War and the Humanities : The Cultural Impact of the First World War [1 ed.] 9783657788248, 9783506788245

Citation preview

War and the Humanities

War (Hi) Stories Edited by Frank Jacob, Sarah K. Danielsson, Hiram Kümper, Sabine Müller, Jeffrey M. Shaw

Vol. 2

Scientific Board Jürgen Angelow, Martin Clauss, Christian Gerlach, Verena Moritz, Stefan Rinke, Stefanie Schüler-Springorum, Roman Töppel, Jorit Wintjes

Frank Jacob · Jeffrey M. Shaw · Timothy Demy (Eds.)

War and the Humanities The Cultural Impact of the First World War

Ferdinand Schöningh

Cover illustration: WWI Soldiers in Training (1918). © University of Pittsburgh Historic Photographs, 1884–present, Oakland.

Bibliografische Information der Deutschen Nationalbibliothek Die Deutsche Nationalbibliothek verzeichnet diese Publikation in der Deutschen Nationalbibliografie; detaillierte bibliografische Daten sind im Internet über http://dnb.d-nb.de abrufbar. Alle Rechte vorbehalten. Dieses Werk sowie einzelne Teile desselben sind urheberrechtlich geschützt. Jede Verwertung in anderen als den gesetzlich zugelassenen Fällen ist ohne vorherige schriftliche Zustimmung des Verlags nicht zulässig. © 2019 Verlag Ferdinand Schöningh, ein Imprint der Brill Gruppe (Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, Niederlande; Brill USA Inc., Boston MA, USA; Brill Asia Pte Ltd, Singapore; Brill Deutschland GmbH, Paderborn, Deutschland) Internet: www.schoeningh.de Einbandgestaltung: Nora Krull, Bielefeld Herstellung: Brill Deutschland GmbH, Paderborn ISBN 978-3-506-78824-5

Contents Introduction  1 Frank Jacob, Jeffrey Shaw, and Timothy Demy “Every Nation Fights in the Name of Its Own Spirit”: The Intellectuals’ Great War in the East  21 Maciej Górny Foreign Language Studies at the University of Graz (Austria-Hungary) during the First World War: A Micro-Historical Exploration of Cultural War Responses  53 Andreas Golob Switzerland and the Great War – 100 Years of Historiography  85 Marcel Berni “Where the Tree Falls”: The National Cemetery System and the Post-WWI Construction of an International Nationalism  105 Allison Lynn Wanger 100 Percent Americanism in the Concert Hall: The Minneapolis Symphony in the Great War  147 Michael J. Pfeifer Birth of a Nation: Theatrical Interventions in the Legacy of the Great War and Ideas of Canada’s National Identity  161 Lindsay Thistle Contributors  189 Index  193

Introduction Frank Jacob, Jeffrey Shaw and Timothy Demy The German medieval historian Johannes Helmrath correctly remarks, that “jubilees keep … historians busy in a way, as if history demanded its own investigation”.1 With regard to the First World War, the centennial beginnin­ gin 2014 stimulated the production of countless works – a “veritable flood of publications”2 that dealt with the events before, during, and after this “semi­ nal catastrophe”3 of the 20th century. German military historian Jürgen An­ gelow emphasizes, that “immense ‘material battles’ (Materialschlachten) of source based research” took place, “whose scientific ‘territorial gains’ are rang­ ing from fundamental insights and theses to small corrections and partial understandings”.4 He further highlights that a systematization of the literature related to the First World War is almost impossible, and he does not fail to warn about an “isolated national perspective”5 that would be insufficient to explain the war or any of its impacts. Regardless of its impact, the role of the centennial has also been questioned, since it stimulated public discourses that were mostly dealing with old ques­ tions about guilt,6 instead of dealing with underresearched areas of the war’s

1 Johannes Helmrath, “Das Reich: 962 – 1356 – 1806: Zusammenfassende Überlegungen zur Tagung ‘Die Goldene Bulle’”, in Die Goldene Bulle: Politik – Wahrnehmung – Rezension, vol. 2, eds. Ulrike Hohensee et al. (Berlin: Akademie Verlag , 2009), 1138. 2 Axel Weipert, Salvador Oberhaus, Detlef Nakath, and Bernd Hüttner, “Vorwort der Herausge­ ber”, in “Maschine zur Brutalisierung der Welt?” Der Erste Weltkrieg – Deutungen und Haltungen 1914 bis heute (Münster: Westfälisches Dampfboot, 2017), 7. 3 George F. Kennan, The Decline of Bismarck’s European Order: Franco-Russian Relations, 1875– 1890 (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1979), 3. 4 Jürgen Angelow, Der Weg in die Urkatastrophe: Der Zerfall des alten Europa 1900–1914 (Berlin: bebra, 2010), 10. All translations from German throughout the text are by the authors. 5 Ibid., 12. 6 This public discussion in Europe was mainly driven by the success of Christopher Clark, Sleepwalkers: How Europe Went to War in 1914 (London: Penguin, 2013) that focused on Ser­ bia’s role during the July Crisis of 1914. For a critical perspective on the guilt discussion in the course of the centennial see: Frank Jacob and Riccardo Altieri, “Einleitung: Der Erste Weltkrieg, Geschichtsrevisionismus und der” Sündenfall “der deutschen Sozialdemokratie”, in Krieg und Frieden im Spiegel des Sozialismus, 1914–1918, eds. idem (Berlin: Metropol, 2018), forthcoming.

© Verlag Ferdinand Schoningh, 2019 | doi:10.30965/9783506788245_002

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history.7 The First World War was a catalyst for many changes that went be­ yond the fall of the old autocratic empires and the establishment of new na­ tion states in Central Europe, the Balkans, and the Middle East. It also marked the transformation of class into mass societies, the beginning of the end of co­ lonialism, the formation of international political structures, i.e. the League of Nations, as well as new developments in arts, music, technology, and science.8 It is therefore not surprising that the perception of the war was as wide ranged as its impact. For American observers, and later participants alike, it was “a glo­ rious, shameful, wonderful, catastrophic, magnificent, appalling war”, as well as a conflict that eventually “promised to end war by the defeat of militarism, whereas is appears to have ushered in a century noted for war and militarism”.9 Since, what Eric Hobsbawm (1917–2012) had referred to as, an “age of extremes”10 followed the First World War and the Russian Revolutions of 191711 that were caused by it determined the course of the 20th century, it seems to be not surprising that “Historians have fought over the war almost as fiercely as participants fought in it”.12 Repeatedly, even until the present, nationalist, if not revisionist, interpretations were offered from one side, while more and more historians of a global school argued to take the discussion beyond na­ tional narratives. Nevertheless, “The soldiers of the pen have found small range of agreement beyond the consensus that the war is a benchmark in history”.13 The debate, similar to the one related to the centennial, mostly focused on the question who had been guilty of the outbreak of the war. Although it seems to be uncontested that the German policy played a decisive role in the events in 1914,14 the French historian Jules Isaac (1877–1963) had alreay concluded in the 1930s, that all participants were responsible due their lack of interest in acting for a peace at all cost.15 7

Martin Bayer, “Der Erste Weltkrieg in der internationalen Erinnerung”, ApuZ 64, no. 16–17 (2014), 47. 8 Ibid. 9 John F. Piper, Jr., “The American Churches in World War I”, Journal of the American Academy of Religion 38, no. 2 (1970), 147. 10 Eric Hobsbawm, The Age of Extremes, 1914–1991 (London: Abacus, 2011). 11 On the perception and the impact of the Russian Revolutions during this “age of extremes see: Frank Jacob and Riccardo Altieri, eds. Die Wahrnehmung der Russischen Revolutionen 1917: Zwischen utopischen Träumen und erschütterter Ablehnung (Berlin: Metropol, 2018). 12 Piper, “The American Churches in World War I”, 147. 13 Ibid. 14 Gerd Krumeich, “Vorstellungen vom Krieg vor 1914 und der Beginn des Großen Krieges”, ApuZ 64, no. 16–17 (2014), 8. 15 For the conclusions of the French historian see: Jules Isaac, Un débat historique: 1914, le problème des origines de la Guerre (Paris: Rieder, 1933). For a survey of the continuing debate see: Annika Mombauer, “Julikrise und Kriegsschuld – Thesen und Stand der For­ schung”, ApuZ 64, no. 16–17 (2014), 10–16.

Introduction

3

What historians since agreed upon is that “this war set the pace for the most murderous century in human history, and that it continues to matter”,16 and that is true, it should be added, regardless of any centennial or further jubilees. It is hoped that research about the First World War does not lose its intensity just because another centennial will be coming in the future. For years the events between 1914 and 1918 remained overshadowed by the Sec­ ond World War, to which it supposedly inevtiably led.17 However, it was never inevitable,18 especially not for those who did not know the future and the fact that pacifists and anti-war-activists were trying to protest against the imperial­ ist course of history. Jean Jaurès (1859–1914) in France, Kurt Eisner (1867–1919) in Germany, or Emma Goldman (1869–1940) and Eugene V. Debs (1855–1926) in the United States are just a few examples19 showing that alternatives ex­ isted as long as people were willing to believe in and stand up for them. How­ ever, the early warning of the German socialist August Bebel (1840–1913), who hadannounced in 1911, that the “twilight of the bourgeois world”20 was near, seems to be even more accurate in retrospective. Regardless of such warnings, the war came, but it was different from the imaginations and visions people and especially the military planners had about it.21 Particularly the German military planners had not drawn the right conclusions from the wars before the Great War;22 especially the Russo-Japanese War (1904/05) was misinter­ preted in the sense, that it was interpreted assuring the power of the offensive attack over defense.23 What the military strategists did not consider was that 16 17 18 19

20 21

22 23

Belinda Davis, “Experience, Identity, and Memory: The Legacy of World War I”, The Journal of Modern History 75, no. 1 (2003), 112. Ibid., 111. Richard Ned Lebow, “Learning from Contingency: The Case of World War I”, International Journal 63, no. 2 (2008): Russian Resurgence, 450–451. Adam Hochschild, Der Große Krieg: Der Untergang des alten Europa im Erszem Weltkrieg 1914–1918 (Frankfurt am Main et al.: Büchergilde Gutenberg, 2013), 14, emphasized that people like the ones mentioned were usually sent to jail, where a large number od those, who stood up for peace would end up during the war years. August Bebel, “Rede im Deutschen Reichstag”, November 1911, cited in Krumeich, “Vorstel­ lungen vom Krieg”, 5. Jost Dülffer, “Kriegserwartung und Kriegsbild in Deutschland vor 1914”, in Der Erste Weltkrieg: Wirkung, Wahrnehmung, Analyse, ed. Wolfgang Michalka (Munich: Piper, 1994), 778–798; Stig Förster, ed. Vor dem Sprung ins Dunkle: Die militärische Debatte über den Krieg der Zukunft (Paderborn: Schöningh, 2016). Dominik Geppert, William Mulligan, and Andreas Rose, eds. The Wars before the Great War: Conflict and International Politics before the Outbreak of the First World War (Cam­ bridge: Cambridge University Press, 2015). For the German misconceptions related to the Russo-Japanese War see: Frank Jacob, The Russo-Japanese War and Its Shaping of the Twentieth Century (New York: Routledge, 2018), 114–144.

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“war, like all human actions and facilities, is viable and tends to outgrow itself and to take qualitatively new traits”.24 Those who tried to describe the realities of the future war claimed that it would remain controllable and a fast victory possible, the latter being considered essential to win the war – particularly for Germany.25 Regardless of such wishful thinking, the war, as German military historian Sönke Neitzel emphasized, “established a new quality and quan­ tity of battle”26 that would determine the real experience of the First World War. This experience in countless cases led to the death of the soldiers who might have begun their service as enthusiastic volunteersor just men who beleived they were defending their home countries. This is why one of the impacts of the war that continues until today, as American historian Belinda Davis correctly phrased it, “has to be understood through mourning, memory, and memorialization”.27 The discourse about these issues already began during the war, and is discussed until today, especially since the “war was received and remembered in radically different ways, even by the same people: as tragic, heroic, the source of intense national pride and of insuperable familial grief”.28 The large number of deaths also “spurred such varying immediate responses as guilt, indebtedness, denial, cynicism, and insanity”29 and therefore had not only an impact on the battlefield, but also within the societies from which the dead soldiers originated. Eventually, the war was brought back home, and it is important to understand, that the First World War is considered “total”,

24 25 26 27

28

29

Krumeich, “Vorstellungen vom Krieg vor 1914”, 3. Ibid., 4. Sönke Neitzel, “Der historische Ort des Ersten Weltkrieges in der Gewaltgeschichte des 20. Jahrhunderts”, ApuZ 64, no. 16–17 (2014), 22. Davis, “Experience, Identity, and Memory”, 127. The French historians Stéphane AudoinRouzeau and Annette Becker even described this impact as an “infinite mourning”. Sté­ phane Audoin-Rouzeau and Annette Becker,14–18, Retrouver la guerre (Paris: Gallimard, 2000), 17, cited in ibid. Davis, “Experience, Identity, and Memory”, 115. For a more detailed discussion of the Brit­ ish case see: Alex King, Memorials of the Great War in Britain: The Symbolism and Politics of Remembrance (London: Bloomsbury, 1998). On the memorization of war see, among others: Reinhard Koselleck and Michael Jeismann, eds. Der politische Totenkult: Kriegerdenkmäler in der Moderne (Munich: Fink, 1994); Jay Winter and Emmanuel Sivan, eds., War and Remembrance in the Twentieth Century (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999). On the issue of war memorials see the forthcoming titles in the present series: Frank Jacob and Kenneth Pearl, eds. War and Memorials, 2 vols. (Paderborn: Schöningh, 2018). Davis, “Experience, Identity, and Memory”, 128. Since monuments were built everywhere, the war became a steady factor in everyday lives.

Introduction

5

b­ ecause it did not only trigger a “kaleidoscope of experiences on the home front”,30 but the boundaries between front and home were totally erased. The impact of the war was so tremendous that it changed whole societies, of participating as well as non-participating nation states alike, and a few exam­ ples should suffice to document this fact. Considered a human sin against life itself, it is not surprising that the churches in the United States went through a “notable decrease in their influence”, because they and their representatives “failed to lift the imperatives of the Christian faith before the people of the warring nation, and therefore failed to act responsibly in terms of their com­ mitment to the Gospel”.31 Witnessing so many deaths and such a level of de­ struction was enough for many, to question their faith in God and humanity. Yet it was not only spiritual or religious lives that were challenged or changed. Daily life and routineswere also changed by the war. The brochure “Dry Land Pintos: A New Western Wartime Crop”, circulated by the Land and Industrial Department of Chicago, Illinois in 1917 and 1918, informed its readers that they should “Eat More Pintos” to “Save More Meat”. It continued to explain: “Pintos are an excellent crop from the grower’s standpoint. They are just as good from the consumer’s standpoint. At this time of need for great food production and conservation of meat products, all should cooperate”.32 Such admonition was an unknown precursor of exhortations of the Second World War. The cooperation demands were also addressed to women, for whom the First World War presented a chance for social advancement and more gender equality, culminating in women’s suffrage in many countries. US feminist Mary Hunter Austin (1868–1934) called the war “an exhibition of masculinity run amuck”,33 which might be particularly true for its initial period. Instead, the battlefield experience eventually provoked a “crisis of masculinity”,34 in which the romantic ideas of war heroism were replaced by the harsh realities of ex­ ploding bodies and an everyday experience that was determined by weather and carnage. The experience of war, stimulated by military propaganda, on 30 31 32

33 34

Ibid., 115. Piper, “The American Churches in World War I”, 147–148. “Dry Land Pintos: A New Western Wartime Crop”, Hudson Maxim Papers, Manuscripts and Archives Division, The New York Public Library, Astor, Lenox, and Tilden Founda­ tions, Box 13, Correspondence Relating to Food , 1917–18 (A-Z). For a more detailed analy­ sis of the change of American foodways during wartime see: Kellen Backer, “Food and American Wars”, in The Routledge History of American Foodways, eds. Michael D. Wise and Jennifer Jensen Wallach (New York: Routledge, 2016), 326–335. Cited in David Kennedy, Over Here: American Society and World War I (New York: Oxford University Press, 1980), 224. Jason Crouthamel, “Deutsche Soldaten und ‚Männlichkeit‘ im Ersten Weltkrieg”, ApuZ 64, no. 16–17 (2014), 39.

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the one hand strenghtened dominant ideals of manhood, such as the “strong man”, yet traditional and idealized norms of masculinity were also questioned by those who suffered from the war experience.35 In the meantime, women also redefined gender norms on the home front, where the First World War opened chances for “professional assimilation”.36 Furthermore, women played an important role for the social stability during the war. One example of such a service is the efforts of Young Women’s Christian Association (YWCA), whose members ran hostess houses to provide a possibility for family members to visit recruited soldiers, who were very often separated from home by long distances.37 Additionally, the First World War also stimulated discussions about the fu­ ture of American society per se. American publicist Randolph Bourne (1886– 1918) wrote: “Watching the first columns of German reservists parade down Berlin's tree-lined Unter den Linden and Friedrichstrasse, … rued how rapidly the fever for war had eroded civility and cultural tolerance. Seeing an entire nation galvanizing itself for combat shattered his illusions”.38 Bourne would advocate for a form of transnationalism that would demand an extension of US trade relations abroad, while keeping the political contacts as limited as possible, which means a form of what would need to be called “isolationist transnationalism”.39 While such an approach seemed impossible, as the histor­ ical realities of the following decades would begin to prove, a condemnation of the war effort per se seemed politically unwise as well. The Socialist Party in the US isolated itself during the First World War, as it criticized the conflict as “a capitalist adventure rather than a war for democracy”.40 Regardless of pro­ tests against unemployment in the larger cities, organized by the party and the International Workers of the World (I.W.W.), critics of the war were seen as en­ emy’s of American democracy.41 Public opinion demanded support against the 35 36 37 38 39 40 41

Ibid., 40 and 45. In more detail: Jason Crouthamel, An Intimate History of the Front: Masculinity, Sexuality, and German Soldiers in the First World War (New York: Palgrave, 2014). Ellen S. More, “‘A Certain Restless Ambition’: Women Physicians and World War I”, American Quarterly 41, no. 4 (1989), 637. Cynthia Brandimarte, “Women on the Home Front Hostess Houses during World War I”, Winterthur Portfolio 42, no. 4 (2008), 201–222. Christopher McKnight Nichols, “Rethinking Randolph Bourne’s Trans-National America: How World War I Created an Isolationist Antiwar Pluralism”, The Journal of the Gilded Age and Progressive Era 8, no. 2 (2009), 218. Ibid., 220. Sally M. Miller, “Socialist Party Decline and World War I: Bibliography and Interpretation”, Science & Society 34, no. 4 (1970): American Radical History, 406. Isidore Wisotsky Autobiographical Typescript, TAM.071, Tamiment Library and Robert F. Wagner Labor Archives, New York University, 102–107.

Introduction

7

threat to US society, and the government, fearing a spread of the Russian Revo­ lution and its ideas, used the opportunity to get rid of political obstructionists during the anti-left Palmer Raids between 1918 and 1921.42 Those opposed to the war effort were easily accused during the war as they were considered to favor the enemy rather than peace. It is therefore not surprising that many scientists and intellectuals, who un­ til the early 20th century had worked hard to reach a global idea of science and transnational networks,43 answered the national call with “a rush to the colours in which [particularly] many young scientists and, one must assume, even more potential young scientists joined”.44 German historian Wolfgang J. Mommsen (1930–2004) stressed that especially intellectuals across Europe supported the war by emphasizing nationalist values and the need for hero­ ism.45 Writers and artists, if not openly supporting the war, often remained si­ lenct, while the accusation in propaganda often related to the “German huns”, declaring that culture was being sacrificed on the altar of war.46 In practice, the cooperation of artists and intellectuals could be expressed differently and even create strange bedfellows. Because German submarines and their attacks intially sank many British ships every week the US Navy asked the artists Everett L. Warner (1877–1963) and Frederick Waugh (1861–1940) to work on possible camouflage techniques, leading to the development of dazzle 42 43 44 45 46

On the “Red Scare” and the Palmer Raids: Robert K. Murray, Red Scare: A Study in National Hysteria, 1919–1920 (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1955). Marwa Elshakry, “When Science Became Western: Historiographical Reflections”, Isis 101, no. 1 (2010), 104. D. S. L. Cardwell, “Science and World War I”, Proceedings of the Royal Society of London, Series A, Mathematical and Physical Sciences 342, no. 1631 (1975), 449. Wolfgang J. Mommsen, “German Artists, Writers and Intellectuals and the Meaning of War, 1914–1918”, in State, Society and Mobilization in Europe durinf the First World War, ed. John Horne (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997), 21–38. Several works have dealt with the interrelation of the First World War and art, literature, science, and culture more general. For some of them see: Richard Cork, A Bitter Truth: Avant Garde and the Great War (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1994); Robert Coz­ zolino, Anne Classen Knutson, and David M. Lubin, eds. World War I and American Art (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2016); Andrew D. Evans, Anthropology at War: World War I and the Science of Race in Germany (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2010); Wolfgang J. Mommsen and Elisabeth Müller-Lückner, Kultur und Krieg: Die Rolle der Intellektuellen, Künstler und Schriftsteller im Ersten Weltkrieg (Munich: Oldenbourg, 1996); Wolfgang Natter, Literature at War, 1914–1940: Representing the “Time of Greatness” in Germany (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1999); James Pearl, ed. Picture This: World War I Posters and Visual Culture (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2010); Clé­ mentine Tholas Disset and Karen A. Ritzenhoff, eds. Humor, Entertainment, and Popular Culture during World War I (New York: Palgrave, 2015).

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painting. Earlier in the war, this painting first gained prominence in Great Brit­ ain through the efforts of John Graham Kerr (1869–1957) and especially Norman Wilkinson (1878–1971),47 Other fields of public life that depended on art, such as the US advertisement industry, were also influenced by the war, because “wartime conditions affected marketing conditions, the industry’s structure, and advertising’s relations with government and the public”.48 The government in Washington, D.C. also was aware of the new dimension of the war and the support it would need from the American society as a whole, believing visual arts should be instrumentalized to prepare the US public for the war that was ahead of them.49 Consequently, President Woodrow Wilson (1856–1924), one week after the Congress sanctioned the declaration of war against Germany in April 1917, by Executive Order No. 2594, established the Committee on Pub­ lic Information (CPI) in order to stimulate patriotism throughout the country. Because the advertising industry and the teaching in public schools were subjected to the new committee, it was actively using “adventure tropes from American popular culture to romanticize the war in advertising images and school lessons”.50 Journalist George Creel (1876–1953) was made the commit­ tee’s director and, in cooperation with artists and other intellectuals, was sup­ posed to design propaganda, that would give subliminalmessages for school children and the general public. David Snedden (1868–1951), who was one of the most best-known educators of the Progressive Era, had only harsh words for these procedures that sought to have art function as a popular “sedative”.51 Wilson, however, influenced by one of his advisers, writer and journalist Wal­ ter Lippmann (1889–1974), continued his course. Lippmann was sure that pub­ lic opinion had to be understood as pictures of the mind and the government would have to teach the common person through images they could not see for themselves.52 The advertising industry would deliver the tools for the immense propaganda campaign, while the schools represented one of the first targets for the delivery of the results. To make sure that the curricula at the public 47 48 49 50 51 52

Roy R. Behrens, “The Role of Artists in Ship Camouflage during World War I”, Leonardo 32, no. 1 (1999), 53–54. See also James Taylor, Dazzle: Disguise and Disruption in War and Art (Annapolis, MD: Naval Institute Press, 2016). Daniel Pope, “The Advertising Industry and World War I”, The Public Historian 2, no. 3 (1980), 5. Also see: Frank Presbrey, The History and Development of Advertising (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1929), 565. Eric Van Schaack, “The Division of Pictorial Publicity in World War I”, Design Issues 22, no. 1 (2006), 32. Clayton Funk, “Popular Culture, Art Education, and the Committee on Public Informa­ tion During WorldWar I, 1915–1919”, Visual Arts Research 37, no. 1 (2011), 67. Cited in ibid., 68. Walter Lippmann, Public Opinion (New York: Free Press, 1922), 18.

Introduction

9

schools would follow the propaganda needs of the government, Creel also formed the Division of Civic and Educational Cooperation (DCEC). During the war, this division would poduce more than 100 publications, reaching a cir­ culation that covered roughly 75% of the American population at this time.53 It is interesting to note, that the director and some of the staff of the DCEC were historians. Director Guy Stanton Ford (1873–1962), professor of German History54 at the University of Minnesota, was assisted by Samuel B. Harding, history professor at Indiana University.55 The division prepared materials for teachers who were supposed to “present the war to children as adventure by turning war-related lessons into play and drama, which gave it a real sense of winning and losing”.56 The DCEC also recommened art works, poems, and mu­ sic that were supposed to stimulate interest in the war in Europe. One of the most successful divisions of the CPI, however, was the Division of Pictorial Publicity (DPP). Posters were supposed to have a tremendous ef­ fect on US public opinion towards the war. The DPP was led by Charles Dana Gibson (1867–1944), the current president of the American Society of Illustra­ tors, an organization that existed since 1901 and was supposed to promote any form of illustrative art.57 During the following months, many artists were re­ cruited, among them Frederick G. Cooper (1883–1961), Charles Buckles Falls (1874–1960), Louis Fancher (1844–1944), Henry Reuterdahl (1871–1925), R ­ obert J. Wildhack; (1881–1940), and Charles David Williams (1875 1954).58 They reached quite an output level in 1917/18: “submitted seven hundred designs for post­ ers, one hundred and twenty-two for cards, three hundred and ten pieces of newspaper advertising, two hundred and eighty-seven cartoons, and nineteen designs for seals and buttons: a total of 1,438 designs created by 318 artists”.59 Many of them are still well-known today and left a steady impression with re­ gard to war-related stereotypes of patriotism. Like the illustrators and painters, movie regisseurs and cameramen used their skills to create narrative structures that rather used fictional motifs than real descriptions of the war, regardless of the fact that war became a central topic. Although they presented something unreal, they would be presented as “authentic documents” of current events, especially since the topic of the 53 54

Funk, “Popular Culture”, 71. Ford’s doctoral thesis (Columbia University, 1903) was titled Hanover and Prussia, 1795– 1803: A Study in Neutrality. 55 Harding worked broadly, e.g. on medieval, but also American history. 56 Funk, “Popular Culture”, 72. 57 Schaack, “The Division of Pictorial Publicity in World War I”, 33. 58 Ibid. 59 Ibid., 45.

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­ orld war dominated the plot.60 The individual had to prove its worth within w the all consuming reality of the war, which in the films was a constructed one,61 regardless of whether people were actually fighting at the front or simply sup­ porting the troops from home. The message was easy: Everybody was part of and essential for the war effort. Next to the visual and performative artists were the writers who were called to the pen by the events since June 1914. The First World War marked a wa­ tershed in many national literatures.62 The diverse works of famous novelists, such as Joseph Conrad (1857–1924), gained importance during the war, as Ced­ ric Watts emphasized with regard to multiple levels: One way was retrospective: some of his earlier writings could now be seen as tellingly prophetic. Another way was that it strengthened his pre­ occupation with Poland, his native land. A third way was that Conrad wrote a variety of tributes to those servicemen who, in their various ac­ tivities, bravely served the war. Probably the dominant effect was the ac­ celetation of Conrad's evolution from the writer of searchingly sceptical texts to a writer who, at some cost to his best talents, chose to emphasise the morally affirmative and patriotically traditional.63 English war literature in general, but especially many of the novels that were published in the later 1920s, “was characterized by a feeling of disillusionment, hopelessness, and even despair”.64 The literature of the First World War, however, was also full of emtionally driven juxtaposition of the what was viewed as the pure self and the barbarous enemy. The Germans were, for example in French literature during the war and even in the 1920s, described as the “Huns” who had given up their cultural heritage to wage war against all of Europe and the world.65 After the war, how­ ever, one focused on the description of nationaist feelings, and overemphasis 60 61 62 63 64 65

Bernd Kleinhans, “Der Erste Weltkrieg als Medienkrieg: Film und Propaganda zwischen 1914 und 1918”, ApuZ 64, no. 16–17 (2014), 37. Ibid., 38. For Englich literature see: Bernard Bergonzi, Heroes’ Twilight: A Study of the Literature of the Great War (London: Constable, 1965). Cedric Watts, “Joseph Conrad and World War I”, Critical Survey 2, no. 2 (1990): Writing and the First World War, 203. David Lundberg, “The American Literature of War: The Civil War, World War I, and World War II”, American Quarterly 36, no. 3 (1984), 377. Ann-Louise Shapiro, “Fixing History: Narratives of World War I in France”, History and Theory 36, no. 4 (1997): Producing the Past: Making Histories Inside and Outside the Academy, 116.

Introduction

11

of the heroic in a war that was fought for just reasons, i.e. bellum iustum, a nar­ rative that was also needed to strengthen or re-establish a destroyed French national identity.66 Ann-Louise Shapiro characterizes this task of the interwar years even more detailed for the official literature every young French girl or boy had to read in their schoolbooks: The war had initiated a project of fixing history. The challenge for school­ books was to preserve national understandings of eternal France, artic­ ulated through appropriate moral and civic lessons, while suppressing what had come to be seen as unacceptable bravado, dangerous national­ ist rhetoric. More typical than expressly pacifist sentiments were efforts to purge the most bellicose texts of their provocative language and their most inflammatory interpretations. What this meant especially was a ­reexamination of the motives attributed to Germany in the prewar de­ cades, a rewriting of the language on the causes of the war, careful re­ wording of the account of the German invasion of Belgium, deletion of the most graphic and colorful accusations of German barbarism, and a more restrained narration of the victory.67 However, it was not only in France that the war created a kind of “dividing line between the literary generations”.68 The war had changed the interests of the readers and the postwar authors needed to address different subjects to find an audience for their voices and works. With the political and social changes of any major in US history – Civil War, World War I, World War II – literature had to reinvent itself to address these changes appropriately.69 The US literature related to the First World War is especially important, as it in future years and wars stimulated written attempts to respond to the challenges of any American-related conflict.70 Even though the United States entered the war rather late, it was clear very soon that this war was different than all the ones in the past. It was no longer the human being alone who was able to make a difference. This war was dominated by machines, and decid­ ed in part by natural and economic resources. A soldieralone was not able to achieve anything, he could not even cross the no-man’s-land alone without be­ ing shot. It was the artillery, machine guns, tanks, and airplanes that eventually 66 67 68

Ibid., 116–117. Ibid., 119. Charles A. Fenton, “A Literary Fracture of World War I”, American Quarterly 12, no. 2–1 (1960), 119. 69 Lundberg, “The American Literature of War”, 373. 70 Ibid.

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dominated the war, created by humans to end something they had ironically forced to come into existence. The trenches of Belgium and France, the disas­ ter of Gallipoli, everything seemed so far away from the ordinary American. Of course, people would read about the war, but the events reporters wrote about seemingly almost happened in a different world. In addition, those writings had been censored by French and British authorities beforeand thus most of what US reader would get was camouflaging the true and horrible nature of the trenches. Furthermore, the publications were supposed to stimulate sup­ port for the Allied cause. Due to these goals and preconditions the war, as Da­ vid Lundberg put it, “was described as a dirty, bloody affair, but also as a righ­ teous, noble undertaking that bestowed honor on those who fought for France and England. Soldiers on the Western Front benefited from the hardship of war. It purified them, strengthened their resolve to conquer the hated Hun”.71 Considering the lower numbers of American casualties in the later period of the war, its literary image could remain one of an honorable struggle for democracy. Though works such as John Dos Passos’s (1896–1970) One Man’s Initiation: 1917 (1920) and Three Soldiers (1921), E E. Cummings’s (1894–1962) The Enormous Room (1922), and Ernest Hemingway’s (1899–1961) In Our Times (1925) and A Farewell to Arms (1929) described the war as “impersonal, unhe­ roic, and brutal”72 they did not resemble a broad majority of the works that were widely read by the American public. It was not until the 1920s, that such a view, “previously confined to a small group of ‘disenchanted' writers and intel­ lectuals, began to gain wider public acceptance”.73 For a long time, the Ameri­ can soldiers, who under John J. Pershing’s (1860–1948) command, were sent to Europe, were considerd crusaders for liberty.74 Although the war was considered a step back to barbarism, many intellectu­ als embraced it. The New York Times claimed that the European Greatpowers “reverted to the condition of savage tribes roaming the forests and falling upon each other in a fury of blood and carnage to achieve the ambitious designs of chieftains clad in skins and drunk with mead. ... It is mediaeval, it is barbarous, it is horrible”.75 Nevertheless, especially younger intellectuals felt a demand to save Amercian culture from becoming mediocre and many of them hoped the war would “prove to be that magical catalyst to unite the country and endow 71 72 73 74 75

Ibid., 378. bid., 379. Ibid., 383. It is interesting to mention that a recently published work on the US soldiers and their role during World War I bears the same title: Richard Faulkner, Pershing’s Crusaders: The American Soldier in World War I (Lawrence: University of Kansas Press, 2017). New York Times, August 2, 1914, 14.

Introduction

13

it with new vigor and vitality”.76 Additionally, the First World War was seen by some intellectuals as a chance to spread American ideas across the globe, which eventually would also lead to a spread of the progressive ideas that were needed to secure peace in the future. Nevertheless, once the war was entered, even the intellectuals had to re-evaluate their positions as the realities were demanding that Americans be sent overseas to fight in a bloody conflict. Many of course defended the decision of the government, while others were fiercely opposed to an engagement in the European slaughterhouse.77 Among the sup­ porters for war were not only Walter Lippman, but also the famous American philosopher John Dewey (1859–1952). He led a “crescendo of patriotism which began in 1914, and increased most vehemently after April 1917”78 and supported the US entry into the war believing his country was forced to join the conflict regardless of the costs. The world needed the United States, which, according to Dewey, possesed “most valuable political and cultural model which the con­ temporary world offered”.79 Regardless of such claims, it was the philosopher’s own exaggerated patriotism, which, as expressed by Alan Cywar, “led him to overestimate the capacity of Americans to resist the malevolent psychological environment generated by war”.80 Regardless of the role of some leading intellectuals, whole universities transformed as a consequence of the First World War. The cover of the present volume shows a Student Army Training Corps (SATC) in front of State Hall, at the University of Pittsburgh during the First World War. A space where young minds were supposed to be formed for a peaceful future was transformed into a training ground for war. But that was not only a fact for the grounds, but also the lecture halls of many universities that were emptied of their students and filled with soldiers. Even small liberal arts colleges, such as the Method­ ist-affiliated Hamline University in St. Paul, Minnesota would dramatically change during the war, having 400 students join an ambulance company that was eventually sent to serve on the Western Front.81 At Hamline University, 76 77 78 79 80 81

George H. Knoles, “American Intellectuals and World War I”, The Pacific Northwest Quarterly 59, no. 4 (1968), 205. For a European perspective, see also Roland N. Stromberg, Redemption by War: The Intellectuals and 1914 (Lawrence: University of Kansas Press, 1982). L. Moody Simms, Jr., “World War I and the American Intellectual”, Social Science 45, no. 3 (1970), 157. Alan Cywar, “John Dewey in World War I: Patriotism and International Progressivism”, American Quarterly 21, no. 3 (1969), 579. Ibid., 585. Ibid., 589. Jack K. Johnson, “‘Our United Effort’: Hamline University’s World War I Ambulance Com­ pany”, Minnesota History 64, no. 8 (2015/2016), 320.

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Gregory Walcott, professor of philosophy, in March 1917 “stood up and called for volunteers to inaugurate military training”;82 his colleague Louis Herrick, who taught Romance languages, went even further and as “adjutant for the Intercollegiate Intelligence Bureau, a nationwide higher-education initiative organized to match skilled alumni, students, and faculty with positions in mili­ tary and government service”.83 These cases show that even a small campus in Minnesota could not escape the magentic power of the war, which drew so many splendid minds and young careers into the chaos that had drained Eu­ rope of life for three years: “Hamline’s president Samuel F. Kerfoot, reported at the end of the school year that nearly half the men at Hamline had enlisted in some form of military service, as did ten percent of the faculty”.84 The First World War, without doubt, changed the humanities as they were represented at universities as well through works of art or music. This was done not only by invovling the creative men and women in the war, but by changing their minds, their way of thinking, eventually the way they encoun­ tered and portrayed the humanities. We are aware that the field of “humani­ ties” is extremely broad and diverse, and so too isculture. The present volume is therefore understood as a catalyst for further research by pointing in some very valuable directions to engage with the cultural impact the First World War on the humanities. We hope that it will stimulate further research, especially from comparative perspectives and present some intriguing works that deal with topics that are worthy of being taken into consideration as part of broader research related to the First World War. The Contributions How the First World War was perceived by intellectuals in Eastern Europe is discussed by Maciej Górny, whose chapter provides an insight into the cul­ tural developments of the Eastern European intelligentsia, whose members answered the “call to pens” with their nationalist interpretations of the events since 1914. He shows how the war transformed the region, as well as interpre­ tations of it. That the war also had an impact on the way the foreign “other” was studied at universities, is shown by Andreas Golob who will discuss how foreign language studies changed at the University of Graz (Austria-Hungary) during the war. He provides a micro- perspective of the cultural responses to the war and helps readersgain critical insight into the development of aca­ demic curricula during the war years. The way history was perceived had been 82 Ibid. 83 Ibid., 321. 84 Ibid.

Introduction

15

changed during and in the aftermath of the events of the “seminal catastrophe” is analyzed in detail for neutral Switzerland by Marcel Berni, who presents a close reading of 100 years of Swiss historiography in relation to the First World War. The remaining chapters focus on North America. Allison Lynn Wanger high­ lights the US discussion about the construction and design of war cemetaries and how the National Cemetary System formulated new nationalist aesthetics. Politicians and representatives of the arts subsequently worked together and find an answer to the questions that the death of so many had raised with re­ spect to the best possible way of memorization. That not only visual aesthetics had been transformed by the war is shown by Michael J. Pfeifer, whose chap­ ter discusses the history of the Minneapolis Symphony during the First World War. He shows that the war even dominated the concert hall, where music had to address the current war needs and nationalist feelings. The same can be concluded for the theater stage as well, as Lindsay Thistle argues to be the case for the Canadian theater. On the Candian stage plays related to the First World War were essential in creating and strengthening Canada’s national identity. As emphasized before, the present chapters provide only a small outlook into valuable approaches towards the cultural impact of the First World War on the humanities. The editors hope that they will stimulate further research dealing with the interrelationship of war and culture in general, as well as the First World War and the humanities in particular.

Works Cited

Unpublished Archive Materials Hudson Maxim Papers, Manuscripts and Archives Division, The New York Public Library, Astor, Lenox, and Tilden Foundations. Isidore Wisotsky Autobiographical Typescript, TAM.071, Tamiment Library and Robert F. Wagner Labor Archives, New York University.

Published Works

Audoin-Rouzeau, Stéphane and Annette Becker. 14–18, Retrouver la guerre. Paris: Gal­ limard, 2000. Angelow, Jürgen. Der Weg in die Urkatastrophe: Der Zerfall des alten Europa 1900–1914. Berlin: bebra, 2010. Backer, Kellen. “Food and American Wars”. In: The Routledge History of American Foodways, eds. Michael D. Wise and Jennifer Jensen Wallach, 326–335. New York: Rout­ ledge, 2016.

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Bayer, Martin. “Der Erste Weltkrieg in der internationalen Erinnerung”. ApuZ 64, no. 16–17 (2014): 47–53. Behrens, Roy R. “The Role of Artists in Ship Camouflage during World War I”. Leonardo 32, no. 1 (1999): 53–59. Bergonzi, Bernard. Heroes’ Twilight: A Study of the Literature of the Great War. London: Constable, 1965. Brandimarte, Cynthia. “Women on the Home Front Hostess Houses during World War I”. Winterthur Portfolio 42, no. 4 (2008): 201–222. Cardwell, D. S. L. “Science and World War I”. Proceedings of the Royal Society of London, Series A, Mathematical and Physical Sciences 342, no. 1631 (1975): 447–456. Clark, Christopher. Sleepwalkers: How Europe Went to War in 1914. London: Penguin, 2013. Cork, Richard. A Bitter Truth: Avant Garde and the Great War. New Haven, CT: Yale Uni­ versity Press, 1994. Cozzolino, Robert, Anne Classen Knutson, and David M. Lubin, eds. World War I and American Art. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2016. Crouthamel, Jason. An Intimate History of the Front: Masculinity, Sexuality, and German Soldiers in the First World War. New York: Palgrave, 2014. Cozzolino, Robert, Anne Classen Knutson, and M. David Lubin. “Deutsche Soldaten und ‘Männlichkeit‘ im Ersten Weltkrieg”. ApuZ 64, no. 16–17 (2014): 39–45. Cywar, Alan. “John Dewey in World War I: Patriotism and International Progressivism”. American Quarterly 21, no. 3 (1969): 578–594. Davis, Belinda. “Experience, Identity, and Memory: The Legacy of World War I”. The Journal of Modern History 75, no. 1 (2003): 111–131. Dülffer, Jost. “Kriegserwartung und Kriegsbild in Deutschland vor 1914”. In: Der Erste Weltkrieg: Wirkung, Wahrnehmung, Analyse, ed. Wolfgang Michalka, 778–798. Mu­ nich: Piper, 1994. Elshakry, Marwa. “When Science Became Western: Historiographical Reflections”. Isis 101, no. 1 (2010): 98–109. Evans, Andrew D. Anthropology at War: World War I and the Science of Race in Germany. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2010. Faulkner, Richard. Pershing’s Crusaders: The American Soldier in World War I. Law­ rence: University of Kansas Press, 2017. Fenton, Charles A. “A Literary Fracture of World War I”. American Quarterly 12, no. 2–1 (1960): 119–132. Funk, Clayton. “Popular Culture, Art Education, and the Committee on Public Information During WorldWar I, 1915–1919”. Visual Arts Research 37, no. 1 (2011): 67–78. Geppert, Dominik, William Mulligan, and Andreas Rose, eds. The Wars before the Great War: Conflict and International Politics before the Outbreak of the First World War. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2015.

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Helmrath, Johannes. “Das Reich: 962 – 1356 – 1806. Zusammenfassende Überlegun­ gen zur Tagung ‘Die Goldene Bulle’”. In: Die Goldene Bulle: Politik – Wahrnehmung – Rezension, vol. 2, eds. Ulrike Hohensee et al., 1137–1151. Berlin: Akademie Verlag, 2009. Hobsbawm, Eric. The Age of Extremes, 1914–1991. London: Abacus, 2011. Hochschild, Adam. Der Große Krieg: Der Untergang des alten Europa im Erszem Weltkrieg 1914–1918. Frankfurt am Main et al.: Büchergilde Gutenberg, 2013. Isaac, Jules. Un débat historique: 1914, le problème des origines de la Guerre. Paris: Rieder, 1933. Jacob, Frank and Riccardo Altieri. “Einleitung: Der Erste Weltkrieg, Geschichtsrevi­ sionismus und der ‘Sündenfall’ der deutschen Sozialdemokratie”. In: Krieg und Frieden im Spiegel des Sozialismus, 1914–1918, eds. idem (Berlin: Metropol, 2018), forthcoming. Jacob, Frank and Riccardo Altieri, eds. Die Wahrnehmung der Russischen Revolutionen 1917: Zwischen utopischen Träumen und erschütterter Ablehnung (Berlin: Metropol, 2018). Jacob, Frank and Riccardo Altieri The Russo-Japanese War and Its Shaping of the Twentieth Century. New York: Routledge, 2018. Jacob, Frank and Kenneth Pearl, eds. War and Memorials, 2 vols. Paderborn: Schöningh, 2018. Johnson, Jack K. “‘Our United Effort’: Hamline University’s World War I Ambulance Company”. Minnesota History 64, no. 8 (2015/2016): 320–329. Kennan, George F. The Decline of Bismarck’s European Order: Franco-Russian Relations, 1875–1890. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1979. Kennedy, David. Over Here: American Society and World War I. New York: Oxford Uni­ versity Press, 1980. King, Alex. Memorials of the Great War in Britain: The Symbolism and Politics of Remembrance. London: Bloomsbury, 1998. Kleinhans, Bernd. “Der Erste Weltkrieg als Medienkrieg: Film und Propaganda zwisch­ en 1914 und 1918”. ApuZ 64, no. 16–17 (2014): 32–38. Knoles, George H. “American Intellectuals and World War I”. The Pacific Northwest Quarterly 59, no. 4 (1968): 203–215. Koselleck, Reinhard and Michael Jeismann, eds. Der politische Totenkult: Kriegerdenkmäler in der Moderne. Munich: Fink, 1994. Krumeich, Gerd “Vorstellungen vom Krieg vor 1914 und der Beginn des Großen Krieg­ es”. ApuZ 64, no. 16–17 (2014): 3–8. Lebow, Richard Ned. “Learning from Contingency: The Case of World War I”. International Journal 63, no. 2 (2008): Russian Resurgence: 447–459. Lippmann, Walter. Public Opinion. New York: Free Press, 1922. Lundberg, David. “The American Literature of War: The Civil War, World War I, and World War II”. American Quarterly 36, no. 3 (1984): 373–388.

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McKnight, Nichols. Christopher. “Rethinking Randolph Bourne's Trans-National America: How World War I Created an Isolationist Antiwar Pluralism”. The Journal of the Gilded Age and Progressive Era 8, no. 2 (2009): 217–257. Miller, Sally M. “Socialist Party Decline and World War I: Bibliography and Interpreta­ tion”. Science & Society 34, no. 4 (1970): American Radical History: 398–411. Mombauer, Annika. “Julikrise und Kriegsschuld – Thesen und Stand der Forschung”. ApuZ 64, no. 16–17 (2014): 10–16. Mommsen, Wolfgang J. “German Artists, Writers and Intellectuals and the Meaning of War, 1914–1918”. In: State, Society and Mobilization in Europe durinf the First World War, ed. John Horne, 21–38. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997. Mommsen, Wolfgang J. and Elisabeth Müller-Lückner. Kultur und Krieg: Die Rolle der Intellektuellen, Künstler und Schriftsteller im Ersten Weltkrieg. Munich: Oldenbourg, 1996. More, Ellen S. “‘A Certain Restless Ambition’: Women Physicians and World War I”. American Quarterly 41, no. 4 (1989): 636–660. Murray, Robert K. Red Scare: A Study in National Hysteria, 1919–1920. Minneapolis: Uni­ versity of Minnesota Press, 1955. Natter, Wolfgang. Literature at War, 1914–1940: Representing the “Time of Greatness” in Germany. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1999. Neitzel, Sönke. “Der historische Ort des Ersten Weltkrieges in der Gewaltgeschichte des 20. Jahrhunderts”. ApuZ 64, no. 16–17 (2014): 17–23. Pearl, James, ed. Picture This: World War I Posters and Visual Culture. Lincoln: Univer­ sity of Nebraska Press, 2010. Piper, John F. Jr. “The American Churches in World War I”. Journal of the American Academy of Religion 38, no. 2 (1970): 147–155. Pope, Daniel. “The Advertising Industry and World War I”. The Public Historian 2, no. 3 (1980): 4–25. Presbrey, Frank. The History and Development of Advertising. Garden City, NY: Double­ day, 1929. Van Schaack, Eric. “The Division of Pictorial Publicity in World War I”. Design Issues 22, no. 1 (2006): 32–45. Shapiro, Ann-Louise. “Fixing History: Narratives of World War I in France”. History and Theory 36, no. 4 (1997): Producing the Past: Making Histories Inside and Outside the Academy: 111–130. Simms, L. Moody Jr. “World War I and the American Intellectual”. Social Science 45, no. 3 (1970): 157–162. Stromberg, Roland N. Redemption by War: The Intellectuals and 1914. Lawrence: Univer­ sity of Kansas Press, 1982. Taylor, James. Dazzle: Disguise and Disruption in War and Art. Annapolis, MD: Naval Institute Press, 2016.

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Tholas, Disset, Clémentine and Karen A. Ritzenhoff, eds. Humor, Entertainment, and Popular Culture during World War I. New York: Palgrave, 2015. Watts, Cedric. “Joseph Conrad and World War I”. Critical Survey 2, no. 2 (1990): Writing and the First World War: 203–207. Weipert, Axel, Oberhaus Salvador, Nakath Detlef, and Bernd Hüttner. “Vorwort der Herausgeber”. In: “Maschine zur Brutalisierung der Welt?” Der Erste Weltkrieg – ­Deutungen und Haltungen 1914 bis heute, 7–11. Munster: Westfälisches Dampfboot, 2017. Winter, Jay and Emmanuel Sivan, eds., War and Remembrance in the Twentieth Century. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999.

“Every Nation Fights in the Name of Its Own Spirit”: The Intellectuals’ Great War in the East Maciej Górny The Great War cannot be said to have come as a complete surprise to the intellectual elites of Europe. Some indeed looked to it with hope. This attitude – regardless of the frustration it breeds among historians according to Wolfgang J. Mommsen – drastically hastened the spontaneous mobilization of the intellectual strata.1 On August 8, 1914, Henri Bergson (1859–1941) delivered the first of his speeches describing war as a clash between civilization (represented by France and England) and German barbarianism. On September 18 of the same year, The Times published an address by British scholars and writers, criticizing German culture for its supposedly aggressive character and penchant for self-admiration.2 A German response of a comparable caliber was not long in the waiting. In September 1914, 93 professors signed the Address to the World of Culture, overruling all charges of German militarism. Instead, authors of the Address invoked racist ideology, claiming that “Those who choose to ally themselves with Russians and Serbians, who embarrass themselves publicly by coaxing Mongolians and Negroes to make war against the white race, have the least right to pose as defenders of European civilization”.3 In October, three thousand German academics affixed their signatures to an even more radical Position of the Academic Teachers of the German Reich, indignantly rejecting any attempts at singling out “Prussian militarism” from German culture in general.4 This response, naturally, prompted further reactions. Understandably, historians devote most of their attention to statements made by the luminaries of science in the early months of the war. The stature of figures such as Émile Durkheim (1858–1917), Henri Bergson, Gerhart Hauptmann (1862–1946) or Thomas Mann (1875–1955) clearly is a decisive factor in 1 Wolfgang J. Mommsen, “Die europäischen Intellektuellen, Schriftsteller und Künstler und der Erste Weltkrieg”, in Bürgerliche Kultur und politische Ordnung. Künstler, Schriftsteller und Intellektuelle in der deutschen Geschichte 1830–1933, ed. Wolfgang J. Mommsen (Frankfurt am Main: Fischer, 2000), 196. 2 Ibid., 201. 3 Quoted from: Cordula Tollmien, “Der ‘Krieg der Geister’ in der Provinz – das Beispiel der Universität Göttingen 1914–1918”, Göttinger Jahrbuch 41 (1993), 173. 4 Ibid., 144.

© Verlag Ferdinand Schoningh, 2019 | doi:10.30965/9783506788245_003

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that regard.5 Indeed, these prominent figures established the approach and vocabulary later applied in hundreds of statements of intellectuals on all sides of the conflict. Each of the luminaries in question acted from an indirect inspiration of their national government. Government policies provided a framework for the future European “war of the spirits”, while also furnishing material for generalizations. Opinions on cultures and national character of the warring sides inevitably depended on available information about the war, which, in turn, were filtered through the dynamically developing apparatuses of propaganda and censorship. The warring states defined boundaries for intellectual reflection on the war in two distinct ways. First, due to government regulation, the publishing market turned to short works aimed at a broader readership. Prominent intellectuals were unofficially persuaded to address the war in their works and thus get involved in the national effort. In fact, many did not require additional encouragement. Second, many authors based their ruminations on war on material supplied by the media controlled by the national propaganda. The schematic view of reality imposed by propaganda affected the resulting works. Regardless of those conditions, it were the intellectuals – and not the politicians – who assumed the task of disseminating appropriate statements while retaining a limited creative autonomy. It would be wrong to identify “war of the spirits” with wartime propaganda. Both operated according to their own dynamics, and, though mutually inspiring, remained autonomous.6 The nature of these publications was perfectly captured by a Polish observer, Salomon Besser, who claimed: “Above all, in combat, each of the warring nations speaks only of its enemy, of his diametrically opposed spirit, and assumes him to be evil, naturally thinking itself good. Every nation fights in the name of its own spirit”.7 Not coincidentally, most works concerned with the national character of wartime enemies published in Russia, Germany, Austria-Hungary, France, and Great Britain saw print during the first two years of the conflict. They were a

5 Peter Sprengel, “‘Im Kriege erscheint Kultur als ein künstlicher Zustand’ Gerhart Hauptmann und der Erste Weltkrieg”, in Krieg der Geister. Erster Weltkrieg und literarische Moderne, ed. Uwe Schneider and Andreas Schumann (Würzburg: Königshausen&Neumann, 2000), 41–69. 6 Wolfgang Kruse, “Zur Erfahrungs- und Kulturgeschichte des Ersten Weltkriegs”, in Eine Welt von Feinden: Der Große Krieg 1914–1918, ed. Wolfgang Kruse (Frankfurt am Main: Fischer, 1997), 167. 7 Salomon Besser, Wojna europejska jako walka ducha. Szkic filozoficzny [The European War as a Struggle of Spirit: Philosophical Sketches] (Częstochowa: Drukarnia “Udziałowa”, 1915), 13–14.

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product of a wave of enthusiasm with which intellectuals welcomed the outbreak of the Great War in August 1914. After two years, however, the emotional engagement waned, as did the general interest in those issues. Societies of warring countries grew weary with the decisive victory capable of lifting spirits proving unattainable, and losses at the front – coupled with shortages at home – becoming increasingly cumbersome. Pacifism was rife.8 While “war of the spirits” in the West continued beyond that point, after two years, it also began to dissipate. The Eastern Front tells yet another story. War in the East owed its specificity not only to the spatial ramifications of the conflict, but also to its time-frame. Neither 1914, nor 1918 marked a clearcut caesura. The Balkans entered into a state of war already in 1912, not only engaging a few of the countries later involved in the Great War, but also European diplomats and public opinion in general. The situation then grew even more complex, as events such as the revolution and Bolshevist coup in Russia, auguring a prolonged and chaotic period of civil war, unfolded. The transition from military activity prior to German capitulation to that which took place already after the conclusion of the war was seamless. In these conditions, many phenomena captured perfectly between the dates 1914–1918 in the West, lasted much longer in the East and, as a result, yielded even more destructive results. On the other note, the viability of propaganda in the region was far lower than in the most developed countries of the West. Outside Bohemia and Bulgaria, a significant proportion – and sometimes even the majority – of peasants were illiterate second-class citizen.9 Mobilization of popular opinion and dissemination of major state policies typically occurred by way of the pulpit.10 Up until 1918, the region was by and large a recipient rather than a producer of wartime propaganda, for fairly obvious reasons. Though all of its nationalities furnished recruits for the warring armies, most did not have a nation-state to implement an independent information policy. While motifs developed by major powers for their own purposes were regurgitated and appropriated, the process never reached the same intensity on the margins as it did at the center.

