For thousands of daily commuters passing through the Anděl station of Prague’s Metro Line B, the morning rush is punctuated by a jarring reminder of a geopolitical era the city has spent decades trying to outrun. Fixed to a wall of deep red stone is a large bronze relief bearing the words “Moskva–Praha,” a 1985 installation intended to symbolize the “friendship” between the Czechoslovak Socialist Republic and the Soviet Union.
Four years after the Russian invasion of Ukraine, that symbol of friendship has become a flashpoint of public anger. To some, it is a banal remnant of urban architecture; to others, it is an active wound. The tension has reached a tipping point, prompting the Prague city administration, the Prague Public Transport Company (DPP) and the Gallery of the City of Prague (GHMP) to announce a plan to transform the artwork through an international competition.
The controversy highlights a broader, ongoing struggle within the Czech Republic: how to handle the physical debris of the Cold War in a modern, democratic landscape. While the city has promised a creative overhaul, the process is currently stalled in a bureaucratic limbo, leaving a temporary, Czech-only explanatory plaque as the only barrier between the monument and the commuters it continues to provoke.
A Transit Hub of Conflicting Memories
The emotional weight of the “Moskva–Praha” relief is most evident in the voices of those who encounter it daily. For Jan, a commuter who lived through the communist regime, the relief is an affront. “I experienced that regime, and this is disgusting,” he says. “Historically, in my view, it makes no sense to keep it here.”
For those displaced by current conflicts, the relief is even more visceral. One Ukrainian woman, passing through the station in haste, describes her reaction in stark terms: “I am Ukrainian, and I hate Moscow.” Even visitors to the city are struck by the dissonance. Milena, who traveled to Prague to visit her daughter, noted that seeing the relief felt like a regression. “It takes me back to communism; I don’t like it very much.”
However, the relief does not provoke everyone. Some, like Judita, who used the station when it was still officially named “Moskevská,” view it as a neutral part of the environment. This divide reflects the complex layering of Prague’s identity—a city that is simultaneously a European capital of art and a former outpost of the Eastern Bloc.
The Plan for Artistic Transformation
To resolve the discord, the city has proposed a high-profile artistic intervention. According to Jana Smrčková, head of communications at the GHMP, the city is preparing a two-round international competition to redesign the space. The goal is not merely to remove the text, but to reimagine the entire wall of red stone.
The DPP has indicated that while they are open to creative interpretations, You’ll see strict boundaries. Daniel Šabík, a spokesperson for the DPP, stated that the new work must avoid “vulgar expressions or those that restrict freedom.”
The proposed timeline for the transformation is significant, suggesting the city is treating this as a permanent architectural shift rather than a quick fix:
| Stage | Estimated Duration | Key Objective |
|---|---|---|
| Artistic Competition | 4 to 8 Months | Selection of international winner |
| Contractual Phase | Variable | Finalizing design and funding |
| Physical Implementation | Up to 1 Year | Removal/Transformation of the relief |
Bureaucratic Stalls and the ‘Forced Narrative’
Despite the promises made in early 2024, the competition has yet to be officially launched. The proposal created by the GHMP is currently under review by city leadership, and critical decisions regarding funding have not been finalized. The momentum for the change has also been hampered by political turnover; Zdeněk Hřib (Pirates) and Jiří Pospíšil (TOP 09), the primary drivers of the initiative, have since left the city’s leadership.
In the interim, the city installed an explanatory plaque in May 2024. The text explicitly states that the “friendship” between the Soviet Union and Czechoslovakia was a “forced narrative of an occupying power” and includes a condemnation of the current war in Ukraine. However, the plaque is written only in Czech, meaning the thousands of international tourists who pass through Anděl see the “Moskva–Praha” relief without any critical context.
This “stop-gap” measure has been criticized by commuters who admit they often overlook the compact sign entirely. For activists like student Jakub Boháč, who launched a petition to remove all Soviet-era symbols from the station, a small sign is insufficient. “We believe that such a legacy absolutely should not be here now, in the time of Russian aggression against Ukraine,” Boháč’s petition asserts.
Erasure vs. Preservation: The Historian’s Dilemma
The plan to “artistically transform” the relief is not without its critics, including those who usually advocate for the removal of communist symbols. Petr Blažek, a historian and director of the Museum of Memories of the 20th Century, argues that attempting to merge a modern artistic vision with a Soviet-era relic is a mistake.
“I think it would be absurd to connect a current idea with the one from back then; it feels a bit like parasitism,” Blažek says. He argues that the “Moskva–Praha” relief was never truly a piece of fine art, but rather a “utility element”—a product of a law that required a certain percentage of construction budgets to be spent on art, regardless of quality.
Blažek suggests a simpler binary: either leave the relief alone as a historical artifact or remove it entirely. While the Museum of Memories of the 20th Century cannot exhibit the piece due to its size, Blažek noted that the museum would not oppose placing it in a storage depository.
A Regional Wave of De-communization
The struggle at Anděl station is part of a wider trend across the Czech Republic. The “Moskva–Praha” relief is not the only relic causing friction in the metro; a similar controversy erupted at the Hradčanská station over an inscription claiming “all power in the CSSR belongs to the working people.” In that instance, the DPP opted to cover the work, with plans to replace it with a relief depicting the origins of the Czech state during future renovations.
Outside the capital, the removal of Soviet monuments is accelerating. The city of Litoměřice removed the “Honor and Glory to the Soviet Army” monument last year. In Brno, a new coalition has begun collecting signatures to replace a statue of a Red Army soldier with a children’s playground, timed to coincide with the anniversary of the invasion of Ukraine.
The resolution of the Anděl station conflict will likely serve as a bellwether for how Prague balances its architectural history with its modern political values. For now, the bronze letters remain, waiting for a city administration to move from the planning phase to the execution of a new, international vision.
The next official checkpoint for the project is the approval of the GHMP’s competition framework by the Prague city leadership, which will trigger the opening of the international bidding process. We will continue to monitor the city’s procurement portal for the formal announcement.
Do you believe Soviet-era monuments should be transformed into new art, or removed entirely to museums? Share your thoughts in the comments below.
