George Weigel examines the intersection and the birth of the “revolution of conscience”.

An excerpt.

Twenty-five years ago, on Jan. 27, 1989, a joint statement from the communist government of Poland, the Solidarity trade union, and the Catholic Church announced a national “Roundtable” to discuss the country’s future, including major structural issues of political and economic reform. The Roundtable began the following month; basic agreements were reached in April; partially-free elections, swept by Solidarity candidates, were held in June; and in September, a Solidarity leader, Tadeusz Mazowiecki, became Poland’s first non-communist prime minister since World War II.

Poland was the first of the Warsaw Pact dominos to fall. Its transition accelerated the Revolution of 1989, which was completed in late December 1989 with the swearing-in of Vaclav Havel, a political prisoner earlier in the year, as president of Czechoslovakia.

Over the past quarter-century, various theorists have tried to explain “1989,” typically focusing on the economic incapacities of communist regimes in the post-industrial age, the personality of Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev, or some combination of these two factors. No doubt the inability of state-centered, command economies to compete in a high-tech world had something to do with “1989”: so did the fact that Gorbachev, who came from a different generation of Soviet leaders, was unwilling to roll the tanks to maintain Stalin’s external empire. But to leave the analysis with economics and Gorbachev seems to ignore the larger historical question: Why did “1989” not involve massive bloodshed and violence, the usual 20th-century methods of effecting vast social change?

Let me suggest, once more, an answer.

Beginning with the 1992 publication of The Final Revolution, I have been arguing that “1989” was, at bottom, a revolution of conscience—a revolution of the human spirit. The essential character of that moral revolution was captured by Polish dissident Adam Michnik in a historical judgment that was also the ethical foundation of a political program: “People who begin by storming Bastilles end up building their own.” The leaders of “1989,” in other words, were determined that “1989” would not be a re-run of 1789. They wanted to build a future of freedom on a nobler foundation than the French revolutionary assertion of radical personal willfulness— which, after the real Bastille had been stormed, quickly turned into radical mob-led bloody-mindedness.

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