A Czechoslovakist life

Josette Baer's “A Life Dedicated to the Republic” is a book about Vavro Srobár (1867-1950), a Czechoslovak activist, politician and writer. Srobár was a person of some standing in the First Czechoslovak Republic. Today, he is less known than T G Masaryk, Edvard Benes and Milan Rastislav Stefánik, the troika that secured Czechoslovak statehood after the First World War. Srobár's political memory has been sullied by his collaboration with the Communists after their coup in 1948. Baer tries to defend his reputation, not always convincingly. Her book is somewhat eclectic, jumping between political analyses and personal anecdotes, and could have needed better editing. Since it's the only English-language book about Srobár, students of Central European history who don't read Czech or Slovak must probably read it anyway!

Vavro Srobár was a Slovak by nationality, but simultaneously a strong supporter of Czechoslovakism, the notion that Czechs and Slovaks form one nation and should therefore create a united nation-state. This goal was achieved in 1918, when the Czech lands (previously controlled by Austria) and Slovakia (previously under Hungarian control) were united to form the new independent republic of Czechoslovakia. The main spokesman for Czechoslovakism was T G Masaryk, Czechoslovakia's first president. I think Masaryk wanted a “united” (really Czech-dominated) Czechoslovak nationality as a counterweight to the Germans and Hungarians, two substantial minority groups in First Republic Czechoslovakia, actually being the majority in many regions. While Czechoslovakism was thus a Czech project, some Slovak political groups also supported it. To Srobár, Czechoslovakism (which was seen as modern, secular and democratic) was a counterweight to the Catholic Church, which dominated Slovakia. Czech influence was the best hope for modernization and enlightenment in backward Slovakia. Srobár also accused the Slovak nationalists of having been too passive in their opposition to pre-1918 Hungarian rule, either because of deference to the Catholic hierarchy, which was Hungarian-controlled, or because of Russophilia, simply waiting for the Czar to “liberate” Slovakia. The Czechs, by contrast, meant business (and were oriented to the democratic West).

Srobár's “main claim to fame” came in 1918-20, when he was Minister Plenipotentiary for Slovakia, charged with implementing Czechoslovak (and Czechoslovakist) rule on Slovak territory. The task was a daunting one. The German and Hungarian populations refused to accept the Czechoslovak administration. The economically strong Jews were pro-Hungarian. Bratislava, chosen to be the capital of Slovakia, had a mostly hostile non-Slovak population and was situated only a stone's throw from Hungarian territory. To make matters worse, in 1919, Bela Kun's Communists took power in Hungary and then proceeded to invade Slovakia. Srobár had near-dictatorial powers, but obviously inspired little fear, as many of the (almost comical) anecdotes in Baer's book show. Somehow, Srobár nevertheless muddled through and secured Slovakia for Prague. The fall of the Hungarian Soviet Republic may have been decisive. The 1920 agrarian reform in Slovakia, which weakened the economic power of the old nobility and the Catholic Church, was also an important factor in securing popular support for the new order. However, Czechoslovakism never became the dominant political tendency in Slovakia, Slovak nationalism always being at least as strong (or stronger).

In 1938-39, Nazi Germany smashed Czechoslovakia with the aid of the Catholic and Slovak nationalist party HSLS, which declared Slovakia independent (in reality, a puppet-state to Hitler's Reich). Despite being over 70 years of age, Srobár formed an underground Czechoslovakist resistance group to the pro-Nazi Slovak government during World War II. When the German military smashed the 1944 partisan revolt against the HSLS regime, Srobár and some of his associates managed to escape to the Soviet Union. After the liberation of Czechoslovakia by the Red Army in 1945, both Srobár and other “bourgeois” figures from the First Czechoslovak Republic (including President Edvard Benes) joined the Communist-dominated National Front administration. Under the circumstances of the time, this was probably inevitable. More problematic is the fact that Srobár continued collaborating with the Communists even after the 1948 coup, when the Communist Party liquidated the remaining democratic parties and instituted one-party rule. Srobár, now over 80 years old, decided to drone on as a government minister, in effect becoming a “democratic” fig leaf for Klement Gottwald's Stalinists.

Baer unconvincingly argues that Srobár couldn't possibly know what the Communists were planning to do, yet “he wasn't senile” (apparently a common accusation). More convincingly, Baer argues that Srobár may have supported the Communists due to his strong anti-German and anti-Hungarian nationalism (Hungary was a Nazi German ally), anti-Catholicism, and (ironically) also because of his Czechoslovakism, since the Czech-dominated Communist Party restored a united Czechoslovakia after World War II. Srobár, ever the pragmatist, was perhaps willing to pay the price of Communist one party rule, if it meant furthering the modernization of Slovakia. By contrast, most of the opposition to Communism in Slovakia came from Catholic nationalists, a group of people Srobár had distrusted most of his life. Baer also claims that Srobár became “smitten” by Stalin's personality after meeting the man in Moscow. I'm less sure if I buy this, since Srobár's memoirs of meeting the Soviet leader were written after 1948. Obviously, we can't expect him to write critically of Little Father at this point!

“A Life Dedicated to the Republic” is probably mostly of interest to specialized students of Czechoslovak or Central European history, and as already indicated, it's not the most gracious read around, but I nevertheless give it three stars.