# The Making of a State/Chapter 9

CHAPTER IX
THE RISE OF THE CZECHOSLOVAK REPUBLIC
THERE is much truth in the saying that States are preserved by the same political forces as those which engendered them. For this reason I shall sum up the story of our work abroad in a systematic account of its political and juridical significance, so as to show how our Republic arose and how we attained independence.
Generally speaking, our independence is a fruit of the fall of Austria-Hungary and of the world conflagration. In vanquishing Germany and Austria, the Allies won our freedom and made it possible. At the Peace Conferences the victors established a new order in Western and Central Europe. We took part in these conferences from beginning to end and signed the Treaties, since the Allies, recognizing and accepting our programme of liberation, had admitted us during the war into the areopagus of belligerent nations in whose hands the decision lay. And our former enemies presently recognized our independence in their turn by signing and by giving constitutional ratification to the Peace Treaties.
Yet it was only by our resistance to Austria-Hungary and by our revolt against her that we earned our independence. As President Poincaré tersely said, we won it by fighting in France, Italy and Russia. The peculiarity of our revolt lay in its not being carried through by force of arms on our own soil, but abroad, on foreign soil. As a people we were bound to take part in the war. Otherwise independence would not have been attained-assuredly not in the degree in which we attained it. Herein lie the meaning and the political value of our Legions in Russia, France and Italy. They secured for us the goodwill and the help of the Western Powers, while the march through Siberia gained us the liking of the Allied public at large and the respect even of our enemies.
Together with the Legions, those of our soldiers who helped to break up the Austrian Army by active and passive resistance lent essential aid to the cause, especially those who, in resisting, forfeited their lives. Every execution of such men dug deeper the grave of the authorities in Vienna and Budapest, for it proved that our people was locked in a life and death struggle with them. And every such execution we brought to public ​knowledge abroad, arraigning Austria openly and charging her with persecution and cruelty. In the young sculptor Sapík the spirit of the people was finely revealed. Mobilized and sent to the Russian front, he said, in bidding farewell to his friends at Prague, “I know I shall fall, but I will fire no shot against Russia.” Hardly had he reached the front when he fell—having kept his word. Of such as he there were many thousands. The civilians, too, who were executed under the Austrian military terror; or who, like Dr. Kramář and Dr. Rašín, were condemned to death and imprisoned; and those whose property was confiscated or who were made to suffer in other ways, all bore their part in the work of liberation—they and the nameless souls in all classes of the Czech people for whom Austrian persecution made bitterer still the bitter time of war. Our freedom was truly bought with blood.
Other factors in the struggle were the diplomatic action and the propaganda of our National Council abroad. We formed the Legions, developed them into an army, and turned their share in the war to political account. The National Council abroad was the organ of men at home who discerned the nature of the world war and took the fateful decision either to carry on our revolt in foreign countries or to support it effectively by subterranean action at home. Everywhere, even in Russia, the main task was to break down traditional pro-Austrianism; and in this we succeeded.
We, who were abroad, managed besides to convince the Allies of our historical and natural right to independence. We revealed to them the true character of the Hapsburg absolutism. We showed that, under cover of constitutional appearances, a minority ruled over a majority in Austria-Hungary and that things in Austria and Hungary were as anachronistic and anomalous as was the Caesarism of Prussia and Russia. This the Western peoples understood as regards Prussia and Russia, and it was our business to persuade them that the Caesarism of Vienna was no better, nay, in many respects, worse. We dwelt upon the cruelty of Austria towards those of her peoples who were not of her mind, upon her dependence on Germany and pan-German policy, and upon her heavy share of war guilt; and, by showing what part our people had taken in the development of European culture, we justified our claim to independence. Even among the masses of the Allied peoples our four years’ propaganda spread these truths and drove them home.
Pro-Austrianism did not consist merely of a liking for Austria and Vienna, but was inspired by the traditional view ​that Austria was a dam against Germany; and though the war was in itself a refutation of this view, it still prevailed. As I have shown, it was very strong in all Allied and neutral countries, and it was no easy matter to overcome it, the less easy because many of us had long sought to persuade the world that Austria was a necessity. Besides, an intense pro-Austrian propaganda worked against us. Our victory was therefore the more remarkable. The Allies knew less than we about Austria-Hungary, and they were totally unacquainted with the complicated racial and economic conditions in Eastern Europe. Our long experience and study of Eastern Europe enabled us therefore to put forward a positively-conceived policy against Austria and Germany. Indeed, as I have said in referring to my first official interview with Briand, we supplied the Allies with a political programme. This is no exaggeration, as our friends in France, England and America admit. Nor did we give them only our programme. We gave them programmes for the liberation of other peoples and for the reconstruction of Europe as a whole. Of this, proof may be found in my work “The New Europe” which was handed in French and English to all the Allied delegates to the Peace Conferences at the end of the war.
Moreover, in our propaganda and action abroad, we were financially independent of the Allies. We declined even the friendliest offers of assistance. This is one of the reasons why we disavowed the attempt of the Russian Government to create its own paid “Czech National Council.” The only case in which I took an English subsidy was in that of our American Secret Service, as I was entitled to do because it was doing special work exclusively for the Allies. True, we maintained our Legions on credit, but we kept them independent. Though I knew that I was thus mortgaging the Budget of our future State, it seemed to me the only right course.
Several instances of financial dependence which came under my notice strengthened me in this decision. The surprise which it caused some political men in Allied countries proves how weighty it was. They thought we disposed of immense funds, derived from financial resources at home. Thus our revolutionary prestige was enhanced in their eyes. I heard, however, that Austrian agents denounced us to the French as being subsidized by Austria, and there were even people who maintained that we were tools of Germany! The ways of Austrian and German propaganda were truly wonderful. My standpoint was and is that we had a right to a State of our own ​but that we must vindicate this right ourselves, win our independence anew and preserve it by our own strength. We needed to ask for nothing and we asked for nothing except the friendship and the help of all the Allies. It was, is, and always will be our duty to work strenuously and to be ready for self-sacrifice. This was not only a matter of principle; for, in practice, it meant that our National Council and our army stood on their own feet and were by no means mere political instruments of the Allies.
The Work at Home.
At home there was the same fighting spirit. Our revolt abroad would have been impossible if the people in general had not assented to it from the outset and throughout the war. It is true that, for the first three years, there was no unitary movement embracing all political leaders, parties and members of Parliament. Political leadership was paralysed by the Government—Klofáč, and afterwards Kramář and Rašín, were imprisoned and Stříbrný was mobilized—so that the nation was deprived of visible guidance by its political organizations. Nor, until the end of the war, was armed revolt at home contemplated by the principal parties. It could not be, and there was no need of it; but the whole people took their stand against Austria and showed their ripe sense and their determination in passive and, at the right moment, in active resistance. If our Allies expected an insurrection, and took us to task from time to time because it did not break out, they were wrong and unjust. It was enough that the mass of the nation declined to capitulate to political and military terrorism. Individuals sealed their resistance with their blood. The bulk of the people maintained discipline and, by work, kept themselves healthy and their spirit unbreakable. There were moments of depression (as I realized during the first four months of the war); some individuals and groups lost heart, though rather on account of uncertainty than from fear.
Our people seem to me to have shown remarkable organizing ability and political sense in developing cooperative societies for the supply of food, so that hunger should not weaken their resolution. The work was done chiefly in Bohemia and Moravia, and, to some extent, among the Czechs in Vienna where, however, supplies, especially of meat, were managed by the State. Those of our friends abroad who were, at times, tempted to think our people too passive, failed to understand the worth of this painstaking work in little things; and the action of charit​able organizations like the “Czech Heart” was political as well as philanthropic.
The education which our people had enjoyed since our national renascence, came out in this work of detail and in their general discipline. The efforts of Dobrovský, Jungmann, Kollár, Palacký, Šafařík and Havlíček as well as those of Rieger, Sladkovský and their younger disciples, together with the influence of our literature, art and, above all, of our schools, had spread a political culture and a national consciousness of which the result was an imposing unanimity. Encouragement and strength were derived from Smetana’s music, for Smetana himself had, in his youth, taken part in the revolution of 1848 and his operas foreshadowed our liberation. His “Libuša” is more than a prophecy; it is the musical festival of a nation inwardly set free. Or, to take another example. In those days at Prague Palacký’s writings were sold out. Thinking people immersed themselves in his national programme and in the testament of the Father of the Nation—an eloquent proof of political maturity. The quality and the level of our education I measure by the fact that neither at home nor, I believe, abroad, was a traitor to be found. Štefánik’s probably baseless suspicion I have already mentioned; and I need only say that whereas, according to the latest estimates, 285 Germans were condemned for high treason, only 140 such cases are recorded in Allied countries.
