The intensity of anger and depth of divisions were among the most disturbing I’ve seen
Published by The Daily Mail (18th May, 2024)
Out-of-touch and feuding politicians, soaring living costs and a lack of decent jobs – the gripes from voters were eerily familiar from reporting on elections in other democracies.
I have heard the same disgruntlement from Argentina to the United States, from Spain to Sweden- and across Britain, of course.
Yet the intensity of anger and depth of divisions in Slovakia were among the most disturbing I have witnessed – and they resulted in last year’s return to power of Robert Fico, the populist leader now fighting for his life after an assassination bid.
We do not know the motives yet for the shooting – though a ‘lone wolf’ appeared in court today charged with attempted murder.
Yet as the global spotlight falls on this small east European nation sitting between Austria and Ukraine, it has crucial lessons for other democracies.
First and foremost, this was another horribly violent attack on an elected politician – something we have seen in Britain with the sickening recent murders of two British MPs.
As Slovakia’s president Zuzana Čaputová said after the first assassination attempt of an European leader for more than two decades, the shooting was an individual act ‘but the tense atmosphere of hatred was our collective work.’
Political discourse has turned toxic with the country cleaved into two camps over Fico, the poison deliberately stirred by malign forces exploiting unfettered social media – but there are disturbing parallels across the West.
Consider how a country invaded by Moscow within my living memory re-elected a disgraced populist with ties to the Italian mafia, a man who supports a Russian despot guilty of unleashing hideous carnage on their neighbouring nation.
Fico may be an astute pragmatist – the polite phrase for shape-shifting populism that saw him slide around the political spectrum – but his restoration to power was remarkable after being forced ignominiously from office five years earlier.
He had looked finished – far more likely to end up behind bars than back in power after massive protests followed the killing of a reporter investigating corruption and Italian mafia links to his government.
Soon after the murder of the journalist and his girlfriend, Fico quit due to the public outrage. Yet he bounced back, defying efforts to tie him to the hit and reinventing himself as a hard-right populist.
Bear in mind this slippery character was a former Communist. As a young lawyer, he represented his nation at the European Court of Human Rights. Then he took power adopting the ‘Third Way’ centrist style of Tony Blair.
In his latest incarnation, Fico started regurgitating Vladimir Putin’s propaganda, vowing to stop supplying arms to Kyiv and end sanctions on Russia. One former defence minister labelled him a “Trojan horse” for the Kremlin.
He won by mimicking the illiberalism of Viktor Orban in Hungary, the brutal rhetoric of Donald Trump in the US and the divisive tactics behind the far-right’s rise in France, Germany, Italy, Spain and even the Socialist nirvana of Sweden.
These fissures were exposed last September by Igor Matovič, another former prime minister, getting embroiled in a fight with one of Fico’s closest allies after driving up to a campaign rally in a truck emblazoned with the slogan ‘we will not hand you over to the mafia’.
One man I met in Bratislava the next day vowed to leave the country if Fico returned. A woman walking her dog in the city’s Freedom Square told me she would not dare to have children if he won. ‘Everything he says is a lie,’ she said. ‘I fear things are going to turn bad.’
Others were simply incredulous – including a Russian who fled Putin’s regime to study in Slovakia. ‘Going to Europe was like a dream so I want this beautiful country to grow and open up like a flower.’
But for many – and not just in struggling post-Communist democracies – that precious ideal of blossoming democracy is wilting due to public despair over inept and self-serving politicians in a stormy era.
While in Slovakia, my notebook filled with fury from voters feeling betrayed by all their leaders. ‘They’re all d*ckheads who don’t care about the country,’ said a warehouse worker in Fico’s home-town. ‘They just want to throw dirt at each other,’ said a builder.
A poll found fewer than half the people still believed liberal democracy was good for their country. There were four prime ministers in four years after Fico. Only one in seven citizens trusted their government.
Matovic, an anti-graft campaigner, won power after Fico’s ousting by pledging to clean up politics – but his government dissolved into chaos and squabbling. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?
Fico capitalised on the frustration with his pose as a man of the people, by targeting minorities and with promises of economic turnaround backed by more welfare spending.
Then he shut down the anti-corruption agency, passed the sort of Russian-inspired law on NGO funding sparking giant protests in Georgia, sought to scrap the state broadcaster and branded his president an American agent.
Čaputová, the country’s most trusted politician and a strong supporter of Kyiv, was driven out of politics by death-threats and personal attacks. Her successor, elected last month, is a Fico ally who shares his stance on Ukraine.
Fico was aided in his return to power by disinformation and stirring of divisions from Russia, which saw Slovakia as a weak link in the EU and Nato.
Moscow funded locals who ran online sites spewing out its propaganda, with one contributor caught on camera being paid by a Russian official. A leading Russian news channel even set up a Slovak-language site from Crimea.
Yet again, we see the need to tackle digital anarchy in this dark age of emboldened dictatorships. Note how China’s Communist regime rolled out the red carpet last week for its autocratic pal Putin as his bullet-ridden Slovakian stooge was air-lifted to hospital.
Slovakia shows also the dangers when voters lose faith in political leaders and systems, growing despondent over constant tribal bickering and corruption while economies stagnate, public services decay and societies seem to be falling apart.
Some Slovakian voters told me they knew Fico was dodgy – but regarded him as the lesser evil in desperate hope he might restore competence, growth and stability.
Fico exploited electoral concerns over issues such as education, globalisation, governance and inequality shared by many more voters around the world.
Few countries can afford complacency over their democracies. Yet we seem inured to the deep cynicism contaminating politics and despondency of voters – and blasé about freedoms I have seen people around the planet risk lives and liberty to share.
Surveys show rampant disillusionment in many democracies. ‘Countries can fall apart but no one thinks it can happen here,’ one US professor of politics told me after their last election as a president denied the result to worsen their divisions.
A few months later, people in Bosnia told me they felt the same before Yugoslavia collapsed into civil war three decades ago. The following year, I heard the same words of disbelief from Ukrainians as their homes, lives and country were wrecked.
Last week’s shooting of the leader of a European nation was a terrible and tragic event. It serves in so many ways as a profound warning to the rest of the free world in this dangerous and divided era for democracies.