8 Mommsen, Bürgerliche Kultur, 206. 9 Glenn E. Torvey, “Rumänien und die kriegführenden Mächte 1914–1916”, in Kriegsausbruch 1914 eds. Walter Laqueur, George L. Mosse (München: Nymphenburger Verlagshandlung, 1970), 224–240. 10 Jan Prokop, “‘Умepeшь зa Рoдинy‘: дyxoвeнcтвo и вoeннaя пpoпaгaндa”, [To Die for the Fatherland] in Пepвaя миpoвaя вoйнa в литepaтypaх и кyльтype зaпaдных и южных cлaвян [The First World War in Western and South Slavs’ Literatures and Culture], eds. Л.H. Бyдaгoвa et al. (Mocквa: Инcтитyт cлaвянoвeдeния Ран, 2004), 39–41.

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The beginnings were not regionally specific. Austrian propaganda applied the same patterns to publications in all languages of the Cisleithania. In Russia, stringent language policies meant that, outside of publications in Russian, only Polish titles appeared in numbers of any significance during the war. Just as in the West, most authors employed in magazines involved in a “war of the spirits” were intellectuals and men of culture. Unstable political situation sometimes placed the same authors in both warring camps. Such was the case with Wincenty Rzymowski (1883–1950), the later Minister of Foreign Affairs in the Provisional Government of National Unity in 1945. In 1915, Rzymowski published the pamphlet Podboje Rosji (Russia's Conquests) in the Prawda magazine (which he edited). The pamphlet described the internal consolidation of the empire in the face of the war: “Through flared nostrils, Russia draws in the scent of blood spilled by Vistula and San; with this scent, her lungs fill with a clear conviction for the great work of uniting all nationalities under its crown into a single, giant nation of all Russia”.11 When Germans occupied the Kingdom of Poland, Rzymowski was interned in a prisoner of war camp. A year later, following his release, he gave a lecture in the main hall of the Warsaw Technical Association, entitled “Germany and the Coalition”, in which he shared his camp experience, all the while copying the popular motifs of the German “war of the spirits”. Germany and its allies in Central Europe were faced by a “procession of countless tribes and peoples”, serving England often against their best wishes. According to Rzymowski, the British were characterized primarily by egotism and cold deviousness: “English patriotism depends on an extremely tightly measured exchange of services between citizen and the state. (…) In the eyes of the citizen, war is a business venture the state chose to invest in”.12 The French, on the other hand – again, much alike in the works of German intellectuals – were plagued by a desire for revenge. For its erstwhile eulogist, the “nation of all Russia” ended up on the worst side of the deal: “In a prisoner of war camp, the Russian is a born proletarian, pauper, by nature and habit given to offering himself a servant to any power and for any reward. (…) While the Frenchman consumes the abundant provisions and delicacies (…) the Muscovite stands behind his seat with that lowly bend in his neck, a timeless mark of congenital slavery”.13 German and Austro-Hungarian military achievements in Central and Eastern Europe tipped the balance decisively in favor of the proponents of the 11 12 13

Wincenty Rzymowski, Podboje Rosji [Russia’s Conquests] (Warszawa: Prawda, 1915), 9. Wincenty Rzymowski, Niemcy a koalicja [Germany and the Coalition] (Warszawa: Wende & S-ka, 1916), 8. Ibid., 13.

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Central Powers. Prior to these developments, however, the region (mostly Poland) saw the publication of translations of Western brochures and original works which critically reviewed primarily the German national character. Polish readers thus obtained access to a translation of Ernest Barker’s (1874–1960) typical characterological study, in which he identified Germanness with a cult of power and associated it with Heinrich von Treitschke (1834–1896) and Friedrich Nietzsche (1844–1900).14 The same motif recurred in works of native writers: Adam Szelągowski (1873–1961) likened contemporary Germany to a grim fulfilment of the concept of the “half-Slavic, half-Teutonic” philosopher.15 The nationalist interventions of German professors prompted outrage. Already after the evacuation of Russians from the Kingdom of Poland, economist Faustyn Rasiński (1859–?) hoped that Germans would come to their senses since “The followers of Leibnitz and Humboldt cannot lend their names to that famous address of latter-day ‘scholars.’”16 His colleague Jerzy Kurnatowski (1874– 1934) harbored no such hope; in his view, Germans possessed a mediaeval mentality, with their violence opposed to “the political world-view born of the spirit of the French Revolution”.17 The congenital German barbarianism, which also affected Hungarians, Bulgarians, and Turks, was noted by Romanian writer Ion Colfescu Delaturda, as well. The likeness between allies ran so deep that one could easily speak of a “Teutonic-Mongolian mentality”, which he opposed to “neo-Latin civilization”.18 This perspective, brought about by the exigencies of war, coagulated in post-war handbooks and historical studies into the image of a “Latin island” standing “straja civilizaţiei” (on the watch of civilization – MG) in the midst of a sea of barbarity.19 As far as Slavic authors were concerned, the latter role was most often assigned to a more or less conservative Pan-Slavic element. Thomas Čapek, an 14 15 16 17 18 19

Ernest Barker, Nietzsche and Treitschke. the Worship of Power in Modern Germany (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1914). Adam Szelągowski, Niemcy, Austrya i kwestya polska [Germany, Austria and the Polish Case] (Warszawa–Lublin–Łódź: Gebethner i Wolff, 1915), 22. Faustyn Rasiński, Polska etnograficzna [Ethnographic Poland] (Petrograd: Lesman, 1916), 359. Jerzy Kurnatowski, Przyczyny wojny europejskiej [The Causes of War in Europe] (Warszawa: Arct, 1915), 37. Ion C. Delaturda, Viaţa morala a popoarelor şi războiul european. Cauze şi efecte [The Moral Life of the Nations and the European War: Causes and Effects] (Bucureşti: Poporul, 1916), 3–4, 42–44. Sextil Puşcariu, “Locul limbii române intre limbile romanice”, [The Place of the Romanian Language among Romance Languages] in Academia Română. Discursuri de recepţiune 49 (1920); see also Vasile Pârvan, Dacia. An Outline of the Early Civilizations of the CarpathoDanubian Countries (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1928), 202.

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American Czech, offered a typical equation of the future collapse of “Germanism” with the rise of Slavic nations.20 The mass desertions of Czech soldiers from Austro-Hungarian army were attributed to a proper understanding of the interests of the Slavic community.21 In this respect, non-Russian writings published within the empire did not stray far from those published in ­Russia. Rasiński bemoaned the neglect prominent figures of Polish politics have shown for vital Polish and Slavic interests in Lusatia, Prussia, and Silesia over the course of several centuries for the sake of conquests in the East: “Rather than standing as a wall on the Western outskirts of the Slavic domain to defend it from Teutonic incursions and fostering native culture (…) Poland directed its still so meagre forces toward widespread expansion across the boundless woods and plains of the distant East”.22 The fate of the Polish Commonwealth was decided not only by this “fatal space”, but also by the betrayal of Poland’s national mission. War constituted an opportunity to right these wrongs in a spirit of Slavic federalism, a notion insistently promoted by Russian liberals.23 Yet, circumstances did not promote further development of pro-Russian thinking in Central and Eastern Europe. The entire region gradually fell under German or Austro-Hungarian occupation, which contributed massively to the extant ideological current of support for Central Powers. The latter’s most active representatives were predominantly Ukrainians and Poles who painted Russia as an Asiatic despotic state incapable of compromising with anyone, even while the drawn-out “Eastern blizzard slowly covered the characteristic strains of the Polish visage”.24 Stanisław Przybyszewski (1868–1927) expounded broadly on the difference between the Polish and Russian psychological type: “On the one hand, an astounding liveliness, endeavor, adaptability and near-rapacious possessiveness in the spiritual. (…) on the other, passivity, stone-like languor, Asiatic conservatism”.25 Dmytro Doncov (1883–1973), ideologist of Ukrainian integral nationalism, used almost identical terms to describe the characterological 20

Thomas Čapek, Bohemia under Hapsburg Misrule. A Study of the Ideals and Aspirations of the Bohemian and Slovak Peoples, as they Relate to and are Affected by the Great European War (New York–Chicago–Toronto: Revell, 1915), 12. 21 First Report of the Political, National and Philanthropic Work of the Czech (Bohemian) Colony in Great Britain from August 4, 1914 until 31 December, 1915, [no place]. 1916, 2. 22 Rasiński, Polska, 360. 23 See Eвpoпeйcкaя вoйнa кaкъ пpeдвecтникъ cлaвянcкoй фeдepaции [War in Europe as an Announcement of a Slavic Federation] (Mocквa: Люндopфъ, 1914), passim. 24 Bolesław Lutowski, “Odezwy rosyjskie i czyny rosyjskie”, [Russian Proclamations v Russian Deeds] in Tadeusz Grużewski, Ludwik Kulczycki, Bolesław Lutowski, Michał Łempicki, Zygmunt Makowiecki, Wobec przewrotu rosyjskiego (Warszawa: Jakowicki, 1917), 23. 25 Stanisław Przybyszewski, Szlakiem duszy polskiej [In Search for a Polish Soul], 2nd ed. (Poznań: Ostoja, 1920), 18.

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distinctions between Russians and Ukrainians: “On the one hand, activity of a society conscious of its rights, endowed with undaunted powers, on the other – listlessness, absence of a spirit of protest, Oriental, almost Asiatic humility ­toward all authority”.26 Both authors believed that Western civilization, imparted on Russia by Pyotr I, failed to take root, and that the country’s civilization is mere pretense. Franciszek (Franz) Kwilecki (1874–1937) coined the vivid term “moral section” to describe the supposed boundary dividing Poland in the West from Asiatic Russia in the East. In his view, institutions of the Russian state only feigned organization. Behind the façade “rambled the entirely Asiatic culturelessness and barbarity”.27 The conviction that the Russian people did not approve of the aggressive schemes of their rulers was a delusion: “The barbarian state policy went hand in hand with actions motivated by instinct and habit”.28 This current of anti-Russian reflection found a highly influential proponent in Polish professor at Berlin University, Aleksander Brückner (1856–1939). He viewed Russia as a dangerous monolith pursuing the unification of all neighboring nations by means of both Russification and compulsory conversion to Orthodox faith. For Brückner, the goals of Russian imperialism were immutable: “In the 1830’s, one would describe them in more concise terms: one God, one Tsar, one nation”.29 The prominent Slavist’s portrayal of Russian psychology did not deviate significantly from the conclusions of Przybyszewski and Doncov. He contended that Poles were by nature given to “Western rationalism, individualism, progress” and rejected “Eastern mysticism, (…) despotism, (…) stagnation”.30 Brückner’s assessment of Russian imperialism was echoed by Ukrainian deputy to the Vienna parliament, Lonhyn Cehelskyi (1875–1950): “The Russian empire was and continues to be a mass sepulcher of nations, a deadly enemy of culture and progress.31 Though this imperialism at times dressed up as Pan-Slavism, its true intentions could never truly be hidden.32 This proved all the harder for the fact that all lip service Russia paid to the ­community of Slavic nations had no ground in reality. In symbolic terms, 26 27 28 29 30 31 32

Dmytro Doncow, Die ukrainische Staatsidee und der Krieg gegen Rußland (Berlin: Kroll, 1915), 63. Franz von Kwilecki, Polen und Deutsche gegen Russland (Berlin: Germania, 1915), 26 and 44. Tadeusz Grużewski, Duch rosyjski jako wychowawca [Russian Spirit as a Tutor] (Warszawa: Wende & S-ka, 1916), 7. Alexander Brückner, Der Weltkrieg und die Slawen. Rede am 5. März 1915 (Berlin: Heymann, 1915), 9. Alexander Brückner, Die Slawen und der Weltkrieg. Lose Skizzen (Tübingen: Mohr, 1916), 39. Longin Cehelskyj, Der Krieg, die Ukraina und die Balkanstaaten (Wien: Verlag des Bundes zur Befreiung der Ukraine, 1915), 44. Wilhelm Feldman, Deutschland, Polen und die russische Gefahr (Berlin: Curtius, 1915), 23.

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Poles and Ukrainians expressed this view by substituting the word “Russians” with “Muscovites”. Ukrainian political activists in Germany contended that “between the Ukrainian and the Muscovite (Great Russian) nations, chasm yawns, deeper perhaps than those that cut across Slavic peoples in ethnology, anthropology, and language”.33 From there, an open road led to transpositions of characterological observations into racial anthropology. This current of “war of the spirits” will be discussed in detail later. Though Polish and Ukrainian authors saw the religiousness Russians persistently forced onto other national communities as mere pretense – the more shallow for its profuse public expressions – the war was often interpreted as a clash of religions.34 In the scheme of European belief systems construed by Austrian anthropologist Eugen Oberhummer (1859–1944), Orthodox Christianity found itself on the furthest antipodes of the truly individualist and European Protestantism, the latter identified with the rich German spirituality.35 German interpretations of the “Russian soul” changed first in response to the revolution, and then to the conclusion of the war. In representations of Bolsheviks, Asiatic barbarity gave way to an anti-Semitic dominant.36 At the same time, the Polish-Bolshevik War and struggles for Ukrainian independence reinforced Polish and Ukrainian perspectives dating to wartime in the inter-war period. In 1921, Dontsov interpreted Bolshevism as yet another strain of Russian Messianism, an extension of an anti-Occidental Pan-Slavism.37 Though newer studies of Polish Sovietology underline its scientifically objective character,38 its view of the Russian national character depended on antiquated motifs, only updated in view of the experience of revolution and Bolshevist terror. The regime

33 34 35 36 37 38

Die Ukraine und der Krieg. Denkschrift des Bundes zur Befreiung der Ukraine (München: Lehmanns, 1915), 10. Edward Grabowski, Na przełomie politycznym [On the Political Turn] (Warszawa: Wende & S-ka, 1916), 5. Eugen Oberhummer, Völkerpsychologie und Völkerkunde. Vortrag gehalten in der feierlichen Sitzung der Akademie der Wissenschaften in Wien, am 31. Mai 1922 (Wien: HölderPichler-Tempsky, 1923), 18. See e.g.: Rudolf Petersen, Der Bolschewismus in Russland und Wir (Dortmund: no publisher indicated, 1918); Walter Lessing, Der Bolschewismus in Russland und seine Wirtschaftspolitik (Berlin: Grübel, 1918). Дмитpo Дoнцoв, Пiдcтaви нaшoi пoлiтики [Fundaments of Our Policy] (Biдeнь: published on author’s costs, 1921), 5. Marek Kornat, Bolszewizm, totalitaryzm, rewolucja, Rosja. Początki sowietologii i studiów nad systemami totalitarnymi w Polsce (1918–1939) [Bolshevism, Totalitarism, Revolutionary Russia: The Beginnings of Polish Sovietology and Totalitarism-Studies, 1918–1939], vol. 1 (Kraków: Księgarnia Akademicka, 2003), 162.

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was commonly perceived as Russian in nature. Jan Karol Kochanowski (1869–1949) vehemently opposed the claim that it represented a pathological development in Russian history: “No! Like cannibalism on Fiji, it is truly an all-too-normal development”.39 Prominent writer Jan Parandowski (1895–1978) reconciled the progress of the revolution with attributes of the “Russian soul”. Russians, he claimed, were “people of the East”, submissive by nature and incapable of making use of freedom. Their apathy and passivity made them all the more dangerous: “The passivity of stagnation, indecision, unconsciousness turns under Bolshevik rule into a new form of passivity – a passivity of destruction and bloodshed, blind cruelty and barbarian wildness. It is always the same passivity, apathetic, dark, a hallmark of an undeveloped nation”.40 Like Doncov and Brückner a few years before, Parandowski warned against the apparent goodwill of Russians. In reality, Russians derived sadistic pleasure from bloodshed, “as if drawn to the very color red, which they perceive as krasny – beautiful [sic]”.41 The persistence of tropes of wartime characterology (surveys into the psychological specificity of the nations) seems to have resulted from two factors: First – as will be discussed further on – from a long and bountiful tradition particularly of Polish reflection on Russian national character, and second, the anti-Russian strain which diminished in Austria and Germany following the conclusion of the war, continued to develop in Central and Eastern Europe, as local conflicts continued. Its long duration testifies to the autonomy of intellectuals in our region with regard to Western European discourses. As time went by, the warring powers and their minor allies were joined in their struggle by newly-established political organizations usurping the right to represent particular nationalities of Central and Eastern Europe. In this manner, “nations” entered the war. The organizations in question had unequal capabilities and represented many political factions, yet they all documented their existence and political goals with a wide array of publications. Foremost among such entities were the Supreme National Committee (NKN), Union for the Liberation of Ukraine (Soyuz Vyzvolenniya Ukraini, Bund für Befreiung der Ukraine), Yugoslav Committee (Jugoslavenski Odbor), and the Czechoslovak committee headed by Tomáš Garrigue Masaryk (1850–1938), Edvard Beneš (1884–1948), and Milan Rastislav Štefánik (1880–1919). Some activists coped without sizeable organizations, like Estonian Aleksander Kesküla (1882–1963), Lithuanian 39 40 41

Jan K. Kochanowski, Polska w świetle psychiki własnej i obcej. Rozważania [Poland in the Light of Her Own and Foreigh Psyche] (Częstochowa: Gmachowski, 1925) (first ed.: 1920), 240. Jan Parandowski, Bolszewicy i bolszewizm w Rosji [Bolsheviks and Bolshevism in Russia] (Warszawa: Agawa, [2007]) (first ed. 1919), 27. Ibid., 25.

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Juozas Gabrys-Paršaitis (1880–1951), and Polish and Lithuanian activists associated with the Pro Lithuania magazine published in Freiburg, or the dauntless promoter of Pan-Turanian unity, Yusuf Akçura (1876–1935).42 The scope of activities of these individuals and organizations was impressive: the NKN alone had branches in Vienna, Berlin, Bern, Stockholm, and Copenhagen.43 Given that scholars agree to “Krieg der Geister’s” autonomy from state propaganda, it seems pointless to limit the research to states formally engaged in the war. Representatives of nationalities engaged in a struggle for self-determination exercised a similar creative autonomy. The broadening of the field of intellectual combat necessitates another reconfiguration with regard to common perceptions of World War I. As has already been mentioned, the time-frame of the conflict in the East differed from that in the West. East of Germany, war did not begin in 1914, nor did it end in 1918. Neither were the front-lines of “war of spirits” in the East concurrent with the boundaries between warring states, a feature typical of war in the West. Indeed, as a rule, these lines crisscrossed the territories of major powers, with the intellectual conflict often occurring outside of actual military operations. At times, the Eastern “war of the spirits” saw allies engage in conflict with one another. A relentless enmity, reflected in an abundance of wartime literary productions, divided Polish and Ukrainian political activists in Vienna and Berlin, in spite of the fact that both groups supported the Central Powers. Already during the Great War, the Polish­-Lithuanian conflict intensified. Though censorship, particularly active in Congress Poland under German occupation, hushed down excessively caustic statements, there can be no doubt that the mutual aversion of Poles and Germans hardly abated throughout the war years. As early as August 1914, Political representatives of the Czech national movement and Czech Germans pursued their own “internal wartime objectives” in an effort to weaken the position of the other nationality.44 The Yugoslav Committee in Paris, made up mostly of Croatian political exiles, treated the – formally allied – Italians with the ultimate distrust. The latter’s relations with Serbia followed the same pattern.45 As mentioned above, the peculiar Hungarian attitude to the war did not fit the pattern of officially propagated enthusiasm so common to Cisleithania. Not all 42 43 44 45

See Börje Colliander, Die Beziehungen zwischen Litauen und Deutschland während der Okkupation 1915–1918 (Åbo: published on author’s costs, 1935), 36–43. Jerzy Holzer, Jan Molenda, Polska w pierwszej wojnie światowej [Poland in the First World War], 3rd ed. (Warszawa: Wiedza Powszechna, 1973), 204. Catherine Albrecht, “The Bohemian Question”, in The Last Years of Austria-Hungary. A Multi-National Experiment in Early Twentieth-Century Europe, ed. Mark Cornwall, 2nd ed. (Exeter: University of Exeter Press, 2002), 91. Janko Pleterski, “The Southern Slav Question”, in: Ibid., 119–148.

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of these conflicts can be analyzed here, however, a selection of case studies offers some insight in the mechanisms of the Eastern “war of the spirits”. Many of such conflicts, at first expressed primarily in magazine articles, transformed into actual wars after 1918. Some simmered on in political and scholarly articles published in the newly-established nation-states. Broken down into a myriad of minor sections, the Eastern front of “war of the spirits” proved by and large to anticipate the post-war situation in the region. At the same time, it diverted in some aspects from the pattern established in the West, reinforcing the perception of an overarching historical entity. Two such aspects seem particularly prominent. First, local characterological studies included information about the history and culture of countries they reflected upon far more often than did their French, German, Italian, Russian, or British counterparts. Many authors justifiably assumed that knowledge about their fatherlands in other parts of Europe was limited. Before their authors could embark on an interpretation of the national character, they had to properly outline the historical and cultural foundations of the nation in question. Second, “war of the spirits” in the East faced the same obstacle which affected the efficiency of wartime propaganda in the region: a relatively limited readership. This fact additionally reinforced the tendency to concentrate on foreign propaganda. In comparison to the situation in the West, publications by authors from Central and Eastern Europe were more commonly addressed also (or exclusively) to foreign readers and published in foreign languages. Older works – often written by foreign authors in support of a particular major power – appeared in translations, often in abridged and simplified versions. Among the few ideological front-lines which corresponded to actual battlefronts was that between Serbia and Bulgaria. The latter state, an independent ally to the Central Powers, employed a separate propaganda machine aimed against virtually all of its neighbors. The machine’s activities anticipated later developments. In a response to the Carnegie Report, several volumes of documentation were published – following an example set by Greece – in an effort to pin cruelty and immorality during the Balkan Wars on the enemy.46 Concurrently, Bulgarian press ran descriptions of civilian massacres perpetrated by Serbians and Greeks, supposedly in the pursuit of total extermination of Bulgarians. Bulgarian authors expressed particular outrage at Serbian “treason” (in 1913). From the conclusion of military activities up until the 1930’s, both sides consistently reported on repressions aimed at the native populations

46

Richard C. Hall, The Balkan Wars 1912–1913. Prelude to the First World War (London: Routledge, 2000), 138.

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of territories seized during the war.47 In Bulgarian propaganda, Serbians were consistently cast as the antagonists, branded as chauvinistic, primitive, and backward megalomaniacs. This stereotype was framed by the contrast between a growingly literate Bulgaria and a Serbia continually struggling with illiteracy. Already in 1913, Bulgarian propaganda attached this distinction to the opposition between civilization and barbarity.48 Likewise, in Bulgarian characterological writings the role of the constitutive other was typically reserved for Serbians. Aleksandar Kiprov charged the latter with treacherousness and misunderstanding own strategic interests. This claim supposedly found an illustration in the Serbian policy toward Macedonia. Bulgarians, on the other hand, were a good-natured people who constantly pursued peaceful relations with all neighbors, even at the cost of concessions.49 Their psychological disposition also earned commendations from German, Hungarian, and Austrian authors, who conferred to Bulgarians primacy among all Balkan peoples. As Adolf Strausz (1853–1944), ethnographer from Budapest, noted, their virtues were too conspicuous to accept their subjugation by the “less worthy” Serbians and Romanians.50 Already in the Middle Ages, Serbians developed an exceptional impetuousness and unscrupulousness in reaction to vicious clashes with Goths, Huns, and Turks.51 Like other enemies of Germany, they were perceived as psychologically undeveloped. Alexander Redlich claimed that, while there was not a pure barbarity, neither did they possess a fully-formed culture: a typical Serbian was “a mixture of the two. (…) His education has not yet concluded. He might yet become a worthy member of the European cultural universe. Thus far, though, a solid pressure needs to be applied to prevent him from terrorizing Europe”.52 By comparison, Bulgarians excelled in maturity. Anthropologist Georg Buschan (1863–1942) described them as congenitally courageous, patriotic, intelligent, and given to remarkable intellectual ambitions: 47 48 49 50 51 52

Diana Mishkova, “Friends Turned Foes. Bulgarian National Attitudes to Neighbours”, in Pride and Prejudice. National Stereotypes in 19th and 20th Century Europe East to West, ed. Lászlo Kontler (Budapest: CEU Press, 1995), 168–170. Ibid., 173–174. Alexander Kiproff, Die Wahrheit über Bulgarien. Eine Darstellung der bulgarisch-­serbischen Beziehungen und der Grund Bulgariens an dem europäischen Krieg teilzunehmen (Bern– Biel–Zürich: Kuhn, 1916), 13 and 2. Adolf Strausz, Großbulgarien (Leipzig: Mitteldeutscher Buch- und Lehrmittelverlag, 1917), 1–2. Wilhelm von Waldeyer-Hartz, Die im Weltkriege stehenden Völker in anthropologischer Betrachtung. Rede am 15. Oktober 1915 (Berlin: Heydemann, 1915), 17. Alexander Redlich, “Serbien”, Der Panther 3 (1915), no. 12, 1446.

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The character of the Bulgarian is commonly revered. Among his more notable virtues are simplicity, humility, thrift, patriotism, and sociability, as well as his readiness for sacrifices (…). Beyond that, the Bulgarian is conspicuously hard-working and diligent, as well as remarkably persistent. Of note is finally also his prominent desire for education. In terms of temperament, he is serious and well-organized, yet capable of meeting the requirements of the most demanding tasks faced by his nation.53 The content of any national character was most commonly explained as the product of a nation’s history. In the eyes of Anastas Ishirkov (1868–1937), though Balkan Slavs possessed a highly developed material culture in the Middle Ages, they did not develop state-making abilities. It was only with the arrival of Proto-Bulgarians that the newly-established amalgam began to exhibit a spirit of discipline and conquest, as well as organizational talents.54 This set of virtues invited comparisons, with Bulgarians regularly likened to Prussians. Still, the term “Prussians of the Balkans”, repeatedly used to describe Bulgarians, was not sufficiently unambiguous. In the eyes of authors within the Entente, it figured as an accusation rather than a compliment: “The ideals which inspire Prussia and Bulgaria to-day are identical – arrogant contempt of other peoples, ruthless efficiency, and the worship of material progress”.55 Similar equivocations resulted from the identification of national attributes with the figure of a typical, peaceful and persistent Bulgarian peasant. Serbian anthropogeographer Jovan Cvijić (1865–1927) used this motif as proof that Bulgarians were characterized by an absence of energy, will to fight, and slavish submission to their masters already under Turkish domination. The key term in his description was raya – a term designating a class of slaves in the Ottoman Empire. The inclusion in this class distinguished them from the other Southern Slavic nations.56 A similar disregard for the heroic narrative of Bulgarian history was exhibited by Czesław Jankowski (1857–1929), an intellectual from Vilnius, in a

53 54 55 56

Georg Buschan, Die Bulgaren. Herkunft und Geschichte, Eigenschaften, Volksglaube, Sitten und Gebräuche (Stuttgart: Strecker und Schröder, 1917), 1 and 23. Anastas Ischirkoff, Bulgarien, Land und Leute. II. Teil (Bevölkerung, Volkswirtschaft, Siedlungsverhältnisse) (Leipzig: Parlapanoff, 1917), 4. Belisarius, “Bulgaria and Prussia – a Comparison and a Hope”, The New Europe 3 (1917), 85. Jovan Cvijić, “The Geographical Distribution of the Balkan Peoples”, The Geographical Review 5 (1918), no. 5, 345–361, here 358–359. On Cvijić, see Miroslav Vasović, Jovan Cvijić. Naučnik, javni radnik, državnik [Jovan Cvijić. Scholar, Councillor, Statesman] (Novi Sad: Matice Srpska, 1994).

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work published in Warsaw before the city was seized by the Germans.57 Robert William Seton-Watson condemned pre-war Europe’s excessive preference for Bulgarians for supposedly damaging their character, as happens usually when one goes head-on in uncritical peasant adoration.58 Cvijić ascribed to Bulgarians attributes that resembled those many Polish and Ukrainian authors attributed to Russians. Interestingly, he persistently used the term “Eurasia” in his works, while skillfully juggling quotes from Bulgarian authors who voiced skepticism at the identification of their nation as Slavic.59 Thus, Bulgarians were branded with Asiatic passivity, as their affinity to the West was represented as less significant than that of the more “western” Serbians. To make matters worse, the former subordinated themselves to the pernicious influence of an Orientalized Byzantium at a very early stage. By contrast, Serbia maintained a healthily patriarchal order throughout.60 The two Balkan nations also differed in the degree of psychological rootedness and the attachment to the fatherland. The Serbian, Cvijić claimed, possessed a keenly developed consciousness of his family history, a historical memory often stretching across numerous generations. Meanwhile, the Bulgarian’s Asiatic nature manifested itself precisely in the absence of a similarly pronounced tradition and the limitation of family memory to no more than three generations.61 The heroism of Serbian soldiers won them the warmest affection of many observers. Following on the heels of international aid and expressions of support were characterological conclusions, often setting the image of the noble Serbian against that of a Bulgarian. In his pamphlet on the Serbian spirit, Seton-Watson paid lip service to this opposition: “Certainly no greater contrast could be imagined than that between him [the Serbian] and his Bulgarian neighbour, so persevering and so obstinate, so reserved and suspicious, far less imaginative and slower to grasp a situation, but never renouncing an idea which has once entered his head”.62 While Bulgarians were referred to as “Prussians 57 58 59 60 61

62

Czesław Jankowski, Na gruzach Turcji. Zarysy historyczno-publicystyczne [On the Ruins of Turkey: Historical-Publicist Sketches] (Warszawa: Gebethner & Wolff, 1915), 167. Robert W. Seton-Watson, Europe in the Melting-Pot (London: Macmillan, 1919), 347. Jovan Cvijić, Questions balcaniques (Paris–Neuchâtel: Attinger Frѐres, [no date]), 60 (in reference to Panov). Jovan Cvijić, “The Zones of Civilization of the Balkan Peninsula”, The Geographical Review 5 (1918), no. 6, 473–476. Jovan Cvijić, “Studies in Jugoslav Psychology” (1921), The Slavonic and East European Review 9 (1930), no. 26, 380. Cvijić developed the concept in his opus magnum: Balkansko poluostrovo i južnoslovenske zemlje. Osnove antropogeografije (Beograd: Zavod za izdavanije učebnika SRS, 1966), 356–358. Robert W. Seton-Watson, The Spirit of the Serb (London: Nisbet, 1915), 16.

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of the Balkans”, the British historian believed that Serbians merited the name of “Frenchmen of the Balkans”.63 The Bulgarian-Serbian characterological conflict affected the developing Yugoslav idea. While its initial contours included Bulgarians – and went on to do so in later times – wartime saw the dominance of a tendency to exclude them from the brotherly community. Of note is the fact that differences of opinion on the matter between Serbian scholars reflected not so much their political affiliations as the branches of science they represented. Aleksandar Belić (1876–1960) – a scholar of literature and language – and Stojan Novaković (1842–1915) – a historian – were inclined to admit Bulgarians into the Yugoslav family. Setting out from completely different methodological assumptions, Cvijić successfully lobbied for an opposite position.64 In works, published by the Parisian Yugoslav Committee, Bulgaria only played a minor role, while Serbians, Croatians, and Slovenians were represented as members of one nation.65 The reduction of Bulgarians to the status of an ethnic group of Asian derivation greatly facilitated the extension of territorial claims toward Bulgarian territories. Since all Yugoslavs were characterized by “a rich imagination, enthusiasm, and national idealism”, they formed a mental community, justifying the scholars’ advocacy of the expansion of the Yugoslav state into territories inhabited by similarly disposed peoples, on the basis of national characterology.66 Indeed, conceptions of “national spirit”, which stemmed from the tradition of Völkerpsychologie, furnished arguments both for the political expansion of Yugoslavia in the Balkans and for privileging Serbians within the new state.67 Similar competition in the field of national character could be observed between Poles and Ukrainians with Germany playing for most time of the war the part of a jury, before this role was reclaimed by the victorious powers. Though no enemies to the Reich, Poles had to deal with widespread negative stereotyping across Germany from the outset of the war. They did so in several ways. Stanisław Przybyszewski, whose numerous articles in German (later published 63 64 65

66 67

Ibid. Andrej Mitrović, Serbia’s Great War 1914–1918 (London: Hurt & Co, 2007), 89–90. Vesna Drapac, Constructing Yugoslavia. A Transnational History (Houndmills: Palgrave Macmillan, 2010), 85–86; Marko Bulatović, “Struggling Yugoslavism. Dilemmas of Interwar Serb Political Thought”, in Ideologies and National Identities. The Case of TwentiethCentury Southeastern Europe, eds. John R. Lampe, Mark Mazower (Budapest–New York: CEU Press, 2004), 254–276. Milivoye S. Stanoyevich, “The Ethnography of the Yugo-Slavs”, The Geographical Review 7 (1919), no. 2, 97. Aleksandar Bošković, “Distinguishing ‘Self’ and ‘Other’. Anthropology and National Identity in Former Yugoslavia”, Anthropology Today 21 (2005), no. 2, 9.

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in a collection and in Polish translation) described all of the elements of the image of Russian barbarity, persuaded a leading German publisher that “Polish thought is far more closely related to the Teutonic spirit, and that Slavic and Teutonic domination ‘in spirit’ are not mutually exclusive – on the contrary, they are far more closely related than any other nation”.68 Attempts at hushing up the Polish-German conflict in the face of a common enemy were typical to German writers of Polish stock and Poles active in German public life. Like Przybyszewski, Aleksander Guttry (1887–1955), translator and animator of Polish-German cultural exchange, maintained that Poles were responsible for shifting the border of Central Europe several hundred kilometers further east.69 Wilhelm Feldman, Polish political activist, worked at a high pace in Berlin, attempting to induce the ruling elites of the Reich to officially accept the liberation of all oppressed nationalities as a wartime goal for Germany.70 Michał Bobrzyński (1849–1935), ex-governor of Habsburg Galicia, also opted for sober calculation rather than emotional address in his writings, rhetorically asking the leaders of the Reich: “what better safeguard for Germany against Russia: a fortress or fortified river on the land of a hateful people, or the strength of, and compassionate bond with, a nation of twenty million, believing in its historical mission and ready to act as the safeguard of Western civilization?”71 One obvious (indirect) response to German stereotyping was the apo‑ theoses of Polish national character. A genre which emerged with the establishment of the Kingdom of Poland, the production of these apotheoses flourished during the early years of independence, when, as Jerzy Jedlicki notes, they served to legitimize the newly-established state.72 Like in other countries, these texts fed on ideas well-established in the local culture, while lending them a radical edge and simplifying them in accordance to the demands of the moment. Within such apotheoses, the Polish psychological type was characterized 68

69 70 71 72

Quot. from: Dariusz Dziurzyński, “Od ‘nagiej duszy’ do ‘duszy narodu’. Przemiany myśli spirytualistycznej Stanisława Przybyszewskiego w obliczu Wielkiej Wojny”, in Literatura wobec I wojny światowej, eds. Maria J. Olszewska, Jadwiga Zacharska (Warszawa: Wydział Polonistyki Uniwersytetu Warszawskiego, 2000), 110. Alexander von Guttry, Die Polen und der Weltkrieg. Ihre politische und wirtschaftliche Entwicklung in Russland, Preußen und Österreich (München–Berlin: Müller, 1915), VII. See Wilhelm Feldman, Sprawa polska w Niemczech. Dwa głosy (Wiedeń–Stanisławów: Haskler, 1916). [Michał Bobrzyński], O naszą przyszłość. Rozmowa między trzema Polakami: z Warszawy, Poznania i Krakowa [For Our Future: Conversation between Three Poles: from Warsaw, Poznań, and Cracow] (Kraków: Anczyc, 1916), 17. Jerzy Jedlicki, “Polish Concepts of Native Culture”, in National Character and National Ideology in Interwar Eastern Europe, eds. Ivo Banac, Katherine Verdery (New Haven: Yale Center for International and Area Studies, 1995), 1–2.

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as harmonious and mild. These attributes were said to have developed so far as to adversely affect both the state and its citizen. From a broader perspective, however, no “corrective” was required. The problem was addressed in the immensely popular works by Artur Górski (1870–1959) and Antoni Chołoniewski (1872–1924): “And one has to agree that, had the moral outlook of the Polish tribe been different, had it carried in its heart the Western drive for conquest, Poles would likely have seen a better future, to speak in everyday terms; but the fate of Europe would have proved deplorable”.73 Side-by-side with an exceptionally developed morality, the Polish psychological self-portrait included tolerance, aversion to violence, frankness, deep religiousness, and the love of freedom.74 Without a doubt, all of those wondrous achievements developed naturally in Poles: “It is impossible to trace the source of those strikingly exceptional moral heights reached by Poland, as a state, to anything other than the human individuality, whose typical and categorical leadership must have had a psychological effect on the state as the representative organization of the nation”.75 The most colorful manifestations of this current of thought met with a critique from some Polish intellectuals, though it focused on particular claims rather than the general belief in Poland’s exceptional nature.76 The pronounced Polish individuality contrasted with the disposition of other nations, unable to boast similar virtues. Sketching out that continental backdrop, Polish ethno-psychologists somewhat casually debunked the most common motifs of wartime characterology. Stanisław Baczyński (1890–1939), literary historian and legionnaire, addressed the question of the Slavic civilizational “juniority”, distinguishing two types thereof. One corresponded to human childhood, with its intellectual limitations and lack of life experience. This, however, did not apply to Poles: “The youthfulness of the Polish soul, on the other hand, finds expression in conscious thought and work for a fatherland of the future, and has nothing to do with wildness. It does not stand in awe of Europe’s achievements, but understands them and engages them in culture 73 74 75 76

Artur Górski, Ku czemu Polska szła? (Where Was Poland Going?] (Warszawa: Arct, 1918), 199. Antoni B. Dobrowolski, Podstawy ideologii polskiej [Fundaments of Polish Ideology] (Warszawa: Arct, 1919), 6, 17–18; Jan K. Kochanowski, Rzut oka na upadek Rzeczypospolitej [A Glimpse on Commonwealth’s Fall] (Kraków: Rok Polski, 1919), 13. Jan K. Kochanowski, Trzy odczyty o Polsce [Three Lectures on Poland] (Warszawa: Wende & S-ka, 1917), 117. Stanisław Wójcik, Cechy narodowe Polaków w polemikach okresu międzywojennego (neoromantyków – piłsudczyków – narodowych demokratów) [National Features of the Poles in Interwar Polemics (Neoromanitists – Pilsudskiites – National Democrats] (Lublin: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Marii Curie-Skłodowskiej, 1989), 103–105.

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and thought, never shirking from its own creative work”.77 Polish authors also handled quite cleverly the popular claim on the peculiarly feminine character of their nation. As their point of departure, they used the exceptionally positive psychological characteristic of the Polish woman, which they then projected onto the entire nation. Górski claimed that the Polish woman “Controlled her instincts, possessed a moral ideal – and in herself, as a matron, offered to the nation an ideal to follow. (…) By living thus, she immensely affected both the spiritual and the physical type of the nation – she refined her race”.78 What made the theories of Jan Karol Kochanowski, Wincenty Lutosławski (1863–1954) or Rev. Jan Ciemniewski (1866–1947) stand out from the works of their German counterparts was the divergence in valuations. In Polish publications, the femininity of one’s nation became a virtue rather than the pernicious vice or an effect of social or psychological pathology, for which it was taken by authors writing in German. If anyone possessed a set of attributes directly contrasted to those of the Polish, it was not the Russians (as “feminized” as Poles), but rather the nations of Western Europe. Reverend Ciemniewski gloated over the virtue of the Polish as a “womanly nation”: Thus our strength lies in our hearts, not in our heads, as it does for Germans or the English. The heart of a Pole holds incredible treasures, unknown to any other nation, like pearls hidden at the bottom of the sea – firstly, the sense of beauty, truth, and good, the love of freedom and common justice. Possessiveness does not lie in the Polish nature, shaped as it is by the creative work in the fields.79 To sum up the perspective of Polish characterologists, one can claim that the correctives they applied to gender stereotypes popular in Europe at that time did not challenge the basic assumptions of psychologists or anthropologists. Rather than questioning the negative attributes ascribed to women in that period, Polish authors inscribed women into their vision of the Polish as an element of a greater synthesis: a perfect human type personified by great Poles. The same procedure is applied in the works of philosopher Wincenty Lutosławski, popularizing the Polish cause in the West. In a brochure published in English in 1917, he affirmed that the “Aryan-Slavic” Poles constituted 77

Stanisław Baczyński, Miecz i korona. Myśl o duszy polskiej [A Sword and a Crown: Thinking about the Polish Soul] (Warszawa: Kasa Przezorności i Pomocy Warszawskich Pomocników Księgarskich, 1915), 94–95. 78 Górski, Ku czemu, 286–287. 79 Jan Ciemniewski, Budujmy Polską wewnątrz [Let Us Build the Inner Poland] (Lwów: published on author’s costs, 1917), 14.

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the perfect embodiment of all Slavic ideals for being the only nation in broader vicinity to never have changed its location. Therefore, it is hardly surprising that – as opposed to Germans and “Turanian” Muscovites – Poles are passionately attached to the tilling and ownership of their land. Like other Slavs, they are deeply religious, joyful and hospitable. Their reverence for femininity is extraordinary; it is captured in the religious cult of Virgin Mary. (…) Women as heroines were revered in Poland since time immemorial, when Princess Wanda sacrificed herself because she would rather die than accept a forced marriage. Queen Jadwiga conquered Lithuania and Ruthenia having sacrificed her romantic bond to an Austrian prince; she led the Polish army like many other women did in our uprisings – among them Emilia Plater, glorified in Mickiewicz’s verse. Poles adore their women and gladly accept their counsel in matters of the greatest importance. The enthusiasm of women is largely responsible for maintaining patriotic feelings and keeping the struggle for independence alive.80 Apparently responding to the dominant, critical evaluations of characterological femininity, Lutosławski added: “This influence of their women proves the manliness of the Poles, and it would be a mistaken inference to see in it a mark of effeminacy. The more perfect a man is as a man, the more he appreciates perfect womanhood”.81 Both in the case of Jan Ciemniewski, Wincenty Lutosławski, and Maria Czesława Przewóska (1868–1938), attitude toward women constituted a contrasting addition to a nationalist-conservative worldview. Warding off foreign influence on “the spiritual attributes of a race” the vehemently anti-Semite Przewóska believed at the same time that “The circumscription of women’s world exclusively within children’s rooms, kitchen, pantry, and salon does not result in a positive change in social life at all. The degradation of women to roles prescribed by a culture of males of the species eventually comes back to haunt them”. Poland – she added – is strong by the strength of its female citizen.82 80 81 82

Wincenty Lutosławski, The Polish Nation. A Lecture Delivered at the Lowell Institute in Boston on October 21, 1907, and at the University of California on March 9, 1908 (Paris: no publisher indicated, 1917), 48–49. Ibid., 49. Maria C. Przewóska, Polska i jej twierdze bytu. Skład zasad narodowej samowiedzy twórczej [Poland and Her Being’s Fortresses: A Catechism of a National Productive Self-Consciousness] (Katowice: Odrodzenie, 1923), 77–78; cf. Artur Górski, Kultura narodu [The Nation’s Culture] (Warszawa: Fronda, 2009), 210.

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Though comparisons of Poles to other nations seem an indelible part of all considerations on national exceptionalism, Polish characterologists reflected primarily on Russians, Germans, and Jews. Their views of Russians, as already noted, generally did not deviate from stereotypes developed for the purposes of German and Austro-Hungarian “war of the spirits”. Germans and Jews, on the other hand, were said to share many attributes ascribed to Russians, thus creating a more or less coherent image of the enemy. As Zygmunt Wasilewski (1865–1949) noted, Jews may have suffered the most in Russia, and yet they maintained a psychological affinity to the country. The reason was traced to a supposed spiritual kinship derived from shared nomadic traditions.83 Psychologically, nomads always remained children – with no duties other than obedience to superiors and no respect for private ownership. Once – suggested Mieczysław Geniusz (1853–1920) – they wandered persistently, but in more recent times, their spiritual unease manifested itself in territorial aggression.84 This concept of nomadism was developed further by Jan Karol Kochanowski, Wincenty Lutosławski, and Feliks Koneczny (1862–1949), who also applied it to their descriptions of Germans. In this respect, Lutosławski referred directly to wartime propaganda, claiming that “It is not without a reason that Germans are still called Huns in France and England. They carry the Turanian blood of the Huns, the real source of their contempt for law and justice”.85 The division between settled peoples and nomads formed a constitutive axis for ruminations in philosophy of history extending across the entire history of Europe: Within the Aryan race (…) we find two opposed types: the one warring, nomadic, possessive, protestant (with Zoroaster as the spiritual ancestor for Luther who broke the pre-Aryan unity – or triplicity – with his dualism), the other settled, loving freedom and politics, pursuing democracy, and also greatly creative in arts and catholic in religion, that is, loving the common unity.86

83

84 85 86

Zygmunt Wasilewski, O życiu i katastrofach cywilizacji narodowej. Wstęp do rozważań nad programowemi zagadnieniami doby obecnej [Life and Calamities of the National Civilization: Introduction to the Current Programmatic Questions] (Warszawa: Perzyński, Niklewicz & S-ka, 1921), 38 and 87. Mieczysław Geniusz, Co człowiek i Polak wiedzieć powinien [What Every Man and Pole Should Know] (Warszawa: Towarzystwo Oświaty Narodowej, 1920), 41. Wincenty Lutosławski, Wojna wszechświatowa. Jej odległe przyczyny i skutki [The World War: Its Far Causes and Consequences] (Lwów: Altenberg 1920), 27. Ibid., 14.

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Without a doubt, the settled type found its most perfect embodiment in Poles due to their timeless presence within Lechia – the cradle of the Slavs and the bulwark of Western culture.87 However, Polish claims to the role of the bulwark of Western civilization were not beyond doubt. Exceptionally active during wartime, Ukrainian scholars and political writers etched out a competing concept. They also successfully lobbied for this concept to be accepted by the foreign public opinion. The political program they tried to implement involved – from a maximalist standpoint – the formation of an independent Ukrainian state associated with or incorporated within the Habsburg monarchy. More realistically, they focused on the implementation of pre-war demands for improving the situation of Ukrainians in Galicia and the creation of a separate Ukrainian crown state, consisting of Bukovina and Eastern Galicia. The position of Polish proponents of AustriaHungary was analogous and included both the postulate of the recreation of a Polish state and the demand for a reformulation of the Austro-Hungarian state in the spirit of an Austro-Hungarian-Polish trialism. Both nations also shared a common major enemy; that role was assigned to Russia. The proximate positions of quarrelling national factions in some ways forced them into an energetic pursuit of mutual differences and the construction of characterological hierarchies. In the eyes of numerous Polish writers, the supposed Ukrainian adoration of Muscovites was perfectly understandable. Ukrainians were indeed the closest of kin to Russians, and those among them who lived within the Tsardom were nothing other than Russians. As Wacław Schmidt observed, “the Ukrainian country has to be seen as a racial, religious, political, and economic component of the all-Russian imperializing subject”. For Schmidt, linguistic distinctions between Ukrainians and Russians possessed no more significance than those between a German from East Prussia and a Bavarian.88 Aleksander Brückner espoused similar beliefs, despite conceding that a minor proportion of Ukrainian activists in Galicia embraced anti-Russian positions.89 It was precisely that group that became the object of assaults from Stanisław Głąbiński (1862–1941), prominent national-democratic politician and former rector of the University of Lviv. In his view, activists purposely falsified reality by construing a Ukrainian

87 Kochanowski, Rzut oka, 4. 88 Wacław Schmidt, Czego chce Rosya? [What Does Russia Want?] (Lozanna: Przegląd Polityczny, 1917), 23 and 25. 89 Brückner, Die Slawen, 6–7.

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nationality within Russian borders in hopes of enticing the Central Powers with the perspective of gaining a powerful ally. Meanwhile, Głąbiński surmised, during the offensive in the Eastern front the armies of Germany and AustriaHungary met no one willing to call himself Ukrainian. The nationality was said not to have turned up even among Russian prisoners of war.90 In another text, Głąbiński completely rejected any national identity to Ukrainian peasants.91 In response, Ukrainian authors firmly stressed the ethnic, cultural, and psychological distinction between their nation and the Russians, while accusing Poles of exhibiting Russophilia.92 In their opinion, a chasm existed between Ukrainians and Russians, with the healthy aversion expressed, for instance, in the common use of the terms “Muscovites” or kacapy [Russkies] to describe the neighboring nation.93 Suggestions to the effect that Habsburg and Romanov subjects of Ukrainian stock differed in any way were vehemently rejected. Lonhyn Cehelskyi argued that both in Galicia and in leftbank Ukraine “the country is Ukrainian – the only foreign element anywhere is the ruling stratum, consisting of landowners, merchants, (…) usurers, innkeepers, and officials”.94 Aleksander Barwiński (1847–1926) painted the psychological portrait of Ukrainians as distinct from the Russians in their numerous talents and nimble minds.95 Prominent historian Mykhailo Hrushevskyi (1866–1934) located the moment of division of Eastern Slavs into separate nations in prehistoric times. From that point on, every group took shape in response to different environment – Belorussians to Lithuanian, Russians to Finnish, and Ukrainians to Turkish. Development along separate lines of historical progress caused the cultures of the Slavs to diverge, even on an 90 91 92

93 94 95

[Stanisław Głąbiński], Die Ukraina. Ein Problem oder ein Phantom? Von einem österreichischen Polen (Wien: Herrmann, 1918), 11–12. [Stanisław Głąbiński], Ukrainische Phantasien. Kultur-politische Streiflichter. Von einem österreichischen Polen (Wien: Herrmann, 1918), 8. Eugen Lewicky, Osteuropäische Probleme und der Krieg (Berlin: Brückmann, 1916), 7; Verax [Mykhailo Lozynskyj], Der Weltkrieg und das ukrainische Problem. Ein Beitrag zur Aufklärung der gegenwärtigen politischen Lage (Berlin: Kroll, 1915), 51; Austriacus [Otto Pfeifer], Polnische Russophilen und Massenverhaftungen staatstreuer Ukrainer in Galizien (Berlin: Kroll, 1915), passim; K.S., Die Gegner der Ukraine (no place indicated, [1915]), VII; Dokumente des polnischen Russophilismus, ed. Michael Lozynskyj (Berlin: Kroll, 1915), passim; Observator, Maske weg! Ein Blick hinter die Koulissen der polnischen Politik (Berlin: Kroll, 1914), passim. Eugen Lewicky, Ukraine, Ukrainer und die Interessen Deutschlands (Berlin: Curtius, 1915), 17. Longin Cehelskyj, Was soll jeder Soldat über die Länder nördlich der Karpaten und östlich des Weichsel- und Sanflusses wissen? (Berlin: Kroll, 1915), 6. Karl Nötzel, Alexander Barwinskyi, Die slawische Volksseele (Jena: Diederichs, 1916), 42.

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everyday level. Addressing German-speaking readers, Hrushevskyi invoked conservative beliefs on the social role of women. He described Ukrainian culture as consistently patriarchal, claiming that Ukrainian women were totally subjected to the men.96 Vladimir Kushnir (1881–1938) observed that Ukrainians have heretofore endured defeats both in politics and in philosophy: Russia took away their independence, and historiography robbed them of a national history.97 In their efforts to reclaim the latter, Ukrainian authors focused on two distinct moments. First, they identified modern Ukrainians with natives of Kievan Rus, thus testifying to the historical primacy of Ukrainians among Eastern Slavs. Cehelski explained that Ukraine’s glorious past even informed the Muscovites’ choice of a name for themselves. “Ruskiye” supposedly initially denoted peoples subjected by Kievan Rus. Though separate from time immemorial, Muscovites grew even more distant from Ukrainians in racial terms as they absorbed the adjacent Chud tribes.98 Their entire culture was, in fact, a product of Kiev’s civilizing influence that was forced onto Moscow while it was still in a “wild” state.99 Describing the culture-making role of ancient Ukraine and its impact on Russia, Kushnir spoke highly of Ukraine’s “colonizing achievements” and the country’s “culture-bearers”.100 According to Hrushevskyi, the culture of Kievan Rus served as the foundation for all advances in civilization in Eastern Europe and, by means of the colonized Moscow, also Northern Asia. In such narratives, the decline of ancient Ukraine was tied to the country’s firmly underlined role as the bulwark of Western culture. Ukraine was represented as a safeguard against Asian invasion.101 It figured as a Slavic heartland and the boundary between East met West, at the same time.102 Polish authors also laid claim to both positions, exploiting a more developed historiographic 96

Michael Hruschewskyj, Geschichte der Ukraine, vol. 1 (Lemberg: Bund der Befreiung der Ukraine, 1916), 33, 45 and 50. 97 Wladimir Kuschnir, Die Ukraine und ihre Bedeutung im gegenwärtigen Krieg mit Russland (Wien: Verlag der “Ukrainischen Rundschau”, [1915]), 10. 98 Льoнгiн Цeгeльcьки, Pycь-Yкpaїнa a Mocкoвщинa-Pocciя. Icтopичнo-пoлїтичнa poзвiдкa [Rus-Ukraine and Moscou-Russia: Study in History and Politics], 2nd revised ed. (Цapгopoд: Coюз Визвoлeння Yкpaїни, 1916), 30. 99 Льoнгiн Цeгeльcьки, Caмocтйнa Укpaїнa [Independent Ukraine] (Вiдeнь: Coюз визвoлeння Укpaїни, 1915), 5–6. 100 Kuschnir, Die Ukraine, 5, 11. 101 Hruschewskyj, Geschichte der Ukraine, VI; Stephan Smal-Stockyj, “Das ukrainische Volk und die ukrainische Sprache”, Die Ukraine 3 (1921), no. 6, 132. 102 Stephan Tomaschiwskyj, Die weltpolitische Bedeutung Galiziens (München: Bruckmann, 1915), 15.