Nor should the influence of our national institutions for physical and moral culture, such as the Sokols and other associations, be overlooked. A nation is an organized whole. These agencies, together with our political parties, organized it. Yet it needs a centre for union and cohesion if not for leadership. In our case leadership was supplied by the press, particularly by those journals which, with tactical skill, withstood the military terrorism. By purposeful adroitness they revived sinking spirits, using language incomprehensible to the enemy though comprehensible to every Czech; and the necessary point of cohesion was provided by a few political leaders working in unison. The so-called “Maffia” played an important part from the outset, directing the struggle at home, keeping up communications with us abroad, maintaining the fighting spirit and, at the same time, disseminating news from the Allied world.
As regards the political parties themselves, the lack of unity, the personal and political dispersion that were so noticeable before the war, continued for some time after the war. ​Attempts to bring them together in 1915 having failed, the “Czech Association” was formed towards the end of 1916 out of members of Parliament and the old “National Committee.” In July 1918 a new “National Committee” arose. It included representatives of all parties; and we abroad hoped it would lead to more consistent and unified action against Austria. In what precise relationship it stood to the “Socialist Council,” set up in September 1918, is not yet clear. The Socialist Council seems to have been at once an effect of the Russian Revolution and an expression of the desire to unite the Socialist masses.
Between the political mood of the people and the policy of the responsible members of Parliament, difficulties and some antagonism naturally arose as the military situation developed. To the disavowal of our work abroad in January 1917 I have already referred—showing that it coincided with the beginning of the Emperor’s peace negotiations—as well as to the political haziness revealed by the omission of a demand for the liberation of Slovakia and for its union with our State from the original drafts of the Declaration prepared for the first sitting of the Austrian Reichsrat. This omission was, however, made good in the final text of the Declaration on May 30, 1917. I know only too well that it was no easy matter to provide for the inclusion of Slovakia. The Slovaks were unknown, the pro-Austrians and the pro-Magyars exploited against us the statements of some of our leading men and made play with our official policy which restricted our aims to the historical rights of the Lands of the Bohemian Crown. And it is noteworthy that one of our historians also opposed our union with Slovakia.
Nor should it be forgotten, in judging the policy of our members of Parliament, that, during the early years of the war, Austria and Germany were victorious and that Russia, from whom so much had been hoped, was the source of many a disappointment. Thus it is comprehensible that not a few of our members should have been ready-to-halt and that the policy of liberation should have been regarded with some degree of scepticism. An Austrian General is reported to have said of the Czechs: “They join the colours like lambs; they fight like lions; and, when we lose, they are as happy as sandboys.” This is a little wide of the mark but it indicates, nevertheless, some degree of indecision and uncertainty on the part of a dependent people groaning under military terrorism.
Perhaps, too, some members of Parliament felt more or less ​doubtful of our capacity for independence—doubts not always inspired by Austrian terrorism but by political reflection. Though we reported frequently upon the encouraging prospects abroad and urged our people to hold fast, the isolation of our leaders at home from the outside world and the pressure of Vienna upon them neutralized in part the effect of our reports, which may indeed have been thought exaggerated. But the people at large did not waver, even if they were more hopeful at some moments than at others. They wanted complete independence, independence of Austria and the Hapsburgs, as I was sure they wanted it when I went abroad. This desire was justified by our whole evolution under Austria. It could not be freely expressed in the early war years because Austria and Germany were still strong and triumphant; but, by the spring of 1917 when the power of Vienna and of the new Emperor were declining, hearts were beating high in Prague. Then, soon after the disavowal, our writers bestirred themselves. Firmer, albeit still prudent, manifestations followed. Among the workmen, led by the metal workers of the Daněk factories, there was marked political excitement. “Hunger” demonstrations were organized, and a deputation was sent to the Lord Lieutenant demanding the liberation of Dr. Kramář and of Dr. Adler. Some of these workmen were drafted into the army but the others placed themselves at the disposal of our members of Parliament.
From the summer and autumn of 1917 onwards we felt abroad that our members of Parliament were working more decidedly and unitedly against Austria. The declarations they issued on January 6 and April 18, 1918, stood us in good stead. Little by little, the new National Committee secured the assent of all parties to the demand for a completely independent Czechoslovak State—which was our programme abroad; and, when the time was ripe, the leaders of the National Committee gave formal and solemn sanction to this programme at Geneva, while other leaders carried through the revolution at home in the same sense, even though they adapted themselves tactically to circumstances in the decaying Austrian State.
Our foreign colonies likewise did their duty. As a branch of the nation in distant lands and other continents, each colony lives amid different surroundings and under other conditions. Yet, despite their isolation, despite these differences, they were united in the endeavour to secure national independence. Each gave its mite. Political and personal antagonisms were got over with comparative ease, not even the Dürich affair ​doing lasting damage. The mistakes of some individuals and groups did but serve to bring out more clearly the general discipline of our people.
De Facto and De Jure.
It is now necessary to examine in some detail the circumstances in which our State arose de facto, politically and materially, and those which gave it de jure, lawful, formal existence, that is to say, how our historical and natural right to an independent State was recognized by the Allies and afterwards by the Central Powers, and how our revolution abroad and at home was legalized.
In my work abroad I was always careful to cast our political programme into a juridical form, since I had in mind the legal and international problems that would arise at the Peace Conference. Our right to independence I endeavoured to define as exactly as possible so that foreign public opinion might become familiar with it. This was, indeed, the kernel of our propaganda. Starting from the historical rights of the Lands of the Bohemian Crown, which entitled us to the complete restoration of our State, I explained that, de jure, our State had never ceased to exist, and I invoked also our natural right to independence and unity with especial reference to Slovakia. As I was fully aware that, like our National Council abroad, I was a revolutionary instrument, I expected the official representatives of other States to take their stand upon the Legitimist principle in dealing with me. They did so at first, even in regard to our prisoners of war, though not always consistently or in a hostile spirit. But much tact, and utilization of the growing feeling against Germany and her Allies, were necessary in order to establish regular relations between our National Council and the Allied Governments. Express recognition came later. The Allies were waging regular war against Austria-Hungary and observed international usage and wont. But when this usage was violated by the German invasion of Belgium, by the support given to the anti-English agitation in Ireland and by the propaganda in America against America, the Legitimist principle faded and we were recognized de facto and, presently, de jure. The work done by Voska in America and by Dr. Osuský and others in Switzerland in revealing these German and Austrian manœuvres was therefore of great value.
As time went on, our propaganda spread knowledge of our historical rights; and our natural rights and the justification ​of our revolt were also recognized by the more advanced public men and parties. Our efforts to gain freedom appealed to Western opinion. I, as a member of Parliament, was looked upon not only as the representative of my own constituency but as that of the whole people. When I said that I was acting in agreement with the majority of our political parties and of their leaders, my statements were believed. My status as a mandatory was everywhere regarded as important; and as early as 1914 my friends Steed and Seton-Watson had thought it essential in England. Even when negotiating with Dr. Beneš on the subject of our recognition in 1918, Mr. Balfour, as British Foreign Secretary, still felt some doubt whether our National Council was sufficiently representative of the whole nation. My knowledge of Western Parliamentarism had led me to submit my political programme to all our party leaders before I left Prague and to ask for their opinion and assent; and though I was not in a position formally to answer for these parties or to get written confirmation from them, their assent entitled me to regard myself as authorized by them; and in 1915 I had applied directly to them for this authority.
