2025年1月下旬，为了抗议东南欧国家零售商品的高昂物价，东南欧国家爆发了一场声势浩大的反投机倒把运动。在这场运动中，东南欧人民纷纷开始抵制零售商店和超市的商业，改为使用网络购物。1月24日，克罗地亚率先爆发了大规模的群众抵制运动，零售业发票数量当日下降44%，总营收下降更是有53%之多。这次抵制还从零售商业蔓延到了其它部门，导致所有部门的发票数量与总支出分别减少29%和36%。如此明显的销售量下降，充分证明了克罗地亚人民对黑心奸商投机倒把，操纵物价的痛恨和他们反投机倒把的决心。
面对克罗地亚人民的抵制，资本家仍然不愿意让步，继续维持居高不下的物价，妄图继续掠夺人民的血汗来大发横财。因此，作为回应，克罗地亚人民分别于1月30日、1月31日继续抵制零售商业，导致零售商业遭受更大的损失。
克罗地亚人民的斗争迅速传播到了附近的东南欧各国，得到了东南欧其他国家人民的热烈支持。东南欧在欧洲本就经济落后，人民生活尤其贫苦，但投机倒把却有增无减，在东欧的修正主义政权垮台，代表欧美帝国主义利益的资产阶级自由派买办分子上台后更是如此。面对经济的不断恶化，东南欧人民早就已经对无比猖獗的投机倒把深痛恶绝。因此运动一经爆发，就在东南欧诸国一呼百应。1月31日，前南斯拉夫各国，如塞尔维亚、波斯尼亚和黑塞哥维那、黑山、北马其顿、斯洛文尼亚等均与克罗地亚同时爆发了声势浩大的反投机倒把运动。此外，东南欧的其它国家，如阿尔巴尼亚、保加利亚、匈牙利、斯洛伐克等也同样受到影响，这些国家的人民也一同加入了这场反对投机倒把的大串联之中。至2月初，东南欧反投机倒把运动已经星火燎原，对东南欧国家的零售商业造成了严重的打击。
面对人民团结起来反对投机倒把的庞大力量，东南欧各国的买办资产阶级及其奴仆一方面恨得要命，千方百计扑灭这场运动，另一方面又不敢直接与人民为敌，只得采取篡夺领导权，将运动引向改良主义的方式来扑灭运动。在这场运动的开始，克罗地亚人民反投机倒把运动的领导权就掌握在一个名为“Halo, inspektore”的Facebook群组手里。这个群组阶级成分鱼龙混杂，其领导者多为软弱妥协的小资产阶级。因此，这场运动并未超出经济斗争的范围。而克罗地亚政府在人民的斗争浪潮面前，虽迫于压力不敢直接反对，假惺惺地宣布实际上无用的所谓“冻结70种消费品物价”，但是却根本没有作出实际有效的行动——提高最低工资，让劳动人民能够买到更多自己生产出来的商品。此外，克罗地亚的各色资产阶级政党，如“克罗地亚社会民主党”、“我们可以！”、“祖国运动”等也纷纷趁机混入运动，争相篡夺运动的领导权，利用克罗地亚人民的反抗来为自己捞取政治资本。在其它东南欧国家，资产阶级也用大同小异的伎俩来企图瓦解东南欧人民反投机倒把的运动，导致这一运动时至今日已经出现了难以维继的颓势，即使东南欧各国的零售商到目前也还没有作出任何让步！
最后，还必须指出东南欧人民反投机倒把运动的意义。这场运动首先是又一次戳穿了一切反共自由派分子关于苏修殖民帝国崩溃后的“新自由主义”能够给人民带来“美好”生活的神话，更是揭穿了欧洲帝国主义者大肆宣扬的“欧洲联盟”的一切关于“合作共赢”的谎言，证明所谓“欧洲联盟”，不过是让欧洲帝国主义者大发横财，让欧洲广大人民——尤其是东南欧等欧洲殖民地国家的人民——只能陷入暗无天日的人间地狱的帝国主义分赃工具，再一次验证了“资本主义就是我们的灾难！”这一真理。其次，它反映了人民群众中间蕴藏着的强大力量，说明只要被压迫阶级只要能够作为一个整体团结起来，尤其是实现被压迫人民之间的国际联合，就能够给资本主义造成巨大的打击。第三，这场运动说明，无产阶级和一切被压迫阶级只有在无产阶级的核心——共产党的领导下才能有效地组织起来，发挥出人民群众中间蕴藏的庞大力量。这场运动之所以至今都没有能够迫使资产阶级作出让步，并不是由于人民群众只能做到这一步，而仅仅是由于运动在资产阶级的操纵下陷入了纯粹经济斗争的泥潭，没有能够旗帜鲜明地打出反对资产阶级反动政治的革命旗号，在政治上排斥资产阶级分子的干扰和篡权活动，在思想上肃清各种投降主义的流毒。第四，这场运动说明，只有以彻底革命和彻底科学的马克思主义思想为指导，自觉地反对资本主义，才能真正在斗争中改善人民的生活。这场运动本身的局限性就在于仅仅要求零售商降低商品价格，却没有同时提出要提高工人的最低工资，增强人民的消费能力。因此，即使最后零售商真的降低了商品价格，资产阶级也能够通过同时降低工人工资的手段来进行反攻倒算，让实际工资的下降幅度超过商品价格的下降幅度，从而令人民群众的斗争成果在顷刻之间化为乌有。
这场运动如今还在不断继续着。不论这场运动的最终结果如何，它都有力地证明东南欧人民从来就没有屈服于帝国主义、资本主义的压迫，有着敢于斗争，敢于胜利的革命精神。曾在第二次世界大战时为世界反法西斯事业作出卓越贡献的东南欧人民必将继承过去的革命传统，再一次打倒压在他们头上的反动统治，让社会主义重新出现在欧洲的大地上。
10 Likes
May I ask, what is the background of this movement, and why do retail goods in Southeastern European countries have phenomena of speculation and profiteering leading to high prices?
