Communist one-party regimes—much like any other countries—had their domestic intelligence and security services. However, what differentiates the East German Stasi, the Romanian Securitate and the Hungarian III/III Group from Western domestic secret services is the lack of democratic oversight. Lacking accountability, secret policing under communism compromised Central European societies. It set neighbour against neighbour, family members against each other and decreased social trust within these societies. The dark past of collaboration with communism still overshadows regional political culture.
In Hungary the infamous III/III Group (under the Ministry of Interior) was responsible for domestic secret policing. Its primary aim was to monitor youth organisations, religious associations, cultural institutions, and the political opposition. It was in charge of ensuring the political and ideological protection of universities as well as of scientific institutions[1]. It meant screening the intelligentsia, unveiling samizdats and their writers; and politically intimidating anyone who was ready to challenge the regime politically or ideologically. Part of the III/III Groups’ work was to disrupt oppositional civil society groups by secretly infiltrating them and setting their members against each other. The infiltrating agents’ aim was to ideologically divide these oppositional groups and gather evidence against their members with the aim of constructing trials against them.
Stasi offices were usually attached to local post offices, which meant that practically all mail correspondence in East Germany was monitored by the secret agency
The modus operandi of all state-socialist secret agencies was like the III/III’s; however, the extent to which they managed to compromise and control societies in Eastern Bloc countries was different. East Germany had the largest proportion of informants in terms of its population in the whole world. As of 1989, the Stasi employed 95 thousand bureaucrats[2] and had around 2 million informants. That is to say, 1 in every 8 people in the German Democratic Republic (GDR) was associated with the Stasi[3]. Stasi offices were usually attached to local post offices, which meant that practically all mail correspondence in East Germany was monitored by the secret agency before the collapse of the regime[4]. In January 1992 when the secret agency files were opened GDR citizens realised in silent shock the extent to which their society was compromised and how their neighbours, parents, spouses, and children were reporting on their personal lives. The sheer volume of the Stasi files represents the best how flawed communist societies became – ‘Stasi files fill 125 miles of shelf space, with each mile containing about 17 million sheets of paper and weighing nearly 50 tons (…) This included information on two million West Germans and on six million East Germans – one-third of the country[5]’. As the East German example shows – everyone was involved in reporting on their neighbour, and everyone was being reported by their friends. Compromising the whole society was the way of silencing people and therefore, maintaining the state-socialist one-party system.
The tragedy and complexity of collaboration with the secret police is best represented by Dorin Tudoran’s, the Romanian dissident poet’s life. While he was an internationally recognised poet, when he stepped up to criticize Ceauşescu’s rule his career was destroyed in no time. To escape the country, he went on a 42-day hunger strike – his protest was successful, he received a passport and permission to emigrate to the United States. After the regime change, he returned to Romania to find out that the secret police files about him are approximately 10 000 pages long. Among the informants about his activities were his closest friends, artists, and poets, even those who were vocal critics of the regime just like him[6]. While all seemed to be compromised by their collaboration with the regime, upon closer examination of his files, it turned out that some of his friends used their reports to try and defend Tudoran by hiding information which could have badly influenced his case.
Among the student informants 47 per cent reported to have had difficulties passing exams before offering their services to the secret police
It shows the difficulty of making value judgements about informants. Often people were dragged into reporting to protect their families and friends whose life, job and social status was threatened in case they denied assisting the secret police. After being coerced into joining the secret police, informants might have used their position to protect and shelter people close to them – as much it was possible within the circumstances. There is a sad alternative too, however. There were people who did join voluntarily and used their role in the domestic secret agencies for their personal gain. A case study in Poland has found that 65 per cent of the informants had issues in their careers before joining the secret services. Among the student informants 47 per cent reported to have had difficulties passing exams before offering their services to the secret police. However, after joining the secret agency, all obstacles were removed from the way of their professional development[7]. As each joined the secret policies with different incentives and pursued their role with different intentions judging informants is possible only on a case-by-case basis. If Central European countries are serious about restoring the lost trust in their societies, generalisations about informants will not help reconciliation – one must face that fact that history is imperfect and complicated.
[1] Regdon László, A III/III. csoportfőnökség a rendszerváltás idején, Belügyi Szemle, 2017/1, 111.
[2] Krzysztof Brzechczyn,‘Transitional justice, politics of memory and patterns of collaboration in Eastern Europe: a review article’, East European Politics, 37/1 (2021), 183.
[3] John P Moran, ‘The Communist Torturers of Eastern Europe: Prosecute and Punish or Forgive and Forget?, Communist and Post-Communist Studies’, 27/1 (March 1994), 98.
Taylor Downing and Andrew Johnston, ‘The Spitfire Legend’, History Today, 50/9 (2000), 19–25.
[4] John P Moran, ‘The Communist Torturers of Eastern Europe: Prosecute and Punish or Forgive and Forget?, Communist and Post-Communist Studies’, 27/1 (March 1994), 100.
[5] John P Moran, ‘The Communist Torturers of Eastern Europe: Prosecute and Punish or Forgive and Forget?, Communist and Post-Communist Studies’, 27/1 (March 1994), 101.
[6] Krzysztof Brzechczyn, ‘Transitional justice, politics of memory and patterns of collaboration in Eastern Europe: a review article’, East European Politics, 37/1 (2021), 188–189.
[7] Krzysztof Brzechczyn,‘Transitional justice, politics of memory and patterns of collaboration in Eastern Europe: a review article’, East European Politics, 37/1 (2021), 187–188.
