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<text> <title> Eastern Europe Goes To Market </title> <article> <hdr> Foreign Policy, Spring 1992 Eastern Europe Goes to Market </hdr> <body> By Mark Kramer, a research fellow at Brown University's Center for Foreign Policy Development and a fellow of Harvard University's Russian Research Center. The collapse of communist rule in Eastern Europe in the autumn of 1989 brought with it widespread euphoria about the prospects for democratic change and economic prosperity. By the start of 1992, however, the optimism of 1989 had been supplanted by a sense of gloom. This deepening pessimism stemmed in part from the resurgence of old political rivalries and national conflicts, including the bloody civil war in Yugoslavia and the turbulent dissolution of the Soviet Union. As Western Europe moved toward greater political and economic integration, Eastern Europe faced disintegration and internecine warfare. Even if these ethnic and political fissures had remained submerged, the growing public awareness in Eastern Europe of the region's economic plight would have been enough to sustain a mood of pessimism. The task of replacing dysfunctional state-controlled economies with viable free-market systems would have been formidable under the best of circumstances. In Eastern Europe, the task has been further complicated by a series of external economic shocks and by the lack of clear guidance from past experience. Although previous transitions from authoritarianism to democracy in Latin America, the Iberian countries, and Greece are instructive, the economic and political challenges facing Eastern Europe have no ready parallel in modern history. The East European countries find themselves embarking on a painful and prolonged economic transformation without any guarantee that their sacrifices will pay off in the end--but with the risk of growing social and political unrest. Official statistics in all the East European countries paint a grim picture of the first two years of postcommunist transitions, revealing substantial declines in both production and living standards. Advocates of a cautious approach to reform widely cite these statistics, claiming that the cure of "shock therapy" is killing the patient. In reality, the gloomy statistics tell only part of the story and, in some respects, are highly misleading. The decline in production in each country came exclusively in the inefficient state sector, where most of what was lost would have had no place in a viable free-market economy. Moreover, the production statistics often understate the growth and vibrancy of the private sector, especially the rise of small-scale entrepreneurs. In Poland, for example, some 1.4 million private businesses opened between December 1989 and December 1991, and their impact on the economy is not always given due weight by statisticians. Official data showing a precipitous drop in living standards and a sharp rise in unemployment are misleading as well. These figures do not adequately reflect qualitative improvements in peoples lives, such as the disappearance of lines and the improved quality of consumer goods and services. Nor do the figures take into account money people earn in the private sector but fail to report in order to avoid paying taxes. The statistics also exaggerate unemployment, counting as unemployed those who actually work in the "second," or unofficial, economy. The unemployment figures also include people who in previous years had been paid wages for work they never performed. The disguised unemployment of the communist era has now simply been acknowledged. In short, from an economic standpoint, the initial results of the postcommunist transitions are less discouraging than the official statistics indicate. From a political standpoint, however, the situation is altogether different. In the political arena, the actual (or projected) achievements of the economic reforms matter less than the public perception of those achievements. On this score, there seems little basis for optimism. The electoral results in Poland in October 1991, the sporadic demonstrations against price increases in Hungary, the labor unrest and widening ethnic division in Czechoslovakia, and the violent rampages by miners in Romania all bear witness to growing popular discontent with the hardships and austerity that economic reform requires. The basic question for the East European countries over the next few years is whether the proponents of economic shock therapy will survive the political fallout of their reforms and, if not, what the consequences of a gradual approach or even outright failure might be. Why have the post communist economic transitions in Eastern Europe encountered such difficulty, and what might be done to improve the situation? Four basic problems have complicated the economic transformation of these countries: disruption of foreign trade, the ambiguity of property rights, worker resistance, and uncertainty about the appropriate sequencing of reforms. The first category refers to the external climate for reform, whereas the second, third, and fourth categories concern internal matters. These four problems are not the only ones that the postcommunist states have confronted, but they are the most important and they bear, at least indirectly, on all other obstacles to the creation of free-market systems. Trade Shocks From the late 1940s until 1989, the Soviet Union was by far the largest trading partner of all the countries in the region. The East European states depended heavily on Soviet supplies of energy and raw materials, and many East European firms relied on the USSR as their main customer for finished goods. By contrast, the USSR, as a largely autarkic state, depended relatively little on its imports from Eastern Europe and could easily shift its exports of energy and raw materials to the West. Soon after the upheavals of 1989, Soviet-East European trade began to crumble. In 1990 the Soviet Union reduced its deliveries of oil and natural gas to Eastern Europe and sought to export more to the West for hard currency. Starting in January 1991, the USSR and East European countries replaced the transferable ruble with the U.S. dollar as the basis for all transactions. This change, carried out at Soviet insistence, forced the East European and Soviet governments to use