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tradition; without a doubt, the existence and historical impact of Poland had left a more lasting mark on European public opinion than did the attainments of Ukrainians. In these circumstances, Ukrainian authors who relied on historical and cultural arguments were pegged back and forced to accept compromises. For instance, writing for a French-speaking audience, Mykhailo Lozynskyi (1880–1937) opted against challenging the history of Polish efforts to defend Western civilization, and decided to append an equally glorious Ukrainian corollary to it.103 Polish authors vehemently rejected similar propositions. In their view, Ukraine constituted a Polish cultural and economic dominion. As economist Włodzimierz Wakar (1885–1933) noted, “The communication of Poland with the East consisted in (…) a one-sided, unreciprocated Polish cultural influence”.104 A division of Galicia into Ukrainian and Polish sections was beside the point, given that the nations mixed to a far too great extent.105 Both could also claim primacy and aboriginal status in the province.106 The local population was bereft of national identity and required the supervision of elites of no other than Polish stock.107 Furthermore, only Poland could save the province from Bolshevik infiltration.108 In painting such images, both Polish and Ukrainian authors used the language of German nationalist descriptions of the East. And, like in other countries, this nationalist discourse attracted authors who exhibited no rightist tendencies in other contexts. Leon Wasilewski, the foremost specialists in national issues among Polish socialists, wrote during wartime: While protecting the newly-attached non-Polish territories from external enemies, Poland bestowed on them the fruits of its culture, carried on the one hand by the mass of Polish settlers colonizing the East en masse, and on the other by the increasingly Polonized local elites. Derived from 103 Michel Lozynsky, Comment les Polonais comprennent leur liberté, trans. G. Brocher (Lausanne: Revue Ukrainienne, 1916), 3. 104 Włodzimierz Wakar, Stanowisko dziejowe Polaków [The Historical Stance of the Poles] (Warszawa: Jakowicki, 1915), 7. 105 Wincenty Lutosławski, Eugeniusz Romer, The Ruthenian Question in Galicia (Paris: Polish Commission of Work Preparatory to the Conference of Peace, 1919), 8–9. 106 Edward Maliszewski, Polacy i polskość na Litwie i Rusi [Poles and Polishness in Lithuania and Ruthenia], 2nd ed. (Warszawa: Polskie Towarzystwo Krajoznawcze, 1916), 36. 107 Eugeniusz Romer, Études de civilisation comparée (Polonais, Ruthènes et Allemands) (Paris: Barrère, [1920]), 16. 108 Les confins orientaux de la Pologne (Paris: Commission polonaise des travaux préparatoires au Congrès de la Paix, 1918), 6 and 15.

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­ yzantium, Ruthenian culture (…) could not withstand competition B from the Western culture of Poles.109 The engagement of Eastern European intellectuals in the war is certainly not a blank spot in historiography, even if it is rarely accorded more than a marginal position in national narratives. This is partially due to the dominance of political history. I believe that the significance of this phenomenon can only be measured if it is viewed in the right context. First of all, writings of intellectuals from Central and Eastern Europe that subscribed to the tradition of national characteristics form a widely varied, and yet consistent whole. The different camps engaged in a lively exchange of views as well as invectives, while showing exceptional determination in the pursuit of patronage from German, French, and British elites. Hence, brochures and other publications did not solely reflect the current political conjunction, but also represented a part of a broader, international debate. Second, the intellectual exchange concurrent with the events in the Eastern front and the Balkans parallels the phenomenon which the historiography of World War I dubbed “the war of the spirits” in structure, participation, argumentation, and the ethno-psychological generalizations it relied on. Furthermore, there seem to be no sufficient causes for treating Central and Eastern Europe or the Balkans as an exceptional front of the war. Neither in intellectual standing of the authors involved, nor in the discursive strategies they used, did “Krieg der Geister” in the East deviate from its counterpart on the Western front. A geographically broader approach to the phenomenon necessitates a revision in the chronology of the European conflict. In the West, as well as in Russia, the “war of the spirits” erupted suddenly in the final weeks of Summer 1914 and continued at a slowly declining pace until the Russian Revolution and the German capitulation. The inclusion of Central and Eastern Europe and the Balkans to this narrative necessitates a shift in the time-line. In those regions, war – both actual and intellectual – broke out already in 1912, and continued following a change in its international context as the Second Balkan War. While World War I ended, conflict in the Balkans outlasted even the numerous border conflicts. Its life-span was extended by the persistent threat of Bolshevik invasion, the smoldering internal conflicts, unresolved territorial disputes, and finally the vivid revisionist propaganda in Germany and Hungary. 109 Leon Wasilewski, Die Ostprovinzen des alten Polenreichs (Lithauen u. Weissruthenien – die Landschaft Chełm – Ostgalizien – die Ukraina) (Kraków: Naczelny Komitet Narodowy, 1916), 16–17.

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What British and French intellectuals perceived as a passing phase became a chronic problem in Germany and countries further to the East. In some cases, the intellectual mobilization for the war never really ended. Works Cited Albrecht, Catherine. “The Bohemian Question”. In The Last Years of Austria-Hungary. A Multi-National Experiment in Early Twentieth-Century Europe, edited by Mark Cornwall, 75–95. 2nd ed. Exeter: University of Exeter Press, 2002. Austriacus [Otto Pfeifer]. Polnische Russophilen und Massenverhaftungen staatstreuer Ukrainer in Galizien. Berlin: Kroll, 1915. Baczyński, Stanisław. Miecz i korona. Myśl o duszy polskiej. Warszawa: Kasa Przezorności i Pomocy Warszawskich Pomocników Księgarskich, 1915. Barker, Ernest. Nietzsche and Treitschke. the Worship of Power in Modern Germany. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1914. Belisarius, “Bulgaria and Prussia – a Comparison and a Hope”, The New Europe 3 (1917), 82–86. Besser, Salomon. Wojna europejska jako walka ducha. Szkic filozoficzny. Częstochowa: Drukarnia “Udziałowa”, 1915. [Bobrzyński, Michał]. O naszą przyszłość. Rozmowa między trzema Polakami: z Warszawy, Poznania i Krakowa. Kraków: Anczyc, 1916. Bošković, Aleksandar. “Distinguishing ‘Self’ and ‘Other’. Anthropology and National Identity in Former Yugoslavia”, Anthropology Today 21 (2005), no. 2, 8–13. Brückner, Alexander. Der Weltkrieg und die Slawen. Rede am 5. März 1915. Berlin: Heymann, 1915. Brückner, Alexander. Die Slawen und der Weltkrieg. Lose Skizzen. Tübingen: Mohr, 1916. Bulatović, Marko. “Struggling Yugoslavism. Dilemmas of Interwar Serb Political Thought”, In Ideologies and National Identities. The Case of Twentieth-Century Southeastern Europe, edited by John R. Lampe, Mark Mazower, 254–276. Budapest–New York: CEU Press, 2004. Buschan, Georg. Die Bulgaren. Herkunft und Geschichte, Eigenschaften, Volksglaube, Sitten und Gebräuche. Stuttgart: Strecker und Schröder, 1917. Cehelskyj, Longin. Der Krieg, die Ukraina und die Balkanstaaten. Wien: Verlag des Bundes zur Befreiung der Ukraine, 1915. Cehelskyj, Longin. Was soll jeder Soldat über die Länder nördlich der Karpaten und östlich des Weichsel- und Sanflusses wissen? Berlin: Kroll, 1915. Цeгeльcьки, Льoнгiн. Pycь-Yкpaїнa a Mocкoвщинa-Pocciя. Icтopичнo-пoлїтичнa poзвiдкa, 2nd revised ed. Цapгopoд: Coюз Визвoлeння Yкpaїни, 1916.

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Цeгeльcьки, Льoнгiн. Caмocтйнa Укpaїнa. Вiдeнь: Coюз визвoлeння Укpaїни, 1915. Ciemniewski, Jan. Budujmy Polską wewnątrz. Lwów: published on author’s costs, 1917. Colliander, Börje. Die Beziehungen zwischen Litauen und Deutschland während der Okkupation 1915–1918. Åbo: published on author’s costs, 1935. Les confins orientaux de la Pologne. Paris: Commission polonaise des travaux préparatoires au Congrès de la Paix, 1918. Cvijić, Jovan. Questions balcaniques. Paris–Neuchâtel: Attinger Frѐres, [no date]. Cvijić, Jovan, “The Zones of Civilization of the Balkan Peninsula”, The Geographical Review 5 (1918a), no. 6: 470–482. Cvijić, Jovan. “Studies in Jugoslav Psychology” (1921), The Slavonic and East European Review 9 (1930), no. 26: 375–390. Cvijić, Jovan. Balkansko poluostrovo i južnoslovenske zemlje. Osnove antropogeografije. Beograd: Zavod za izdavanije učebnika srs, 1966. Cvijić, Jovan. “The Geographical Distribution of the Balkan Peoples”, The Geographical Review 5 (1918b), no. 5: 345–361. Čapek, Thomas. Bohemia under Hapsburg Misrule. A Study of the Ideals and Aspirations of the Bohemian and Slovak Peoples, as they Relate to and are Affected by the Great European War. New York–Chicago–Toronto: Revell, 1915. Delaturda, Ion C. Viaţa morala a popoarelor şi războiul european. Cauze şi efecte. Bucureşti: Poporul, 1916. Dobrowolski, Antoni B. Podstawy ideologii polskiej. Warszawa: Arct, 1919. Doncow, Dmytro. Die ukrainische Staatsidee und der Krieg gegen Rußland. Berlin: Kroll, 1915. Дoнцoв, Дмитpo. Пiдcтaви нaшoi пoлiтики. Biдeнь: published on author’s costs, 1921. Drapac, Vesna. Constructing Yugoslavia. A Transnational History. Houndmills: Palgrave Macmillan, 2010. Dziurzyński, Dariusz. “Od ‘nagiej duszy’ do ‘duszy narodu’. Przemiany myśli spirytualistycznej Stanisława Przybyszewskiego w obliczu Wielkiej Wojny”. In Literatura wobec I wojny światowej, edited by. Maria J. Olszewska, Jadwiga Zacharska, 105–117. Warszawa: Wydział Polonistyki Uniwersytetu Warszawskiego, 2000. Eвpoпeйcкaя вoйнa кaкъ пpeдвecтникъ cлaвянcкoй фeдepaции. Mocквa: Люндopфъ, 1914. Feldman, Wilhelm. Deutschland, Polen und die russische Gefahr. Berlin: Curtius, 1915. Feldman, Wilhelm. Sprawa polska w Niemczech. Dwa głosy. Wiedeń–Stanisławów: Haskler, 1916. First Report of the Political, National and Philanthropic Work of the Czech (Bohemian) Colony in Great Britain from August 4, 1914 until 31 December, 1915. [no place], 1916.

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Geniusz, Mieczysław. Co człowiek i Polak wiedzieć powinien. Warszawa: Towarzystwo Oświaty Narodowej, 1920. [Głąbiński, Stanisław]. Die Ukraina. Ein Problem oder ein Phantom? Von einem österreichischen Polen. Wien: Herrmann, 1918. [Głąbiński, Stanisław]. Ukrainische Phantasien. Kultur-politische Streiflichter. Von einem österreichischen Polen. Wien: Herrmann, 1918. Górski, Artur. Ku czemu Polska szła? Warszawa: Arct, 1918. Górski, Artur. Kultura narodu. Warszawa: Fronda, 2009. Grabowski, Edward. Na przełomie politycznym. Warszawa: Wende & S-ka, 1916. Grużewski, Tadeusz et al. Wobec przewrotu rosyjskiego. Warszawa: Jakowicki, 1917. Grużewski, Tadeusz. Duch rosyjski jako wychowawca. Warszawa: Wende & S-ka, 1916. Guttry. Die Polen und der Weltkrieg. Ihre politische und wirtschaftliche Entwicklung in Russland, Preußen und Österreich. München–Berlin: Müller, 1915. Hall, Richard C. The Balkan Wars 1912–1913. Prelude to the First World War. London: Routledge, 2000. Holzer, Jerzy and Jan Molenda, Polska w pierwszej wojnie światowej. 3rd ed. Warszawa: Wiedza Powszechna, 1973. Hruschewskyj, Michael. Geschichte der Ukraine, vol. 1. Lemberg: Bund der Befreiung der Ukraine, 1916. Ischirkoff, Anastas. Bulgarien, Land und Leute. II. Teil (Bevölkerung, Volkswirtschaft, Siedlungsverhältnisse). Leipzig: Parlapanoff, 1917. Jankowski, Czesław. Na gruzach Turcji. Zarysy historyczno-publicystyczne. Warszawa: Gebethner & Wolff, 1915. Jedlicki, Jerzy. “Polish Concepts of Native Culture”. In National Character and National Ideology in Interwar Eastern Europe, edited by Ivo Banac and Katherine Verdery, 1–22. New Haven: Yale Center for International and Area Studies, 1995. Kiproff, Alexander. Die Wahrheit über Bulgarien. Eine Darstellung der bulgarischserbischen Beziehungen und der Grund Bulgariens an dem europäischen Krieg teilzunehmen (Bern–Biel–Zürich: Kuhn, 1916). Kochanowski, Jan K. Polska w świetle psychiki własnej i obcej. Rozważania. Częstochowa: Gmachowski, 1925. Kochanowski, Jan K. Rzut oka na upadek Rzeczypospolitej. Kraków: Rok Polski, 1919. Kochanowski, Jan K. Trzy odczyty o Polsce. Warszawa: Wende & S-ka, 1917. Kornat, Marek. Bolszewizm, totalitaryzm, rewolucja, Rosja. Początki sowietologii i studiów nad systemami totalitarnymi w Polsce (1918–1939), vol. 1. Kraków: Księgarnia Akademicka, 2003. Kruse, Wolfgang (ed.). Eine Welt von Feinden: Der Große Krieg 1914–1918. Frankfurt am Main: Fischer, 1997. Kurnatowski, Jerzy. Przyczyny wojny europejskiej. Warszawa: Arct, 1915.

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Kuschnir, Wladimir. Die Ukraine und ihre Bedeutung im gegenwärtigen Krieg mit Russland. Wien: Verlag der “Ukrainischen Rundschau”, [1915]. Kwilecki, Franz von, Polen und Deutsche gegen Russland. Berlin: Germania, 1915. Laqueur, Walter and George L. Mosse (eds.). Kriegsausbruch 1914. München: Nymphenburger Verlagshandlung, 1970. Lessing, Walter. Der Bolschewismus in Russland und seine Wirtschaftspolitik. Berlin: Grübel, 1918. Lewicky, Eugen. Ukraine, Ukrainer und die Interessen Deutschlands. Berlin: Curtius, 1915. Lewicky, Eugen. Osteuropäische Probleme und der Krieg. Berlin: Brückmann, 1916. Lozynsky, Michel. Comment les Polonais comprennent leur liberté, trans. G. Brocher. Lausanne: Revue Ukrainienne, 1916. Lozynskyj, Michael (ed.) Dokumente des polnischen Russophilismus. Berlin: Kroll, 1915. Lutosławski, Wincenty. The Polish Nation. A Lecture Delivered at the Lowell Institute in Boston on October 21, 1907, and at the University of California on March 9, 1908 (Paris: no publisher indicated, 1917). Lutosławski, Wincenty. Wojna wszechświatowa. Jej odległe przyczyny i skutki Lwów: Altenberg 1920. Lutosławski, Wincenty and Eugeniusz Romer. The Ruthenian Question in Galicia. Paris: Polish Commission of Work Preparatory to the Conference of Peace, 1919. Maliszewski, Edward. Polacy i polskość na Litwie i Rusi, 2nd ed. Warszawa: Polskie Towarzystwo Krajoznawcze, 1916. Mishkova, Diana. “Friends Turned Foes. Bulgarian National Attitudes to Neighbours”. In Pride and Prejudice. National Stereotypes in 19th and 20th Century Europe East to West, edited by Lászlo Kontler, 163–186. Budapest: CEU Press, 1995. Mitrović, Andrej. Serbia’s Great War 1914–1918. London: Hurt & Co, 2007. Mommsen, Wolfgang J. “Die europäischen Intellektuellen, Schriftsteller und Künstler und der Erste Weltkrieg”. In Bürgerliche Kultur und politische Ordnung. Künstler, Schriftsteller und Intellektuelle in der deutschen Geschichte 1830–1933, edited by Wolfgang J. Mommsen. Frankfurt am Main: Fischer, 2000. Nötzel, Karl and Alexander Barwinskyi. Die slawische Volksseele. Jena: Diederichs, 1916. Oberhummer, Eugen. Völkerpsychologie und Völkerkunde. Vortrag gehalten in der feierlichen Sitzung der Akademie der Wissenschaften in Wien, am 31. Mai 1922. Wien: Hölder-Pichler-Tempsky, 1923. Observator. Maske weg! Ein Blick hinter die Koulissen der polnischen Politik. Berlin: Kroll, 1914. Parandowski, Jan. Bolszewicy i bolszewizm w Rosji. Warszawa: Agawa, [2007]. Pârvan, Vasile. Dacia An Outline of the Early Civilizations of the Carpatho-Danubian Countries. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1928.

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Petersen, Rudolf. Der Bolschewismus in Russland und Wir. Dortmund: no publisher indicated, 1918. Pleterski, Janko. “The Southern Slav Question”. In The Last Years of Austria-Hungary. A  Multi-National Experiment in Early Twentieth-Century Europe, edited by Mark Cornwall, 119–148, 2 nd ed. Exeter: University of Exeter Press, 2002. Prokop, Jan “‘Умepeшь зa Рoдинy’: дyxoвeнcтвo и вoeннaя пpoпaгaндa”. In Пepвaя миpoвaя вoйнa в литepaтypaх и кyльтype зaпaдных и южных cлaвян, edited by Л.H. Бyдaгoвa et al., 35–47. Mocквa: Инcтитyт cлaвянoвeдeния Ран, 2004. Przewóska, Maria C. Polska i jej twierdze bytu. Skład zasad narodowej samowiedzy twórczej. Katowice: Odrodzenie, 1923. Przybyszewski, Stanisław. Szlakiem duszy polskiej, 2nd ed. Poznań: Ostoja, 1920. Puşcariu, Sextil “Locul limbii române intre limbile romanice”. In Academia Română. Discursuri de recepţiune 49 (1920). Rasiński, Faustyn. Polska etnograficzna. Petrograd: Lesman, 1916. Redlich, Alexander. “Serbien”. Der Panther 3 (1915), no. 12: 1444–1447. Romer, Eugeniusz. Études de civilisation comparée (Polonais, Ruthènes et Allemands). Paris: Barrère, [1920]. Rzymowski, Wincenty. Podboje Rosji. Warszawa: Prawda, 1915. Rzymowski, Wincenty. Niemcy a koalicja. Warszawa: Wende & S-ka, 1916. Schmidt, Wacław. Czego chce Rosya? Lozanna: Przegląd Polityczny, 1917. Schneider, Uwe and Andreas Schumann (eds.). Krieg der Geister. Erster Weltkrieg und literarische Moderne. Würzburg: Königshausen & Neumann, 2000. Seton-Watson, Robert W. Europe in the Melting-Pot. London: Macmillan, 1919. Seton-Watson, Robert W. The Spirit of the Serb. London: Nisbet, 1915. Smal-Stockyj, Stephan. “Das ukrainische Volk und die ukrainische Sprache”. Die Ukraine 3 (1921), no. 6: 131–137. Stanoyevich, Milivoye S. “The Ethnography of the Yugo-Slavs”. The Geographical Review 7 (1919), no. 2: 91–97. Strausz, Adolf. Großbulgarien. Leipzig: Mitteldeutscher Buch- und Lehrmittelverlag, 1917. Szelągowski, Adam. Niemcy, Austrya i kwestya polska. Warszawa–Lublin–Łódź: Gebethner i Wolff, 1915. Tollmien, Cordula. “Der ‘Krieg der Geister’ in der Provinz – das Beispiel der Universität Göttingen 1914–1918”. Göttinger Jahrbuch 41 (1993). Tomaschiwskyj, Stephan. Die weltpolitische Bedeutung Galiziens. München: Bruckmann, 1915. Die Ukraine und der Krieg. Denkschrift des Bundes zur Befreiung der Ukraine. München: Lehmanns, 1915. Vasović, Miroslav. Jovan Cvijić. Naučnik, javni radnik, državnik. Novi Sad: Matice Srpska, 1994.

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Verax [Mykhailo Lozynskyj]. Der Weltkrieg und das ukrainische Problem. Ein Beitrag zur Aufklärung der gegenwärtigen politischen Lage. Berlin: Kroll, 1915. Wakar, Włodzimierz. Stanowisko dziejowe Polaków (Warszawa: Jakowicki, 1915). Waldeyer-Hartz, Wilhelm von. Die im Weltkriege stehenden Völker in anthropologischer Betrachtung. Rede am 15. Oktober 1915. Berlin: Heydemann, 1915. Wasilewski, Leon. Die Ostprovinzen des alten Polenreichs (Lithauen u. Weissruthenien – die Landschaft Chełm – Ostgalizien – die Ukraina). Kraków: Naczelny Komitet Narodowy, 1916. Wasilewski, Zygmunt.O życiu i katastrofach cywilizacji narodowej. Wstęp do rozważań nad programowemi zagadnieniami doby obecnej. Warszawa: Perzyński, Niklewicz & S-ka, 1921. Wójcik, Stanisław. Cechy narodowe Polaków w polemikach okresu międzywojennego (neoromantyków – piłsudczyków – narodowych demokratów). Lublin: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Marii Curie-Skłodowskiej, 1989.

Foreign Language Studies at the University of Graz (Austria-Hungary) during the First World War: A Micro-Historical Exploration of Cultural War Responses Andreas Golob When nations went to war, conceptions of their own culture were also mobilized, and scholars in relevant disciplines could hardly avoid statements in favor of nationalist propaganda, either as a result of public claims or as a self-­imposed consequence of personal conviction. The usual suspects can be found in the fields of historiography, sociology, geography or the native language studies of each nation state.1 Reactions of those who had sincerely studied the cultural achievements of enemy nations, and who had disseminated their findings among students and the general public before 1914 remain in the background still. Stuart Wallace has looked at the problems that scholars of German experienced in Britain.2 A decade ago, Holger Klein has provided an encompassing overview on social as well as cultural aspects of English studies in Austria following the main publications, but there is little information on the practices in academic and popular education.3 His regional example seems especially rewarding and demanding, regarding Austria-Hungary’s complex multilingual and multinational nature. Linguistics and literary studies could be even interpreted as the key to the multinational Habsburg monarchy in theory and practice. This may not be true, as far as scholars of English or French studies are concerned, but all the more when it comes to Italian studies and Slavonic studies that were more or less directly involved in the conflicts b­ etween

1 Anne Rasmussen, “Mobilising Minds”, in Civil Society, ed. Jay Winter, vol. 3 of The Cambridge History of the First World War, ed. Jay Winter and the Editorial Committee of the International Research Centre of the Historial de la Grande Guerre (Cambridge and New York: Cambridge University Press, 2014), 395, 397, 400–404, 407–408, 677. 2 Stuart Wallace, War and the Image of Germany: British Academics 1914–1918 (Edinburgh: John Donald, 1988). 3 Holger Klein, “Austrian (and some German) Scholars of English and the First World War”, in The First World War as a Clash of Cultures, ed. Fred Bridgham (Rochester, NY and Woodbridge: Camden House, 2006), 245–280.

© Verlag Ferdinand Schoningh, 2019 | doi:10.30965/9783506788245_004

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the nationalities of the Habsburg monarchy.4 Historians of the relevant fields have hitherto preferred a bio-bibliographical approach or correspondence to outline the development of the disciplines.5 Most of them (except for Klein) have focused on scholarly output and found of course that knowledge production in wartime can be circumscribed with the commonplace motto inter arma silent musae.6 Especially in the field of Slavonic studies the loss of wellestablished structures after the collapse of the Habsburg monarchy has been interpreted as a painful watershed.7 The comparative approach adopted in this article is justified because of the close relations between the modern languages that formed some sort of community of fate. This perception is not only true for the period under observation, when the interest in modern languages was collectively organized in periodicals such as Archiv für das Studium der neueren Sprachen und Literaturen (published since 1846) which encompassed Romance languages, English and German. It is still common in categorizations of humanities.8 In order to sketch a considerable range of responses, the multifaceted microhistorical example of foreign linguistic and literary studies at Graz University provides a particularly suitable setting. Situated in the southeast of presentday Austria, it was close to Italian and Slavic-speaking regions. The ideological outcome of this situation was a pronouncedly German-nationalist atmosphere among the large majority of German-speaking professors. The professorate recruited offspring not only from universities in the Habsburg Monarchy, but also from scholarly centres throughout the German-speaking world and was well integrated in this network of high-quality research and teaching. NonGerman­academic systems and cultural endeavors, especially from the side of the aspiring Slavic and Italian nationalities of the Habsburg monarchy, but also in Great Britain and France were repeatedly destructively criticized and deemed to be inferior to the elite of German science and scholarship. ­Corporate 4 Cf. for a glimpse: Klaus Lichem, “Europeismo e nazionalismo negli scritti e nelle lettere di G.I. Ascoli e H. Schuchardt”, in Parallela 5. Atti del VI Convegno italo-austriaco dei linguisti, ed. Maurizio Dardano, Wolfgang U. Dressler and Claudio di Meola (Rom: Bulzoni editore, 1995), 57–64. 5 Karl Acham, ed., Sprache, Literatur und Kunst, vol. 5 of Geschichte der österreichischen Humanwissenschaften, ed. Karl Acham (Wien: Passagen Verlag, 2003). Bernhard Hurch, ed., Bausteine zur Rekonstruktion eines Netzwerks, 4 vols. (Graz: Institut für Sprachwissenschaft der Universität Graz, 2009, 2010, 2012 and 2015). 6 Acham, Sprache. 7 Stanislaus Hafner, “Geschichte der österreichischen Slawistik”, in Beiträge zur Geschichte der Slawistik in nichtslawischen Ländern, ed. Österreichische Akademie der Wissenschaften (Wien: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1985), 79. 8 Klein, “Scholars”, 247, 261–262. Acham, Sprache, 231–322.

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self-consciousness arose from the high standard of German science and scholarship in their unity and academic freedom in the nineteenth century.9 Inaugural speeches of rectors at the beginning of their one-year term did not only present current questions in their areas of research, but also approached recent problems of society. On one of these occasions, the physiologist Alexander Rollett (1834–1903), the first full professor in his field (1863–1903) and maybe the most renowned rector of Graz University until the First World War, was convinced that the standard of German universities could not be reached by Italian, French and English efforts, let alone by Slavic or Hungarian ones.10 The students – future scientists and scholars, civil servants and teachers – participated in creating and strengthening this myth. A comparison of English and German universities in a student newspaper of 1878 heralded that German universities had contributed to the foundations of German culture by promoting science and scholarship on the one hand and by “national education” on the other. In comparison, English universities were only based on repetitive learning and would constitute a mere biotope of the elites. Sports like rowing were ridiculed and German fencing was clearly preferred.11 In an editorial, prominently placed in the first issue of the same magazine, the low scientific and scholarly worth of French universities was criticized.12 Since Graz University traditionally attracted students from the south-eastern hereditary countries, the majority of German native speakers met with equally well organized minorities of Italian and Slavic students. Nationalist sentiments in Styria and on the nearby Balkans sometimes erupted in student tumults of Slavic students and were exacerbated through hysterical reactions of the local authorities.13 Despite these tensions, Romance studies as well as Slavonic studies had their rightful institutional refuges at the university, partly because of pure scholarly interest, partly, because the state demanded the education of loyal teachers for the non-German-speaking or mixed-language areas. In order to get familiar with the structures, it will be necessary to illustrate the origins of the ­relevant 9 10 11 12 13

[Arnold] Luschin v. Ebengreuth, Die Universitäten: Rückblick und Ausblick: Rede, gehalten bei der Rektors-Inauguration an der K. K. Karl-Franzens-Universität zu Graz am 4. November 1904 (Graz: Leuschner & Lubensky, 1905), 11–14, 17. Alexander Rollett, Über Zweck und Freiheit des akademischen Lebens: Rede, gehalten am 6. December 1894 bei der Inauguration des Rectors der Karl-Franzens-Universität in Graz (Graz: Leuschner & Lubensky, 1895), 8, 35–36, 11. H. K. [Heider, Karl?], “Englische Universitäten”, Deutsche Hochschule, December 1, 1878, 5–6. N.N., “Die ‘Deutsche Hochschule’”, Deutsche Hochschule, October 19, 1878, 1–2. Wolfgang Eismann, “‘Slavische Studentenexzesse’ in Graz im Dezember 1872”, in Slowenen und Graz / Gradec in Slovenci, ed. Ludwig Karničar and Andreas Leben (Graz: Institut für Slawistik der Karl-Franzens-Universität Graz, 2014), 133–144.

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seminars and to introduce the scholars who played a role in the course of the First World War. The first associate professor for Italian linguistics and literature came into office in 1854, before Hugo Schuchardt (1842–1927) became the first full professor of Romance studies in 1876.14 Especially the latter proved to be the perfect candidate for this position, because he concentrated on Italian dialects on the one hand, and, on the other, he had already gained a substantial standing in the scholarly community and was able to substantially contribute to French, Albanian and Romanian studies, as the appointment committee praised the candidate. Indeed he would range among the most important linguists of his time and become one of the founding fathers of Creole studies, stressing individualistic developments as well as cultural contexts of languages and vigorously fighting against positivist, systematic as well as seemingly scientific approaches.15 In 1901, Schuchardt’s successor, Julius Cornu (1849–1919), finally initiated a seminar for Romance studies at the beginning of his time in office.16 In addition, a special seminar for Italian linguistics and literature was established in 1909, headed by Anton(io) Ive (1851–1937), an associate professor (1893–1922) who had supported Schuchardt’s teaching and research.17 His use of Italian as a language of instruction generated anonymous protest in the local German-national press, and Schuchardt loyally backed his colleague in this case.18 Besides Ive, Adolf Zauner (1870–1940) who held his full professorship from 1911 to 1939, represented Romance studies with a focus on French studies during the First World War.19 The origins of scholarly Slavonic studies were closely linked with Gregor Krek’s (1840–1905) career. Commissioned as a lecturer (Privatdozent) in 1867 he was promoted to associate professor in 1870 and full professor in 1875. In 1892 he finally had the structures of a seminar for Slavonic philology at his command.20 Pure science as well as practical issues in favor of the Slavic population played a decisive role in this process, as well, and it is interesting that German was seen as a lingua franca among the students of diverse Slavic 14 15 16 17 18 19 20

Johannes Lehner, “Die Geschichte der Romanistik an der Universität Graz” (Hausarbeit, Karl-Franzens-Universität Graz, 1980), 26–27, 32–33, 36–38. Alf Sommerfelt, “Hugo Schuchardt”, in Portraits of Linguists: A Biographical Source Book for the History of Western Linguistics, 1746–1963, ed. Thomas A. Sebeok (Westport: Greenwood Press, 1976), 504–511. Lehner, “Geschichte”, 54. Ibid., 44–46, 59. Ibid., 46–47, appendix 5.4.4. Ibid., 42. E.[rich] Prunč and L.[udwig] Karničar, Materialien zur Geschichte der Slawistik in der Steiermark (Graz: Institut für Slawistik der Universität Graz und Österreichisches Ost- und Südosteuropa-Institut, 1987), 126, 128, 131, 141.

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l­anguages and consequently used as a language of instruction.21 Krek’s successor Matija (or German: Matthias) Murko (1861–1952) who had served from 1902 to 1917, left Graz in wartime for the prestigious chair in Leipzig and moved on to Prague two years after the end of the war.22 His closest colleague in wartime was associate professor Rajko Nahtigal (or German: Nachtigall, 1877–1958) who had succeeded Karel Štrekelj (1859–1912), the first associate professor for Slovene studies (1896–1912). When Nahtigal moved to Ljubljana in 1919, where a new university was established right after the end of the First World War, accompanied by his mentee Fran(z) Ramovš (1890–1952) who had earned his habilitation at the end of the war (see below), both were appointed full professors and completed the task of forging Slovene national culture with scholarly means.23 With this exodus the focus on South-Slavic linguistics and literature at Graz University came to a preliminary end.24 Last but not least, English studies were incorporated in 1893, when Karl Luick (1865–1935) was appointed associate professor. The seminar was founded in the same year, and in 1897, this first representative of the discipline who stayed in Graz until 1908, advanced to the rank of full professor. Albert Eichler (1879–1953) started his career two years before the outbreak of the First World War as an associate professor and was promoted full professor at the end of the war. He was still active during the Second World War and retired in 1946.25 Between these disciplines there were theoretical as well as practical alliances. Murko was among the editors of the periodical Wörter und Sachen (Words and Things, 1909–1944), initiated by Rudolf Meringer (1859–1931), the full professor of comparative linguistics (1899–1930), which tried to explicate connections between linguistics and material artefacts as well as practices. Practically all philologies from Indogermanic studies and classical philology to German studies and the analyzed foreign-language studies participated, and sometimes overtly competed, in this innovative and transdisciplinary c­ omparative 21 22 23 24

25

Stanislaus Hafner, “Die Slavistik an der Universität Graz bis 1918”, Anzeiger für Slavische Philologie 6 (1972): 5–6. Prunč and Karničar, Materialien, 150. Ibid., 162, 168. Hafner, “Slavistik”, 8, 11. Hafner, “Slavistik”, 7, 13. Stanislaus Hafner, Heinz Miklas and Eleonore Ertl, “Österreich”, in Beiträge zur Geschichte der Slawistik in den nichtslawischen Ländern, ed. Giovanna Brogi Bercoff, Pierre Gonneau and Heinz Miklas (Wien: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 2005), 46–53. Alois Kernbauer, “Die institutionelle Entwicklung des Englischunterrichts bzw. des Instituts für Anglistik an der Universität Graz vor dem Hintergrund der Entwicklung des Faches an den Universitäten der Habsburgermonarchie”, in 100 Jahre Anglistik an der Universität Graz, ed. Alwin Fill and Alois Kernbauer (Graz: Akademische Druck- und Verlags­ anstalt, 1993), 73–81, 99–107.

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a­ pproach which became the basis of academic cultural anthropology in Central Europe.26 Eichler founded the Neuphilologenverein for these disciplines (a local variant of similar associations established in the German-speaking countries before).27 Together with Zauner he collaborated, though unsuccessfully, to finance phonetic equipment.28 Finally, the scholar of English studies also cared for the institutional remains of Slavonic studies at the end of the First World War.29 The following detailed assessment will refer to scholarly output, contributions in the daily press and pamphlets, but also to records of the university archives. It is clear that there was pressure and constant observation from the side of the usual suspects. Robert Sieger (1864–1926), full professor of geography in Graz between 1905 and 1926, for instance, welcomed patriotic statements of German professors for English studies with satisfaction and also publicly praised Hugo Schuchardt explicitly.30 The reasons for these positive judgements can provide first examples belonging to the public and patriotic sphere. The undoubtedly most renowned philologist, Hugo Schuchardt, member of numerous academies, neither hesitated to indulge in fierce conflicts with colleagues, nor did he avoid statements in national quarrels before the war.31 A selection of his writings from 1914 to 1919 will sketch his point of view. In the 26

27 28 29 30

31

Fritz Lochner von Hüttenbach, “Die Grazer Schule: Meringer und Schuchardt”, in Österreichische und deutsche Beiträge zur Ethnographie und Dialektologie Frankreichs: Ein französisch-deutsch-österreichisches Projekt, ed. Klaus Beitl and Isac Chiva (Wien: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1992), 69; Ruth Schmidt-Wiegand, “‘Wörter und Sachen’: Forschungsrichtung – Forschungsinteresse – Forschungsaufgabe, in Ibid., 21–44. Hafner, “Slavistik”, 8, 10. Kernbauer, “Entwicklung”, 107. Lehner, “Geschichte”, 42. Universitätsarchiv Graz (Graz University Archives, UAG), Faculty of Philosophy, no. 1763 ex 1918/19. Robert Sieger, “Zwei Welten”, in Aus der Kriegszeit für Friedenstage: Gesammelte Aufsätze von Dr. Robert Sieger Professor an der Universität Graz, ed. Robert Sieger (Graz and Leipzig: Leuschner & Lubensky, 1916), 64; Idem, “Kriegsstimmungen und Kriegsschriften”, in Ibid., 11–12. E.g. Hugo Schuchardt, Textes théoriques et de réflexion (1885–1925), ed. Robert Nicolaï and Andrée Tabouret-Keller (Limoges: Éditions Lambert-Lucas, 2011); Theo Vennemann, Terence H. Wilbur, Hugo Schuchardt, Schuchardt, the Neogrammarians and the Transformational Theory of Phonological Change: Four Essays (Frankfurt/Main: Athenäum, 1972); Hugo Schuchardt, Gegen R. Meringer (Graz: Leykam, 1911). Hugo Schuchardt, An Theodor Gartner: Zum 70. Geburtstag (4. November 1913): Deutsche Schmerzen (Graz: Styria, 1913); Idem, Tchèques et Allemands: Lettre à M *** (Paris: H. Welter, 1898); Idem, Dem Herrn Franz von Miklosich zum 20. November 1883: Slawo-Deutsches und Slawo-Italienisches (Graz: Leuschner & Lubensky, 1884).

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first year of the war the scholar actively engaged in polemics against French and English as languages of cultural and academic discourse. His pamphlet Deutsch gegen Französisch und Englisch (i. e. German versus French and English) achieved no less than three editions within a few months. In this polemic, Schuchardt countered English and French lies on German barbarism, demanded a conscious and exclusive use of purified, sophisticated German in speech, handwriting as well as in print, and rebutted English and French fashions.32 He focused on the “archenemy” or “universal enemy” England and especially admonished women who were addicted to foreign fashions and were keen on conversation in foreign languages.33 In early 1915, he admonished German scholars to solely use their mother tongue at conferences. According to his appeal in the periodical of a German association for language cultivation, the leading standard of German scholarship would “force” non-German scholars to at least understand German.34 On the other hand, Schuchardt also rebutted what he called “chauvinist” exaggeration. For instance, he uttered his opinion that typescripts like so called “Latin” or “German” scripts were only pragmatic means and not necessary to underline national character – on the contrary, the adoption of Latin script could spread German ideas even more widely.35 The article was published in the Graz newspaper Tagespost (Daily Mail), a widely read medium with a German-national tendency. 1915, when Italy entered the war Schuchardt’s activities peaked, and his polemic texts clearly outnumbered scholarly articles. In his remarks “From the Heart of a Scholar of Romance Studies” he regretted that Italy, the Arcadian destination of German desire, the “land where lemons blossom”, had taken the anti-German side.36 Polemics and analysis mingled in this manifesto. In his satirical introduction on the one hand, he recalled Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749–1832), the first German “spy”, and his many intellectual successors who had exploited Italy in favor of their inspiration. Vices like blind “ambition”, “greed” and “hallucinations” had driven the Italian educated classes in the camp of Germany’s enemies.37 With the German art historian Georg D ­ ehio (1850–1932) he concluded that “hatred of Germans” would make scholarly

32 33 34 35 36 37

Hugo Schuchardt, Deutsch gegen Französisch und Englisch (Graz: Leuschner & Lubensky, 1914), 5–6, 17–19, 21–22, 19–20. Ibid., 23, 26–28. Hugo Schuchardt, “Sprecht deutsch auf wissenschaftlichen Tagungen!” Zeitschrift des Allgemeinen deutschen Sprachvereins 30/2 (1915): 50. Hugo Schuchardt, “Über deutsche Druckschrift”, Tagespost, February 18, 1914. Hugo Schuchardt, Aus dem Herzen eines Romanisten (Graz: Leuschner & Lubensky, 1915), 3. Ibid., 4.

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studies in Italy impossible for German scholars for generations. Not submissive initiatives towards reconciliation, however, but German pride would be necessary to solve the situation.38 On the other hand, his argument included definitions of “culture” and “civilization” which were quite different in German and Western as well as Italian thought.39 In an interesting analogy to scholarly approaches he characterized the heirs of the Romans as superficial “people of the word” (“Wortmenschen”), whereas the Germans would be realistic “people of things” (“Sachmenschen”).40 In this respect, Italians were even simpler-minded than the French: the latter at least demanded elaborate phrases; the former, however, could be emotionally incensed by “single words”, even by mere stirring attributes, such as “‘sacred heroism’ – ‘sacred wishes’ – [and sardonically] ‘sacred egoism’”. Schuchardt also connected rude Italian character with its expression in language: for instance, the term “traditore” (i. e. traitor) could “kill like a hand grenade”; in comparison, the French translation “traître” seemed like a “miserable weakling”. In fact, the war proved to be an enormously interesting field for linguists, because words did matter a lot, meanings of words changed and the context of these changes were clearly visible. To illustrate his views he chose the specific meaning of “irredento” (i. e. literally unredeemed), emphasizing that to his mind the Italian language was much more in danger in Corsica than in Southern Tyrol or Dalmatia where German and Slavic populations dominated.41 Schuchardt’s final reflections were again dedicated to the question whether science and scholarship would be impeded in and especially after the war. The scholar was optimistic as far as the achieved state of scholarship was concerned, because the standard would not be affected. On the other hand, progress would be hampered definitely due to the limited access to edited and non-edited sources. Cooperation was also primarily interpreted in this context. Intellectual curiosity would find new topics, however, and to a certain extent, as demonstrated above, the war would also offer new insights. In the special case of Romance linguistics with its broad and manifold variety of single languages, German scholars had taken the lead, before their Italian colleagues had reached mastery in the discipline themselves. Details could therefore be left to the indigenous scholars. German linguistics as a supra-discipline would observe and evaluate the results or change the object of interest, that is, would shift from one language to another.42 Finally, Schuchardt addressed an 38 39 40 41 42

Ibid., 4–5. Ibid., 6. Ibid., 8. Ibid., 9–10. Ibid., 11–12.

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emotional problem. According to him, German scholars of Romance studies would increasingly loose “love” and identification with their objects under investigation. Only distanced rational approaches would remain. He concluded that Italian scholars of Romance studies would have to walk on a solitary path, and that German offspring in the field would vanish.43 Melancholically, the probably resentful linguist ended his deliberations with a bitter farewell to Italy.44 By the way, the income generated with the volume was to be donated in support of the troops fighting against Italy. In the periodical Wissen und Leben (i. e. knowledge and (everyday) life), based in neutral Switzerland, Schuchardt finally found a forum which addressed an educated but not necessarily scholarly audience. Schuchardt’s regularly published texts stood between literary works and other essays. In an initial “open letter” to the citizens of neutral states, he explained why he cared for contemporary politics and the war at all, besides his late scholarly ambitions.45 According to him the “war of states” was logically also “one of nations”, and the latter was one “of languages”. To understand a language essentially also meant to get familiar with the “ethnic soul”. To assess self-judgements of nations and their views or stereotypes of other nations could raise “ethnopsychology” (“Völkerpsychologie”) to some kind of a comparative “psychological ethnology” (“psychologische Völkerkunde”). This system which was not explained in detail would be limited due to the usually heterogeneous character of nations, though.46 Contemporary languages were also the most eminent key to the history of languages, because immediate observation had its undisputable merits. Insofar, Schuchardt had catapulted himself from the history of languages to their present. In his own opinion he had achieved the reunion of knowledge and (everyday) life (i. e. daily practice), as the title of the periodical suggested.47 In the same year, an article named “Some Philology” repeated motives like the discrepancies between Corsica and Italian-speaking regions on the periphery of the Habsburg monarchy. In the following, the linguist loyally characterized the special and indeed unique traits of the Habsburg monarchy as a “great laboratory”, as he had done before the war, and still believed in Austria-Hungary’s future. If the Habsburg monarchy allegedly adhered to medieval structures, as critics maintained, Italy would actually not represent the modern national state but rather an outdated imperialistic model from ancient history.48 43 44 45 46 47 48

Ibid., 12–14. Ibid., 14–15. Cf. in general: Klein, “Scholars”, 265. Hugo Schuchardt, “Offener Brief”, Wissen und Leben 8/19 (1915): 609–610. Ibid., 609–611. Ibid., 612–613. Hugo Schuchardt, “Ein wenig Philologie”, Wissen und Leben 9/4 (1915): 154–155.

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After a lengthy pro-Austrian interpretation of the wording in the pre-war contract between the Habsburgs and the Savoyards he attacked Émile Durkheim (1858–1917) for his onslaught on Germany and accused the French sociologist of a wrong and biased, widely circulating translation of the beginning of the Deutschlandlied that would underline German imperialism.49 As a linguist he was principally optimistic that his argumentations would meet consensus among his colleagues, but he doubted that historians, scholars of international law, let alone scientists in ethnopsychology who would do research on rumors concerning atrocities in the war, could ever arrive at a shared judgement.50 After the war Schuchardt directed demobilizing “confessions and findings” against assumptions of German war guilt in the same forum. The scholar felt personally chastized and critically analyzed his own role, fearing that the peace treaties would be the root for just another war and bemoaning Europe as a “dying” continent.51 As a witness of the period from the 1860ies onwards, he (had always) tried to explain contemporary history from his professional linguistic and national angles which overlapped in his opinion. This so to speak pure perspective was sharply disconnected from military, political and economic dimensions. Mingling these approaches would be the explosive source of conflicts to his mind. Conscious of his national origin, Schuchardt fondly admired German material and immaterial historical heritage and the unification of the German countries to a powerful empire from a personal and participative view that showed traits of a general confession indeed, as the title suggested.52 Not pride, but anecdotes showing humane traits of his and historical personalities played the main role in these reflections. He disassociated himself from and to a certain extent abhorred the “inner” German militarism, and noted by the way that the same structures had existed “at least in Russia”.53 His genuine and publicly demonstrated “politics by means of language” (“Sprachpolitik”) formed the most important part of his personal guilt against this background. Since his childhood fascinated by foreign languages of all kind and by their power to create extensions in time and space, he combined intellectual and emotional virtues to study and compare them with his beloved mother tongue.54 In his field of Romance studies he had always favored Italy and Italian (especially in the framework of the Habsburg monarchy), but was quite indifferent when it 49 50 51 52 53 54

Ibid., 154–157, 157–158. Ibid., 158–160. Hugo Schuchardt, “Bekenntnisse und Erkenntnisse”, Wissen und Leben 13/5 (1919): 180. Ibid., 180–183, 186–188. Ibid., 184–185. Ibid., 188–189.

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came to French.55 It was true that he admired French art, scholarship and even lifestyle, but he despised the national and military “glory” of the “grrrrande [sic!] nation” and its aggressive political manifestation, which to his mind had caused the war in the first place.56 The same constellation was true for English literature and scholarship on the one hand and English political pride on the other.57 When it came to Austria, he had always believed in a positive outcome of the emancipation of the nationalities, but was disappointed at last. He also uncovered inconsequent arguments of the Czech who stressed the historical unity of Bohemia to avoid the independence of the German-speaking regions and who denied the same point of view, as far as Slovakia was concerned. In sum, he seemed to be embittered and to have lost his belief in a peaceful cooperation of the nationalities on the basis of humanistic ideals.58 He was, however, at least convinced not to be guilty himself, even when it came to “sins in thought”.59 Hesitation after reports about atrocities in Belgium had also changed into the conviction that the Germans were not better or worse than any other nation.60 It is noteworthy that Ernest Bovet (1870–1941), the editor of the periodical and a scholar of Romance studies himself, warmly praised Schuchardt for his scholarly achievement and his character in a footnote at the beginning of the text and acknowledged his endeavor to find truth in wartime, tragically without a chance to succeed, though. He also conceded that the “article is an upright document” but limited in its perception, because Schuchardt was not familiar with what Bovet called the “young France”. Accused of chauvinism in the same year by Oiva Johannes Tallgren (1878–1941), Schuchardt referred to the initially quoted pamphlet which was interpreted as an onslaught on French and English, and excused it as an argument in favor of German.61 The polemic text had only repeated views on the right to use one’s own mother tongue, earlier brought forward in the debates on artificial languages which were indeed a special concern of the scholar, as well.62 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62

Ibid., 193. Ibid., 194–196. Ibid., 196. Ibid., 191–193. Ibid., 197. Ibid., 197–198. Cf. Hugo Schuchardt, “Nochmals der Fall Bédier”, Neuphilologische Blätter: Zeitschrift des Weimarer Cartellverbandes philologischer Verbindungen an Deutschen Hochschulen 23/5 (1916): 158–161. Hugo Schuchardt, “Chauvinistisch”, Neuphilologische Mitteilungen 20 (1919): 76–78. Hugo Schuchardt, “Bericht über die auf Schaffung einer künstlichen internationalen Hilfs­ sprache gerichtete Bewegung”, Almanach der kaiserlichen Akademie der Wissenschaften 54 (1904): 281–296. Idem, “Die Wahl einer Gemeinsprache”, Allgemeine Zeitung (Augsburg and München, Supplement), October 7, 1901, 1–5. Idem, “Weltsprache und Weltsprachen”:

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Albert Eichler, the relatively young professor of English linguistics and literature, was the only professor of English studies in Austria who participated in “The Professors’ War”, as Klein claimed.63 His main general statement in the German-national Graz newspaper Tagespost, later also published in Zeitschrift für das Realschulwesen (Journal for the Middle School System), a periodical for the secondary school system which was – contrary to scholarly journals in the strict sense – a stronghold of political statements, he fiercely pleaded to fight off the military and propagandistic attack without restrain and to close the ranks of all native Germans, civilians or soldiers. His own “task” as a scholar in a relevant discipline was to observe all products of English literature right to the present day, not only the best known and admired achievements of the middle ages, but also works of minor importance which could also shed light on the “English spirit”. His argument remained quite factual, apart from some phrases showing disdain of the low standard of English education. Eichler’s perspective of the future finally proved to be pessimistic.64 In reviews towards the end of the war Eichler repeated his standpoint but rebutted simplistic views.65 Similarly to Schuchardt, his general aim was to preserve “positive ideals” and not to solely indulge in hatred against England. In his popular lectures Eichler placed practical contributions of interest, which have been neglected up to now.66 The university-extension movement which offered the well-established infrastructure of these presentations, served as an important regular and corporate channel of the university to communicate with the public, particularly via the educated elite in general and teachers (especially of secondary-school level) in particular. Initiated in 1898, its outline reflected the ideals of academic research and teaching, their independence of political, social and religious or confessional influences, as the first and foremost guidelines. After a break in the academic year 1914/15, when it became clear that the war would drag on, the committee for popular lectures decided to resume activities. The neutral conception of the courses changed immediately and thoroughly. The protocol of the session on November 15, 1915 reveals that the committee members actively encouraged conflict-related lectures.67 It is true that the impact during the war was moderate in terms of quantity and regional spread, but it is remarkable that the immediate hinterland of the

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An Gustav Meyer (Strassburg: Karl J. Trübner, 1894). Idem, Auf Anlass des Volapüks (Berlin: Robert Oppenheim, 1888). Schuchardt, “Miklosich”. Klein, “Scholars”, 248. Ibid., 258–261, 276. Ibid., 260. Klein only dwelled on “public lectures” in Germany: Ibid., 254, 258. UAG, Popular Lectures: Protocols.

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Italian front was integrated, as well. Eichler’s highly relevant lectures took place in Graz, but he also left the city for a trip to north-western Styria where heavyindustry plants were concentrated and where it was obviously necessary to boost the morale of the ordinary workforce. The audience was not huge admittedly, but the educated elite may have initiated some sort of snowball-effect. On average the scholar attracted sixty-five listeners, the maximum being 150 and the minimum 37.68 The presentations of national economists were markedly better frequented, the ones in history and geography slightly. Apart from a general lecture on English pronunciation (academic year 1918/19), the scholar drew on Herbert G. Wells (1866–1946) to depict the British state in present and future (1915/16), extensively mocked the English gentleman (1915/16 and 1916/17) and took a stern position against Baconian Theory (1917/18). To compare, he had given two presentations on William Shakespeare (1564–1616) right after he had been appointed to chair at Graz.69 It is obvious that he was the most committed philologist in the program until the end of the war, probably due to his conviction as a former secondary-school teacher that he had been before his appointment. The mood against Great Britain may have played a role, as well, given that the committee for popular lectures closely followed public demand. Fortunately, two lectures led to publications highlighting their main aspects. The three-part popular lectures on the English gentleman were published in the Zeitschrift für die österreichischen (in this volume: deutschösterreichischen) Gymnasien, the leading forum of grammar schools in 1919.70 In the introduction of his text he spoke of “special bitterness” in general and especially of those who had devoted personal or professional interest to Great Britain. All “honest” attempts to promote understanding among Germans and Englishmen, the “most extraordinary” nations in technical and cultural terms, had failed; “heart’s blood” had been wasted in vain, also from “representatives of English studies at our universities”. This was of course certainly not the fault of the German side that had tried “honestly”. “Ridiculous and childish” admiration of the English ruling class, “often” to be found among Germans in the nineteenth century and indeed until 1914, had totally disappeared with the war. “Despising and warning voices” had begun to change the attitudes in the twenty or thirty years prior to the war. Eichler lastly defined his aim to “critically survey” the high self-esteem of the English gentleman. Essentially, he tried to balance or 68 69 70

UAG, Popular Lectures: Financial records (subventions and ticket sale). UAG, Popular Lectures: Register of lectures. Albert Eichler, “Der Gentleman in der englischen Literatur”, Zeitschrift für die deutschösterreichischen Gymnasien 65 (1919): 257–298, 540–565. For rests of the oral presentation mode e.g.: Ibid., 289.

