The dilemma of the social contract in Subcarpathian Rus’
Just as there can’t be a stone wall without cement, the masses do not make a functioning society without intelligentsia. Back in the day poverty gave birth to the dry masonry technology, still actively used until recently. But a drystone foundation could only support a small wooden house, the type of which housed many generations of our ancestors.
Today, our houses are big and modern, laid on concrete foundations. But as a civilization, we are still living in our old drystone kuči (shacks). Our topic is the social contract, the relationship between the intelligentsia and the people, its tumultuous history in Subcarpathian Rus’, and the grave consequences for the current state of our society.
The definition of either intelligentsia or the people (not the nation) is highly debatable. Intelligentsia is a sociocultural class that is engaged in intellectual work, displays initiative and moral leadership. Think the classic triad: teacher, notary, priest. “The people” could stand for every member of a given society, in our case mostly composed of farmers, workers and business owners.
When we try to apply these categories to Carpatho-Rusyns, we soon understand that they did not function the same way in our case. For most of our history, the intelligentsia did not display initiative or moral leadership, and most times its loyalties lay with the current political regime, not the people. Without having its economic, political, or even cultural elite, the unfortunate Carpatho-Rusyn people were more akin to a mass. In Subcarpathian Rus’, this situation held for centuries and was ingrained into social structure, despite the often changing ruling states.
To properly understand the character of the social contract in Subcarpathian Rus’, we need to go back in time, analyzing its development and changes over various historical periods. It is worth focusing on modern history, in our case beginning in about the mid-nineteenth century. The main framework we will use will be the state-intelligentsia-people triangle. The periods are as follows: Hungary, Czechoslovakia, Soviet Union, and currently, Ukraine.
The Hungarian period is the first and most lasting. Many trends that started here are still relevant today. First, it goes all they way back to the Middle Ages, including most of our premodern history and the beginning of our modern era. Second, the Kingdom of Hungary as a society was based on the estate system and internal colonialism (with respect to the peripheral territories populated by non-Magyars). In Subcarpathian Rus’, the political and economic elites consisted of outside hereditary aristocracy. The small intelligentsia was rather relegated to an auxiliary role. The Carpatho-Rusyn population were predominantly marginalized subjects.
This premodern tradition gave rise to an asymmetrical social contract, exclusive to the state and the intelligentsia. Its key condition for the intelligentsia was loyalty to the state and its doctrine. The metropole, on the other hand, would ensure certain local benefits, like providing aid (including military aid) in local conflicts and so on. In the modern era, i.e. from the second half of the 19th century up until 1918, this arrangement would develop and expand, but would not change in its core.
Over time, the intelligentsia adopted the Hungarian language and ethnic identity, further increasing its distance from the Carpatho-Rusyn people. Jews arriving from the east found their place in Subcarpathia by following “the laws of the game”, thus assuming a key role in local economic life.
With few exceptions, the situation developed as outlined above. Local officials, teachers, doctors, priests, and all the rest predominantly surrendered their subjectivity and served the state much more than they did the local population. Naturally, this offered some advantages, like legal impunity for the official, or taxes for the priest. The intellectually and politically orphaned Rusyn farmer did not see the intelligentsia as a source of leadership and support, but as an extension of the state, the corruption and Magyarization. Trust and cooperation were out of the question, leading the people into an isolated life limited to small closed communes. Thus, Carpatho-Rusyns long remained mere passive participants in a paternalistic social contract, the outsider governed by others.
The break occurred in 1918, when in the aftermath of WWI Subcarpathian Rus’ was awarded to Czechoslovakia. This historical event had its positive and negative sides. On the one hand, the region gained from the newly established republic introducing universal suffrage, pluralism, freedom of culture, language, economic life and religion. These truly progressive changes for its time provided a strong momentum for the developing civil society.
In the new state, the social contract changed radically. The regime in Prague viewed the old elites in Subcarpathia as an opposition force. Conversely, it found support in the local Rusyn population, which, however, lacked a large enough intelligentsia to take the initiative. Hence, the solution was twofold: moving Czech professionals to Subcarpathian Rus’, and supporting Carpatho-Rusyn intelligentsia. The plan was to balance and stabilize the political and socioeconomic situation in the region. The new social contract supposed a healthy relationship between the state, the intelligentsia, and the people, each playing a proportionate role. The state oversaw and guaranteed the social contract. The people received leverage within the liberal political system, such as electoral power or protest action. For the first time in a long while, the intelligentsia began approaching the people and assuming its role as leaders and educators.
On the other hand, the long years of lagging behind left the Carpatho-Rusyn population so isolated, incognizant, morally and physically subdued, that it lacked the capability to adapt to the new times and use their potential. The majority continued to live by inertia, which did not allow for a quick change to the social structure. As expected, distrust, apathy, negativity and fear were very common. The Czech Agrarian politician Antonín Chloupek described the social situation in 1922 Subcarpathia as follows: “The people blame us Czechs, that we seem to favor the intelligentsia, that was and still remains Hungarian, does not empathize with the people and wants to keep them under control under the Czechoslovak flag as it did in Hungary…”.
As one can imagine, life was not ideal, with vices like corruption, extortion and others. My great-grandmother used to say that life was best with the Czechs, because it was easy to cut a deal with them. This demonstrates a simple fact: Carpatho-Rusyns obtained more freedom, openness and opportunities, but their worldview and ambitions were too narrow to use the chance. That is normal. The upheaval was badly felt by everyone in Subcarpathian Rus’. But it also helped identify its actual reality and issues, and acted as a catalyst for change, primarily in the popular mentality. This period saw the closest ties and cooperation between the people and the intelligentsia taking place in schools, village libraries, cooperatives, and even the first Masonic lodge to operate in the Rusyn language, Centrum Securitatis in Užhorod.
