Masaryk's absence. It was on his initiative that the Little Alliance
of Czecho-Slovakia and Jugo-Slavia was founded, with the support of
Italy and eventually including Roumania. Whilst this was nominally to
prevent the return of the Hapsburgs or the reuniting of Austria and
Hungary, it has also had another function--that of drawing together all
the States deriving territory from the break up of Austria--even
uniting Italy and Serbia, up till recently preoccupied with mortal
enmity over the Dalmatic. It is a great service to unity to have this
group of powers with a common understanding, and will perhaps be more
highly appreciated in the future than it is now.
Dr. Benes is a spare, pinched-faced man of the people, not a typical
Czech in appearance, a nervous type, of probably tireless energy. Not
one of those that "sleep o' nights." He had, however, an agreeable
smile of acquiescence when complimented on his work for unity. "I do
not believe in the war after the war," said he. "All the nations that
composed Austria-Hungary were exasperated, and have been in a bad
mental state greatly aggravated by the war. We want to get rid of the
war-mind. With that in view we are developing a policy which should
make for stability in Central Europe. The most dangerous word used in
propaganda against us in 'Balkanization'--as if to suggest that all
these regions had become unstable and liable to Balkan quarrels. But,
in truth, in three years we have made great progress towards a settled
state of affairs.
"Germany will fall. If she agrees to pay she will fall, and equally if
the sanctions are applied she will fall. She will not go so low as
Austria because she is a much stronger national organism, but her
export trade will be ruined, and the mark will become almost of no
value. The application of the export duty on German goods is not
popular, but we are applying it. It will raise the cost of living, and
be a great inconvenience to many businesses which depend on Germany,
but on the other hand some of our younger industries may be helped by
such a measure of protection----"
Regarding the Little Alliance Dr. Benes was clearly enthusiastic, but
he could not see it developing into a customs-union. "We shall have
treaties regarding tariffs according to our mutual needs." He hoped
the Alliance might develop to take in Poland, but at present Poland was
in a difficult frame of mind, very readily jealous and not generally
benevolent.
The Slavs are vociferous believers in unity. They invented the word
"pan-humanity." It is the most vital idea in Russia. But is it not
strange that the peoples who are the strongest believers in human unity
are the most quarrelsome amongst themselves. The greatest weakness of
the Slav nations lies in national vanity, egoism, and lack of
solidarity. They have not the sense for discipline obtaining among
Latins and Teutons. Perhaps in this respect the Czechs are wiser than
Poles, Russians, and Serbs. But the fact remains that the Slavs do not
readily co-operate, and as nations have little of the modern sense for
"team-work."
Take the case of Poland, Czecho-Slovakia's obstreporous northern
neighbour. Both have been raised from the dead at the same time, and
are brothers in resurrection. Both have great capacity to help one
another. But one finds an almost complete detachment, as if the
frontier line were an ocean.
"We send goods into Poland--and the Polish Government sequesters them,"
say the Czechs. "We load our trains with stuff for them, and then our
trains never come back. Many whole trains have disappeared in Poland,
and we get no satisfaction."
A new type of crime--train-stealing! "No," says Dr. Benes; "we must
wait patiently till it occurs to the Poles that a close brotherly
relationship between the two countries is better than suspicion and
jealousy."
"Why do you not take the step yourself?"
"It would be suspected of having some hidden motive, or we should be
thought to be in terrible need of Poland's help," said Bohemia's
minister.
As regards the interior troubles of Czecho-Slovakia, much is made of
the Slovak separatist movement, and the Germans exploit the supposed
racial animosities of the two Slav tribes. The Slovaks also obtain
some sympathy from our "Save the children" missionaries, who naturally
prefer unspoiled peasants to educated foreigners of any kind. If the
Slovak hates the Czech he hates the Magyar also, but whether he hates
or not he is not very important in Europe, and is bound to find himself
in a subordinate national position. The enmity of the German elements
is more menacing, and it is not to be denied that the new State holds a
million or so people who, by the accident of habitat, have to be called
Czecho-Slovaks, though they are no more Czecho-Slovaks than Lot and his
wife.