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reinforce, respectively, personal and political judgements or verdicts on this basis. As a “philologist and historian of literature” he promised to use lots of literary evidence as well as social-guidance manuals, essays and (auto)biographical material.71 The word, to begin with, itself an example of “hermaphroditism” and the result of “linguistic rape” from the side of the outside Norman “master class”, paradigmatically showed the “far-reaching blend” of the Anglo-Saxon tribe with the Normans, who were characterized as “feared romanized pirates of Nordic lineage”, led by duke William of Normandy (ca. 1028–1087) whom Eichler described as “audacious as well as devious”.72 It becomes clear at this early stage that Eichler used some sort of (pseudo-)scientific wording, opposed to Schuchardt’s vocabulary. The scholar’s broad and detailed narrative was not without positive references to gentlemanly ideals, especially in Shakespeare’s works which he certainly admired from the bottom of his heart.73 In particular in “gentle Shakespeare[’s]” dramas he found responsible, “stoic”, “brave, straight and honest” philanthropes, “wisdom”, “clemency”, “loyalty” and last but not least first traces of definitions that included higher learning “in the German [that is in the most encompassing] sense of the word” on the one hand and “outwardly manners” (like in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries) on the other. The scholar centred on these “moral” components of the term which began to dominate in “more democratic” early modern England, whereas judicial definitions remained in the background.74 “False sophistications”, however, also occurred in this period and materialized in the – peculiarly so called – “melancholic gentleman”. Without doubt or reflection, the scholar attributed this pathological turn and “addiction-like” behavior to French influence and saw parallels with “spleeny” traits right into the twentieth century.75 The same – actually atypically English – origin of vices was true of the Stuart age with its superficial, “unthoughtful”, “shameless and wasteful luxury” which made the ruling elite incapable of conducting “national politics”. “Unreasonable” and “unfruitful absolutism” finally generated the first “English imperialist”, Oliver Cromwell (1599–1658), as its antithesis.76 Honorable minds which still existed, retreated to the countryside as “retired gentlemen” and were lauded, whereas Eichler damned their corrupted and indeed “decayed” counterparts, the

71 72 73 74 75 76

Ibid., 257–259. Ibid., 259–260, cf. 287–288, 291. Ibid., 261, 263–268. Ibid., 260–261, 272–273, 288. Ibid., 270–271. Ibid., 275–276, 278.

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“­dandy-like, fashionable, inwardly hollow, or even half-rotten” Stuart courtiers who represented “abuse” and “aberration” of the ideal.77 When wealth became more decisive due to typically English pragmatism, by trend less educated merchants were generally despised.78 “Mercantilism” (“Krämergeist”) was also a characteristic verdict for the puritan model of the middle class which Eichler connected with England’s imperialistic and pharisaic as well as remorseless and “unstoppable” cultural “mission”, disguised in “lies on personal liberty” in past and present.79 At least in the eighteenth century this kind of “merchant-gentleman” was educated by periodicals like The Tatler or The Spectator and authors such as Jonathan Swift (1667–1745) and Daniel Defoe (1660–1731) who forced him to be a usable member of an increasingly enlightened and generally educated society. Eichler favorably compared this phenomenon with its outdated (and partly impoverished) forerunners, but finally classified these successful individuals with Defoe as parvenus who had enforced their integration into the elite. In particular, mercantile resentment against pure scholars bore “dangerous” fruits in the nineteenth century when higher education was “abused” as an “old-fashioned” institution of knowledge reproduction and disputable education of character, where sports played an overestimated role.80 “Taste” in manners gained ground in the course of the eighteenth century at last and took the form of outright disguise to conceal ruthless egoism. Eichler interpreted the corresponding dress codes as elaborately foolish, dandy-like “trivia” (“Kleinigkeiten”) which were especially vivid in the early nineteenth century and survived until the twentieth, as described by Herbert G. Wells (whose works formed a special interest of Eichler, too). The professor explicitly cited George IV (1762–1830) and Edward VII (1841– 1910) in this context and emphasized that the latter’s policy was responsible for the preconditions of the World War.81 A “literary gentleman” like Sir Walter Scott (1771–1832) was an exception to the rule of this “diplomatic version of the gentleman”.82 It was also at this point of the storyline that “the bell tolled for the landed gentleman in England”. Industrialization and “unhealthy” urbanization led to an alienation from the “healthy” relationship to the formerly “beloved old sod”. A “new class of factory-owners, shareholders, speculators” propagated utilitarianism and “‘classical’ national economy” which would only understand the wealth of a nation as a result of “egoistic zeal to satisfy wishes 77 78 79 80 81 82

Ibid., 277–280, 286–288. Ibid., 262, 273, 275. Ibid., 280–282. Ibid., 282–289. Ibid., 290–294. Ibid., 295.

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of each individual” at the cost of others. In his preliminary conclusion at this decisive watershed Eichler stated that the gentleman in the best sense of the word had become “uprooted”, in particular regarding the adherence to any social class. Only wealth counted, manners and superficial education completed the “Gentleman according to the English notion”, as he had sceptically named his oral lecture.83 After the “passing” of the country gentleman in a traditional sense, Charles Dickens (1812–1870) sketched egoistic as well as old-fashioned survivals on the one hand and troublemakers with more or less philanthropist motives on the other, whereas William Makepeace Thackerey (1811–1863) showed late gentlemanly “heroism”.84 “Hard, independently acting and aggressive men” began to prevail, however, and made thriving pragmatic commerce. Falsehood connected with fears to lose one’s temper in a tyrannous public or to be blackmailed reigned the day.85 In John Ruskin’s (1819–1900) writings Eichler observed contemporary criticism and racial engineering as a cure.86 George Bernard Shaw (1856–1950), Herbert G. Wells and John Galsworthy (1867–1933) reinforced Eichler’s criticism. Shaw’s superficial “snob” indulged in exclusive elitism and was part of a “civilization of sport and commerce”.87 Wells’ view of gentlemen who “degenerated” into an “athletic prostitute”, of a jeunesse dorée who was unfit for the challenges of the future (after the anticipated World War), and of “petrified gentlemen” closely corresponded with Eichler’s argument of cultural decline.88 Galsworthy offered an eminent testimony of hollow education at English universities that Eichler deemed to be hotbeds of “conservatism”, hostile towards original thoughts and pure scholarship.89 The resulting narrow elite, consisting of bodies rather than minds, stood behind remorseless British imperialism. Eichler emphasized that the gentlemanly ideals were an exclusive code of conduct within the nation and that they were not binding when dealing with members of other nations.90 For the scholar it was finally a pending question whether the high casualties of officers in the World War would set an end to gentlemanly chauvinism. At least he hoped that the new facts would lead to a more humane outline of British politics, as for instance Wells’ criticism had already imagined and who had the last word.91 In general, 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91

Ibid., 296–297. Ibid., 541–544. Ibid., 544, 548–549. Ibid., 553–554. Ibid., 554–555. Ibid., 557, 560. Ibid., 561–562. Ibid., 563–564. Ibid., 564–565.

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Eichler’s perspective on the moral deficiencies of contemporary Great Britain, generally perceived as the principal and scrupulous warmonger, corresponded with the more radical views of his colleagues that Klein has illustrated.92 In a later version, entitled The Gentleman. Character – Development – Decay, extended and reused in then so called Vorlesungen für Jedermann (i. e. Lectures for Everyone) in the Second World War, further radicalization is evident.93 The dominance of dandies, “snobs” and “cads” was stressed more pronouncedly.94 What is more, racial overtones in the discussion of the linguistic origins of the term and anti-Jewish sentiments which mingled with damnations of Cromwellian capitalism and imperialism, showed the radicalizing influence of national-socialism, and the hopes of the earlier version had vanished. Shortly, the professor of English studies only concluded decidedly that it would be a negative verdict rather than an honor to be called a gentleman.95 In his treatise on Baconian Theory Eichler marched out to attack patriotic pseudo-scholarly minds, which had conspired to crush Shakespeare’s myth.96 The periodical wherein Eichler had published his general views on the war (see above) offered a forum for his first response, as well.97 Finished in spring 1918, explicitly connected with popular lectures (in Vienna and Graz) again and therefore addressed to the educated public, the actual and full text belonged to the final phase of the war when the academic landscape seemed to be strengthened against warmongers and propagandists.98 Eichler clearly took the side of those who argued in favor of Shakespeare and stressed methodological seriousness and logic in his encompassing discussion of the arguments and counterarguments on the one hand, but also displayed his patriotism and his strict criticism concerning England during the war.99 His partly lengthy notes, which directly and regularly referred to his principal Baconian antagonist, were vigorously and partly rudely polemic or satirical.100 Eichler’s target with all its ­obscurity and abstruseness is, however, maybe also typical of the abuse of scholarship in times of war and of political and patriotic strains that 92 93

Klein, “Scholars”, 254–258. Albert Eichler, Der Gentleman: Wesen – Wachsen – Verwesen (Graz: Steirische Verlags­ anstalt, 1943), 103, 90–94. Cf. Klein, “Scholars”, 248, 270. 94 Eichler, Gentleman (1943), 61–64, 102; Klein, “Scholars”, 255–256. 95 Eichler, Gentleman (1943), 10–12, 14, 50; 49; 102. 96 Albert Eichler, Antibaconianus: Shakespeare-Bacon? Zur Aufklärung seines Anteils an der Erneuerung Österreichs (Wien and Leipzig: Karl Harbauer, 1919). Cf. Klein, “Scholars”, 260, 277 (counted among the scholarly products). 97 Eichler, Antibaconianus, 5–6. 98 For the conditions of origin: ibid., 3, 105–106, 116, 118. 99 Ibid., 7. 100 E.g. ibid., 13–14, 20, 27–29, 32, 34, 38–40, 43–45, 52, 56, 69–71, 90, 101, 104–106, 114.

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s­ cholars had to face. The “cultural mission” of the Austrian Baconians and their ­association, newly founded by the amateurish, high-ranking civil servant A ­ lfred von Weber-Ebenhof, was connected with disdain against professional representatives of English studies who would be “England-friendly and -dependent”­ and enemies of Germany and Austria-Hungary. The constant appeal to the uninformed and propagandistically manipulated public made a qualified response necessary, as Eichler justified his brochure.101 For the Graz professor Francis Bacon (1561–1626) actually showed (by the way anti-gentlemanly!) English traits like egoism, greed, imperialism, deceitfulness, and low standards of education.102 This way Eichler rebutted Baconian propaganda in secondary schools and assured the self-consciousness of the academic experts.103 In comparison to Eichler and Schuchardt who willingly took part in intellectual warfare, Matija Murko chose a more balanced point of view. Despite his principally perfect loyalty to the monarchy and its multinational ideas, a ­perspective which met with his broad scholarly interests, he was subjected to surveillance by the Habsburg police and his utterances were censored at the beginning of the war.104 National strife made Slavonic studies seemingly suspicious in itself. This precarious situation, however, obviously did not intimidate the scholar who also remained a member of the Serbian Academy of Science. When he was invited to write on Serbian intellectual life to inform a wider audience, he was conscious of his contribution to “delicate contemporary questions” and felt obliged to this “enlightening” task as an expert. Especially in this field his commitment seemed necessary, because the audience showed utmost ignorance, as the editor of the brochure series had supposed according to the foreword and as Murko himself criticized in a short remark at the end of the text.105 The balanced account followed Murko’s own works as well as latest reviews from Serbia itself.106 Particularly critically, he only referred to “extreme Serbian nationalism” which he integrated into the general E ­ uropean tendency, though. 101 102 103 104

Ibid., 102–107. Cf. ibid., 109–110. Ibid., 114. E.g. M.[atthias] Murko, Geschichte der älteren südslawischen Literaturen. [Leipzig 1908] Mit einem Anhang: Zur Kritik “Der älteren südslawischen Literaturen”. An die Leser des “Archivs für slawische Philologie”. Unveränderter Nachdruck, compiled by Rudolf Trofenik (München: Rudolf Trofenik, 1971), III-VI, 1–5, 7–10, 12, 15, A7–8, 10–14, 24, 28, 32. For the measures against him: Josef Matl, “Mathias [sic!] Murko (1861–1952)”, in Neue Österreichische Biographie ab 1815, vol. XIII, ed. Viktor Cerha et al. (Zürich, Leipzig and Wien: Amalthea, 1959), 176. 105 Matthias Murko, Das Serbische Geistesleben (Leipzig and München: Süddeutsche Monatshefte G.m.b.H., 1916), 4, 52. 106 Ibid., 6–7, 51; Murko, Geschichte, VI.

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The ideal of medieval heroes played the destructive role of a “national gospel” in this process. The epigones of this heroic poetry in mid-nineteenth-century Serbia were only chauvinist nationalists in Murko’s eyes and could neither compete with their ancestors nor with their European contemporaries.107 A radical, democratic counterpart emerged with Russian realistic models since the 1870ies and was characterized more sympathetically.108 Stereotypes that referred to the young Serbian state, its rude and inconsequent politics, for instance, were in line with the general contemporary perspective.109 On the other hand, Murko also emphasized recent progress in the educational system or in literary criticism and applauded trends towards “rationalism” and more moderate as well as reconciliatory “patriotism” among young authors.110 Heroic poetry also bore the potential of links with the World War – as indeed a Graz cultural anthropologist found nearly five decades after the outbreak of the war.111 It is remarkable that Murko who was the only philologist, who conducted research on immediately war- and military-related phenomena, remained on the shore of pure scholarship in this field on the whole. Murko’s deep interest and extraordinary commitment began one year after the Habsburg monarchy had annexed Bosnia and Hercegovina and reached its first peak when the Balkan Wars erupted.112 In ground-breaking, minutely documented field studies, technically equipped according to the state of the art and financed by the Viennese Imperial Academy of Sciences, he collected material on the performance of folksongs in the Balkans that proved to be of lasting importance, as both musicology and comparative literature s­ tudies 107 Murko, Geistesleben, 25–26, 29. 108 Ibid., 30–40. 109 Ibid., 30–33. 110 Ibid., 41–43. 111 Leopold Kretzenbacher, “Heldenlied und Sarajevomord: Ein serbisches Epenfragment aus der Vrlika (1960)”, Südostforschungen 20 (1961): 248–259. 112 Matthias Murko, “Die Volksepik der bosnischen Mohammedaner (1909)”, in Europäische Heldendichtung, ed. Klaus von See (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1978), 385–398; cf. the introductory essay, 19–20, 25–26. Cf. Murko, Geschichte, 9–10, 197–206. Matthias Murko, “Bericht über eine Bereisung von Nordwestbosnien und der angrenzenden Gebiete von Kroatien und Dalmatien behufs Erforschung der Volksepik der bosn­ischen Mohammedaner”, Sitzungsberichte der Kais.[erlichen] Akademie der ­Wissenschaften in Wien: Philosophisch-Historische Klasse 173/3 (1913): 3–52. Idem, “Bericht über eine Reise zum Studium der Volksepik in Bosnien und Herzegowina im Jahre 1913”, Sitzungsberichte der Kais.[erlichen] Akademie der Wissenschaften in Wien: PhilosophischHistorische Klasse 176/2 (1915): 3–50. Later: Idem, “L’état actuel de la poésie populaire épique yougoslave”, Le monde slave 5/2 (1929): 326–328. Idem, Tragom srpsko-hvratske narodne epike: Putovanja u godinama 1930–1932, 2 vols. (Zagreb: Jugoslavenska Akademija Znanosti i umjetnosti, 1951).

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have ­acknowledged.113 In the context of this article it is interesting to ask which socio-cultural implications Murko found in his excursions. His tour in 1912 led him to Croatia, north-western Bosnia as well as northern Dalmatia. In Croatia the scholar began with exploring former war zones where battles against the Ottomans had taken place. This proved to be not rewarding, however, because the fights were temporally all too distant. Traditions vanished – a tendency, which would be observed in all regions, even in the strongholds of Bosnia and Hercegovina.114 Closer to the Bosnian border, self-conscious traditions of families from the military border came to the fore more clearly and teachers as well as priests, or, more generally speaking, the intellectual elite, were cited as informants and agents of national memory.115 Murko encountered a region deeply scarred by war as well as gangs until the occupation of Bosnia (1878) and observed that contemporary politics and military actions also inspired folksongs, but did so rarely.116 He for one was more interested in medieval and early modern examples anyway, in their literary as well as linguistic characteristics or in details of performance, respectively. Comparatively he did not only use Muslim but also Roman Catholic and Orthodox sources.117 Sometimes, soldiers were committed singers, but their number was not significant.118 The more esteemed Bosnian performers peopled cafés and the market place, but they were also invited to reading clubs, seigneurial houses and even to Austrian military barracks or manoeuvre sites.119 Consequently the audience encompassed all classes, and also Christians.120 The elite “admired the heroes who remained so glorious that they were magnified in songs”.121 History was idealized in general. The fiercer the depicted conflict the more popular the song proved to be. There was also scepticism and doubt when exaggerations occurred, though.122 Murko judged the songs against the cultural and national background: “Military spirit is still vivid in the population, and human life is extremely undervalued”. The crime rate remained high and duels had begun to disappear only after the o­ ccupation.123 His last d­ estination, Northern 113 Walter Graf, “Murko’s Phonogramme bosnischer Epenlieder aus dem Jahre 1912”, in Bei­ träge zur Musikkultur des Balkans I.: Walther Wünsch zum 65. Geburtstag, ed. Rudolf Flotzinger (Graz: Akademische Druck- und Verlagsanstalt, 1975), 41–76. Hafner, “Slavistik”, 11. 114 Murko, “Bericht” (1913), 6–7, 33–34, 36–37, 48–49; cf. Murko, “Bericht” (1915), 9–10. 115 Murko, “Bericht” (1913), 8–9, 12, 42. 116 Ibid., 32, 40. 117 Cf. ibid., 9–12. 118 Ibid., 6–7, 15–16, 36. 119 Ibid., 17–18. 120 Ibid., 18–19. 121 Ibid., 27. 122 Ibid., 30–31. 123 Ibid., 32.

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­ almatia, was especially famous for female singers.124 Murko also discovered D that young people were particularly keen on heroic poetry on the region or its adjacent areas, that Catholic worship strengthened memories in heroes who had fought against the Muslims whose remains were still conspicuous, and that some sort of a memorial landscape had developed around the battlefields and their protagonists.125 In culturally and economically better developed Croatia, the singers recited in secondary schools for boys as well as girls, however with disputed impact, and a selection of songs was distributed to a wider public via print.126 Just after the Balkan Wars of 1912/13, Murko travelled through the northeast of Bosnia and the regions around Sarajevo and Mostar. With Hercegovina he visited the “classical” epicentre of “heroic songs”.127 There, heroism was more and more disconnected from confession or religion, respectively. There was “respect for each form of ‘heroism,’” and in one case Murko was told that, “he [a not identified historical personality] was a hero and that’s it”.128 Murko was also surprised to find female performers in Muslim (!) populations “who recited heroic songs (…) to educate their sons in a military spirit”, but also to simply entertain them.129 At the southern border Murko could observe relatively “new songs” due to recent military conflicts in the region. The scholar was indeed disappointed that in particular orthodox pieces thematized the conflicts immediately before the occupation, the Russo-Japanese War or the Balkan Wars of 1912/13 on the basis of literary sources.130 Oral elaborates only covered skirmishes: folksongs therefore obviously tried to approach large events with intimate and immediate case studies.131 In improvised preludes, the singers either expressed Serbian nationalism or loyalty towards the “the emperor from Vienna” or the “reverend government”.132 The Viennese victory over the Turks was extremely present in Christian practices.133 This fact let Murko conclude that this “massive distribution” was able to “characterize the psyche particularly of Catholic South-Slavs best”.134 Some songs originated in the military, were edited by intellectual civilians and then reintroduced in the army, as examples 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134

Ibid., 42–43. Ibid., 48–50. Ibid., 4–5. Murko, “Bericht” (1915), 3. Ibid., 5, 29–31. Ibid., 12, cf. 40. Ibid., 9, 24; 36–37, 39, cf. 43. Cf. ibid., 41–42. Ibid., 25. Ibid., 21. Ibid., 35.

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in Hercegovina and Montenegro suggested.135 Calendars offered channels of distribution, as well.136 In sum, organized propaganda obviously played a more significant role. It finally becomes clear that folksongs had indeed promoted military values and that longstanding traditions existed in the Balkans. In so far, continuity rather than change can be observed. A closer look however can also detect the changes that Murko observed and openly published in the proceedings of the Academy. According to Murko’s conclusion in his 1915 presentation, heroic songs had more precisely prepared the population for traditional warfare. Dwelling on this problem of outdated heroism and the sense of the word, he found that nostalgic views particularly among the Muslims missed heroic duels which were part of a specific code of honor so to say.137 Machine guns and (military) “discipline” (of mass armies) were seen as phenomena of a “degenerated” present. The new, Austrian colonists were deemed responsible for these changes. The songs had lost their functions as instructions for warfare and as incitement.138 It is remarkable that Murko uttered such criticism against the Austrian regime in 1915 and in a scholarly periodical. The scholar was lastly even brave enough to participate in a call for papers of the pacifist organization Para pacem. In his short answer he championed circulation of publications, journeys, contacts in person and through letters to (re)introduce intellectual discussion after the war and recommended that “the character of the monarchy as a federation of diverse nations” and the value of each of those nations should be appreciated.139 Murko’s commitment concerning heroic poetry allows us to proceed to the modalities of academic teaching. For Graz University, Manfred Bauer has principally found very little immediate influence of the war in the course catalogues, as far as the given titles were concerned.140 It is certainly also true that it was the university’s decided goal to guarantee best possible teaching and research in war, also with the argument that functioning universities kept the

135 136 137 138 139

Ibid., 42–43. Ibid., 37. Ibid., 45. Ibid., 47. Matthias Murko, “Rundfrage des Verbandes ‘Para pacem’ über das gegenseitige Verhältnis der Völker nach dem Kriege”, Verbandsmitteilungen May 1916/3–4: 19–20. 140 Manfred Bauer, “Auswirkungen des Ersten Weltkriegs auf die Lehre an der Universität Graz”, in Universitäten in Zeiten des Umbruchs: Fallstudien über das mittlere und östliche Europa im 20. Jahrhundert, ed. Elmar Schübl and Harald Heppner (Wien and Berlin: Lit Verlag, 2011), 179–182; cf. Klein, “Scholars”, 250, 264.

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public calm and optimistic.141 (Quite) comprehensive claims by the High Command of the Army for compulsory courses and examinations on military science were rejected in 1917, as they had been before the war.142 Most decidedly, the Faculty of Philosophy saw a pronouncedly “political” influence that had to be fought off.143 An expertise of Eduard Martinak (1859–1943), full professor of pedagogics (1904–1930) and a participant of the occupation campaign in Bosnia and Hercegovina, postulated that sentiments could not be furthered by intellectual education and that promoting nationalism would equal outright abuse and alienation of university studies. Furthermore, the Faculty stressed that military matters were fairly represented in the lectures anyway, in particular in historiographical disciplines, and that an overwhelming number of students had joined the military, a considerable number of them even voluntarily. On the basis of tradition and legislation, the document confirmed the state of universities as “cradles of science and scholarship”. Freedom of research, teaching and learning would have to be observed as closely interconnected ideals. Freedom of learning would actually even produce alumni who were perfectly fit to make mature, responsible and determined decisions as military leaders. Last but not least, functioning universities had to guarantee the education of civil servants of all kind. Commissioning teachers with military and consequently authoritarian backgrounds, who were not accustomed to freedom of learning, would mean nothing different than an “overthrow” of the current and well approved university system. Finally, it is interesting that the professors commented that the Faculty of Theology which educated parsons, could achieve a more comprehensive impact than the three worldly faculties (of Law, Medicine and Philosophy), and the teaching staff wondered, why the theologians had not even been addressed. Apart from mentioned and indeed notorious historiography in the strict sense, there were also more or less subtle traces of influence in philological studies. To begin with the highest level of academic formation, Matija Murko supervised one thesis on the Heroic Duell ( Junačni Mejdan) in South Slav Folk Poetry and another one on Weaponry in Slovene, Croatian and Serbian Folk Epics.144 The assessment of the first thesis solely focused on philological ­criteria. 141 Andreas Golob, “Berührungspunkte zwischen Universität und Militär am Beispiel Graz: Grundprobleme eines Forschungsfeldes”, in Universitäten in Zeiten des Umbruchs: Fallstudien über das mittlere und östliche Europa im 20. Jahrhundert, ed. Elmar Schübl and Harald Heppner (Wien and Berlin: Lit Verlag, 2011), 167. 142 Bauer, Auswirkungen, 184–186; Golob, Berührungspunkte, 174. 143 UAG, Rectorate, no. 1003 ex 1916/17, statement of the Faculty of Philosophy against the claims by the High Command of the Army. 144 UAG, Faculty of Philosophy: Examination protocols, nos. 933 and 944.

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The second one was rather interpreted as a contribution to the “historiographical knowledge on weapons” and found differences between Slovenes and the others Slavs as well as Turkish influences in the south. As surviving seminar papers show, aspects of heroic poetry were also integrated in this form of advanced teaching. Both doctoral theses originated from research in seminars which generally showed considerable scholarly quality.145 As for the supply of courses in general, it is certainly true that the war limited teaching facilities. Lessons of the lector of French, the Swiss-born Louis Dupasquier (born 1870) who became an Austrian citizen in 1908, were curtailed, as the course catalogues show.146 Lacking demand due to the decreasing student population might have been responsible rather than ideological reasons. Edward Arthur Parker (born 1889), a British citizen who had not only given language instructions but also had informed about English culture, luckily left Graz in 1914 and only came back for a short time in 1920 to successfully finish his doctoral studies.147 In the same field, Eichler included his results on Baconian Theory in a lecture in the winter term 1918/19. It is finally striking that new special language courses emerged on the list of university courses, too. Apart from Romanian, introduced by Zauner in the winter terms 1914/15 and 1915/16, especially Albanian, offered as a new subject in the summer term 1916, deserves a closer look.148 This integration had scholarly as well as political dimensions at a time when parts of Albania were occupied by Austria-Hungary. At the end of 1916, the Albanian Literary Commission that had quite intensively cooperated with the Viennese Imperial Academy of Sciences, invited Rajko Nahtigal to participate in creating a general Albanian standard language on the basis of two dialects. The necessary fieldtrip to Central Albania, scheduled for spring 1917, was “especially welcomed” by the Graz military command, as the scholar who had already participated in studies on the Albanian language, emphasized in the foreword of his report.149 The predominantly practical survey must be interpreted against the national background, an ­underdeveloped 145 Ludwig Karničar, “Forschungsanfänge der Grazer Slowenistik”, in Slowenen und Graz / Gradec in Slovenci, ed. Ludwig Karničar and Andreas Leben (Graz: Institut für Slawistik der Karl-Franzens-Universität Graz, 2014), 273, 279–280. 146 Dupasquier taught between 1902 and 1920. For the following courses in this paragraph: Graz, Karl-Franzens-Universität, Akademischer Senat, Verzeichnis der Vorlesungen an der Karl-Franzens-Universität zu Graz (Graz: Verlag des Akademischen Senates, winter term 1913/14 - summer term 1919). 147 Klein “Scholars”, 249. UAG, Faculty of Philosophy: Examination protocols, no. 924. 148 Also mentioned by Hafner, “Slavistik”, 11. 149 R.[ajko] Nachtigall, Die Frage einer einheitlichen albanischen Schriftsprache (Graz: Leykam, 1917), III, 15, 19–20, 25–26.

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philological infrastructure, a narrow and therefore weak educated elite, and the obstacles of war, as Nahtigal conceded himself.150 As a “cultural being” (“Kulturmensch”) and a “friend of the unspoiled people” he wished the efforts to “naturally” lead to a satisfactory result soon.151 “Local patriotism” had to be replaced by a national perspective.152 A mixture, so to speak an “artificial product” had to be avoided, because such elaborates seemed to be less vital, not capable of further development and lastly inacceptable for the population. Most naturally, the central-Albanian dialect of Elbasan could function as a bridge between the dialects dominating in the north and the south, respectively, which were influenced by neighbouring languages.153 Literary as well as linguistic sources, especially folk literature, had to be systematically collected under scholarly scrutiny and discussed with the help of a forum for national as well as international academic debate.154 Biblical texts, accepted by the Holy See, were seen as a key to reach the people, and popular enlightenment guided by the elite should follow.155 In comparison with the codification of Serbo-Croatian Nahtigal concluded that it would be possible to compromise, not without conflict, tough.156 “Liberty” from the “yoke of slavery” would accelerate the cultural and historical as well as natural development of a general national language.157 With his analysis, the Graz scholar took part in Habsburg endeavors in cultural and scholarly diplomacy (which were not brought to an end, though). This active service can lead to a last response, that is, active military service. It must not be forgotten that the younger representatives of the disciplines were principally obliged to serve in the military, and it was obviously seen as a duty as well as an honor to serve actively.158 In general, the relationship between the civil (and academic) elite and the military elite grew quite close in the last half century before the World War, and was in fact comparable to the better known situation in Prussia.159 Albert Eichler, for instance, stressed that he was found unfit for service before the war, and when this ‘verdict’ was revised in 1914, it was the university administration that initiated his deferment 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159

Ibid., IV-V. Ibid., VI. Ibid., 1. Ibid., 2, 19–20. Ibid., 13–14. Ibid., 16–17, 14, 29. Ibid., 17–18, 28. Ibid., 20–21. Rasmussen, “Mobilising Minds”, 401–402. Golob, “Berührungspunkte”, 167–172.

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from military service and not he himself.160 Among his immediate colleagues, Adolf Zauner deserves to be mentioned, because he participated in the war as a volunteer, before he returned to the university to focus on topics that had interested him before the war. The Faculty of Philosophy asked him and five other colleagues who were at the same stage of their academic careers, to briefly highlight their military efforts. These reports should be part of a tribute to the students under arms to call the military commitment of the university before the curtain and to show solidarity with the academic offspring that actively served in the army. The envisaged brochure was not completed, but served as a basis for official commemoration from the side of the university in the 1920ies. Zauner told the dean that he joined the army on August 30, 1914 as a member of the newly established voluntary bicycle corps, based in Graz.161 From his garrison in Gorica/Gorizia he returned to his university activities for the winter term 1914/15. After this interruption of his military service he was created commander of a bicycle company in Trieste. His obviously not very spectacular military career ended at the end of the year 1915 after he had been ill and convalescent, respectively, for over half a year. His self-esteem as a military servant of the Habsburg monarchy can be judged from his justification when a replacement for his courses was discussed.162 Zauner maintained that his military service would be more important than academic teaching in the current circumstances. Fran Ramovš’s commitment was more dramatic, as the record of his habilitation in Slavonic studies, composed by his mentor Rajko Nahtigal, shows.163 Right after his graduation and during his qualification process until the end of 1917 he engaged in civil and military activities, “eager to make sacrifices” in his “service for the fatherland”. First, he became a member of the voluntary medical corps that the Faculty of Medicine had established at the university. After a short interlude in the militia (Landsturm) at the turn from 1914 to 1915, he returned to the university as unfit for service. Fit again in June 1915, he began his training as a one-year-volunteer in Ljubljana and was detached to the Italian front after three months where he commanded a first aid post. Totally exhausted due to the extreme conditions at the front, he fainted at the end of January 1916 and was sent to several hospitals. A year later, having lost sixteen kilograms, he was finally released as invalid, with heart and lung ailments, but still fit enough to serve in the militia administration in Ljubljana. Besides 160 161 162 163

UAG, Personal files: Albert Eichler. UAG, Faculty of Philosophy, no. 493 ex 1917/18. Lehner, “Geschichte”, 127. UAG, Personal files: Franz Ramovš.

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his exhausting duties, which are also obvious in his letters from the front, he wrote articles and especially a larger treatise on grammatical as well as dialectal problems in early Slovene prints on the basis of collections that he had compiled before the war.164 Finally, the referee emphasized that the candidate had not participated in “political agitation”, but only served his country and pure scholarship. To conclude, the war hit all academic generations, from Schuchardt, the professor emeritus, to Ramovš, one of the youngest members of the faculty. A fairly wide range of journalistic, semi-scholarly, quasi-diplomatic and military activities can be observed. The educated elites were predominantly addressed. Schuchardt and Eichler most significantly expressed their encompassing and more or less propagandistic statements, thereby reinforcing stereotypes which had already existed before the war. Both scholars stayed alert until and also after armistice. Eichler even revived and radicalized his activities in the Second World War with a clear tendency towards national-socialism. On the contrary, Murko kept his balanced view and approached war as a historical phenomenon in research and teaching. In general, the modifications in teaching were apparently not outright propagandistic, but there seem to have been some evident responses, either showing a direct reaction or contractions as well as extensions of the pre-war facilities. .



Works Cited



Unpublished Archive Materials



Published Works

Graz University Archives (UAG), Personal files: Julius Cornu, Louis Dupasquier, Albert Eichler, Anton(io) Ive, Karl Luick, Eduard Martinak, Matthias Murko, Rajko Nachtigall, Franz Ramovš, Hugo Schuchardt, Robert Sieger, Karl Štrekelj, Adolf Zauner. UAG, Popular Lectures: Protocols, register of lectures and financial records (subventions and ticket sale), 1913/14–1918/19. UAG, Faculty of Philosophy: Registers of items received, files and examination protocols, 1913/14–1918/19. UAG, Rectorate: Registers of items received and files, 1913/14–1918/19.

Acham, Karl, ed. Sprache, Literatur und Kunst. Vol. 5 of Geschichte der österreichischen Humanwissenschaften, edited by Karl Acham. Wien: Passagen Verlag, 2003. 164 For the letters: Rajko Nahtigal, “Prof. Ramovš o sebi od doktorata do docenture v Gradcu”, Slavistična revija 5–7 (1954): 9–40.

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Bauer, Manfred. “Auswirkungen des Ersten Weltkriegs auf die Lehre an der ­Universität Graz”. In Universitäten in Zeiten des Umbruchs: Fallstudien über das mittlere und östliche Europa im 20. Jahrhundert, edited by Elmar Schübl and Harald Heppner, 177–186. Wien and Berlin: Lit Verlag, 2011. Eichler, Albert. “Der Gentleman in der englischen Literatur”. Zeitschrift für die deutschösterreichischen Gymnasien 65 (1919): 257–298, 540–565. Eichler, Albert. Antibaconianus: Shakespeare-Bacon? Zur Aufklärung seines Anteils an der Erneuerung Österreichs. Wien and Leipzig: Karl Harbauer, 1919. Eichler, Albert. Der Gentleman: Wesen – Wachsen – Verwesen. Graz: Steirische Verlags­ anstalt, 1943. Eismann, Wolfgang. “‘Slavische Studentenexzesse’ in Graz im Dezember 1872”. In Slowenen und Graz / Gradec in Slovenci, edited by Ludwig Karničar and Andreas Leben, 133–144. Graz: Institut für Slawistik der Karl-Franzens-Universität Graz, 2014. Golob, Andreas. “Berührungspunkte zwischen Universität und Militär am Beispiel Graz: Grundprobleme eines Forschungsfeldes”. In Universitäten in Zeiten des Umbruchs: Fallstudien über das mittlere und östliche Europa im 20. Jahrhundert, edited by Elmar Schübl and Harald Heppner, 163–176. Wien and Berlin: Lit Verlag, 2011. Graf, Walter. “Murko’s Phonogramme bosnischer Epenlieder aus dem Jahre 1912”. In Beiträge zur Musikkultur des Balkans I.: Walther Wünsch zum 65. Geburtstag, edited by Rudolf Flotzinger, 41–76. Graz: Akademische Druck- und Verlagsanstalt, 1975. Graz, Karl-Franzens-Universität, Akademischer Senat. Verzeichnis der Vorlesungen an der Karl-Franzens-Universität zu Graz. Graz: Verlag des Akademischen Senates, winter term 1913/14 – summer term 1919. [Course catalogues] H. K. [Heider, Karl?]. “Englische Universitäten”. Deutsche Hochschule, December 1, 1878, 5–6. Hafner, Stanislaus. “Die Slavistik an der Universität Graz bis 1918”. Anzeiger für Sla­ vische Philologie 6 (1972): 4–13. Hafner, Stanislaus. “Geschichte der österreichischen Slawistik”. In Beiträge zur Geschichte der Slawistik in nichtslawischen Ländern, edited by Österreichische Aka­ demie der Wissenschaften, 11–88. Wien: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1985. Hafner, Stanislaus, Heinz Miklas and Eleonore Ertl. “Österreich”. In Beiträge zur Geschichte der Slawistik in den nichtslawischen Ländern, edited by Giovanna Brogi Bercoff, Pierre Gonneau and Heinz Miklas, 27–87. Wien: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 2005. Hurch, Bernhard, ed. Bausteine zur Rekonstruktion eines Netzwerks, 4 vols. Graz: Institut für Sprachwissenschaft der Universität Graz, 2009, 2010, 2012 and 2015. Karničar, Ludwig. “Forschungsanfänge der Grazer Slowenistik”. In Slowenen und Graz / Gradec in Slovenci, edited by Ludwig Karničar and Andreas Leben, 267–285. Graz: Institut für Slawistik der Karl-Franzens-Universität Graz, 2014.

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Kernbauer, Alois. “Die institutionelle Entwicklung des Englischunterrichts bzw. des Instituts für Anglistik an der Universität Graz vor dem Hintergrund der Entwicklung des Faches an den Universitäten der Habsburgermonarchie”. In 100 Jahre Anglistik an der Universität Graz, edited by Alwin Fill and Alois Kernbauer, 40–147. Graz: Akademische Druck- und Verlagsanstalt, 1993. Klein, Holger. “Austrian (and some German) Scholars of English and the First World War”. In The First World War as a Clash of Cultures, edited by Fred Bridgham, 245– 280. Rochester, NY and Woodbridge: Camden House, 2006. Kretzenbacher, Leopold. “Heldenlied und Sarajevomord: Ein serbisches Epenfragment aus der Vrlika (1960)”. Südostforschungen 20 (1961): 248–259. Lehner, Johannes. “Die Geschichte der Romanistik an der Universität Graz”. Hausarbeit, Karl-Franzens-Universität Graz, 1980. Lichem, Klaus. “Europeismo e nazionalismo negli scritti e nelle lettere di G.I. Ascoli e H. Schuchardt”. In Parallela 5. Atti del VI Convegno italo-austriaco dei linguisti, edited by Maurizio Dardano, Wolfgang U. Dressler and Claudio di Meola, 57–64. Rom: Bulzoni editore, 1995. Lochner von Hüttenbach, Fritz. “Die Grazer Schule: Meringer und Schuchardt”. In Österreichische und deutsche Beiträge zur Ethnographie und Dialektologie Frankreichs: Ein französisch-deutsch-österreichisches Projekt, edited by Klaus Beitl and Isac ­Chiva, 61–84. Wien: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1992. Luschin v. Ebengreuth, [Arnold]. Die Universitäten: Rückblick und Ausblick: Rede, gehalten bei der Rektors-Inauguration an der K. K. Karl-Franzens-Universität zu Graz am 4. November 1904. Graz: Leuschner & Lubensky, 1905. Matl, Josef. “Mathias [sic!] Murko (1861–1952)”. In Neue Österreichische Biographie ab 1815, vol. XIII, edited by Viktor Cerha, Friedrich Funder, Ernst Haeusserman, Ludwig Jedlicka, Rudolf Kiszling, W.[ladimir] Sas-Zaloziecky, Kurt Skalnik, Alfred Weikert and Georg Zimmer-Lehmann, geleitet von Heinrich Studer, 173–183. Zürich, Leipzig and Wien: Amalthea, 1959. Murko, Matthias. “Bericht über eine Bereisung von Nordwestbosnien und der angrenzenden Gebiete von Kroatien und Dalmatien behufs Erforschung der Volksepik der bosnischen Mohammedaner”. Sitzungsberichte der Kais.[erlichen] Akademie der Wissenschaften in Wien: Philosophisch-Historische Klasse 173/3 (1913): 3–52. Murko, Matthias. “Bericht über eine Reise zum Studium der Volksepik in Bosnien und Herzegowina im Jahre 1913”. Sitzungsberichte der Kais.[erlichen] Akademie der Wissenschaften in Wien: Philosophisch-Historische Klasse 176/2 (1915): 3–50. Murko, Matthias. Das Serbische Geistesleben. Leipzig and München: Süddeutsche Monatshefte G.m.b.H., 1916. Murko, Matthias. “Rundfrage des Verbandes ‘Para pacem’ über das gegenseitige Verhältnis der Völker nach dem Kriege”. Verbandsmitteilungen May 1916/3–4: 19–20.

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Murko, Matthias. “L’état actuel de la poésie populaire épique yougoslave”. Le monde slave 5/2 (1929): 321–351. Murko, Matthias. Tragom srpsko-hvratske narodne epike: Putovanja u godinama 1930– 1932, 2 vols. Zagreb: Jugoslavenska Akademija Znanosti i umjetnosti, 1951. Murko, M.[atthias]. Geschichte der älteren südslawischen Literaturen. [Leipzig 1908] Mit einem Anhang: Zur Kritik “Der älteren südslawischen Literaturen”. An die Leser des “Archivs für slawische Philologie”. Unveränderter Nachdruck, compiled by Rudolf Trofenik. München: Rudolf Trofenik, 1971. Murko, Matthias. “Die Volksepik der bosnischen Mohammedaner (1909)”. In Europäische Heldendichtung, edited by Klaus von See, 385–398. Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1978. N.N. “Die ‘Deutsche Hochschule’”. Deutsche Hochschule, October 19, 1878, 1–2. Nachtigall, R.[ajko]. Die Frage einer einheitlichen albanischen Schriftsprache. Graz: Leykam, 1917. Nahtigal, Rajko. “Prof. Ramovš o sebi od doktorata do docenture v Gradcu”. Slavistična revija 5–7 (1954): 9–40. Prunč, E.[rich], and L. [udwig] Karničar. Materialien zur Geschichte der Slawistik in der Steiermark. Graz: Institut für Slawistik der Universität Graz und Österreichisches Ost- und Südosteuropa-Institut, 1987. Rasmussen, Anne. “Mobilising Minds”. In Civil Society, edited by Jay Winter. Vol. 3 of The Cambridge History of the First World War, edited by Jay Winter and the Editorial Committee of the International Research Centre of the Historial de la Grande Guerre, 390–417, 675–678. Cambridge and New York: Cambridge University Press, 2014. Rollett, Alexander. Über Zweck und Freiheit des akademischen Lebens: Rede, gehalten am 6. December 1894 bei der Inauguration des Rectors der Karl-Franzens-Universität in Graz. Graz: Leuschner & Lubensky, 1895. Schmidt-Wiegand, Ruth. “‘Wörter und Sachen’: Forschungsrichtung – Forschungsinteresse – Forschungsaufgabe. In Österreichische und deutsche Beiträge zur Ethno­ graphie und Dialektologie Frankreichs: Ein französisch-deutsch-österreichisches Projekt, edited by Klaus Beitl and Isac Chiva, 21–44, Wien: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1992. Schuchardt, Hugo.165 Dem Herrn Franz von Miklosich zum 20. November 1883: ­Slawo-Deutsches und Slawo-Italienisches. Graz: Leuschner & Lubensky, 1884. Schuchardt, Hugo. Auf Anlass des Volapüks. Berlin: Robert Oppenheim, 1888. Schuchardt, Hugo. “Weltsprache und Weltsprachen”: An Gustav Meyer. Strassburg: Karl J. Trübner, 1894. 165 Schuchardt’s publications are available at: http://schuchardt.uni-graz.at/werk, accessed April 30, 2016.

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Schuchardt, Hugo. Tchèques et Allemands: Lettre à M *** . Paris: H. Welter, 1898. Schuchardt, Hugo. “Die Wahl einer Gemeinsprache”. Allgemeine Zeitung (Augsburg and München, Supplement), October 7, 1901, 1–5. Schuchardt, Hugo. “Bericht über die auf Schaffung einer künstlichen internationalen Hilfssprache gerichtete Bewegung”. Almanach der kaiserlichen Akademie der Wissenschaften 54 (1904): 281–296. Schuchardt, Hugo. Gegen R. Meringer. Graz: Leykam, 1911. Schuchardt, Hugo. An Theodor Gartner: Zum 70. Geburtstag (4. November 1913). Deutsche Schmerzen. Graz: Styria, 1913. Schuchardt, Hugo. Deutsch gegen Französisch und Englisch. Graz: Leuschner & Lubensky, 1914. Schuchardt, Hugo. “Über deutsche Druckschrift”. Tagespost, February 18, 1914. Schuchardt, Hugo. Aus dem Herzen eines Romanisten. Graz: Leuschner & Lubensky, 1915. Schuchardt, Hugo. “Offener Brief”. Wissen und Leben 8/19 (1915): 601–613. Schuchardt, Hugo. “Ein wenig Philologie”. Wissen und Leben 9/4 (1915): 153–161. Schuchardt, Hugo. “Sprecht deutsch auf wissenschaftlichen Tagungen!” Zeitschrift des Allgemeinen deutschen Sprachvereins 30/2 (1915): 50. Schuchardt, Hugo. “Nochmals der Fall Bédier”. Neuphilologische Blätter: Zeitschrift des Weimarer Cartellverbandes philologischer Verbindungen an Deutschen Hochschulen 23/5 (1916): 158–161. Schuchardt, Hugo. “Bekenntnisse und Erkenntnisse”. Wissen und Leben 13/5 (1919): 179–198. Schuchardt, Hugo. “Chauvinistisch”. Neuphilologische Mitteilungen 20 (1919): 76–78. Schuchardt, Hugo. Textes théoriques et de réflexion (1885–1925), edited by Robert Nicolaï and Andrée Tabouret-Keller. Limoges: Éditions Lambert-Lucas, 2011. Sieger, Robert. “Zwei Welten”. In Aus der Kriegszeit für Friedenstage: Gesammelte Aufsätze von Dr. Robert Sieger Professor an der Universität Graz, edited by Robert Sieger, 63–68. Graz and Leipzig: Leuschner & Lubensky, 1916. Sieger, Robert. “Kriegsstimmungen und Kriegsschriften”. In Aus der Kriegszeit für Friedenstage: Gesammelte Aufsätze von Dr. Robert Sieger Professor an der Universität Graz, edited by Robert Sieger, 9–14. Graz and Leipzig: Leuschner & Lubensky, 1916. Sommerfelt, Alf. “Hugo Schuchardt”. In Portraits of Linguists: A Biographical Source Book for the History of Western Linguistics, 1746–1963, edited by Thomas A. Sebeok, 504–511. Westport: Greenwood Press, 1976. Vennemann, Theo, Terence H. Wilbur, Hugo Schuchardt. Schuchardt, the Neogrammarians and the Transformational Theory of Phonological Change: Four Essays. Frankfurt/Main: Athenäum, 1972. Wallace, Stuart. War and the Image of Germany: British Academics 1914–1918. Edinburgh: John Donald, 1988.

Switzerland and the Great War – 100 Years of Historiography Marcel Berni “Then it came down like a bolt of lightning from above: The war had begun!”1

∵ Introduction Even though Switzerland was not directly involved in World War One and remained neutral, economic ties to the parties at war had serious social, political, economic and cultural repercussions. According to the popular narrative, these tensions became manifest during the war, especially because of the fact that serving militiamen were left without financial security and the working class in the major cities felt alienated from the government and the army. The latter two collaborated in crushing a nationwide general strike in November 1918, the deepest crisis confronting the Swiss federal state in history. Shortly thereafter, a class struggle between the leftist working class and the established bourgeoisie took on a more concrete form, a tension that was only modified in around 1937 in the wake of the national socialist threat from Germany and Italy. Although direct acts of war did not occur within Switzerland, this small country in the middle of Europe was soon confronted with new challenges in the wake of the conflict. The impoverishment of a large part of the population and an advancing polarization within Swiss society became formative issues of the inter-war period. Although Swiss historians seldom challenge the importance of World War One, detailed studies have largely been absent and only started to emerge in the last few years in the context of the centenary.2 This renaissance has not yet 1 Jacob Ruchti, et al., Geschichte der Schweiz während des Weltkrieges 1914–1919: Politisch, wirtschaftlich und kulturell, Vol. 1: Politischer Teil (Bern: P. Haupt, 1928), 8. All translations, including the above, were made by the author of this article. In original: “Da fuhr es nieder wie ein Blitzstrahl aus der Höhe: Der Krieg brach los!” 2 In particular, regional studies have flourished, see for example: Erika Hebeisen, Peter Niederhäuser, Regula Schmid, eds., Kriegs- und Krisenzeit: Zürich während des Ersten Weltkriegs (Zürich: Chronos, 2014); Johannes Huber, ed., 1914–1918/1919: Die Ostschweiz und der Grosse

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produced a new overall view of Switzerland in World War One; Georg Kreis’ study “Island of Doubtful Security” is a rare exception.3 Historiographically speaking, World War Two overshadows its forerunner in Swiss history by far.4 Yet there are still grounds for optimism: Since the year 2000 more than 50 master’s or licentiate theses focusing on different aspects of Switzerland’s role in the First World War have been written. Additionally, the project “Switzerland in the First World War: Transnational Perspectives on a Small State in Total War”, supported by the Swiss National Science Foundation, promises to produce a new, transnational history.5 The aim of this paper is to investigate to what extent the Great War and related events of this period have found their way into Swiss national historical narratives. How have historians studied and interpreted the war? What kinds of images of the Great War predominate? And how have they been diffused? In doing so, the paper discusses the impact and consequences of the First World War on Swiss history from a national point of view. Naturally, historians over time have judged the war in somewhat different ways. This tendency can be observed in almost all countries, especially with regard to the breakout of the Second World War. But Switzerland promises to be an especially interesting case study for a variety of reasons. Firstly, it was linked geographically, economically and socially in interdependent relationships with other countries at war. Secondly, parts of the Swiss population have always studied its history idiosyncratically and a holistic perspective on the Great War promised different interpretations. Thirdly, the state of research has evolved in the more recent past, making it possible to incorporate the latest perspectives into larger narrative of Swiss history in general6 and about the Krieg, (St. Gallen: Historischer Verein des Kantons St. Gallen, 2014); Urban Fink, ed., Der Kanton Solothurn vor hundert Jahren: Quellen, Bilder und Erinnerungen zur Zeit des Ersten Weltkriegs (Baden: Hier und Jetzt, 2014); Otto Wicki, Anton Kaufmann, Der Erste Weltkrieg: Die Entlebucher an der Landesgrenze (Schüpfheim: Druckerei Schüpfheim, 2008). 3 Georg Kreis, Insel der unsicheren Geborgenheit: Die Schweiz in den Kriegsjahren 1914–1918 (Zürich: Verlag Neue Zürcher Zeitung, 2014). 4 See Roman Rossfeld, “1914–1918: Neue Zugänge zur Geschichte der Schweiz im Ersten Weltkrieg”, Schweizerische Zeitschrift für Geschichte 63 (2013): 337–342; Daniel Marc Segesser, “Nicht kriegführend, aber doch Teil eines globalen Krieges: Perspektiven auf transnationale Verflechtungen der Schweiz im Ersten Weltkrieg”, Schweizerische Zeitschrift für Geschichte 63 (2013): 364–366. 5 Rossfeld, Zugänge, 341–342; see also “Die Schweiz im Ersten Weltkrieg: Transnationale Perspektiven auf einen Kleinstaat im totalen Krieg”, Swiss National Science Foundation. Accessed August 6, 2015. http://p3.snf.ch/Project-141906. 6 Thomas Maissen, Geschichte der Schweiz (Baden: Hier und Jetzt, 2010); Volker Reinhardt, Die Geschichte der Schweiz: Von den Anfängen bis heute (München: Beck, 2011); André Holenstein, Mitten in Europa: Verflechtung und Abgrenzung in der Schweizer Geschichte (Baden: Hier und Jetzt, 2014); Georg Kreis, ed., Die Geschichte der Schweiz (Basel: Schwabe, 2014).

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First World War in particular.7 In fact, the year 2014 marks the completion of the “Historical Dictionary of Switzerland” after 25 years of work, costing more than 100 Million Swiss Francs.8

Early Studies

During the war the chief of the general staff authorized the production of a “Swiss War History”, which appeared in 12 booklets until 1935 and became an important source of information for regular soldiers.9 In a more academic context, the two Swiss historians Jacob Ruchti and Traugott Geering were the first scholars to study the role of Switzerland in the First World War. Although Ruchtis two-volume work “History of Switzerland in the World War 1914–1919” was essentially finished in 1920, it took another eight years for the publication of the first volume and ten for the second.10 While Ruchtis work is the first grand overview of Switzerland in this period, Geering focusses on commerce and industry.11 Ruchti wrote his work as a reminder for the Swiss people. By way of an introduction, he wrote: May [this] Swiss book contribute to our heeding the insistent teaching of the heavy past in order to strengthen the love of fatherland and to preserve the gratitude towards all the men who have stood in tumultuous, dangerous times at their posts or fallen as simple heroes while doing their duty!12

7

Roman Rossfeld, Thomas Buomberger, Patrick Kury, eds., 14/18: Die Schweiz und der grosse Krieg (Baden: Hier und Jetzt, 2014); Konrad J. Kuhn, Béatrice Ziegler, eds., Der vergessene Krieg: Spuren und Traditionen zur Schweiz im Ersten Weltkrieg (Baden: Hier und Jetzt, 2014); Kreis, Insel. 8 Marco Jorio, ed., Historisches Lexikon der Schweiz, (Basel: Schwabe, 2002–2014), also online, http://www.hls-dhs-dss.ch. For a dictionary in English see Leo Schelbert, Historical Dictionary of Switzerland (Lanham, Md: University Press of America, 2007). 9 Marcus Feldmann, Hans Georg Wirz, eds., Schweizer Kriegsgeschichte (Bern: E. Kuhn, 1916–1935). 10 Ruchti, Geschichte, Vol. 1, IX–X. 11 Ruchti, Geschichte, Vol. 1: Politischer Teil (Bern: P. Haupt, 1928), Vol. 2: Kriegswirtschaft und Kulturelles (Bern: P. Haupt, 1930); Traugott Geering, Handel und Industrie der Schweiz unter dem Einfluss des Weltkriegs (Basel: Schwabe, 1928). 12 Ruchti, Geschichte, Vol. 1, X. In original: “Möge [dieses] Schweizerbuch dazu beitragen, die eindringlichen Lehren der schweren Vergangenheit zu beherzigen, die Liebe zum Vaterlande zu stärken und die Dankbarkeit wachzuerhalten gegenüber all den Männern, die in wildbewegter, gefahrvoller Zeit auf ihrem Posten gestanden oder als schlichte Helden im Dienste der Pflicht gefallen sind!”