world- market prices for the goods they traded (including Soviet oil), thus ending the artificial pricing system that have long existed within the council for Mutual Economic Assistance (COMECON). Fittingly enough, COMECON, which had been moribund since late 1989, was formally disbanded in June 1991. This shift to hard-currency financing not only forced the East Europeans states to pay more for Soviet energy supplies and raw materials; it also deprived them of vital markets. Because Soviet officials and enterprise managers for the most part had to use scarce hard currency reserves to pay for East European goods, they chose instead to buy what they needed from Western suppliers, whose products were of much better quality and only slightly more expensive. The resulting decline in orders for the USSR for East European products dealt a sharp blow to East European firms as yet unable to compete in Western markets. In the first quarter of 1991, Czechoslovak and Hungarian exports to the Soviet Union fell by 80 percent, and for the year as a whole they declined by nearly the same amount, despite a partial return to barter trade in the second half of 1991. The drop in Polish exports to the USSR was almost as steep, around 60 percent. The reductions particularly hurt pharmaceutical, transportation, cosmetics, and food processing industries, leaving them with warehouses of unsold goods that were unmarketable in the West. The growing chaos in the Soviet economy further disrupted Soviet-East European trade. By mid-1991, most of the USSR's foreign trading responsibilities had devolved to enterprises and republic governments, but many of the enterprises did not have enough hard currency to pay for imports from both Western and Eastern Europe. Consequently, they fell far behind in their payments to East European suppliers, and the republic governments declined to cover the debts for them. The growing unreliability of Soviet enterprises prompted East European firms to withhold further supplies to the USSR in the absence of bank guarantees, which proved difficult to obtain. This credit cutoff prevented additional financial losses for Eastern Europe, but it did nothing to bolster export opportunities or recover outstanding Soviet debts. The erosion of trade with the USSR in the first half of 1991 was the most serious of the external shocks to the East European economies, but other developments also contributed to the turmoil. Trade with the German Democratic Republic (GDR), especially important for Czechoslovakia and Poland, came to an end with the reunification of East and West Germany in October 1990. Until then, the GDR had provided markets for East European agricultural and industrial goods and had been a major supplier of scarce industrial components and high-technology products. Following German reunification, Czechoslovakia and Poland temporarily lost access to these markets and supplies. Further, the German-based companies frequently outmaneuvered their East European competitors in the quest for Soviet and Western markets. Thus, the demise of the GDR cut into Eastern European trade from two angles. In addition to the disruption of trade caused by German reunification, trade among all the East European countries dropped sharply for several months after the shift to hard- currency accounting within COMECON. The same considerations that induced Soviet managers to cut back on imports from Eastern Europe led the Eastern European countries themselves to forgo purchases from one another. To help ease the problem, Czechoslovakia, Hungary, and Poland tentatively agreed in December 1991 to phase out customs duties, quantitative restrictions, and other trade barriers among themselves. The agreement, however, could not redeem the damage that had already been done, nor could it immediately revive trade among the three. East European trade also suffered as a result of the United Nations-sponsored embargo against Iraq. Iraq had been a major trading partner for Eastern Europe, and several countries in the region lost hundreds and millions of dollars in uncollected debt and unfulfilled contracts. The brief surge in oil prices during the Persian Gulf crisis further weakened Eastern Europe. Although the losses did not cause permanent harm, they were an onerous burden during a critical early stage of the economic transitions. If the East European states weather the short-term dislocation from these external shocks, the outlook over the medium to longer term will be much brighter. The reorientation of East European trade away from the Soviet Union, though painful in the short term, will work to the long-term advantage of Eastern Europe. Having been forced to reduce their reliance on Soviet energy and markets, the East European economies will emerge more capable of trading with the West. In 1990 and 1991, trade between Eastern Europe and members of the European Community (EC) expanded significantly, as a number of East European firms adjusted surprisingly well to competition on the world market. Moreover, the increase would have been larger without the barriers that the EC still has in place against such products as textiles, steel and agricultural goods. The growth of trade with the EC, though not as substantial as the East European governments had desired and not enough to offset the losses in trade with former COMECON partners, provided some hope that Czechoslovakia, Hungary, and Poland might be ready to join the EC within the next decade. Private Property The fundamental pillar of any capitalist system is the private ownership of property. If communism achieved anything in Eastern Europe, it was the abolition of private property rights as state bureaucracies assumed control of all land and production facilities. Thus, one of the most urgent tasks confronting the postcommunist governments has been the legalization of private ownership and the transfer of state property to private hands. Although small-scale privatization has been underway for some time throughout Eastern Europe and programs for large-scale privatization have been adopted in Czechoslovakia, Hungary, Poland, and even Romania, a number of thorny problems regarding fairness, speed, and efficiency have arisen. The controversy surrounding restitution or compensation for citizens whose property was expropriated by the communist regimes complicates the whole question