After our National Council abroad had been regularly constituted in 1916, it gained influence in proportion as we organized our army and, by taking part in the war, became to some extent a military factor. The army convinced everybody that we were in earnest. The National Council became a de facto Government which, like our army, was progressively recognized by the Allied Governments. The various formulas of recognition show how far the National Council (afterwards the Provisional Government) was recognized de facto, and how far de jure. It is interesting to compare these formulas for, if right is understood as a political expression of actual events, they reflect in no small measure the political and military situation. Indeed, the table of recognitions given in the appendix shows how closely they kept pace with our military progress. Their significance depends upon the circumstances out of which they arose and the importance of the persons who granted them. Certainly President Wilson’s recognition of us was very weighty because of the constitutional position of the American President and of his special relationship to his Government. In England, Italy and France, governments are stronger than in America, and there is no authority corresponding to the President of the United States. The Kings of England and of Italy and the President of the French Republic have not the same responsibility as he for acts of the Government. Therefore, in these ​countries, it is recognition by the Government that counts. All the Allies felt the great importance of America and it was for this reason that Wilson’s final answer to Austria had so potent an effect.
The formulas of recognition were not merely unilateral promises, prudently worded. Some of them were regular bilateral treaties. All of them were preceded by negotiations between our National Council, or Provisional Government, and the Allied Governments. The recognition of the National Council—in the first instance only of my own person—and of our National programme, began unofficially through individual public men, such as the American Senator Kenyon who, on May 25, 1917, declared in Congress that the independence of the Czech nation must be a condition of peace. Similar individual declarations were made in the French Parliament, in England and in Russia. Then came the recognition of our rights by individual Ministers and, finally, by Governments. Some political men and lawyers were perturbed by the circumstances that our National Council, or Provisional Government, was established abroad, not on the territory which we claimed for the Czech State, and that our army had likewise been created and was operating outside our country. I answered by citing the analogy of the Serbian Government at Corfu; and, in the long run, the Allies made no bones about the matter.
The dates of the various recognitions and the conditions under which they were granted must also be borne in mind. France took the initiative at the beginning of 1916 and again in 1917; and though, as a Monarchy, England is more conservative, she willingly accepted our National Council and recognized our State rights. This is why I value so highly Mr. Asquith’s early decision to take the chair at my first lecture in London University; and the formal declaration upon which Mr. Balfour agreed with Dr. Beneš, involves very complete recognition. Monarchical Italy got into touch with me very early at Berne and maintained contact with Štéfánik and Beneš. If Sonnino’s and Orlando’s formulas of recognition were marked by some reserve on account of the Southern Slav question, the Italian Government gave ready support to the formation of our Legions, and we are indebted to it for the organization of our reserves after the conclusion of the Armistice.
Yet the negotiations with the Allied Governments for recognition were often long and difficult. There is, for instance, a great difference between recognizing a right to independence and direct recognition of the independence itself; and there is a ​certain difference between the recognition of our National Council and the subsequent recognition of it as a Provisional Government. Of this the negotiations with Mr. Balfour are an example. To the account which Dr. Beneš has already made public I may add that the British Minister’s reluctance to recognize the National Council directly as a Government was happily overcome by the word “trustee” which Mr. Steed suggested to Dr. Beneš.
The Leagal Birth of our State.
The question arises when and how our State arose, and how long it has been in existence. How and when was it internationally recognized, what is the international legal significance of the various recognitions, and which of them are internationally and juridically decisive?
It is no easy matter for international and constitutional lawyers to answer these or other questions relating to the birth of new States. The world war created political and legal conditions which lay beyond the scope of recognized international jurisprudence in regard to all the new States. In our case, the general situation and our position in Austria-Hungary made our independence legally and internationally contingent upon recognition by the Allies in the first place. Mr. Temperley, the English historian of the Paris Peace Conference, dates the decisive validity of the recognition of our State from the admission of Czechoslovak plenipotentiaries to the plenary sitting of the Paris Conference on January 18, 1918; but he is uncertain whether November 5, 1918—when the representatives of our National Committee returned to Prague from Geneva, where they had established a direct connexion with our Paris National Council and Provisional Government, ought not to be regarded as our State birthday. He attaches so much importance to this “direct” connexion because several of the formulas of recognition which the Paris National Council had received undeniably possessed State-creative authority. Such authority he finds in the declarations of Mr. Balfour (August 9), of President Wilson (September 8), of M. Pichon (October 16), and of Baron Sonnino (October 24), 1918.
Seton-Watson accepts Temperley’s view of the State-creative. value of our admission to the Peace Conference, but he ascribes approximately equal importance to the British, American and above all the French recognitions. Others see State-creative force in the recognition of the Provisional Government and of ​the National Council. The difficulty lies in the circumstance that an independent State usually arises on the territory inhabited by its citizens. In our case, however, the Government and army abroad were recognized and therefore the State or, at least, the principle of State independence. Thus the reality departed from previous theory and usage. A further complication lay in the revolution at home. On October 28, 1918, the Prague National Committee proclaimed itself expressly as a Government “from this day onwards”; and both it and the first Statute announced the formation of the Czechoslovak State. This first Statute, albeit with some amendments, was put on the Statute Book and marked the beginning of a special independent legislative authority.
The position was therefore that, after receiving recognition from many quarters, the National Council abroad proclaimed itself as the Government of the Czechoslovak State and was recognized as such both by the Allies and by the chairman and the representatives of the National Committee at home. But, on the other hand, the National Committee at Prague also proclaimed itself as a Government. So, for a time, we had two Governments, one abroad recognized by the Allies, and one at home set up by right of revolution. The establishment of these two centres of action was due to the peculiar character of our revolt against Austria, which was carried out abroad and at home. But the important thing was that both centres, both de facto Governments, worked hand in hand and that no antagonism arose between them such as, for instance, arose between the Polish Governments in Warsaw and in Paris. As soon as our home Government was set up, it naturally became the head of the administration, and derived from this position its character and its authority, while the embryonic Government abroad had its own military and diplomatic work to do, particularly in connexion with the peace negotiations. The problem was then to unite the two Governments.
When, therefore, did our State begin? Some writers conclude that it began on October 14, 1918, when the transformation of our National Council abroad into a Provisional Government was notified to the Allies. The French Government was the first to recognize it on October 15, and this recognition Seton-Watson regards as decisive. I agree with him and hold that our State has existed de jure since that day. On the other hand, the view was held that its existence dates from the Washington Declaration of Independence on October 18; but the history of the Declaration proves that it was the act of a Govern​ment already in being. Hence the decisive character of the date on which this Government was recognized. At home, the National Committee proclaimed itself as a Government on October 28, the date now generally accepted as the birthday ofour State. But the Allied Governments negotiated with the Provisional Government abroad as the true representative of the nation and of the State from the moment they had recognized it. Their recognition, given during the war, was valid after the war and above all for the Peace Conference, as is eloquently proved by the inviting of Dr. Beneš to take part in settling the terms of the Armistice with Germany on November 4. Consequently, Dr. Beneš was looked upon as the representative of an independent Allied State, and he signed with the others the Minutes of these historic proceedings. The international significance of this document comes out most clearly if we consider the conduct of the Great Powers towards other States which were in process of formation, especially Yugoslavia and Poland. Serbia was invited to the Peace Conference as an independent Allied State; but it was long before Croatia—which was looked upon as a part of Austria-Hungary—was recognized as a portion of Yugoslavia. Hence the difficulty of securing recognition for Yugoslavia as distinguished from Serbia; whereas Slovakia was regarded by the Allies from the outset as a component part of our United State, although Slovakia, like Croatia, had belonged to Hungary. In the case of Poland the Moraczewski Government at Warsaw, which Dmowski’s and Paderewski’s Polish Committee in Paris did not recognize, was only granted express recognition in February 1919. Meanwhile our Provisional Government had been exercising its functions abroad from the very beginning of the peace negotiations.
When the Armistice negotiations began, the French Government drafted a plan for the Peace Conference. Dr. Beneš sent me a report upon it, and the French Ambassador in Washington, M. Jusserand, handed it to the American Government on November 29. It distinguished between Czechoslovakia and States like Yugoslavia which were in process of formation. Nobody doubted that these States would be formed—indeed, the Allies regarded their formation as part of the peace programme—but there is a difference between a programme, a promise, and real complete recognition. Our National Council abroad had been recognized by the Allies as the supreme authority over our army abroad—this is what I had worked for so hard in Russia—and therefore as a Government, if only a ​Provisional Government. And a Government is the Government of a State. Its status is shown, moreover, by the fact that Dr. Beneš, as Foreign Minister in it, appointed our first diplomatic representatives before the revolution took place at home, and that these representatives were acknowledged by foreign Governments. And though, later on, I, as President, gave Dr. Kramář, the Prime Minister, when he went as a delegate to the Peace Conference, the same credentials as Dr. Beneš received, Beneš had taken part in the peace negotiations before getting his credentials, and all the official Allied documents referred to him as Minister.