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Ruchtis work has been important and had a long-lasting influence on Swiss historiography. In fact, Konrad J. Kuhn and Béatrice Ziegler point out that the narrative that was established by Ruchti has endured and only been marginally altered during the 21st century.13 As Ruchti had wished, his main line of argument was well received by many authors. It states that the war posed a crucial test to Swiss society in different regards: Firstly, it lead to a cultural polarization between the German-speaking parts of Switzerland and the French speaking “Romandie”. Secondly, social tensions between the upper and the lower classes caused by inflation, military service and poor provisions led to a social polarization. This lead, thirdly, to a political polarization between the bourgeoisie and emerging left-leaning social-democratic parties.14 Furthermore, Ruchti indicates that the general strike could have had devastating effects “for the inner and outer security of the country”:15 News of the capitulation of the action committee [of Olten] and the utter failure of the revolutionary organization has been received in all parts of the land with great satisfaction. For three days the country had been hovering in such danger that the most important events abroad completely receded into the background and the message from the just concluded ceasefire on the western front could enthuse nobody. However, when the termination of the strike had been reported, a sigh of relief went through the people: democracy had triumphed over anarchy.16 Ruchti also indicated the danger of the Spanish fever that became apparent after the general strike was settled. Young soldiers were especially likely to be 13

Konrad J. Kuhn, Béatrice Ziegler, “Dominantes Narrativ und drängende Forschungsfragen: Zur Geschichte der Schweiz im Ersten Weltkrieg”, Traverse Zeitschrift für Geschichte 18 (2011): 123–124. For the state of the current research see Roman Rossfeld, Tobias Straumann, “Zwischen den Fronten oder an allen Fronten? Eine Einführung”, in Der vergessene Wirtschaftskrieg: Schweizer Unternehmen im Ersten Weltkrieg, eds. Roman Rossfeld, Tobias Straumann (Zürich: Chronos, 2008), 16–18. See also Sacha Zala, Krisen, Konfrontation, Konsens (1914–1949), in Kreis, Geschichte, 536–537. 14 See Kuhn, Ziegler, Narrativ, 123–124. 15 Ruchti, Geschichte, Vol. 1, 445. 16 Ruchti, Geschichte, Vol. 1, 451. In original: “Die Kunde von der Kapitulation des Aktionskomitees und vom völligen Misslingen des revolutionären Unternehmens wurde im ganzen Lande mit grosser Genugtuung aufgenommen. Drei Tage lang hatte das Vaterland in solcher Gefahr geschwebt, dass die wichtigsten Ereignisse im Ausland vollständig in den Hintergrund traten und über die Nachricht vom soeben abgeschlossenen Waffenstillstand an der Westfront niemand froh werden konnte. Als jedoch der Abbruch des Streikes gemeldet wurde, ging ein Aufatmen durch das Volk: Die Demokratie hatte über die Anarchie gesiegt.”

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v­ ictims of this pandemic.17 Ruchti also made reference to Swiss neutrality, which was officially declared at the outbreak of the war and was largely maintained, although sometimes for very pragmatic reasons, particularly concerning the supply of provisions.18 Ruchti and corps commander Eduard Wildbolz – who authored the third chapter “The Swiss Army” – attributed to the Swiss population in general and the army in particular a strong determination to defend their home soil: The historian may confidently assert that our system of military defense, founded on the readiness for self-sacrifice and the strong will of our people, has contributed crucially to the fact that Switzerland was spared the misery of war which raged for 41/2 [sic!] years in almost all of Europe. The people bow to these soldiers who repeatedly stood on the border for many months during the four and a half years of war suffering storm, bad weather and sunburn, true to their oath and their duty. They are entitled to the gratitude of their fatherland, and the acknowledgement of posterity and history.19 As indicated, Ruchti and Wildboltz saw the World War mainly as a European war. They also saw some complications in the person of the commanding General Ulrich Wille, whose sympathies for Germany were obvious.20 Indeed, as the commanding officer of the third army corps, Wille was previously responsible for the so called “Kaisermanöver”, a military maneuver that was orchestrated for the state visit of the German Emperor Wilhelm II in 1912.

Carl Spitteler as a Seminal Source

One of Ruchti’s main topoi of a lingual-cultural polarization within Switzerland had already been addressed by contemporaries. In 1914 the famous Swiss 17 Ruchti, Geschichte, Vol. 1, 58, 68, 454. 18 Ruchti, Geschichte, Vol. 1, 32–48, 82–97. 19 Ruchti, Geschichte, Vol. 1, 80–81. In original: “[D]er Geschichtsschreiber darf wohl feststellen, dass unsere auf die Opferwilligkeit unseres Volkes gegründeten und aus dessen Willen hervorgegangen Wehreinrichtungen in entscheidendem Masse dazu beigetragen haben, dass die Schweiz vom Kriegselend, das 41/2 Jahre [i. O.] lang in fast ganz Europa wütete, verschont geblieben ist. Das Volk verbeugt sich vor diesen Soldaten, die während der vierundeinhalb Kriegsjahre wiederholt viele Monate lang an der Grenze gestanden, in Sturm, Wetter und Sonnenbrand, getreu ihrem Eide und ihrer Pflicht. Sie haben Anspruch auf den Dank des Vaterlandes, auf die Anerkennung der Nachwelt und der Geschichte.” 20 Ruchti, Geschichte, Vol. 1, 25–28. Ulrich Wille’s son with the same name became an important militia officer who was – like his father – fond of the German Army and its esprit de corps.

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author Carl Spitteler, whose work “Olympic Spring” earned him the Noble Peace Prize in 1919, warned of a deep rooting cultural and linguistic divide between the German-speaking parts of the population, who largely had sympathies with Germany, and the Romandie, which tended to look upon France with favor. In his famous speech “Our Swiss Position”, his first and only political manifest, Spitteler called for a reunification of Switzerland and pleaded for more tolerance between the different Swiss linguistic cultures. In doing so, he challenged the German-speaking Swiss in a speech given in Zurich on 14 December 1914: The enemies of the German Reich are not at the same time our enemies [...] We as neutrals owe to other nations the same fairness of judgement that we grant to the Germans, whose image we do not allow to be imposed upon us by the French distortion [...] One thing is certain, we must come closer together. For this we need to better understand ourselves. But in order to understand ourselves better, we have to get to know each other better. What is the state of our knowledge on the French part of Switzerland? And their literature and press?21 Considering the fact that Switzerland was in Spitteler’s eyes torn apart between different allegiances, he urged the German-speaking parts of Swiss society: Despite the cordial friendship that unites us in the privacy of thousands of German subjects, in all solidarity that we piously feel with German intellectual life, in all the homelike intimacy sensed from the common language, we must not assume any other position towards the political Germany, the German Empire than toward any other state: the position of neutral restraint at a neighbor-friendly distance this side of the border.22 21

Dominik Riedo and Carl Spitteler, eds. Unser Schweizer Standpunkt (Luzern: ProLibro, 2009 [1914]), 322, 325. In original: “Die Feinde des Deutschen Reiches sind nicht zugleich unsere Feinde […] Wir sind als Neutrale den übrigen Völkern jene Gerechtigkeit des Urteils schuldig, die wir den Deutschen gewähren, deren Bild wir uns ja auch nicht in der französischen Verzerrung aufnötigen lassen […] Eins ist sicher, wir müssen uns enger zusammen schliessen. Dafür müssen wir uns besser verstehen. Um uns aber besser verstehen zu können müssen wir einander vor allem näher kennen lernen. Wie steht es mit unserer Kenntnis der französischen Schweiz? Und ihrer Literatur und Presse?” 22 Spitteler, Standpunkt, 317. In original: “Bei aller herzlichen Freundschaft, die uns im Privatleben mit Tausenden von deutschen Untertanen verbindet, bei aller Solidarität, die wir mit dem deutschen Geistesleben pietätvoll verspüren, bei aller Traulichkeit, die uns aus der gemeinsamen Sprache heimatlich anmutet, dürfen wir dem politischen Deutschland, dem deutschen Kaiserreich gegenüber keine andere Stellung einnehmen als gegenüber

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Switzerland indeed stayed neutral, but Spitteler’s speech affected him negatively in one of his most important book markets, Germany. After his speech he became increasingly disrespected among Germans. Nonetheless, Spitteler, among others, was one of the first representatives to ascribe this cultural divide as being rooted in differences in the languages spoken among the Swiss. This was picked up by Ruchti and has since endured as a seminal phenomenon of Swiss historiography of the First World War. Most historians have since interpreted this divide as a danger that greatly threatened Switzerland as a nation created by voluntary association (“Willensnation”).23 The “Historical Biographic Dictionary of Switzerland”, which was published in 1926 in French and 1934 in German, dedicated ten pages to the First World War. After a short overview, the war is portrayed in three chapters. The first chapter, “The Political State”, illustrates the domestic developments which are largely linked to neutrality.24 Like Ruchti, the author views the general strike as a “socialist revolutionary” threat, an impending revolution against which the well-organized federal state had to fight. 25 Although Swiss neutrality is an omnipresent fact, the author is remarkably honest and sober, for example, when he states: “For the nourishment of the people and the needs of industry, the Federal Council had to continuously appeal to the goodwill of foreign governments, who literally had the fate of Switzerland in their hands”.26 The second part of the article focuses on military activities and shows the impact of the mobilization of the Swiss Army.27 The third and last chapter is devoted to nourishment and the provision of food for the population.28

23 24 25 26

27 28

jedem anderen Staate: die Stellung der neutralen Zurückhaltung in freundnachbarlicher Distanz diesseits der Grenze.” Kuhn, Ziegler, Narrativ, 128. Allgemeine Geschichtforschende Gesellschaft der Schweiz, ed., Historisch-Biographisches Lexikon der Schweiz (Neuenburg: Administration des Historisch-Biographischen Lexikons der Schweiz, 1934), 471–477. Allgemeine Geschichtforschende Gesellschaft der Schweiz, Lexikon, 476. Allgemeine Geschichtforschende Gesellschaft der Schweiz, Lexikon, 471. In original: “Für die Ernährung des Volkes und die Bedürfnisse der Industrie musste der Bundesrat fortgesetzt an das Wohlwollen der ausländischen Regierungen appellieren, die das Schicksal der Schweiz buchstäblich in der Hand hatten.” See also Konrad J. Kuhn, Béatrice Ziegler, “Tradierungen zur Schweiz im Ersten Weltkrieg: Geschichtskulturelle Prägungen der Geschichtswissenschaft und ihre Folgen”, Schweizerische Zeitschrift für Geschichte 63 (2013): 518. Allgemeine Geschichtforschende Gesellschaft der Schweiz, Lexikon, 477–479. Ibid., 479–480.

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The First World War in the Historiographical Context of the Cold War

In 1968, Willi Gautschi published his monumental study on the general strike.29 His book has since been well received by almost all scholars who work on Swiss history in the First World War. Gautschi’s main contribution is an interpretation of the strike that focuses on the long tradition of welfare policy within Switzerland. He devotes three out of five chapters to the prehistory of the strike and to the preparations by both the organizational committee, the so-called “Committee of Olten”, and its adversary, the authorities.30 Gautschi clearly shows that the strikers did not pursue a revolutionary uprising. He believes that their demands were moderate: The culmination of the struggle for emancipation of the Swiss workers’ movement must be seen in the general strike of 1918 [...] Although the working class was a minority, it wanted to be taken seriously as an ­important element of economic and political life. In the fight for its recognition, it had not shown itself to be choosy in the choice of means [...] In a confessionally and linguistically diverse Switzerland, whose history repeatedly taught the importance of balance, the idea of a class struggle was not destined to flourish.31 Despite these new findings, no further studies were undertaken, neither in welfare policy nor in the fields of the evolving trade unions at the time.32 In the Cold War context, the Great War was a large topic in Edgar Bonjour’s extensive study on Swiss neutrality. He cited Spitteler but also insisted on the fact that Paul Seippel, a French speaking Swiss, made a similar plea in Geneva to the one Spitteler had asserted in Zurich.33 More importantly, Bonjour interprets the First World War as a test for armed neutrality. Accordingly, his 29 Willi Gautschi, Der Landesstreik 1918 (Zürich: Chronos, 1988). 30 Gautschi, Landesstreik, 13–224. 31 Ibid., 384. In original: “Im Generalstreik von 1918 darf der Höhepunkt des Emanzipationskampfes der schweizerischen Arbeiterbewegung erblickt werden […] Die Arbeiterschaft war zwar eine Minderheit, aber sie wollte als wichtiges Element des wirtschaftlichen und staatlichen Lebens ernst genommen sein. Im Kampf um ihre Anerkennung hatte sie sich in der Anwendung ihrer Mittel nicht wählerisch gezeigt […] In der nach Konfessionen und Sprachen verschieden gearteten Schweiz, deren Geschichte immer wieder den Ausgleich lehrte, wollte der Gedanke des Klassenkampfes nicht gedeihen.” 32 Kuhn, Ziegler, Tradierungen, 515. 33 Edgar Bonjour, Geschichte der Schweizerischen Neutralität: Vier Jahrhunderte eidgenössische Aussenpolitik, Vol. 2 (Basel: Helbing & Lichtenhahn 1970), 156–157.

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c­ hapter “Preparations For Defending Neutrality”, the prelude to the chapter on Switzerland in the First World War, views the time prior to 1914 at least partially as an opportunity to strive to endure the impending war as securely as possible. Bonjour views Swiss neutrality as inevitable and a logical development of its cumulative history within Europe as well as and particularly due to the Great War; a status respected by foreign countries in light of Swiss history: This [neutral] attitude, shaped through historical developments and the present situation, seemed so self-evident that on the national front and in foreign countries no one had expected anything else [...] The neighboring countries hence assured Switzerland of their keen observance of its neutrality.34 Bonjour concluded that the First World War helped Switzerland to define its clear neutral role within Europe: The Swiss were brought up by the First World War to have a clearer and more contemporary notion of neutrality. While this had been taken as a self-evident fact in the recent period of peaceful respite, the Swiss now had to give account of their rights and duties anew. These had to be drawn up with greater precision, not only in accordance with their own needs, but also in accordance with the demands of foreign countries.35 Also during the 1960s, Ruchti’s influence prevailed largely within the field, including, for example, in Peter Stadler’s work. Like Ruchti, Stadler emphasizes Swiss neutrality, cultural differences, a significant economic dependence on overseas trade, as well as the general strike and its lessons. He also quotes Carl Spitteler and his speech “Our Swiss Position” briefly.36 Ulrich Im Hof mostly 34

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Bonjour, Neutralität, Vol. 2, 134. In original: “Diese durch geschichtliche Entwicklung und Gegenwartslage bestimmte Haltung erschien so selbstverständlich, dass In- und Ausland nichts anderes erwartet hatten […] So versicherten denn auch die Nachbarstaaten die Schweiz der peinlichen Achtung ihrer Neutralität.” Bonjour, Neutralität, Vol. 2, 249–250. In original: “Die Schweizer […] wurden durch den Ersten Weltkrieg zu einer deutlicheren und zeitgemässeren Vorstellung von der Neutralität erzogen. Hatte man diese in der bisherigen friedlichen Geborgenheit als eine selbstverständliche Tatsache genommen, so gab man sich jetzt von ihren Rechten und Pflichten erneut Rechenschaft. Man musste sie schärfer erfassen, nicht nur nach den eigenen Bedürfnissen, sondern auch nach den Forderungen des Auslandes.” Peter Stadler, “Die Schweiz von der Verfassungsrevision 1874 bis zum Ersten Weltkrieg (1874–1914)”, in Geschichte der Schweiz, eds. Hans von Greyerz, et al. (Ernst Klett: Nördlingen 1968), 138–152.

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repeats this narrative, albeit very briefly in his “History of Switzerland”. It first appeared in 1974 and has since been republished many times.37 Roland Ruffieux produced a survey of the First World War as part of his work on Switzerland between the two world wars.38 However, it was frequently cited in the coming years; German-speaking historians, in particular, neglected his contribution.39 Heinz Ochsenbein and Pierre Luciri showed in the 1970s that Switzerland was limited in its actions due to restrictions on its foreign trade due primarily to considerations concerning neutrality.40 Recent scholarship has explicitly linked this issue with neutrality.41 Gautschi’s as well as Ruchti’s interpretations and, in a limited way, also the state of research, represented in the Historical Biographic Dictionary of Switzerland were later picked up by historian Hans von Greyerz.42 After the Second World War and still in the context of the Cold War his article, “The Federal State Since 1848”, appeared in the “Handbook of Swiss History” in 1977. He emphasizes the lessons learned from World War One, especially those that were domestically applied. Von Greyerz cites Ruchti on many occasions. Neutrality, economic supplies, social cohesion and the general strike as well as the introduction of proportional representation in the National Council are the main themes. Additionally, he views the cultural lessons applied dur­­ing the Second World War such as intellectual national defense (“Geistige Landesverteidigung”),43 wartime economic preparations and other prearrangements as direct lessons from World War One. With regard to the First World War, von Greyerz mainly accepts Ruchti’s historical research and enlarges it. Still, von Greyerz sees the general strike as a system conflict and much less as a reaction against long 37 38 39 40

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Ulrich im Hof, Geschichte der Schweiz (Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 2007 [1974]), 134–135. Roland Ruffieux, La Suisse de l’entre-deux-guerres (Lausanne: Payot 1974), 9–48. Kuhn, Ziegler, Narrativ, 137. Heinz Ochsenbein, Die verlorene Wirtschaftsfreiheit 1914–1918: Methoden ausländischer Wirtschaftskontrollen über die Schweiz (Bern: Stämpfli, 1971); Pierre Luciri, Le prix de la neutralité: La diplomatie secrète de la Suisse en 1914–1915 (Genève: Institut universitaire de hautes études internationales, 1976). Andreas Sutter, “Neutralität: Prinzip, Praxis und Geschichtsbewustsein”, in Eine kleine Geschichte der Schweiz: Der Bundesstaat und seine Traditionen, eds. Manfred Hettling, et al. (Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp, 1998), 171–174; Hans Ulrich Jost, “A rebours d’une neutralité suisse improbable”, Traverse Zeitschrift für Geschichte 18 (2013): 205. Hans von Greyerz, “Der Bundesstaat seit 1848”, in Handbuch der Schweizer Geschichte, eds. Hanno Helbling, et al. (Zürich: Berichthaus, 1977), 1019–1267. The “Geistige Landesverteidigung” incorporated a political-cultural movement which sought to strengthen typical Swiss values in order to protect Switzerland from the fascistic, national socialist and communist influences.

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established welfare policy, as suggested by Gautschi.44 Like Spitteler and Ruchti earlier, von Greyerz emphasizes the cultural conflict between German and non-German-speaking Switzerland, suggesting that this linguistic divide was replaced towards the end of the war with a social divide, ultimately culminating in the general strike.45 Another interpretation of the division between German and Latin speaking Switzerland was put forward in 1983 by Pierre DuBois. He was one of the first scholars who explicitly suggested that Italian speaking Switzerland should be included in the study of the great divide. So he asked: The image that history has transferred of a climate within Switzerland during World War One seems to consist of a gap between the three parts of Switzerland: German-speaking Switzerland, and the French-speaking and Italian-speaking regions. But is this what really happened?46 In his contribution, DuBois studies public opinion and softens the danger of a separation: However, did the differences separate German-speaking Switzerland from the French or Italian-speaking regions of Switzerland? The answer is difficult [...] Patriotism remains for and against division [...] Thus, patriotism on the one hand, and reproaches, resentments, and suspicions on the other hand are a characteristic combination of Swiss attitudes during the Great War.47 Hans-Ulrich Jost was one of the first historians who explained Swiss history in the First World War through a lens of social and cultural history. He insisted on the importance of lesser studied subfields such as, for example, the 44 45 46

Von Greyerz, Bundesstaat, 1133–1140. Von Greyerz, Bundesstaat, 1131–1133. Pierre DuBois, “Mythe et réalité du fossé pendant la Première Guerre mondiale”, in Union et division des Suisses: Les relations entre Alémaniques, Romands et Tessinois aux XIX et XXe siècles, ed. Pierre DuBois (Lausanne: Editions de l’Aire: 1983), 65. In original: “L’image que l'histoire a transmise du climat intérieur en Suisse pendant la Première Guerre mondiale semble consister en un fossé entre les trois Suisses alémanique, romande et italienne. Rend-elle compte de ce qui est réellement advenu?” 47 DuBois, Mythe, 90–91. In original: “Des différences séparent-elles néanmoins la Suisse alémanique de la Suisse romande ou du Tessin? La réponse est malaisée […] Le patriotisme demeure envers et contre la division […] Ainsi amour de la patrie d’une part, reproches, ressentiments, suspicions d’autre part constituent-ils une combinatoire caractéristique des attitudes des Suisses durant la Grande Guerre.”

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r­elationship of Switzerland with the “third world”, demographic growth, the role of ­foreigners in Switzerland and cultural factors like architectural, movie and media history.48 Jost therefore opened up a new perspective on the study of Switzerland in the First World War.

Recent Interpretations and Historiographical Turns

Jost’s perspective was later picked up by François Walter in the 4th volume of his “Swiss History”, written in French. Walter, like Jost, focuses largely on social history.49 He also interprets Swiss history in a European context but his narrative bears many similarities with the old account of Ruchti and von Greyerz. Accordingly, he places great emphasis on the social divide and the language difference, stating that at the beginning of the war these feelings were very strong: “From autumn 1914 very strong expressions reflecting the cultural and moral tensions began to be herd. A new awareness of a cultural divide separating the two language groups became evident!”50 But the divide in Walter’s eyes was larger than just a cultural one. He also interprets societal and political events determining the cultural divide. So, for example, he views the Kaisermanöver as an event that interfered with Swiss neutrality and was only set up in order to show Willhelm II that the Swiss Army could withstand a French attack against Germany via Switzerland.51 Walter is one of the only historians who has placed the Kaisermanöver in this context. Before Walter’s publication, Max Mittler explicitly asked “how neutral Switzerland was” and studied the issue of neutrality that had already been largely addressed by Bonjour from a post-Cold War perspective. Mittler studied contemporary media outlets and came to a similar conclusion as Volker Reinhart seven years later,52 that is, that it was inevitable that the Great War would be a crucial test to the Swiss nation. Both also focused on neutrality and came to 48

Hans-Ulrich Jost, “Bedrohung und Enge (1914–1945)”, in Geschichte der Schweiz und der Schweizer, eds. Ulrich Im Hof, et al. (Basel: Helbing & Lichtenhahn, 1986 [1983]), 731–819. 49 François Walter, Histoire de la Suisse: La création de la Suisse moderne, Vol. 4 (Neuchâtel: Éditions Alphil-Presses universitaires Suisses, 2010), 119–136. 50 Walter, Histoire, Vol. 4, S. 128. In original: “Dès l’automne 1914, ce sont des expressions très fortes qui rendent compte des tensions culturelles et morales. On évoque un véritable “fossé” (Graben) qui séparerait les deux Suisses!” 51 Walter, Histoire, Vol. 4, 122. 52 Max Mittler, Der Weg zum Ersten Weltkrieg: Wie neutral war die Schweiz? (Zürich: Verlag Neue Zürcher Zeitung, 2003); Reinhardt, Geschichte.

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similar conclusions, although Konrad J. Kuhn and Béatrice Ziegler think that Reinhardt’s sources could have been interpreted differently.53 Mario König largely recounts well chartered ground in his contribution “Politics and Society in the 20th Century: Crises, Conflicts, Reforms”, which ­appeared as a part of the book “A Short History of Switzerland” in 1998.54 Social tensions between the German-speaking and the French-speaking population (a “language-ethnic pressure test”), 55 the general strike as well as the post-war period form the main elements in König’s narrative, whereas the war in Europe per se is addressed very briefly. The transnational interpretation of Switzerland in the First World War, already addressed by Walter, was deepened by André Holenstein. His most recent work bears the title “In the Midst of Europe”. Accordingly, he also interprets the period 1914–1918 as a time in which entanglement and delimitation were a particular characteristic in Swiss history.56 Similarly Roman Rossfeld and Daniel Marc Segesser recently demanded a transnational view of Switzerland in the Great War, which is currently being written by numerous historians.57 From a military history perspective there are quite a lot of research topics that require treatment. A start was made by Rudolf Jaun, Hans Rudolf Fuhrer and Hans Rapold, to name a few.58 For a long time the role of Ulrich Wille and his commanding officers was at the center of the research. Young historians have recently continued to study the role of the Swiss Army in the First World War, investigating somewhat different research questions. Nonetheless, most military history impulses have come from the Military Academy at ETH Zurich, and the subfield has not yet been institutionalized in other universities. Recently, studies on gender have become increasingly popular. Yet this subfield still lacks comprehensive research.59 Significantly, more studies have dealt 53 54

Kuhn, Ziegler, Narrativ, 125. Mario König, “Politik und Gesellschaft im 20. Jahrhundert. Krisen, Konflikte, Reformen”, in Hettling, Geschichte, 21–90. 55 König, Politik, 35. 56 Holenstein, Mitten in Europa. 57 Rossfeld, Zugänge; Segesser, Teil. 58 Hans Rapold, Zeit der Bewährung? Die Epoche um den Ersten Weltkrieg 1907–1924 (Basel: Helbing & Lichtenhahn, 1988); Rudolf Jaun, Das Schweizerische Generalstabskorps 1875–1945: Eine kollektiv biographische Studie (Basel: Helbing & Lichtenhahn, 1991); Rudolf Jaun, Preussen vor Augen: Das schweizerische Offizierskorps im militärischen und gesellschaftlichen Wandel des Fin de siècle (Zürich: Chronos, 1999); Hans Rudolf Fuhrer, Die Schweizer Armee im Ersten Weltkrieg: Bedrohung, Landesverteidigung und Landesbefestigung (Zürich: Verlag Neue Zürcher Zeitung, 2001). 59 Regula Stämpfli, Mit der Schürze in die Landesverteidigung: Frauenemanzipation und Schweizer Militär, 1914–1945 (Zürich: Orell Füssli, 2002); Béatrix Messmer, Staatsbürgerinnen

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with the economic implications of the Great War; Roman Rossfeld and Tobias Straumann have contributed extensively to this area of research. An innovative study which they edited suggests a model of five phases for understanding the evolution of the Swiss economy for the time period of 1914 to 1923.60 Rossfeld and Straumann show in detail that the war was also an economic chance for various branches in the Swiss wartime economy. A new study, which should appear in 2016, will continue this research focus on economic history during the war.61 A very popular contribution to Swiss History was brought forward by Thomas Maissen in 2010. His 334-page long survey entitled “History of Switzerland” features the impact of the First World War primarily from an economic, political and demographic perspective.62 His focus on military developments is very short, although he mentions some domestic particulars, for example the war finances, the number of soldiers who lost their lives during service, the inadequate military equipment of the army as well as the Kaisermanöver, which he partially – like Walter – interprets as a way to show Germany that its southern flank could be protected in the case of a French attack. The cultural division was in Maissen’s eyes also a political one, he suggests: Ulrich Wille was not the only German-speaking Swiss who admired the military, economic, scientific and cultural achievements of the united Germany of 1871, which seemed to replace Great Britain as the model of an efficient and successful nation-state [...] In the early 20th century, Germany had replaced protectionist France as the main trading partner; more than 200’000 Germans were living in Switzerland, and many Swiss spent at least their years of study in Germany. For the French speaking Swiss, however, Paris remained the cultural home [...] Since 1914, the fronts in the population largely followed the linguistic border [...].63 ohne Stimmrecht: Die Politik der schweizerischen Frauenverbände 1914–1971 (Zürich: Chronos, 2007). 60 Rossfeld, Straumann, Wirtschaftskrieg, 23–28. 61 See Daniel Krämer, Christian Pfister, Daniel Marc Segesser, eds., “Woche für Woche neue Preisaufschläge”: Nahrungsmittel-, Energie- und Ressourcenkonflikte in der Schweiz des Ersten Weltkrieges (Basel: Schwabe, forthcoming). 62 Maissen, Geschichte, 240–252. 63 Maissen, Geschichte, 241. In original: “Ulrich Wille war nicht der einzige Deutschschweizer, der die militärischen, wirtschaftlichen, wissenschaftlichen und kulturellen Leistungen des 1871 geeinten Deutschland bewunderte, das weltweit Grossbritannien als Modell für einen effizienten und erfolgreichen Nationalstaat abzulösen schien […] Im frühen 20. Jahrhundert hatte Deutschland das protektionistische Frankreich als wichtigsten Handelspartner abgelöst; über 200‘000 Deutsche lebten in der Schweiz, und viele

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Maissen’s contribution to Swiss history is largely based on his own research as well as the Historical Dictionary of Switzerland (HDS), which was finished in 2014. The HDS provides up-to-date research in the three national languages: German, French and Italian as well as a shorter version in Rhaeto-Romanic. The article on World War One provides a comparatively detailed overview. After a broad introduction by the editors of the HDS, various authors focus on subfields. In short, the article recounts the implications of the war in military and economic terms, with regard to foreign and domestic politics, and with respect to social and cultural matters. The last chapter, again written by the editorial staff, synthesizes the war as an end to an era and the beginning of changes, particularly in Swiss politics and the economy.64 Sacha Zala interprets the historical period during the two World Wars as a single entity extending from 1914 to 1949. Not only does he acknowledge the significant difference between the post-49 era and the war period, but he also focuses on continuities such as technical innovations, the integration of the working class in the political system during this time and the failure of institutionalizing equal (political) rights for women. Still, he emphasizes at the end of his article that the emerging trend in European history of interpreting the period from 1914 to 1945 as an era of world war would only partially apply to Switzerland. In Zala’s eyes, the continuities – first and foremost the fact of nonparticipation in wars – continued into the Cold War era.65 Zala’s up-to-date publication recounts in particular the recent research on economic, financial, social and gender history. Moreover, it places the First World War in a wider context, suggesting that it caused a “long shadow” primarily because it polarized Switzerland along language lines.66 As mentioned already, Georg Kreis has studied the First World War in Swiss history extensively. He deepened our understanding of the language barrier and its implications and also made it clear that Switzerland in 1914 and Switzerland in 1939 were two significantly different nations.67 More recently he explicitly­ Schweizer verbrachten zumindest Studienjahre in Deutschland. Für die Welschen blieb jedoch Paris die kulturelle Heimat […] Die Fronten in der Bevölkerung folgten seit 1914 weitgehend der Sprachgrenze […]” For German influences in Switzerland see: Klaus Urner, Die Deutschen in der Schweiz. Von den Anfängen der Koloniebildung bis zum Ausbruch des Ersten Weltkriegs (Frauenfeld: Huber, 1976). 64 “Weltkrieg, Erster”, in Historisches Lexikon der Schweiz, ed. Marco Jorio. Accessed August 6, 2015. http://www.hls-dhs-dss.ch/textes/d/D8926.php. 65 Zala, Krisen, 536. 66 Ibid., 494–500. 67 See for example: Georg Kreis, “Kein ‘fossé‘ in den Kriegsjahren 1939–1945: Abklärungen zu einem Topos und seinem Realitätsgehalt”, Zeitschrift für schweizerische Archäologie und Kunstgeschichte 60 (2003): 141–152; Georg Kreis, “Krisenreaktionen in der französischen

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pointed out that there are still many existing research desiderata and, like Zala, concluded that the Second World War has received much more attention from historians.68 His study “Island of Doubtful Security” has to be one of the most up-to-date historical accounts of Switzerland in the First World War. In the introduction, Kreis clearly distinguishes his book from the rest of the existing literature. His work focuses more on the impacts of the First World War and examines previously lesser studied journals as well as pictures as primary sources. One of the most important contributions of this book is that it clearly shows that most parts of Swiss society were not prepared for a four-year long war. In Kreis’ eyes, the narrative of Switzerland as an island which prevailed after 1918 was strongly coined during the First World War. Conclusion As has become apparent, a large part of the existing literature is based on the early narrative of Jacob Ruchti. Ruchti’s triad of cultural, social and political polarization has been well received. Apart from a history of events, structural phenomena such as impoverishment, a rise in prices, a socio-lingual gap, a political crisis as well as a focus on neutrality are all omnipresent throughout the narrative. According to the well-established narrative, they all culminated in the general strike of 1918. Recently, voluminous overall views on Swiss history have largely supported this narrative. Only in the very recent past have serious questions about the plausibility of this argument been brought forward. For example, Konrad J. Kuhn and Béatrice Ziegler as well as Rudolf Jaun requested more research in the field on Switzerland in the First World War in general and on the general strike in particular. They caution researchers from accepting the established causal narrative and demand more detailed studies. In this regard, Rudolf Jaun states: “Why the numerous strikers really participated in the general strike has been largely unexplored. [...] The culmination narrative must be [...] questioned and re-evaluated [...] A new, modern, social and cultural-historical study of the general strike is urgently needed.” 69 Schweiz vor 1914”, in Die neue Schweiz? Eine Gesellschaft zwischen Integration und Polarisierung (1910–1930), eds. Andreas Ernst and Erich Wigger (Zürich: Chronos, 1995), 21–39. 68 Kreis, Insel, S. 11–12. 69 Rudolf Jaun, “Der Erste Weltkrieg und das Generalstreiks-Narrativ”, Neue Zürcher Zeitung NZZ, September 25, 2014, 23. In original: “Weshalb die zahlreichen Streikenden wirklich am Generalstreik teilnahmen, ist weitgehend unerforscht […] Das Kulminations-Narrativ ist […] zu hinterfragen und neu zu bewerten […] Eine neue, moderne, sozial- und kulturgeschichtliche Untersuchung des Generalstreiks ist dringend notwendig.”

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This demand can be expanded to all aspects concerning implications of the First World War for Switzerland, from domestic issues to foreign affairs. Konrad J. Kuhn and Béatrice Ziegler express similar concerns, for example, when they state: “The analytical view on the existing narrative about Switzerland in World War One makes it clear how much the historical work since the 1930s has been marked by the omnipresent interpretations of historical-cultural narratives nourished during the period of the nation’s intellectual defense. [“Geistige Landesverteidigung”] [...] In a similar manner to how these ­historical-cultural interpretations prevailed during the Cold War, the traditional narratives continued to maintain their status in the discipline until the 1970s and beyond […] [The] historical science neither questioned the gaps in these stories, nor did it develop alternative interpretations. In this way it failed to absorb certain “non-issues” in its research.”70 One can only hope that new research and innovative methodical approaches will be applied by future scholars. As has been shown, there is an optimistic trend that has been evident in recent years: social, cultural, economic, gender and transnational history by younger scholars have become more popular, albeit far from exhausted. This trend will hopefully lead to a more balanced picture of the implications of the First World War for Switzerland. Works Cited Allgemeine Geschichtforschende Gesellschaft der Schweiz, ed. Historisch-Biographisches Lexikon der Schweiz. Neuenburg: Administration des Historisch-Biographischen Lexikons der Schweiz, 1934. Bonjour, Edgar. Geschichte der Schweizerischen Neutralität: Vier Jahrhunderte eidgenössische Aussenpolitik. Basel: Helbing & Lichtenhahn, 1970. 70

Kuhn and Ziegler, Tradierungen, 514–515. In original: “Der analytische Blick auf das bestehende Narrativ zur Schweiz im Ersten Weltkrieg macht deutlich, wie stark die geschichtswissenschaftliche Bearbeitung seit den 1930er Jahren von den omnipräsenten Deutungen durch die geschichtskulturellen Erzählungen in der Geistigen Landesverteidigung geprägt worden ist […] In ähnlicher Weise wie diese geschichtskulturellen Deutungen sich in der Geschichtskultur des Kalten Krieges halten konnten, blieb auch die Geschichtswissenschaft bis in die 1970er Jahre und darüber hinaus gekennzeichnet von den traditionellen Mustern der Überlieferung […] [Die] Geschichtswissenschaft befragte weder Leerstellen dieser Erzählungen, noch entwickelte sie alternative Deutungen. Auf diese Weise nahm sie also gewisse ‘Nicht-Themen’ gar nicht in ihre Forschung auf.”

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“Die Schweiz im Ersten Weltkrieg: Transnationale Perspektiven auf einen Kleinstaat im totalen Krieg”, Swiss National Science Foundation. Accessed August 6, 2015. http://p3.snf.ch/Project-141906. DuBois, Pierre. “Mythe et réalité du fossé pendant la Première Guerre mondiale”. In: Union et division des Suisses: Les relations entre Alémaniques, Romands et Tessinois aux XIX et XXe siècles, ed. Pierre DuBois, 65–91. Lausanne: Editions de l’Aire, 1983. Feldmann, Marcus, Wirz Hans Georg, eds. Schweizer Kriegsgeschichte. Bern: E. Kuhn, 1916–1935. Fink, Urban, ed. Der Kanton Solothurn vor hundert Jahren: Quellen, Bilder und Erinnerungen zur Zeit des Ersten Weltkriegs. Baden: Hier und Jetzt, 2014. Gautschi, Willi. Der Landesstreik 1918. Zürich: Chronos, 1988. Hebeisen, Erika, Peter Niederhäuser, Regula Schmid, eds. Kriegs- und Krisenzeit: Zürich während des Ersten Weltkriegs. Zürich: Chronos, 2014. Holenstein, André. Mitten in Europa: Verflechtung und Abgrenzung in der Schweizer Geschichte. Baden: Hier und Jetzt, 2014. Im Hof, Ulrich. Geschichte der Schweiz. Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 2007 [1974]. Johannes, Huber, eds. 1914–1918/1919: Die Ostschweiz und der Grosse Krieg. St. Gallen: Historischer Verein des Kantons St. Gallen, 2014. Jorio, Marco, ed. Historisches Lexikon der Schweiz, Basel: Schwabe, 2002–2014, also online, http://www.hls-dhs-dss.ch. Jost, Hans Ulrich. “A rebours d’une neutralité suisse improbable”. Traverse Zeitschrift für Geschichte, 18, 2013, 205–214. Jost, Hans-Ulrich. “Bedrohung und Enge (1914–1945)”. In: Geschichte der Schweiz und der Schweizer, eds. Ulrich Im Hof, et al., 731–819. Basel: Helbing & Lichtenhahn, 1986 [1983]. König, Mario. “Politik und Gesellschaft im 20. Jahrhundert. Krisen, Konflikte, Reformen”. In: Eine kleine Geschichte der Schweiz: Der Bundesstaat und seine Traditionen, eds. Manfred Hettling, et al., 21–90. Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp, 1998. Krämer, Daniel, Christian Pfister, Daniel Marc Segesser, eds. “Woche für Woche neue Preisaufschläge”: Nahrungsmittel-, Energie- und Ressourcenkonflikte in der Schweiz des Ersten Weltkrieges. Basel: Schwabe, forthcoming. Kreis, Georg, ed. Die Geschichte der Schweiz. Basel: Schwabe, 2014. Kreis, Georg. Insel der unsicheren Geborgenheit: Die Schweiz in den Kriegsjahren 1914–1918. Zürich: Verlag Neue Zürcher Zeitung, 2014. Kuhn, Konrad J., Béatrice Ziegler. “Tradierungen zur Schweiz im Ersten Weltkrieg: Geschichtskulturelle Prägungen der Geschichtswissenschaft und ihre Folgen”. Schweizerische Zeitschrift für Geschichte, 63 (2013): 505–526. Kuhn, Konrad J., Béatrice Ziegler. “Dominantes Narrativ und drängende Forschungsfragen: Zur Geschichte der Schweiz im Ersten Weltkrieg”. Traverse Zeitschrift für ­Geschichte 18 (2011): 123–141.

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Kuhn, Konrad J., Béatrice Ziegler, eds. Der vergessene Krieg: Spuren und Traditionen zur Schweiz im Ersten Weltkrieg. Baden: Hier und Jetzt, 2014. Luciri, Pierre. Le prix de la neutralité: La diplomatie secrète de la Suisse en 1914–1915. Genève: Institut universitaire de hautes études internationales, 1976. Maissen, Thomas. Geschichte der Schweiz. Baden: Hier und Jetzt, 2010. Mittler, Max. Der Weg zum Ersten Weltkrieg: Wie neutral war die Schweiz? Zürich: Verlag Neue Zürcher Zeitung, 2003. Ochsenbein, Heinz. Die verlorene Wirtschaftsfreiheit 1914–1918: Methoden ausländischer Wirtschaftskontrollen über die Schweiz. Bern: Stämpfli, 1971. Reinhardt, Volker. Die Geschichte der Schweiz: Von den Anfängen bis heute. München: Beck, 2011. Riedo, Dominik, and Carl Spitteler, eds. Unser Schweizer Standpunkt. Luzern: ProLibro, 2009 [1914]. Rossfeld, Roman. “1914–1918: Neue Zugänge zur Geschichte der Schweiz im Ersten Weltkrieg”. Schweizerische Zeitschrift für Geschichte, 63 (2013): 337–342. Rossfeld, Roman, and Tobias Straumann. “Zwischen den Fronten oder an allen Fronten? Eine Einführung”. In: Der vergessene Wirtschaftskrieg: Schweizer Unternehmen im Ersten Weltkrieg, eds. Roman Rossfeld, Tobias Straumann, 16–18. Zürich: Chronos, 2008. Rossfeld, Roman, Thomas Buomberger, and Patrick Kury, eds. 14/18: Die Schweiz und der grosse Krieg. Baden: Hier und Jetzt, 2014. Ruchti, Jacob et al., Geschichte der Schweiz während des Weltkrieges 1914–1919: Politisch, wirtschaftlich und kulturell, Vol. 1: Politischer Teil. Bern: P. Haupt, 1928. Ruchti, Jacob. Geschichte der Schweiz während des Weltkrieges 1914–1919: Politisch, wirtschaftlich und kulturell, Vol. 2: Kriegswirtschaft und Kulturelles. Bern: P. Haupt, 1930. Ruffieux, Roland. La Suisse de l’entre-deux-guerres. Lausanne: Payot, 1974. Schelbert, Leo. Historical Dictionary of Switzerland. Lanham, Md: University Press of America, 2007. Segesser, Daniel Marc. “Nicht kriegführend, aber doch Teil eines globalen Krieges: Perspektiven auf transnationale Verflechtungen der Schweiz im Ersten Weltkrieg”. Schweizerische Zeitschrift für Geschichte 63 (2013): 364–366. Stadler, Peter. “Die Schweiz von der Verfassungsrevision 1874 bis zum Ersten Weltkrieg (1874–1914)”. In: Geschichte der Schweiz. eds. Hans von Greyerz, et al., 138–152. Nördlingen: Ernst Klett, 1968. Sutter, Andreas. “Neutralität: Prinzip, Praxis und Geschichtsbewustsein”. In: Eine kleine Geschichte der Schweiz: Der Bundesstaat und seine Traditionen, eds. Manfred Hettling, et al., 133–188. Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp, 1998. Urner, Klaus. Die Deutschen in der Schweiz: Von den Anfängen der Koloniebildung bis zum Ausbruch des Ersten Weltkriegs. Frauenfeld: Huber, 1976.

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Von Greyerz, Hans. “Der Bundesstaat seit 1848”. In: Handbuch der Schweizer Geschichte, eds. Hanno Helbling, et al., 1019–1267. Zürich: Berichthaus, 1977. Walter, François. Histoire de la Suisse: La création de la Suisse moderne. Neuchâtel: Éditions Alphil-Presses universitaires Suisses, 2010. “Weltkrieg, Erster”, in Jorio, Marco, ed. Historisches Lexikon der Schweiz. Accessed August 6, 2015. http://www.hls-dhs-dss.ch/textes/d/D8926.php. Wicki, Otto, and Anton Kaufmann. Der Erste Weltkrieg: Die Entlebucher an der Landesgrenze. Schüpfheim: Druckerei Schüpfheim, 2008. Zala, Sacha, “Krisen, Konfrontation, Konsens (1914–1949)”. In: Georg Kreis, Die Geschichte der Schweiz. Basel: Schwabe, 2014: 491–539.

“Where the Tree Falls”: The National Cemetery System and the Post-WWI Construction of an International Nationalism Allison Lynn Wanger On July 14, 1918, Lieutenant Quentin Roosevelt (1897–1918), the youngest son of Theodore Roosevelt (1858–1919), was killed in aerial combat near Château Thierry, France. Recovered by German soldiers, he was laid to rest in an individual grave, marked by a cross that was crafted by the enemy out of his plane’s propellers. Over a thousand German troops gathered to pay their respects.1 Correspondence between the former president and military officials concerning Quentin’s death circulated in newspapers nationwide. “The death of our son is a bitter affliction”, Roosevelt wrote, “but this affliction would have been more bitter if our boy had not had an ardent desire to face death for such a noble cause”.2 Sending his condolences, General John J. Pershing (1860–1948) sympathized, “You may well be proud of your gift to the nation in his supreme sacrifice”.3 This well-worn nationalistic rhetoric embodied the interwar national cemetery system’s (NCS) memorial mission. Through the establishment of overseas American cemeteries the institution employed classical, allegorical, and religious iconography and memorial architecture to imagine the tragic loss of distinctive lives as abstract ideological necessities in the national crusade to, in the words of President Woodrow Wilson, “make the world safe for democracy”.4 The nature, politics, and geography of modern global warfare, the international relations it extended and the death it engendered, influenced the character and evolution of the government’s investment in a “good” national death.5 1 Due to the fact the Germans recognized Roosevelt as the son of a former president he received unique treatment. The average soldier did not garner such attention from the enemy. 2 “Roosevelt Thanks Paris”, The New York Times, November 21, 1918, 14. 3 “Quentin Roosevelt Praised by Pershing”, The New York Times, August 19, 1918, 9. 4 Woodrow Wilson, “At War with Germany: Address to Congress”, April 2, 1917 in Arthur Roy Leonard, ed., War Addresses of Woodrow Wilson (Boston, Athenaeum Press, 1918), 42. 5 This chapter is structured around the nineteenth century notion of a “good death”. As the government established the NCS following the Civil War, late nineteenth century American funerary traditions provided a cultural and social impetus for the institution’s evolution. By personally caring for the dying and the deceased within their homes and communities,

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The death of Quentin Roosevelt provided an impetus for this metamorphosis. “Mrs. Roosevelt and I”, the former President wrote to the Quartermaster General, have always believed that “Where the tree falls, there let it lie”. … to us it is painful and harrowing long after death to move the poor body from which the soul has fled. We greatly prefer that Quentin shall continue to lie on the spot where he fell.6 At the time, the policy of the War Department was to “return to the United States the bodies of our soldiers who died on foreign soil and is in response to the practically unanimous demand on the part of the relatives of the deceased soldiers”. The Roosevelts’ public request compelled the War Department to unofficially adjust its policy. “In view … of your desire to have the body of your son Quentin remain where he fell”, General Peyton C. March wrote Roosevelt, “I am sending an order to General Pershing to carry out your wishes … and am giving him general authority to take the same course of action with regard to the body of any other soldier whose relatives or proper legal representatives desire such a course to be taken”.7 This decision suggested that the government was willing to grant next of kin (NOK) at least a degree of autonomy in determining the interment location of their deceased relative and, by consequence, the conflict’s official national memory. The public exchange presented a democratic model of familial and national mourning that further positioned the government as a mediator of funerary and memorial traditions. As their correspondence influenced recovery and repatriation policies, it ultimately impacted the NCS’ geographic, aesthetic, and regulatory development and, ultimately, the vision of the nation embodied therein.8

Victorian Americans assured themselves that their loved one had lived a worthy life and that their soul was at peace. Such “good death” practices served social functions, allowing the ­living to re-imagine and revive familial and communal relations and assuage fears concerning mortality and affirmed that life was worth living. I argue that the NCS was and continues to be a custodian of the Victorian tradition. Through the recovery, interment, and memorialization of the nation’s war dead, the NCS translated and transformed the domestic and familial nature of a “good death” into a national and international concern. 6 “Roosevelt Objects to Removal of Son”, The New York Times, November 18, 1918, 11. 7 Ibid. 8 Press Release from National Publicity Divisions, ND; Folder 687, Cemeteries 1923 through 1939; Box 157, Decimal Subject File Concerning the Construction and Maintenance of Cemeteries and Monuments; Records of the American battle Monument Commission, Record

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The NCS’ establishment of domestic and overseas cemeteries allowed the government to negotiate and redefine the nature of American nationalism and democracy in relation to its expanding federal power.9 By the signing of the Armistice in 1918, 116,516 American decedents rested in some 700 cemeteries throughout France, Belgium, England, Russia, Germany, and the AustroHungarian Empire. Between 1917 and 1939, the War Department established four domestic and eight overseas cemeteries in order to pay gratitude to fallen patriots. The NCS’ expansion abroad was unprecedented, as there were eightytwo national cemeteries in the domestic U.S. and one in Mexico City.10 By extending the institution’s mission and geography, the government transformed the familial and national traditions of mourning and memorialization into a political undertaking that had consequences for America’s postwar ­international relations and foreign policies. The government had a dual purpose in developing overseas cemeteries; it sought to pay gratitude to “its departed sons” and, in the words of assistant to the Secretary of War Ralph Hayes, “demonstrate to all peoples for all time of America’s response to a great threat”.11 The cemeteries, thus, needed to function as both memorial expressions of America’s expanding international power and as communal burial grounds that contained the remains of brothers, fathers, sons, sisters, mothers, and daughters. To this end, the American Battle Monuments Commission (ABMC), under the architectural guidance of Paul Cret, aimed to develop funerary landscapes that created “continuity with the past”, affirmed the nation’s present, and imagined its future.12 In order 9

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Group (RG) 117; National Archives and Records Administration, College Park, Maryland (NACP). For discussions of American nationalism and public memory in this period see Michael Kammen, Mystic Chords of Memory (New York: Vintage Books, 1993), John Bodnar, Remaking America (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1992); Wanda Corn, The Great American Thing: Modern Art and National Identity, 1915–1935 (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1999); and Van Wyck Brooks, America’s Coming of Age (Charleston: Nabu Press, 2010). G. Kurt Piehler, Remembering War the American Way (Washington, D.C.: Smithsonian Institution Press, 1995), 97. Ralph Hayes, A Report to the Secretary of War on American Military Dead Overseas (Washington, D.C.: Government Printing Office, 1920), 14. Paul Cret, “United States Monument Near Chateau Thierry”, September 30, 1927; Box 2, Entry 3l Records of the American Battle Monuments Commission, RG 117; NACP. Historian Ron Robin and curator Lisa Budreau conclude that the WWI cemeteries were aesthetic and foreign policy failures because the ABMC’s “architectural symbolism…gravitated toward the point of least resistance: the repetition of well-worn clichés”. Their characterizations of the cemeteries aesthetics are relatively accurate. The NCS’ overseas expansion was heavily influenced by the government’s early-twentieth century neo-classical

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to fulfill its expressed mission and devise a universally intelligible memorial rhetoric that resonated with a spectrum of domestic and foreign interests, the NCS could not cast aside tradition in regards to its geographic, regulatory, and memorial decisions. Instead, it embraced well-established architectural and commemorative customs. The overseas cemeteries were the product of over a decade of negotiations between the U.S. government, American citizens, and Allied governments. The War Department and Congress mediated divergent political interests, funerary and memorialization traditions, classical and modernist aesthetic concerns, and social tensions to develop monumental funerary landscapes that were transnationally legible. Although the government did not ultimately produce a uniquely American funerary architecture or nationalistic iconography, the development and memorialization fostered international solidarity that helped solidify the U.S.’ entrance into global politics.13 While the government focused its resources on constructing overseas cemeteries, the domestic NCS was left to assimilate the war dead and the expanded, aging veteran population into its eighty-two cemeteries. Repatriation encouraged the NCS to expand its funerary landscapes near urban centers, but overall limited domestic expansion, along with discriminatory memorialization practices indicated that the nation did not live up to the democratic ideals embodied in its overseas funerary architecture. The NCS and the Choice of a “Good” International Death Upon America’s entrance into WWI, Secretary of War, Newton D. Baker (1871– 1937), at the bequest of General Pershing, officially organized a Graves Registration Service (GRS) within the Quartermaster Corps.14 Under the command

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redevelopment of Washington D.C.’s memorial landscape. Nonetheless, these critiques are overly concerned with the memorial product and, thus, overlook the development process’ national and international significance. Ron Robin, Enclaves of America (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1992), 56. See also Lisa M. Budreau, Bodies of War: World War I and the Politics of Commemoration in American, 1919–1933 (New York: New York University Press, 2010). “Summary of the Work of the American Battle Monuments Commission in Europe”, April 1930; Folder 600.12 Projects 1–1–30 to 12–31–34; Box 153, Decimal Subject File Concerning the Construction and Maintenance of Cemeteries and Monuments; Records of the American battle Monument Commission, RG 117; NACP. The GRS became the successor to D.H. Rhodes’ Civilian Burial Corps. Pierce had previously headed the Office of Identification in Manila during and after the Spanish American War. General Order (G.O.) No. 104 (August 7, 1917).

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of Major Charles C. Pierce (1858–1921), nineteen GRS units put into practice newly adopted recovery techniques, including the use of detailed maps and battlefield sketches. Their efforts were made easier by a recent War Department regulation that mandated all combat soldiers wear aluminum dog tags when in the field.15 In 1917, the War Department tasked the Quartermaster Corps’ (QMC) Burial Department with acquiring and maintaining the land for temporary cemeteries. Amid combat, GRS units recovered, identified, and buried the dead, as well as laid out burial plots and erected crosses as headstones.16 In early 1918, the Secretaries of War and the Navy agreed that all decedents should be interred near where they fell and, when “practicable”, repatriated.17 While Congress and the War Department made the ultimate decision as to the fate of the war dead, the widely publicized case of Quentin Roosevelt encouraged the American public to debate the character of a “good” international death. Opponents and proponents of repatriation conceived of the dead as political and symbolic capital, whose memorialization had consequences for not only private traditions, but also international relations. Isolationists and concerned NOK formed lobbying groups, such as Pittsburgh’s Bring Home the Dead League (BHDL), to advocate for total repatriation. The most prominent of these organizations, which were often formed in urban centers with expanding veteran populations, argued that leaving the dead abroad would permanently tie America to Europe and entrench the nation in subsequent political and military conflicts. Overseas cemeteries, isolationists contended, would be desecrated by anti-Americanists, damaged in future wars, and, in the words of BHDL chairman, J. D. Foster, “trampled under foot by those hordes from Germany”.18 Furthermore, isolationists were suspect of the government’s memorial intentions. They expressed concern that the government was merely “using” decedents “to further foster international sentiment”.19 15 16

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Steven E. Anders, “With All Due Honors: A History of the Quartermaster Graves Registration Mission”, Quartermaster Processional Bulletin (September 1988), 25. G.O. No. 27, (August 29, 1917). For a personal account of GRS activity see Col. Elbert E. Legg, “Crosses at Normandy”, Quartermaster Professional Bulletin (Autumn/Winter, 1994), http://www.qmfound.com/crosses.htm (last access December 10, 2014). Having GRS units in the field to evacuate the dead to temporary cemeteries greatly diminished the time between recovery, burial, and grave registration and reduced the number of unknowns to less than three bodies for every 100 recovered. Monro, MacCloskey, Hallowed Ground: Our National Cemeteries (New York: Richard Rosen Press, 1968) 48–49. Major William R. White, Q.M.C., “Our Soldier Dead”, The Quartermaster Review, May–June 1930, http://www.qmfound.com/soldier_dead.htm (last access December 10, 2014). U.S. Cong., “Return of the Military Dead Buried in France: Hearings before the Committee on Foreign Affairs, House of Representatives”, 66th Congress, 1st Session, Nov. 13, 1919, 84. Ibid. See also Budreau, Bodies of War, 47–48.

