New Books In Eastern European Studies

Why did communism collapse so rapidly in Eastern Europe in 1989? The answer commonly given at the time was that something called “civil society,” having grown mighty in the 1980s, overthrew it. I’ve always been more than a little uncomfortable with both the idea of “civil society” and this explanation. The former is very difficult to define. Is “civil society” the same as “the opposition?” Is it something like the “public sphere” (another slippery though very popular notion)? Or is it just a trendy synonym for “the people,” as in “of the people, by the people, for the people?” The explanation is theoretically (and politically) comforting, but it doesn’t make much sense empirically. With the exception of Poland, most Eastern European states had minuscule “civil societies” under almost any reasonable definition. And even in Poland, “civil society” did not bring Solidarity to power–bungling Communists did. In Uncivil Society: 1989 and the Implosion of the Communist Establishment (The Modern Library, 2009), Steph

There are certain dates that every European historian knows. Among them are 1348 (The Black Death), 1517 (The Reformation), 1648 (The Peace of Westphalia), 1789 (The French Revolution), 1848 (The Revolutions of 1848), 1914 (The beginning of World War I), 1933 (Hitler comes to power), and 1945 (The end of World War II). Two decades ago we added another date to the roster of “historical” years–1989. In ’89 the world really did change: the hallmark of an entire historical epoch–the struggle between the Capitalist West and the Communist East–came to a sudden end. The Berlin Wall came down, the Soviets withdrew from Eastern Europe, the Communist Parties of Eastern Europe relinquished power, new democratic states emerged, and people danced in the streets. At least for a while. To say that nobody saw ’89 coming would be a bit of an exaggeration: people had been predicting the decline of Soviet power in Eastern Europe for decades. Like all regularly made predictions (“Prices will fall…”), this one eventually came tru

Tim Snyder has written a great book. It’s called The Red Prince: The Secret Lives of A Habsburg Archduke (Basic, 2008). Of course it’s thoroughly researched. Tim’s read all the literature and visited all the archives. Of course it’s historically revealing. Tim’s told a story that no one has told before. And of course it’s relevant. The book is about empires becoming nations, an ongoing process in Russia, China, and India. We expect all this from a top-notch historian working in a field he knows like the back of his hand. But Tim has done more. He’s written a serious history book that is enjoyable to read. How’d he do it? Well, Tim’s picked the right subject: an Eastern European prince with dreams of uniting a “nation” that didn’t exist. Did I mention said prince liked to dress as a woman, consort with sailors, and slum in Montmartre? Tim’s picked the right voice: witty, knowing, and ironic, but never sarcastic. Irony is hard; sarcasm is easy. Tim’s picked the right style: rich enough to delight, but spare eno