Luboš Rychvalský

* 1964

  • "We made a series of small actions back when it was not yet clear how the situation would develop. But we were thinking about a big one and preparing it, and that was to build an open-air museum in Bezpráví [meaning "injustice" in Czech, trans.]. As far as I remember, I was focused on that. There was the idea that we would bring symbols of totalitarianism to that village of Bezpráví and invite the government, quite seriously, to move to that location, build houses there, and stay there in a kind of open-air museum. This way, we wanted to create an open-air museum for the ruling elite. We had no information at that time that it would be different in December. We were planning to do it on 10 December [1989] on Human Rights Day. Establish the open-air museum. We had to get stone, stonemasons... I think Peter carved the inscription "Bezpráví"... I got some old posters, flyers, so we'd have some materials. Then November came along, and it disrupted our plans a bit, but it didn't take the wind out of our sails, the event actually took place on 10 December, the open-air museum was actually established. On 10 December, a large crowd went to the village of Bezpráví and we surprised the completely unprepared inhabitants with such a public happening without having settled property rights. There we laid the foundation stone. Then it went on, people from all over the country offered us huge hammers and sickles, or even sculptures of leaders of the past... But it failed because we were not willing to formalize the project. It was a nice idea, but it would have meant to start working on it intensively, to set up a regular company with all the proper requirements, to register it, to open an account, there would be money in it, we didn't want to do that. We always had an agreement that SVS would always be an imaginary company. The huge project would probably be nice today... The idea was that the sculptures would be taken there, or the ones that could be saved, so that they wouldn't be melted or broken, would be placed freely in the countryside and left to become overgrown with moss and ferns. That´s how it was worded. Then there would be tours and the children would be shown, 'This is Comrade Stalin, this is what happens when someone is an ugly and evil ruler.'"

  • "That was one of those jokes... Some initiative, I think it was Children of the Earth, organized a kind of quiet, inconspicuous, very nice demonstration: a promenade in Na Příkopech Street. We decided to disperse it. That we would imitate a police intervention. In a conspiracy, we created a security unit whose members made helmets out of melon rinds, batons out of cucumbers or salamis, baguettes, in short, anything that could be eaten, because we assumed that we would consume it afterwards. And we set off in a number of about six or seven policemen armed in a such way. I had borrowed a megaphone from the theatre fair - or Bára had borrowed it from the theatre people. It was just a theatrical prop. We called on the demonstrators to disperse. After which the demonstrators decided to beat us. So they overpowered us, they ate our batons. The only thing they left us was our helmets. And the police was watching and didn't stand up for us. We were actually doing their job for them, voluntarily, going to disperse these subversives. But they didn't stand up for us and let us get beaten up. Even our dog handler unit failed because the dogs were plastic. The demonstrators didn't get scared of them and didn't obey our call to stop the unauthorized demonstration. They kicked our asses. This was such a successful action where we imitated the intervention of the police force to bring public attention to the crazy injustice here."

  • "The most interesting and most secret event, which probably took the State Security quite by surprise, was in August [1989]: launching of a whale on the Vltava River. As a symbol of a calming down. At that time, that August 1989 smelled of a kind of tragedy, armies of policemen were preparing for a massive crackdown, they arrested dissidents before 21 August, they surrounded Prague. It seemed that if anyone dared to demonstrate, they would be severely and cruelly punished. There was even talk of shooting demonstrators. We were very worried and wanted to distract the security forces, to ease the tension with such a peaceful action. I think we probably had advertised it in advance because there were foreign TV crews waiting on the Charles Bridge. They were waiting to see how the whale would float down the Vltava. But I don't know how they found out about it. Whether we had announced it in advance... I know I built it in the garden out of wires, sticks, wire mesh and paper. I spent a week building it, the mock fish. Then I transported it on a cart past buses full of those white helmets [policemen]. That was one of the most remarkable events I can remember. Even the sad end of the model fish and the funny ending: I got a 100 crowns fine from the Fishermen's Union for... It came to a halt because of a completely senseless procedure. From the original charge of common endangerment, that if there had been a steamer on the Vltava... They threatened to charge me with common endangerment and it ended up at the Fishermen's Union. It was an amusing ending. The way the cops chased the fish down the Vltava and ended up trampling on it on the embankment, it was all comical. It served its purpose, it lightened the media tension. Such news was laughable compared to the bloody clashes with the police that were expected."

  • "We used to meet a few people, but we were quite critical towards them, we had clear opinions. We didn't like the fact that they were taking themselves too seriously, forming themselves into these structures, everyone was pushing through their own views... We showed that with one of our activities. That was really meant seriously. We thought that these initiatives should unite, not split. And at that time the split in the dissident scene was already considerable, they were quarrelling among themselves about who had the more refined political opinion. We kept ourselves more in the distance as sort of independent observers. If we wanted to express something... They didn't count on us either, they used to say: 'Now is not the time for fun. You're such jokers, there's no point in talking to you, you're just making fun.'"