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Internationalists, on the other hand, maintained that overseas cemeteries would enhance international relations and reinforce the nation’s expanding political, economic, and military power. Former President Howard Taft (1857– 1930), Samuel Gompers (1850–1924), and AEF chaplain Charles Henry Brent (1862–1929) organized the American Field of Honor Organization in 1920 to advocate for the establishment of overseas cemeteries. They argued that the “sacred dust” of American soldiers consecrated foreign land as American and illustrated the nation’s commitment to its European allies.20 While the objectives of isolationists and internationalists differed, they both saw the memorialization of the war dead as a political act that communicated the nation’s domestic and foreign policies. The economics of mourning and memorialization also played a central role in these debates, revealing anxieties concerning the government’s intentions in providing a “good” international death. Opponents envisioned repatriation as a ploy promoted by the predatory mortuary industry to financially exploit grief-stricken NOK. While some death professionals supported repatriation, in reality, the majority did not approve of the endeavor. Alfred Benjamin Gawler (1873–1954), Secretary of the Washington branch of the National Funeral Directors’ Association, asserted, “I think [repatriation] would be a great mistake … No one outside of our profession realizes what a gigantic undertaking it is … most of the undertakers thought the plan impracticable”.21 In contrast, supporters of repatriation saw leaving the dead abroad as exploitative. George Wayne Anderson, testifying before Congress as a representative from a military parents’ association, asserted, “We do not wish our sons’ graves to be viewed by the idle tourists or to be used as a source of profit by the French people”.22 Even before the cessation of hostilities French citizens began to tend and adopt individual American graves. French and American periodicals typically publicized these acts as expressions of gratitude. Nonetheless advocates of repatriation construed their efforts as exploitative, not altruistic. Similarly, the BHSD argued that leaving the dead abroad allowed the “sinister” French to “[commercialize] the graves of the American soldiers” in order to profit from the imminent tourist trade. Within these debates, opponents and supporters of repatriation imagined the dead as politically and economically valuable ­assets that demanded protection.

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See “Brent Wants Dead to Stay in France”, New York Times, (January 16, 1920), 8 and “Objection to Bringing Home Soldier Dead”, New York Times, (January 18, 1920), sec 8, 9. “Objection to Bringing Home Soldier Dead”, 9. U.S. Congress, “Return of the Military Dead Buried in France”, 68.

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In their testimonies before Congress, politicians, military officials, NOK, and veterans groups presented contrasting interpretations of familial and national funerary traditions as evidence in support of their preferred repatriation policies. Supporters of repatriation cited the Burial Corps’ recovery and return of some 5,931 decedents following the Spanish-American War in 1898 as evidence that bringing home the dead was an American tradition.23 In contrast, opponents insisted that it was unethical to disturb the dead who rested in hallowed ground. However, they failed to mention that disinterment and re-interment occurred no matter where the dead were ultimately buried.24 The government’s repatriation of the Spanish-American War dead, they pointed out, was actually an anomaly. Historically, the military left the war dead where they fell, as lack of efficient transportation, modern identification, and embalming techniques made repatriation basically impossible.25 Concerned parents provided compelling ethical arguments in Congressional hearings on the matter. They understood repatriation as a means of facilitating personal, familial, and national mourning. Anderson testified that he “look[ed] forward to some indefinite time in the future when our sons’ bodies will be brought back to us, and we will have a funeral in our families. It is a matter we want to get behind us. Our wives want those bodies. They want to visit those graves”.26 For NOK, memorialization was not necessarily about nationalism or foreign relations, but grieving. The distance and expense to travel to Europe would prohibit many from visiting the graves of their relatives, thus, inhibiting their ability to come to terms with personal loss and, inevitably, the outcome of the war.27 Congress came to a stalemate on the issue as it recognized the importance of mourning and memorialization to familial and national healing. Media coverage of Roosevelt’s death and burial positioned overseas burial as a viable and worthy option for the American war dead and appeased the fears of many NOK about the proper care of their deceased relatives. The Times reported, “The heroic death of Captain Aviator Quentin Roosevelt … adds a 23 24 25 26 27

Edward Steere, “National Cemeteries and Memorials in Global conflict”, Quartermaster Review, (November–December 1953). Accessed November 15, 2014. http://www.qmfound .com/national_cemeteries_and_memorials_in_global_conflict.htm. For a more thorough discussion of disinterment and American nationalism see Michael Kammen, Digging Up the Dead (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2011). This tradition was first recorded by the ancient Athenians, who left all, but a few token dead, on the battlefield and inscribed their graves with a single star. Robin, Enclaves of America, 32. U.S. Congress, “Return of the Military Dead Buried in France”, 68. See Hayes, “A Report to the Secretary of War on American Military Dead Overseas”, 66 and “Return of the Military Dead Buried in France”.

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new page of glory and mourning to the history of the time honored friendship which unites France and America in fraternity of arms for the defense of the eternal law and the liberties of the world”.28 The Municipal Council of Paris sympathized: “France will devoutly guard the glorious tomb, which is considered to be a sacred spot”.29 This sentiment was confirmed by media reports of French and American veterans, as well as expatriates celebrating America’s Memorial Day and Independence Day at the American cemeteries. Coverage of the events described the celebrations as a way for both countries’ citizens to pay their respect, recall the two nations’ shared struggles for democracy, and affirm their dedication to caring for the dead.30 Reports flooded the U.S. that French citizens adopted the graves of American soldiers, leaving mementos, celebrating anniversaries, tending overgrowth, and, occasionally, corresponding with American relatives.31 These accounts sought to assuage domestic fears concerning the proper care of decedents by ensuring that America’s allies were worthy and eager custodians of the dead. Furthermore, they established a transnational discourse of mourning that was adopted by the military and the government as part of their repatriation and memorialization policy. The Roosevelt’s very public decision to leave their son abroad and its media coverage presented a model for repatriation and memorialization that set the precedent for postwar memorialization. No matter what the government wanted to do with the dead, in this case leave them abroad as monuments to America’s power, it recognized that it could not entirely dictate their memorialization as grieving NOK had a right to the bodies of their deceased relatives. Consequently, Congress officially recognized, on December 4, 1919, that interment decisions were “personal and the matter too intimate and holy to warrant official intervention”.32 By allowing NOK to dictate the interment locations of the war dead, the government was able to simultaneously facilitate 28 29 30 31

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“French Honor ‘Heroic Death: Quentin Roosevelt’s War Record an Inspiration, Says the Temps”, New York Times (July 19, 1918), 13. “Condole with Roosevelt”, New York Times (Oct. 2, 1918), 1. See “French join Americans in celebrating Fourth”, The New York Herald, Paris, July 5, 1926 and “Memorial Day in France”, New York Times (June 1, 1920), 14. See Theodore Rousseau to Editor of Louisville Courier, Nov. 20, 1939, no page; Folder 687, Cemeteries 1923 through 1939; Box 157, Decimal Subject File Concerning the Construction and Maintenance of Cemeteries and Monuments; Records of the American battle Monument Commission, RG 117; NACP; and Clifford V. Church to Albert Lee Dodds, Chairman, Graves Decoration Committee, May 30, 1938; Folder 335.2 Decorations 1938; Dedication File 161; Records of the American Battle Monument Commission, RG 117; NACP. White, “Our Soldier Dead”. For the official resolution see U.S. Cong. House, “House of Representatives Committee on Foreign Affairs”, Jan. 13, 1920 (Washington, D.C.: Government Printing Office, 1920), 3.

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the funerary traditions of its citizens and memorialize the nation’s war effort for political purposes. The policy reaffirmed the government’s dedication to providing a “good” national death and, thus, confirmed the centrality of familial, cultural, and social traditions to the project of imagining the nation.

Negotiating a “Good” International Death

Once Congress solidified its recovery policy, it took the QMC years to exhume, transport, repatriate, and reinter the dead, as well as design, construct, and dedicate the American cemeteries abroad. The process began in 1919 when the War Department sent out some 75,000 questionnaires, surveying NOK on their preferences for the burial of their relatives. Assessing the survey returns, Hayes reported that the QMC was to inter approximately 31,591, or forty percent, of the 116,516 war dead in eight cemeteries abroad.33 While the QMC repatriated some 46,520 decedents, less than 5,800 were interred in extant domestic national cemeteries. These statistics indicate that NOK saw memorialization as an individual and familial matter. While the War Department worked diligently to honor NOK requests, demonstrating its commitment to serving the public, the democratic interment options allowed it to claim a portion of the dead as its own. Throughout the 1920s, Congress appropriated massive resources to the development of overseas cemeteries and made little to no plans for domestic expansion or memorialization efforts. This decision suggests that the government saw its investment in providing a “good” international death as a political undertaking, a way to negotiate American power abroad, in addition to facilitating cultural and social traditions. The government’s commitment to fulfill NOK’s repatriation requests set America’s memorialization efforts apart from those of its allies. During the war, the U.K. decided to not repatriate its war dead, regardless of NOK’s wishes. Wherever forty or more bodies were interred, the Imperial War Graves Commission (IWGC) constructed a military cemetery. While this policy was previously adopted in the British colonies, it was fully implemented for the first time during WWI. The IWGC established more than 2,400 cemeteries in the decade following the war.34 The sheer quantity of Commonwealth graves and cemeteries 33 34

Fourteen percent of the questionnaires were not returned and twenty-six percent of the NOK requested loved ones remain abroad. Hayes, “A report to the Secretary of War on American Military Dead Overseas”, 15 and 66. “First World War”, Commonwealth Graves Commission website. Accessed November 15, 2014. http://www.cwgc.org/about-us/history-of-cwgc/first-world-war.aspx.

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communicated the vast extent of the nation’s contributions to the war effort.35 The French government established the Service Général des Pensions in 1916 to handle and care for its war dead. Following the war, it formed the National Commission on Military Sepulchers to oversee the post-war reorganization and development of “necropolis nationales” throughout Europe. The Treaty of Versailles helped facilitate the Allied trend of leaving the war dead on or near the battlefield. Under the provisions of the treaty all Allied and Central Power governments were required to respect and maintain “the graves of the soldiers and sailors buried in their respective territories” and allow “suitable memorials” to be erected “over the said graves”.36 Together these exemplars presented transnational memorialization as the contemporary European standard. The U.S. government pushed against the established Allied norm in order to accommodate the funerary traditions of its citizens. Its repatriation requests engendered resistance from the Allied governments and necessitated international negotiations.37 Speaking on behalf of the British government, the British Vice Consul expressed hesitancy and discouragement when the GRS first broached the topic. “Any concessions to the Americans in this respect”, he asserted, “would make great difficulties for the War Office”, which enforced the U.K.’s mandate against repatriation.38 Likewise, the Belgian government expressed “considerable embarrassment” in relation to the U.S. government’s “insistent demands” for repatriation.39 The French government was the only host nation to take official action on the matter, instituting a blanket prohibition on the exhumation of all war dead buried in the “military zone”. Recovery and repatriation by any nation, the French government announced, would not 35

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For a comprehensive study of British memorialization efforts see Philip Longworth, Unending Vigil: The History of the Commonwealth War Graves Commission (London: Constable Press, 1967) and Julie Summers, Remembered: The History of the Commonwealth War Graves Commission (Princeton, NC: Merrill Publishing, 2007). “Treaty of Peace between Allied and Associated Powers and Germany and Protocol”, Part VI. Prisoners of War and Graves, Section 11 Graves, Article 225, June 28, 1919. Accessed November 15, 2015. http://www.loc.gov/law/help/us-treaties/bevans/m-ust000002–0043. pdf. See “L’Ambassadeur De La République Français Aux États Unis a Son Excellences Monsieur Millerand, Minstère Des Affaires Étrangères: Exhumation des morts américains”,; Dossier 17, États-Unis , no 170, Cimetières militaries Américaines en France, Amérique, 1918–1929; Sous-Direction D’ Amèrique, Armée, cimetières-cérémonies, monuments, militariries, américains en France, Mars 1919-Décembre 1921; Série B, Carton 11, Direction Des Affaires Politiques et Commerciales; France, Ministère des Affaires Étrangères (MAE), Archives Diplomatique (Paris). “Transport of bodies of American Soldiers from France to England”, October 30 1920, HO 45/10973/409691, File HO 9691, U.K. National Archives. Quoted in Budreau, Bodies of War, 42.

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be permitted, as all domestic resources were needed for rebuilding the nation’s infrastructure. This decision was reiterated following a public health scare initiated by the American military’s disinterment of “putrefied” bodies from a temporary cemetery in the French countryside.40 While the expressed reasoning behind the French government’s resistance was understandable, at the core of their reluctance, and that of the U.K. and Belgium, was a desire to, in the words of Chaplain Pierce, prevent the nation from becoming a “veritable charnel house”.41 The “gruesome horrors of millions of (American) bodies … on their trains”, Pierce asserted, would destroy the delicate public morale of a people who already suffered so dearly during the war.42 While the U.S. government respected the recovery and mourning approaches of its allies, they were determined to fulfill American NOK’s wishes. In the fall of 1919, Congress voted to request an exemption from the French prohibition on exhumation. The French Premier and the U.S. State Department formed an international commission to negotiate the matter. The records of the commission reveal that each nation mediated the interests of their own citizens alongside their government’s political and foreign pursuits. “It has been our habit to bring back the remains of the dead”, Chaplain Brent wrote to the French Ambassador. “Like all traditions, this is deep-seated in the minds of many people … Our government is under a pledge and cannot draw back”.43 In response, the French Ambassador insisted that his country could not “give priority to the United States over France in the making of disinterments”. To persuade the French government otherwise, American representatives emphasized the ethical and emotional arguments raised by NOK during the domestic decision-making process. America’s physical distance from Europe, Brent argued, was so great that burial abroad put an unreasonable economic, 40

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“Exhumations dans le cimetière Américain de Lambezellec”, 8 Mai 1919; Dossier 17, États-Unis , no 170, Cimetières militaries Américaines en France, Amérique, 1918–1929; Sous-Direction D’ Amèrique, Armée, cimetières-cérémonies, monuments, militariries, américains en France, Mars 1919-Décembre 1921; Série B, Carton 11, Direction Des Affaires Politiques et Commerciales; MAE, Paris. Major Charles C. Pierce to French Commission, Cmdr, April 6, 1919, American Expeditionary Forces Records, RG 120; NACP. Excerpt from Conference between French Commission for Military Graves and the American Graves Registration, April, 1919, quoted in Hayes, “A Report to the Secretary of War on American Military Cemeteries Abroad”. “Return of the Military Dead Buried in France”. See also Budreau, 47–48. Charles Henry Brent to Jean Jules Jusserand, French Ambassador to the United States, February 3, 1920; Dossier 17, États-Unis , no 170, Cimetières militaries Américaines en France, Amérique, 1918–1929; Sous-Direction D’ Amèrique, Armée, cimetières-cérémonies, monuments, militariries, américains en France, Mars 1919-Décembre 1921; Série B, Carton 11, Direction Des Affaires Politiques et Commerciales; MAE, Paris.

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physical, and emotional burden on NOK.44 Recognizing the importance of familial mourning, the French government dropped the repatriation ban in 1920 on the condition that the American government “limit[s] the return of bodies to those whose removal to America is requested specifically by their relatives”.45 Regardless of their differences, both nations exemplified mutual respect in their negotiations as they claimed to represent the best interests of their citizens. Subsequent negotiations and the physical development of the cemeteries indicated that political interests and foreign relations were central to interwar memorialization and the American government’s conception of the nation. While the QMC consolidated decedents for repatriation and re-interment abroad beginning in February 1920, the government pursued its plan to transform the temporary war cemeteries into a monumental map of the nation’s contributions to the Great War. The cemetery locations were determined by both the course of the conflict, which left dead scattered in densely concentrated areas, and contemporary foreign relations.46 The GRS disinterred all war dead from enemy territory in Germany and Austro-Hungary and subsequently transported them to permanent American cemeteries in France and Belgium. As a means to justify the removal of the dead from Russia, America’s wartime ally, U.S. military officials alluded to postwar political unrest. They cited the Bolshevik Revolution as evidence that Russia did not support America’s democratic ideals and, therefore, could not properly care for fallen patriots. The GRS’ repatriation of American dead from all nations with divergent politics and ideologies indicated that American interests were not secure in these regions; that the nation did not gain territory, political ties, or establish transnational alliances as a result of the war. 44

45

46

Letter to Monsieur Aristide Briand, Président du Conseil, N/D; Dossier 17, États-Unis , no 170, Cimetières militaries Américaines en France, Amérique, 1918–1929; Sous-Direction D’ Amèrique, Armée, cimetières-cérémonies, monuments, militariries, américains en France, Mars 1919-Décembre 1921; Série B, Carton 11, Direction Des Affaires Politiques et Commerciales; MAE, Paris. Quoted in Hayes, “A Report to the Secretary of War on American Military Cemeteries Abroad”, 30. See also “Washington”, January 6, 1920; Dossier 17, États-Unis , no 170, Cimetières militaries Américaines en France, Amérique, 1918–1929; Sous-Direction D’ Amèrique, Armée, cimetières-cérémonies, monuments, militariries, américains en France, Mars 1919-Décembre 1921; Série B, Carton 11, Direction Des Affaires Politiques et Commerciales; MAE, Paris. Brigadier General Thomas North to John Harbeson, March 1, 1948; Folder 231.24 Architects, Draftsmen, Etc. 1946-; Box 143, Decimal Subject File Concerning the Construction and Maintenance of Cemeteries and Monuments; Records of the American battle Monument Commission, RG 177; NACP.

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The War Department’s selection of cemetery host countries further demonstrated that the American government’s investment in providing a “good” international death was, in part, a product of postwar international politics. Together, the Assistant Secretary of War, the General of the Armies, and the Quartermaster General selected eight cemetery sites based on proximity to major battle sites, significance to the American campaign, and the percentage and location of decedents who, based on NOK replies, were to remain abroad.47 While the selection criteria allowed the process to appear objective, the U.S. only left its dead in Allied nations. They chose one site in the U.K., one in Belgium, and six in France. Although the GRS’ consolidation and burial of decedents was underway and the cemetery sites were already selected, it was not until 1922 that Congress officially invested the War Department with the authority to acquire land in foreign countries.48 In doing so, the U.S. government followed international law, which “prohibit[s] one government from securing a complete title to land in another country except for embassy purposes”.49 Consequently, the U.S. government directly negotiated bi-lateral agreements with the host governments to establish permanent overseas cemeteries. In the process, the U.S. government eternally enlisted the dead as ambassadors for American democracy. America’s right to leave its war dead abroad was, for the most part, not questioned nor debated by the host governments as the request adhered to the contemporary Western European standard.50 The first finalized agreement was for 47

48 49

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See “Record Of Proceedings, Forty-Ninth Meeting American Battle Monuments Commission”, February 13, 1947 and John J. Pershing to Brigadier General Robert G. Woodside, Nov. 1, 1946; Folder 687, World War II Cemeteries (7–1–47) (12–31–47); Box 156, Monument Commission: Decimal Subject File Concerning the Construction and Maintenance of Cemeteries and Monument; Records of the American battle Monument Commission, RG 117; NACP; and Brigadier General Thomas North to John Harbeson, March 1, 1948; Folder 231.24 Architects, Draftsmen, Etc. 1946-; Box 143, Decimal Subject File Concerning the Construction and Maintenance of Cemeteries and Monuments; Records of the American battle Monument Commission, RG 117. See U.S. Cong. House. HJ Res. 263, “Cemeteries for American military dead in Europe”, 67th Congress. 2nd Session, April 1, 1922. John J. Pershing to Secretary of State, 8 March 1926; Folder 600.12 Projects 8–16–21 to 12– 31–25; Box 153, Decimal Subject File Concerning the Construction and Maintenance of Cemeteries and Monuments; Records of the American battle Monument Commission, RG 117; NACP. Prior to the announcement of the U.S.’s official policy, the French government determined it would offer the necessary land for interment plus excess land to create “proper fields of honor”. It proffered and encouraged such an offer to show its everlasting gratitude for the lives lost on French soil. See Le Directeur de l’Office de Liquidation Franco-Américan to Monsieur le Ministre des Affaires Éstrangères, 5 Janvier 1921, 2 and Letter to Monsieur

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the Brookwood American Cemetery in Brookwood, U.K. The negotiations were unique as the burial ground was located within the confines of the London Necropolis Company (LNC), a private cemetery. Under the provisions of the U.K.’s Cemeteries Clauses Act of 1847, the LNC was authorized to sell or lease in perpetuity parcels of land for burial.51 This legislation allowed the U.S. to bury its dead at Brookwood without having to go through the U.K. government. Following the cessation of hostilities, the LNC offered the American military burial space for soldiers who died during the war.52 The U.S. paid £5,500 for the perpetual use of just over four acres of land and the authority to layout graves, paths, and walkways, as well as construct memorials, a records office, and a tool-house.53 As the 453 American decedents buried at Brookwood were initially interred within the U.K., the U.S. exhumed and transported their remains under the provisions of the Versailles Treaty. While the agreement with the LNC enabled the nation to leave a memorial reminder of its war effort within a prominent funerary landscape, it did not lead to the expansion of rights or special privileges for the U.S. abroad. The LNC extended the offer for perpetual burial space to all Allied nations, which engendered a funerary landscape that embodied the national mourning and war memorialization practices of all Allied nations. Thus, America’s memorialization efforts do not stand out as unique or monumental. Instead, at Brookwood, America is on equal footing with its European allies, suggesting that mourning and memorialization encouraged international solidarity. The U.S. government negotiated directly with both France and Belgium. The resultant contracts, which were the end result of years of formal and informal meetings and exchanges of notes, extended America’s reach into foreign politics and the cultural lives of Allied nations. The deliberations focused on the consolidation of the dead and the development process. The Belgian and

51 52 53

Aristide Briand, Président du Conseil, N/D; Dossier 17, États-Unis , no 170, Cimetières militaries Américaines en France, Amérique, 1918–1929; Sous-Direction D’ Amèrique, Armée, cimetières-cérémonies, monuments, militariries, américains en France, Mars 1919–Décembre 1921; Série B, Carton 11, Direction Des Affaires Politiques et Commerciales; MAE, Paris. “United States War Cemeteries in the United Kingdom;” The National Archives of the U.K. (TNA): File No. 522, American, 1944; AN 144, Foreign Office (FO) 371/38645. “The War Office: Brookwood – Surrey Officer of Land for Interment of soldiers dying from wounds received in action”, Aug. 29, 14; TNA: WO 32/18165. “Grant No. 13771 of 4.36 acres in Brookwood Cemetery, Woking to the Government of the United States of America”, September 12, 1922; Folder Brookwood 1922; Box 178, Agreements with Foreign Countries; Records of the American Battle Monuments Commission, RG 117; NACP.

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French governments agreed to purchase the necessary property and, then, granted or sold it to the U.S. in perpetuity. The agreements gave the U.S. government all responsibility for the land and its development, allowing the U.S. government to establish a physical presence in and a permanent link to the host countries. The Franco-American negotiations were the most complicated as the GRS interred the bulk of America’s war dead in France. At the conclusion of the war the French government offered the U.S. government land for the establishment of “proper fields of honor” as a way to show the nation’s continuing gratitude for the lives lost on French soil.54 The War Department established six American cemeteries in France at Aisne-Marne, Meuse-Argonne, Oise-Aisne, Somme, St. Mihiel, and, Suresnes, on land originally held by various individuals and municipalities. Two sites, Meuse-Argonne and Suresnes, were offered to the U.S. government free of charge.55 Sitting upon a hill overlooking Paris, Suresnes American Cemetery is within the grounds of Fort Mont-Valérien, a former religious hermitage and pilgrimage site that was frequented by Thomas Jefferson (1743–1826). At the time of WWI, the site was a military garrison, built by Napoleon I (1769–1821) in 1811 to protect the capital from foreign invaders. Together, the municipality of Suresnes and Fort Mont-Valérien offered the land to the U.S. government to bury its war dead who perished in Parisian hospitals due to war wounds or the influenza epidemic of 1918/1919. This gesture was significant in that the site, its geography, built environment, and memorial architecture, embodied France’s struggle for democracy.56 By allowing the U.S. to establish a cemetery upon Mont-Valérien, the French government and military recognized and memorialized their ally’s contributions to their struggle for democracy. 54

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See Le Directeur de l’Office de Liquidation Franco-Américan to Monsieur le Ministre des Affaires Éstrangères, 5 Janvier 1921, 2 and Letter to Monsieur Aristide Briand, Président du Conseil, N/D; Dossier 17, États-Unis , no 170, Cimetières militaries Américaines en France, Amérique, 1918–1929; Sous-Direction D’ Amèrique, Armée, cimetières-cérémonies, monuments, militariries, américains en France, Mars 1919-Décembre 1921; Série B, Carton 11, Direction Des Affaires Politiques et Commerciales; MAE, Paris. 1st Lt. F.A. Thomas North to Secretary of A.B.M.C, June 15, 1927; Folder 293.6 Inscriptions 1923–1928; Box 147, Decimal Subject File Concerning the Construction and Maintenance of Cemeteries and Monuments; Records of the American battle Monument Commission, RG 117; NACP. The Aisne-Marne American Cemetery is located at the edge of Belleau Wood where the Allies halted a German offensive set to capture Paris. The site gained further significance during and following WWII as the Nazis captured the fort and executed numerous French leaders and dissidents on the site.

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Through negotiations, the U.S., French, and Belgian governments demonstrated that they were allies on and off the battlefield, even when their own citizens were involved. Each bi-lateral agreement included a provision that if any conflicts arose concerning the cemeteries with owners or tenants of adjoining lands the host government would intervene on behalf of the U.S. In the case of Aisne-Marne American Cemetery, landowners resisted selling their property at the French government’s requested rate.57 The owner’s resistance indicated that not all French people prioritized the American memorialization of the war, as both countries’ media and governments claimed. In response, the French government initiated condemnation proceedings and forced the owners to sell the land at what was considered a “fair” price.58 Through this intervention, the French government affirmed French-American relations. The international negotiations for the repatriation of the American war dead and the establishment of American cemeteries abroad transformed the U.S. government’s investment in providing a “good” national death into an international concern that imagined the memorialization of the dead as a form of political capital.

The Politics of Developing a “Democratic” International Memorial Aesthetic

During the interwar years, the NCS expanded its funerary landscapes to unchartered geographic locales and adapted classical aesthetics in an attempt to present a democratic and powerful national image. The NCS’ WWI funerary architecture, memorial chapels, and nationalistic iconography were not revolutionary, but, as the product of a modern transatlantic discourse on mourning and memorialization, the institution’s expanded geography embodied the State’s emergent global power and the nation’s transition from a rural to an urban, industrial nation. Contemporary artists and architects attacked the cemeteries’ aesthetics. The American Institute of Architects (AIA) argued that the overseas cemeteries employed “architectural forms belonging to an 57

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“Cimetières Américaines de Bony, Belleau, Seringes & Nesles et Thiaucourt”, 15 Férvier 1922; Dossier 17, États-Unis, no 170, Cimetières militaries Américaines en France, Amérique, 1918–1929; Sous-Direction D’ Amèrique, Armée, cimetières-cérémonies, monuments, militariries, américains en France, Janvier 1911– Mai 1924; Série B, Carton 11, Direction Des Affaires Politiques et Commerciales; MAE, Paris. “Completion report on construction of permanent American military cemeteries in Europe”, February 4, 1926; Box 1A, Proceedings of the Commission, Records of the American Battle Monuments Commission, RG 117; NACP.

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aristocratic culture of the past” that did not recognize “the world of reality” or the “’dynamic’ nature of American society”.59 By focusing on the ABMC’s failure to develop a uniquely American aesthetic, critics neglected the fact that these sites were first and foremost burial grounds that contained the remains of individual soldiers.60 As such, they were supposed to facilitate mourning and encourage healing. Thus, the NCS’ interwar evolution emerged out of a transnational and domestic discourse that turned to recognized traditions in order to come to terms with the war and the death it engendered. The efforts of the interwar NCS and ABMC were not so much a compromise or a failure, but part of a multi-decade process of reinvention and modernization. The character of this development was a part and product of the government’s early-twentieth century project to contain its memorial landscapes as a means to articulate a cohesive national identity. Until the turn of the nineteenth century, the government was somewhat reluctant to invest in commemorative activities beyond the national cemeteries. Instead, private patrons, interest groups, veterans associations, ethnic organizations, and lobbyists initiated the majority of the nation’s memorial efforts. As a result, Washington, D.C. was awash with statue monuments dedicated to the feats of various great men.61 Concerned that the unregulated memorial landscape presented a disparate and tension-filled vision of the nation, the government embarked on its most extensive memorial project since the inception of the NCS. Inspired by Pierre L’Enfant’s (1754–1825) 1791 plan for the city, the Senate Park Commission (SPC) devised and implemented the McMillian Plan between 1904 and 1935.62 The committee redeveloped the capitol’s memorial geography in order manufacture a national pilgrimage site that would encourage the nation’s disparate population to unite. Congress established the Commission of Fine Arts (CFA), in 1910, “to guide the architectural development of Washington so that the capital city would reflect, in stateliness and grandeur, the emergence of the United States as a world power”.63 Under the aesthetic guidance of the CFA, the SPC leveled the 19th century Mall and its meandering walks, indigenous and freegrowing foliage, and ethnically, racially, and economically diverse neighborhoods. In their place, the SPC constructed a neoclassical memorial landscape, 59 60 61 62 63

Quoted in Robin, Enclaves of America, 55. Robin, Enclaves of America, xii. See Bodnar, Remaking America; Corn, The Great American Thing; Kammen, Mystic Chords of Memory; and Kirk Savage, Monument Wars (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2009) and Standing Soldiers, Kneeling Slaves (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1997). The plan was named for SPC chair Senator James McMillian. Sue Kohler, The Commission of Fine Arts (Washington, D.C.: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1914), 1.

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organized by axial boulevards, green spaces, and prominent monuments as prescribed by modern urban planners. The McMillan Plan established a national standard for memorialization that influenced the NCS’ international development. The NCS’ overseas expansion extended the McMillian Plan’s aesthetics, spatial layout, and memorialization of national trauma and triumph to the transnational commemoration of the Great War. In early 1921, the Secretary of War, three members of the CFA, and a landscape architect traveled to Europe to prepare preliminary plans. They concluded that a centralized agency was necessary to supervise the erection of markers, memorials, and cemeteries. To this end, the Secretary of War asked Congress for the creation of the American Battle Monuments Commission (ABMC) in 1922.64 The resultant commission consisted of three representatives of veterans’ organizations, a Gold Star Mother, a congressman (Senator David Reed), a chairman (General Pershing) and an Executive Secretary (Major Xenephon H. Price). Although the ABMC was a civil agency, which was supposed to represent the traditions of Americans, its primary decision-makers were military officials who mediated the memorial requests of the citizenry for political and martial purposes. Much like the planners of the twentieth century national Mall, the QMC, under the supervision of Major Archibald H. Barkley (1872–1937), removed all extant American memorials throughout Europe and consolidated the dead for burial and repatriation.65 Considering the McMillian Plan’s spatial design and the character of contemporary cemeteries, the QMC organized its cemeteries around broad, axial or grid avenues, typically lined with native trees or shrubbery. The avenues were flanked by rectangular or square plots of uniform headstones, arranged in evenly spaced rows and set among sprawling, well-manicured lawns.66 Upon entering the cemetery grounds through ornate

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“Completion report on construction of permanent American military cemeteries in Europe”, February 4 1926; Box 1A; Records of the American Battle Monuments Commission: Proceedings of the Commission, RG 117; NACP. See U.S. Cong. House, House Resolution (H.R.) 10801, “For the Creation of an American Battle Monuments Commission”, 67th Congress, 2nd Session, Dec., 1922. For media coverage of this regulation see New York Times, (Dec. 14, 1931), p. 21. See “Erection of War Memorials”, Nov. 7, 1946, ND; Folder 336.01 international Agreements 9/3/26 t 8 May 1950; Box 178, Agreements with Foreign Countries; Records of the American Battle Monuments Commission, RG 117; NACP. Charles Moore to Xenophon Price, Jan 12 1924; Folder 468 Headstones 1–1–23 to 12–31–36; Box 152, Decimal Subject File Concerning the Construction and Maintenance of Cemeteries and Monuments; Records of the American Battle Monument Commission, RG 117; NACP.

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Figure 1

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Central avenue at Suresnes American Cemetery (photograph by author).

gates, visitors first encountered a sea of white crosses. The Suresnes American Cemetery is exemplary of the City Beautiful-inspired burial ground (see Fig. 1). The cemetery is located upon the slope of a hill and can be reached by a series of widespread steps. The entrance is a gilded, wrought iron gate that leads to a central avenue of well-manicured grass, lined by clipped linden trees. Headstones set among expansive lawns, extend in arcs on both sides of the central avenue, leading upwards to the neoclassical chapel (see Fig. 2). This layout drew visitors in, encouraged them to immerse themselves amidst the graves and reflect on the cost of war. In this regard, the QMC used modern urban planning to order and make palatable the war’s death and destruction, creating a foundation for the ABMC’s memorial narrative. The ABMC’s cemetery development was a collaborative process through which the U.S. government negotiated domestic and foreign interests in order to create “suitable memorials commemorating the services of the American soldier in Europe”.67 The CFA selected Paul Philippe Cret (1876–1945), a French architect trained at the École des Beaux-Arts, a professor at the University of 67

Cret, “United States Monument Near Chateau Thierry”.

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Figure 2

Field of Latin Crosses leading up to the Suresnes American Cemetery Chapel (photograph by author).

Pennsylvania, and a WWI veteran, as the supervising architect for the project. While he had no experience with funerary architecture, the CFA presumed that his artistic background, professional experience, and French origins made him the ideal interpreter of American funerary traditions for foreign audiences.68 Together, the CFA and Cret handpicked the individual cemetery architects from members of the American Institute of Architects (AIA) and the National Sculpture Society (NSS) to verify their mastery of neo-classical designs and guarantee memorial continuity across the cemeteries.69 Under Cret’s guidance and supervision, each architect hired landscape architects, sculptors, and artists to assist in designing non-denominational memorial chapels, memorials listing the names of the missing and unidentified, relief maps that documented America’s war efforts, and appropriate landscaping befitting of each cemetery’s respective geography and climate. While the host countries 68 69

Cret personally designed the chapel at Flanders Field American Cemetery and the monuments at the Somme, Gibraltar, and Chateau Thierry. Theo B. White, ed. Paul Philippe Cret: Architect and Teacher (Cranbury, NJ: Associated ­University Presses, Inc., 1973).

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willingly accommodated many of the American government’s demands, the bi-lateral agreements granted both France and Belgium a say in all design, construction, and memorialization decisions to ensure that the memorial architecture was legible to American, foreign, and local audiences. The primary American architects were charged with finding and employing local representatives to visit the cemetery sites, select potential contractors, secure proper authorizations, and supervise all development and construction.70 Subsequently, the local representatives created, according to Brigadier General Thomas North, “expressions of the intent of the architect in the French (British or Belgian) language and in local practices”.71 The designs were then sent to host governments for approval. For instance, the ABMC had to consult France’s Committee on Historical Monuments, the Ministry of Public Instruction and Fine Arts, and the French War Department before initiating a development project within one of the American cemeteries in France.72 While such compromises contributed to the cemeteries’ lack of architectural and symbolic originality, they allowed the government to mediate a cooperative memorialization process that engendered internationally intelligible funerary landscapes and demonstrated America’s democratic ideals. The ABMC architects and artists’ neo-classical aesthetics and allegorical iconography simultaneously aimed to respect the architectural traditions of host countries, glorify the dead, and monumentalize the nation’s war effort.73 70

71

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T. H. Elliot to Lehalle & Levard, September 26, 1926; Folder 231.24 Architects, Draftsmen, Etc. 1946; Box 142, Decimal Subject File Concerning the Construction and Maintenance of Cemeteries and Monuments; Records of the American battle Monument Commission RG 117; NACP. Brigadier Thomas North to General Walter Krueger, ABMC, December 20, 1946; Folder, 231.241 Local Representatives 1946; Box, 144, Decimal Subject File Concerning the Construction and Maintenance of Cemeteries and Monuments; Records of the American battle Monument Commission RG 117; NACP. See Le Chef du Service de Liaison près le Service Americain des Sépultures”, 9 Novembre 1921; Dossier 17, États-Unis, no 170, Cimetières militaries Américaines en France, Amérique, 1918–1929; Sous-Direction D’ Amèrique, Armée, cimetières-cérémonies, monuments, militariries, américains en France, Mars 1919–Décembre 1921; Série B, Carton 11, Direction Des Affaires Politiques et Commerciales; MAE, Paris; and “Article I: Agreement between The United States and France for the acquisition of sites for monuments which the American Battle Monuments Commission is to erect in France”, 1927; Folder 336.01 international Agreements 9/3/26 t 8 May 1950; Box 178, Agreements with Foreign Countries Box 178; Records of the American battle Monument Commission RG 117; NACP. “Summary of the Work of the American Battle Monuments Commission in Europe”, April 1930; Folder 600.12 Projects 1–1–30 to 12–31–34; Box 153, Decimal Subject File Concerning the Construction and Maintenance of Cemeteries and Monuments; Records of the American battle Monument Commission RG 117; NACP.

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Suresnes American Cemetery Chapel (photograph by author).

Cret encouraged ABMC architects to rely on a Beaux-Arts’ aesthetic, which was rather ubiquitous throughout Western Europe, because it had the ability to transcend space and time and, therefore, appeal to diverse audiences.74 The memorial chapel at the Suresnes American Cemetery, designed by architect Charles A. Platt (1861–1933), embodies Cret’s vision. The chapel is an imposing neoclassical structure, constructed of Val d’Arion limestone and perched at the precipice of the cemetery grounds on Paris’ Mont-Valérien. Steps span the width of the edifice, meeting at a peristyle supported by four Doric columns (see Fig. 3). The structures’ symmetry and traditional design elements situate it within a national and international lineage of democratic architecture, which included the recently constructed Lincoln memorial and Paris’ École des Beaux-Arts. The central feature of the chapel’s interior is a mosaic mural; designed by Barry Faulkner (1881–1966) (see Fig. 4). Situated on the chapel’s rear wall and framed by two Doric columns, the mosaic depicts a wingedfemale, shrouded in white, carrying a palm branch. The allegorical figure 74 Robin, Enclaves of America, 55.

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Figure 4

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“Angel of Victory”, Suresnes American Cemetery Chapel (photograph by author).

resembles the ancient Greek and Roman Victory, a “winged, female figure … who descended to earth to crown the victor in a contest of arms” with “a crown … and a palm branch”.75 In classical symbolism the palm branch represents virginal martyrdom and a veil denotes innocence. The “Angel of Victory”, as the ABMC deemed her, looks down upon the rows of graves below as though she is offering the palm branch to the fallen that rest at her feet.76 Together, the neo-classical architecture and the allegorical iconography imagined America and its war dead as honorable and innocent protectors of democracy.77 This impression of aesthetic and monumental continuity with the past attempted to obscure the disruptive, divisive, and violent nature of the Great War and justify the nation’s military intervention as necessities in the national mission to protect and perpetuate liberty.78 In the process, the U.S. government further developed an internationally legible memorial landscape that

75 76 77 78

James Hall, Dictionary of Subjects and Symbolism in Art (New York: Harper & Row, 1979), 321. “Suresnes American Cemetery Visitor Booklet”. Accessed November 1, 2014. http://www .abmc.gov/cemeteries-memorials/europe/suresnes-american-cemetery. Donald Langmead, Icons of American Architecture: From the Alamo to the World Trade Center (Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 2009), 172–174. See Budreau, Bodies of War; Robin, Enclaves of America; and Steven Trout, On The Battlefield of Memory: The First World War and American Remembrance, 1919–1941 (Tuscaloosa: University of Alabama Press, 2010).

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attempted to situate the nation’s contemporary power within an international lineage of democratic ideals. The ABMC’ use of Romanesque architecture and medieval iconography envisioned the Great War as a religious crusade in which America and its allies were on the side, in the words of journalist Chris Hedges (1956), “of the angels”.79 The Aisne-Marne American Cemetery’s memorial chapel sits upon the front line trenches dug by the Second Division as part of the defense of Belleau Wood in June 1918. The French Romanesque structure stands more than eighty feet above the cemetery. Atop the chapel entrance is a sculpted crusader, “defender of right”, flanked by U.S. and French shields. Carved renderings of disembodied weapons, soldiers in action, Latin Crosses, and crusaders are interspersed on the structure’s columns. The soldiers are not depicted as part of a larger war machine, but as individual crusaders, driven by and united under a common cause that supersedes national differences.80 The coupling of crusade-era architecture and imagery with the iconography of modern soldiers and weaponry christens America’s intervention in WWI as a holy crusade. Engraving the iconography of modern warfare upon Romanesque architecture elevated the nation’s military intervention and the violence enacted by and upon its troops to a holy war fought in the name of democracy. Not all of the cemetery iconography was historically minded. A portion of the architects applied modern aesthetics and iconography to memorialize the nation’s contemporary power. The memorial chapel at the Somme American Cemetery designed by George Howe (1886–1955) and dedicated in 1937 is an imposing rectangular structure, in line with the monumentality of the BeauxArts style, but void of classical ornamentation. Instead, it is embellished with the weaponry of modern warfare (see Fig. 5). Above the entrance, sculpted bayonets and rifles flank the inscription, “To those who died for their country”. The exterior sidewalls depict a WWI era tank and an artillery piece. On the chapel’s rear façade, which faces the French countryside, artillery shells bound the proclamation, “Morts Pour La Patrie” (They died for their country). The inscriptions make no specific reference to either America or France, allowing visitors to interpret which country and whose democratic ideals the soldiers died to protect. Although the graves and weaponry act as reminders that war engenders death, the disembodied, oversized munitions and the nationalistic 79

80

Nations, according to Chris Hedges, imagine war as a “crusade” where ”we see ourselves on the side of the angels” and “embrace a theological or ideological belief system that defines itself as the embodiment of goodness and light”. Chris Hedges, War is a Force that Gives us Meaning (New York: Public Affairs, 2002), 9. John J. Pershing, “Our National War Memorials in Europe”, National Geographic (January 1934), 5.

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Figure 5 Chapel at Somme American Cemetery (photograph by author).

inscriptions obscure the actual act of violence. Instead, the weaponry, the result of America’s industrial ingenuity, is presented as the way “freedom” was secured for the U.S. and its allies. With its overseas cemeteries, the ABMC developed an egalitarian mode of memorialization to announce and reinforce America’s democratic ethos abroad. Prior to WWI, the NCS had only recognized those whose physical bodies were available for interment, thus excluding those missing in action, lost at sea, or buried at sea. Departing from this trend, the ABMC requested that each chapel incorporate a space for the listing of the missing in action (MIA) and unrecovered.81 With this approach, the ABMC sought to democratize national memorialization by commemorating all who sacrificed their lives for the country, regardless of the state or location of their bodies. The ABMC also 81

“Tenth Meeting, The American Battle Monuments Commission”, November 21, 1924; Index to the Records of Proceedings of the American Battle Monuments Commission, September 21, 1923 to May 14, 1935; 1st to 37th Meetings and Records of Proceedings 1st to 9th Meetings September 21, 1923, to September 4, 1924 Pages 1 through 25; Records of the American battle Monument Commission RG 117; NACP.

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appropriated an egalitarian mode of burial, as befitting its notion of the war as a fight to “make the world safe for democracy”.82 As the IWGC and the French government did not segregate their graves, the ABMC was compelled to follow suit in order to not stand out as discriminatory among its allies. While the ABMC’s funerary landscapes were integrated, the War Department inscribed each marker with name, rank, unit, division, state of enlistment, date of death, and initials for all decorations awarded.83 Thus, the grave markers do recognize, to a small degree, the diversity of the fallen and the military’s racial and ranked hierarchy. By adopting uniform regulation headstones for all overseas cemeteries, the ABMC created a unified and aesthetically contained funerary landscape that, to a degree, undermined its recognition of the common soldier. In 1922, the War Memorial Council recommended that marble headstones, much like those in extant domestic national cemeteries, replace the temporary wooden crosses that marked the graves of the fallen. A strong opposition, led by the American Legion and the Daughters of the American Revolution (DAR), arose against this iconographic change.84 The temporary wooden crosses in Europe, asserted the National executive Council of the American Legion, “have been the inspiration of our Great War poems … and are fixed in the minds of the Gold Star fathers and mothers and the nation as an impressive emblem of sacrifice for country and humanity”.85 The Latin cross recalls the crucifixion of Jesus and the redemption his sacrifice brought to mankind, implying that, like Christ, American soldiers sacrificed their lives for the betterment and welfare of others. The proliferation of Latin crosses throughout the American cemeteries 82 83

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Wilson, “At War with Germany: Address to Congress”. Secretary of War Dwight M. Davis to Chairman of the ABMC, February 11, 1928 and Lt. Col. Walter Krueger, Jr., “Headstone Inscriptions”, Sept. 30, 1947; Inscriptions for Unknown; Inscriptions on Headstones; Lists of Missing (9–30–47); Box 146, 293.6, Decimal Subject File Concerning the Construction and Maintenance of Cemeteries and Monuments; Records of the American battle Monument Commission RG 117; NACP. “Regulations Concerning Erection of memorial monuments and buildings in the American cemeteries in Europe” in ”Tenth Meeting, The American Battle Monuments Commission, November 21, 1924. Index to the Records of Proceedings of the American Battle Monuments Commission, September 21, 1923 to May 14, 1935; 1st to 37th Meetings and Records of Proceedings 1st to 9th Meetings September 21, 1923, to September 4, 1924 Pages 1 through 25; Records of the American battle Monument Commission RG 117; NACP. “Resolution adopted by National Executive Committee Meeting (American Legion) in Session”, January 14–15, 1926; Folder 468 Headstones 1–1–23 to 12–31–36; Box 152, Decimal Subject File Concerning the Construction and Maintenance of Cemeteries and Monuments; Records of the American battle Monument Commission RG 117; NACP. The most circulated poem that references Great War cemeteries is John McCrae’s “In Flanders Fields” (1915).

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further consecrated the battlefields, individual deaths, and the nation’s democratic ideals as blessed by God. As the draft had led to the diversification of the armed forces, the War Department was compelled to adapt some of its policies, including those of the NCS, to recognize the changing demographics of the military and American society at large. In the four decades leading up to the war, America’s Jewish population increased from about 200,000 to over one million. Nearly 250,000 Jewish soldiers served in the U.S. armed forces during WWI and 3,500 lost their lives. While they made up approximately three percent of America’s population, some five percent of the nation’s total death tolls were attributed to Jewish soldiers.86 Recognizing their relatively high contributions amid the war, the Army allowed soldiers to inscribe “Jewish” on their dog tags. Subsequently, it enlisted its first Jewish chaplains and ordered QMC units to mark the graves of Jewish soldiers with triangular headboards. Following the War Department’s lead, the ABMC unanimously voted to adopt Star of David headstones. While this shift in funerary iconography recognized the national contributions of Jewish soldiers, their continued social, cultural, and legislative marginalization at home demonstrated that inequality still persisted. In reaction to increased immigration, fear of job competition, and a subsiding economic slump, nativist tendencies and anti-Semitism rose during the 1920s in the United States and resulted in the introduction of immigration quotas that targeted Jewish immigrants, among other groups.87 The ABMC’s recognition of Jewish soldiers abroad added slight iconographic variation to the funerary landscapes (see Fig. 6). Nonetheless, the overall visual effect of the cemeteries’ burial plots resembled military units at attention and, thus, invoked the notion that all soldiers were equal in service and death. Such uniformity erased personal experiences and individual sacrifice from the memorial record, indicating that the government saw its memorialization of the dead as a way to present a democratic image abroad.88 The military and the ABMC did not recognize any other religious groups within the overseas funerary landscapes. Instead, the graves of 86

See Eric L. Goldstein, The Price of Whiteness, Jews, Race, and American Identity (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2006), 35 and “American Jewish Committee – Office of War Records”, The American Jewish Historical Society, http://data.jewishgen.org/wconnect/ wc.dll?jg~jgsys~ajhs_pb~r!!205 (last access, November 15, 2014). 87 “Fourth Meeting, The American Battle Monuments Commission, Jan 30, 1924”; Index to the Records of Proceedings of the American Battle Monuments Commission, September 21, 1923 to May 14, 1935; 1st to 37th Meetings and Records of Proceedings 1st to 9th Meetings September 21, 1923, to September 4, 1924 Pages 1 through 25; Records of the American battle Monument Commission RG 117; NACP. 88 Robin, Enclaves of America, 60.

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Figure 6 Jewish headstone at Somme American Cemetery (photograph by author).

all soldiers who did not identify as Christian or Jewish were marked with Latin crosses.89 This decision set America apart from its allies. Both the U.K. and French governments memorialized their respective servicemen’s diverse religious affiliations within their WWI cemeteries. While the marking of Jewish graves brought the nation’s memorialization practices one step closer to acknowledging the plurality of American culture, the continuance and extension of domestic discriminatory practices within the domestic and overseas cemeteries revealed the persistence of systemic and institutional discrimination. Consequently, the ABMC’s efforts created a façade of equality that concealed the country’s deeply entrenched racism and domestic social tensions from an international audience. The Gold Star Mothers (GSM) pilgrimages of the 1930s helped to both affirm and deconstruct the NCS’ ambivalent democratic memorialization. Between 1931 and 1933, the government paid for approximately five thousand mothers to tour France and England and visit the graves of their sons. They participated 89 Budreau, Bodies of War, 122.

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in wreath laying ceremonies, attended formal receptions in their honor, and shared their experiences with French and English war mothers and widows, as well as with prominent government officials.90 “How heartening”, wrote Gold Star Mother Edith McCormick, “to see the kindly French peasants streaming in from every side, their arms filled with flowers for the ‘soldats Américains.”91 The government conceived of these trips as a way to pay tribute to fallen patriots, to assure NOK that their loved ones did not die in vain, strengthen international alliances through mutual mourning and healing, and reaffirm that the war was fought for a noble cause. In the process, the government demonstrated a continued recognition of the importance of familial mourning traditions to the construction of national identity and the affirmation of foreign relations. While the GSM pilgrimages and the ABMC’s supposedly egalitarian burial policies helped confirm the government’s benevolence and reverence for the dead, its treatment of black mothers and soldiers revealed what McCormick described as “a country – which seems to be filled with injustice and ingratitude”.92 Although black and white soldiers rested side-by-side in the overseas cemeteries, the government insisted on segregating the pilgrimages on the grounds that “mothers and widows would prefer to seek solace in their grief from companions of their own race”.93 The Black GSM, with the support of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, protested the “un-American”, segregated trips for their “hypocrisy, not democracy”.94 Despite­a vigorous letter-writing campaign and published editorials, the trips remained segregated. Out of the 624 eligible black mothers and widows, only 168 made the voyage in comparison to the 5,252 white mothers and widows. The black GSM traveled aboard cargo ships and stayed at the YWCA or second-rate hotels, while their white counterparts traveled on luxury liners and 90

The purpose of the Gold Star Mothers’ pilgrimages was, according to the QMC, to see “what had been done by our government to perpetuate the memory of her boy, and of all the other heroic dead who lie in consecrated ground across the sea”. Major Louis, C. Wilson, QMC, “The War Mother Goes ‘Over There,” The Quartermaster Review (May– June, 1930), 21. 91 Edith A. McCormick to Hon. Patrick Hurley, Secretary of War, “An Appreciation”, reprinted in The Quartermaster Review (September-October, 1931). Accessed November 1, 2014. http://www.qmfound.com/war_mother.htm. 92 Ibid. 93 F. H. Payne, Assistant Secretary of War, to Mrs. M. E. Mallette, June 30,1930; Folder GSM Pilgrimage files; Box 345, “Segregation”; Records of the Office of the Quartermaster General, RG 92; NACP. 94 Walter White to Secretary of War, ND, 1930; Folder GSM Pilgrimage files; Boxes 348 and 380 “Segregation”; Records of the Office of the Quartermaster General, RG 92; NACP.