The phenomenon of speculation and profiteering actually appeared long before these countries experienced capitalist restoration. However, after the collapse of the Soviet Union, the bourgeois liberal class that came to power became even more reactionary, leading to an increase in speculation and profiteering under the guise of “neoliberalism.” High prices have also been a persistent issue since the collapse of the Soviet Union and have worsened over time. The recent movement is simply a result of prices becoming even higher after the economic crisis outbreak in 2020, reaching a level that the working people can no longer bear. In fact, opposition has never ceased; most of the time, the bourgeoisie deliberately covers up and prevents the voices of opposition from spreading.
https://www.zhihu.com/question/318496657/answer/3452208166
1 Like
This farce began in February of that year, when a large number of Bulgarians were forced to flood the streets of Sofia to protest the sharp increase in winter electricity bills. This was because Bulgaria’s electricity distributors, as foreign monopoly enterprises, unilaterally raised the electricity prices in the poorest EU country. Now, the vulnerable groups receiving pensions in this country have had to make limited choices between heating, lighting, medicine, and food. Soon, the unrest evolved from initial protests against monopolies and high electricity bills, advocating for nationalization of the electricity sector, into large-scale demonstrations in front of the parliament, where Bulgarians demanded the resignation of then-Prime Minister Boyko Borisov. One man held up an impressive poster that read: “Wages 270 lev, heating 300 lev, electricity 220 lev, water 120 lev: how much longer?”, revealing the dire situation Bulgarians found themselves in at that time.
Under immense social pressure, the Prime Minister chose to resign and call for new elections. Media commentators shamelessly called this the “Bulgarian Spring,” believing it signaled Bulgaria would shake off the long quagmire after the Eastern European upheaval and move towards a brighter future — but not everyone was so optimistic, especially when the departure of one or two politicians would not bring substantial changes to life. The intensity of the protests quickly increased. On February 18, 2013, 26-year-old unemployed environmentalist and social activist Traian Marechkov went to a crossroads and poured gasoline over his head. Witnesses said Marechkov waved to rescuers as he was engulfed in flames. According to a Bulgarian newspaper, Marechkov’s last words were: “I give my life for the people, family, and Bulgaria, hoping that politics and the government will improve people’s living standards.” Two days later, he died in hospital.
