A neo-nazi party that makes the National Front look civilised
It’s one thing having to rub shoulders with far-right populists, said Radovan Geist on Euractiv.com (Bratislava). But how do you cope with ardent neoNazis? That is the problem facing democratic politicians in Slovakia. They’re desperate to see the back of Marian Kotleba and his People’s Party Our Slovakia – an outfit so toxic it makes France’s National Front look civilised by comparison. The party glorifies the wartime leader Jozef Tiso, whose Nazi puppet regime sent more than 70,000 Jews to German death camps, and who was hung as a war criminal. Kotleba caused consternation in 2013 by getting himself elected as a regional governor, but worse was to follow. In elections last year, his party won 8% of the vote and 14 seats in parliament, and recent polls put them in third place at 11%. Now the general prosecutor has appealed to the country’s Supreme Court to ban the party, on the grounds that its behaviour is unconstitutional.
It’s a drastic step, but the government should have acted sooner, said Márius Kopcsay in SME (Bratislava). A party like Kotleba’s “has no place in any civilised country”. Its supporters are skinheads who wear Nazi regalia and shout “sieg heil” at rallies; until elected governor, Kotleba used to strut around in a black uniform. He and his crew deny the Holocaust, “cynically mock its victims”, and fuel hatred of other religions and ethnic groups;
for instance, by proposing semi-official vigilante patrols be set up in Roma areas. A ban may be legally justified, but that doesn’t mean it will work, said Peter Morvay in Denník N (Bratislava). Kotleba has faced bans before: a party he founded previously, Slovak Togetherness, was dissolved in 2006, but he simply came up with a new one. As long as he fills a need, he’ll do well. His supporters, many of them first-time voters in depressed areas, yearn for “strongman” rule. And they can’t just be wished away by decree. Bavaria outlawed Hitler’s Nazis in the 1920s – that didn’t stop them gaining power.
The Slovak political scene is a “shabby mess” of corrupt politicians who’ve lost voters’ trust, said Martin Ehl on Transitions Online (Prague). Fortunately, it also has a rich history of civic activism. In the 1990s, Slovakia was dominated by the threetime prime minister Vladimír Meciar, an autocrat with links to organised crime, who clearly hoped to make himself dictator. But he was eventually seen off, largely thanks to initiatives by ordinary Slovaks who raised cash and organised rallies. That’s happening again. Activists have been engaging with Kotleba’s supporters to try to dissuade them: in April, thousands took part in an anti-fascist protest in Bratislava, organised by two 18-year-olds. Will any of this stem the neo-nazi tide? We’ll only know after the regional elections in November.