable economies, it is very unlikely that participation in voluntary organizations will increase significantly.  In this sense, barring any miraculous turnarounds, these structural impediments will serve to keep organizational membership very low, and the specifically post-communist factors that I have identified will not change substantially either.

For those countries on the higher end of the post-communist spectrum of participation in voluntary organizations—such as Hungary, the Czech Republic, Eastern Germany, Slovakia, and Romania—however, it is quite possible, and in some cases even quite likely, that the state and economy will become stronger over the next decade.  The question remains:  Will this lead to an increase in organizational membership and participation?  If so, will participation increase to the extent that these countries will eventually start to resemble countries in the post-authoritarian and older democracies country-groupings, rather than remaining close to other post-communist countries?  In my view, although perhaps it could happen in one isolated country, such a development is unlikely to occur, unless there are drastic improvements in the way in which domestic states and foreign funders approach post-communist citizens and their prior experiences living in communist regimes.

The phenomenon of non-participation that has emerged in the post-communist period is not accidental or temporary.  Rather, it represents the continuation of a pattern of social relations and behavior that developed over several decades, under the very distinct conditions of the communist system.  Ironically, in a very different institutional environment, in many ways this pattern seems to have been reinforced in the post-communist time period.  In short, while the pattern of non-participation could certainly change over time, leading to a resurgence in participation and a lasting change in societal social patterns, it is doubtful that this change will be rapid, or that it will happen in the near future.

 

Despite this bleak assessment about the persisting weakness of post-communist civil society, it is worth considering how, if at all, an increase in organizational membership and participation could come about in the future, and in particular how states and international organizations might be able to contribute to it.  Although there are certainly no miraculous formulas or quick solutions, broadly speaking, there are two general ways in which such a trend could develop.

The first and most obvious potential mechanism of change is through generational change, as new generations of post-communist citizens come of age who were less influenced by the experience of life in a communist system.  As originally articulated by Karl Mannheim, the logic of the generational argument is that a coherent group of people, roughly aged between 17 and 25, can be shaped not only by their common age or geography, but by “significant social events” such as war or economic depression.[28]  In the post-communist context, the expectation of generational change presupposes, as Piotr Sztompka argues, that “As long as the majority of the population consists of the people whose young, formative years, and therefore crucial socializing experiences fall under the rule of the communist regime—one can expect the continuing vitality of the bloc culture.”  However, he adds that this will change over time, as “new demographic cohorts replace the older generations at the central positions in a society.”[29]  In terms of membership in organizations, the expectation therefore is that those people who dislike and avoid voluntary organizations will eventually die out, replaced by a younger generation that might be more sympathetic to such activities.

On the one hand, the expectation that generational change will bring about a steady increase in organizational membership is certainly plausible—although not particularly encouraging, since even in the best conditions, it will take many decades for such generational replacement to run its course—and it fits with the argument of this article about the importance of the communist experience in explaining the low levels of post-communist organizational membership.  On the other hand, however, such a development may be more painstaking than it is automatic, and it is difficult to predict whether or not generational change will contribute to an increase in participation in civil society over the long run.  After all, a major element of socialization comes not only from the current institutional setting, but also from one’s parents, teachers, and peers, all of whom can contribute to reproducing a continuation of the same patterns of orientations and behavior, even if the original institutional environment is long gone.[30]

If the process of societal change may take generations, not years, a logical object of study would be today’s youth, or the youngest adult generation, which had the least exposure to communism, and should therefore be less marked by its experience than older generations.[31]  At the same time, however, one should be careful not to place too much importance on this youth generation, for three main reasons.  First, since young people in all societies tend to be unsettled and changing, the establishment of certain patterns today does not necessarily mean that differences between them and other generations will last as the youth grow older.  Second, young people are notoriously disinterested in politics, and it is generally in a period of “late-youth” that political interest, preferences, and patterns of behavior become more fully developed.  Third, and perhaps most importantly in the context of this article, although the youngest adult generation today did not experience the communist system as adults, they did have a great deal of exposure to it through the communist youth organizations, which began recruitment when children first entered elementary school.  Since these children were still actively socialized in a communist system, it would be inaccurate to say that they constitute a genuinely post-communist generation—a label that would apply only to those who were too young to join the youth organizations at the time of the collapse of communism.

In short, it is still far too early to make firm predictions about changes in aggregate levels of participation based on this youth generation.  Many more studies should be conducted across different countries over the next decades, particularly as the first genuinely post-communist generation reaches adulthood, in order to measure and test generational change.  Until then, we are likely to see a continuation of existing post-communist patterns, in terms of the low levels of organizational membership, as well as the common reasons and causes that best explain it.  Over the long run, however, generational change remains one of the main prospects for gradually achieving lasting societal change in the region.