of privatization. The value of affected property in Czechoslovakia, Hungary, and Poland has been estimated at more than $22 billion. Because the notion of shifting ownership to private hands is predicated on the assumption that the state owns the property to be transferred, ambiguity about the state's claim poses obvious difficulties for privatization. Potential buyers of state assets will be reluctant to purchase anything that might later be subject to restitution claims. Moreover, the lengthy process needed to verify potential claims could delay privatization indefinitely, thereby thwarting hopes of swift ownership transfer. The restitution issue roused heated debate both inside and outside the East European governments and became a factor in local and national elections. In Hungary, one of the contending parties, the independent Small-holders, made the demand for restitution of farmland its main electorial plank. Ultimately, the East European governments tried to reach compromises that would be deemed fair by the public, yet would minimally affect plans for privatization. In Poland, a compromise bill limited restitution in kind to property seized in violation of the laws existing at the time of seizure. Vouchers that could be used to purchase shares in privatized firms would be granted to all other successful claimants. Hungary provided for compensation in the form of property bonds that could be used in land auctions or exchanged for shares in privatized companies. Only Czechoslovakia permitted restitution in kind on a wider scale, and even there dispossessed owners had to fulfill strict conditions and file claims within a limited time. Thus, although lingering pressure for expanded restitution remained an obstacle to privatization, the acute uncertainly that arose in 1990 and early 1991 had largely subsided by the end of 1991. Other formidable obstacles to privatization remained, however. During the first two years of their economic transitions, Czechoslovakia, Hungary, and Poland took widely differing approaches to privatization. Hungary adopted the most cautious approach, eschewing plans involving either a mass giveaway of state-owned companies through vouchers or the broad transfer of ownership to workers and managers. Instead, Hungarian officials sought to privatize on a case-by-case basis using traditional sales methods. That approach had the virtue of simplicity, but the results it produced in 1990 and 1991 were not especially encouraging: The sales of just one of the most successful Hungarian companies took many months longer than expected. By mid-1991, some Hungarian officials, including Finance Minister Mihaly Kupa, openly complained that privatization would take several decades or even centuries if the government relied exclusively on selling off companies one at a time. Case-by-case privatization faced the same difficulties in Czechoslovakia and Poland. Unlike Hungary, however, Czechoslovakia and Poland responded by devising mass giveaway schemes that they hoped would expedite the privatization process. The Polish plan called for the establishment of 12 investment management funds, headed by Western financial consultants, that would control 60 percent of the shares of Poland's several hundred largest companies. The state treasury and the company's employees would divide the remaining 40 percent of shares in each company. The investment funds were to start trading shares in the companies immediately after the initial allocation in 1992. At the same time, an equal number of shares from each investment fund were to be distributed free of charge to all 28 million Polish adults, who would be entitled to trade shares in the funds starting in mid-1993. The Czechoslovak government came up with a more elaborate approach, which called for 3,000 large state-owned companies to be sold off by means of "coupon privatization." All companies selected for the program had to submit a privatization plan by November 1991 and, except for a few firms of particular national importance, were entitled to sell shares to any interested buyers, including foreigners. The large majority of companies, which were unable to sell enough of their shares by standard methods, were then channeled into the "coupon privatization" scheme. Under the scheme, shares in enterprises were to be auctioned off in two waves to holders of investment vouchers, which were available to all adult citizens of Czechoslovakia for a nominal price of 1,035 crowns (roughly $35). Initial estimates suggested that some three to four million people--approximately one-third of the adult population--would purchase vouchers; the actual number of buyers in 1991 amounted to only about 450,000. A last-minute rush of purchases in January 1992, however, brought the total up to the initial projections. Western governments should provide large-scale aid, $5 billion to $10 billion a year, specifically targeted for infrastructure development and environmental cleanup. Neither the Polish nor the Czechoslovak plan has turned out to be entirely feasible and both are potentially susceptible to abuse. The Czechoslovak proposal has been criticized for failing to introduce the new capital and management expertise that is needed to revive ailing industries and stem the growing obsolescence of the industrial base. If most of the newly privatized companies quickly go bankrupt, the experience could permanently set back the cause of mass privatization in Czechoslovakia and elsewhere. Quite apart from that problem, the Czechoslovaki approach is prone to dangers from insider trading and fraud. Because most Czechoslovak citizens lack the information required to make sound investment decisions, the most valuable shares may end up going to voucher holders with access to inside information. This drawback could be mitigated somewhat if workers and managers used their vouchers to buy shares in their own firms, but the potential for abuse cannot be elminated altogether. Finally, the plan has been attacked by both Czech and Slovak politicians for endangering the interests of their respective republics by enabling foreign investment funds to make quick profits from undervalued companies. So bitter did their complaints become by the fall of 1991 that they delayed the implementation of the entire program, much to the dismay of the federal government. Although the Polish plan avoids