The Belgian Curtain: Europe after Communism — A Reader’s Guide
Edition facts
Before opening The Belgian Curtain: Europe after Communism — A Reader’s Guide, the edition data offers a quick orientation: 32,219 words, 2 hr 21 min estimated reading time, and 4 detected text sections.
The text analysis averages about 18.5 words per sentence, while the detected sections provide another way to judge how the source is divided.
Project Gutenberg metadata also associates the work with “Post-communism -- Europe,” connecting these edition facts with the source record’s subject description.
Calculated from edition completeness, EPUB availability, text structure and catalogue metadata. Not a user rating.
How this score is calculated
- Description quality20 pts
- Title & short description10 pts
- Source metadata20 pts
- Text length15 pts
- Chapters / structure15 pts
- EPUB file integrity20 pts
Total of 100 points, scaled to a 2.5-5.0 range. Editions with an empty description or a missing EPUB file are not scored.
Read the Text
Vassals were little freer than slaves. In comparison, burghers, the inhabitants of the city, were liberated from the bondage of the feudal labour contract. As a result, they were able to acquire private possessions and the city acted as supreme guarantor of their property rights. Urban centers relied on trading and economic might to obtain and secure political autonomy.
John of Paris, arguably one of the first capitalist cities (at least according to Braudel), wrote: "(The individual) had a right to property which was not with impunity to be interfered with by superior authority - because it was acquired by (his) own efforts" (in Georges Duby, "The age of the Cathedrals: Art and Society, 980-1420, Chicago, Chicago University Press, 1981). Max Weber, in his opus, "The City" (New York, MacMillan, 1958) wrote optimistically about urbanization: "The medieval citizen was on the way towards becoming an economic man ... the ancient citizen was a political man".
But communism halted this process. It froze the early feudal frame of mind of disdain and derision towards "non-productive", "city-based" vocations. Agricultural and industrial occupations were romantically extolled by communist parties everywhere. The cities were berated as hubs of moral turpitude, decadence and greed. Ironically, avowed anti-communist right wing populists, like Hungary's former prime minister, Orban, sought to propagate these sentiments, to their electoral detriment.
Communism was an urban phenomenon - but it abnegated its "bourgeoisie" pedigree. Private property was replaced by communal ownership. Servitude to the state replaced individualism. Personal mobility was severely curtailed. In communism, feudalism was restored.
Very like the Church in the Middle Ages, communism sought to monopolize and permeate all discourse, all thinking, and all intellectual pursuits. Communism was characterized by tensions between party, state and the economy - exactly as the medieval polity was plagued by conflicts between church, king and merchants-bankers.
In communism, political activism was a precondition for advancement and, too often, for personal survival. John of Salisbury might as well have been writing for a communist agitprop department when he penned this in "Policraticus" (1159 AD): "...if (rich people, people with private property) have been stuffed through excessive greed and if they hold in their contents too obstinately, (they) give rise to countless and incurable illnesses and, through their vices, can bring about the ruin of the body as a whole". The body in the text being the body politic.
Workers, both industrial and agricultural, were lionized and idolized in communist times. With the implosion of communism, these frustrated and angry rejects of a failed ideology spawned many grassroots political movements, lately in Poland, in the form of "Self Defence". Their envied and despised enemies are the well-educated, the intellectuals, the self-proclaimed new elite, the foreigner, the minority, the rich, and the remote bureaucrat in Brussels.
Like in the West, the hinterland tends to support the right. Orban's Fidesz lost in Budapest in the recent elections - but scored big in villages and farms throughout Hungary. Agrarian and peasant parties abound in all three central European countries and often hold the balance of power in coalition governments.
THE YOUNG and THE NEW versus THE TIRED and THE TRIED
The cult of youth in central Europe was an inevitable outcome of the utter failure of older generations. The allure of the new and the untried often prevailed over the certainty of the tried and failed. Many senior politicians, managers, entrepreneurs and journalists across this region are in their 20's or 30's.
Yet, the inexperienced temerity of the young has often led to voter disillusionment and disenchantment. Many among the young are too identified with the pratfalls of "reform". Age and experience reassert themselves through the ballot boxes - and with them the disingenuous habits of the past. Many of the "old, safe hands" are former communists disingenuously turned socialists turned democrats turned capitalists. As even revolutionaries age, they become territorial and hidebound. Turf wars are likely to intensify rather then recede.
THE TECHNOCRATS / EXPERTS versus THE LOBBYIST-MANAGERS
Communist managers - always the quintessential rent-seekers - were trained to wheedle politicians, lobby the state and cadge for subsidies and bailouts, rather than respond to market signals. As communism imploded, the involvement of the state in the economy - and the resources it commanded - contracted. Multilateral funds are tightly supervised. Communist-era "directors" - their skills made redundant by these developments - were shockingly and abruptly confronted with merciless market realities.
