Pavel Jungmann

* 1956

  • “Stanislav Devátý decided that he would not go to jail again. Meetings were already taking place at the border as part of Polish-Czechoslovak Solidarity, and so they agreed that he would hide in Poland. I wasn’t there for that, that went on in different formats. It was also funny because a farewell party was organised with two days of drinking at Bedřich’s place [Bedřich Koutný - ed.]. Well, they drank. I must say I didn’t take part in that much. Standa packed about three rucksacks. He had twenty books in one, a fur coat and boots in another. It was awfully heavy. It was our turn, and I said I’d take him. I had a rented car, and I was there in the morning, ringing at Bedřich Koutný’s door. Everyone was totally wasted, it was unbelievable. It was supposed to be secret, and half the neighbours were awake! Standa came out still a bit tipsy, lay down on the back seat in the car, and from time to time he would pull the window down and shout: ‘No rum, no hurry!’ We came to a place somewhere in the Jeseníky District, I have no idea where. We stopped by some stream.”

  • “It took us about three hours to walk up to the top. I thought I was done for. I was completely wet. I asked him what he had in his backpacks, and he started: the Dictionary of Foreign Words, the Bible, and all kinds of books. We each carried one pack. We climbed up to the top of the range and then went another ten or so kilometres along the ridge. Of course, the only people we met were a group from Zlín. They asked us what we were doing there, and we replied we were on a hike. With packs crammed full like we were moving somewhere. Utterly ridiculous. We came to a meadow, and every tree stump there had a chap sitting on it. I felt like I was in some kind of grotesque comedy, and I expected to be arrested at any moment. There was a narrow strip of meadow there and a path, and suddenly one of his Polish friends pulled at Standa from out of the bushes, telling him to get in the car, quick, so they could be off. Then I saw the cops homing in on us - I guess they hadn’t recognised us before that and had left us alone. So my wife and I said we were going back. One of the Poles rushed out and hung a computer, a laptop, around each of our necks. That was pretty unique at the time. No one had those. It was a big box in a bag, and I said great, that we could use those. They told us they were for [Petr] Pospíchal and [Petr] Cibulka, that we should take them to them.”

  • „Tam to bylo tak, že. Konkrétně ten Palachův týden probíhal tak, že jsme se setkaly, ty iniciativy, na Vinohradech v takové jedné z ulic, ale blízko nad, nad Muzeem bydlel ten pan Krob, který myslím, že ještě žije, přítel Havla. A u něho jsme jako měli ti mluvčí setkání a tam se domlouvalo, co se bude dít jako. Jak to bude a že půjdem s kytkama a tak dále. A co bude, jestli tam bude někdo něco říkat říkat. A náměstí už hučelo, to bylo vidět, že tam prostě bylo hodně lidí a. Já jsem tam tenkrát jel i se ženou, ale žena tam nešla a konkrétně, konkrétně mi potom říkala, že vlastně tam stála někde na té ulici před tím domem a viděla, jak tam jde Havel, a viděla, že už tam jedou policajti. Tak mu říkala: ,Ne, nechoďte tam, to jako špatně skončí.´ Tak. Havel šel potom, ale byl potom, myslím, že jako seděl, že za, konkrétně za toto. No a tak, najednou prostě tam vtrhli do toho bytu policajti. Nevím, jestli měli dokonce ty, ty obušky, ty helmy a to, a normálně nás začli tahat tam po schodech. A měli přistavené antony a jako k výslechu, že nás vezou. Ale tak my jsme jako. Ono to teď zní hrozně sebevědomě, ale my jsme to prožívali, ne jako dobrodružství, ale tak byli jsme všichni spolu, byli to bezvadní lidi, měl jste pocit, že nic neděláte, tak nezastřelí na místě, což tenkrát ještě se nedělo, aspoň u nás, tak jste měl pocit, že to prostě jako, že to tak je, a nějak jsme se nebáli, že jo. Oni nás odvezli na Mírák konkrétně. Pak v té Školské jsem slyšel, že tam lidi trpěli dost, že tam byli opřeni o zeď v kleče a nevím co, že jim tam dávali zabrat. Ale tady to bylo slušné. A byli jsme v takovém, v takové chodbě, která měla mříže, a vedle hned byly otevřené dveře, a teď jsme slyšeli ty vysílačky. Jako: ,Pozor, pozor, tady větší množství na, nevím, náměstí Krásnoarmějců, jeďte tam!´A teď jsme sledovali celý ten průběh z toho, jak oni to vysílaj. To bylo dobré. Vždycky jsme začal jako, jak se to daří. A pak, pak tam přicházeli další zatčení, takže vím, že jsme seděli s Jiřím Hájkem, což byl ministr zahraničních věcí v osmašedesátém, tuším, a hrozně dobrý chlapík. Pak dokonce tady přijel na Občanské fórum za náma, tak to bylo příjemné. A pak prostě pro mě jako příjemné setkání s Václavem Malým, biskupem. Který byl tenkrát jako, neměl státní souhlas, takže jako, jako disident, tam byl prostě. No ale tak my když na to vzpomínáme s Bedřichem, tak že to je jeden s nejkrásnějších zážitků. Že jsme prostě byli s těma lidma, které máme rádi, a že se to podařilo nějakým způsobem. Oni nás pustili, tak jsme myslím ve tři nebo ve čtyři hodiny jeli vlakem domů a vykládali jsme, jaký to bylo."