most of the Czechoslovak proposal's shortcomings, it is dependent on the governments ability to recruit a sufficient number of Western fund managers who can adjust to doing business in Poland, itself a daunting task. Further, the long-term financial underpinnings of the program, including compensation to fund management and operation of the stock market, have never been fully clarified. Nor has there been any concrete vision of the investment funds' role over the longer term: whether they will be preserved, liquidated, or broken up. The concept of distributing investment shares to every Polish adult has also come under attack from legislators who believe this approach is too slow and financially unpredictable. Because of these problems, the scope of the plan was scaled back substantially in October 1991, when 171 of the proposed 400 enterprises were dropped from the first round of the distribution scheme, including some of the largest Polish companies. Later on, other companies were excluded because of antitrust concerns, raising further doubts about the plan. The slow pace of case-by-case privatization in Hungary, and the problems connected with the Czechoslovak and Polish versions of mass privatization prompted some East European officials to reconsider the idea of condoning spontaneous privatization--the transfer of ownership to workers and managers--at least for small-and medium-sized firms. Initially, the East Europeans governments were reluctant to promote spontaneous privatization because of a widespread and accurate perception that it had been exploited by ex-communist party officials to retain influence in society through the ownership of fraudulently acquired property. To preclude a recurrence of such abuses, East European advocates of spontaneous privatization, such as Hungary's Kupa, proposed new legal safeguards ensuring that workers as well as managers would benefit from the process. Although supporters of spontaneous privatization had gained considerable ground by the start of 1992 in Hungary and Poland, the debate regarding privatization may not be fully settled for years to come. Even in the unlikely event that all the shortcomings in the privatization schemes could be worked out, private property rights would remain ambiguous. Over the last few years, the East European countries have created new forms of property that cannot be neatly classified as either state-owned or private. Early reforms to decentralize economic decision-making without actually privatizing firms led to the emergence of enterprises governed by workers' councils or by a combination of workers and managers who had not been given formal title to the property. In both cases the state still nominally owned the companies, but those who actually ran them were accountable only to themselves and behaved accordingly. Eventually, these nebulous companies may be transformed into commercial enterprises governed by boards of directors, which can then be either retained by the state or privatized. Until clarification occurs across the board, enterprises existing in the limbo between state and private ownership will severely impede East European economic performance. Worker Resistance Until 1989, blue-collar workers in all East European countries lived under broadly similar political and labor conditions. For the most part, they were allowed only ritual participation in national politics, and were strictly limited in their participation in the workplace and at the local level. In return for their political and labor quiescence, most workers received certain economic benefits from the state, including job security, stable and subsidized prices, and a lax work regime with low performance standards. Recent advances toward a free-market orientation introduced blue-collar workers to heightened performance pressures, job insecurity, and income disparities. At the same time, workers began, openly and legally, to articulate demands, organize independent unions, and exert political influence. The convergence of these two developments--economic hardships coupled with much greater political freedom--spurred workers in Eastern Europe to join in opposing some of the harshest austerity measures. The degree of worker resistance to shock therapy programs has varied from country to country, but in every case some of the strongest opposition has come from workers whose job security and living standards have been threatened. In Czechoslovakia, for example, the threat of widespread labor unrest in early 1991 forced the federal government to back away from its plan to quadruple the prices of electricity, gasoline, and heating. Similarly, protests by workers in Slovakia, who feared losing their jobs, helped induce the government to refrain from closing down inefficient factories in the Slovak Republic. After initially promising to halt all arms transfers to the Third World, Czechoslovak officials gave in to worker pressure and permitted Slovak factories to continue producing tanks, air-defence missiles, training aircraft, and related equipment for export to Iran, Syria, and other countries. Although Czechoslovakia suspended all weapons sales to the Middle East in October 1991 to facilitate the Arab-Israeli peace negotiations, growing pressure from Slovak industrial workers later compelled the federal government to allow the sales to go forward and seek potential arms customers elsewhere. Even after the Czechoslovak government took steps to preserve jobs in the military industries, however, labor unrest in Slovakia persisted. Three hundred and eighty thousand metalworkers staged a one hour warning strike in Bratislava in November 1991 to protest higher prices and the decline in living standards. Similar protests occurred in other industries in Slovakia. The federal government also found itself under attack from workers on collective farms in both Slovakia and the Czech lands, who feared unemployment if plans for the privatization of agriculture went ahead. The unexpected resistance crippled efforts to decollectivize agriculture in 1990 and 1991. By the start of 1992, worker unrest in Czechoslovakia had proven to be a key impediment to all types of economic reform, especially the federal government's plans for large-scale privatization. In Poland, too, the first threats to the shock therapy program that then prime minister Tadeusz Mazowiecki's