# My War Memoirs/Chapter 20

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FINAL REFLECTIONS
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International public opinion to a preponderating extent considers that the responsibility for causing the outbreak of the war rests mainly with Austria-Hungary and Germany. The underlying motives of their war policy were of a twofold character. Austria-Hungary aimed at checking the Serbo-Croatian process of unification and the struggle of Serbia to gain further national territories from the Turkish heritage. Austria-Hungary, moreover, desired to preserve a free path to Salonika, and thus prevent the Jugoslavs from achieving their idea of national unification and liberation. This was because the influence of a Serbian success on the other nations within the Empire in their struggle for liberation would have been a menace to the continued existence of the Empire, and in any case to the supremacy of the Germans and Magyars. This was feared by Budapest, just as much as by Vienna. The humiliation of Serbia was accordingly to act as a means for arresting the progressive inner decay of the Habsburg Empire, or at least its transformation on the lines of the demands made by the various races inhabiting it.
In the last twenty years immediately preceding the war the principle that the Habsburg Empire could maintain itself only by dualism denoting the complete supremacy of the Germans in Cis-Leithania and the absolutist dictatorship of the Magyar nobility in Hungary, had become an axiom among the most powerful circle who controlled the pre-war policy of Austria-Hungary. The foreign policy of the Empire was also in accordance with this idea, which resulted, too, in the dependence of Austria-Hungary upon Berlin. Altogether, the internal policy of Austria-Hungary was decided mainly by the plans and general course of its foreign policy. These political principles were adhered to by the authoritative circles in Vienna and Budapest when the war broke out. A few divergent views of the heir apparent, Franz Ferdinand, although they were of considerable importance, produced no change in the line of foreign policy ​and the general plans of Vienna and Budapest as regards the Balkans.
In comparison with Germany, Austria-Hungary did not outwardly produce the impression of a State inspired by the will to power. It lacked the strength of a national idea, it was without Prussian militarism or sense of order. The unity and influence of the Catholic Church helped it somewhat, and the same applies to the coercive Magyar regime which in many respects outstripped Prussianism.
Politicians who identify themselves with the philosophy of power, but have not the necessary man-power to put it into effect, are known to make up for this deficiency by the Machiavellian view that in the interests of success all methods, however immoral or ruthless, are permissible. That was the guiding principle of pre-war Austria-Hungary towards its nationalities. For that reason I used to agree with those who preferred Germany to former Austria-Hungary.
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The manner in which Germany and also the Habsburg Empire conducted the war was in accordance with the whole spirit underlying the development of pre-war Germany. The infringement of Belgian neutrality, submarine warfare, the bombardment of open towns, the use of poison gas, etc., all indicate a mentality animated by the principle that necessity knows no law and that the end justifies the means. The German military successes, which undeniably demonstrated the enormous strength of the nation, urged the leading circles still farther in this direction, and although the Allied strategy, both political and military, was less systematic, it was less mechanical, it reckoned more with the individual, and altogether it took greater account of the moral factors involved in the matter at issue.
It is from this point of view that further facts must be emphasized which corroborate the divergent characters of the two opposing camps. The war began with the provocative ultimatum to Serbia; London's proposal to mediate was not accepted, and the invasion of Serbia by Austria-Hungary became an accomplished fact. Shortly after that, Belgian neutrality was infringed by Germany. These circumstances imparted a special character to the war from the very beginning, and necessarily affected any judgment of it. They enabled ​the Allied propaganda to wield a strong moral weapon against the Central Powers, and as a further result the Allies formulated their decision to restore and liberate small States and nations.
The idea of destroying German militarism led logically to the transformation of Europe, mainly Central Europe, in such a way as to provide guarantees that there could be no repetition of what had led to the outbreak of the war. This latter purpose involved the introduction of genuine constitutionalism and a free regime, first in Germany and then also in the Habsburg Empire. It involved, too, the liberation of Poland and the granting either of greater rights or complete freedom to the Slavonic nations of the Habsburg Empire, besides bringing about a readjustment of the Balkans. Thus gradually—and it must be added, very gradually—there began to be evolved in the Allied countries a new outlook on the fundamentals and the underlying meaning of the war. This line of thought culminated in the Allied reply to President Wilson in the famous note on November 10, 1917. Here all the ideas which had been hitherto proclaimed sporadically were arranged in a systematic scheme. This process was supplemented by the Russian revolution, which naturally perturbed the whole of Europe, and to an enormous extent changed the opinions, plans, wishes interests, and needs associated with the war. The spreading and acceptance of these ideas was considerably promoted by our movement and that of the other oppressed nations.