As a matter of fact the French Government and political circles in Paris were disquieted by the proclamation of the National Committee and by the events of October 28 at Prague, because it was imagined that the Prague Government was pro-Austrian and that it had been set up against the Government abroad. News of the revolution may have reached Paris by way of Vienna and have described it as a pro-Austrian undertaking. The delegates of the Prague National Committee, who left for Geneva before the revolution, evidently knew nothing of what had happened at Prague on October 28. But at Geneva they understood the significance of the Allied recognition which we had received—especially from President Wilson—and, in their agreement with Dr. Beneš, they approved of the Provisional Government abroad and of all it had done. They also expressly addressed Dr. Beneš as Minister. Thus they confirmed the declarations of the Chairman of the Czech Association on October 2, and of the Prague National Committee on October 19, that the question of Czechoslovak independence was international and not susceptible of settlement in Austria. But under pressure of the home situation, the National Committee was obliged to take action on October 28 and to proclaim itself a Government; and, as we shall see, the Government abroad was presently liquidated.
A distinction must be made between the actual existence of our State and its earlier official beginning as determined by international recognition. The fact of the revolution at Prague and in the whole country on October 28, speaks in favour of the date October 28, 1918. The whole nation saw in the revolution the beginning of a State independent of and detached from Austria and the Hapsburgs. And, finally, the formal circumstance that, on October 28, the nation publicly declared itself independent on its own soil speaks in favour of that date. Indeed, many authorities on constitutional law regard this ​circumstance as the necessary condition of the creation of a State. And though, as I have said, I hold that our State exists de jure since October 15, 1918, I decide de facto for the date of October 28 on the grounds just given. The question has its practical as well as its theoretical side, for it might affect the beginning of our obligation to pay reparations. Though not a political institution, the Reparations Commission decided, on April 15, 1921, that Czechoslovakia became a co-belligerent through the revolution of October 28, 1918.
Juridically, these questions have not yet been thoroughly studied. In studying them constitutionally and politically lawyers will find many an interesting and surprising problem, in our case as well as in those of other States which arose after the war. Precise juridical formulation of the actual conditions was not immediately feasible; and critics will discover more than one gap in the negotiations for the Armistice and the Peace Treaties. As in all revolutions, we have as yet no exact account of what happened. Events followed so swiftly one upon another and were in themselves so indefinite that it is no easy matter to describe them with scientific precision.
The Revolution at Home.
Yet, for present purposes, it suffices to take the official documents and the public statements of the revolutionary leaders. During the night between October 27 and 28 special editions of the Prague newspapers announced that the Austro-Hungarian Foreign Minister, Count Andrássy, had accepted President Wilson’s peace conditions. Dr. Rašín and Dr. Soukup declared this acceptance to be “the dying words of Austria-Hungary and the end of the Hapsburg Monarchy”; and on the same day, Dr. Rašín’s manifesto appealed to the nation “not to dash the hopes of the civilized world which, with blessings on its lips, remembers thy glorious history culminating in the immortal deeds of the Czechoslovak Legions in Siberia and in the West. . . . Keep thy escutcheon bright as thy national army has kept it. . . . Belie not the faith of our liberators, Masaryk and Wilson, that they have won freedom for a people fit to govern itself. . . .”
Thus Dr. Rašín repeated what our representatives had declared in Vienna on October 2, when Staněk, the Chairman of the Czech Association, had made a speech recognizing the National Council abroad and our Legions in the name of all Czech members of Parliament. He said to the Austrians, “You ​wished to exclude us from the peace negotiations, but now, against your will, you will find Czechs taking part in them, as representatives of the Czechoslovak brigades. With them you will have to negotiate upon the Czech question, not with us; and hence we decline to negotiate with you. This question will be solved elsewhere than in Austria. Here there are no factors competent to solve it.” And, in its proclamation of October 19, after the manifesto of the Emperor Charles, the National Committee in Prague identified itself with the declaration of the Czech Association, refused to discuss the Czech question in Austria and said: “The Czech question has ceased to be an Austro-Hungarian internal affair. It has become an international question and will be solved together with all world questions. Nor can it be solved save with the assent and in agreement with the internationally-recognized portion of the Czech nation beyond the frontiers of Bohemia.”
The great importance which Dr. Rašín and Dr. Soukup assigned to President Wilson’s answer to Austria-Hungary and to Andrássy’s acceptance of it is clear; and from Dr. Rašín’s account of the revolution in his “Maffia,” we see how anxiously he had awaited the complete capitulation of Austria. He saw it in Andrássy’s Note. Upon this capitulation the revolution followed immediately and, by it, the whole character of the revolution, especially its calm and bloodless course, was decided.
It has been argued that the revolution was somewhat belated and that it ought to have taken place immediately after the manifesto of the Emperor Charles on October 16, or after Wilson’s answer which was published at home on October 21. I myself expected some demonstration on the part of our people after the Declaration of Independence in America which, like Wilson’s answer, counteracted the Emperor’s manifesto. In fact the statement issued by our National Committee in Prague upon the Emperor’s manifesto was such a demonstration; and it seems to me now that the policy adopted by Dr. Rašín, in agreement with the whole National Committee, was right. The decision to await the complete capitulation of Austria corresponded to the disparity between Austrian military power and our own feeble forces at home. Had action been taken immediately after the Emperor’s manifesto and the upheaval in Vienna, we should have needed a violent revolt, and that was beyond our strength; and if negotiations had been carried on with Vienna for the transformation of the Bohemian Lands into a National State—even as a merely tactical move—obligations of some sort would have been incurred and a ​bad impression would have been made abroad. The subsequent negotiations, under different conditions, with the Lord Lieutenant in Prague were less compromising and less open to misunderstanding. The collapse of the Austrian forces on the Italian front might perhaps have served as a starting-point for a revolt; and I admit that a more radical group, if it could have been organized, might then have turned the situation to account. But by marking time for a while until Austria-Hungary had capitulated to Wilson, success was more surely and easily attained. In basing their action upon the Austrian acceptance of Wilson’s programme—an acceptance the more significant because it came from Andrássy, a Hungarian politician—Dr. Rašín and his friends clearly linked the revolution at home with the highest achievement of the Provisional Government abroad, and thus made their action on October 28 a synthesis of our whole revolution.
From Dr. Rašín’s and Dr. Soukup’s report in the Year Book of the Czechoslovak National Assembly, it appears that the National Committee negotiated, on October 28 and 29, with the Austrian military and civil authorities, and that a “Convention” was concluded with the military Command in Bohemia on October 28. The Austrian military representatives accepted the “cooperation” of the National Committee and undertook to do nothing against its will. Consequently, it was agreed on October 29 between the Lord Lieutenant and the members of Parliament, Soukup, Stříbrný, Rašín and Švehla, that the National Committee should be “recognized” as an executive organ of the Sovereign Nation (not of the State) and that it should be “associated” with the work of public administration. In view of its brevity and vagueness this report needs to be completed and explained by those concerned. What did they “agree” upon and what was the meaning of “cooperation” and of “association”? How long were these arrangements to last, and with what object?
Obviously, the Lord Lieutenant in Prague, Count Coudenhove, as a representative of the Austrian Government, negotiated with the National Committee on the basis of the Emperor’s manifesto, and perhaps on that of Dr. Lammasch’s programme for the establishment of Federal States which the Emperor had sanctioned on October 22. As an Imperial Lord Lieutenant he could not negotiate for the establishment of a Republic and a State independent of Austria and the dynasty. As is known, Count Coudenhove hints that the National Committee referred, in their dealings with him, to the Emperor’s wish to set up ​local national governments. This would certainly have meant a Federal State within the framework of a new Austria. But his interpretation is not confirmed by the documents dated October 28. The text of the first Czechoslovak Statute and of the revolutionary manifesto differ from the Emperor’s manifesto. He demanded the territorial integrity of Hungary, whereas the first Statute and the manifesto of October 28 speak of the “Czechoslovak” State and of the provincial authorities, with evident reference to Slovakia. On the other hand, it is true that the Emperor’s manifesto mentions “Czechoslovaks.” But the Statute declares that the form of the State shall be settled by the National Assembly and by the Provisional Government in Paris. This is in contradiction with the Emperor’s manifesto which leaves no room for doubt that the form of our State was to be federal. (The first Statute and the revolutionary manifesto approximated more nearly to Dr. Lammasch’s programme.) And, in the preamble to the Statute, the Czechoslovak State is declared to be independent. Juridical independence is not a precise concept, yet it is in opposition to the absolute vagueness of the constitutional programme contained in the Emperor’s manifesto. There may be a difference between the wording of the Statute and of the revolutionary manifesto, and what the National Committee may have said, for tactical reasons, to Count Coudenhove. On this point we must await an authentic report. Meanwhile it may be admitted that the wording of the Statute and of the manifesto is indefinite. In the preamble to the Statute the National Committee describes itself as the executive organ of State sovereignty, but its first clause restricts the idea of sovereignty to sovereignty in home affairs. The form of the State is reserved for settlement by the National Assembly and the National Council, or Provisional Government, in Paris; but both are vaguely described as “organs of the unanimous will of the nation.” In the revolutionary manifesto, the National Council calls itself, indeed, a Government, though it also calls itself, somewhat inexactly, the “only qualified and responsible organ.”