noncommunist-led government implemented in January 1990 came from miners, shipbuilders, and other workers who were concerned about unemployment. Mazowiecki's program enjoyed unusually strong popular support for several months and produced dramatic results, but by the late summer of 1990, public approval had ebbed and labor protests had begun. These growing signs of discontent induced the government to slow down plans for privatization and afforded Lech Walesa an opportunity to seek the Polish presidency. The presidential elections of late 1990 ended in a decisive rebuff for Mazowiecki and an equally decisive victory for Walesa, confirming the extent of popular dissatisfaction with the austerity program. Once Walesa had taken office, however, unrest among workers continued to grow, as the basic framework of the shock therapy policies remained in place and the main architect of those policies, Finance Minister Leszak Balcerowicz, retained his post. Workers demanded that large factories be kept open and that wage restraint be eliminated or at least eased. On the former point, the government had made significant concessions by the fall of 1991. The inconclusive results and low turnout in the parliamentary elections of October 1991, the substantial protest vote that went to the former Communist party, the two months of wrangling before a less reform-minded government emerged under Jan Olszewski, and the proliferation of strikes across Poland all suggested that resistance among workers to shock therapy would hinder attempts to proceed further with radical reforms in Poland. In Hungary as well, labor unrest caused extensive disruption and generated pressure on the government to relax its austerity program. In October 1990, a cab drivers' strike brought Budapest to a virtual standstill for several days, dramatically illustrating the growing public discontent. A few months later, the threat of mass protests by workers at the huge Ikarus bus manufacturing plant influenced the decision of Hungarian leaders to seek outside investment to keep the ailing factory in business. During the summer of 1991, the Hungarian government abandoned its plans to cut agricultural subsidies after farm workers organized large rallies nationwide to protest grain surpluses and call for higher grain prices. Workers in other East European countries protested austerity measures as well. In September 1991 thousands of coal miners from the Jiu Valley in western Romania stormed into Bucharest seeking higher wages, lower prices, and the government's resignation. Ensuing clashes with the police and security forces left three people dead and dozens injured. In Bulgaria, labor protests did not erupt into mass violence in 1990 or 1991, but strikes and work stoppages helped bring down the communist- dominated government in November 1990 and impeded the economic reforms of the new, noncommunist government. For example, a strike by 27,000 Bulgarian coal miners in August 1991 led to significant wage increases, contravening the government's anti- inflationary policies. Subsequent waves of strikes, including one by more than 4,000 workers at the Arsenal weapons factory in December 1991, brought additional pressure to bear on the government. Workers in Eastern Europe have good reason to be leery of drastic economic reform. The experience of eastern Germany demonstrated that the sacrifices required during the transition from a state-controlled economy to a free-market system fell disproportionately on blue-collar workers. Unemployment in eastern Germany soared to 30 percent in 1991, and the rate would have been even higher if underemployment and part-time work were taken into account. Without the advantages that reunification brought to eastern Germany, the sacrifices that will be required in the other East European countries may make the situation in the former GDR seem pleasant by comparison. The extent to which worker resistance becomes a crippling obstacle to reform will depend, in part, on the precautionary measures to cushion shock therapy. The Hungarian government has sought to soften the impact of rising unemployment, which reached 6.1 percent on September 1991, by providing generous unemployment benefits of up to three times the minimum wage for as long as two years. Similarly, Romanian officials have tried to head off labor unrest by preserving housing subsidies and a few other price supports. Although these policies have obvious drawbacks, they are indicative of the trade-offs that may be required to ensure worker support for--or at least acquiescence to--radical economic measures. Although precautions of this sort will insulate the East European governments to some degree, the success of economic reform in Eastern Europe will ultimately depend on the readiness of workers to put up with austerity--perhaps severe austerity--over the short to medium term in return for much greater political freedom and the hope of evential prosperity. Sequencing Reforms The ideal shock therapy program would pursue the full range of reforms--macro-economic stabilization, price liberalization, currency convertibility, trade and banking reform, labor deregulation, broad privatization, and appropriate legal and social measures--simultaneously. For both political and economic reasons, however, a truly comprehensive package has been impossible except in the very special case of eastern Germany. The other East European governments have found it necessary to choose among certain steps rather than pursue all avenues at once. Unfortunately, some measures have little or no effect unless combined with other measures, and it is often difficult to evaluate a sequence of reforms before implementation. Further, if the austerity required during the early stages of a shock therapy program generates enough popular opposition and discord among elites, it will complicate the subsequent enactment of any deferred reforms. This problem has been evident in Poland, the first East European country to undertake shock therapy. Enacted in January 1990, the Polish program removed controls on prices, countered inflation through wage restraints, restricted the money supply, reduced trade barriers, and devalued the zloty to make the currency convertible. Although the program envisioned large- scale privatization, it deferred that goal pending the success of the initial reforms. From a