The issue with the Czechoslovak Republic was that it only survived for 20 years. For a brief period (1939-1944) Subcarpathian Rus’ existed under Hungarian occupation, which will not be discussed here. Much more important was the period of Soviet rule, beginning in 1945. This period had many peculiarities, some negative, others not; to mention just a few: totalitarianism, political repression, collectivization, censorship. But the worst tragedy was what happened to the intelligentsia. To further its political control, the state set out to destroy the agency and subjectivity of the intelligentsia. Gradually, the intelligentsia turned into a faceless instrument, despite any fictitious prestige it may have held.
In a way, after a long break Subcarpathian Rus’ returned back to the paternalism familiar from old Hungary. The social contract came to resemble a hierarchy, where the intelligentsia mediated between the state and the people, but really was relegated to an executive or retranslating role. Consequently, the intelligentsia lost its leading position, which was taken over by “the leading party”. This did not just undermine Subcarpathian intelligentsia, but also the people’s trust in it. Despite the totalitarian nature of the state, at its core the society could tell the difference between doctrine and reality. Those who tried to gain favor with the political class or use their social status, forever lost any support with the people. What is described here was not always the case, and it is possible to find positive counterexamples. However, when comparing their social and cultural capital, a high school teacher under Czechoslovak rule would often do better than a Soviet university professor.
The harm caused by the Soviet Union was followed by more harm caused by its collapse in 1991. Even within a newly independent state, Subcarpathian Rus’ (and all of Ukraine) stayed on the same track for years, dealing with a major crisis. The social contract hierarchy disintegrated, so did the economic and political systems. Some realms of society held on to the status quo, while others fell into chaos (as the Ukrainian saying goes, “accept when you are given, run when you are beaten”).
Just about every party to the social contract was disoriented. The initiative was taken by marginal and criminal parts of society, keen to whitewash themselves and become the new elites. The fictitious prestige held by the intelligentsia quickly vanished. After 40 years of playing by the regime’s rules many forgot what social capital, initiative or moral leadership was. Thus, most of the intelligentsia was subsumed under the derogatory term byudzhetnyky (state employees) and blended into the silent masses trying to survive. Those positioned to use the chaos in their own interests fared better, but they can only be called parasites.
Over the years, the situation has stabilized. Loyalty and integration are current priorities of the state and key words for understanding the social contract in Subcarpathian Rus’. As long as the local elites (even those with a controversial past) voice their public support for the state, they have the mandate to govern the region and a blank check for incompetency.
Sadly, the same principle often applies to the intelligentsia, specifically that in the public sector, which continues many Soviet practices. It still holds a very neutral position, which contradicts its purpose of leadership. It lacks solidarity and is unable to collectively stand for even its own interests, to say nothing of the popular interest – this goes against moral leadership. It is still afraid to openly disagree with the higher-ups, assume initiative and responsibility. The intelligentsia is slowly gaining weight within the social contract, but it is still weak as of yet.
In this situation, the people seem lonely and disunited. They become a mass of people, with great potential, but left to its own devices. Instead of cooperating, they live in organized anarchy, focused on surviving another day. That kind of trauma imprints the collective consciousness with deep distrust and resentment for both the intelligentsia and the state. Crucially, there is no vision for the future, no common interests, long-term goals or motivation. Without the intelligentsia, the people are unable to advance to the necessary level. And in my opinion, without gaining support from the people, the intelligentsia will lack subjectivity and will not assume its role in society.
And so we come to a dilemma. Who has to make the first step? Considering our history with its lack of developments within civil society and an abundance of paternalism, it would be unwise to expect the people to start organizing. You could expect about as much from the state in Subcarpathian Rus’, which can only offer to trade certain freedoms for loyalty. I believe the intelligentsia to be the key to a better social contract and progress in the region. This depends on how it will conduct its work and how others will work with the intelligentsia.
It is the intelligentsia that has to take the lead, demonstratively join the people and establish open communication, at least in a local setting where common interests are obvious (public welfare). Abandon the myths of “there’s nothing we can do”, “this is how the country is”, “we can’t change anything”. People who think in these terms are unfit for moral leadership altogether. There will be much catching up to do in terms of civil institutes, which need to be promoted among the people without fear of negativity.
At some point, the intelligentsia will need to establish contacts with the state, the local government. But one should not accept everything coming from the top as gospel. It is important to learn to provide feedback to the state, offer constructive criticism, and protest when necessary. By the way, there is nothing wrong with joining the political scene and, with popular support, take the parasites head on. But solidarity should never be forgotten in a moment of crisis. Your people should never be left alone under duress. The leaders who accept the burden of responsibility have to be protected. Still today, many are afraid to speak up, fearing disapproval, losing their job or persecution at work. If the principle “one for all and all for one” doesn’t hold, it’s not even worth trying.
Yes, this is a very high bar for the intelligentsia. That’s why another priority is educating the intelligentsia itself. Someone needs to remind it about its identity, purpose and power. This is what the most committed of us must do. Proceed openly, creatively, rejecting any exclusivist, elitist or traditionalist ideas, as they will not resolve the problems of 21th century Subcarpathian Rus’.