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lodged at fine hotels.95 This segregation undermined the democratic and holy image embodied within the overseas cemeteries’ memorial architecture. The government’s segregation of black GSM paralleled the military’s and NCS’ inequitable treatment of black servicemen, revealing the persistence of the nation’s institutionalized and systemic racism. Highlighting the shortcomings of the nation’s democratic ideals, William E. B. Du Bois (1868–1963) wrote in the Crisis, “Black hands buried the putrid bodies of white American soldiers in France. Black mothers cannot go with white mothers to look at their graves”.96 As Du Bois’ observation alludes, within the QMC and the GRS, black soldiers were assigned the arduous and emotionally taxing job of disinterring, transporting, and reinterring the dead.97 At home, black soldiers trained at segregated camps where they often encountered racism and violence from locals who sought to demonstrate their superiority. Overseas, they served in “colored” units, were refused support and service by military officials and American welfare agencies, were given grunt jobs despite their level of education or technical skills, and experienced violence.98 Racial discrimination was such a glaring contradiction to the nation’s mission “to make the world safe for democracy” that the German ambassador to the United States, Johann Heinrich von Bernstorff (1862–1939), set up a propaganda department in 1914 to appeal specifically to and turn the loyalty of disillusioned black soldiers.99 The U.S. government sought to conceal its own discriminatory practices through the construction of a unified and democratic funerary landscape abroad. The protests of black GSM demonstrate that the well-worn rhetoric and iconography of patriotic 95

See John W. Graham, The Gold Star Mother Pilgrimages of the 1930s: Overseas grave visitations by mothers and widows of fallen U.S. WWI soldiers (Jefferson, NC: McFarland, 2005). 96 W.E.B. Du Bois, “As the Crow Flies”, Crisis 37, no. 7, (July 1930), 221. 97 Piehler, Remembering War, 105. 98 See Addie W. Hunton and Kathryn M. Johnson, Two Colored Women With the American Expeditionary Forces (Brooklyn: Brooklyn-Eagle Press, 1920). Hunton and Johnson were African American YMCA aid workers stationed in France; Mark Ellis, Race, War, and Surveillance: African Americans and the United States Government (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2001); Adriane Lentz-Smith, Freedom Struggles: African Americans and World War I (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2009); Nina Mjagkij, Loyalty in Time of Trial: The African American Experience in World War I (Lanham, MD: Rowan & Littlefield Publishers, 2001); Peter Nelson, A More Unending Battle: The Harlem Hellfighters’ Struggle for Freedom in WWI and Equality at Home (New York: Basic Civitas, 2009); and Richard Slotkin, Lost Battalions: The Great War and the Crisis of American Nationality (New York: H. Holt, 2005). 99 See Emmett J. Scott, Scott’s Official History of the American Negro in the World War, 1919 (New York: Arno Press, 1969). Scott was the special assistant on race relations to the Secretary of War. His job was to facilitate the organization of segregated units, maintain healthy morale, and “promote friendly feelings between white and colored citizens” (62).

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sacrifice and democratic nationalism was not a consolation for the inequitable nature of American society. Ultimately, the ABMC’s memorialization efforts suggest that the government was primarily invested in providing a “good” international death as a means of constructing (but not fostering) a predominantly Christian and seemingly democratic embodiment of the nation. The NCS and Domestic Memorialization While the government focused its resources on the development of overseas cemeteries, the domestic NCS was left to assimilate the war dead and the aging veteran population into its eighty-two cemeteries. Following the military’s poll of NOK, the GRS returned some 46,520 decedents to the U.S. “If each body were delivered to the former home for interment”, the New York Times pondered, “there would be no memorial even in this country of heroic selfsacrifice, such as is found on the battlefield of Gettysburg”.100 The Times’ prediction essentially came to pass. At the request of NOK, the QMC interred less than six thousand WWI decedents in domestic national cemeteries.101 Of those, 5,241 were buried at Arlington National Cemetery. The institution’s inaccessibility became ever more apparent for concerned citizens when Congress extended interment eligibility to veterans of all wars, including the nearly five million WWI veterans. Although the War Department’s democratic interment choices aimed to facilitate mourning and ease NOK’s grief, they actually engendered a geographically dispersed and diffused memory of the Great War. Instead of calling for the immediate expansion of the nation’s funerary landscapes as a way to pay tribute to the war dead and veterans, the NCS extended its overseas aesthetic, iconography, and patriotic rhetoric to the memorialization of the WWI Unknown Soldier. At the encouragement of veterans groups and grieving NOK, as well as following the precedents set by France, England, and Italy, Congress approved a resolution, on March 4, 1921, for the interment

100 “Objection to Bringing Home Soldier Dead”. 101 The GRS interred approximately 40,000 war dead in private and public cemeteries throughout the U.S. The Army did not maintain any records of the war dead once their bodies were released to NOK. Consequently, there is no official record of the memorialization of these dead or where they were buried. In the decade between 1922 and 1932, only two post cemeteries, Sitka (Sitka, AK) in 1924 and Zachary Taylor (Louisville, KY) in 1928, were designated national cemeteries, but no new national cemeteries were established until 1933.

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of the WWI Unknown.102 The pomp and circumstance surrounding the Unknown’s interment aimed to present a pluralistic, unified, and equitable image of American culture. The ceremony for our “sacred son” took place in the newly dedicated Arlington Memorial Amphitheater on Armistice Day, 1921. The War Department carefully selected official mourners to represent a cross-section of American society.103 It did not matter, President Warren G. Harding eulogized at the ceremony, if the Unknown was a “native son or an adopted son” or if he was from a “mansion or cottage”. What mattered was that he, like all war dead, “fought and died believing in the indisputable justice of his country’s cause”.104 By avoiding references to the racial, ethnic, and religious diversity of the nation, orators at the commemoration neglected the lived experiences of the diverse mourners and the nation’s population at large. During the ceremony, Chief Plenty of Coups, leader of the Crow nation, acted as a representative of all the “Indians of the United States”.105 While Plenty of Coups’ presence conveyed that Native peoples were an integral part of the nation and its war effort, descriptions of his participation point to their marginalization. According to an anonymous witness, Plenty of Coups’ “stepped out from the crowd, a dramatic, almost pagan note of color above the assemblage. Slowly and with native dignity he laid his war bonnet and coup stick on the sarcophagus”.106 With this description, Chief Plenty of Coups, presence became a reminder of centuries of violent warfare between Native peoples and Anglos, the forced relocation and reservation policies of the nineteenth century, and the government’s 102 England’s Unknown is buried in Westminster Abbey. France’s Unknown is interred beneath the Arc de Triomphe. Italy’s Unknown is entombed at the Monument to Victor Emanuel II in Rome. 103 Veterans from the Civil War, Spanish American War, and WWI, members of the YMCA and the DAR, the Society of the Cincinnati, the Jewish Welfare Board, the Jewish Veterans of the World War, the Knights of Columbus, the National Catholic War Council, a committee of African American leaders, Gold Star Mothers, relatives of unidentified soldiers, political figures, and representatives from all branches of the military and every state of the nation were invited to publicly grieve. 104 Following his speech, Harding awarded the Unknown with the Congressional Medal of Honor and the Distinguished Service Cross, the highest honor a soldier could receive at the time. Through patriotic sacrifice, Harding’s rhetoric and commemoration indicated, the conscripted, regardless of identity, became equals. Harding quoted in Piehler, Remembering War, 120. See also “Millions to Pray for Peace Today”, New York Times, November 11, 1921, 2. 105 Plenty Coups, Plenty-Coups, Chief of Crows (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2002). See also “Plenty of Coups (1848–1932), Encyclopedia of the Great Plains (Lincoln: University of Nebraska, 2004). 106 Unknown Author, “Our Soldier Unknown”, 1937, U.S. Quartermaster Foundation, http:// www.qmfound.com/soldier_unknown.htm, last access November 10, 2015.

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most recent Americanization attempts with Indian boarding schools. Some 10,000 Native peoples served in the U.S. military and navy during WWI despite the fact that they were not recognized as U.S. citizens.107 For the nation’s many marginalized groups, their lived experiences, the discrimination and violence they faced on a daily basis, demonstrated that American democracy was a fallacy. Ultimately, the nation’s seemingly equitable memorialization efforts did not promise equality, but suggested the exclusionary and hypocritical nature of white, Christian nationalism. The committal ceremony’s democratic and nationalistic tone was neither enough to unify the tension-filled nation nor imbue the Tomb of the Unknown with, in the words of Benedict Anderson, “ghostly national imaginings”.108 The tomb lay unfinished, with no monument to mark its existence or convey its national significance, until the early 1930s. Harding’s 1921 eulogy set the tone for a pacifist interpretation of the site. “With all my heart”, he expressed, “I wish … that no such sacrifice shall be asked again … There must be, there shall be, the commanding voice of a conscious civilization against armed warfare”.109 Acting in line with Harding’s sentiment, peace activists imagined the Tomb and the Unknown as, in the words of historian Kurt Piehler, a “grim reminder of the terrible cost of war”.110 They held solemn wreath laying ceremonies and clergymen gave peace sermons at the grave, making it a site of mourning and reflection. Other visitors did not respect or even recognize the site’s supposed sanctity, refusing to remove their hats when they approached the shrine, putting cigarettes out on the surrounding plaza, and picnicking on the nearby lawns.111 Concerned citizens, led by the American Legion, eventually demanded that Congress mandate memorial and ceremonial changes that led to the sanctification of the site.112 Initially, Brigadier General Harry Hill Bandholtz refused these pleas on the grounds that “the distantly located tomb … is not and never will be visited by 107 In 1919 Congress granted citizenship to Native peoples who served in the armed forces during WWI. It was not until 1924 that all Native peoples received citizenship. Naval History & Heritage Command, “Native Americans and the U.S. Military”, http://www.history .navy.mil/faqs/faq61–1.htm, last access Dec. 10, 2015. See also Indian Citizenship Act of 1924, 43 Stat. 253, ante, 420, June 2, 1924. 108 Anderson, Imagined Communities, 9–10. 109 “President Harding’s Address at the Burial of an Unknown American Soldier”, New York Times, November 12, 1921, 2. 110 Piehler, Remembering War, 122. 111 Poole, On Hallowed Ground, 168. 112 According to Kenneth Foote’s Shadowed Ground: America’s Landscapes of Violence and Tragedy, “Sanctification occurs when events are seen to hold some lasting positive meaning that people wish to remember – a lesson in heroism or perhaps a sacrifice for community. A memorial or monument is the result”, 7–8.

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thousands”.113 The War Department’s reluctance to construct a national memorial for the Unknown further demonstrated that the government was primarily concerned with developing an international, national identity abroad and not providing a “good” death to foster domestic unity. Eventually, as the frequency of public complaints increased, the War Department gradually developed memorial plans for the tomb. To protect the grave from disrespectful visitors, the Army erected a picket fence around the grave and hired a civilian guard to keep watch. In 1926, veterans groups convinced the War Department to post armed soldiers at the tomb during the cemetery’s hours of operation. By the late 1920s, the Army put the guards on around the clock duty, a practice that has remained consistent since 1937.114 In 1926, Congress authorized the completion of the capstone memorial for the tomb to further mark the site as hallowed ground. American architects were invited by the CFA to submit design proposals.115 Carrying on the ABMC’s collaborative approach, a committee that consisted of representatives from the Arlington Cemetery Commission, the ABMC, and the CFA selected the neoclassical design of architect Lorimer Rich (1891–1978) and sculptor Thomas Hudson Jones (1892–1969). The memorial is a classical sarcophagus, reminiscent of the architecture of the ABMC cemeteries (see Fig. 7). The panel facing the Memorial Amphitheater reads, “Here Rests in Honored Glory an American Soldier Known But to God”. The front of the tomb, facing Washington, D.C. and the Potomac River, depicts three figures, “Victory”, “Valor”, and “Peace”, commemorating the spirit of the Allies. Together, the inscription and the three carved figures highlight the innocent martyrdom of the fallen in the name of what the Quartermaster Review referred to as “the cause of righteousness triumphant”.116 The Army’s permanent posting of guards and the construction of a memorial tomb created what Anderson calls “public ceremonial reverence” that added an aura of patriotism and sacredness to the site.117 Despite its initial hesitancy, the government’s willingness 113 Brigadier General H.H. Bandholtz to the Adjutant General, October 23, 1922; File 293.8; Box 565; Records of the War Department, RG 47; NACP. 114 Poole, On Hallowed Ground, 169. 115 “War Department Notes: Jury of Award Selects Five Designs for Competition of Tomb of Unknown Soldier”, July 11, 1928; Folder 293.6 Inscriptions 1923–1928; Box, 147, Decimal Subject File Concerning the Construction and Maintenance of Cemeteries and Monuments; Records of the American battle Monument Commission, RG 117; NACP. 116 “Tomb of the Unknown Soldier”, The Quartermaster Review, September–October, 1963, http://www.qmfound.com/tomb_of_the_unknown_soldier.htm (last access, October 15, 2014). 117 Anderson, Imagined Communities, 9–10.

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Tomb of the Unknown Soldier (photograph by author).

to respond to and act upon the public’s memorial wishes reveals that its investment in providing a “good” national death was, at least to a degree, concerned with serving domestic interests and facilitating national unity. Focusing its energy and resources on its overseas cemeteries and the Unknown’s memorialization, the government did not consider expanding the domestic NCS until the 1930s. Within the first three decades of the twentieth century, decreased mortality rates, increased immigration, and internal migration to centers of modern industry resulted in a steady population increase in the west, south, and northeast. More specifically, marked population increases occurred in California, Florida, Illinois, Michigan, New Jersey, New York, and Texas.118 Recognizing these demographic shifts, the War Department asked Congress for appropriations to establish four new cemeteries and to expand three extant fort cemeteries: Baltimore, Fort Bliss, Fort Rosecrans, Fort Sam 118 U.S. Census Bureau, Demographic Trends in the 20th century: Census 2000 Special Reports, by Frank Hobbs, and Nicole Stoops, Washington, D.C.: U.S. Government Printing Office, 2002.

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Huston, Fort Snelling, Golden Gate, and Long Island; The site of each cemetery was selected for its proximity to military installments and/or veteran population centers. Ultimately, the interwar domestic funerary landscapes mirrored the expansion of the nation’s industries and military industrial complex, as well as recognized the institution’s commitment to serve the veteran population in urban locations. These domestic transformations indicated that the NCS was not just a reactive institution that expanded in response to wars, but also a proactive institution that sought to serve a living constituency. As the NCS initiated its first major expansion since WWI and the ABMC continued development of overseas cemeteries, the Bonus Expeditionary Force’s (BEF) 1932 march on the National Mall revealed the government’s ambivalent interest in caring for the living and the dead. The BEF consisted of some twenty thousand veterans and their families who came to Washington, D.C., where the McMillan plan was in its final stages, to pressure Congress to disperse promised bonus payments. They squatted amid leveled minority neighborhoods and condemned federal buildings for weeks. Congress recessed without resolving the issue and President Herbert Hoover (1874–1964), through Secretary of War Patrick Hurley (1883–1963), issued orders for the eviction of the BEF. General Douglas MacArthur (1880–1964) dispatched two hundred cavalry troops with sabers drawn, five tanks with mounted machine guns, and four hundred infantrymen to march on the BEF’s encampment. With the assistance of tear gas and violent force, the troops pushed out the veterans, leaving two men dead in their wake. William Hushka (1895–1932) and Eric Carlson (1894–1932), who died of gunshot wounds, were laid to rest at Arlington National Cemetery.119 At the Tomb of the Unknown’s November dedication, members of D.C.’s Legion’s Victory purposefully disrupted Hurley’s commemoration as an act of protest against the government’s inaction on bonus payments and the deaths of Hushka and Carlson.120 For these men, visiting the Tomb was, most likely, an ambivalent and, possibly, ironic experience. While the Tomb was the only domestic national memorial to their service and the sacrifices of their fellow soldiers, it also stood as a reminder that the government was willing to pay thousands, if not millions, of dollars to build monuments to the war dead, but refused to take care of the living. Despite the NCS’ expansion and its memorialization of the Unknown, the case of the BEF illustrates that the government could not fully contain the 119 See Poole, Hallowed Ground, 160–175. 120 James Cullinane, “Reverent Vets Walk Out as Hurley Speaks”, The Washington Post, November 12, 1932.

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memory of the war, nor could it effortlessly project a democratic national identity as long as injustices persisted at home. Moreover, it suggests that the government was ambivalent about its obligation to care for the nation’s living veterans. While the eight American cemeteries abroad were supposed to, according to Hayes, “serve as a symbol of a Nation’s gratitude to its departed sons and a demonstration to all peoples for all time of America’s response to a great threat”, they left the repatriated war dead and veterans without an accessible NCS and minimal national recognition.121 Ultimately, the government’s privileging of overseas cemeteries engendered a hierarchy of national funerary landscapes and, thus, communicated that it was more concerned with, in the words of Secretary of War Baker, “mark[ing] the advance line of freedom … in the farthest advance yet of the American ideal” than fostering a democratic nation.122 Conclusion The interwar NCS was the product of an internal and international negotiation process that appropriated domestic and foreign funerary traditions as a way to revise collective identity, unify the divided nation, and announce to the world the powerful, democratic, and self-sacrificing nature of American culture. The NCS borrowed from and adapted classical aesthetics, appropriated contemporary memorialization practices, and sought, to a degree, the approval of its citizens and Allied host nations as a means to create continuity with the past and project a democratic model of the nation that was transnationally legible. The War Department and the ABMC consciously developed the overseas military cemeteries as ideological rallying points to promote international solidarity and American might without having to resort to blatant coercive political or military interventions. While the nation’s overseas burial practices, memorial architecture, and iconography embodied a democratic and egalitarian vision of America, the NCS’ limited domestic expansion, discriminatory memorialization practices, the persistence of prewar social tensions, and xenophobic government policies indicated that the nation did not live up to the ideals embodied in its funerary architecture. Nonetheless, the NCS’ interwar expansion, development, and memorialization did lead to the gradual development of a more democratic brand of memorialization that gave citizens a voice, albeit one that the government did not necessarily heed, and paved the way for the 121 Hayes, “A Report to the Secretary of War on American Military Dead Overseas”. 122 Secretary of War Newton D. Baker quoted in Budreau, Bodies of War, 101.

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eventual integration of the institution. Ultimately, the interwar NCS’ democratic nature was primarily an illusion that aimed to camouflage the destructive power of war, redefine patriotic sacrifice, and unite a disparate people.

Works Cited



Unpublished Archival Materials

National Archives and Records Administration, College Park, Maryland (NACP) Records of the Office of the Quartermaster General, Record Group 92 Records of the American Battle Monuments Commission, Record Group 117 Records of the Department of Veterans Affairs, Record Group 15 National Archives and Records Administration, Washington, D.C. (NAB) Records of the Office of the Quartermaster General, Record Group 92 National Archives, Kew, Richmond, Surrey, UK (TNA) Ministère des Affaires Étrangères (MAE), Archives Diplomatique (Paris)

Periodicals

New York Times Quartermaster Review

Websites

American Battle Monuments Commission, https://www.abmc.gov National Cemetery Administration, http://www.cem.va.gov US Army Quartermaster Foundation, http://www.qmfound.com/short.htm



Published Works

“American Jewish Committee – Office of War Records”. The American Jewish Historical Society, http://data.jewishgen.org/wconnect/wc.dll?jg~jgsys~ajhs_pb~r!!205. Last access Nov. 15, 2014. Anderson. Benedict. Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism. London, New York: Verso, 1983. Bodnar, John. Remaking America. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1992. “Brent Wants Dead to Stay in France”. New York Times. Jan. 16, 1920. Brooks, Van Wyck. America’s Coming of Age. Charleston: Nabu Press, 2010. Budreau, Lisa M. Bodies of War: World War I and the Politics of Commemoration in American, 1919–1933. New York: New York University Press, 2010. “Condole with Roosevelt”. New York Times. Oct. 2, 1918. Corn, Wanda. The Great American Thing: Modern Art and National Identity, 1915–1935. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1999.

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Cullinane, James. “Reverent Vets Walk Out as Hurley Speaks”. The Washington Post. Nov. 12, 1932. Du Bois, W.E.B. “As the Crow Flies”. Crisis 37. No. 7. July 1930. Ellis, Mark. Race, War, and Surveillance: African Americans and the United States Government. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2001. “First World War”. Commonwealth Graves Commission, http://www.cwgc.org/about-us/ historyofcwgc/first-world-war.aspx. Last access Nov. 15, 2014. Foote, Kenneth. Shadowed Ground: America’s Landscapes of Violence and Tragedy. Austin: University of Texas Press, 2003. “French Honor ‘Heroic Death: Quentin Roosevelt’s War Record an Inspiration, Says the Temps”. New York Times. July 19, 1918. “French join Americans in celebrating Fourth”. The New York Herald, Paris. July 5, 1926. General Order (G.O.) No. 104. Aug. 7, 1917. G.O. No. 27. Aug. 29, 1917. Goldstein, Eric L. The Price of Whiteness, Jews, Race, and American Identity. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2006. Graham, John W. The Gold Star Mother Pilgrimages of the 1930s: Overseas Grave Visitations by Mothers and Widows of Fallen U.S. WWI Soldiers. Jefferson, NC: McFarland, 2005. Hall, James Dictionary of Subjects and Symbolism in Art. New York: Harper & Row, 1979. Hayes, Ralph. A Report to the Secretary of War on American Military Dead Overseas. Washington, D.C.: Government Printing Office, 1920. Hedges, Chris. War is a Force that Gives us Meaning. New York: Public Affairs, 2002. Hunton, Addie W. and Kathryn M. Johnson. Two Colored Women With the American Expeditionary Forces. Brooklyn: Brooklyn-Eagle Press, 1920. Indian Citizenship Act of 1924. 43 Stat. 253. Ante, 420. June 2, 1924. Kammen, Michael. Digging Up the Dead. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2011. Kammen, Michael. Mystic Chords of Memory. New York: Vintage Books, 1993. Kohler, Sue. The Commission of Fine Arts. Washington, D.C.: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1914. Langmead, Donald. Icons of American Architecture: From the Alamo to the World Trade Center. Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 2009. Lentz-Smith, Adriane. Freedom Struggles: African Americans and World War I. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2009. Longworth, Philip. Unending Vigil: The History of the Commonwealth War Graves Commission. London: Constable Press, 1967. MacCloskey, Monro. Hallowed Ground: Our National Cemeteries. New York: Richard Rosen Press, 1968. “Memorial Day in France”. New York Times. June 1, 1920.

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“Millions to Pray for Peace Today”. New York Times. Nov. 11, 1921. Mjagkij, Nina. Loyalty in Time of Trial: The African American Experience in World War I. Lanham, MD: Rowan & Littlefield Publishers, 2001. Naval History & Heritage Command. “Native Americans and the U.S. Military”. http:// www.history.navy.mil/faqs/faq61–1.htm. Last access Dec. 10, 2015. Nelson, Peter. A More Unending Battle: The Harlem Hellfighters’ Struggle for Freedom in WWI and Equality at Home. New York: Basic Civitas, 2009. “Objection to Bringing Home Soldier Dead”, New York Times. Jan. 18, 1920. “Plenty of Coups (1848–1932)”. Encyclopedia of the Great Plains. Lincoln: University of Nebraska, 2004. Pershing, John J. “Our National War Memorials in Europe”. National Geographic. Jan. 1934. Piehler, Kurt G. Remembering War the American Way. Washington, D.C.: Smithsonian Institution Press, 1995. Poole, Robert M. On Hallowed Ground: The Story of Arlington National Cemetery. New York: Walker Publishing, 2009. “President Harding’s Address at the Burial of an Unknown American Soldier”. New York Times. Nov. 12, 1921. Robin, Ron. Enclaves of America (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1992. “Roosevelt Objects to Removal of Son”. The New York Times. Nov. 18, 1918. Savage, Kirk. Monument Wars. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2009. Savage, Kirk. Standing Soldiers, Kneeling Slaves. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1997. Scott, Emmett J. Scott’s Official History of the American Negro in the World War, 1919. New York: Arno Press, 1969. Slotkin, Richard. Lost Battalions: The Great War and the Crisis of American Nationality. New York: H. Holt, 2005. Steven E. Anders, “With All Due Honors: A History of the Quartermaster Graves Registration Mission”. Quartermaster Processional Bulletin. September 1988. Summers, Julie. Remembered: The History of the Commonwealth War Graves Commission. Princeton, NC: Merrill Publishing, 2007. “Treaty of Peace between Allied and Associated Powers and Germany and Protocol”. Part VI. Prisoners of War and Graves, Section 11 Graves, Article 225. June 28, 1919. http://www.loc.gov/law/help/ustreaties/bevans/m-ust000002–0043.pdf. Last access Nov. 15, 2015. Trout, Steven. On The Battlefield of Memory: The First World War and American Remembrance, 1919–1941. Tuscaloosa: University of Alabama Press, 2010. U.S. Census Bureau. Demographic Trends in the 20th century: Census 2000 Special Reports. By Frank Hobbs, and Nicole Stoops. Washington, D.C.: U.S. Government Printing Office, 2002.

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U.S. Cong. House. HJ Res. 263. “Cemeteries for American military dead in Europe”. 67th Congress. 2nd Session. April 1, 1922a. U.S. Cong. House. House Resolution (H.R.) 10801. “For the Creation of an American Battle Monuments Commission”. 67th Congress, 2nd Session. Dec., 1922b. U.S. Cong. House. “House of Representatives Committee on Foreign Affairs”. Jan. 13, 1920. Washington, D.C.: Government Printing Office, 1920. U.S. Cong. Public Resolution No. 44. 67th Congress, 2nd Session. April 1, 1922. U.S. Cong. “Return of the Military Dead Buried in France: Hearings before the Committee on Foreign Affairs, House of Representatives”. 66th Congress, 1st Session. Nov. 13, 1919. White, Theo B. Ed. Paul Philippe Cret: Architect and Teacher. Cranbury, NJ: Associated University Presses, Inc., 1973. Wilson, Woodrow. “At War with Germany: Address to Congress”. April 2, 1917. In Arthur Roy Leonard, ed. War Addresses of Woodrow Wilson. Boston, Athenaeum Press, 1918.

100 Percent Americanism in the Concert Hall: The Minneapolis Symphony in the Great War Michael J. Pfeifer In 1918 a Minnesota music critic assessed a Minneapolis Symphony concert warmly, noting that the orchestra’s recent “racial house-cleansing” – a purge of some of the orchestra’s German and Austrian-born musicians – had not compromised the quality of the ensemble’s playing. While the critic believed that “like gasoline and whiskey, music and war really ought not to have anything in particular to do with each other”, he nonetheless judged it well worthwhile from a “standpoint of musical interest” to hear the orchestra “magnificently” perform the national anthems of the Allied nations that opened the concert. Earlier, at the beginning of the 1918–1919 season, members of the Minneapolis Symphony had been required to sign loyalty oaths to the United States, while a cellist had been compelled to leave the orchestra for a period because he supposedly had hung portraits of the Kaiser and his wife over his fireplace (these were actually pictures of “the deceased Austrian emperor Franz Josef and his wife”).1 While the Minneapolis Symphony and its Munich-born founder Emil Oberhoffer (1867–1933) did not encounter the extreme repercussions that led to the arrest, internment, and deportation of Karl Muck (1859–1940) and Ernst Kunwald (1868–1939), respectively the German and Austrian conductors of the Boston Symphony and the Cincinnati Symphony,2 a significant nativist, antiGerman, backlash did mark the orchestra’s experience of the latter years of the Great War. The upper Midwestern state of Minnesota was substantially German in nativity and ancestry at the outbreak of the war, which may have mitigated some of the harshly jingoistic reaction that German ­symphonic * I am grateful to Frank Jacob and William H. Thomas for their comments on a draft of this chapter. 1 Clipping with Minneapolis Symphony concert program, November 21, 1918, in Minnesota Orchestra Archives, Manuscript Division, University of Minnesota-Minneapolis; the St. Paul critic may have been referring to the suspension of cellist Emil Schultz, discussed below. Edmund A. Bowles, “Karl Muck and His Compatriots: German Conductors in America during World War I (and How They Coped)”, American Music 25, no. 4 (2007): 408, 431fn18. 2 Bowles, “Karl Muck and His Compatriots”; Barbara L. Tischler, “One Hundred Percent Americanism and Music in Boston during World War I”, American Music 4, no. 2 (1986): 164–176.

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­ usicians encountered elsewhere in the United States.3 But many of the m same tendencies emerged in milder fashion in Minnesota with demands for changes in orchestral repertoire to include “The Star-Spangled Banner” and the deletion of works by German composers, and rampant suspicions regarding the loyalties of German and Austrian musicians. As with many American orchestras, the Minneapolis Symphony from its founding under Oberhoffer in 1903 had embodied the German cultural dominance of symphonic music in the early twentieth century United States,4 employing many musicians that had been born or trained in German lands and often performing the works of German composers such as Beethoven and Wagner. This chapter will use a number of primary sources such as reminiscences of musicians and orchestra board members, concert programs, and newspaper sources, to analyze the anti-­German fervor that swept the Minneapolis Symphony and symphonic music more generally in the United States during the Great War.5 The history of orchestral music performance in Minneapolis, a flour milling metropolis on the upper Mississippi River commanding an extensive ­agricultural and extractive (iron mining & timber) hinterland,6 drew substantially on the contributions of musicians who had been born in German lands. Hamburg-born Ludwig Harmsen arrived in 1868 and organized the Orchestral Union in the 1870s, pairing Schubert and Schumann with lighter fare, even as some critiqued “Professor” Harmsen’s ostentatious conducting style.7 Franz Danz, a violist and cornetist from Darmstadt via New York City arrived in the 3 For the anti-German backlash in Minnesota during World War I see, for example, Art Lee, “Hometown Hysteria: Bemidji at the Start of World War I”, Minnesota History 49, no. 2 (1984); 65–75; Steven J. Gross, “‘Perils of Prussianism’: Main Street German America, Local Autonomy, and the Great War”, Agricultural History 78, no. 1 (2004): 78–116; La Vern J. Rippley, “Conflict in the Classroom: Anti-Germanism in Minnesota Schools, 1917–19”, Minnesota History 47, no. 5 (1981): 170–183; William E. Matsen, “Professor William S. Schaper, War Hysteria, and the Price of Academic Freedom”, Minnesota History 51, no. 4 (Winter 1988), 130–137. The classic work on the German-American experience in World War I is Frederick C. Luebke, Bonds of Loyalty: German Americans and World War I (Dekalb, IL: Northern Illinois University, 1974). 4 Jessica C. E. Gienow-Hecht, “Trumpeting Down the Walls of Jericho: The Politics of Art, Music, and Emotion in German-American Relations, 1870–1920”, Journal of Social History 36, no. 3 (2003): 585–613. 5 For a recent assessment of the state of the field of Great War/World War scholarship with an emphasis on the American experience in transnational perspective, see Chris Capozzola, et al., “Interchange: World War I”, Journal of American History 102, no. 2 (2015): 463–499. 6 For an economic and social profile of early twentieth century Minneapolis, see Elizabeth Faue, Community of Suffering and Struggle: Women, Men, and the Labor Movement in Minneapolis, 1915–1945 (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1991), 23. 7 John K. Sherman, Music and Maestros: the History of the Minneapolis Symphony Orchestra (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1952), 11–14.

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late 1870s, began organizing band and orchestra concerts, and within a few years lured his son Franz, Jr., who had been serving as concertmaster in the Theodore Thomas Orchestra in New York, to Minneapolis. Franz Danz, Jr. took over conducting duties for the Danz Orchestra and initiated a long-running series of orchestral concerts in 1884, juxtaposing serious music by composers such as Wagner with light classics, initially in Turner Hall, a beer hall popular with German Americans. In 1886 the Danz Orchestra moved its concerts to Harmonia Hall, where alcohol and smoking were forbidden and Danz in the new venue effectively maneuvered around Sabbatarian sensibilities by styling his Sunday afternoon performances as “sacred concerts”, thus broadening the orchestra’s appeal from German immigrants to Yankee Protestant Minneapolis and its mercantile elite.8 German musicians played a pivotal role again after the turn of the century as Minneapolis’s symphonic life deepened with the founding of the Minneapolis Symphony Orchestra in 1903. The orchestra’s first concert on November 3 opened with the Prelude to Act I of Wagner’s opera, Die Meistersinger; musicians included personnel from the Danz Orchestra, conducted by Emil ­Oberhoffer. Oberhoffer, born into a musical family in Munich, had studied with the organist and composer Josef Rheinberger (1839–1901) before leaving in 1885 for New York City, where he served as a church organist and associated with Anton Seidl (1850–1898), a Leipzig-trained assistant to Richard Wagner (1813–1883) who led crucial performances of Wagner’s operas in New York in the mid-1880s that helped to popularize the music of the quintessential mid to late 19th century German composer in the United States.9 Venturing west to Minnesota as a musician in the orchestra of a Gilbert and Sullivan troupe, Oberhoffer took a job with Danz’s orchestra and then as an organist at churches around the Twin Cities. By the late 1890s, Oberhoffer competed with a soprano from the Rhineland, Anna E. Schoen-René (1864–1942), as transplanted German cultural entrepreneurs seeking to raise the musical culture of the Twin Cities to elevated German standards. Schoen-René, who would later lead the voice department at the Julliard School in New York, led an abortive effort to create a Northwestern Symphony Orchestra to serve the Twin Cities and the region. Oberhoffer for his part led increasingly ambitious efforts to put on oratories and operas with the Danz Orchestra, culminating with performances of Saint-Saens’ ­opera, Samson and Delilah, which Oberhoffer conducted in late

8 Sherman, Music and Maestros, 16–28. 9 Joseph Horowitz, Wagner Nights: An American History (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1994), 81–104; Sherman, Music and Maestros, 38–39.

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1902.10 Embarking on the founding of a full-fledged symphony orchestra in 1903, the Bavarian Oberhoffer enlisted the financial backing of “fifty-four guarantors, representing much of Minneapolis industry and wealth”, including a young lumberman, Elbert L. Carpenter (1862–1945), who would become the orchestra’s long-time financial manager.11 Traveling to Europe in the months before the Minneapolis Symphony embarked on its inaugural season, Oberhoffer filled out the orchestra’s ranks by hiring European musicians and purchased scores for the orchestra’s library, including several works by Richard Strauss (1864–1949), the leading German composer of the era.12 Over the next fourteen years the Minneapolis Symphony developed a regional and national reputation as Oberhoffer hired additional European and European-trained musicians, the quality of the orchestra’s playing improved markedly, and the orchestra toured extensively in the United States and Canada, particularly in the Midwestern plains states and prairie provinces, but also around the West and in the Northeast, including concerts in New York and Boston, the leading American cities for classical music. John K. Sherman, a mid-twentieth century Twin Cities newspaper music critic and historian of the Minneapolis Symphony, notes that Oberhoffer grew into the persona of ­Minneapolis maestro, taking on the role of “a kind of civic symbol of musical ­culture” that embodied a German “high seriousness and spirit of consecration”.13 Yet Sherman notes that Oberhoffer had studied not only in Munich but also in Luxembourg and Paris and he was hardly a German chauvinist in his programming, even as German and Austrian composers were well-represented in the orchestra’s programs. With time, through “dexterous spoon-feeding” and adventurous programming that included serious evening and mixed programs that included lighter fare on Sunday afternoons, Oberhoffer built up sizable audiences in Minneapolis and St. Paul for not only Beethoven and Brahms but also for Tchaikovsky, Dvořák, Franck, and, eventually, Sibelius. Sherman writes that Richard Strauss visited the Twin Cities twice during the Oberhoffer years, on one visit “expounding on the absurdity” of both Minneapolis and St. Paul trying to maintain their own separate symphony orchestras (St. Paul’s orchestra, conducted by Gustav Mahler’s student Walter Henry Rothwell, lasted only eight years, until funding dried up amid the start of the war in 1914). The Minneapolis Symphony gave the American premiere of Strauss’s Festival Prelude in October 1913.14 As the Minneapolis orchestra rose in stature in the 1910s, 10 11 12 13 14

Ibid., 39–48. Ibid., 49–52; quotation from p. 52. Ibid., 52–53; quotation from p. 53. Ibid., 71–73; quotations from p. 71 and 73. Ibid., 131–132; The Bellman 15 (1913), 506.

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its members shared a common German cultural background; while thirteen ­nationalities were represented among the personnel, most of the musicians were either from German-speaking lands or had been German-trained.15 Oberhoffer and his Minneapolis Symphony musicians were typical among symphonic musicians in the United States in the early twentieth century in their German identity. Since the mid nineteenth century, symphonic music and orchestral performance in the United States had developed in a distinctly Germanic mode as Prussia, Great Britain, and France laid competing claims for cultural supremacy among inferiority-complex-laden American elites convinced, along with many European intellectuals, that the United States lacked a meaningful high culture. As historian Jessica Gienow-Hecht convincingly demonstrates, musicians from German speaking Europe, who had inculcated the emergent 19th century notion of the German Empire as a “kulturnation” (that is, a nation based upon a cultural canon) successfully established the dominance of German composers in the classical canon even as a “­symphony craze” took root among urban U.S. business elites who funded the establishment of symphony orchestras in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. German musicians such as Oberhoffer, aided by the advent of the oceangoing steamer and the comparatively rapid transatlantic voyages it afforded, had significant advantages over American musicians. German musicians could claim, in the Romantic tradition, to be authentic interpreters of the German composers (Beethoven, Schubert, Brahms, Wagner) who were now seen as central to the classical canon. While according to Victorian notions, American male musicians risked being perceived as inappropriately effeminate, German male musicians, who were often idolized in the American press, were seen by contrast as “emotionally gifted”. Gender played a role as well in the reception of symphonic music not only among urban elites but among a wider American audience that took to symphonic music in the years before and after the turn of the century. While business class men sometimes complained of being dragged to boring symphony concerts by their wives who were seeking to culturally elevate them, many American men could identify with the “power of the orchestra” and “the sex of the performers” (male), while for their part American women thrilled to “the emotional impact of music”.16 15 Sherman, Music and Maestros, 74–75, 100; quotation from p. 74. 16 Philip Hart, Orpheus in the New World (New York: W.W. Norton, 1973), 59; Gienow-Hecht, “Trumpeting Down the Walls of Jericho”, 586–592; quotations from p. 592. For scholarly debate over how diverse and democratic the audience for symphony music actually was in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, see Joseph Horowitz, “Music and the Gilded Age: Social Control and Sacralization Revisited”, The Journal of the Gilded Age and The Progressive Era 3, no 3 (2004): 227–245. Horowitz, Wagner Nights, 231, contends that the key institutions of American classical music in the Gilded Age were not

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By the fin de siècle period, German music and musicians dominated the symphony hall. Between 1890 and 1915, more than 60% of the works performed by major American orchestras were the compositions of German and Austrian composers, while by contrast Russian and French composers contributed merely twelve percent each to the repertoire of American orchestras, and native-born American composers only four percent.17 Conductors from Germanspeaking lands, including Emil Oberhoffer, led all major American orchestras during this period, and musicians with a German pedigree filled the ranks of their ensembles, even as the American Federation of Musicians sought to unionize orchestras and to establish strict residency requirements for union membership. For example Karl Muck, the Darmstadt-born conductor of the Boston Symphony who had served as music director of the Berlin State Opera, hired many Germans to play under his baton in Boston; by 1917, five years into Muck’s second stint as music director in Boston, the BSO included 22 Germans, eight Austrians, two Italians, and two French musicians.18 In sum, as Gienow-Hecht persuasively argues, German music and musicians achieved a “monopoly on the public display of ‘emotion’” in fin de siècle America as German serious music came to be perceived as a refuge from capitalism and modernization and indeed as a language of emotion for many Americans.19 Yet the German domination of the symphony hall had also long provoked concern of a nationalistic Prussian strategy of cultural imperialism that betrayed the universalistic ideals of high art, weakened home-grown American art, and risked compromising American ideals of democracy and patriotism. Long-standing tensions in the American reception of German serious music and musicians would take fruit in the anti-German backlash after the American entry into World War I in April 1917.20 “­fundamentally patronizing and anti-democratic”. Horowitz, p. 243, holds that composers and performers, “not monied elites” were the primary drivers of sacralization, which “essentially documents aesthetic, not sociological change”. By contrast Alan Trachtenberg and Lawrence Levine writing in the 1980s held that Gilded Age high culture, including the opera house and the concert hall, involved elites imposing feminized social control on the masses and thus, in Levine’s signal interpretation, establishing a powerful dichotomy of sacralized high culture versus vulgar low culture that would exclude the working classes from institutions of high art. Alan Trachtenberg, The Incorporation of America: Culture and Society in the Gilded Age (New York: Hill and Wang, 1982), 140–181; Lawrence Levine, Highbrow/Lowbrow: The Emergence of Cultural Hierarchy in America (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1988). 17 Hart, Orpheus in the New World, 59, 404–426. 18 Gienow-Hecht, “Trumpeting Down the Walls of Jericho”, 592–593, 599, and 602–603. 19 Ibid, quotation from p. 600. 20 Ibid., 600–604.

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In some respects, Minnesota provided fertile ground for cultural and ideological tensions in World War I, even as the North Star State’s large northern European immigrant and German-born and German-descended population may have mitigated the excesses that occurred in some other U.S. regions. In the 1910 census, the state’s most populous city, Minneapolis, numbered 301,408, and its twin city St. Paul 214,744, while 25% of the state’s total population was foreign-born, with the largest group born in Scandinavian countries but 27% of the foreign-born claiming German nativity.21 Persons of German descent particularly predominated in counties north of the Twin Cities where German-speaking Catholics formed homogeneous communities that controlled local polities and came under suspicion after the U.S. entry into the war, but German Americans were also dispersed widely in the state, including its urban areas. Minnesota led the nation with the creation of the Minnesota Commission of Public Safety in April 1917, a quasi-legal arm of state government modeled on the National Council of Defense that sought in parallel with the Wilson Administration’s Committee on Public Information and Justice Department to counter disloyalty and subversion in concert with county-level branches that sometimes engaged in vigilantism against persons suspected of disloyalty to the war effort. Historian Steven J. Gross notes that Minneapolis business interests controlled the Commission of Public Safety, which they deployed as a weapon demanding “100 percent Americanism” amid deep-seated, ethnicity-inflected labor conflict in the state’s northern Iron Range, “the reality of a socialist serving as the mayor of Minneapolis”, and the advent of a farmer’s movement, the Nonpartisan League, that had taken control of state government in neighboring North Dakota. The left-leaning Nonpartisan League, which mounted an ultimately unsuccessful effort to take c­ ontrol of Minnesota’s Republican Party, opposed Minneapolis milling interests, advocated cooperative arrangements, and criticized weapon makers and U.S. involvement in the war.22 The Commission of Public Safety, consisting of the governor, the state attorney general, and five gubernatorial appointees, had a very wide remit, ­issuing 59 orders, publishing its own newspaper, mailing out German and 21 22

Lee, “Hometown Hysteria”, 66. Rippley, “Conflict in the Classroom”, 171; Gross, “’Perils of Prussianism,’” 90–96, quotation from p. 90. For the larger context of federal efforts to suppress dissent, see William H. Thomas, Unsafe for Democracy: World War I and the U.S. Justice Department’s Covert Campaign to Suppress Dissent (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 2008). For a recent treatment of the Nonpartisan League, see Chris Lansing, Insurgent Democracy: The Nonpartisan League in North American Politics (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 2015).

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English-­language literature promoting American involvement in the war, and fielding inquiries and complaints of suspected disloyalty from around the state. Worried about pro-German sentiment in Minnesota as military mobilization was under way, the commission created its own Home Guard consisting of abled-bodied men between the ages of 31 and 52 as a means to counter home-grown disloyalty and subversion. As complaints flowed in from around the state regarding German language schools, the commission banned some German textbooks and passed a resolution requesting that schools only use English in instruction, but it did not prohibit the use of German, as occurred in Iowa, South Dakota, and Missouri.23 In September 1917, under pressure from the commission, the University of Minnesota dismissed Professor William Schaper, the chair of its Political Science Department. Born in La Crosse, Wisconsin, to German-born parents, Schaper before the American entry into the war had expressed support for Germany and had opposed American involvement, but had publicly supported the U.S. war effort after the American entry in April 1917.24 Emil Oberhoffer and the Minneapolis Symphony, steeped in the German culture of orchestral music-making, were compelled to adapt after April 1917 to a cultural climate in which German nativity and identity were suspect and scrutinized for possible disloyalty to the Allied war cause. Although Germanborn, Oberhoffer had long been a U.S. citizen (since 1893), unlike several German conductors of American orchestras who came under suspicion, most notably Karl Muck and Ernst Kunwald, conductors of the Boston Symphony and Cincinnati Symphony, but also Frederick Stock, the music director of the Chicago Symphony who was compelled to step down for a period to take care of his citizenship paperwork. Alfred Hertz, conductor of the San Francisco Symphony and similarly subject to accusations of loyalty to Germany, had good timing in becoming a U.S. citizen in March 1917.25 Oberhoffer strongly professed his American patriotism and his “abhorrence of Prussianism” and by the 1917–18 season had adopted the practice of beginning every concert with America and concluding every program with The Star-Spangled Banner (which would not become the official U.S. national anthem until 1931), while also displaying in performance the orchestra’s service flag of five stars (one of them gold). 26 While the Minneapolis Tribune music critic Caryl Storrs slyly noted that some questioned whether the “national hymn” belonged with “Mozart 23

Rippley, “Conflict in the Classroom”, 171–180. Also on the Minnesota Committee of Public Safety, see Carl H. Chrislock, Watchdog of Loyalty: The Minnesota Committee of Public Safety during World War I (St. Paul: Minnesota Historical Society Press, 1991). 24 Matsen, “Professor William S. Schaper”, 131–132. 25 Bowles, “Karl Muck and His Compatriots”, esp. 410–411. 26 Sherman, Music and Maestros, 113, 138; “Music”, Minneapolis Tribune, October 20, 1917, 22.

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and Brahms”, the orchestra (with the exception, for practical reasons, of the tuba player and the harpist) rose to their feet to play it, and Oberhoffer enthusiastically conducted; the patriotic anthems that began and ended the wartime concerts invariably received the most fervent applause of all the works performed, with Civil War veterans sometimes throwing their hats into the air at the end of The Star-Spangled Banner as the orchestra concluded its programs while on tour.27 Programming and stage protocol also shifted after the American entry into the war. After April 1917, Oberhoffer embarked on a well-publicized effort to program works by American composers, patriotic numbers beyond the national anthems were often interpolated with serious concert works on programs, and the works of German composers were programmed less often. In March 1918 the orchestra dropped an all-Wagner program after “numerous protests” and replaced it with a mixed nationality concert of works by Ambroise Thomas, Karl Goldmark, Felix Borowski, and Carl Maria von Weber; French, Hungarian, British-American, and German composers, respectively.28 The absence of several Minneapolis Symphony musicians from the orchestra to serve in the military was highlighted by the press, and patriotic tableaux sometimes took center stage in concert (for example, on tour in Evanston, Illinois, a tenor sang the Marseillaise flanked by sailors and soldiers bearing French and American flags).The orchestra also presented concerts for military audiences, including one at Camp Grant near Rockford, Illinois, in May 1918, as well a program consisting largely of patriotic songs for an audience of soldiers and sailors in Minneapolis shortly before the Armistice in November 1918, even as quarantine for the influenza epidemic precluded the orchestra from presenting public concerts for six weeks.29 Several concerts around and shortly after the Armistice prominently included the Triumphal March from Verdi’s Aida, appropriately 27 Sherman, Music and Maestros, 140 (includes quotation); “Symphony Players Complete Circuit of Eight States”, Minneapolis Tribune, June 4, 1917, 7. Boston Symphony conductor Karl Muck’s troubles, which culminated in a federal investigation, prosecution, internment, and deportation (after the war) began with the false accusation that he had refused to conduct The Star-Spangled Banner at a concert in Providence, Rhode Island in October 1917. The Boston Symphony’s management had in fact, without consulting Muck, declined a request to play the anthem, deeming it music more appropriate for a “military band” and beneath the dignity of “a classical music organization”. Bowles, “Karl Muck and His Compatriots”, 412–414, quotation, on 413–414. 28 “Two National Anthems on First Popular Orchestral Program”, Minneapolis Tribune, ­October 21, 1917, 10; “Symphony Orchestra Season Closes with Easter Concert”, Minneapolis Tribune, March 31, 1918, 7. 29 “Serving with Machine Gun Battalion”, Minneapolis Tribune, April 28, 1918, 12; “Patriotism Feature Thrills Chicago Crowd at Symphony Concert”, Minneapolis Tribune, May 29, 1918, 4; “Music; Auditorium”, Minneapolis Tribune, November 11, 1918, 6.

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so, a Minneapolis music critic noted, as this was music “accompanying the return of troops victorious over a savage enemy”.30 News of the Armistice itself reportedly reached the orchestra while in rehearsal, prompting the “elated Oberhoffer” to lead the musicians to their feet for a rendition of The Star-Spangled Banner before dismissing them for the day.31 The Minneapolis musicians’ numerous displays of patriotism during the war took shape in a context where suspicion and coercion often undergirded insistence on loyalty and 100 % Americanism. The orchestra’s tour manager, Wendell Heighton, seeking to preempt doubts of potential audiences on the road, insisted that there “are no slackers in our orchestra – every man is an American citizen and we speak only the English language”. Oberhoffer reportedly prohibited his musicians from speaking German in public or even backstage.32 All of the orchestral personnel were required to sign loyalty pledges at the beginning of 1918–19 season and the musicians collectively purchased $20,000 in bonds for the fourth Liberty Loan.33 Cellist Emil Schultz investigated and cleared by the Department of Justice after pictures of what were actually deceased members of the Austrian royal family (less offensive apparently than the living Kaiser and his family) were reported to be on the walls of his home, purchased several Liberty Loan bonds and was allowed to rejoin the orchestra.34 The Minneapolis Symphony’s patriotic displays persuaded many, including the editor of the Decatur Herald (Illinois), who contrasted Oberhoffer and the Minneapolis orchestra favorably with Karl Muck and the Boston Symphony: “The leader of one great orchestra has been jailed for sedition, and the Minneapolis Symphony orchestra is recognized as a great patriotic force. What a contrast!”35 Even as some cast suspicion on orchestral musicians and symphonic music as suspect in loyalty and patriotism due to their German associations, others defended the Minneapolis Symphony as a salutary and elevating cultural influence on all who heard its music-making and fundamentally consistent with the best of American values. In a patriotic juxtaposition of the arguments of German-born and trained music-makers who had for years sought to bring cultural refinement to what they regarded as musically unsophisticated American audiences, the Minneapolis Tribune in September 1918 argued that the city’s orchestra “makes potently for the finer things of life” and that the 30 “Finley Campbell, Baritone”, Minneapolis Tribune, November 24, 1918, 7. 31 Sherman, Music and Maestros, 140. 32 Ibid., 138–139; quotation is from p. 139. 33 Ibid., 139. 34 Ibid. “Symphony Player May Lose His Job”, Minneapolis Tribune, October 13, 1918, 13. 35 Sherman, Music and Maestros, 139.

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“­Minneapolis Symphony orchestra grows upon this community in war time as in peace time”.36 Reacting to a concert by the visiting Minneapolis Symphony, the editor of the Bloomington Pantagraph (Illinois), went even further, urging the residents of that Illinois city to actually emulate the complex coordination of the symphony orchestra in setting aside differences to instead work in harmony for the war effort. “Bloomington needs the unity of a symphony orchestra to do her part in the war. There were no Republicans or Democrats in the Minneapolis Symphony Orchestra under the direction of Emil Oberhoffer, no capital or labor, no Protestants or Catholics”.37 Although Oberhoffer continued to serve as music director in Minneapolis for several years after the war, the tensions and anxieties of the war period arguably contributed to his abrupt departure in April 1922. Oberhoffer’s resignation followed disagreements with the board and its director, Elbert L. Carpenter, over programming and personnel and the cancellation of a Spring 1922 tour; moreover, a labor dispute between the musicians and management had threatened the 1921–1922 season, which came off after the dispute was resolved but which had led to significant turnover in the orchestra’s personnel. Continuing to express a German artistic commitment to improving insufficiently cultured Americans, Oberhoffer had increasingly despaired that he had tried “to educate the people here to music but it hasn’t done much good”.38 In a farewell letter printed in newspapers after his resignation was announced, Oberhoffer took a more sanguine view of his achievement in founding the Minneapolis Symphony and conducting it for nineteen years. Oberhoffer wrote that some had warned him in 1903 that “the city was not ready for such heavy music”, and announced, “Ladies and Gentlemen, the other evening you sat through a complete Brahms program, and I notice you did not even make for the fire escapes when we played Stravinsky, and I am glad I did not follow the advice of my musical (?) brethren of long ago”.39 Yet the Munich-born maestro’s departure was apparently colored by the legacy of the anti-German climate during the war years. One insider noted that Carpenter had been affected by the wartime criticism he had received for managing an orchestra with “a German conductor and so many Germans in it. I think he welcomed the opportunity after that criticism to cut loose from EO [Emil Oberhoffer] 36 37

“Our Orchestra as an Asset”, Minneapolis Tribune, September 16, 1912, 12. “Symphony Orchestra Lesson”, Bloomington Pantagraph editorial, reprinted in the Minneapolis Tribune, June 18, 1918, 1. For the mid to late nineteenth century development in American culture of the idea of the hierarchically organized symphony orchestra as “an ideal microcosm of society”, see Gienow-Hecht, “Trumpeting Down the Walls of Jericho”, 592. 38 Sherman, Music and Maestros, 143–148; quotation from p. 148. 39 Ibid., 149.

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when the flareup came and EO resigned”.40 Oberhoffer’s final weekend of concerts were similarly shaped by the searing wartime experience. Among the works performed were Richard Strauss’s Death and Transfiguration and Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No. 4, reflecting long-term emphases in Oberhoffer’s programming in Minneapolis. But the very last work he conducted was Hugo Kaun’s Festival March and Hymn to Liberty, which culminates in The Star-Spangled Banner. Before conducting the Kaun, Oberhoffer turned to the audience and suggested that they rise and sing the unofficial anthem “at that point” in the piece. When The Star-Spangled Banner began, Oberhoffer turned to the audience and sang as he conducted the patriotic air. Following the music, the audience broke into a thunderous standing ovation of several minutes, but Oberhoffer returned only once from the wings to acknowledge the applause. In his final performance in Minneapolis, then, Oberhoffer had felt compelled to once again ritualistically demonstrate his American patriotism, as he had done in nearly every concert during the war. Skirting the fraught musical politics attached to German orchestral music-making in the United States, the Minneapolis Symphony’s next music director would be a Belgian, Henri Verbrugghen, appointed in 1923.41 In conclusion, Emil Oberhoffer and the Minneapolis Symphony experienced a relatively mild version of the anti-German reaction that engulfed most major American symphony orchestras in the World War I era. The relative mildness of the anti-Teutonic fervor in Minneapolis may have been due to the fact that Oberhoffer, unlike most German maestros of the era, had long been a naturalized U.S. citizen, as well as to the relatively large population of German descent in the Upper Midwest. Yet the effort to conform orchestral music making, which had long developed within a German mode in the United States, to the demands of 100% Americanism, had a meaningful, if relatively short-term, impact on symphonic music in Minneapolis, as it did elsewhere. The anti-German reaction significantly shaped the music programming choices that Emil Oberhoffer made during the war and the ways in which he and the Minneapolis Symphony staged their concerts and public personae, and may have contributed to Oberhoffer’s abrupt exit from the Minneapolis podium a few years after the war. The repercussions for orchestral music-making were 40

Interview with Hamlin Hunt, June 28, 1947, John Sherman, Research Interview Notes, PA 12, Ser. 14, Minnesota Orchestra Archives, Manuscript Division, University of Minnesota-Minneapolis. 41 Sherman, Music and Maestros, 148–150; quotation from p. 150. Oberhoffer moved to California, where he guest conducted the Los Angeles Philharmonic and San Francisco Symphony and died in San Diego in 1933.

