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From the ArchivesThe Red Elvis in Havana
When I first moved to Prague nearly two decades ago, Czech friends were
often amazed that I had never heard of the American singer, Dean Reed.
Dubbed the “Red Elvis”, Reed was a household name throughout the
Eastern Bloc.
More
Current AffairsPrague & Lima mark 90 years of diplomatic relations with donation of historic tank
Prague and Lima have been marking the 90th anniversary of diplomatic
relations this week through a number of events, including a ceremony in
Lima preceding the return of an historic Czechoslovak-built tank to the
Czech Republic. The LTP 38, as it is known, was built for Peru in the
1930s, designed specifically for high terrain. Originally, there were 24 of
the armoured fighting vehicles. More
Czech HistoryCommunism only postponed Czechoslovakia’s end, historian Jan Rychlík says in his new book
Czechs and Slovaks spent most of the 20th century in one country,
Czechoslovakia. Ever since its foundation, however, each nation had a
different idea of how the country should work, and what their role in it
should be. In his new book entitled Czechs and Slovaks in the 20th Century:
Cooperation and Conflicts, historian Jan Rychlík argues that
Czechoslovakia was in fact bound to fail as a state, and that communism
only postponed its inevitable end. More
From the ArchivesThe Cold War on the streets of Belfast
In the 1970s the Cold War was fought on many fronts. One of them was
Northern Ireland, where the tension and violence that raged throughout the
decade also became part of the propaganda war between East and West. At the
time, Czechoslovak Radio’s correspondent in London was Karel Kvapil, who
had entered the radio after the wave of sackings following the 1968
Soviet-led invasion, and later went on to become its last communist era
general director. In 1977 Kvapil travelled to Belfast, to report on the
Troubles. For part of his programme he spoke with women on a housing estate
in a mainly Catholic area of the city: More
SpecialJerri Zbiral: finding a new path to Lidice
Anniversaries give us the chance to think again about the meaning of events
and their relevance today. Next month it will be exactly 70 years since the
destruction by the Nazis of the Czech village of Lidice in June 1942. The
facts and figures are well known, and even in the shadow of huge numbers
later killed in the Holocaust, still remain shocking: 340 people were
murdered, including 88 children and all but two of the men of the village.
They were killed systematically and in cold blood in a calculated attempt
by the SS to prevent Czech insurgency. The extent to which Lidice later
became a tool of communist propaganda, using rhetoric that equated Nazi
Germany with the “West”, is also well known, and for many Czechs, the
memory of Lidice still remains tainted by this legacy. So what can Lidice
mean to us today, now that all but a handful of the survivors are no longer
with us and with memories of both Nazism and Communism fading? David
Vaughan brings us a special programme. More
From the Archives1969: Radio Prague goes back to the bad old days
In the course of 1969 and 1970 Czechoslovak Radio was transformed back into
what it had been in the 1950s, a tool of hard line propaganda. In the
process, over 700 radio staff were forced to leave their jobs. Those who
stayed found their freedom of expression severely curtailed. To give an
idea of the extent to which things had changed by August 1969 - the first
anniversary of the Soviet led invasion – I will start with a short
extract from Radio Prague’s broadcasts back in 1968, as the tanks rolled
into the city. At the time the radio was playing a crucial role in keeping
the world informed of what was really happening – including reports of
violent incidents as the invading troops opened fire on civilians: More
From the ArchivesAfter Palach: fears and hopes
In last week’s From the Archives we followed the tragic last days of the
student Jan Palach, who on January 16 1969 set himself alight in protest
against growing apathy in the face of the Soviet invasion five months
earlier. The whole country was in shock. Such a drastic and violent
sacrifice had little precedent in modern Czech and Slovak history, and
perhaps for just that reason Palach immediately became a symbol of the
country’s lost liberty and a rallying cry for those who still hoped to
save something of the reforms of 1968. Those in power had to be cautious;
they were well aware that Palach’s legacy could be explosive. More
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