[Essay][Literature][Book Review] On the Human Face: Reading Milan Kundera's "The Kidnapped West or the Tragedy of Central Europe"

Milan Kundera, the great writer born in the Czech Republic who passed away the year before last, wrote "The Kidnapped West or the Tragedy of Central Europe," a very small book containing two lectures that nonetheless gives one much to think about. My own thoughts are not yet fully organized, but I would like to write down what comes to mind in a rambling fashion.
The two lectures are "Literature and the Small Nations" (1967), delivered at the Czechoslovak Writers' Congress on the eve of the "Prague Spring," and "The Kidnapped West or the Tragedy of Central Europe" (1983), delivered in Paris after his exile. Although the times and circumstances of the two lectures differ, they are deeply connected in content: the former discusses culture as the basis for the existence of "small nations" at the mercy of great powers, while the latter appeals to the concept of "Central Europe" as a community of culture and destiny—centered specifically on Hungary, the Czech Republic, and Poland—and its historical fragility. In other words, it is the tragedy of modern history that, while consistently belonging to the West culturally as part of the "Catholic sphere" and "Habsburg sphere" since the Middle Ages, they were forcibly incorporated into the East politically after World War II, becoming part of the "Communist sphere" and the "Russian sphere." Although this book was published in France in 2021, it seems to have been read in the context of the recent situation in Ukraine. According to Kundera, the definition of a "small nation" is "a nation whose existence may be questioned or put in doubt at any moment; it can disappear and it knows it." Therefore, its cultural value is what concerns the very foundation of its existence. Although not geographically or historically "Central Europe," it is natural to be reminded of Ukraine, whose existence as a nation has been denied by Putin. While reading this book, I found myself drawing it into my own area of interest and thinking about the fate of Taiwan. It is not even in Europe, but I think the scope and applicability of Kundera's argument are broad.

Culture as national identity and the principle of resistance. Perhaps the Prague of 1968 was the last time that individual small cultural expressions—novels, poetry, theater, film, etc.—exerted more influence than giant media and could serve as a broad popular foundation. The "Prague Spring" as the final chapter of "the modern era, that is, the era when culture still represented the realization of supreme values" (ibid.). The current era, where even the "abolition of literature departments" is being advocated, and the intellectual poverty of our country. The homogenization of culture through globalization is promoting the thinning of the individual and weakening the principles of resistance. There are likely only a few people left who think that existing mass media can fulfill such a role, and regardless of their potential, many would not consider SNS—which in reality has become a device for spreading fake news and hate, and is left to the whims and greed of irresponsible giant platformers—to be trustworthy.

"The Unbearable Lightness of Being" is a novel that had a great influence on my life, and since I could go on forever, I will focus on one point. The invasion by the Warsaw Pact forces led by the Soviet Union, the arrest of First Secretary of the Communist Party Alexander Dubček and his forced transport to the Soviet Union, and the imposition of a compromise known as the "Moscow Protocol." I think Kundera concentrates the essence of the great historical event of the "Prague Spring" into Dubček's weak speech and the long pauses that interrupted his words. In the film, the courageous resistance of the citizens is depicted, and like me, many may remember it deeply as the "Hey Jude" scene. However, that is likely far removed from the author's thoughts and intentions. To sum up the symbolism of Dubček's trembling voice and silence in one word, it would be the "sorrow of a small nation."
I apologize for drawing this back to my own area of interest, but I am reminded of Lee Teng-hui's words, "the sorrow of being born Taiwanese." These words were spoken during a dialogue with Ryotaro Shiba in the Weekly Asahi, and in an era without SNS, they spread widely within Taiwan and touched the hearts of many people. This statement, which laments a history of being continuously ruled by foreign powers regardless of their own will, is said to be one of the reasons for Lee Teng-hui's landslide victory in the first direct presidential election in 1996. The collective memory and sharing of the emotion of sorrow. Could this not also be a form of national identity? Not brave, but a supple and resilient principle of resistance. The Velvet Revolution and the Sunflower Student Movement—the argument is very weak, but that is what I thought about.

This is testimony from Mita Munesuke, a sociologist and one of the leading intellectuals of modern Japan who passed away three years ago, recalling the time around 1974. Six years after the failure of the "Prague Spring," people were by no means despondent, and hope seemed to live on. Recently, I have vaguely thought that perhaps the convergence theory was correct. In the sense that it might have been for the best. On one hand, socialism that introduced a market economy and a multi-party system, and significantly recognized freedom of speech and the press—that is, "socialism with a human face." On the other hand, high-welfare social democratic modified capitalism by a government that does not hesitate to intervene to correct inequality and injustice. The approach and fusion of both systems. That would certainly not be a utopia. A powerful administrative state, inefficient bureaucracy. I read it in my student days so my memory is hazy, but I recall Galbraith discussing such things extensively. However, how does it compare to today's dystopian situation where neoliberalism is rampant and everyone has become a wolf to everyone else? Was that really inevitable? The victory of capitalism over socialism, the end of ideological struggle, the universalization of liberal democracy, and so on. The theory of the "end of history" that swept the world after the end of the Cold War. Now, that concept of liberal is under crossfire all over the world.
It would be too naive to talk about "capitalism with a human face." The ability to assume a "human face" as something self-evident and good was likely a story from "the modern era, that is, the era when culture still represented the realization of supreme values." Postmodernism as a deflation of human values and its advocacy ideology. When you say "human face," some might think of the beastly faces of neoliberals who seek prey in a world of excessive survival of the fittest, like hyenas. Even so, I feel like I want to cling to an old-fashioned humanism. Isn't that fine?