By: Dr Matevž Tomšič
Lately, clear evidence has been emerging in the public sphere of something that is as plain as day to anyone with even a modest understanding of politics and society: namely, that Slovenia is far from having completed its post-communist transition. The patterns of the former system are still very much alive. The power centres that stem from it still play a key role. And the old-regime mentality remains deeply entrenched.
First, the most likely “new face” on the left stated in a newspaper interview that he had met with the main “grey eminence” of that political camp, but that he had not yet received the “green light” to enter the domestic party-political scene. Then this eminence publicly confirmed his role on national television, declaring urbi et orbi that he doubts whether, yet another new player is really needed on what he sees as an already overly fragmented left.
The people in question are, of course, MEP Vladimir Prebilič and the former president, and before that, party boss, Milan Kučan. The former candidly admitted that an autonomous political engagement on the Slovenian left is not possible, or at least not viable, unless one has the backing of behind-the-scenes power centres. The latter clearly demonstrated that such power centres do in fact exist, and that he plays a central role in them. He operates in the style of an aging mafia godfather, without whom nothing happens, even though he no longer holds any public office.
The observation that Slovenia is ruled by post-communist backroom power structures is hardly new. As early as the 1990s, former Delo and later Mag editor Danilo Slivnik wrote about this in a book tellingly titled Kučan’s Clan. Later, Professor Zdenko Roter, one of Kučan’s closest confidants, confirmed much of this in his book, also aptly named, The Fallen Masks. But for a long time, key people in these circles kept their roles hidden. Mainstream media – largely sympathetic to the left – also covered for them. Many journalists, commentators, and other “experts” dismissed claims about the dominant influence of political backrooms (later branded more benignly as “the uncles from the shadows”) as conspiracy theories or the paranoid projections of their authors.
But now, the protagonists of this political backstage no longer hide it. While Kučan once presented himself as “just a regular retiree,” he now hands out political directives in full view of the public, summoning (or perhaps more accurately, interrogating) people who act – or intend to act – on the left, all while continually demonising those on the right (a stance in which he is hardly alone).
Of course, in all countries there are individuals who, despite not holding formal positions of power, exert considerable influence over political decisions. The same goes for interest groups that use their (primarily financial) resources to push their agendas – often at the expense of the wider public. This happens even in countries with long democratic traditions. However, in such places, there are multiple informal centres of power and diverse pressure groups whose political and ideological orientations often differ – and whose interests frequently conflict. In that sense, pluralism exists.
In post-communist Slovenia, however, we are dealing with a political backstage that controls all key sectors of society. Even though different cliques within it may not always be on the friendliest of terms, they are politically quite homogeneous when it comes to support: they mobilise before every election – parliamentary or presidential – to ensure that the “right” option wins. That the left wins. That those who will serve them as instruments take power. In such conditions, we can speak of a deformed democracy. In this respect, Slovenia’s situation is arguably worse than that of Orbán’s much-criticised Hungary. Because over there, at least, the one who gets elected actually decides.
