What happened to the Kennys after they were escorted by the police from my flat? Barbara Day writes in The Velvet Philosophers: 'Anthony Kenny and his American-born wife were driven off to Bartolomějská (the police head quarters), where they were held until three in the morning and interrogated in separate rooms. The Kennys were delivered to the border-crossing with West Germany, and, carrying their luggage, walked through the woods of Rozvadov in the frosty dawn of an April morning. Tomin and his students, [after being driven to Bartolomějská, one by one] remained locked up for something over the statutory 48 hours.' (Barbara Day, The Velvet Philosophers, The Claridge Press, 1999, p. 58)
The brutal way in which the Kennys were expelled from Czechoslovakia contrasts with Kenny's preparation for their visit: 'Part of the purpose of Anthony Kenny's visit to the Czechoslovak Embassy on March 19 had been to ask for clear guidelines as to what was and was not permitted to academic visitors to Czechoslovakia. Dr Kenny also needed to know on his on behalf, as he and his wife were due to leave for Prague in the second week of April.' (Barbara Day, p. 56)
Let us now view all this within a broader political framework. Roger Scruton wrote in 'A catacomb culture' (TLS February 16-22 , 1990):
'Following the example set by Kathleen Wilkes - an Oxford philosopher of intrepid character - academics began to visit their Czechoslovak colleagues, many of whom they met in the seminar 0rganized by Julius Tomin. The visiting continued for little more than a year, during which period many people, including the Master of Balliol College, were summarily expelled from Czechoslovakia. The publicity-conscious Tomin then emigrated and, so far as the Western press and the majority of Western academics were concerned, that was the end of the matter. However, a small sum of money had been given for the relief of our Czechoslovak colleagues... We decided that, although our purpose was charitable, and in violation of neither English nor Czechoslovak law, it should not be openly pursued, and that we could henceforth best help our Czechoslovak colleagues by working secretly.
We were able to set up a network of secret classes - not only in Bohemia, but also in Moravia and Slovakia. We began with philosophy. Soon, however, we were providing courses in as many subject as our Czechoslovak colleagues demanded: social and political thought, theology, history, Hebrew, literature, art, music and architectural theory. Many of our visitors were extremely well known in their own countries... Each would travel with books, tapes, and transcripts while, through independent channels, we would smuggle printing equipment, photocopiers, binding machines, and the countless other requirements of the "catacomb culture".
In the mid 1980s, thanks to a generous grant from George Soros (who will surely be commemorated in future years as a great Hungarian patriot, but also as one of the saviours of Central Europe), we had expanded into Moravia... Last summer, however, the organizer of our work in Slovakia, Ján Ćarnogurský, was arrested, charged with "subversion in collaboration with foreign powers", and subjected to months of interrogation. Yet, by a miracle, the judge defied his instructions and passed a verdict of innocent... Two weeks later Ćarnogurský was made Deputy Prime Minister... By then another of our beneficiaries was President, and within weeks we were to see our friends occupying the highest offices in the land.