While the revolution was proceeding at Prague, certain members and delegates of the National Committee were negotiating with Dr. Beneš at Geneva, the negotiations deriving their significance from the fact that they were conducted by Dr. Kramář who was chairman of the National Committee. The points of agreement to which they led, on October 31, are more definite than the Prague documents of October 28. Some of these points have been published, others not. I possess Dr. ​Beneš’s official report upon them; and I am now more fully acquainted with the Austrian diplomatic reports-for, as I have said, the Austrians watched the proceedings closely. In point of fact, the Geneva Agreement recognized the Provisional Government in Paris and its work. It recognized, too, Dr. Beneš as Minister and the Republican form of the State which the Provisional Government abroad had proclaimed. This recognition refers to the Washington Declaration of Independence in which the Provisional Government laid down the fundamental principles of our reborn State. The ties with Vienna, Budapest and the Hapsburg dynasty were very definitely cut.
Though nothing has hitherto been published on this point, the Republican form of State was thus agreed upon at Geneva. Apparently, the delegates from Prague were not authorized to proclaim the Republic openly. The National Committee may have felt uncertain because of rumours in Prague that the National Council abroad had negotiated with Prince Arthur of Connaught and other hypothetical aspirants to the Prague throne. In Geneva this uncertainty was dispelled. Dr. Beneš informed the members of the National Committee there that no arrangements of any kind had been made about the throne, and he called upon them to sanction what he had done abroad, including our proclamation of the Republic. I possess the text of the telegram which Dr. Beneš sent from Geneva to the French Government upon the agreement; it mentions first of all the adoption of the Republican system—an excellent move in view of the attempts of Vienna to influence the Allies even after the revolution in Prague. But the agreement itself was declared to be confidential lest reprisals be taken. The delegates even thought of returning to Prague by way of Germany; and between Prague and Vienna negotiations went on to assure their safety on the journey home.
After their return to Prague the political position was cleared up. The ties with Austria and the dynasty having been formally severed at Geneva, the form of the State was settled at home in accordance with the decision of the Provisional Government abroad. Mr. Temperley has laid stress upon the political and juridical significance of the return of the delegation from Geneva to Prague and dates from it the existence of our State. Indeed, the way the delegates were received in Prague shows that our public opinion knew what the Geneva negotiations meant.
The relationship between the Provisional Government and ​a Government eventually to be constituted at Prague was naturally considered at Geneva. Though the records hitherto published do not show how the question was settled, the unpublished points of the agreement provided that the two Governments should be amalgamated, Dr. Beneš and Štefánik, the two Ministers in the Provisional Government, entering the Prague Government. I ceased to be Prime Minister and Minister of Finance as soon as I had been elected President and the Government had been finally established.
It may be asked why the revolution was not carried through completely on October 28 in the whole field of State and provincial administration. What happened was that on October 28 the National Committee took over the War Wheat Institute, the Lord Lieutenancy, the Provincial Administrative Commission and the Provincial Military Command; or, rather, negotiations were begun for the transfer of the Lord Lieutenancy, and only half, not the whole of the Military Command was taken over. It was no accident that the War Wheat Institute came first. The question of supplies was very weighty, and by securing the Wheat Institute the National Committee got control over the troops which depended upon it. This, I think, was a good plan. On October 29 the police headquarters, the Provincial High Court and the Public Prosecutor’s Office were seized. On October 30 both the Lieutenancy and the whole of the Military Command were taken, after the military had attempted to regain control. This was the most dangerous moment in the revolution at home. The dynasty and the Austrian State were founded upon the army, and the military capitulation had therefore great significance. On October 30, too, came the appointment of Tusar, a member of Parliament, to negotiate with Andrássy in Vienna; and the Slovak declaration of union at Turčansky St. Martin. After the return of the delegation from Geneva on November 5 the form of the State was finally settled. As leader of the delegation and chairman of the National Committee, Dr. Kramář announced publicly, in a speech before the railway station, that we should have a free, popular Democratic Republic; but not until November 14 was the revolution formally and materially completed. It took a fortnight to overcome technical difficulties and to bring the whole administration of the State and of the province actually into the hands of the National Committee.
Whenever a full account of the revolution is written, it will need to describe what went on in the various parts of the country. Revolutionary Committees, acting under orders from Prague, ​were formed in the administrative districts of Bohemia, while at Brno, or Brünn, and throughout Moravia, the Moravian members of the National Committee kept step with Prague and were in constant telephonic communication with the capital. Practically and theoretically some weight attaches also to the question whether the sovereignty of the Czechoslovak State prevailed throughout Slovakia from October 28 onwards. On this point there have been, I know, differences of opinion between various Departments of State, and the Supreme Administrative Tribunal has had to deal with them.
The Question of the Republic.
The question whether our State should be a Republic or a Monarchy is in itself important. Before the war our constitutional programme was monarchical. If individuals in other parties be left out of account, only the Social Democrats were, as a party, Republican; but even their republicanism was more theoretical than practical. There was no real, direct republican propaganda. I was republican in principle when I went abroad in December 1914, but the issue did not then seem to me urgent; and, in the very last resort, if Russia had not collapsed, I should have been prepared to support the election of some foreign dynasty, though not the Russian if it had been possible to avoid it. Hence the importance of ascertaining how and when, abroad and at home, the republican form was chosen, for the question of form is independent of the question of the State itself. The first Statute of October 28 leaves the form in suspense.
Abroad, as I have said, I reported to the Allies that the majority of our people were monarchists. This was in 1914 and 1915. But, in my memorandum to the French Government and to the Allies in February 1916, I declared officially in favour of a Republic. Consequently we proclaimed the Republic, finally and solemnly, in the Washington Declaration of Independence, and this Declaration was accepted at Geneva and in Prague.
Among us, as elsewhere, the Russian Revolution had turned feeling decisively towards a Republic. The first demand for it was openly put forward in the meetings of workmen which the Czech Socialist Council organized at Prague and in a number of provincial towns and villages on October 14, 1918; and though Dr. Rašín states in his “Maffia” that Austrian military dispositions prevented this from being done in Prague itself, ​the Socialist proclamation was disseminated among the people in leaflet form. Upon the views of the leading members of the National Committee the only evidence is a report written by Lammasch according to which Dr. Kramář stated, on his way to Geneva (October 22), that while he personally was monarchist, the majority of the Committee were republicans. But Kramář’s royalism was not Hapsburgian. At Geneva he, like all the members of the delegation, was anti-Austrian and anti-Hapsburg, though he still favoured a monarchy under a Russian dynasty. As Chairman of the National Committee, his view carried weight and it certainly influenced his party colleagues and perhaps some other members of the National Committee. Yet he, too, accepted the Republic under the impression of Dr. Beneš’s account of the situation abroad. This is how I interpret his public speech on his return from Geneva. General Štefánik was also inclined to favour a monarchical form of the State though he agreed, after some hesitation, to the proclamation of the Republic in the Washington Declaration of Independence.
The most radical of the draft Constitutions which were submitted to the National Committee at Prague in 1917 had foreshadowed a personal union with Austria, that is to say, self-government under one and the same monarch; but it must be observed that these drafts were written under Austrian pressure. It was not until October 14, 1918, that serious discussion of the Constitution and the form of the State began, on a juridical basis which Dr. Pantuček had worked out. His report upon this discussion is weighty because it shows that even before October 28 the leading members of Parliament had taken all political eventualities into account, and it is obvious that there was no longer any question of our remaining within the Hapsburg Monarchy but only of establishing a State entirely independent and republican in form.