Also on that day (February 20), a 36-year-old photographer and protest leader Plamen Goranov climbed onto the steps of the municipal hall in Varna. He placed a sign on the ground demanding the resignation of the mayor of Varna — believed to be closely linked to powerful local mafia interests. According to CCTV footage and witnesses, Goranov had pre-informed security that he planned to self-immolate. He then laid a canvas on the ground, poured five liters of gasoline over his head, and struck a match, engulfing himself in flames. Eleven days later, Goranov died on Bulgaria’s Independence Day, which commemorates the end of five centuries of Ottoman Turkish rule. Under international shock and pressure, the Varna mayor was forced to resign.
But soon, on February 26, six days after Goranov’s death, a 53-year-old unemployed man named Ventsislav Vasilev stormed into Radovo’s municipal office, demanding a job for himself and his family. It should be noted that Vasilev was a father of five adult children. His family of seven relied on sporadic social benefits and odd jobs, barely surviving through the winter. Vasilev desperately wanted any job and pleaded with local authorities for help — his 22-year-old son Allen later told reporters that it was not the inflated electricity bills of January 2013 that pushed his father to the brink, but the water bill (Vasilev faced a lawsuit from the Stara Zagora water company over an unpaid bill of 215 euros). Ultimately, Vasilev received only a cruel rejection from the authorities, which led him to set himself on fire inside the municipal building. On March 10, the hospital announced Vasilev’s death.
Not long after, on March 22, another 40-year-old unemployed construction worker, Todor Iovchev, set himself on fire in the town of Silistra. He borrowed 4 lev from his girlfriend to fill plastic bottles with gasoline, then went to a stadium on the outskirts of town to carry out his act. Witnesses said that after igniting himself, Iovchev cried out in pain and tried to roll on the ground to extinguish the flames. But it was too late. He later died of organ failure at the Varna Naval Hospital. Unsurprisingly, Bulgarian newspapers reported that Iovchev’s suicide was caused by poverty, unemployment, and resulting family problems.
Throughout the remainder of 2013, Bulgaria experienced several similar self-immolation incidents. One particularly notable case was 31-year-old Georgi Kostov from Dimitrovgrad — a city born during Bulgaria’s communist era and built entirely by volunteer labor teams in the 1950s. On June 5, just after midnight, Kostov doused himself with gasoline at home in front of his wife, sister, and his 4- and 10-year-old sons, then set himself on fire. He had borrowed 12,000 lev (6,000 euros) to buy his apartment, but a few months earlier, his employer unexpectedly fired him, rendering him unemployed. Unable to find new work, Kostov became anxious. Compound interest and penalties meant his debt kept growing, and he often quarreled with his wife over money. After months of debt, threatening letters arrived, becoming increasingly aggressive. Kostov feared imprisonment or that gangsters might come to kill him or his family.
It is worth emphasizing that the rampant mafia in Bulgaria and other Eastern European countries after the fall of communism was beyond imagination. The immense pressure ultimately broke him. When Kostov was engulfed in flames, his wife Tanka rushed over and tried to embrace him, hoping to extinguish the fire. But her clothes caught fire, and she also started burning. Kostov’s sister poured water on the couple to try to put out the flames, while his young nephews screamed nearby. Emergency personnel eventually took Kostov to the hospital, where he was burned over 30% of his body; Tanka’s burns covered 10%. Surgeons treated both. Perhaps thanks to family help and timely rescue, the two boys neither lost their mother nor their father — and they still owed the 12,000 lev debt, which had grown due to medical expenses and overdue bills.
Such incidents in Bulgaria were not limited to 2013. For example, in 2014, police found the charred body of 29-year-old Desislava Koleva in Pernik — again after neighbors reported a strange smell and called for investigation. Koleva left a suicide note in her diary, explaining that she had set herself on fire in her garage to avoid damaging anyone’s property. She also wrote that she was exhausted from poverty. Neighbors reported that Koleva had recently gone to the local emergency room to remove lice from her legs. When medical staff admitted her, they found she had no 10 lev (about 5 euros) for treatment and unceremoniously turned her out onto the street. It’s easy to imagine that Koleva, alone, could no longer bear such despair.