Although the Peace Treaties did not strictly reproduce these principles, they nevertheless embodied their main ideas. Our own national traditions, our age-long contest for freedom of opinions, our democratic ideals as expressed in our reformation and national revival, and our political struggle during the nineteenth century, predestined us for the Allied camp from the very beginning.
Our own nation, both before and during the war, was in the camp of Western Europe by its historical development, the whole of its psychology, and its philosophic conceptions, by its spiritual and social structure. It was the only nation in Central Europe which had fully (I emphasize the word “fully” to indicate the contrast with the German reformation) passed through the spiritual revolution experienced by Western Europe in its political and social upheavals from the Hussite period to the end of the nineteenth century, even though in many particulars it was not so far advanced as the Western States. Here I do ​not wish to repeat in detail what is already sufficiently well known about our spiritual, political, and social revolution from the Middle Ages until modern times. It is a process associated with the names of Hus, Žižka, the Taborites and Bohemian Brethren, Chelčický, Komenský, Havlíček, and Palacký, and in it our nation opposed Rome, the Habsburgs, and our conservative neighbours, the Germans.
It was not merely its immediate political interests which led our nation into the camp of Western Europe. On the contrary, the whole of its cultural development conditioned its political struggle and its political interests during the war. Between the two there was no conflict. That struggle in which our direct political interests and our spiritual and cultural development were entirely identical had been continued until the most recent times. Our revivalist endeavour and our development in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries were actuated by the same characteristic ideas as our spiritual revolution, shaping, in addition, the new social structure of our nation, which was brought about by our struggle against the Austro-Hungarian surroundings in the nineteenth century. It was a struggle on the part of the small Czech farmer, town-dweller, and workman to assert himself, and to achieve independence in spirit and in material affairs. The whole of our bygone political and economic struggles had been waged against the same opponents as in the Great War.
Thus, there was no divergence between our spiritual development and our actual political interests during the war. Nor is there any divergence to-day. It is in this sense that I interpret also the philosophical factor in our history. This is not the proclamation of an aimless external Western drift in our cultural and political life. I am not, and never have been, in favour of a mechanical Westernizing as opposed to the Eastern tendency. I have been, and still am, in favour of a European and, in fact, a world-wide outlook as a means towards developing a strong Czech national spirit with world-wide standards. I shall not here attempt to formulate a theoretical policy which may perhaps be based upon noble ideas, but lacks any vital foundation, and does not take into account stark political realities. My purpose is to seek a synthesis of interests and ideas, of life and theory, with a due regard to the future, both in respect of potent ideas and material needs.
The Great War was a phenomenon of such enormous scope, ​involving such a mass of political, economic, moral, psychological, and other elements, that any formula as to its essentials and its significance must necessarily be of a very general character. If, therefore, we desire to form a correct estimate of what the significance of the war was, we must not merely investigate the political and other causes which brought it about, but also how it was conducted, which moral and material factors, which main ideas, and which main interests were victorious during its progress; and, finally, what positive result it produced, why and how it ended, and also what its aspect is from the point of view of the post-war crisis. In this connection we must first and foremost emphasize the fact that the war was not merely a conflict of liberated nationalist movements. Its basis was far wider, although this element was also contained in it.
The war can best be characterized by means of its results. It destroyed four great absolutist empires; three of them it transformed into republics, after having swept away their dynasties, while from the fourth one, the Habsburg Empire, it created six new national States. It destroyed the dynasty, the Government comprising the aristocratic and military elements, and, in fact, all the absolutist remnants of the old regime. It solved the problem of conferring unity and independence upon Poland, Czechoslovakia, Jugoslavia, as well as Rumania, Greece, Albania, the Baltic States, and Finland. It completed the national unification of Italy, settled the Alsace-Lorraine and the Schleswig-Holstein problems, and promoted several questions relating to the British Empire, influencing its constitution in the spirit of the self-determination of States and nations. Moreover, for the first time, it imposed a system of Colonial mandates, which again denotes an advance on the lines of self-determination.
The war also revived or evoked the question of independence or self-administration in the case of several Asiatic nations, the question of the freedom of the seas, of universal disarmament, a universal court of justice, and the League of Nations. Within all States where hitherto the old regime had fully or only partially held sway, the war imparted a strong democratic character to the political institutions, and brought about a great expansion in the socialistic movement. Through the Russian revolution it gave prominence to questions concerning the social structure of present-day States, and enforced the solution ​of universal economic problems on the lines of economic justice within the State and also between individual nations. The idea of a fair distribution of economic resources among States and nations was ventilated by the war, even though it has not been settled.
