Duplicating Democracy: How One Man And An Edison Mimeograph Helped To Upend A Regime
- Dillion Liskai
- 2 days ago
- 8 min read
Acknowledgement: I want to first start this article by sincerely thanking the man who helped bring it to life, Mr. Stanislav Pitaš! He graciously took time out of his day (over multiple days) to answer my many questions, even though he certainly did not have to. For that, along with his commitment to democracy, freedom, and human rights, I am forever grateful. Without men and women like Stanislav and his fellow members of the Czech underground, our world would look much different from what it is. Suppose you would like to learn more about his incredible story. In that case, you can click this link to Paměť Národa, an extensive collection of witnesses' memories in Europe, translated from Czech into English. It will never be enough, but all I can say to Mr. Pitaš is “děkuji”.
At the Thomas A. Edison Birthplace, one of the penultimate stops in our tour of the home is in a room that I often refer to as the “Invention Room”. When Thomas lived in the house in the late 1840s and 1850s, the room would have been used as a spare bedroom so that guests who visited the Edisons back in the day could have somewhere to rest for the night. When the Birthplace was officially opened on February 11, 1947, the room was repurposed from a guest bedroom into a showcase for some of Thomas’ jaw-dropping 1,093 patents.

One of those numerous patents on display in the Invention Room is an Edison Mimeograph. Amidst phonographs, lightbulbs, and motion picture cameras, the mimeograph is an Edison machine that is often forgotten. It is an old invention that actually predates the aforementioned marquee inventions that we attribute to Edison. In 1876, Edison received a patent for what he called the “electric pen and duplicating press”. He took out another patent on the duplicating press, then sold his patents and the licenses to them to Albert Blake Dick, an inventor out of Chicago who improved the machine and christened it “the mimeograph”. It worked by inking a roller and then applying the roller to a stencil. The roller and the stencil would leave an exact copy of what you wanted to copy on a fresh piece of paper. It was incredibly easy to use and very inexpensive. He began selling the machine under the name “Edison Mimeograph” in 1887, and soon the copy machine Edison had developed was being sold to the masses.
Edison Mimeographs were commonly used in schools, churches, and office buildings across the United States from the late 1800s to the early 1900s. As alluded to earlier, the machines were easy to use and to purchase. Not to mention, the “Edison” name, which stood for innovation, professionalism, and practicality in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, was plastered all over the machine. As photocopiers such as the Xerox machine were invented, Edison Mimeographs began to be discarded and forgotten here in the United States. Across the Atlantic Ocean, however, one Czechoslovak dissident living behind the Iron Curtain was busy giving the Edison Mimeograph a second life, far from copying lesson plans and Sunday church bulletins. In heavily monitored places where the truth was dangerous and words were weapons, this humble machine became a revolutionary force.
That dissident fueling the drive for democracy with an Edison Mimeograph in the former Czechoslovakia was Stanislav Pitaš. He was born in 1957 in Kocbeře, a small village near the modern-day border between the Czech Republic and Poland. He was not born under democracy, but instead, under the banner of a harsh authoritarian regime. The Czechoslovak Socialist Republic (ČSSR) was a satellite state of the Soviet Union, and the country lacked many of the freedoms we cherish here in the United States. When Stanislav was only 10 years old, the USSR rolled tanks and troops into Czechoslovakia to shut down the Prague Spring, which was an attempt to give more social, political, and economic rights to the people. Stanislav recalled the Soviet occupation, “Crowds were not allowed to form on the street. People were panicking that there would be no food, and they were shopping like crazy. At that time, milk was still sold in cans; I remember that people carried it home in buckets, and it would splash on the roads.”
If the Soviets thought the military occupation of Czechoslovakia would stop calls for change, they were sorely mistaken. While the Soviet occupation might have slammed a door shut on liberty in 1968, it sparked a much larger reform movement in Czechoslovakia that moved underground in the 1970s. Any opposition to the communist government was being spied upon, hunted down, and locked up by the StB, the Czechoslovak version of the East German Stasi and the Soviet KGB. Stanislav was introduced to the underground reform movement in his early twenties and became close friends with two of the largest dissidents, Olga and Václav Havel.
In 1977, hundreds, and later thousands, of Czech and Slovak individuals signed Charter 77, a petition calling upon the communist government to respect and recognize the international human rights agreements it had signed. Much like the signers of the Declaration of Independence, the signers of Charter 77 risked their lives and livelihoods by signing their names in support of democracy and human rights. Stanislav signed the charter in 1981, and at the time, spreading Charter 77 was considered a political crime. So, what did Stanislav and other members of the Czech underground do? They started to make copies of it using an Edison Mimeograph.
Despite intense StB surveillance, Mr. Pitaš told me that in 1981, he began using his Edison Mimeograph to reproduce all sorts of pro-democracy propaganda, banned printed matter, and books outlawed by the communist authorities. This banned literature, known to the Soviets as “samizdat”, was being produced on a massive scale throughout not just Czechoslovakia, but throughout the Soviet satellite states. The writing coming off machines like Stanislav’s Edison Mimeograph gave a voice to the voiceless, often at significant risk to the lives of those printing it. I asked Mr. Pitaš whether he had ever been scared of the potential repercussions of reprinting samizdat, and he responded, “Of course I was worried about the possible consequences, but at the same time, I felt that I could not remain silent.”