The Policy of Vienna.
When describing in an earlier chapter the closing phases of my work in Washington I gave some account of the chief manifestations of Austrian policy. The history of this policy is of moment in judging our revolution in Prague, and I propose now to complete it in the light of documents subsequently received.
In Vienna it had not been forgotten that, at the opening sitting of the Austrian Reichsrat in 1917, the Czech Parliamentary Association had demanded the transformation of ​Austria-Hungary into a League of States; and the manifesto issued by the Emperor Charles on October 16, 1918, was intended as an appeal to our people, to the Southern Slavs and, at the same time, to President Wilson. Thoroughly informed by Professor Herron, President Wilson stood fast, and I checkmated the manifesto by declaring our independence on October 18. Next day, Wilson’s answer to Austria struck Vienna like lightning. Dr. Redlich, the former Austrian Minister, relates that when it reached Vienna on October 19, it caused a panic at Court and in the Ministry for Foreign Affairs. It was, as he says, the death sentence of the Hapsburg dynasty. Dr. Lammasch was then sent for. He worked out his plan to turn Austria into a Confederation or League of States. The Emperor sanctioned it on October 20. For Austria it was radical, and calculated to appeal to Wilson. All the Hapsburg peoples were to take part in the Peace Conference where territorial questions would be decided, even the question whether the new States should be united in a Confederation or not.
But the Magyars raised obstacles. The Hungarian Prime Minister, Dr. Wekerle, rejected Lammasch’s plan, clung to the Emperor’s manifesto, demanded a personal union between Hungary and Austria and promised the Croats merely a revision of the Hungaro-Croatian settlement of 1868. Though people in Vienna were furious, the Magyars would not give way. Viennese policy sought to gain the support of the Czechs and especially that of the Southern Slavs, albeit with the intention of playing the Croats off against us. This time, however, the old tactics of “divide et impera” failed to work.
Towards the end of October, when the Austro-Hungarian army on the Italian front went to pieces before its final defeat, the position of Austria became desperate. On October 26 the Emperor Charles telegraphed to the Emperor William his “unalterable decision to conclude a separate peace within 24 hours and to ask for an immediate armistice.” This was done; and, during the night from October 27 to October 28, Count Andrássy, who had been appointed Austro-Hungarian Foreign Minister, accepted President Wilson’s “death sentence.” Deadly fear prevailed in Vienna, above all, fear of Bolshevism. The Russian precedent and the collapse of the army struck the Court, the Government and the Army Command with paralysis. This is clear from the confessions of the Austrian Commanders, and it explains the conduct of Vienna after Wilson’s answer and the defeat in Italy.
As recently as October 14 the Austrian authorities had ​replied by reprisals and persecutions to the republican demonstrations of the Socialist Council at Prague and in Bohemia. An official report shows how terror-stricken they were. The Lords Lieutenant of Bohemia and Moravia sent to Vienna full accounts of every meeting and every speech, and looked upon the republican demonstrations as an unpardonable political crime. This was before Wilson’s answer. After it, Vienna was stunned, as the story of Dr. Beneš’s last dispatch to Prague strikingly proves.
This dispatch, or report on the situation abroad, was written on September 11. It was received in due course at Prague by Dr. Šámal who handed it to the Executive of the National Committee. But to make quite sure that it would reach its destination, Dr. Beneš wrote it out again, in fuller detail, and sent it by a female messenger from Switzerland to Prague. She was arrested, and the document fell into the hands of the Austrian War Office on the very day when the Emperor sanctioned Lammasch’s policy. Though the report actually contained the name and address of the person to whom it was to be delivered, the Austrian authorities took no steps against him. On the contrary, it gave the delegates of our National Committee passports for Geneva and finally decided to accept Wilson’s programme.
It is in the light of this change in the standpoint of Vienna that the course of the revolution in Prague must be judged. Even when Andrássy’s capitulation had brought on the revolution, the position was not thought dangerous. True, the Minister of the Interior showed some anxiety about the fate of the Germans in Bohemia, but he expected that their National Committee would, with the help of the Government, find means of getting special treatment for them. On October 29 the Austrian Cabinet authorized the Lords Lieutenant in Bohemia and Moravia to negotiate with our people; and, on receiving reports of the arrangements made with our National Committee in Prague, the Ministry of the Interior instructed the Lord Lieutenant of Bohemia not to oppose political demonstrations. Similarly, on hearing the first news from Prague on October 28, the Vienna War Office ordered the Military Commands at Prague, Brünn and elsewhere to negotiate with the National Committee in case of need; and, during the following night, it expressly authorized them to accept the National Committee’s proposals. Vienna was informed by the Military Commands in Prague and elsewhere, and by the civil authorities throughout Bohemia and Moravia, that the Austrian coats of arms were ​being torn down and the rosettes removed from the officers’ caps but no surprise was shown. In any case, it seems to have been thought, the new States would want their own coats of arms and emblems. In fact, all the local army headquarters were instructed to sort out the Austrian regiments according to their racial composition so far as this could be done peacefully and without revolt.
So excited and bewildered was Vienna that the Supreme Military Command submitted to the men in the field, on October 29, the question whether they favoured a republic or the dynasty. At all costs quiet and order were to be preserved lest Bolshevism supervene. Disorder and indignation might easily give rise to a revolutionary movement, especially as hunger had prepared the way for it. This was one reason why Vienna asked our National Committee in Bohemia to supply the troops with bread. But the predominant motive was the desire not to offer the Allies a spectacle of distraction and disintegration. Even after the revolution, the Austrian authorities did their utmost to gain the favour of Wilson and the Allies; and, to this end, they needed the argument that the Austrian peoples and the army were calm. Hence also the remissiveness of the Prague Military Command when it received its orders from Vienna—a remissiveness which suited our National Committee and was supported by it. It agreed to work with the Military Command for the purpose of maintaining order, feeding the men and securing the departure of the non-Czech troops. In the name of the National Committee, Tusar, the Czech member of Parliament who had already been appointed a plenipotentiary by the Czechoslovak Government, appealed at the beginning of November to the Czechoslovak soldiers in the Austrian army to remain obedient to their Austrian superiors since they would be brought back into the territory of our State as soon as railway communications should permit and the necessary arrangements could be made.
The Austrian authorities did not realize that their remissiveness in dealing with Prague was a two-edged sword. They did not see that, if they could point to the tranquillity and order in the Bohemian Lands, foreign countries could hardly fail to understand that our National Committee had succeeded in establishing the new State calmly and prudently. Thus their tactics failed, despite the feverish activity of Austrian envoys and emissaries who, with the help of pro-Austrian politicians, were at work not only at the Vatican and in neutral countries, but in London, Washington, Paris and Rome. Baron ​Chlumecky was busy in Switzerland. His task was to get the support of the Vatican and to open relations with Paris, while Count Albert Mensdorff was instructed to deal with London direct and also to pull strings in Paris, since Austria was no less eager to turn France than England against us. In Paris, it was, however, taken as an insult that Count Andrássy should have been selected to carry on the negotiations which were in progress in Switzerland towards the middle of October, since he had been no less pro-German than Tisza throughout the war; nor did Count Mensdorff or Baron Chlumecky succeed in their main purpose, which was to get hold of Clemenceau. Neither Clemenceau nor anybody connected with French governing circles was accessible to their suggestions. The Austrians were too tactless; and the agreement at Geneva between our Prague Delegation and Dr. Beneš upset their last diplomatic undertaking. Dr. Beneš demanded that all links with the Hapsburgs should be snapped, and the delegation snapped them emphatically. On his return to Paris he made good use of their action; and when he was invited, as the Foreign Minister of the recognized Czechoslovak Government, to take part in the Armistice negotiations with Germany, the attempts of Austria to open secret negotiations were frustrated.
The Allies had expected Austria definitely to break off her alliance with Germany, just as in 1917 England had awaited a clear Austro-Hungarian declaration in regard to Belgium, and France an unequivocal pronouncement upon Alsace-Lorraine. Had these things been done, peace negotiations would have taken place earlier. Austria might perhaps have saved herself if she had cut adrift from Germany and had turned against her. To such lengths even Viennese insincerity was not prepared to go, less on account of moral scruples than out of fear of the Magyars and of the Austrian Germans; and when, at the last moment, Austria accepted Wilson’s conditions and decided to make a separate peace, France, in particular, thought her action insufficient.