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Thus the war, which in the course of time became an expression of an immense struggle for the successive democratization of humanity in all directions of human activity, brought about or emphasized a number of fundamental questions affecting the post-war world which themselves are often regarded as the main bases of the war. In the life of each separate country this process was exhibited mainly by the democratic character which was imparted to the political institutions in all the new States, as well as in all the former absolutist or semi-democratic States. It was shown also by the manner in which the aristocratic and military classes were deprived of their influence, and the last remnants of the feudal regime were removed. It led also to the strengthening of the control over the executive power by legislative bodies, and to repeated attempts at a more satisfactory system of representation. In many cases this tendency brought about extremist actions which often caused violent reactions, such as Fascism. Such reactions are temporary and transient. Human experience extending over thousands of years has not discovered a better system of government than democracy. Every divergence from it has compelled those societies which have already enjoyed it to return to it with a rapidity corresponding to the violence with which it had been removed.
In international politics the democratizing development of present-day society, accelerated by the war, was shown chiefly in the proclamation of the principle of national self-determination, the establishment of new national States in Europe, and a marked tendency towards decentralization and autonomy in the case of heterogeneous States or empires. Here a special part was played by the idea of nationality as an ingredient of the democratizing process during and after the war as a whole, which in some quarters was inaccurately regarded as being more or less the basic factor determining the character of the war itself.
The idea of nationality is the product of modern times, a ​result of the Renaissance and Reformation, and of the humanitarian philosophy of the French Revolution, which proclaimed the rights of man and the citizen. It applies the principles of democracy not only to the individual, but also to the nation as a whole. Our own national revival derived its theories of national liberty from the humanitarian philosophy of the French, just as the other Slavonic nations did, and just as certain other nations derived from it the principles of their national unification. In a word, humanitarian philosophy is the basis of modern democracy, which in its turn is the source of a nation’s claim as a whole to political, economic, and cultural liberty. Being a struggle of Western democratism against Central and Eastern European absolutism, the war necessarily in its results became the culmination of European development during the last century in the struggle for the independence of subjugated nations.
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It has been asserted that those who regard the underlying meaning of the Great War as a struggle to impart a democratic character to the modern world on the basis of humanitarian ideals, disparage or inadequately estimate the idea of nationality which was brought into play to so large an extent by the war, and do not properly estimate what is known as nationalism. This criticism was levelled in certain quarters against President Masaryk’s conception of the war.
A nation as a collective entity in the present-day world can be something only by its ability to elaborate its system of national culture. This national culture, which includes political, economic, social, artistic, moral, and spiritual elements in general, remained a great and permanent feature in the history of mankind only as long as it corresponded with humanitarian ideals. Therefore all national cultures must strive after agreement with these ideals, which cannot be dispensed with, and must not be combated. They can and must vie with each other in the contest for moral values. I regard patriotism as love for culture of one’s own nation and respect for the culture of another nation. There is no such thing as a common human culture; there are only national cultures.
I did not fulfil my national and human duty in the struggle for national independence because I regarded the collective entity of the nation as a factor which is self-sufficing and ​constitutes an end in itself. I fulfilled this duty simply because I regarded it as a dictate of humanity for every individual just as every collective entity to live without unnecessary restrictions and to develop a national culture.
For him who believes in the ideals of humanity, every step, every act, every sentiment is a service to humanity, to the nation, and to the progress of his own individuality at the same time. Such service and such labour do not await nor demand recognition or reward. They are an end in themselves, giving the individual the maximum of satisfaction and the maximum range for expressing his personality. Such labour is regularly accompanied and sanctified by religious faith.
From an economic and social point of view the war brought into prominence within every country the question of social and economic justice. It emphasized the question of socialism, in which at the same time it brought about a profound crisis, most strikingly manifested in the struggle for communism.
The war came at a moment when, in the countries of Western Europe, democratic tendencies had already made headway in economic and social policy. But the Great War was the first war of the masses; tens of millions of people in Europe and America were engaged in it, so that the conduct of the war became a matter directly affecting the masses, who made terrible sacrifices to it as regards their property, health, and lives. The consequence was that little by little they insisted upon a share in the decisions as to their destiny, and in return for their sufferings secured recompense mainly in an economic and social respect. They desired to have a decisive word in the future as to their density, and they realized that in so doing they could secure an influence on the economic life of the State, and could jointly control it in accordance with their requirements.
