It’s always a useful gut-check to hear the quiet part out loud. During a recent panel discussion on the upcoming Slovak elections, organized by a globalist Polish think tank and attended by numerous European journalists and economists, panelists expressed contempt for Slovak voters’ apparent frustration with support for the war in Ukraine and economic privations at home.
“It will be difficult, but they can be led there,” said one panelist. “They need to see why their views are incorrect.”
In an earlier session, when pushed on the panel’s evasion of economic issues in favor of hot-button talking points of Russia, Hungary, and democratic decline, another panelist opined, “The economic issues won’t actually affect the way people vote.” (This is patently false.) “And, besides, the inflation is even worse in Poland and Hungary.”
It was a fitting setting for such sentiments. Slovakia offers perhaps the ideal vantage point for the issue of how the West defines democracy in the 21st century. For the better part of a year, the country has featured unelected ‘technocratic’ governments. Furthermore, it sits between Poland and Hungary, which Western media frequently brand with labels of ‘autocracy’ and ‘democratic backsliding,’ despite their governments’ free elections and reelections.
When Slovaks go to the polls on September 30, they will assert their will over the country’s governance for the first time since former Prime Minister Eduard Heger resigned after a vote of no-confidence in December of last year. In May, President Zuzana Čaputová appointed a caretaker cabinet of technocrats, rather than call early elections. She hoped the passage of time would benefit sympathetic forces in the parliament.
The concept is not without precedent in the region. Czechia has employed caretaker governments on multiple occasions. Hungarian Prime Minister Ferenc Gyurcsány resigned in Spring 2009, after years of scandal and economic hardship, and Gordon Bajnai led a similar technocratic government until the country’s elections a year later. Bajnai’s government at least secured the backing of parliament—something the current Slovak government couldn’t manage.
Western media have not objected to the long period of unelected governance. Technocracy, after all, signifies adherence to the will of the administrative elite.
Some Slovaks, citing the country’s fractious political environment, initially celebrated a caretaker government of nonpartisan intellectuals. But in practice, the government has been mostly inept.
Recently, the parliament has failed even to vote on the government’s proposals. MPs are primarily interested in the election campaign—thus, securing the support of the citizenry—and not the priorities of a lame-duck cabinet. Even acute topics, like reforms to the nation’s network of children’s hospitals and procedures for handling migrants on their way to Germany, have failed to garner action. President Čaputová and caretaker Prime Minister Ľudovít Ódor have expressed public frustration.
“This summer we received a valuable lesson in the basics of the functioning of parliamentary democracy in practice,” writes Eva Čobejová in Denník Postoj. “We can see why those despised political parties are important when important things need to be pushed through.”
She adds, “We can clearly see what are the possibilities of an official government appointed by the head of state. It doesn’t really matter if its ministers are smart, intelligent, or technocratically skilled.”
Slovakia is burdened on economic, social, and foreign-policy fronts. Inflation and energy pressures coincide with a renewed European migration crisis and a war in neighboring Ukraine. The circumstances demand steady leadership, ideally with support from the populace.
President Čaputová declared that “the ambition of the new cabinet should not be to solve cultural and ethical issues.” But even on pressing economic matters (Prime Minister Ódor is a celebrated economist), Slovaks have sensed little relief.
Slovakia’s inflation is more than twice the euro zone average, and 2023 is set to represent a second straight year in double-digits. Slovaks are sensitive to GDP, adjusted for purchasing power parity, falling behind those of their V4 neighbors and even EU newcomer Romania.
Polls suggest that a plurality of Slovaks will support controversial three-time Prime Minister Robert Fico, a development that has awakened Western journalists and EU bureaucrats from their slumber. Foreign Policy warns that Fico is “anti-Europe, pro-Russia.” The Guardian proclaims, “Slovakia could soon become Russia’s newest ally,” and laments “faith in liberal democracy has been eroded … in the heart of Europe.”
Even if Fico fails to build a governing coalition—a legitimate possibility—Brussels is unlikely to approve entirely of the new government in Bratislava.
“[T]his is how parliamentary democracy works,” reminds Čobejová. “It upholds the will of the people, not the enlightened ideas of a few intelligent people.”
In the coming days, the political establishment will likely beat the now-familiar drum of ‘democratic backsliding.’ The only element truly at risk of backsliding is the administrative elite’s control over Slovak government policy.