The second mechanism by which post-communist citizens could conceivably become more active participants in civil society is both more difficult and more heartening—the latter because it allows for the possibility of new policies influencing current and future developments in a positive way.  The most fundamental requirement for post-communist citizens to change their participatory habits involves acquiring familiarity, comfort, and a new positive association with voluntary organizations.  But this cannot occur easily or automatically, even with the passing of time, given the daunting obstacles to participation described above.  Many of the existing organizations, which have been steadily increasing in numbers since the collapse of communism, have been created by western organizations.  Most are to varying degrees dependent upon western funds and conditions.  As a result, much of the organizational initiative comes from “above,” namely from outside or foreign sources with little understanding of communism and post-communism.  It should come as no surprise, therefore, that in trying to convince people to join, many appeals come across as empty or unfamiliar at best, or foolish and misguided at worst.  Moreover, the realities of fund-raising in conditions of economic uncertainty are such that the local leaders and activists in organizations are often more beholden to their funders than to the people they are trying to engage and inspire.[32]

Perhaps even more importantly, many of the new organizations that are supported by western sources contain an underlying anti-communist theme, one that implies that the way people lived under communism was wrong, unethical, or unsuitable for a democratic and capitalist society.  Such a message might seem to be justified by the finding that the persistence of communist-era private networks serves as a disincentive for joining public organizations—in other words, since they are an impediment, perhaps they should simply be wiped away.  However, while the denunciation of the communist system may be necessary for convincing people to start anew, and to change their outlooks and social patterns, the explicit or implicit condemnation of people’s lifestyles and personal histories has the opposite effect, leading to even more misunderstanding, resignation, and disengagement.  Unfortunately, the message of many organizations does not make the distinction between evaluating the communist system and criticizing people’s own lives.  Until that distinction becomes clear, and until the leaders of organizations learn to value and appreciate what so many post-communist citizens view as the positive aspects of life in a communist system, as well as their personal resourcefulness and ingenuity, attempts to mobilize people to participate in voluntary organizations will continue to backfire, or at least to fall on dead or skeptical ears.

 

 

Conclusion

This discussion begs the crucial, yet frustrating, question of what can be done to help encourage more post-communist citizens to take part in public organizational activities.  While it represents a daunting task that is unlikely to produce rapid changes, there are some steps that can be taken.  One obvious precondition is the importance of improving economic conditions, and particularly in those countries in which many citizens have been facing near-catastrophic economic obstacles.  This applies not simply to the development of a wealthy business elite or to an aggregate measure of national productivity or growth, but especially to the actual standards of living of most ordinary people, so that they might have the economic means to be able to devote some time and energy to voluntary organizations, and possibly to contribute a donation or membership fee that could pay off for them in the longer run.

In addition to broad improvements in the overall economy, a second step for strengthening post-communist civil society involves a reappraisal of the role of the state and its relation to the organizations of civil society.  Indeed, contrary to the simplistic views of many conservative commentators or politicians,[33] a convincing body of research that incorporates a larger historical and comparative perspective has demonstrated that the state has played a crucial role in enabling, facilitating, and encouraging the existence and flourishing of voluntary organizations.[34] Although obviously it cannot force its citizens to join organizations, the state can, among other things, pass legislation that protects the rights of organizations, as well as to provide tax or other institutional incentives that encourage them to organize and recruit members.

By no means, therefore, would I suggest that since many attempts at strengthening civil society have not worked, these efforts should be stopped, and the funds should be cut.  On the contrary, both domestic governments and international donors should intensify their efforts to strengthen local groups and organizations, but they need to refocus their energies in a way that would encourage and reward groups for expanding their activities, membership, and constituencies, rather than simply providing a well-written mission statement and a nicely-designed internet site.  Such a strategy would certainly require more complicated (and costly) techniques for evaluating organizations and how they make use of their funds, but the payoff in terms of stronger connections with local populations—both improving people’s relationships with organizations and representing their interests socially or politically—would be well worth the investment.

For this type of change to take place, it is critical for analysts and policymakers alike to recognize that it cannot happen without the active and supportive role of the state.  The state is neither the opponent nor the antithesis of civil society, but rather its cooperative partner.  In the current political climate in post-communist Europe, however, a neo-liberal dogmatism continues to predominate, in which the dominant assumption is that the “crafting” of new institutions based on foreign models will suffice to change long-lasting societal patterns.  Even in Eastern Germany, where East Germans live as citizens of one of the most supportive states and vibrant economies in Europe and the world, the approach to institutional change has been one of imposition by outside (i.e. West German) “experts” on East German society, without the intermediary of local organizations who could have helped to influence those changes by making them come across as less alien and distasteful for most citizens.[35]  Overall, until there is more consideration of the specific personal and historical experiences of post-communist citizens, and how these experiences have shaped their approach to society and politics today, institutional and policy changes will have only marginal effects on people’s social patterns, and they may actually serve to reinforce previous attitudes and habits developed during the communist era.  For these reasons, although change is certainly possible according to the two mechanisms I have outlined, the pattern of a weak post-communist civil society is likely to persist long into the future.