political standpoint, the delay in implementing privatization may have been necessary; and economically, freeing prices would help in deciding which companies were worth trying to sell to private buyers. However, the decline in Polish living standards during the first two years of shock therapy has made the public wary of future reforms, including plans for privatization. Looking back in late 1991, Polish Minister of Privatization Janusz Lewandowski publicly regretted the sequence of reforms that his government has chosen. In an interview with the Moscow weekly Novoe Vremya, he said: "So risky a measure as the freeing of prices should have been carried out simultaneously with the greatest possible introduction of private enterprise and large-scale privatization. We made that mistake here. At first we freed prices and strengthened the zloty, and only a year later got down to privatization. Instead, we should have done the two simultaneously, or better yet, privatization should have come ahead of the decontrol of price formation. Then the hyperinflation could have been overcome earlier and without such a shock." Lewandowski's comments illustrate the difficulty of formulating an economically viable sequence of reforms that will also be politically acceptable. The approach that the Polish government took in 1990 and 1991 has made it inordinately difficult for any future government to close down inefficient factories. Efforts to privatize firms that might be efficient if they were to reduce their labor force have been similarly hindered. For example, during the October 1991 electorial campaign, Prime Minister Jan Bielecki's government found it necessary to bail out the giant Ursus tractor plant and a number of ailing military factories. The uncertainty that has followed the October 1991 elections will further complicate efforts at privatization in Poland. Polish officials face obstacles that are typical of those bedeviling all the East European countries. In 1990 and most of 1991, officials in Czechoslovakia, Hungary, and Poland concentrated primarily on dealing with the easiest problems first--macroeconomic stabilization and the control of inflation. They were less inclined to call for measures that would bring about large-scale unemployment. The experience of the former GDR, where industrial output fell by 50 percent and unemployment rose to 30 percent in the first year after reunification, reinforced the cautious inclinations of governments elsewhere in Eastern Europe. Although the painfully compressed transition in eastern Germany created the basis for a near-term recovery, the other East European countries could not endure a similar course because they lack the protection that the former GDR received. Since these governments have to proceed more gradually, the way they handle three sets of reforms will be critical to the success of their shock therapy designs: Currency Convertibility Currency convertibility and trade liberalization can be invaluable in the earliest stages of a reform program. If prices in Poland had been freed without a convertible currency and a lowering of trade barriers, the high degree of monopoly in Polish industry might have thwarted the development of a meaningful pricing system. By allowing foreign competition, the Polish program ensured that prices, once freed, would become true market prices. However, foreign competition could swiftly render domestic industries obsolete, denying them the opportunity to become internationally competitive. Even if allowing the unprofitable majority of companies to go bankrupt makes economic sense, the experience in eastern Germany demonstrates that the unemployment resulting from widespread de-industrialization carries severe political costs. A string of violent protests against rising unemployment and other hardships could undermine the East European governments' ability to sustain their shock therapy programs. Financial Restructuring Without an elaborate system of commercial banks and stock markets the allocation of capital to East European industries, whether privatized or state-owned, is likely to remain skewed. Establishing a viable financial system, especially private banks, should therefore be one of the highest priorities for the East European governments. Nevertheless, the Polish experience suggests that the task is much harder than one might expect. Because almost all the loans by banks are to firms that have not yet been privatized, there are problems in determining whether existing banks can be run efficiently. In addition, the banking scandal that came to light in Poland in mid-1991 is but one illustration of the serious risks of abuse and corruption that plague the newly formed systems. That experience prompted the chief inspector for Poland's National Bank to warn that "the establishment of a safe banking system" would be "extremely costly" and could take more than a decade. Privatization The longer the task of privatization is delayed, the harder it becomes to implement. The East European states thus have an incentive to proceed rapidly in privatizing companies. The Polish experience reveals some of the dangers in putting off privatization. Nevertheless, the obstacles to privatization evident throughout Eastern Europe provide little reason to doubt economist Josef Brada's prediction in a 1991 essay that "for a rather indefinite future [the East European] countries will have economies where large industrial units partly or wholly owned by the state will co-exist with or indeed, predominate over, large privatized firms in the hands of residents or foreigners and small industrial units that will arise as the result of the efforts of indigenous entrepreneurs." But if this prediction is indeed borne out (that is, if large-scale privatization does take a very long time to accomplish), the whole future of postcommunist economic reforms will be endangered. The Hungarian economist Janos Kornai has argued that the impossibility of privatizing in a "big bang" will mean that "for a long time, inevitably, a large part of [every East European] economy, in particular the gradually shrinking, but still rather large state-owned sector, will run inefficiently," dragging down the private sector with it. There is no universally applicable way that these three types of reforms (or others) should be implemented. Because Hungary has not experienced