The story
As you stand in the center of Malostranské náměstí, your eyes are naturally drawn upward to the massive green dome and the elegant, white-washed tower of St. Nicholas Church. This is the heart of Prague’s Lesser Town, a masterpiece of High Baroque architecture designed by the father-and-son duo, the Dientzenhofers.
But as you look at that slender bell tower, keep in mind that for decades, it held a secret that had nothing to do with religion and everything to do with the shadowy world of Cold War espionage. While the church itself belonged to the Jesuits, the bell tower was always owned by the municipality. This legal distinction became crucial after the Communist coup of 1948.
Because the city owned the tower, the StB—the feared Czechoslovak secret police—could move in without needing the blessing of the clergy. They transformed this soaring steeple into an observation post codenamed "Kajka." If you were to climb the 215 stone steps today, you would pass the former living quarters of the city watchman.
But higher up, just below the bells, you would find a tiny, unassuming room. From the 1950s until the Velvet Revolution in 1989, this was a high-tech nest for surveillance. Agents sat here in the freezing cold or stifling heat, peering through high-powered binoculars and long-lens cameras.
Why this specific tower? Look around the neighborhood from your current vantage point. This area is the diplomatic heart of Prague.
From the top of St. Nicholas, the secret police had a direct, unobstructed line of sight into the gardens and entrances of the Western embassies. They kept a 24-hour watch on the American Embassy in the Schoenborn Palace and the West German Embassy in the Lobkowicz Palace.
Every diplomat, every visitor, and every suspected defector who entered those gates was logged, photographed, and tracked. The agents even had a specialized lift installed to move equipment and personnel quickly, and a direct telephone line to the StB headquarters. It is a chilling contrast to think of these spies drinking coffee and snapping surveillance photos while, just a few feet away, the beautiful bells of St.
Nicholas rang out over the red-tiled roofs of Prague. Today, the "Kajka" observation post is preserved as a museum, a haunting reminder of a time when the city's most beautiful landmarks were used to keep its citizens under a watchful eye. As you continue your walk through the square, look up at those narrow windows near the top once more.
They no longer hide cameras; they only offer one of the most breathtaking views of a free and open Prague.