I met among others Dr. Isidor Muller, first assistant at the University
of Vienna, but living at Carlovivari (Carlsbad), and naturally enough
unable to speak Czech and unacquainted with Czechs, but written down as
Czecho-Slovak now. Still, it has its advantages. He told me that he
was once being rudely treated by a French officer who took him for a
Boche. The Frenchman was disinclined to shake hands.
"But I am a Czecho-Slovak," said Dr. Muller, inspirationally.
"Oh!" The Frenchman's face lighted up. He extended his hand. "We are
brothers and allies."
Still some German Czecho-Slovaks think they will ultimately overthrow
the new State and get into the saddle again. And they make a solid and
dangerous political bloc. Benes said they were much more amenable than
a year ago, but in the Parliament House--an adapted concert-hall--I saw
all the carpenters at work in a litter of shavings and broken wood.
"The German benches," said the editor of the "Narodni Listi," who was
showing me round the institutions of Prague.
Czecho-Slovakia holds now, besides her natural constituent races, a
considerable number of Russian exiles, and these have their Russian
daily paper at Prague and a number of local Russian enterprises. With
the calming down of Soviet Russia, some of these Russians would
naturally return home, but a few have taken root and will remain. It
is not an uncongenial soil for the average Russian. Then the
Government has agreed to take ten thousand of General Wrangel's
soldiers, and will endeavour to settle them on the land. There are
already too many non-Slavonic elements in Czecho-Slovakia, and Russians
will help to neutralize some of the Magyar and German influences. At
least, such is the hope. As a step in this direction, there has
developed also an important Church movement. A large portion of the
Roman Catholic clergy have split from Rome and founded a Czech National
Church. They have left the Pope, and have in return been
excommunicated. Apparently excommunication has not a great terror,
however. National Catholicism without an infallible Pope is not far
removed from Greek Catholicism and even Anglicanism. Austria and
Hungary are Roman Catholic, but Czecho-Slovakia will remain either
Protestant or National Catholic.
The abandonment of the German language is also a remarkable phenomenon.
The common will is to abandon it. Unfortunately, the Czech language is
of limited use, but there is now a remarkable passion for learning
English, and there are thousands of students at the University classes.
This boom is due to President Wilson. The Russian language is also
extensively known among the ex-soldiers who sojourned so many years as
prisoners or as legionaries in Russia. The French language having lost
much of its value has not so many students. The "Narodni Listi," which
is the principal Czech newspaper in Prague, prints two columns in
French every day for the convenience of foreigners who do not
understand Bohemian. This idea is being extended, and a daily
supplement in English is to be issued soon.
Two evenings spent at the theatre at Prague were curiously in contrast:
one at the German National Theatre, to hear "The Blue Mazurka," by
Lehar, author of "The Merry Widow," and other less entertaining
operettas. The imposing building of the Deutsche Theatre was crammed
with Germans who took pleasure in a characteristic sentimental
operetta. The other evening was at the Czech National Theatre to see a
performance of "Coriolanus," and was more interesting. The Czechs had
great difficulties under the Austro-Hungarian regime in obtaining a
national theatre. The Imperial Government was not anxious to encourage
Czech language and literature, and therefore refused to grant the State
subsidy on which national theatres usually depend. This, however, did
not deter the Czechs. It made them only the more determined to have a
national theatre. It should be remembered that drama has a much
greater national importance in the continental countries of Europe than
it has in England or America. Excitement over such a matter might seem
incredible to Anglo-Saxons, not so to Slavs or to Germans. The
proposed deprivation of the Czechs of a national stage stirred the
people to the depths, and it was not long before men and women were
busy collecting the money to build and sustain a Czech theatre at
Prague. The funds were raised, and the place was built, and the
Bohemian people inscribed over the proscenium the challenging words:
"_Narod Sobe_"--The people for itself.