the acute crisis that Poland did in late 1989, officials in Budapest have been able to proceed more gradually in all three areas. Hungarian proponents of shock therapy argue, however, that the gradualist approach may be safer in the short term, but it will prove more costly over the long term once drastic measures are required. Czechoslovakia, for its part, has come closer to adopting Polish-style shock therapy reforms, thanks largely to the tenacity of the finance minister, Vaclav Klaus. But the Czechoslovak reforms have not been as sweeping as those in Poland, nor have they fared any better with the issue of privatization. Questions of sequencing also have begun to arise in Bulgaria and Romania, both of which were initially slow to undertake economic reforms. Since mid-1991, the two countries, particularly Bulgaria, have shown signs of eventually moving toward some version of shock therapy, which could prove even more complicated than analogous programs elsewhere. For example, neither Bulgaria nor Romania has much of an industrial base; hence, they may be far less willing than Poland was to proceed immediately with currency convertability and trade liberalization, for fear that their capital stock will be undermined by a flood of imports. (In the Polish case, this problem was forestalled by the huge devaluation of the zloty.) In any event, whatever the precise sequence of reforms that individual East European countries arrange, there is bound to be a good deal of trial and error, with many adjustments along the way. The sacrifices required during the transition from a state- controlled to a free-market system fall disproportionately on blue-collar workers. The west will play a crucial role in the economic transformation of Eastern Europe, but the exact nature of this role will depend in the actions of the East European states themselves, Ultimately, successful reform will have to come from within. If the East European countries cannot endure the painful steps required to bring about genuine prosperity, no amount of Western assistance will help. In fact, Western aid--financial or otherwise--would be counterproductive if used by the recipients as an excuse to avoid or defer meaningful reforms. So far, however, the Bulgarian, Czechoslovak, Hungarian, and Polish governments have embraced the very measures long urged by Western officials and economists. Unlike the former Soviet republics, the East European states have moved far more boldly down the path of reform then most observers had expected. Yet, ironically, almost all the recent debate about Western financial and technical aid has focused on what can be done for the former Soviet government and the republics, overshadowing the amounts that have been used more efficiently by the East European countries. Memories of the dramatic events of 1989 have faded, and there emerges the possibility that Eastern Europe will once again become a forgotten region for the West. This loss of interest in Eastern Europe is unfortunate and dangerous. Facilitating successful reform in Eastern Europe is vital not only because economic collapse could spur floods of refugees and violent civil disorder, but also because a failed transition in Eastern Europe would discredit the move from socialism to capitalism. This would play in the hands of anti- reformist elements in the former Soviet republics and would set back the cause of free markets and democracy all across Europe. To be sure, severe budgetary constraints in the West will limit the direct contribution the United States and its allies can make to the economic development of Eastern Europe. The German government's experience in meeting the costs of reunification illustrates the problems that will arise in other cases as reforms progress. Even with these constraints, however, relatively modest increases in technical and economical assistance, if properly targeted, could prove decisive. No step would be more welcome for the East European countries than the elimination of EC and U.S. trade barriers, particularly for agricultural products, textiles, and steel. The East European states can successfully compete with Western producers in these three industries, but they have been barred from entering prospective markets. Projections by the Overseas Development Council suggest that East European exports of textiles and apparel to the West could increase nearly four-fold if trade barriers were removed. Exports of steel and agricultural products could also rise far beyond current levels. Although there will be strong political resistance in Western Europe to the easing, or elimination of trade barriers, the United States should emphasize the incongruity of the EC's urging the enactment of free-market reforms in Eastern Europe while adopting policies that greatly impede those reforms. The United States should also be willing to dismantle all or most of its own remaining barriers to East European trade without demanding immediate reciprocity from the East European countries, as was done with Czechoslovakia in October 1991. Access to foreign private investment will also be vital for the East European countries during their economic transitions, but relatively little investment has flowed into the region so far. Only about $2.5 billion actually arrived between late 1989 and mid-1991, and that money was distributed very unevenly, with roughly 60 percent of the total invested in Hungary. Accelerating privatization in all the East European countries will require much larger sums, perhaps $20 billion or more. Of course, the amount of private investment in Eastern Europe will depend in the long term on the prospects for profit. Those prospects, in turn, will grow only if political stability is ensured and economic conditions begin to improve, criteria that may not be fully met for at least several years if at all. In the meantime, however, Western governments and non- governmental organizations can foster a propitious climate for foreign investment. The "association" agreements that several East European countries recently concluded with the EC will help boost investor confidence, but that status would be far more valuable if combined with the elimination of trade barriers. The increased use of export credit guarantees from Western governments and international financial organizations would also help create a better investment