Stanislav and his fellow dissidents did indeed face those consequences. The StB searched his home, and he had the StB trailing his every step. He pointed out how crazy things were by sending me a picture from his 1987 wedding. In the photo, you can see Olga Havel, an ardent supporter of the Czech underground's most prominent dissident. He also pointed out that at least four of the most active undercover StB agents were in attendance at his wedding. He told me, “You can see how complicated my life was, thanks to the fight for democracy.” He was imprisoned on three separate occasions in a span of four years for made-up charges. During his final stint in prison, he was promised by the government that he would be released for a day to visit his dying mother. Still, the authorities betrayed him and not only disallowed him from seeing her, but also disallowed him from attending her funeral.

Just days after his mother passed away, the Velvet Revolution began. Led by Stanislav’s friend, Václav Havel, and more importantly, led by the people of Czechoslovakia, over half a million citizens took to the streets. Inspired by the publications produced by Stanislav’s Edison Mimeograph and by the work of all of his fellow dissidents, thousands came together. They overthrew the communist regime without violence on November 28, 1989. A few days later, Stanislav and his fellow political prisoners were released. By the end of the year, Václav Havel was elected President of Czechoslovakia and soon became the first President of the Czech Republic. Pitaš and his fellow dissidents had brought democracy and freedom to their homeland.

The fight for democracy didn’t end in 1989. Mr. Pitaš is still an active fighter for democracy to this very day, and he keeps fighting because, as he told me, “Democracy is a fragile thing, and if people stop guarding it, and if they are taken in by prosperity and cheap promises, they may lose it.” He served on police review commissions investigating the wrongs committed by the police and the StB under the former regime, and in 2006, he was elected as deputy mayor of the village of Šonov. It was the first time communists had ever lost in Šonov. He told me that he still uses the same Edison Mimeograph he used in the 1980s today to make exhibitions called “Production, Distribution, The Meaning of Samizdat”. He travels to high schools and universities to give a talk on his “Life In Dissent”. When he isn’t fighting for political freedom and human rights, he hosts concerts featuring Czech and foreign bands at his underground club “Eden” in Broumov.

The Edison Mimeograph was never intended to shape revolutions. History, however, often takes ordinary tools and places them in extraordinary hands. Thomas Edison was no exception, and neither was Stanislav Pitaš. In the hands of Stanislav Pitaš and his fellow members of the Czech underground, it became more than an outdated machine. It got a second life, and it gave those in the former Czechoslovakia a second life too. It became a megaphone for liberty, and instead of just copying words on a piece of paper, it began copying things far more valuable. Hope. Democracy. Freedom.
Sources Used and Encouraged for Further Reading
Bárta, Jan. 2019. “PITAŠ, STANISLAV.” Courage Connecting Collections. http://cultural-opposition.eu/registry/?uri=http://courage.btk.mta.hu/courage/individual/n9284
Dobbs, Michael. 1978. “Prague Tightens Grip On Liberal Intellectuals.” Washington Post (Washington), June 8, 1978. https://www.cia.gov/readingroom/docs/CIA-RDP88-01315R000400260006-7.pdf
Helland, Madeline. 2021. “THE HISTORY OF THE MIMEOGRAPH — International Printing Museum.” International Printing Museum. https://www.printmuseum.org/blog-3/history-of-the-mimeograph
Kopsa, Andy. 2019. “What to Know About Czechoslovakia's Velvet Revolution.” Time Magazine. https://time.com/5730106/velvet-revolution-history/
Machovec, Martin. 2014. “On Czech Samizdat and Tamizdat: Banned Books of 1970s and 1980s.” Fair Observer. https://www.fairobserver.com/region/europe/czech-samizdat-tamizdat-banned-books-1970s-1980s/
Mellby, Julie L. 2009. “The Edison Mimeograph - Graphic Arts.” Princeton University. https://www.princeton.edu/~graphicarts/2009/11/the_edison_mimeograph.html
The Museum of Printing. n.d. “Mimeograph Machines.” Museum of Printing. Accessed June 27, 2025. https://museumofprinting.org/blog/mimeograph-machines/
Paměť Národa (Memory Of Nations). n.d. “Stanislav Pitaš (1957).” Witnesses. Accessed June 27, 2025. https://www.memoryofnations.eu/en/pitas-stanislav-1957
Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty. 1997. “Czech Republic/Slovakia: Text Of Charter 77.” Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty. https://www.rferl.org/a/1083022.html
“Report Prepared in the Bureau of Intelligence and Research, Department of State: The Human Rights Movement In Czechoslovakia.” 1979. Historical Documents - Office of the Historian of The U.S. Department of State. https://history.state.gov/historicaldocuments/frus1977-80v20/d110
Rutgers University-New Brunswick School of Arts and Sciences' Thomas A. Edison Papers. n.d. “A. B. Dick Company.” Thomas A. Edison Papers. Accessed June 27, 2025. https://edison.rutgers.edu/life-of-edison/companies/company-details/office-machinery-and-supplies/a-b-dick-company
Weber, Greta. 2016. “How an Obsolete Copy Machine Started a Revolution.” National Geographic. https://www.nationalgeographic.com/adventure/article/mimeo-mimeograph-revolution-literature-beat-poetry-activism
Dillon Liskai, a native of Clyde, Ohio, is a Bowling Green State University junior. He is pursuing a degree in Adolescent to Young Adult (AYA) Integrated Social Studies Education, specializing in History.
Dillon has been a Thomas A. Edison Birthplace Museum tour guide for three years. When not at school or the museum, he enjoys cheering on the Bowling Green Falcons, spending time with friends and family, and exploring local history.
Have a question for Dillon? Reach out via email at dliskai@tomedison.org!