  • „Mně se stala třeba příhoda, že jsme s tím Petrem Bartošem, který byl taky mluvčí té, té iniciativy SPUSA, jsme byli sáňkovat s dětma. Jsem měl tak tříletou dceru možná. Ano, tříletou. A tady, na takovém svahu prostě za městem. A jezdili jsme tam na sáňkách a teď a vidím, že tam jede policejní auto. Někde, ale jako vyloženě prostě dole, kde dojížděly ty sáňky, jo. Úplně absurdní místo. Já říkám, tam jsou nějací policajti. Teď oni normálně se začali ptát lidí a ti ukazovali na nás. Přišli a říkali: ,Pojedete s námi.´ Já říkám: ,To jste se zbláznili, já tady mám děcko.´ ,Zařiďte si hlídání, to tady nechte, vrátíte se.´ Jako, jo. Tak nás normálně odvezli prostě, v neděli to bylo. Byli tam prostě nějací přátelé, takže to, obě dvě ty sáňky s těma dcerama tam, obojí tam zůstaly a dcery tam zůstaly. Odvezli nás na radnici. To si pamatuju, v neděli, že tady na radnici byly takové mříže, kterými byl zavřený celý ten vchod, takže tam přišel nějaký chlapík, otevřel ty mříže. Byli tam z estébé někdo, ti policajti, a nějaký pracovník prostě té radnice. Nevím vůbec, kdo to byl. Prostě nám přinesl papír, že zakazují tu manifestaci, ať to podepíšeme. My jsme říkali: ,My nic podepisovat nebudem prostě.´ Jo, že to zakazují a že ve své podstatě nesem zodpovědnost za to, že to bude. Tak jsme nic nepodepsali, tak jako, nevím, z jakého důvodu, prostě nás pustili a já jsem šel po hodině a půl nebo po dvou jsem šel pro to děcko. A jeli jsme tam prostě."

  • “I got into a dispute there. I think it was in 1981 [1980 - ed.], when we were to go to Poland, when Solidarity was there. They raised the regiment and drove to the Polish borders; Poland was to be occupied. The whole army mobilised to suppress Solidarity. I was the only one to refuse at the time. That was strong stuff, prosecution material. Except the absurdity of the situation... They told me they needed me for typewriting, so they didn’t sent me there and didn’t report me. I stayed behind with some officer and was put to writing non-stop. Then they kind of forgot about it. Well, I was investigated by counter-intel, and they tried to break me into joining them, but I withstood that somehow.”

  • “We had a meeting in Litovel. People came in from all over, we had booked a pub there, where we’d eat and some people would lodge for the night. We met in the forest the afternoon before. I was in charge of informing about what was going on in the Society of Friends of the USA and about the SPUSA Magazine. People sat around me in a circle in a forest meadow, and suddenly I saw movement of a large number of people with white heads. They made slow progress, and I reckoned they were probably pensioners, seeing that they all had white heads. It was a riot squad with white helmets and shields. They came up against us, said we were arrested and that we were to immediately come down to where they had buses waiting. They filmed us, we had to say our names before they took us away. I didn’t like the way some of our boys reacted. They [the SPUSA people - trans.] told them we had booked lunch and that we wouldn’t pay for it unless we could eat it. They said they’d wait. So half of the people went into the pub, where they drank and had lunch. And you could hear: ‘Three rums and another vodka.’ They [the police - trans.] told us that wasn’t what we had agreed on. Then there was someone who tried to escape through the toilet window. Simply absurd. Then they took us in their Antons and buses to Olomouc to be interrogated, and that was some strong stuff. That was probably the worst interrogation of all. I was suffering from some health problems at the time and had pills with me. They yelled at me: ‘You cunt, you’ve got a nerve! We pay for your health and you go up against the regime!?’”

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I was always more interested in literature, samizdat then political opposition

Pavel Jungmann
Pavel Jungmann
photo: Archiv Vladimíra Trlidy

Pavel Jungmann was born on 16 May 1956 in Zlín (called Gottwaldov at the time). He graduated from grammar school and then from the Secondary Vocational School of Librarianship. He was expelled from the last year of Information and Library Studies at Charles University for distributing samizdat. After school he worked as the manager of a second-hand bookshop in Gottwaldov, where he came in touch with the people around Stanislav Devátý. He participated in the opposition to the totalitarian Communist regime. He was one of the founders and also the spokesman of the Society of Friends of the USA (SPUSA). He was in charge of the editing and typography of the samizdat SPUSA Magazine; he helped print numerous other samizdat materials, took part in demonstrations and other anti-regime activities, co-authored several petitions and letters of protest addressed to state institutions, and helped Stanislav Devátý escape over the border to what was then already a free Poland. This was not without repercussions. He was under State Security surveillance and was held in forty-eight-hour provisional detention several times. In 1989 he was one of the founding members of the Civic Forum in Zlín. He later left the second-hand bookshop and successfully managed the publishing house Archa for many years. As of 2017, he lives in Zlín-Kostelec.