The wave of socialistic ideas gained an unexpected impetus after the war. It is true, of course, that this result was largely brought about by the common war-time sufferings of the masses, but it would be an error to suppose that the democratization of Europe which was brought about by the war will be transitory. Our own State, which is industrial in character, and our people, which through its social development comprises two main classes, the agricultural and the artisan, inevitably succumbed to this influence less than other States which were politically less advanced and industrially less developed.
Here it must be emphasized that side by side with socialism, ​and sometimes against it, agrarianism developed strongly in a number of States, chiefly as a result of the important function of the farmer as a prime producer during the war, and then, too, in consequence of agrarian reform which, wherever applied, increased the number of independent farmers, and established a powerful class of agrarian democracy. This accounts also for the post-war weakening of the urban bourgeois element in all States where this process was carried out. The conservative element of this bourgeoisie was replaced in a number of States by the increasing influence of a Catholicism which is acquiring democratic tendencies.
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In an economic respect the striving towards democracy and justice, which formed one of the tendencies of the war, may be traced in the circumstance that, as I have already mentioned, for certain countries, such as Germany and Great Britain, the war represented, to a marked extent, a struggle for economic supremacy and for the freedom of the seas. Here the war merely indicated problems, and threw light on certain aspects of them, but did not solve them at all. These problems, which are difficult and delicate, are still awaiting a satisfactory solution in their entirety.
When the League of Nations was founded, it was thought of as a possible body for dealing with these matters. For example, during the discussion on colonies, the question of general economic reorganization came up indirectly, and the problem of over-population with the cognate question of colonization was touched on now and then during discussions, but was not, and could not be, settled. These are all matters which the war only skirted, leaving their settlement to future disputes and struggles. These questions also form part of the present-day tendency towards the democratization of society, and cannot be settled otherwise than by the application of democratic principles. As nations and States agree, and will continue increasingly to agree, on the subject of territory, disarmament, minorities, the international use of rivers and seas, so they will be compelled to agree on the division of economic output, on markets, on raw materials, on the emigration of surplus population, on economic contact with backward States and nations. These are, and will continue to be, the most immediate and also the most important tasks of the post-war world.
​But I do not cherish any illusions or exaggerated hopes as to international democratization and the idea of democratization in general as a panacea which will secure the permanent peace and welfare of mankind. Even democracies are not always free from tendencies towards expansion and imperialism. And as regards the failings and difficulties of the League of Nations, I am acquainted with them perhaps better than many critics of the League, just as I know the actual measure of its influence to-day.
I assert, however, that the process of democratization is one through which the present-day development of mankind is passing and will continue to pass, that it involves the perfecting of the present-day organization of the world, that it is a step, if not towards perfection and lasting happiness, at least to something better than we had before the war and than we have to-day. It limits the evils of the past, and reduces their dangers for the future. That in itself is a great deal. Therefore I am an adherent and a champion of this process, of these ideas, of this development, although I am well aware that it will not solve definitely either the problem of the social structure of the community, or that of the final relationship between States and nations, from which war will perhaps never be entirely eliminated. I regard this process, however, as a proper development towards a more lasting peace, and that is where I seek the progress which the Great War rendered possible.
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The war conveyed all these lessons to us Czechoslovaks with particular emphasis, because its meaning was identical with that of our national revolution which accompanied it. It would be absurd to expect a small nation such as ours to undertake precarious experiments for the purpose of showing others what they should do. That is not its mission, nor has it sufficient internal resources for such a proceeding. But it would be digging its own grave if it did not properly appreciate the meaning of the development of Europe and the world at large.
We were successful in our struggle because we adjusted our movement to the scope of world events. We rightly joined our struggle with the struggle of universal democracy, without considering on which side there was a preponderance of strength. We formed a correct estimate of potential developments and of the factors which were working, on one side or the other, in our ​favour or the contrary. We never acted in a time-serving spirit by counting first on one side and then on the other, nor did we ever swerve from our basic line of action. And nevertheless our policy was not that of the gambler or the visionary, but it was a policy which deliberately took into account the actual facts of the case, which worked laboriously from day to day, which built up its successes step by step.
We might have made the same mistakes as Ferdinand of Bulgaria or Constantine of Greece. Under the influence of certain well-known tendencies amongst us we. might have “staked everything on the Russian card,” but we were careful not to commit such errors as these. Our philosophico-historical conception of the war, and our conception of politics in general, gave us a proper indication of what we were to do and how we were to do it. In this lay our strength and, to a large extent, the secret of our successes.