"Coriolanus" was conceived of rather as a struggle with the
proletariat. Hillar, the producer, has effectually disenchanted the
footlights by putting steps down to the audience in the position of the
prompter's box. The characters frequently make their entrances as it
were from the body of the audience. This is especially striking in the
crowding up of the Roman Bolsheviks on to the stage in the opening
scene--a remarkable piece of life and action. However, though one
naturally thought of the Bolsheviks, there was nothing of the guise of
Lenin or Liebknecht in the appearance of the popular tribunes, who,
together with the rest of the citizens, were reduced to the level of
Dogberry, whilst the noble Coriolanus was perhaps exaggerated in his
nobility and his disdain. Menenius Agrippa was a Balfourian old fellow
who told the story of the Belly and its members well. What a story for
Europe to learn now: it ought to be put in the reading-books of every
tongue.
What struck me about the Czech performance of "Coriolanus" was the
dignity of personality and height of conception which the Slavs bring
to the interpretation of Shakespeare. It was the same in Moscow in the
old days. Hamlet was more interestingly conceived and better performed
than anywhere else in the world.
An interesting play reflecting in itself the world-drama, was lately
produced at Prague under the title "R.U.R.," or "Rasum's Universal
Rabots." A scientist named Dr. Rasum succeeded in inventing a human
automaton, a human being except for the fact that it had no soul and no
power of reproducing itself. They were excellent for use in factories
and in armies, and the firm of Rasum, Ltd., supplied them in hundreds
and thousands to companies and States. Eventually the Rabots, as they
are called, combine and make war against the real people with the
souls, and they destroy Dr. Rasum and his factory, and even the plan
and the secret whereby the Rabots are made. They also destroy the real
people, all but one, and a great sadness comes upon the world as it is
realized that man must die out. At the end of the play, however, a
soul is born in one of the Rabots, and he is touched to love, and so he
obtains the power to reproduce the species, and the human story
recommences. A striking idea for a drama, and capable of arousing much
excitement in Labour's literary circles. I heard that the rights had
been bought for almost every country of Europe. In the drama, as in
music and art, the Slavs are always passing Teuton and Latin, backward
though they may be in other matters.
Enough has been said to register the opinion that the new State of
Bohemia is very promising, and that it is a redeeming case in the
welter of New Europe. As far as Prague is concerned it leaves behind
its provincial recent-past, recovers its ancient-past, and looks
towards a great future. New buildings will arise worthy of a capital,
new administrative offices and a new Parliament House are to be built.
Around the Parliament House it is designed to place the cycle of
Mucha's mystical paintings lately exhibited in New York. These
traverse the whole story of the Slavs, and especially that of the
Czechs, but not, however, omitting the story of Russia, from the
baptism of Vladimir to the emancipation of the serfs. Czecho-Slovakia
will raise the banner of a new Pan-Slavism and Slav unity. The faith
is kindled here that whilst many other nations are going mad,
Czecho-Slovakia may keep her head and be one of those who by her
example and leadership will save Europe from disruption and chaos.
LETTERS OF TRAVEL
X. FROM WARSAW
As at Constantinople, there is great over-crowding. There are three
times as many people on the pavements as on the pavements of Vienna or
Prague. The Marshalkowsky is a-flocking from end to end. Finding a
room for the night is a hard task. You will see a great deal of Warsaw
before you find a room. It is not a bad way to obtain a first
impression. I arrived at one in the afternoon and found a place for
myself only at ten at night. The once luxurious Hotel Bristol was full
to-day, no hope for to-morrow, no, nor for to-morrow week. At the
Royal Hotel a lugubrious porter says "_l'hotel n'existe plus_." The
Victoria, which was the first hotel I ever stayed at in Russia, knew me
no more. At the Metropole a preoccupied clerk said "_Nima_" without
looking up from the news from the Silesian front which was engrossing
him. I went into a terribly shabby and dirty hotel called the
Amerikansky, and hoped they'd say "No," which they certainly did.
