Highlights of national history? Constitutional memory and the preambles of post-communist constitutions

ABSTRACT

This article presents a comparative perspective of the preambles in the post-communist constitutions of former Soviet Bloc countries. We follow the view that constitutional memory , i.e. history through legislation in a constitution, is a form of public and institutional memory, which is the object of a variety of intensely manipulative pursuits. The central questions focus on how particular countries use history in their preambles, and how these states represent themselves. Empirically, the article addresses and compares the 29 current preambles of the successor states of the former Soviet Bloc. We argue that excessive and exclusionary use of history in constitutions becomes a significant tool in identification and identity building, which can even compromise critical academic historiography. In the light of the preambles, the longer the national history, the better. Moreover, we claim that until recent years, signs of US post-1989 hegemony can even be read in several post-communist preambles. In general, the public histories of nation states are not composed of just a single imagination, but of a multitude of competing opinions. Therefore, a comprehensive historical perspective is needed to build a broad and balanced narrative of the past, an issue not well suited for the introductory parts of constitutions.

KEYWORDS:

• Constitutions
• preambles
• use of history
• memory
• post-communism
• nationalism

Notes

1 In comparison, it would be absurd to claim that the same phenomenon of memory laws in general – or constitutional preambles in particular – is not present universally in both the East and the West (see e.g. Soroka & Krawatzek, 2019, pp. 162–163). After all, even the Treaty on European Union (2007) includes a preamble that makes references – even if the matter was debated strongly before the treaty was accepted – to the religious and cultural heritage of Europe and the political division and its end in Continental Europe (Nyyssönen, 2013; Pakier & Stråth, 2010). Also, several constitutions of individual member states – such as France (1958/2008), Germany (2014), Ireland (1937/2015), Portugal (1974/2005) and Spain (1978/2011) have a preamble. However, in line with our argument, most of the Western European states do not have a constitutional preamble (outside the EU, but still inside the ‘West’, Switzerland (1999/2016) has a preamble, Iceland (1999/2013) and Norway (1814/2016) do not). More importantly the different historical and political experience(s) between Western Europe and the former Soviet Bloc have had a major impact on the matter of memory laws. The developments that can be seen as the long historical political progress in the West, have naturally been very different – even non-existent – or have occurred at a different pace in the East, so in this sense, the East is indeed different (cf. Koposov, 2018, pp. 59, 130).

2 The unification of Germany has naturally eliminated the constitution of the German Democratic Republic from this group.

3 It is important to underline our understanding of the difference between political legacy and political tradition: political legacy is a hypernym and tradition a hyponym, meaning legacy is something destined by the past in a much more comprehensive manner and tradition is something that is suitable and selected from this larger context. Naturally the questions concerning traditions and their background is a profoundly political question, even without a turbulent political history as is the case in many of the states of the former Soviet Bloc with the often-haunting memories of the past. Even though we consider political traditions as merely preferred aspects of the past, we do not go as far as Hobsbawm and Ranger (1983) have gone in underlining the invented nature of many traditions. To us the question is not about the invented or genuine nature of any tradition, but about the fact that political traditions of any polity are a much more concise interpretation of the past than the political legacy of the same polity. As we have stated elsewhere (Nyyssönen & Metsälä, 2018a) ‘whereas legacy is given, although not always remembered, a tradition is more actively selected and commemorated’.

4 Eric Heinze (2017) divides memory laws into two different categories: declaratory and regulatory. In this context constitutional preambles are definitely more of a declaratory than a regulatory nature. However, the nature of other memory laws is beyond the scope of this paper, albeit the existence of them should be acknowledged. All in all, history through legislation, can be separated into two on the basis of whether they deny or commemorate historical objects or events. Timothy Garton Ash (2016, pp. 25–30) has highlighted the importance of the possibility to exchange and examine ideas freely, even if those ideas are incorrect or even dishonest. The prime example in this context has been the debate on Holocaust denial, which has been criminalised in at least 14 member states of the EU, starting from France in 1990. In the eastern part of Europe, the criminalisation of Holocaust denial has been joined with the criminalisation of the denial of crimes perpetrated during the socialist era. Garton Ash argues, quite radically, that these laws are harmful and potentially threaten the ideals of free speech and critical study of history. In his opinion, it is not the function of the state to impose or coerce certain interpretations of history by legal ways, but to express moral judgements by encouraging the free and truthful study of the past and to assure the freedom of speech for all (Garton Ash, 2016, pp. 25–35; cf. Tuomioja, 2016, p. 6).

5 There have been several studies written on the theory and practice of the construction of ‘we’ in the study of sociology, nationalism, identity or feminism – by scholars such as Michael Billig, Gerard Delanty, Stuart Hall or Judith Butler – but these issues are not the main question here.

6 In the words of the president of Hungary and contemporary witness of the changes, László Sólyom, the old 1949 constitution was amended in 1989 to the extent that all that remained was the statement of Budapest being the capital of Hungary (cf. Miklóssy & Nyyssönen, 2018, pp. 322–333).

Additional information

Funding

This article has received financial support from the Ella and Georg Ehrnrooth Foundation and Kone Foundation.