Václav Havel at the Crossroads

“Hope is definitely not the same as optimism. It is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but the certainty that something makes sense, regardless of how it turns out.”

Václav Havel, Czech politician

It’s a simple question, and the interviewer Hana Gartner phrased it amicably. But the tension is palpable in Havel’s office in the palace that had been occupied by the communists only a few years prior. 

The year is 1992, and the Slovak Republic has just declared independence, leaving Václav Havel without a country to preside over. One can clearly sense the sadness in the president’s responses in regard to the process. 

—A last-minute agreement is still possible… But I can’t do any more to make that happen.

The interviewer, as we said, has posed a simple question, but one that has created tension in the room: 

—Having spent your whole life fighting against totalitarianism, isn’t it a bit ironic that two people unilaterally decide to divide the country, without hearing the voice of the people through a referendum?

Havel, as president of the Republic, had tried to get a referendum called: numerous polls indicated that the option to maintain the country unified would prevail. The Parliament, dominated by those in favor of the split (both Czechs and Slovaks), stifles his efforts. 

The leader of the Czech majority party doesn’t want the Slovaks, who they consider an economic burden; and the Slovak leader, a longtime communist, wants independence to create a socialist country or advance some other personal agenda. Both would rather agree on a partition than submit it to a referendum put forth by the president, where the outcome was uncertain. 

Havel, visibly upset and increasingly raising his voice, responds sharply: 

—I would not say it was two men that divided the country. (…) They did want to divide the country. (…). But I’m a democrat and if the people didn’t want independence, they had the means to prevent it. They voted in two parties whose platform supported partition.

Václav Havel was a perennial political outsider. He never got entangled with the various power struggles, which may be why he never achieved his goal of maintaining a unified country. But for that very reason, from day one he earned the social prestige of someone who advocates the most just cause. 

This is what happened in the Velvet Revolution, which he led peacefully against the communist regime. He was a playwright and a philosopher, with a clear, firm belief in what was just, and what truth he would be willing to give his life for. Imprisoned multiple times in the 1970s, his resistance won the respect of an entire nation. From that point on, he would be the moral voice of Czechoslovakia. He would also be its last president…

Accustomed to a game of good guys and bad guys, when he accepted the presidency by acclamation he stepped into a far more ambiguous domain, where right and wrong, truth and lies, were harder to identify. A domain that does not bring out the best in people, where selfish opportunism pushes values and righteousness aside. 

Perhaps this is why so few idealist philosophers run for office, where the ranks are filled by individuals with ideological and bureaucratic profiles. Havel was more accustomed to squaring off against the former: men and women with a strong conviction aimed at explaining unyielding social and personal mechanisms that revolved around social conformity and their way of thinking, creating discord for those who oppose them, manipulating reality, etc.

Taking aim at such ideology in any form, he would write his most reowned book: The Power of the Powerless. The book sheds light on the honorable philosopher, steadfast in his fight against lies, against the ideologues’ attempts to shape reality.

However, it would be the latter profile, the bureaucrat, who would ultimately defeat him in the most painful battle of them all: unifying his country. The man so adored by his compatriots was rejected by the political officers, who saw their jobs and privileges in jeopardy. 

Having made it past the moment of tension, the interviewer decides to be bold and ask what everyone was dying to know in 1992: 

—Considering that you failed, why don’t you retire? Why don’t you go back to your field, your writing and lectures? 

It’s an honest question. Havel himself had expressed on more than one occasion how tired he was with certain aspects of politics; particularly the sense of not making progress, not finishing anything that gets started.

But Havel, feeling calm and collected, looks into the camera with a relaxed, affable gaze and responds. 

—My work is not done yet. To leave now would be quitting. No one is forcing me, just like no one forced me to write what got me jailed for four years. I did it out of a responsibility to my country; and that same responsibility is why I will run again, as long as I feel I can help my country.

And so he did. In 1992, Václav Havel would go down in history as the last president of Czechoslovakia—and the first of the Czech Republic. He would continue serving his country the best way he knew how at all times, until his passing in 2011. A hero to some, indeed. To all, he was a man who saw politics and serving an entire country as the perfect opportunity to develop his ideas, and defend truth against lies; to combat exclusive ideology; and always respect the will of citizens at the polls, even if it was not his will—especially when it was not his will. 

In sum, we can say that he became a towering moral authority with his efforts to combat communism and his respect for democracy when he reached power. 

In just a few short words, what can we learn from all of this about the life of Havel?

• Charisma does not always go hand in hand with a great leader. An unwavering sense of mission and humility. 
• A love of liberty and well-being for one’s people, above any personal endeavor, is another distinguishing trait of a magnanimous leader— and of the leaders that society demands.
• Reality is the only true foundation for legitimate work. Realism is not resignation; it is the true starting point for any change, even the most ambitious revolutions.
• The admiration of a people does not die with failed personal ventures, but as a result of betraying the most noble ideals.