Another doubtful establishment with girls on the stairs was also gorged
and replete with visitors. The Y.M.C.A. said they'd enough trouble
finding rooms for their own people. The Hotel de Rome was occupied by
the Red Cross. The Kowiensky was _alles besetst_; the Hotel de Saxe
had not even a hope.
These efforts were naturally punctuated by visits to the Polish "bar"
and café. At these it came as somewhat of a surprise to have tips
refused. I paid for my dinner and added the customary ten per cent.
The waiter drew himself up and waved his hand in deprecation.
"No, no," said he, proudly; "I'm Polish."
"What, no tips now?"
"No."
"That is certainly an improvement," I reflected. In Warsaw, in Russian
days, most waiters fawned disgustingly for tips. But it seems now as
if there were an entirely new population. However, I resumed my quest
of a lodging. At the Imperial Hotel they kindly relieved me of my
knapsack and overcoat, and advised me to come back at eight or nine at
night--there might be a room then. Meanwhile I should continue
seeking. So the Cracowsky was tried, and the Lipsky, once Leipzig, and
the Adlon and the Pretoria, and many another haunt of mice and men.
Then I returned to the Imperial for the second time. No, there was no
room. It had been a lovely day, only too hot, and the evening was
warm. I thought pleasantly of the Saxon Gardens and its seats.
Then Poland revealed itself. "You want a room very badly, don't you?"
said the Imperial Hotel porter. "I'll arrange it for you. But it will
cost you something. You take my card to a certain hotel, which I will
mention to you, hand it to the porter and give him a thousand marks,
and he'll fix you up at once."
So I repaired to the Hotel Vienna, opposite the Vienna station. The
night porter was very pessimistic, wouldn't take the thousand marks.
"Come back in an hour," said he in a loud voice; "if there is a room
then you'll have it; if not, you can't."
I went out to an orchestral "bar" near by and supped. When I came back
the porter asked quietly for the thousand, and gave me the key of
"Number Five." "At your service," said he, demurely.
Warsaw has greatly changed during the time I have known it, from the
days of panic and police-assassinations in 1906, when the miserable
green waggons of open horse-trams woggled along the main ways, and it
seemed a city of endless cobbled stones. Warsaw was being governed by
Russia much as we govern Ireland now, and murders of constabulary
alternated with reprisals in which the innocent suffered more than the
guilty. Strangely enough, the relentless methods of official Russia
succeeded in subduing the revolutionaries, and in a few years was seen
a calm and prosperous condition of affairs which lasted until the
outbreak of the late war. A handsome service of electric trams and a
great new bridge over the Vistula raised Warsaw's level from an
external point of view, and made it something like a modern city. Then
came the war, the German aeroplanes and their bombs, the violent
attacks and the panics, shell-fire, the blowing-up of bridges, wild
exodus of Warsaw people and entry of the Germans. Of the people who
fled into Russia in 1915 few seem to have returned. Their places have
been filled by Poles from German and Austrian Poland. The
German-speaking Pole has displaced the Pole who knew Russian.
The Germans, of course, held the city from the summer of 1915 until the
armistice, and they repaired the bridges and instituted German order in
the city. The miracle of the armistice raised Poland from death, and
now we have Warsaw as capital of a large new State. The maps of Poland
in the streets, Poland as she is plus Poland as she believes she will
be, show a country considerably larger than Germany.
It used to seem rather amusing in the drinking scene in "The Brothers
Karamazof," when the Pole Vrublevsky, in proposing the health of
Russia, inserted the proviso: "To Russia, with the boundaries she had
before 1772." But it is serious matter to-day. For Poland has not
only reached most of the boundaries of 1772 but some of them she has
even transgressed, and still she asks more.
