In recent years there have been a number of fine monographs by European and North American scholars on the Bohemian Lands, and this innovative, stimulating and carefully researched work by Tara Zahra ranks with the best of them. Zahra focuses on the question of children, their well-being, upbringing, and education, as targets of nationalist activism in the Bohemian Lands, thereby raising important questions about the role of nationalism in modern East Central European history. Her starting point is the assertion that “indifference to nationalism was not simply a relic of a premodern age. It was itself a driving force behind escalating nationalist radicalism” (5). Sharing a similar approach to Pieter Judson, Zahra argues that historians have overlooked the nationally indifferent and, like many other scholars, stresses the “fundamental contingency and fungibility of national loyalties” (6). By looking at those not swayed by nationalist arguments, Zahra aims to set up a different reading of nationalism in the region: it was not nationalism's success that led to nationalist movements becoming extreme, but its relative failure. At the same time, Zahra seeks not to tell the story “from both sides,” but to adopt a “transnational” approach that challenges national categories and narratives (8). If, in practice, the latter aim proves more difficult to achieve—the analysis alternating for the most part between Czech and German nationalist activities—this becomes rather secondary when compared to the wealth of fascinating material that Zahra unearths.
The book starts with a recollection by German writer Robert Scheu about September being a busy time of year for nationalists in the Habsburg monarchy, for this was the moment when decisions became clear about which children were going to which schools, with Czech and German nationalists seemingly competing right up to the bell to see how many children had been “won” for their nation and the right to be educated in their language. Zahra examines this battle over the national ascription of children (and by implication, their parents) by looking first of all at those who did not fit neatly into one category—the bilingual, or “national hermaphrodites.” Such people caused much headache for nationalist organizations, who sought to impose the monolingual pedagogical orthodoxy of the day. In doing so, nationalists were given incentives at a general level by the Austrian census, which only allowed for the naming of one mother tongue, and, more particularly, by the stipulations of the Moravian Compromise of 1905. Article 20 of that agreement, known as the Lex Perek, held that children might only be accepted into an elementary school if proficient in the language of instruction (33). This then became a touchstone for actions in neighboring Bohemia and, subsequently, for policies in the First Czechoslovak Republic. The Lex Perek thus encouraged further competition over the national belonging of children, as national organizations sought to persuade parents—often with material incentives—that their children should be sent to a German or a Czech school.
As with the workings of the Lex Perek, there were to be important continuities pre- and post-1918 in nationalist activities. Yet, the key change after 1918 was that census takers and state officials were given the power to “correct” a person's declared nationality if this did not correspond to observed—“objective”—characteristics. Consequently, as Zahra illustrates, many members of the German minority were reclassified as Czechs. If the Nazi takeover of Czechoslovak territory from October 1938 onward then seemed to promise “revenge” for the “oppressed” Germans, the unfolding of Nazi policy was less straightforward and led to many Sudeten German complaints. Although obviously favoring Germanization in principle, the imperatives of the war economy made it difficult to expand the German educational and welfare infrastructure, on the one hand, and necessary to harness the existing Czech labor force on the other. In consequence, the Germanization program—fierce after Heydrich's assassination in 1942—gradually lost momentum. Nonetheless, by 1945, decades of national conflict meant that, both in terms of goals and practices, Czechs and Germans had come to pursue the idea of ethnic purity; this, in turn, meant that most Czech nationalists saw “ethnic cleansing” and the expulsions of Germans after 1945 as the only means to remove the danger of Germanization.
In charting these developments, and reconstructing the often poignant destinies of bilingual families who did not fit, Zahra has produced an excellent case study of a neglected topic. As well as taking note of these findings, historians will want—and need—to debate the wider claims made in the book; and there are four areas of potential discussion. First is the question of whether “national indifference” can be elevated to the level of explanatory tool to the extent suggested here. To state that nationalist activity was motivated by national indifference is true enough. Yet, does indifference really explain what the author refers to as the “nagging question” about “how we get from this world of national ambivalence and ambiguity in 1900 to the violent homogenization of Eastern Europe through ethnic cleansing during and after World War II?” (11).
In fact, this is more than just a nagging question. Arguably, it is the question about modern European nationalism. Zahra suggests focusing on the changing role of the state as one of the best means of answering it, as most scholars probably would. Indeed, the ambitious chronological span of this work allows Zahra to trace clearly the shift from the (virtually) neutral stance of the Habsburg state to the partisan interventionism of subsequent regimes—primarily the First Czechoslovak Republic, the occupying Nazi Germans, and the postwar Czechoslovak Republic—under which the nationally indifferent were increasingly squeezed, without retreating entirely. Ultimately, however, this shift in the role of the state begs the second question of why the state changed in this way. That, in turn, can only be done by asking why the state and—given the state is not merely a faceless monolith—the political and social elites (and much of the population) accepted nationalist paradigms. The existence of “national indifference” can only partly help to explain such developments.
Following on, a third point of issue is how numerically significant the “nationally ambivalent” were. Hard-and-fast figures cannot be expected even for those who made an unambiguous declaration of neutrality, although Zahra does a fine job in uncovering the history of those less likely to leave clear traces—“indifference to nationalism was rarely a memorable historical event” (5). Nevertheless, it does seem possible to establish a rough sense of proportions and figures. Demographers looking at several Bohemian towns around 1900 indicate around 16–20 percent of their populations being bilingual—a significant proportion, but a clear minority. So it remains open to question as to whether the investigation of these “bilinguists” can do more than lay bare “the false assumption that language use transparently reflected national loyalties or ethnicity” (6). That is a worthwhile exercise, but does it fully explain why nationalism became more radical and why a majority accepted nationalist norms?
Finally, in seeking to understand the lack of appeal of nationalism for certain groups, there are further questions that might have been asked as to why this was so. Zahra indicates that some remained nationally indifferent out of habit, some out of conviction (and, it seems, less often out of “ignorance,” although that is sometimes what frustrated middle-class nationalists implied). But was this a reflection of indifference tout court? Or, if people were nationally indifferent, was this because they placed certain other political beliefs higher than nationalism, especially given that a large proportion of them came from the urban and rural working classes? And, if the talk is about the kidnapping of souls, where does religion fit into the picture? Were people nationally indifferent because they believed that religious teachings were more important? On these issues, the analysis might well have probed further.
Zahra's work provides invigorating suggestions and much material for further debate. Refreshing in its choice of theme and skillfully executed, this illuminating study represents a considerable achievement—and will leave no one indifferent.