  • "The Society for the Merrier Present (SVS) was founded completely spontaneously, out of a sense of futility. The SVS was founded a long time ago, or rather it has never been really founded. It was my idea, my copyright on the name Society for the Merrier Present, from the old days when I hadn´t even been in dissent, nor had I known there was any dissent. At that time, my friend from Karlovy Vary and I were corresponding, he ran a Society for the Slow-Witted, or something like that, and I had a Society for the Merrier Present. And as 'leaders' of these societies, we sometimes exchanged some post card, I titled myself as president of the SVS, Jindra titled himself as 'president of the Society for the Slow-Witted'. So the platform had already existed, but it had no rules at all. Then, when I met Bára and Petr Payne by chance on May 1, 1989, [we were] frustrated that nothing significant had happened, because we had wanted to stir up the society more, because we had expected something to happen in May, I put the idea on the table, that I had in my mind a continuous protest that would be uninterrupted and uninterruptible. We were working out a form of the protest. Then, I don't know which one of us, together we agreed that the ideal was to do... Originally I was thinking of a permanent bike ride around Prague. That there would always be cyclists with banners or t-shirts with slogans. The primary goal was the continuous, unstoppable protest. Which would be unstoppable based on the fact that the communist power wouldn´t have the tool to stop it, because riding bicycles is not a crime. That's the way we agreed on it on 1 May in Slavia Café. We set it in motion very quickly. From there, we went straight to Political Prisoners´ Street and there we started something that we had no idea what a huge response it would cause at that time. People were joining in massively. At that time and in that fear. So on 1 May 1989, we ran along the Political Prisoners´ Street and immediately we came up with the famous slogans 'Today we run for you, tomorrow you will run for us'. That was our spontaneous idea. We were supported and promoted by Free Europe and Voice of America [radio stations]. They announced it there, and because of that we expected that they [State Security] would break our door right away. It didn't happen. And based on the fact that they announced it, the next day we met other people who came running there."

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Celé nahrávky jsou k dispozici pouze pro přihlášené uživatele.

They told us, „This is no time for fun.“

Luboš Rychvalský at the recording
Luboš Rychvalský at the recording
zdroj: Post Bellum recording

Luboš Rychvalský, a chef who ran teahouses and restaurants, was born on 11 April 1964 in Karlovy Vary. He studied at the Secondary Technical Construction School in Loket and from the time of his secondary school studies he was involved in Karlovy Vary‘s alternative cultural life. He used to meet people involved in the local theatre and organize happenings. After finishing his military service at the construction unit at Ruzyně (1984-1986), he settled in Prague, where he worked as a stoker in the Botanical Garden, and later as a prop man at Czechoslovak Television. In the second half of the 1980s he obtained a travel permit and travelled to Morocco, where he gained experience in local kitchens and cooked Czech cuisine himself at various events. However, he broke the thirty-day validity period of the permit, so he faced police persecution after his return. When he refused to cooperate with State Security, his passport was confiscated. In the following months he worked as a night watchman in Žižkov in Prague and published the samizdat magazine Jazzstop. Thanks to the help of the Committee for the Defence of the Unjustly Prosecuted (VONS), he could get a lawyer and in January 1989 the court fined him 2000 CZK, which he paid with the help of the Committee. On May Day 1989, together with the actress Bára Štěpánová and the evangelical theologian Peter Payne, they founded the recessionist Society for the Merrier Present (Společnost pro veselejší současnost, SVS). Their first continuous happening was a run along Political Prisoners´ Street (Politických vězňů) under the slogan Today we run for you, tomorrow you will run for us. Dozens of people participated in the runs every day. Other happenings included, for example, a demonstration on boats on the Vltava River, a „police intervention“ by the recessionist Merry Security against a silent demonstration in Na Příkopě Street, or the launching of a model of a whale on the Vltava River on the eve of the anniversary of the invasion of the Warsaw Pact troops on 20 August 1989. The project of establishing a museum of totalitarianism in the village of Bezpráví [„injustice“ in Czech, trans.], planned for several months, ended with the laying of the foundation stone on 10 December 1989. Luboš Rychvalský took part in the demonstration in National Street on 17 November 1989, where he voluntarily got into a police van (this was also meant to be another happening). In the following days, by printing leaflets, he unintentionally participated in spreading of the false information about the death of Martin Šmíd, a student. He had received this information directly from Drahomíra Dražská. On New Year‘s Eve 1989, at the party hosted by the Havel couple at a Smíchov culture centre, he ran an oriental tea room, which inspired him to start a business in the 1990s: he founded a chain of Good Tea Shops across the country.