climate without requiring additional direct expenditures. The climates for investment can be further improved through the development of a suitable business infrastructure in each country. Western governments can provide technical support and expertise on keeping accurate statistics, running financial and banking systems, and monitoring and maintaining adequate environmental standards. In this regard, programs like the "twinning" of Polish banks with western counterparts, sponsored by the World Bank and the International Finance Corporation, will be invaluable. So too will the programs that have recently been set up to train East European company managers and entrepreneurs at Western business schools. Another key step for Western governments will be to give greater emphasis to privatization then to conversion. Starting in the early 1950s, the Soviet Union required most of the East European countries to maintain large defense industries. Now, with communism abandoned and the Warsaw Pact defunct, all of the East European states have been seeking to reduce, or at least stabilize, their military spending and convert a significant portion of their military factories to civilian production. Plans for conversion have won support in the West and should certainly be encouraged, especially when conversion is cost-effective. Successes include the huge Slovakian manufacturing complex Zavody Tazkeho Strojarstva (ZTS), which received help from German investors in converting some of its assembly lines from the production of tanks to tractors, bulldozers, earth movers, steam rollers, and dump trucks. If the whole of ZTS can be sold off to private investors, it could well become one of the largest European producers of civilian heavy vehicles. In Hungary, a former military factory known as the Gamma Works, which produced equipment for defense against chemical and nuclear attacks, has successfully reoriented its facilities to produce nuclear medical diagnostic instruments, automation systems, and other nonmilitary goods. Despite these successes, officials in both East and West should be aware that plans for conversion do not always make much sense. In many cases, factories that produced military equipment cannot shift over to civilian production at an acceptable cost; or if they do shift over, they have no hope of making a profit. It would make more sense for those East European governments to shut down those factories. The urgent need is to privatize factories, not merely convert them. Otherwise, conversion may become a way of preserving subsidies to inherently unprofitable firms. Private owners of factories have every incentive to convert to civilian production if it could make economic sense, they would not have brought the factories in the first place. The best way for the West to encourage conversion in Eastern Europe--aside from providing modest technical advice--is to encourage privatization and let the market decide which factories will be viable in producing civilian goods. Debt relief is another urgent priority. Except in Romania, and to some extent Czechoslovakia, large foreign debts accumulated by the old East European communist regimes have impeded economic reforms. It is unwise and unfair to compel the fledgling democratic governments to shoulder the burden of their predecessors' mistakes. The agreement by the Paris Club (the group of 17 major Western governmental creditors) in March 1991 to write off half of Poland's government-held debt provided a deserved reward to a country that had undertaken drastic internal reforms. Other states in the region can benefit from similar measures as they embark on their own shock therapy programs. Just as important will be the relaxation of commercial debts, something that the Paris Club agreement required of the Polish government. No doubt, negotiations between the East European states and their commercial creditors will proceed more slowly than the government-to-government talks, but a forthcoming approach by governmental lenders should expedite far-reaching reductions in Eastern Europe's commercial debts. Finally, even if Western officials do their best to encourage private investment and reduce trade barriers, increased governmental assistance to the East European countries will be essential. Substantial amounts of aid have already channeled through the EC, the European Bank, the International Monetary Fund, and the World Bank, but the total falls far short of the amounts the East European states will need to sustain themselves through the transition. East European leaders have acknowledged that unemployment in their countries could double, triple, or even quadruple in 1992 and 1993, bringing with it the risk of "disorder" and "strike after strike." Economic crises could rapidly overwhelm the social "safety-net" programs that Czechoslovakia, Hungary, and Poland have set up. Increased Western aid will be needed simply to ease the growing hardships ahead. Whatever the political rationale for increased Western aid, such aid will not be of long-term benefit unless it is put to productive use. Western governments should provide large-scale aid, $5 billion to $10 billion a year; specifically targeted for infrastructure development and environmental cleanup. Roughly one-third of this money would come from the United States and would be distributed both bilaterally and via the major international lending institutions. The East European countries lack modern transportation and communications networks, and sorely need to address the disastrous environmental degradation that occurred during the communist era. Funding from the West for these objectives would improve long-term prospects for economic growth in Eastern Europe, and would also absorb tens of thousands of workers who would otherwise be unemployed. These policy guidelines alone will not be enough to stimulate economic recovery in Eastern Europe, but at least they will enable the West to play as constructive a role as possible. As Polish prime minister Bielecki emphasized recently, failure is not inevitable just because "a miracle cannot happen," and the economic transitions may take more than a decade. The road ahead in Eastern Europe is long, but the postcommunist states are undertaking radical solutions to the daunting problems they confront, and that is no small accomplishment. </body> </article> </text>