Slovakia’s political crisis is deepening as leaders abandon real governance for symbolic battles and divisive rhetoric, warns Pavol Hardoš, a prominent political theorist. While healthcare, education, and infrastructure crumble, politicians distract the public with emotive debates over cultural and identity issues, such as LGBT rights. This deflection not only betrays citizens’ trust but also fragments society, leaving it vulnerable to foreign influence. Lies and unkept promises have become normalised in a post-truth era, where leaders prioritise short-term power over accountability. Hardoš cautions that the erosion of liberal democratic principles, rising oligarchisation, and weakening political parties are turning Slovakia into a closed system that marginalises vulnerable groups and risks dismantling democratic norms altogether.
Pavol Hardoš, a political theorist and assistant professor at Comenius University in Bratislava, holds degrees in political science from the Faculty of Arts at Comenius University (Mgr.) and Central European University in Budapest (MA, PhD). Specialising in democratic theory, political representation, and modern political philosophy, Hardoš offers a sharp critique of Slovakia’s current political landscape.
Slovakia is grappling with a political crisis marked by the neglect of real socio-economic challenges, the erosion of democratic principles, and a troubling shift towards identity-driven, diversionary politics. According to Hardoš, the country’s politicians are abandoning substantial governance in favour of symbolic gestures and divisive rhetoric, which distract from their inability to address core issues.
Hardoš strongly criticises the systemic neglect of essential societal issues. Core failures, such as the unfinished Bratislava-Košice motorway, collapsing healthcare services, and an underfunded education system, have persisted for over a decade. Despite their profound impact on citizens’ lives, these problems are overshadowed by less significant debates, contributing to widespread disillusionment with governance. “It’s striking,” he observes, “that after more than a decade, Slovak politicians haven’t delivered on basic promises like infrastructure, while public pressure on them has all but evaporated.”
Rather than addressing these material challenges, Hardoš notes that Slovakia’s leaders have turned their attention to symbolic and cultural debates. Political discourse increasingly revolves around emotive topics like bear population control or opposition to LGBT rights. While these issues may hold some relevance, Hardoš argues they are often exaggerated or cynically employed to stoke division. “Instead of solving real problems, politicians offer symbolic policies—adding a sentence to the constitution or banning something symbolic—because it’s easier and faster than delivering real results,” he explains.
Fragmenting Society: A Gift to Foreign Influence
Hardoš also links this shift to the rise of a post-truth political environment, where factual accuracy no longer constrains rhetoric. Politicians frequently make false statements or fail to keep promises without facing significant consequences. Instead of diminishing credibility, lies and distortions are weaponised to antagonise perceived elites and galvanise supporters. According to Hardoš, this erosion of accountability undermines trust in governance and normalises dishonesty as a standard feature of political life.
Hardoš warns that the weakening of Slovakia’s liberal democratic framework further compounds the problem. Once-universal norms, such as the protection of minority rights, are increasingly under attack. Cultural and identity politics have been weaponised to target groups like the LGBT community, casting them as threats to “traditional values.” Hardoš notes that this divisive strategy not only marginalises vulnerable groups but also deepens societal fractures. “What we’re witnessing,” he says, “is a dangerous redefinition of who belongs in the democratic community, favouring some citizens while alienating others.”
The rise of oligarchisation and clientelism is another troubling trend identified by Hardoš. He highlights proposals like a €500,000 candidacy fee as evidence of the growing influence of wealth and political patronage. These measures threaten to turn Slovakia’s political landscape into a closed system, where only those with significant financial resources can participate. Hardoš warns that such developments erode public trust and reinforce systemic inequality.
Hardoš also critiques the decline of traditional political parties. Once-massive organisations with grassroots structures are now dominated by small groups of elites, focusing more on media presence and social media appeal than on policy or internal democratic processes. He laments the widening gap between politicians’ skills to win elections and their ability to govern effectively, noting that this transformation has stripped parties of their capacity to foster competent leadership.
This shift in priorities—away from substantial governance and towards symbolic politics—poses a long-term threat to Slovakia’s democratic principles. Hardoš cautions that while the rollback of expanded rights and freedoms has not yet occurred on a grand scale, the risk remains significant. Cultural backlash, combined with the erosion of liberal norms, could result in further marginalisation of vulnerable communities and a reversion to more restrictive societal models.
Hardoš paints a bleak picture of Slovakia’s political reality: systemic failure to address real challenges, a focus on cultural battles that divide rather than unite, and a pervasive sense of societal stagnation. He warns that unless these trends are reversed, Slovakia risks further disintegration of its democratic norms and an ever-widening gap between governance and the needs of its people.
Source: Braňo Dobšionský | Aktuality.sk
