An Irresistible Tide

By Howard G. Chua-Eoan

In the ebb and flow of history, there is sometimes a tide that can sweep in the most profound changes. The people of Eastern Europe sense just such a tide washing over them now, a political swell that has already propelled Solidarity to power in Poland, transformed Communism to socialism in Hungary and punched through the Wall in Berlin. Last week the irresistible tide reached Bulgaria and even pounded at the entrenched Communist regime in Czechoslovakia. Men and women across the full breadth of the East bloc were attempting to catch the wave, aware that it must be done before a historic opportunity is lost.

-- In Bulgaria at least 50,000 people marched peacefully through central Sofia, chanting "Democracy!" and "Free elections!" and demanding that Todor Zhivkov, the autocratic hard-liner who had been ousted only a week earlier after 35 years in power, be put on trial. Although the unthinkable has become a daily happening in Eastern Europe, there was still something astonishing in the sight of street demonstrations in this quiescent land. The marches even had the blessing of the week-old reformist government of Petar Mladenov, 53, which has been moving rapidly to harness the country's desire for change. For the first time ever, Bulgarians watched live television coverage of their National Assembly -- and listened to vicious denunciations of Zhivkov. After installing Mladenov as head of state, the legislature revoked the law that made it an offense to utter words "of a character to create dissatisfaction with the government." Mladenov seemed to be pushing Bulgaria further down the road to political reform when he declared that "personally, I am for free elections."

-- In Czechoslovakia more than 15,000 students in Prague last week staged the largest protest rally in two decades. "This is better than in 1969 because the atmosphere is much better," said Karel Srp, head of the dissident group Jazz Section, recalling the way an angry populace had reacted after the defeat of its brief fling with liberalization in the spring of 1968. "Now we know we can win. This is unstoppable."

Maybe -- and maybe not. Instead of co-opting the protests, the Communist government of Milos Jakes beat them down. Riot police armed with long white clubs and plastic shields put an end to the five-hour march with tear gas and truncheon attacks, injuring dozens of protesters and arresting about 100.

Still, the once monolithic regime seemed to be of two minds about political reform. Rude Pravo, the official party daily, revealed last week that Prime Minister Ladislav Adamec had urged that "we now need political reforms to go even faster" than economic changes. Adamec added, "The country can be ruled only on condition that its people feel confident about the government." It was a direct contradiction of Jakes' doctrine that economic opiates -- adequate housing, food and clothing -- would numb the populace to the desire for political liberalization. So strong was the whiff of reform in Prague last week that hard-line officials went out of their way to deny Western reports that they had received telexes from Moscow urging democratization.

-- In Rumania the harsh regime of Nicolae Ceausescu sought to immunize itself from any hint of change by locking its borders with reformist Hungary. Travelers trying to cross at five border points were turned back, possibly to prevent any disruption of a party Congress this week. With the Soviet Union now encouraging the reforms that felled other hard-line rulers, the tyrannical Ceausescu last week turned to China for support in standing firm. The tide of reform is not likely to reach Bucharest so long as its despotic leader survives. Any Rumanian bold enough to speak out is beaten, harassed or imprisoned. Says Jane Ingham, a Rumanian specialist in England: "The regime is so oppressive that no opposition movement is able to exist."

-- In East Germany the dust from the breaching of the Wall has yet to settle. Prime Minister Hans Modrow, a leading reformer who was elevated to the Politburo only two weeks ago, faced a parliament rapidly awakening to popular calls for more democracy. At an emergency session, delegates to the once ineffectual legislature proposed to remove the constitutional guarantee of a "leading role" for the party, a phrase as basic to Communist dogma as "We the People" is to the U.S. Constitution. On Friday Modrow presented a 28-member Cabinet that included eleven representatives of officially sanctioned minor parties that have begun to wean themselves from Communist domination. Modrow also announced the establishment of "the rule of law," "protection from the law," and "freedom from fear." As a step toward these reforms, the government ousted the head of the dreaded Ministry of State Security, slashed the ministry's personnel by 10% and renamed the department the Office of National Security.

-- Even in Moscow, party leaders were struggling to come to terms with the revolution being wrought in Eastern Europe. Official papers were both elated by the changes and wary that the democratic tide might wash away the postwar boundaries of Europe. Politburo member Alexander Yakovlev observed that the renewal in Poland, Hungary and East Germany "poses a threat to none, except, maybe, those countries that have yet to go through the process of democratization." Moscow was preparing to ease rules for travel and gave no sign that the tidal wave in Eastern Europe has reached the limit of its tolerance.

