Like many of my peers, I went to Eastern Europe in the early 1990s to work as an English teacher. I spent the next three years giving lessons in conversation and learning about the people and culture in my new home. Although I was not in a position to follow politics very closely – I only started learning the language after I arrived – in many ways those years shaped my view of Eastern European politics.

My dominant impression from that time was of living in a normal democratic country. If there were worries about civil liberties and political rights, they were mostly on the margins. Citizens and the press – not to mention my students – were not afraid to criticize the government. Elections were usually closely fought affairs that featured real differences of opinion about policy. Parties appeared to take the views of the public seriously, though mainly because they knew that getting votes depended on it. And a rough sort of accountability prevailed, where incumbents perceived as corrupt or incompetent typically lost their hold on power.

These impressions were partially a result of living in Brno rather than, say, Bucharest, but frequent visits to Hungary, Poland, and even Slovakia – then something of a pariah – did not overturn this impression. Of course, citizens complained to me constantly about their corrupt and self-serving leaders – and scandals were not in short supply – but then again Eastern Europeans are consistently among the least happy people in the world.