Shall we not judge a book by its cover—or shape? The book's near-square format suggests the atypical, and intriguing. Those familiar with some of Jiří Přibáň’s other works can expect sophisticated insights, such as from his legal-scholarly works Legal Symbolism: On Law, Time, and Legal Identity (2007) and Dissidents of Law: On the 1989 Velvet Revolutions, Legitimations, Fictions of Legality and Contemporary Version of the Social Contract (2102). A favorite among his books might be Pictures of Czech Postmodernism (2013), and though a different topic and publisher, that and the current books’ formats are virtually the same. Apart from the inclusion of Czech artwork as illustrative of political phenomena, similarity ceases; so too does systematization. Do not expect an index, let alone that this book serves as a primer on Czech politics or on national identity, or on constitutionalism, whether generally or specifically Czech, or structured analysis of terms in the book's title.

Instead we receive an engaging, at times highly provocative (even occasionally sexually explicit) analysis, one eruditely underpinned by political philosophy. Some of the book is based on previous publications and interviews, and the eclecticism perhaps makes it more challenging than a typical monograph to capture in a few words. One approach is to assess aspects of the interplay between contemporary Czech politics and post-national Europe, their differences and their potential symbiosis. In other words, how different are issues in the Czech Republic from those in Europe? Also, was it is intended broadly or for the EU, the latter featuring frequently.

In short, one reading of the book would be that the Czech Republic is not now much different from neighbors, including even noncommunist, European-established democracies. Among where Přibáň arguably finds the Czechs to be unusual includes criticisms of their political maturity and tolerance. A police crackdown on demonstrators in 2009 leads to the conclusion that the “ethos of universal freedom of expression is still alien to us” (219). Unsurprisingly, and rather necessarily, Přibáň tackles Czech corruption, where the analysis is that business interests have seized government. Is this ominous development decidedly Czech, and if so why? Comparison might help. Considering corruption more broadly, does it matter that Transparency International's Corruption Index in 2017 ranked the Czech Republic at forty-two, having improved over previous years, and significantly better than neighbors Slovakia, Hungary, or Romania (but behind the Baltics, Poland, and Slovenia). Would not the comment that some Czechs “suck on European funds like ticks for themselves and their business cronies” (41) be appropriate to other countries? And regarding the purpose of politics, we learn that “Unlike Britain, political conflict in the Czech Republic today is between those who still believe in sovereignty based on respect for constitutional power and the rights of the citizen, and those for whom these rights and this power are merely obstacles on the way to private goals” (183). The Magna Carta is over 800 year old, but I (similarly living in the UK) am not convinced that others here would agree with the “unlike.”

Another of the apparently distinct dimensions of Czech politics is the proclivity to “expert” governments. But is this not another case that a social-science comparison would illuminate? Perhaps Italy is the European leader in producing “expert” governments. Absence of specific comparison notwithstanding, Přibáň is scathing of the phenomenon generally: “The call to ‘let the crisis be managed by experts’ is the biggest lie there could possibly be about society's current global crisis.” Why? “[B]ecause it was the experts with their expertise and seemingly convincing rational arguments who mired us in this mess” (247). But the pushback in Britain during the Brexit referendum was notable, with Leave campaigning that “people in this country have had enough of experts.” That four out of ten votes in the 2013 Czech parliamentary elections went to political parties that find “the existing political system (or representative democracy) and politics per se [to be] hostile targets” (236) perhaps, if disconcertingly, might have put the Czechs ahead of some voting trends in the Euro-Atlantic area.

Only infrequently does Přibáň expressly say that he does find commonality between Czech society and “all democracies in Europe and beyond” (192). If anything, “the Czech question”—the subject of profound works for nearly two centuries—asks matters that sound universal. That might be attainment of what the first Czech premier, the free-marketeering Václav Klaus sought in the 1990s: that the new Czech Republic be a “normal country.” Normal is: rampant corruption, non-democratic and possibly counterproductive expert governments, and uncertainty about political values. Those problems are now rather generic. That is a dispiriting but necessary analysis. We can be glad all the more that Přibáň continues to keep his sharp, astute watch on matters Czech, and universal.