Aletho News

Perestroika then and now

By Přemysl Janýr | March 3, 2025

Vienna – In the 1980s, Eastern Europe was caught in the tension between the inflexible ideological framework of the Communist Party and the burgeoning desires of the populace for economic and political transformation. For those entrenched in power, it was about more than just holding onto their cushy positions; their very survival was at stake, as the legitimacy of their rule was precarious and the societal mood was increasingly inhospitable.

These rulers sought solace in ideological manipulation and censorship. The state-controlled media cast the West as the ultimate adversary, perpetrating ideological subversion through the dissemination of bourgeois propaganda spread by enemies of the socialism with the goal of toppling the socialist regime by violent means. Yet, this narrative had limited traction; the West’s allure lay in its exemplary living standards, relative freedom, and human rights and its intentions to overthrow the socialist system was substantiated by nothing but vacuous rhetoric.

Then, in 1985, Mikhail Gorbachev emerged as the General Secretary of the Soviet Union’s Communist Party, introducing Perestroika — a sweeping set of economic and political reforms aimed at making the Soviet Union and the broader Eastern Bloc competitive with the West. This sparked widespread anticipation among the populace, yet also stirred anxiety among the Eastern European power structures: Gorbachev’s initiatives contained elements that threatened their power, but also a sudden shift in allegiance, redefining the hitherto adversary as ally.

The social divide grew more profound. The hopes of the populace in satellite nations were pinned on the current hegemon, now perceived as an ally against the rigid domestic power structures that he had previously established. Yet, from the perspective of the Eastern European elite, Gorbachev had committed an act of treachery, deserting them and leaving them to face their fate alone.

Within four years, the Eastern Bloc crumbled, and two years later, the Soviet Union followed suit. The previously dominant CPSU was outlawed, and its remnants in Eastern Europe swiftly switched allegiance to the former adversary.

History, it seems, has a peculiar way of repeating itself. In the early 21st century, a parallel schism is forming in Western societies. The very elements that made the West appealing for four decades — traditional values, social welfare, peace, human rights, liberty, and democracy — have been ruthlessly curtailed. The ruling establishments are embroiled in the spread of panic over COVID-19 and are actively participating in the Ukraine war and the genocide in Gaza.

Western Europeans are increasingly placing their trust in emerging populist parties, spanning both the right and left wings of the political spectrum. For the entrenched establishment, it is about more than just holding onto their cushy positions; their very survival is at stake. Their grip on power and the pathways that lead to it are laden with activities that could be unequivocally deemed criminal. The evolving societal climate does not appear promising for them either.

Their salvation, they believe, lies in media manipulation and censorship. The mainstream narrative consistently vilifies Russia and China as ominous dictatorships, wages campaigns against disinformation, the Russian propaganda, conspiracy theories and anti-Semitism spread by agents of Putin. The West, it claims, faces an imminent attack from Russia. Yet, this narrative had limited traction; the West’s credibility has been eroded by its own actions, and the notion of a Russian attack is substantiated by nothing but vacuous rhetoric.

In 2025, Donald Trump re-entered the political arena as the US President, initiating MAGA, a movement to combat the deep state and cleanse American society of obscure financial and power structures. This stirred great hope among many Americans, but also significant apprehension among the established elite. MAGA represented not just a challenge to their power, but also a sudden shift in allegiance, redefining the West’s adversary as potential ally.

The social rift grew wider. The residents of Western satellites pinned their hopes on the current hegemon, now perceived as an ally against the rigid domestic power structures. Yet, from the perspective of those structures, Trump had committed an act of treachery, deserting them and leaving them to face their fate alone.

The trajectory seems clear: the eventual disintegration of the Atlantic bloc and the shift of its remnants to the former adversary. Will the collapse of the hegemonic power come next? It’s a reasonable prediction.

But let’s go a step further. The euphoria of the Cold War’s end and the unbridled optimism for a future of comprehensive peace, freedom, democracy, and human rights were soon overshadowed by their gradual erosion. In retrospect, the new hegemon had only its own global world domination in mind from the beginning. This led to new conflicts across Europe, the Middle East, and Africa.

Can we expect history to repeat itself after the fall of the Atlantic bloc? Not necessarily. The emerging superpowers of China, India, and Russia do not share the western legacy of colonialist exploitation. The BRICS+ coalition presents itself as a multipolar community of equals, emphasizing cooperation over competition.

Still, we must remain cautious, for the 1990s taught us that optimism can be fleeting. A society that neglects its history is destined to repeat it. Over the past 25 years, we have amassed a treasure trove of tragic lessons to learn from and be vigilant against.

March 3, 2025 - Posted by aletho | Civil Liberties, Full Spectrum Dominance, Russophobia, Sinophobia, Timeless or most popular | China, Human rights, Russia, United States