Why did they do this? Why choose such painful ways to end their lives? Perhaps, three days after Vasilev’s death, the example of 52-year-old Dimitar (who self-immolated in front of the presidential palace but was rescued in time by guards and doctors, later giving an interview to reporters) more fully reflects the answer. Dimitar had lived his first half under the communist regime, and the second half under what Bulgarians call the democratic system after 1989 — and like many compatriots, Dimitar once believed that so-called democracy would improve their quality of life. But the reality of the next 25 years shattered his hopes: “Under communist rule, I had to wake up at 5 a.m., queue for milk and bread for my children. Under this government, I am a blacksmith until my workshop closed. The work to support my family disappeared. Later, I couldn’t even afford electricity. During communism, we had money but nothing to buy. Now, we can buy everything, but we have no money.”
We should know that, unlike the Western assurances during the fall of communism, until 2013, the average monthly salary in Bulgaria was only about 400 euros (520 dollars), totaling just over 6,000 dollars annually. According to research by social institutions, at least 43% of Bulgarians were in “severe material deprivation,” meaning they could not afford at least four of the following nine items: (1) rent or utilities, (2) sufficient winter heating, (3) unexpected expenses (such as medical bills or necessary medicines), (4) eating meat, fish, or other protein-rich foods at least once every two days, (5) a weekly holiday, (6) a car, (7) a washing machine, (8) a color TV, or (9) a phone or mobile phone.
More precisely, according to relevant research reports, 21% of Bulgarians faced the risk of poverty and social exclusion, meaning they survived on only 60% of the median national income, which in 2013 was 240 euros (312 dollars) per month. Given this, it’s not surprising that people couldn’t afford cars, TVs, or washing machines. Despite Bulgaria’s lowest average annual income among EU countries, prices were still high, making these items expensive for Bulgarians. Consequently, young people with conditions and educated individuals chose to flee Bulgaria for the West in search of better lives. Before taking action, Dimitar experienced the deception and pain of this social transformation.
The self-immolation event in Varna inspired Dimitar. He described the hours before igniting the lighter, expressing his desire to do something for his daughter’s bright future:
“I decided to do this the day before. Prime Minister Boyko Borisov had just resigned, new elections were announced, and I was tired of it all. So I decided to commit suicide in front of the presidential palace. I woke up early, drank coffee with my wife. I was determined but didn’t tell her. Then I went to the store to buy a bottle of beer. I drank it with neighbors. I went to a gas station to fill up, then poured the gasoline into an empty vodka bottle. I took the train to the city center, wandered around. Around 10 a.m., I walked until 1:30 p.m. During that time, I drank a beer alone at an unknown bar. I have a daughter, and I thought of her. Her life isn’t too bad, but I hope she can live like an American girl. I thought that if she could have a better life, it would be worth not having a father. People shouldn’t live in constant decline.”
When asked by a reporter why he chose self-immolation instead of shooting himself in front of the presidential palace, Dimitar replied: “I don’t want to die simply. We held so many protests, and they are still ongoing, but nothing has changed. No change. I don’t want anything from Bulgarian politicians. I hope the whole world, like you, can look at our country with cautious eyes. When Plamen Goranov committed suicide, he used self-immolation to drive away the mayor of Varna. I want to overthrow the entire system.”
In another interview with BBC, Dimitar reiterated that he hoped to contribute to his country. “I believe I have achieved my goal,” he told reporter Tom Esslemont. “I may be a fool, but I hope this can change everything here.” Despite the Bulgarian government deleting all his social media accounts, fearing his words would influence other disillusioned Bulgarians, Dimitar still saw himself as their spokesperson, hoping to make some change to the despair of the country — but the harsh reality was that, as of November 2016, Boyko Borisov remained Bulgaria’s Prime Minister. Bulgaria was still the poorest EU country, with the monopoly power company demanding higher electricity prices, and all prices except oil remained high. The result of these “hardcore” actions by sacrificing lives was that nothing had changed.
Just finished reading, the cited material incorrectly assumes that Bulgaria before 1989 was under a communist system and focuses on a small group of people self-immolating. But I want to ask, how do you view the act of self-immolation? Is it a weak resistance guided by petty-bourgeois ideas?
Yes, it only indicates a general dissatisfaction with capitalism and also shows that petty bourgeois ideas have a significant influence among the masses, nothing more. However, it has not led to further resistance due to the lack of leadership from a revolutionary party.