Mile L’udovit, like other residents of the unassuming grey apartment block on the outskirts of the sleepy central Slovakian town of Levice, considered Juraj Cintula a reliable neighbour and friend.
Having lived side by side with him for more than 40 years, L’udovit could never have imagined the 71-year-old former security guard and amateur poet would be suspected of perpetrating the worst political attack in Slovakian modern history – shooting the prime minister multiple times at point-blank range.
“I have known him for decades. If he was planning something, there were no signs. But I can’t look into his head,” said L’udovit, 68, on Thursday, a day after the attempted assassination of Robert Fico that left the divisive politician in a critical condition.
“Our whole building is trying to understand why he did this.”
They were not alone. On Thursday, the whole of Levice, like much of Slovakia, was struggling to make sense of the attack. Shootings of heads of state or government are virtually unheard of in recent European history, and the attempt on Fico’s life has caused deep shock inside Slovakia and throughout Europe.
But while the alleged perpetrator’s motives remain murky, the attack comes on the back of growing polarisation in Slovak society.
L’udovit said he would occasionally discuss politics with Cintula and that his neighbour did not appear to have “strong political opinions”, but had expressed anger over the growing attacks on free speech under Fico’s leadership.
“But I would never have thought he would be capable of such awful actions. He never talked about using violence. He was not radical,” said the neighbour.
Slovak police have not yet officially named Cintula as the attacker, but they have said the shooting appeared to have a “clear political motivation”.
The Slovak interior minister said a “lone wolf” who had been “radicalised recently, after the [spring] presidential election” had been charged with attempted murder.
A video posted online hours after the shooting appeared to show Cintula in detention saying he did not agree with the government’s policies, particularly what he described as the “liquidation” of the media. It was unclear who had taken the footage and how it had surfaced online.
L’udovit said he had last seen Cintula on Monday when he appeared to be his “usual self”. Wearing shorts and slippers, L’udovit strolled past a police guard stationed outside the apartment block and pointed to the top-floor flat belonging to Cintula and his wife. “I don’t have an explanation for why he did what he did,” he said, shaking his head.
Initial available information depicts Cintula as a contradictory figure, a Fico critic who rallied against violence, while also occasionally aligning himself with ultra-nationalist narratives.
In an unearthed 2015 YouTube video, he claimed that, together with other people, he was founding an “anti-violence group” in Levice. “Every normal person rejects violence. Our goal is to unite people, preserve peace and restore democracy,” he says, announcing the creation of the group. “The world is full of violence and weapons. People seem to be going crazy.”
A year later, however, Cintula was pictured attending a meeting alongside the fringe pro-Russian paramilitary organisation Slovak Conscript. In a Facebook post at the time, Cintula praised the group for “protecting the country’s tradition and culture”.
A member of the Slovak Writers’ Association, Cintula sometimes tapped into anti-migrant narratives in his writing. According to an analysis by the Slovakian outlet Postoj, in at least one of his published works he expressed xenophobic views against the Romany community in Slovakia, a popular topic among the country’s far-right parties.
In February, Cintula was photographed joining a protest in Bratislava against Fico’s proposed changes to criminal law, aimed at reducing penalties for corruption and economic crimes. In the last few months, thousands of Slovaks have been rallying against what they perceive as plans by the populist Fico government to dismantle democratic institutions, in particular the public broadcaster.
Slovakia’s political landscape has been sharply separated for years between pro-European and nationalist-leaning factions led by Fico. This split has been further intensified by the recent elections, which, say critics, were characterised by disinformation and verbal attacks on social media by Fico and his supporters
The conflicting reports about Cintula’s motives, which slowly began to emerge on Thursday, appear to have caused further division and confusion in Levice.
“Of course, everyone talks about this right now. Nothing like this ever happened here,” said Martin, who lived not far from Cintula and occasionally saw him walking around but did not know him personally. Martin declined to give his last name.
“Some say he was some pro-Russian activist, others call him a leftwing terrorist and blame the opposition for stoking the attack. It depends on who you ask and who they voted for,” said Martin, adding that Levice, like much of Slovakia, was divided along political lines.
“The shooting is, of course, tragic and every single Slovak should condemn it,” Martin continued. “But at the same time, Fico and his party were the ones contributing to this climate of hate in society.”
Sensing spiralling tensions, officials in Slovakia were urging restraint on Thursday.
“The hateful rhetoric we have witnessed has to stop,” said Slovakia’s president, Zuzana Čaputová, at a news conference in the capital, Bratislava. Last June, Čaputová announced she would not run for re-election after receiving death threats.
“What happened yesterday was an individual act. But the tense atmosphere of hatred was our collective work,” she said, adding: “Let us step out of the vicious circle of hatred and mutual accusations.”
Appearing alongside Čaputová at a news conference, the president-elect, Peter Pellegrini – a friend and ally of Fico – said: “Slovakia must walk on the path of peace, not reply to hatred with hatred.”
But some in Levice said they feared Wednesday’s attack would further contribute to the fractious atmosphere dominating Slovakia. “I hope I am wrong but I believe this will not be the last shooting,” said Jana Bačík, a 22-year-old student.