Yet, by acting swiftly and vigorously on the basis of Lammasch’s policy, the Austrian Government might have gained considerably. I doubt, however, whether Lammasch had any real influence. He proposed that all the Hapsburg peoples should be represented at the Peace Conference, which should settle territorial questions and decide whether or not a League of Hapsburg States should be formed. On such a basis the Viennese thesis might have been advanced with some effect and supported, as regards us, with arguments ad homines. ​Play might have been made not only with the pro-Austrian statements of the Burgomaster of Prague, Dr. Groš, but with the disavowal of the National Council abroad by our members of Parliament, and with their declaration in favour of a League of Hapsburg States at the moment when the Reichsrat was reopened. The Prague revolution would have been no obstacle, for Count Coudenhove would certainly have put forward his assertion that our National Committee had invoked the Emperor’s wish to set up local national Governments when they began negotiations with the Lord Lieutenancy in Prague; and Tusar’s appeal to our soldiers would have formed yet another term of the Viennese political syllogism.
All the weightier, therefore, was the fact that at Geneva the delegation of our National Committee and its chairman, Dr. Kramář, had agreed with our first Foreign Minister, as the representative of a Government which the Allies had recognized, upon a clear and definite anti-Austrian programme which Dr. Beneš could lay before the Allies. This Geneva agreement made it impossible for Austria to turn to account things that our people at home had done under her military pressure, or the tactics which our people had adopted at the moment of the Prague revolution.
In point of fact, Austria herself, the Emperor as well as the Government, had admitted our right to independence, practically and juridically, during the later years of the war. Of this, all the promises and efforts, in 1917 and 1918, to reconstruct Austria are obvious signs, as is the wish of the Emperor Charles, which the Lord Lieutenant, Count Coudenhove, had encouraged, to be crowned King of Bohemia at Prague. His wish was thwarted by members of the Austrian Government and also, it seems, by threats from our people that the coronation would be a fiasco. Still more significant is the fact that Austria herself accepted the declaration made on October 18 by President Wilson that the Czechoslovaks were entitled to an independent State and that this acceptance was signed by an Hungarian politician, Count Andrássy, in his capacity as Austro-Hungarian Minister for Foreign Affairs. True, this acceptance, like the previous manifesto of the Emperor himself, was an attempt to keep the Czechs within the Hapsburg Monarchy. In the same way the granting of passports for Geneva to the delegation of our National Committee was an effort to win Czech favour by amiability; and the reproach addressed by the Austrian Germans to the Austrian Government on this account ignored the situation which had arisen in ​Vienna after Wilson’s reply. Moreover, the former Austrian Minister, Dr. Joseph Redlich, shows that when the Austrian German parties formally established the new Austrian State on October 21, they went ahead of the other Austrian races in dismembering the Empire; and he admits that the Emperor’s manifesto of October 16 had given these races a legal basis for their action. The truth, on which it is necessary to insist, is that Vienna and Prague were pursuing divergent political aims.
The bonds that bound us to Austria were finally severed in the first sitting of our National Assembly on November 14. Dr. Kramář proclaimed the dethronement of the Emperor Charles and the establishment of our Republic. No vote was taken and, as the Statute Book shows, no law was passed. Acclamation was so spontaneous and unanimous that a formal vote seemed superfluous.
On November 4 the National Committee in Prague had been asked, on behalf of the Emperor Charles, to give him permission to settle at Brandeis on the Elbe. There was a disposition to grant the request on condition that he should abdicate and abandon all claims to the Bohemian Lands. In the Year Book of the National Assembly there is, to this effect, a brief note that aroused my curiosity, for it would surely have been a mistake thus to expose the ex-Emperor to temptation. It appears, however, that the note is incomplete and that no formal reply was made to him since the National Committee had been informally approached through third parties. An informal answer was therefore sent through the same channels. In much the same way the Magyars thought it expedient to approach the Slovaks, and the Hungarian Government went so far as to invite Dr. Milan Hodža, who had been a Slovak member of the Hungarian Parliament, to take part in negotiations at Budapest.
The Germans of Bohemia.
Another problem of a special kind was raised by the separatist tendencies of the Bohemian Germans. After the revolution in Prague, as I have said, they sought to organize four German districts—“German Bohemia,” “The Sudetenland,” “South German Moravia,” and “The Bohemian Forest Region.” But neither in political nor in administrative importance were these efforts comparable to our own revolution. Indeed, their rudimentary character seems to me a proof of the organic con​nexion between the Czech and the German parts of the historic Bohemian Lands.
At that time we held part of the German regions in military occupation. Between our troops and their German fellow-citizens a number of agreements were made. At Reichenberg, for instance, the seat of the “Government of German Bohemia,” a municipal authority and a Czech-German administrative commission, in the ratio of seven Germans to four Czechs, were set up by reciprocal agreement on December 16, 1918. At Eger there was, according to German accounts, an arrangement which the people of Eger interpreted as confirming their particular constitutional rights. They claim that our historian, Palacký, recognizes these rights; and it is certainly interesting to observe how Čelakovský describes the evolution of constitutional law in the Egerland and its “Bohemification.” The Peace Treaty of St. Germain declares, however, that the Egerland belongs to the historical Bohemian State—a position which Austria also recognizes by her ratification of the Treaty. A thorough examination of the juridical aspects of the occupation of our German territory would nevertheless be expedient.
Nor is our relationship to the Germans of Bohemia our only constitutional problem. Political men and theorists have long busied themselves with a constitutional definition of the union of Slovakia with our State. Theoretically it is a question of distinguishing more precisely between “historical” and “natural” right. We invoked both of them during the war; and in view of Slovakia, I had long endeavoured to harmonize them. Many of our public men, under the influence of a reactionary German conception of the historical rights of the Bohemian Lands, ignored our natural right to union with Slovakia; and, though I admitted historical right, I always upheld natural right alongside of it. Indeed, when I left Prague in 1914 I firmly intended to work for union with Slovakia. The Allies gave us plenary powers to unite Slovakia with our Republic on December 4, 1918, the first delimitation of the Slovak frontiers being undertaken on February 19, 1918, after discussion between Dr. Beneš and the Allied military authorities (Marshal Foch and General Weygand) and with the French Foreign Minister, M. Pichon, and M. Berthelot. Our frontier with Poland was likewise determined by the Allies, small Austrian and Prussian areas being included in our territory. In principle, the recognition of the right to independence is far weightier than the question of frontier delimitation or that of the status of racial minorities. In the ​cases of Poland and Yugoslavia, frontiers were also delimited locally by special commissions. The frontiers of Sub-Carpathian Russia had further to be settled, as well as its constitutional position and its organization as a self-governing territory assigned to us by the Peace Conference in accordance with the wish of its people in America and at home.
Allied Sincerity.
The question is sometimes raised how far Russia and how far the Western Allies contributed to our liberation. From all that I have written it is clear that the Russian share in it was much smaller than that of the West. In saying this I do not forget that, at the beginning, and in 1916 and 1917, Russian armies helped the Allies and us also; as did Serbia who, though a small nation, rendered no less service to the Slav cause. I remember, too, that we were enabled to organize our army in Russia and to bring it into action, though not by merit of Russian policy. The plan of the Central Powers was that Germany should crush France while Austria, with German help, should defeat Russia. In executing it, our Czech and Slovak soldiers were sent to the front against Russia—and thus the subsequent developments were rendered possible. The merit of Russia in them was passive rather than active. Russia was no more able to liberate us than she had been able to free the Serbians and the other Balkan peoples of whom she solemnly proclaimed herself the protectress on the outbreak of war. Like us, the Serbians believed in the Tsar’s promises; and, like us, they and the Southern Slavs were compelled to link their fate closely with that of the Western Allies. Official Tsarist Russia was Byzantine, not Slav. Our liking for Russia was chiefly a liking for the Russian people, and this liking was strengthened, not weakened, by the war.