Predictably they flopped and were supplanted by expert managers and technocrats, more attuned to markets and to profits, and committed to competition and other capitalistic tenets. The decrepit, "privatized" assets of the dying system expropriated by the nomenclature were soon acquired by foreign investors, or shut down. The old guard has decisively lost its capital - both pecuniary and political.
The title The Belgian Curtain immediately signals a structural inversion: the Iron Curtain is replaced by a Western alliance, but the metaphor of division persists. Vaknin’s collection of essays, originally published by United Press International, moves between geopolitical scales—from Irish referendums on the Treaty of Nice to the psychological scars of 1938 Munich. The book’s four sections do not follow a linear narrative; instead, they circle around a central tension: the candidate states’ simultaneous desire for and suspicion of Western institutions.
Competing Alliances and Shifting Geographies
The opening essay, “EU and NATO – The Competing Alliances,” establishes the book’s core structural device: pairing institutions as rivals. Vaknin notes that NATO, “an erstwhile anti-Soviet military alliance in search of purpose,” has acquired political hues, while the EU struggles to balance small and large states. The text moves rapidly from the Irish vote to the September 11 aftermath, then to the “Partnership for Peace” and the Czech Republic’s NATO membership. This montage-like sequence mirrors the fragmented reality of post-communist geopolitics. The reader is left to connect the dots between the Irish “no” vote and the Baltic states’ fear of Russia. Vaknin does not linger; each paragraph introduces a new actor or treaty, creating a sense of accelerating change.
The Cost of Accession: Economic Shocks and Sovereignty
In “Switching Empires,” Vaknin shifts to a cost-benefit analysis of EU enlargement. He argues that candidate states gain “surprisingly little” from membership, listing concrete burdens: “dismantle a much admired edifice of economic liberalism” in Estonia, erect trade barriers, and adopt “tens of thousands of pages of prohibitively costly regulation.” The language is blunt, almost clinical. The essay contrasts the existential motivation of the 1990s—geopolitical insurance against Russia—with the economic disillusionment of the 2000s. Vaknin’s recurring image is the “new Moscow”: Brussels as a faceless bureaucracy. This parallel is not merely rhetorical; it reflects a structural pattern where the West replaces the East as the source of remote control.
Historical Memory as Political Force
Throughout the excerpts, historical grievances surface as structural elements. Vaknin invokes 1938 (the Munich Agreement) and 1956 (the Hungarian uprising) to explain current distrust. The Czechs “bitterly remember” being sacrificed to Nazis; the Poles and Slovenes fear German land purchases. These references are not decorative; they function as evidence for the “paranoid xenophobia” Vaknin identifies in central and east European discourse. The text itself mirrors this recursive pattern: it loops back to historical trauma to explain present ambivalence. The 1999 NATO bombing of Serbia is cited as a contemporary echo of Soviet intervention, challenging the reader to see continuity where official narratives see rupture.
Metaphors of Curtain and Empire
The title metaphor recurs implicitly. The “Belgian Curtain” suggests a new dividing line, not between East and West but within the West itself—between old and new members, between Brussels and the capitals of the acceding states. Vaknin’s language reinforces this: the EU is an “exclusive club,” NATO a “geopolitical insurance policy.” The word “empire” appears in multiple contexts: the Soviet “Evil Empire,” the “Switching Empires” of the title, and the “new Moscow” of EU bureaucracy. This lexical repetition creates a structural echo across essays. The book’s movement between scenes—from Copenhagen summits to Irish polling stations to Baltic fears—enacts the very fragmentation it describes.
Readers should approach The Belgian Curtain as a series of interlocking arguments rather than a unified thesis. The essays reward attention to recurring phrases and historical parallels. Vaknin’s tone is analytical but not dispassionate; the book’s structure—short, punchy sections—reflects its origin in journalism. For those interested in the mechanics of European integration, the text offers a skeptical counterpoint to official optimism, grounded in specific policy details and historical memory.
Reading The Belgian Curtain, I kept thinking about how slowly trust rebuilds after an empire falters. That quiet, stubborn suspicion between neighbors reminded me of an older dissolution—the Swedish-Norwegian break, so politely managed yet so deeply felt. Some fissures never fully seal; they just become part of the floor we walk on. The Swedish-Norwegian Union Crisis A History with Documents — A Reader’s Guide holds that same ache, documented gently, like a letter kept from a century ago.
There are no reviews for this eBook.
What did you think of this book?
Answer a few questions and save a private reflection on this device.