The biggest danger to Prague's inflexible leadership is an explicit Soviet disavowal of the 1968 invasion. Amazingly, that might be in the offing. Rude Pravo reported that Prague's chief of ideology, Jan Gojtik, had met with his Soviet opposite number in Moscow. Rude Pravo confirmed that the two men had dealt "with the history of the relations between the Communist parties, including the year 1968" and that "they reached a full identity of views." It has long been the accepted wisdom among Western and Czechoslovak experts that if the legitimacy of the 1968 invasion were ever officially questioned, it would be the Jakes regime's death warrant. This week East Germany's Communist Party chief Egon Krenz will be in Prague for a visit with Jakes. Sources in Berlin intimate that Krenz will try to persuade the Czechoslovak leader to drop his hard line. The trip, said East German Foreign Minister Oskar Fischer, may just have a "stimulating effect."

Mladenov's ascendancy in Bulgaria was the result of deep interparty wrangling that was fueled by a policy clash over Zhivkov's persecution of the country's large Turkish minority. The racist program raised an international uproar that embarrassed Mladenov, who was then Foreign Minister. Mladenov is believed to have rallied support among the Politburo to stage a civilian coup against Zhivkov. After a decisive vote, the new overlord of Bulgaria quickly adopted the language of reform to rally public support and consolidate power. Despite his stated preference for free elections, Mladenov has said nothing about abandoning the Communists' "leading role." "I don't expect elections with new parties," said Vladimir Kalaidjev, a senior party official. "They will not have the chance to be formed."

But the popular thrill of change may overwhelm even the canniest of political manipulators. Officially sanctioned anti-Zhivkov demonstrations last week were soon overwhelmed by popularly organized protests. For the moment their prime target is the hated Zhivkov, who is widely accused of arrogance, corruption and a czarlike accumulation of personal wealth. Said Slavcho Trenski, a Central Committee member: "Bulgaria became a hunting reserve for the President." Communist leaders may buy time and cheer hearts with a modicum of reform, but it is all too possible that they also could be surprised by the chain reaction that arises from the very exhilaration of new freedoms.

But what a party it has been for the Germans. Through the Wall and the rest of the border fences, the flood of East Germans to the West continued all week long. Ten million East Germans -- nearly two-thirds of the population -- obtained permits to cross over. By the end of the week, upwards of 4 million had made the journey, crowding the autobahns and filling stores. Most had eyes bigger than their pocketbooks. They financed their mini-splurges with a one-time $55 in "welcome money" provided by West Germany.

To the relief of politicians on both sides, no more than 15,000 East Germans elected to stay permanently in the West, joining the 225,000 who had fled before the border opened. Some -- East Germany says as many as 10,000 -- may return home. But the human hemorrhage stopped, confirming what common sense should have told East Germany's leaders years ago: people who feel free have no need to run away from home.

East Germany's desperate gamble did not, however, save the Communist Party from the prospect of political oblivion. There seemed to be little doubt that its absolute and often brutal 40-year rule would come to an end. Despite his role in the reform initiatives and opening of the Wall, Krenz is so widely distrusted that he stands in danger of losing his top role. Restive members demanded that an emergency party conference scheduled for mid-December be elevated into a full-scale congress that will have the power to dump the entire Central Committee.

Modrow appeared to be the party's great Red hope. He was the one member of the Old Guard with a certain popularity, if not exactly a following. During ( the Honecker years, he had openly criticized the deterioration of East Germany's economy and kept up the attacks even after party bosses tried to intimidate him by sending 140 "investigators" to Dresden, where he was local party chief, to look into his "ideological errors." Modrow is now considered the only man who may be able to lead a rejuvenated and reformed party to a respectable performance at the polls.

Elections are the key to the party's -- and East Germany's -- future. They are scheduled for 1991, as required by the constitution, but the pace of change is pressing the country toward an earlier date, perhaps next spring. For the Communists, ironically, an early vote could prove a boon by keeping potential rivals from organizing effectively.

Yet most Western diplomats believe the Communists, even transformed from top to bottom, probably would not win more than 10% of the popular vote if elections were really free. The party has lost an estimated 600,000 of its 2.5 million members in recent months. By some accounts, half the membership would not even vote Communist.

East Germany will also have to deal with the economic consequences of opening up its borders. As goods and labor begin to flow across the Wall, the difference between the strong West German mark and the virtually worthless East German mark will create a powerful black market. Beyond that, East Germany will need Western help to revive its Rust Bowl of antiquated factories. West Berlin's Economic Research Institute says it will cost $250 billion just to bring the country's hopelessly outmoded communications system up to Western standards. Upgrading roads and rails could cost as much or more.

For the rulers of the East bloc, opening the floodgates of reform even partway seems certain to result in more than just a cleansing catharsis. If they had expected only to buy time to save their slipping grasp on power, they may soon be proved wrong. Each change begets some other unpredictable change, and as leaders in Poland, Hungary and East Germany have already discovered, suddenly brings on a whole new order. The tide is simply too irresistible.

With reporting by Kenneth W. Banta/Prague, James O. Jackson/Bonn and Frederick Ungeheuer/Berlin