It was instructive to observe our legionaries in Russia. Contact with Russian officialdom soon dispelled the vague, abstract notions about Russia and the Slavs which had been current among us. But they got to know the Russian people, the Russian peasants, and fell in love with them. They saw the defects, the great defects, of all Russian Governments; yet they saw, too, the natural influence of the huge Russian Empire upon the Russian character. They became acquainted with Southern Slavs, Poles and Ukrainians; they passed, indeed, through a good Slav school. On the other hand, the Russians learned from them that Czechs and Slovaks ​existed. Until then, none save students of Slavonic and a section of the Russian educated class had known anything about us. The peasants had heard only of Bulgars and Serbs as Orthodox peoples, and of the Poles as Catholics.
Sometimes, in controversial writings upon the revolution of October 28, it has been claimed that the Western Allies used or misused us as a means of compelling Austria to make a separate peace, and it has therefore been argued that ourwork abroad was, after all, not so very important. This argument is baseless. It is conclusively refuted by the fact that the Allies did not make a separate peace with Austria, and by their various recognitions of, negotiations with, and whole behaviour towards us. Wilson’s answer to Austria would alone suffice to dispose of it entirely. I was present when his answer was sent and know from experience how it originated, psychologically and politically. Wilson was totally incapable of the sort of cunning which is, by implication, ascribed to him; and we know how his answer disintegrated Austria and encouraged our people at home. The Austrian “capitulation,” of which Dr. Rašín spoke, sufficiently controverts a theory that so light-mindedly casts aspersions on the Allies. Their aims were lofty; and though there were among them individuals, groups and tendencies working for other ends, the Allies, despite all difficulties, carried through their democratic mission against reactionary absolutism. Among us also, the idea, the idealists, not the super-cunning, triumphed at the last.
I myself have dwelt upon the dangerous character of the negotiations of the Emperor Charles with the Allies through Prince Sixtus of Bourbon-Parma—if it is to these that the opponents of the Allies allude—and have shown that they were incompatible with the recognition which we had already received. I have shown, too, that they broke down in consequence of their own inherent impracticability; and that neither the French nor the Italian Foreign Minister was in agreement with them. I have dealt also with the endeavours of Austrian diplomacy to work upon pro-Austrian feeling abroad, even at the time of our revolution; and I am entitled to say that I have been thoroughly critical in my account of Allied policy during the war. Despite the reserve imposed upon me by the position I hold, I am persuaded that I have not departed from reality and truth.
Or, again, the opponents of the Allies may insist upon the point of detail that the Congress of Oppressed Hapsburg Peoples, ​which was to have taken place in Paris on October 15 as a sequel to the Rome Congress of April 1918, was postponed at the request of the French Government. Dr. Beneš, who was to have taken part in the Paris Congress, reported to me at the time that, on October 5, the Allies received the request of the Central Powers to open negotiations for an Armistice, and that, on this account, the Allied Supreme Council had been convened in Paris. At this Council Lord Robert Cecil asked, on behalf of England, that the Congress of the Oppressed Peoples might be postponed so that it should not coincide with the meeting of the Council. Apparently the Allies did not know what questions would come before the Council or what the result of the Congress would be. But it cannot be taken amiss that they should not have wished their proceedings to be troubled by external pressure.
Even had the support we received from the Allies abroad only been given as a tactical move with the object of hastening the capitulation of Austria and an anti-German peace, we should certainly not have been left in the lurch, for it was our policy and our Legions that had brought Austria to the plight in which the Allies wished to see her. We should not have gone empty-handed. The Allies would have been bound by their recognition of us. The German Chancellor’s “Scrap of Paper could not have had its counterpart in Paris. Of that we had taken good care.
Intentions.
In the last resort, judgment on historical events and on individual acts and deeds depends upon the intentions, the plans, the convictions and the motives of the persons, parties and peoples by whom history is made. It is not enough merely to register outward facts and details and to say, while looking with satisfaction on the result: “We have our Republic. Why worry about the manner and the hour of its birth?”
For my part I have described fully the plans, aims and motives of our work abroad, and I hope that a similar account may be given of the revolutionary movement at home. If our political maturity and our national character are to be rightly judged it is very important to establish—in relation to the collapse of Austria and to the revolution wrought in the world—exactly what was done at home during the war years, what happened at Prague on October 28, 1918, what were the purpose and the sense of our own revolution and what ​the feelings and the decisions of the leading men, the political parties and the people at large.
The main question is whether the revolution at home was passive or active. Was it deliberately brought about, was it desired; or were the downfall of Austria, the breakdown on the Italian front and in the interior merely turned to account, in haste, at the twelfth hour? If it was desired and intended, how long and by whom had it consciously been worked for at home? After four years’ bitter experience, were our people prepared, at the end of the war, for a real overthrow of the Hapsburg State system, for a real, albeit a bloodless, revolution? It is not enough that many desired freedom. What did we do to gain it?
It is a question of our national conscience and consciousness. In my own case, I have explained repeatedly why I had pondered, year in year out, the problem of revolution. It was no empty toying with ideas. I sought to analyse myself, our national character and even the soul of the Russians—for we were pro-Russian—so as to be clear in my own mind whether our and the Slav humanitarian programme were merely passive, whether we should simply seek to defend ourselves against harsh oppression, or whether we should be capable of political action, independently, of our own free will and deliberate choice, from inward resolve, not alone under pressure—whether, in a word, we could be our own masters? This is why I went so deeply into the question how it came about that Chelčický and his Bohemian Brethren could exist alongside of Žižka. Was Chelčický a passive nature and is his passive quality also in our nature, in our blood, in our character, in our soul? Or was Chelčický an effect of the opposite extreme in Žižka; was he passive only in tactics, not in virtue of a principle inherent in his and our character? In Palacký’s view, even Žižka and the Hussites acted only in self-defence. Does this mean that we were, in fact, guided, urged, compelled from outside, and that we only became heroes under stress of adversity?
In truth, Chelčický was not passive. He was, on the contrary, very active, radical, determined and uncompromising, no less active, no less radical than, and quite as fearless as Žižka. He and Žižka are the obverse and reverse sides of the same hard Bohemian coin. Chelčický’s mistakes arose from a wrong conception of human nature.
It was from this standpoint that I watched, for instance, our lads in Russia and Siberia. We had an army, and were ​masters of it, and of ourselves. We could do what we liked—but did we always do as we should have wished and were we always on the alert? When things went badly, we were certainly weak. On the other hand, I have often heard thoughtful soldiers say that our men were most up to the mark under enemy pressure. How far is this true?
It may be argued that we once lost our independence and failed to preserve our State; further, that our Hussitism, our Bohemian Brotherliness, our whole Reformation—and a Reformation reveals what is inmost in moral and national character—were crude, ill-starred politically, and ended in defeat and subjugation; and that, in its political aspects, the Lutheran Reformation was more constructive. Again and again, as I thought of these things and of our national humanitarianism, I concluded that care for humanity does not proceed from any inborn passiveness but that it forms the true basis for a successful practical policy. This is proved by our re-conquest of independence, the re-establishment of our State. To me, the controversy upon our revolution of October 28 seems in reality a question of our State-creative capacity, our power of political construction, our activity in political leadership and ability to lead—a question whether we can be and, in the long run, remain, our own masters and the masters of our State.
To-day, as in the time of Hus, it behoves us to understand the whole position in Europe and in the world as well as at home. Our geographical situation and our history alike enjoin upon us a European and a world policy, despite the smallness of our nation and precisely because we are small. In the world as it is to-day can we keep permanently the independence we have won? Are we capable, intelligent, prudent, determined and tenacious enough to keep it? This is the kernel of the dispute about October 28.
Before and after the outbreak of war I, for my part, answered this question in the affirmative. I went abroad to begin revolutionary work in the conviction that the nation and its leaders at home would know how to put an Allied victory to good purpose, and that we should all work to realize our maximum political aims. The excellent way in which our revolution was carried through is a pledge of the future success. And my answer to the definite question whether we owe our freedom mainly to the work abroad or to the work at home, is that there was originally no difference of opinion about it. Dr. Rašín, in his manifesto of October 28; in the utterances of Dr. Kramář, the leader of the Geneva Delegation and chairman ​of the National Committee; and, I believe, in the general feeling of the people—as expressed by the way it welcomed the Geneva Delegation, hailed my return and that of the first detachment of the Legions-witness was borne that the work abroad was decisive. But this work was rendered possible by the general resistance of the people at home to Austria-Hungary, and by the revolution after Vienna had capitulated to President Wilson.