Poland is at enmity with all her neighbours, and by some of them is
hated, loathed, and despised. And as an offset to the surrounding
nations she has one open and rather noisy friendship, and that is with
France. England she considered to be her enemy even before the British
Government stated its view on the question of Silesia. She had decided
to help France, and France had promised to help Poland, and England
stood in the way of all manner of injustice and aggression. It is
pathetic to think now of the work done for Poland by England during the
war: the meetings that were held, the encouragement given to
Padarewski, Dmowski and others, the immense sums subscribed to the
Great Britain to Poland fund, and to the Polish Relief fund. These
latter "charities" printed the woes of Poland in the advertisement
columns of the British press for years, and collected the shillings and
pounds of the benevolent everywhere. But you did not see such work
being done for Poland in France. The Frenchman is more careful of his
franc than the Englishman of his pound. But perhaps it is not easy to
find now the Poles who benefited by British "charity." How much Great
Britain subscribed and how the money was distributed is not generally
known to the Pole. And, in any case, who cares?
The Germans disdain the Poles wordlessly. It is not easy to get a
German to discuss the Polish people. The Russians do not like the
Poles, but they are indulgent towards them and wait the day when Russia
will wipe out insults. "Russia has plenty of time," is the formula.
It must be a little galling to the Russian refugees, of whom General
Wrangel estimates there are 100,000 in Poland, to see every public
notice in the Russian language blued out as if there were no
Russian-speaking people, to see Russian monuments cast down, and
churches despoiled of their golden domes. But they bear it with
equanimity, biding their time. Some, on the other hand, forgive the
Poles because they recognize that Russians would have done the same in
like case. The people of the other neighbouring States are distrustful
or aloof. In a friendship with France, however, Poland would make up
for all other enmities. Marshal Pilsudsky, with the glory of having
defeated the Russians and won a victorious peace, is now pictured with
Napoleon. He is even represented on picture post-cards pinning an
order of merit on the breast of Napoleon--the occasion being the
centenary of Napoleon's death. Pilsudsky is a man of sentiment, and
when he made his important diplomatic journey to Paris last February,
he bore with him a picture of Joan of Arc by Jan Mateiks, in order to
express the gratitude of the Polish people to France. In Pilsudsky's
honour a lesson in Polish geography and history was ordered to be given
in all the schools of France on the 5th of February, 1921.
Prince Sapieha and Marshal Pilsudsky negotiated a secret treaty with
France on that occasion--not with the Allies as a whole, but with
France. As a seasonal fruit of that treaty came the Silesian adventure
supported by France. The disarming of the population in Upper Silesia,
conducted under French auspices, had taken the arms away from the
Germans but left arms with the Poles. Added to that, guns,
machine-guns, rifles, and ammunition, were run over into the plebiscite
area, and a mercenary "insurrectionary" army was raised, partly from
the local Polish population and partly from Poland proper. An army
which the French Government held to be capable of intimidating the
League of Nations garrison of ten thousand fully equipped men, was thus
improvised. The supposition is that interested parties connived at its
improvisation. It could not otherwise have sprung spontaneously into
being. After the first week of the rising, many of the insurgents
began to desert the leader Korfanty on the ground that their wages were
not high enough. Much money had to be spent in the affair. It might
be asked what interest has France to support Poland--is it sentiment?
Many will attribute it to a French quixoticism, which in truth does not
exist. France will be ready to drop Pilsudsky, as she has dropped
Wrangel, when it suits her. But the French programme for Europe
includes the complete dismantling of the German Empire, and by taking
away Upper Silesia from Germany another great victory would be won in
the war after the war. Therefore it has been worth while. And to this
end France proceeds not openly but in the old-fashioned channels of
secret intrigue. The favourite device is the arranging of a _coup_ and
then the presentation of the _fait accompli_, accompanied by a
manipulation of the press. It is almost unnecessary to say in English
that this sort of procedure has greatly damaged international
understanding and good-will.