What we achieved in the war was not due to the Tsar’s declaration on our behalf in 1914, nor to the fact that our legionaries became involved in warfare with the Bolsheviks, nor to the fact that on October 18, 1918, President Wilson once and for all settled accounts with Austria-Hungary. What brought us victory was that from the very beginning we rightly surmised the probable development in Europe and throughout the world; that we rightly estimated the various factors involved, and by unremitting daily toil cultivated, influenced, and directed them in channels which contributed to our success; that we were able in good time, at least partially, to counteract the forces hostile to us. Altogether, our victory cannot be reduced to terms of simplicity by ascribing it to this or that isolated fact; it is a complex blend of numerous elements. It was Masaryk’s greatest merit that at the very outbreak of the war he was able to form a correct judgment of affairs, and to arrange his whole activity accordingly. A philosopher of democracy, of the social and national idea, he became the leader of our revolution and the organizer of our whole movement, not only because the development of events brought him to the forefront, but chiefly because his whole previous record enabled him during the war to act as an embodiment of our aims and endeavours, our ideals and wishes. Few nations have had the good fortune to be able at a decisive moment of their history to associate themselves unreservedly, with absolute confidence and certainty, with a leader who so unmistakably symbolized ​the ideals of the age and their great political, social, economic, and moral struggles, the ideals of the future, the traditions of his nation, and its immediate desires, and who at the same time was able so effectively to draw up a programme of his political and spiritual intentions. For this reason the leader of our victorious revolution was styled the nation's liberator, and it is by this name that he will be known in our history.
The circumstances were thus favourable to us. Our time had come, and it was only a question of what we ourselves would do. It can safely be asserted that our nation fulfilled its duty during the war. Abroad, the vast majority of our people, either of their own accord or in answer to our call, entered our armies. We were waging a war, and for this purpose we had to have troops. For this reason we started organizing a large national army at the first possible opportunity; for this reason we attached so much importance to it, and we exerted all our energies to securing its sanction and recognition.
The military share of victory is generally estimated by the numerical strength of the troops engaged in hostilities, and by the number of losses which they sustained. If on this basis we compare the millions of French, English, and Italian casualties, or the hundreds of thousands of lives lost by Serbia, Belgium, and Rumania, with our own losses sustained in the Allied ranks, we see that our positive military participation, assessed from this point of view and irrespective of our passive resistance at home, was not considerable. At the same time, our action in Siberia was certainly of great importance to the Allies. And the mere fact that we had three armies, that there were about 150,000 men who of their own accord were willing to sacrifice their lives for their ideals, must be regarded as having very significant implications.
I have intentionally omitted to discuss to what extent each of the Allies individually contributed to the success of our struggle. I have limited myself to giving an account of what each of them did for us and how they did it. In our struggle for liberty each of the Allies occupied its particular position in accordance with its views and interests. They did not present us with our liberty as a gift, but let me add that we ourselves would never have won our liberty by our own strength and labour. It was a joint achievement. Every Czechoslovak is under an obligation always to bear this in mind.
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The Czechoslovak people greeted the hour of their liberation with such enthusiasm and such hopes that those familiar with collective psychology felt some concern for the moment when the nation would resume its normal life. And, as a matter of fact, the enthusiasm, the unbounded hopes, the great faith that a new life, a new world, and a semi-paradise were arising gradually began to change into a feeling of disappointment among many of our people when normal life and the current political struggles of parties and persons were resumed. Each individual had formed his own idea of what liberty would be like, and had expected from it a fulfilment of his own personal wishes, and the same applies to the majority of the political parties.
There was an impressiveness about this belief even if it was somewhat naïve and superficial. But the hardships of the war were at an end, and this fact alone worked upon the imagination of those who had suffered so much that it seemed to them as if they were about to enter paradise. And the idea of national liberty, a liberty the concrete effects of which in daily life were realized by few, manifested itself to the various classes, parties, and individuals first and foremost in its most ideal form.
The humdrum routine of daily life, however, with its clash of interests and opinions, with its conflicts of classes, parties, and persons, then had to be faced, and almost immediately people forgot those memorable days of the struggle for liberty, when adversaries embraced one another, when men's chief thought was of their common labour for the national cause, when enthusiastic tribute was rendered to the unselfishness and arduous perseverance of those who had fulfilled their duty at the darkest hour. The daily struggle of interests and aspirations brought with it a sense of disillusionment in various quarters, which was all the more unjustified according as it sought to burden others with the responsibility.
The events of the last twelve years have nevertheless strengthened my optimism-an optimism based upon the realities of life, prompted by imagination, grappling with hardships and injustices, and leading the spirit to a labour permeated with the desire for ideals; in short, a firm, active, and uncompromising optimism.