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not nearly as severe in Minneapolis as in Boston or Cincinnati, but the impact of the anti-German fervor was no less real.42

Works Cited



Unpublished Archival Materials



Published Works

Minnesota Orchestra Archives, Manuscript Division, University of MinnesotaMinneapolis

Bowles, Edmund A. “Karl Muck and His Compatriots: German Conductors in America during World War I (and How They Coped)”. American Music 25, no. 4 (2007): 405–440. Capozzola, Chris, et al. “Interchange: World War I”. Journal of American History 102, no. 2 (2015): 463–499. Chrislock, Carl H. Watchdog of Loyalty: The Minnesota Committee of Public Safety during World War I. St. Paul: Minnesota Historical Society Press, 1991. Faue, Elizabeth. Community of Suffering and Struggle: Women, Men, and the Labor Movement in Minneapolis, 1915–1945. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1991. Gienow-Hecht, Jessica C. E. “Trumpeting Down the Walls of Jericho: The Politics of Art, Music, and Emotion in German-American Relations, 1870–1920”. Journal of Social History 36, no. 3 (2003): 585–613. Gross, Steven J. “‘Perils of Prussianism’: Main Street German America, Local Autonomy, and the Great War”, Agricultural History 78, no. 1 (2004): 78–116. Hart, Philip. Orpheus in the New World. New York: W.W. Norton, 1973. Horowitz, Joseph. “Music and the Gilded Age: Social Control and Sacralization Revisited”. The Journal of the Gilded Age and The Progressive Era 3, no. 3 (2004): 227–245. Horowitz, Joseph. Wagner Nights: An American History. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1994. Lansing, Chris. Insurgent Democracy: The Nonpartisan League in North American Politics. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 2015.

42

Bowles, “Karl Muck and His Compatriots”; Gienow-Hecht, “Trumpeting Down the Walls of Jericho”, 604. Gienow-Hecht argues persuasively that the wartime travails of German conductors may have been opened the doors to Russian, French, and Italian conductors in the United States after the war, but that their “German peers also repopulated the stages” and that German music and musicians quickly regained the august stature that they had enjoyed on American concert stages before the Great War.

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Lee, Art. “Hometown Hysteria: Bemidji at the Start of World War I”. Minnesota History 49, no. 2 (1984): 65–75. Levine, Lawrence. Highbrow/Lowbrow: The Emergence of Cultural Hierarchy in America. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1988. Luebke, Frederick C. Bonds of Loyalty: German Americans and World War I. Dekalb, IL: Northern Illinois University, 1974. Matsen, William E. “Professor William S. Schaper, War Hysteria, and the Price of Academic Freedom”. Minnesota History 51, no. 4 (Winter 1988): 130–137. Rippley, La Vern J. “Conflict in the Classroom: Anti-Germanism in Minnesota Schools, 1917–19”. Minnesota History 47, no. 5 (1981): 170–183. Sherman, John K. Music and Maestros: the History of the Minneapolis Symphony Orchestra. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1952. Thomas, William H. Unsafe for Democracy: World War I and the U.S. Justice Department’s Covert Campaign to Suppress Dissent. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 2008. Tischler, Barbara L. “One Hundred Percent Americanism and Music in Boston during World War I”. American Music 4, no. 2 (1986): 164–176. Trachtenberg, Alan. The Incorporation of America: Culture and Society in the Gilded Age. New York: Hill and Wang, 1982.

Birth of a Nation: Theatrical Interventions in the Legacy of the Great War and Ideas of Canada’s National Identity Lindsay Thistle If there is conflict between the myth and the world it explains, the myth must change. Theodoor P. Van Baaren1

∵ War has profoundly shaped Canada and Canadian lives not only in the social, economic, and political sectors, but also in the cultural domain. Canada’s literature, theater, art, film, television, ceremonies, and museums, among other areas of cultural representation, have influenced how war is remembered, understood, commemorated and integrated into Canada’s national narrative.2 The Great War has frequently and consistently been cited as a central and foundational part of these discussions. Because of this, ideas about the legacy and lasting impact of World War I have been represented and re-represented by Canadian artists. This chapter addresses how the legacy of the Great War has been dramatized in Canadian theater specifically. Playwrights present an intriguing case study as theater’s ephemerality allows changing reactions to the Great War to be documented over time, in ways more immediate than film, literature or television. I will employ a historical perspective to analyze how the Great War has been mythologized and remembered over time in Canadian theater, and to demonstrate how theater’s ephemerality positions a temporary, live, in-themoment performance next to larger issues of myth, the Great War and identity. More specifically, I will historicize plays about World War I and ideas about its legacy alongside the changing historical, cultural and socio-political concerns 1 Theodoor P. Van Baaren, “The Flexibility of Myth”, in Sacred Narrative: Readings in the Theory of Myth, ed. Alan Dundes (Berkley: University of California Press, 1984), 223. 2 In my dissertation, Myth and History Representations of War on the Canadian Stage from 1960– 2011, I began to draft a list of Canadian plays about war that has since grown to include over 130 titles in from 1960 until 2016. This shows how frequently and consistently theater artists alone have engaged in discussions of war and identity in Canada. © VERLAG FERDINAND SCHÖNINGH, 2019 | DOI:10.30965/9783506788245_008

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of the periods in which the plays were written. I will address how temporal ­issues have altered the way the Great War is mythologized and tied to national development and independence in Canada. Because I am concerned with the legacy and long-term understanding of World War I, my focus will be on plays from 1960 on. This is when theater in Canada moved away from British and American influences towards a more Canadian-rooted industry as a result of the recommendations of the Massey Report in 1951, the creation of the Canada Council in 1957 and the centennial in 1967. The patterns suggested in the plays under analysis are not all encompassing, nor am I ranking them as the “most” popular or important. I want to caution against understanding such ideas as an oversimplification of the complex negotiations of ideas, ideologies, events, representations, etc. of a historical period. I strive to situate the plays among and connect them to the socio-political and/or historical discussions of the period they were created in. This is not to say that different plays during cannot also be connected to different sociopolitical discussions, I believe they can be, but given the parameters of this collection, I’ve selected the plays that best represent national, country-wide issues of Canada and World War I, and also ones that interact with international perceptions of Canada. When discussing the legacy of World War I in Canada, there has long been an emphasis on a “birth of a nation” narrative. For example, in 2012 at the ninety-fifth anniversary of the Battle of Vimy Ridge, Canada’s Governor General, David Johnston, said that the notable World War I battle “marked the birth of a nation”.3 This opinion was also expressed by World War I veteran Arthur Edward Ross: “In those few minutes I witnessed the birth of a nation”.4 For Jack. Granatstein the “idea that Canada was a small, unimportant colony could scarcely be sustained” after World War I.5 The plays under analysis certainly interact with these ideas, however, they also suggest other ideas about the legacy of World War I as it pertains to Canada’s colonial history, its focus on multiculturalism and representation as an international peacekeeper.

3 Natalie Stechyson, “Battle of Vimy Ridge marked Canada’s Birth of a Nation, says G-G on 95th Anniversary of Battle”, National Post, April 9, 2012, http://news.nationalpost.com /2012/04 /09/vimy-ridge-marked-canadas-birth-as-a-nation-g-g-says-on-95th-aniversary-of-battle/ (last access, May 1, 2014). 4 Tim Cook, “The Battle of Vimy Ridge: 9–12 April 1917”, Canadian War Museum, May 9 2012, accessed November 2, 2014, http://www.warmuseum.ca/cwm/exhibitions/vimy/index_e .shtml. 5 Jack Granatstein, Who Killed Canadian History? (Toronto: HarperCollins Publishers, 1998), 138.

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The National 1970s

The nationalistic vision is reflected in one of the most widely recognized Canadian plays about World War I, Billy Bishop Goes to War by John Gray with Eric Peterson. The play tells the story of one of Canada’s most acclaimed war figures, Billy Bishop. Bishop was known as a small-town misfit from Owen Sound, Ontario who went on to become the British Empire’s top fighter pilot with seventy-two victories.6 The play is based on Winged Warfare; an autobiographical book written by Bishop in which he chronicles his first kills in World War I and it was first produced in 1978 at the Vancouver East Cultural Centre in British Columbia. Billy Bishop is part-musical and largely a one-person show; actor Eric Peterson plays over fifteen characters while Gray accompanies him by singing and playing the piano. Although Gray was the one who initially wrote the script, he and Peterson worked very closely together. Both undertook frequent visits to military archives for research and Gray credits Peterson with contributing many of the historical details.7 Billy Bishop reflects the “birth of a nation” and nationalist narrative in a number of ways, but most significantly it is done symbolically through the character of Bishop whose own growth throughout the play largely parallels that of Canada in the war. At the start of the play, he is presented as a very “average”, unremarkable boy, unsure of himself, doubting himself and still coming into his own, but by the end, he is accomplished, strong, independent and confident. Early in the story we learn that Bishop didn’t do very well in school and doesn’t have noble or heroic motivations when he joins the military. He says: “All my friends were very keen to join up, they were. Not me. Royal Military College had been enough for me”.8 Bishop becomes a member of the cavalry and in his letters home, often complains about the mud and rain. One night at a pub, a British soldier tells Bishop that the only way to escape the mud is to join the Royal Flying Corps. Bishop immediately dismisses the idea, reflecting a colonial inferiority complex. He responds, “How can I get into the Royal Flying Corps? I’m Canadian. I’m cannon fodder”.9 But, through luck and the desperation of the war, Bishop eventually becomes a pilot. The hero of the play then meets Lady St. Helier, a stereotypical portrayal of an older British lady: established, wealthy, controlling, outspoken and domineering, and who by extension, 6 Lieutenant-Colonel David Bashow, “The Incomparable Billy Bishop: The Man and the Myths”, Canadian Military Journal 3:3 (2002), 55. 7 Robert Wallace and Cynthia Zimmerman, The Work: Conversations with English-Canadian Playwrights (Toronto: Coach House Press, 1982), 50. 8 John Gray, Billy Bishop Goes to War (Vancouver: Talonbooks, 1981), 20. 9 Ibid., 34.

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represents Britain and depicts the colonial mentality towards Canada. When she first meets Bishop, she tells him: You are a rude young man behaving like cannon fodder. Perfectly acceptable characteristics in a Canadian, but you are different. You are a gifted Canadian and that gift belongs to a much older and deeper tradition than Canada can ever hope to provide.10 Lady St. Helier takes Bishop under her wing and tries to transform him from a colonial into a distinguished soldier of the British Empire, but Bishop achieves success on his own. It was this success that in part, fueled Gray and Peterson in the creation of the play from a nationalist perspective. They asked, “Why were more top aces Canadian than any other nationality?”11 Throughout the play we see the public perception of Bishop and his own self-image change to reflect his “triumphs” in the war. After receiving medals from the King of England, Bishop tells the audience proudly: But after the investiture come the parties, the balls, the photographers, the newspaper reporters, the Lords and Ladies, the champagnes, the filet mignon and the fifty-year-old brandy. And here’s me, Billy Bishop, from Owen Sound, Canada, and I know one thing: this is my day!12 This is a major transformation from the young Bishop earlier in the play with a “speech pattern that is of a small town Canadian boy who could well be squealing his tires down the main street of some town at this very moment”.13 Billy has now become a figurehead and symbol of Canadian achievement. Along with paralleling Canada’s growth as a nation through the character of Bishop and including anti-colonial themes, Billy Bishop mythologizes Canada. It is depicted as a peaceful and friendly place, far away from war. The piano player sings, “Nobody starts no wars in Canada”, since “folks tend to wish each other well”.14 Billy Bishop also pays particular attention to celebrating Canada’s natural landscape, something frequently cited in Canada’s mythology and used to distinguish it from Britain or the United States. Berger argues that Canada’s

10 11 12 13 14

Ibid., 47. Ibid., 6. Ibid., 96. Ibid., 19. Author’s italics. Ibid., 44.

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“unique and distinctive character [is] derived from its northern location”.15 In 1963, Canadian nationalist and historian Arthur Lower said: “Let us celebrate the forest, write stories about it, make poems in its praise. Let us cross the paddle and the axe in national symbolism”.16 In the play, Billy and the Piano Player romantically sing about their memories of home. Take me under That big blue sky, Where the deer and the black bear play. It may not be heaven, But heaven knows we try, Wish I was in Canada today. I’m dreaming of the trees in Canada, Northern Lights are dancing in my head.17 Billy Bishop positions a northern landscape at the core of Canada’s national imagery, suggesting it as a distinguishing and uniquely Canadian feature. Eva Mackey suggests: “In nationalist mythology the nation is often represented as embodied in the landscape itself”.18 Therefore by celebrating and glorifying it, the plays are symbolically doing the same for Canada. Along with attempting to create a positive and unique image of Canada, Billy Bishop also repositions imperial narratives of World War I by telling the stories directly from a Canadian perspective. World War I is seen through Bishop’s ­Canadian eyes with the other British characters at the periphery of his narrative and at the mercy of his storytelling. Furthermore, with this repositioning the play makes significant suggestions about Canadian heroes and heroism. Just a few years before Billy Bishop was created, Margaret Atwood transformed discussions of identity and myth in Canada when she argued that survival was a defining theme of Canadian literature or “the central symbol for Canada”.19 She writes: “our stories are likely to be tales not of those who made it but of those who made it back, from the awful experience – the North, the s­ nowstorm, the

15

Carl Berger, “The True North Strong and Free”, in Nationalism in Canada, ed. Peter Russell (Toronto: McGraw Hill, 1966), 4. 16 Welf H. Heick, ed., History and Myth: Arthur Lower and the Making of Canadian Nationalism (University of British Columbia Press, 1975), 199. 17 Gray, Billy Bishop, 45–46. 18 Eva Mackey, “‘Death by Landscape’ Race, Nature, and Gender in Canadian Nationalist Mythology”, Canadian Women’s Studies 20, no. 2 (2000): 125. 19 Margaret Atwood, Survival (Toronto: Anansi, 1972), 32.

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sinking ship – that killed everyone else”.20 David Lucking agrees that survival is particularly Canadian. It is a “coordinating symbol, which seems to make sense of the distinctive features of the Canadian experience”.21 Gray himself further emphasizes that a hero in Canada is someone who has simply survived: “If somebody went up north and disappeared, then came back alive six months later, a Canadian would consider him a hero. A Brit would prefer that he had died – that would make him a hero”.22 Reflecting these discussions, Bishop survives despite numerous close brushes with death. In a letter home, he recounts: “Yesterday, I had a narrow escape. A bullet came through the windshield and creased my helmet”.23 Despite the odds being against him, Bishop makes a safe return. John Gray also believes this survivor mentality to be a colonial consequence: “In Britain, survival isn’t a question so death is a value. Dying for something is a value. In Canada living for something is a value. It’s an essential difference between a colony and imperial country”.24 This is clear at the end of the play when Billy is told: Bishop, the problem with your colonial is that he has a morbid enthusiasm for life. You might call it a Life-Wish. Now what happens when your colonial figurehead gets killed? I’ll tell you what happens. Colonial morale plummets. Despair is in the air. Fatalism rears its ugly head. But a living colonial figurehead is a different cup of tea.25 In Billy Bishop with its nationalist depiction of Canada and World War I, Gray critiques the Canadian theater industry in the 1970s, which remained largely run by British Artistic Directors and actors. Gray says that he and Peterson were labelled nationalists in Canadian theater, a term of condemnation at this time, “and, therefore, unfit for the more cosmopolitan world of the Regional Theatres”.26 The creation of these anti-imperial plays in a field where imperial attitudes still existed became a major step in creating a new nationalist point of view, one which challenged the dominant attitude held by many in the regional theater system. In English-Canadian Theatre, Eugene Benson and L. W. Conolly reported: “A 1971 study showed that of 108 plays produced by 20 21

Ibid., 33. David Lucking, Myth and Identity: Essays on Canadian Literature (Lecce: Edizioni Milella, 1995), 26. 22 Wallace and Zimmerman, The Work, 52. 23 Gray, Billy Bishop, 73. 24 Wallace and Zimmerman, The Work, 53. 25 Gray, Billy Bishop, 93 26 Gray, Billy Bishop, 5.

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seven regional theaters between 1965 and 1971, only 19 were Canadian”.27 Because of this, during the 1970s Canadian theater artists like Gray and Peterson created a new movement and pushed for the development of “alternative” theaters in found spaces across the country that created a place for Canadian artists to write and stage Canadian stories. In fact, “in both the 1971–72 and 1972–73 seasons in Canada, more than 200 new Canadian plays received fullscale productions”.28 This national push in the theater to create plays like Billy Bishop that celebrated Canada was symptomatic of larger shifts in Canadian history, politics and culture in the 1970s. In the 1960s and 1970s, surrounding Canada’s Centennial and just prior to the repatriation of the constitution in 1982, was a period of concerted nation building and mythmaking with the “most intense discussions” around questions of Canadian identity.29 It was during this period that Canada created its own flag and national anthem, Montreal hosted the world for the summer Olympics and Expo 67 – the World’s Fair, and Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau’s (1919–2000) national politics were catching hold. In addition, the Canadian Radio-Television and Telecommunications Commission created its first Canadian content regulations, and new Canadian television networks began broadcasting. More funding was made available for arts projects with the creation of the Canada Council in the 1950s. This cultural infrastructure made possible the performance and popularizing of Canadian identity, and Canadians were able to see their own national identity presented in ways more consistent, celebratory and frequent than before.

The Expansion of the 1980s

By the 1980s the independence movement and national priorities of the 1960s and 1970s were beginning to wane with new social and political foci taking centre stage. One of the major changes in Canadian plays about World War I in the 1980s was an increase in female playwrights writing about the subject, and in representations of war with central female and/or immigrant characters. Reflective of these trends and the plays to be discussed in this section are Anne Chislett’s Quiet in the Land, first produced at The Blyth Festival in 1981 about an 27 28 29

Eugene Benson and L. W. Conolly, English-Canadian Theatre (Toronto: Oxford University Press, 1987), 83. Don Rubin, Creeping Towards a Culture (Guelph: Alive Press, 1974), 20. Sabine Jackson, Robertson Davies and the Quest for a Canadian National Identity (New York: Peter Lang, 2006), 35.

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Amish community in Ontario during World War I, and Wendy Lill’s The Fighting Days, first performed in 1983 at the Prairie Theatre Exchange in Winnipeg, which follows the local suffragist during World War I. In the 1980s, the legacy of World War I was looked it through the perspectives of women and European immigrants in order to speak to Canada’s contemporary identity as a multicultural nation. These plays broaden the ideas of World War I included by playwrights like Gray in the 1970s. Rather than taking a protagonistic focus (one central hero character), here playwrights challenge individualist perspectives, and focus on the characters as a collective in both the plot and structure of the play. There is a privileging of characters that remain part of the collective over those who leave it. Diversity of age, gender, class, political and religious beliefs are also highlighted, with the focus shifting from the soldier overseas and to the experiences of those at home. This makes combat itself less central to the plot and the impact of broader war issues on group and community dynamics is clear. We see complicating discussions of identity and a more varied depiction of Canada coming through; in some cases the country is still celebrated, while in other cases, Canada is critiqued as a nation with its own prejudices. At the centre of the plays are the trials and tribulations of these groups and their lives in Canada. I don’t mean to imply that women and European immigrant playwrights did not engage in such discussions before, or that they were never represented in plays about World War I prior to this period, but that in Canadian theater during the 1980s, there was a clear increase in playwrights who chose to mythologize Canada and World War I from these perspectives. I believe this “expansionist” shift can be historicized alongside the socio-political issues of women and immigrants, changes to the theater industry, and the rise of social history. In The Fighting Days, Lill addresses women’s history and follows the activist work of Canadian suffragists, Francis Beynon and Nellie McClung. Even within her initial expansion of myth to include stories of women, Lill shifts her focus away from the more famous character of McClung to the lesser-known Beynon. Lill’s approach invites audiences “to explore (…) the processes of choice and to engage with the construction of history, not as a narrative of dates and of great (wo)men, but of multiple narratives and perspectives, each with their own truths and validity”.30 Lill further expands stories of World War I in plays from the 1970s to include immigrant issues and focuses minimally on soldiers going to war. The play devotes greater attention to the debate between 30

Susan Bennett, “The Occupation of Wendy Lill: Canadian Women’s Voices”, in Women on the Canadian Stage: The Legacy of Hrotsvit, ed. Rita Much (Winnipeg: Blizzard Publishing, 1992), 71.

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Beynon and McClung about whether non-Dominion-born women should get the vote. Nellie believes that “The only way to protect our (…) traditions (…) is to limit the vote to Empire women”,31 whereas Francis believes “in the vote for (…) all women”.32 This debate is continued throughout the play, showing us issues that are not immediately associated with Canada and World War I. Lill appears to suggest that Canada’s success in battles like Vimy Ridge, for example, was not the only way that war helped define Canada as a nation, but that it was also shaped by debates like these, which were taking place at home. Chislett’s Quiet in the Land also re-positions its frame to tell stories of an immigrant group. Chislett presents World War I through the eyes of a pacifist Amish immigrant community in Ontario, exploring the Amish views of community, marriage, family, church, faith, identity, war, and pacifism that are contradictory to the non-Amish majority. She addresses their experiences settling in Canada and choosing such isolation. In the case of these playwrights, “the choice of a historical subject can be seen as part of a nationalist wish to re-discover and re-present our shared past”.33 Myth, according to Theodoor P. Van Baaren, “explains the why and how of the here and now”.34 This approach to reflect Canada’s “here and now” is expressed by Lill and Chislett. With increased interest on women’s rights and with immigrants moving to Canada in greater numbers than in the preceding decades, certainly there were more Canadian stories to be told and new myths to add to the ground-breaking work of playwrights like Gray. Both Lill and Chislett were commissioned to write these plays: Lill to write about women in Manitoba history and Chislett to write about Amish history. That these plays were commissioned also says something about the type of relationship they have with the history they seek to mythologize. These playwrights were explicitly asked to write stories that weren’t being addressed. Less than a decade before, the concern had been simply getting Canadian plays on stage and this may in part explain why Gray took such a national and celebratory approach. But in the 1980s, with that door opened, playwrights were able to build upon that work, going deeper and mythologizing different and more varied aspects of our World War I history. “In the 1950s”, explains Daniel Francis, “seventy-five percent of all ­Canadians were of either British or French background. It was a familiar ­ethnically 31 32 33 34

Wendy Lill, The Fighting Days (Vancouver: Talonbooks, 1985), 72. Ibid., 37. Cynthia Zimmerman, Playwriting Women: Female Voice in English Canada (Toronto: ­Simon & Pierre, 1994), 65. Van Baaren, “The Flexibility of Myth”, 223.

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­homogenous society”.35 Eighty percent of immigrants to Canada were ­European36 and in 1971 the number was still high at sixty percent.37 Broadening Canada’s World War I mythology seemed necessary in order to provide a sense of identity to these parts of the population and to address issues relevant to them. The issues of these plays also reflected socio-political discussions in Canada during the 1980s. The Immigration Act was passed in 1976 and “prohibited discrimination based on race, nationality or ethnic origin”.38 Multiculturalism would become even more engrained in 1982, when the constitution was repatriated, freeing Canada of another colonial tie to Britain and creating Canada’s Charter of Rights and Freedoms, which recognized multiculturalism “specifically” as “a Canadian value”.39 And in 1988, the Multiculturalism Act was passed and further “formalized the government’s multiculturalism policy”.40 The mid-to-late 1980s also saw greater numbers of newcomers to Canada, when Prime Minister Mulroney “raised immigration levels significantly above those set by the previous Liberal administration”.41 The stories in these plays were mythologized in theater because they were topical in national discussions and because Canada’s population was changing. Because the earlier focus of the 1970s was on nationalization rather than the women’s movement that was also going on during that same period, it doesn’t appear to be until the 1980s, after the Canadianist movement cooled, that feminism in Canada “became a more potent force”.42 By the late 1980s, theaters had “redefined their mandates to emphasize goals much more specific than ‘Canadian theatre.’”43 In fact, reflecting this growing interest in diversity, new theater companies emerged, this time called the “new alternatives”, to tell the stories of minority groups. For example, Nightwood Theatre was founded in 1979 and is Canada’s oldest professional women’s theater; Native Earth Performing Arts 35 Francis, National Dream, 175. 36 Sarah Wayland, “Immigration, Multiculturalism and National Identity in Canada”, International Journal on Group Rights 5 (1997), 50. 37 Gail Cuthbert Brandt et al., Canadian Women: A History (Toronto, Nelson Education: 2011), 430. 38 Wayland, “Immigration”, 45. 39 Leo Driedger and Jean Burnet, “Multiculturalism”, The Canadian Encyclopedia, 2012. Accessed February 2, 2015. http://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.com/articles/ multiculturalism. 40 Ibid. 41 Wayland, “Immigration”, 50. 42 Judy Rebick, Ten Thousand Roses: The Making of a Feminist Revolution (Toronto: Penguin Canada, 2005), 127. 43 Robert Wallace, Staging a Nation: Evolutions in Contemporary Canadian Theatre (London: Canadian High Commission, Canada House, 2002), 16.

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was formed in 1982 to tell the stories of Canada’s Indigenous peoples; and Buddies and Bad Times was created in 1979 and became an outlet for Canada’s queer theater community. These changes further show why myths about Canada and World War I changed to include the particular groups they did. In order “to prevent loss of function or total disappearance (…) a myth is adapted to a new situation, armed to withstand a new challenge”.44 Lill and Chislett interrogate the term “immigrant” as well as constructions of nationality. They question how multiple identities coincide internally, socially, and politically; an approach representative of feminism in 1980s and 1990s, which “emphasized the multiplicity of women’s identities”.45 If Atwood’s thematic notion of survival was a key to the mythology of the 1970s, clearly here it becomes the “attention to and emphasis on interpersonal connection and social identity”.46 One can see it even when issues of family and community are “fraught with difficulty, peril, and heartache”47 Atwood, of course, also spoke of “family and structures (…) rotting away”48 arguing that “If in England the family is a mansion you live in, and if in America it’s a skin you shed, then in Canada it’s a trap in which you’re caught”.49 These plays address questions of group identity from within the collective and family, particularly those under stress (often set in motion by the war). The families of Quiet in the Land are divided: CHRISTY. Will you grant me that if I put a stop to their study meeting, I’ll put an end to what’s ripping my church apart? MENNO. No! You’ll put a stop to the only thing that’s keeping the rest of us in. If you’d just come and see the work we’re doing – CHRISTY. I see the fruits. You pore over the Bible, not for comfort, not for wisdom. No, you’re looking for way to put your elders in the wrong. You take a couple words out of a verse, you twist them all around so you can justify any fancy things you want.50

44 45

Van Baaren, “The Flexibility of Myth”, 218. Mona Gleason, Tamara Myers and Adele Perry, “Introduction to Chapter 19”, in Rethinking Canada: The Promise of Women’s History, eds. Mona Gleason, Tamara Myers and Adele Perry (Don Mills: Oxford University Press, 2011), 337. 46 Sarah M. Corse, Nationalism and Literature: The Politics of Culture in Canada and the United States (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1997), 76. 47 Ibid., 76. 48 Atwood, Survival, 132. 49 Ibid., 131. 50 Anne Chislett, Quiet in the Land (Toronto: Coach House Press, 1983), 88.

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The Fighting Days shows Francis’ group in conflict when Francis challenges Nellie’s commitment: FRANCIS. What about Women for Peace, Nell? NELLIE. Stop it. FRANCIS. Was that just another phrase that flowed off your tongue? LILY. Fanny, don’t talk like this! Please! FRANCIS. Did you ever really believe we could stop war or change anything at all? NELLIE. Of course I did! I do! LILY. Stop this! MCNAIR. Francis, calm down! FRANCIS. Why are you all trying to shut me up!51 The challenges for these groups continue through a strong sense of dislocation and disruption. Quiet in the Land highlights the dislocation of a whole community prior to and during the war. In the 1820s, after being persecuted in Europe, a group of Amish joined the United Empire Loyalists in Canada.52 They did so under the agreement that they would not receive the privileges of British Loyalists, but that they were able to own land in Waterloo County, and most significantly, that they were absolved from conscription.53 What developed was an isolated Amish farming community, with its own language and customs, quite apart from the rest of Canada. Quiet in the Land follows their struggle to remain isolated: YOCK. The world is changing, Pa. CHRISTY. The world always changes, being a Christian doesn’t. HANNAH. That’s why we stay separate. YOCK. But we can’t anymore. This is the biggest war in history.54 In their many struggles, the ability of these characters to endure through ­disappointment and frustration is also something the playwrights seek to mythologize. Quiet in the Land shows us Yock’s disappointment with his expectations of the war.“I thought I was going off to save you all from something (…). I thought the King of England was going to be there like in the school books, 51 Lill, The Fighting, 73–74. 52 Chislett, Quiet, i. 53 Ibid. 54 Ibid., 40.

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cheering me on”.55 The Fighting Days focuses on the expectations of Francis as the reality of the war causes conflict within the suffragist movement itself. At the end of the play, McNair tells Francis that “Nobody gives a damn about your opinions, or my opinions either” and “there’s nothing you can do about it”.56 In expanding the legacy of World War I to include community narratives, we also hear multiple opinions of war and multiple opinions of Canada. This too can be viewed as a concern of the 1980s. “The women who had stood at the centre of second wave feminist theory … in the 1970s came under attack in the 1980s and 1990s with the emergence of feminist critiques of essentialism”.57 Or, that the conditions/experiences/concerns of some women were not the concerns of all. Such a diversity of opinions and characters in these plays is representative of complicating discussions of identity that were taking place in the 1980s: Labour and working-class historians had acknowledged the role of ethnicity in shaping working-class experience, but immigration historians focused their efforts on family and community bonds, framing their work as part of a narrative of migration and relocation. Women’s historians called attention to the public and private aspects of women’s lives, but in turn discovered that women’s experiences varied with class and ethnicity.58 The notion of a universal experience is challenged in these plays. The characters in Quiet in the Land “don’t speak entirely with one voice or think with one mind, which provides the script with its main source of dramatic conflict”.59 Zimmerman agrees that the characters “represent a range of viewpoints”.60 Likewise, in Lill’s play we see a multitude of viewpoints on a range of issues: pro-conscription, anti-conscription, pro-all women having the vote, pro only dominion-born women having the vote and opinions that simply express fear and confusion towards the war. In each of these plays, the characters also negotiate their roles and identities vis-à-vis Canadian nationalism. In The Fighting Days, Francis receives a letter 55 Ibid., 95. 56 Lill, The Fighting, 90–91. 57 Barbara A. Crow and Lise Gotell, “Who is the Woman of Canadian Women's Studies? Theoretical Interventions”, in Open Boundaries, 2nd edition, eds. Barbara A. Crow and Lise Gotell (Toronto: Pearson Education Canada, 2005), 40. 58 James Opp and John C. Walsh, eds., Home Work & Play: Situating Canadian Social History (Don Mills: Oxford University Press, 2010), xi. 59 Vit Wagner, “Blyth adds New Sparkles to Canadian Gem”, Toronto Star, June 28, 1997, M13. 60 Zimmerman, Playwriting Women, 161.

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from a Canadian woman which states that “The foreign women have their husbands safe and sound by their sides and we all envy them. They may think differently and they may not, but how can we be sure? I think perhaps we should not take the chance”.61 Lill questions how much of their original nationality one really must let go of, and how or why they are expected to let go of it before they are considered Canadian. Unlike John Gray who was most concerned with the difference between Canada and Britain, here it is the differences between and among groups within Canada that are highlighted. In Quiet in the Land, national identity is by far secondary to religious beliefs. Christy thinks: “Nations are just a drop in the bucket and counted in the small dust of the balance”,62 while Hannah argues: “Heaven and hell are the only countries a Christian has to worry about”.63 These are stories told about a collective, by a collective. Such an emphasis on the collective and the challenging of a central protagonist may also be tied to the rise of social history and its interest in the voices of the previously underrepresented groups: In the 1970s and 1980s, social historians interested in women, children, the family, household structures, immigration, and kinship placed the home and household at the centre of their analyses rather than treating domestic spaces as marginal to the larger narrative of national (and political) history.64 These plays tend not to have a central protagonist, nor do they reward individual heroics. Instead, multiple characters – or the community itself – become the source of the myth. In Quiet in the Land, Chislett “gives each of her characters their due”65 and “the split focus is completely even-handed and consistently maintained”.66 Of the ten to thirteen characters in the script, over half are included in the central community of the play, which follows Kate’s courtship with both Yock and Menno, Yock’s questioning of his Amish traditions and his decision to leave to join the army, Menno’s desire to start a Sunday School, the fear of modernization among Hannah and the elders, the arrest of Bishop Eli, Lydie’s experiences with her Irish neighbours, Christy’s role as the new bishop, and Zepp’s confusion over the future of the church. 61 Lill, The Fighting, 76. 62 Chislett, Quiet, 41. 63 Ibid. 64 Opp and Walsh, Home Work & Play, 1. 65 Wagner, “Blyth adds New Sparkle”, M13. 66 Zimmerman, Playwriting Women, 112.

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In such mythologizing the collective is privileged over the individual to such an extent that the characters who try to break free are continually lost. This is seen through Yock, the one individual who breaks from the community, leaving to fight in World War I. He defies his pacifist community and in the end, his rebellion is unforgivable. He tries to make peace with his father: “All I did was put a knife into a man … and Pa, he looked like Zepp. If he’d had a beard, he could have been Zepp. And right at the end, he cried out for his father to come and take him home, and I started crying for you”.67 Despite Yock’s plea to be accepted back, his father refuses. “He touched the unclean thing, and it touched him. The mark of Cain is upon him. He isn’t one of us anymore”.68 As these plays expand Canada’s myths of World War I, so too does their definition of a hero expand to include characters in these plays. Of The Fighting Days, Van Luven argues that “One of its most appealing aspects is its depiction of female strength and organization when neither was encouraged nor expected”.69 Each of these plays promotes heroes who are not based on clear-cut actions, but rather on their ability to endure and persevere. In Quiet in the Land, Yock also experiences discrimination. “Have you been to town lately? You see how they stare? … One woman yelled ‘shirker’ right in my face”.70 These truly are new types of heroes. In the nineteenth century heroes were individuals “whose efforts had contributed to the development of a self-governing nation. This was the main story-line of Canadian history, the gradual evolution of colony into nation”.71 Almost all were powerful men. Mackey argues that until World War II Canadian mythologies and its heroes “were based on the exclusion of racial and cultural difference and the highlighting of a hegemonic British nationality”.72 In part, such mythologizing suggests that the multicultural nation we now so often refer to as a defining part of Canada, was not always the case.

Remembering the Everyday Soldier: Stories of World War I in the 1990s and 2000s

Throughout this section I will analyze R.H. Thomson’s The Lost Boys, which was first produced in the winter of 2001 at Ottawa’s Great Canadian Theatre 67 Chislett, Quiet, 95. 68 Ibid., 100. 69 Marlene A. D. Lynne Van Luven, “Charting the Territory: A Study of Feminism in ­English-Canadian Drama from 1967 to 1991” (PhD diss., University of Alberta, 1991), 101. 70 Chislett, Quiet, 124. 71 Francis, National Dreams, 117. 72 Mackey, “Death by Landscape”, 126.

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Company and follows a man learning about World War I through family letters. I will also examine Kevin Major’s No Man’s Land, which was commissioned by Rising Tide Theatre about the Newfoundland Regiment in the battle of ­Beaumont-Hamel (Newfoundland’s role in the Battle of the Somme). It was first produced at Trinity, Newfoundland in July of 2001 and based on the book No Man’s Land, also written by Major.73 I argue that these plays connect Canada’s mythology of World War I with discussions of memory in an attempt not to celebrate or expand the legacy of World War I, but rather to remember it accurately and realistically. These stories are constructed around memories in both the play structure and in some of the sources consulted by the playwrights. Archival material, historical details, facts, and statistics are also used frequently throughout. Here stories are mythologized that commemorate and value the sacrifices of everyday Canadian soldiers. I suggest that a narrative that romanticizes war, celebrates fighting, suggests national motivations and depicts heroic deaths is demythologized or challenge, by showing a very different reality of forgotten, traumatized, ignored and damaged men, as well as constant, detailed, and gruesome images of mass and wasteful death. I argue that these playwrights are interested in historical detail and show uncomfortable truths about war because of the convergence of a number of factors in the 1990s and early 2000s: a theatrical return to docudrama and ­verbatim theater, the dominance of the peacekeeping mythology combined with the relative peace of the period, and a general increase in concerns about war and its memory in Canadian culture and history, largely due to the aging veteran. As those who fought in World War I are no longer with us, questions of how these events are to be remembered become more pressing. The urgency was highlighted in early 2012 when the last surviving World War I veteran, Florence Green, passed away.74 In anticipation of these types of moments, t­ ime-sensitive negotiations of how Canada is to remember the World Wars were addressed during this period. In fact, in the 1990s and into the early 2000s, questions of remembrance were also reflected in other areas of Canadian culture. In 1997, Rudyard  Griffiths created The Dominion Institute in order to “rediscover the links that exist between our history, civic traditions and common identity”.75 One of their 73 74 75

Kevin Major, No Man’s Land: A Novel (Toronto: Doubleday Canada, 1996). Margalit Fox, “Florence Green, Last World War I Veteran Dies at 110”, The New York Times, February 7, 2012. Accessed March 1, 2013. http://www.nytimes.com/2012/02/08/world/ europe/ Florence-green-last-world-war-i-veteran-dies-at-110.html?_r=0. Charlotte Gray, “And the Rest is History: Five Years after its Founding, Charlotte Gray examines the Role of Rudyard Griffith’s Iconoclastic Dominion Institute in Making Canadians Care about Canada”, Globe and Mail, April 23, 2002, R3.

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most notable initiatives is the Memory Project, founded in 2001 to help young ­Canadians “understand the selfless sacrifices Canada’s men and women made and continue to make in war and peacetime”.76 Veterans’ stories are recorded in order to ensure preservation. In 1991, the Spicer Report “raised the profile of history education as an important policy issue. It expressed a growing concern over the relationship between the lack of historical knowledge held by young Canadians and the future viability of the nation”.77 The 1990s also saw the emergence of the Heritage Minute television commercials – sixty-second clips made by the CRB (Charles R. Bronfman) Foundation dramatizing moments in Canadian history. It was in 1998 that Canada’s War Museum received funding for a new building providing a bigger venue for national war remembrance. In 2000, the Historica Foundation was created with a mandate of engaging young Canadians “in the history of their country and in so doing to raise their levels of knowledge, awareness and historical literacy”.78 Also in 2000, the CBC aired Canada: A People’s History; an extraordinarily popular seventeen-part series that chronicled Canadian history and attracted over two and a half million viewers per episode on average.79 Ideas of remembrance and commemoration expressed by these organizations are reminiscent of the playwrights’ goals in dramatizing World War I during the same period. These developments were so pronounced that Michael Sherry noted in 2000: “Now, war-and-memory is a large subfield in its own right, paralleling the broader rise of history-and-memory issues”.80 These playwrights were addressing topical concerns of a newly contemporized subject. Major actually dedicates No Man’s Land to the memory “of the young men of the Newfoundland Regiment who went off to the Great War and for the families they left”,81 and R. H. Thomson dedicates The Lost Boys to his Great Aunt for holding on to the letters from the war because, he says, without her, “my journey would never have happened”.82 This lack of first-hand experience with war on the part of the writers may explain why they rely so heavily on the use of diaries, ­interviews, 76

“The Memory Project Speakers Bureau”. The Historica-Dominion Institute, https://www .historica-dominion.ca/content/programs/memory-project-speakers-bureau (last access, February 4, 2015). 77 Howard D. Fremeth, “Memory, Militarism, and Citizenship: Tracking the Dominion Institute” (PhD diss., Carlton University, 2010), 84. 78 “The Historica-Dominion Institute” The Andrea and Charles Bronfman Philanthropies. Accessed February 1, 2015. http://www.acbp.net/canada/historica.php. 79 Granatstein, Who Killed, 165. 80 Michael Sherry, “Probing the Memory of War: the Vitality of Military History”, The Chronicle of Higher Education 46:18 (2000), B4. 81 Kevin Major, No Man’s Land (St. John’s: Pennywell Books, 2005), dedication page of play text. 82 R.H. Thomson, The Lost Boys (Toronto: Playwrights Canada Press, 2002), dedication page.

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photos, letters and other documents to interpret World War I. In these sources, experiences of war are recounted by those who were there themselves. In The Lost Boys, R. H. Thomson looks to his own family using letters written by his five great uncles during and after World War I, their regimental war diaries, army medical records, and letters from the families who billeted his great uncles overseas during the war. In addition, Thomson includes data on his great uncles’ attestation papers and projects family photographs of each great uncle as they are introduced throughout the play. In writing No Man’s Land, Kevin Major’s personal connection was his first cousin, “John Thomas Major of Bonne Bay”, who was “wounded in the Great War, and died in 1918 of tuberculosis while in hospital in London”.83 Major believes it is important to maintain the “authenticity of the moment” and he also looked to his local community and consulted the only living survivor of the Newfoundland Regiment, Walter Tobin.84 These playwrights believe World War I ought to be remembered accurately. Major himself says of No Man’s Land that “I wish the ending could have been different”,85 but his job was to show “what it must have been like”.86 In an interview prior to The Lost Boys opening in Ottawa, Thomson said, “We’re all sort of feeling our way here, because it’s not exactly a play. So we’ve decided to stick with reality. It’s real slides, real letters, real people and real stories. That’s so different from most theater, where everything is from the imagination”.87 Historical facts and details are incorporated to create a sense of realism and authority. These facts also serve another function. Playwrights narrate war to overcome the challenges of having to represent it on stage. Major says that “I was not without concerns, of course. There were scenes in the novel version of No Man’s Land that could not be translated convincingly to the stage, strong moments at the height of the war whose emotion I knew would have to be conveyed in other ways”.88 In the play, the reality of war is communicated to the audience rather than shown. These facts remain impactful but without the complications of accurate representation. Similarly, Thomson states in the script that during the Battle of Passchendaele, “for each meter gained 35 men

83 Major, No Man’s, 9. 84 Ibid., 13. 85 Ibid., 14. 86 Ibid., 12. 87 Barbara Crook, “The Lost Boys: A Generation Savaged by War: Actor and Man Alive host R. H. Thomson’ s New Play is based on Five Great-Uncles Who Fought in the First World War. Only One Survived”, The Ottawa Citizen, March 11, 2000, E1. 88 Major, No Man’s, 15.

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was lost”.89 In No Man’s Land, Clarke speaks to the sheer scale of the battle when he says: “The Hun have thirty-two battalions. We have two hundred and sixty-three! And if all the gun ammunition were loaded on railway trucks, the line of trucks would go on for forty-six miles!”90 The preoccupation of these plays with attempting to show the reality of war may also foreshadow the growing interest in docudrama and eventually with verbatim theater throughout the 2000s, particularly popular in Britain with playwrights like David Hare, Max Stafford-Clarke, Robin Soan, and Scotland’s Gregory Burke. In verbatim theater, plays are constructed from word-for-word interviews or speeches on a particular topic. Similarly, docudrama theater is geared towards re-enactments of historical events, with minimal creative interventions by the playwright. These plays also address certain cultural attitudes surrounding World War I and its memory, both deconstructing and reconstructing myth in the process, and challenging what Francis calls, the master narrative: The master narrative presents both world wars as heroic struggles to preserve a way of life from enemies who would overwhelm it. According to the master narrative, the sacrifice of all those young lives was valorous and meaningful. War is horrible, but its horror is redeemed by noble sacrifice. This is the official memory of the war. It is unambiguous and idealistic. It invokes the war to promote unity and patriotism … For good reason, most Canadians have accepted the official view. It satisfies a deep need to believe that all the death and sacrifice was worthwhile. To question the war is to dishonour the fallen, and they, after all, died for us.91 For others, however, “there has always been a counter narrative”, says Francis, “that found the appalling slaughter pointless, and the people who sanctioned it incompetent, even evil”.92 These plays critique this “master narrative”, but also Canada’s peacekeeping mythology. The 1990s, relatively speaking, was a peaceful decade for Canada in two ways; the country itself was minimally participating in war (with the exceptions of involvement in the Persian Gulf War, the Rwandan Genocide and the war in the Balkans), and its military involvement was in peacekeeping efforts. In the context of such a clearly positioned military ideology, these 89 Tomson, The Lost, 49. 90 Major, No Man’s, 39. 91 Francis, National Dreams, 126. 92 Ibid,.126.

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plays challenge this peacekeeping identity by focusing on soldiers fighting in war. In this respect they critique what Tim Cook refers to as “the powerful but blinkered myth of being solely peacekeepers”93 and remind the audience of a different military past. During the 1990s, “Canada struggled with … its declining place in the world”.94 The inconsistency of Canada’s military myth with its reality began to show. This period of “self-reflection” overlapped with the fiftieth anniversaries of various episodes in World War II – Dieppe, D-Day, VE Day, etc. – and “stimulated a renewed appreciation of Canada’s rich military history”95 as more than just peacekeepers. These playwrights intervened in such discussions of identity and the plays may be the result of this return to or renewed interest in Canada’s history of war. With the suggestion of Canadians as fighters, we see mass death in these plays. And, in challenging the master narrative, we see that death as wasteful and largely because of the ignorance or carelessness of the decision makers. The Lost Boys shows death and devastation at Passchendaele for no good reason: Only after did a British Chief of Staff visit the battlefield. It was reported that he wept. It was reported that he said, ‘Good God, did we really send men to fight in that?’ The reply was, ‘It’s worse further on up’. 15,654 ­Canadians were killed, missing or wounded.96 In No Man’s Land, the war is also seen as mismanaged. Mrs. Martin remembers: The ‘July Drive’ they call it now. The drive of men and boys into a wall of bullets, I suppose. Many of them were shot, they say, trying to get through their own barbed wire. And of the hundreds who were wounded in no man’s land, many died because of the tin triangles on their back shining into the sun.97 These plays challenge the idea of soldiers dying a heroic death and individual acts of valour and accomplishment are lost. In The Lost Boys, R. H. ­Thomson baldly states: “2500 cemeteries (…) nine and a half million dead”.98 He 93 Tim Cook, Clio’s Warriors (Vancouver: University of British Columbia Press, 2006), 235. 94 Ibid., 234. 95 Ibid., 234. 96 Thomson, The Lost, 50. 97 Major, No Man’s, 115. 98 Thomson, The Lost, 4.

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also includes statistics of disease: “Hospital admissions in 1917, unrelated to ­enemy action; anthrax 8, dysentery 6,025, tuberculosis 1,668, venereal disease 48,506”.99 These soldiers lost their lives not fighting for a cause, but rather unglamourously in the hospital. In No Man’s Land, death is not heroic but left simply to chance. As one character puts it: “If your number comes up, it comes up. There’s not a damn thing you can do about it”.100 These plays give names, faces and stories to everyday Canadian soldiers and at the same time set up myths of general remembrance. By merging the mass statistics of death with personal experiences, the audience is reminded that each of one of those numbers is just as personal. Such changes in the depiction of heroism are representative of historiographical turns of the 1990s. In 2000, Michael Sherry wrote: “Themes of loss and mourning dominate much of today’s historical reflection about war – particularly the resurgent attention to World War I (…). To be sure, war’s hellish nature is hardly a new theme in historical scholarship. But recent work does bring that theme back forcefully”.101 Historically reminiscent of the themes of these plays was the unveiling of the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier by Governor General Adrienne Clarkson in 2000, which was “created to honour” Canadians “who died or may die for their country in all conflicts – past, present, and future”.102 Clearly this represents a shift in how ­Canadians remember war; prior to this, the one and only national military ­monument erected since World War II explicitly commemorated peacekeeping.103 This interest in the action of everyday Canadians and renewed interest in Canada’s history of war or its history of peacekeeping is at the core of these plays. I agree with Sherry who attributes these changes to the “recent attention to members of minority groups, to women and gender”, reflecting an “effort to grasp the totality of war, only part of which was captured by an older drumand-trumpets historiography”.104 That is, although these stories largely revert to a focus on male soldiers, the expansionist movement of the 1980s continued through in a new way. Instead of broadening the types of characters in the plays, these playwrights included different perspectives of war itself.

99 Ibid., 44. 100 Major, No Man’s, 113. 101 Sherry, “Probing the Memory”. 102 “Tomb of the Unknown Soldier”. Veterans Affairs: Government of Canada. Accessed December 18, 2014. https://www.veterans.gc.ca/eng/memorials/ tomb. 103 Granatstein, Who Killed, 131. 104 Sherry, “Probing the Memory”.

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In fact, the attention to the stories of everyday soldiers and a return to Ca­ nada’s history of war were so widespread that in 2001, at a point when many of these factors converged and were at their height, four plays about World War I, taking this similar approach, were produced (see attached appendix). ­Furthermore, from 1998–2008, I’ve been able to find eleven plays that represent Canada and World War I. The intense interest in the topic holds for a while despite the onset of and Canada’s involvement in the War on Terror. It falls, however, in 2009, as Canada’s mission in Afghanistan begins to wind down, and with its termination in 2011, reflections about the War on Terror take center stage. Conclusion At any given time post-1960, plays about World War I have pushed against particular historical narratives, and pulled new ones into view. Playwrights reacted to earlier plays about the war, the history of the war itself and to changing contemporary socio-political issues. The ways that World War I is represented in each period is part of much larger theatrical, political and cultural movements in Canada. That is, plays about World War I merge history and fiction together in order to remain meaningful to different generations of Canadians. Plays about World War I also focus on different aspects and experiences, as those who write the plays are products of different contexts and generations. For example, the connections between the national events of the 1970s – such as Pierre Trudeau’s proud and celebratory sense of Canada, the development of Canadian heritage organizations, the 1976 Olympics in Montreal, and the creation of a cultural infrastructure – and the plays about World War I are clear. As plays later told the stories of women and European immigrants, the large social connections to the second wave of feminism and multiculturalism also became apparent. Equally so, in the 1990s and into the 2000s, memory in general took on greater importance in Canada, in and out of the theater. Many national organizations were created to ensure the realistic memory of Canadian history with an emphasis on the everyday soldier, rather than famous historical figures – the Canadian War Museum, Heritage Minute commercials, the Dominion Institute, etc. In this examination of the legacy and mythology of World War I as represented in Canadian theater, it is important to locate these plays at a specific intersection of time and place. Understanding the plays in this way forces an evaluation of not only the “place” (the culture, the country), but also the “time” (the historic period and any chronological shift from prior moments of

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intersection to the one under evaluation). Looking at the plays as isolated stories in and of themselves neglects the most defining characteristic of legacy – it must explain something to a particular society, community or culture in a way that emphasizes the relevance of the story to that specific group. As a culture changes, so too will its myths.

Appendix: Working List of Canadian Plays about World War 1 Post-1960

Below is a list of all the plays that I’ve been able to find about World War I. I’ve included the date and year of the first production, but it is important to remember that some have had multiple remounts. This would serve as a fascinating study unto itself – examining the various remounts and connecting them to changing socio-political and cultural discussions of identity. 1960s None 1970s 1976-The Komagata Maru Incident by Sharon Pollock First Produced: Vancouver East Cultural Centre, Vancouver, British Columbia Synopsis: In 1914 a ship with hundreds of East Indian immigrants is denied entry to Canada because of racial prejudice. 1978-Billy Bishop Goes to War by John Gray with Eric Peterson First Produced: Vancouver East Cultural Centre, Vancouver, British Columbia Synopsis: Tells the story of acclaimed fighter pilot Billy Bishop overseas. 1980s 1981-Quiet in the Land by Anne Chislett First Produced: The Blyth Festival, Blyth, Ontario Synopsis: Story of an Amish community in Ontario whose traditional beliefs clash with modernization and war. 1983-The Fighting Days by Wendy Lill First Produced: Prairie Theatre Exchange, Winnipeg, Manitoba Synopsis: Women’s suffragist movement in Winnipeg following the activist work of Nellie McClung and Francis Beynon. 1987-Detaining Mr. Trotsky by Robert Fothergill First Produced: Canadian Stage, Toronto, Ontario Synopsis: A Russian revolutionary is detained in Nova Scotia.

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1990s 1992-The History of the Village of the Small Huts: The Great War by Michael Hollingsworth First Produced: Theatre Centre, Toronto, Ontario Synopsis: A parodic, subversive and satirical look at Canada and World War I. 1995-Dancock’s Dance by Guy Vanderhaeghe First Produced: Persephone Theatre, Saskatoon, Saskatchewan Synopsis: World War I vet is committed to an insane asylum, haunted by his war experiences. 1998-Somme Letters Home by Caleb Marshal (unpublished) First Produced: Atlantic Fringe Festival, Halifax, Nova Scotia Synopsis: Based on letters a young soldier wrote home. 2000s 2001-No Man’s Land by Kevin Major First Produced: Rising Tide Theatre, Trinity, Newfoundland Synopsis: A look at the Newfoundland Regiment during the Battle of the Somme. 2001-Unity (1918) by Kevin Kerr First Produced: Vancouver East Cultural Centre, Vancouver, British Columbia Synopsis: As the war ends, the town of Unity is plagued by the outbreak of the Spanish Flu. 2001-Soldier’s Heart by David French First Produced: Tarragon Theatre, Toronto, Ontario Synopsis: Newfoundland War vet returns home a damaged man. 2001-The Lost Boys by R.H. Thomson First Produced: Great Canadian Theatre Company, Ottawa, Ontario Synopsis: A man relives his great uncles’ experiences in World War I through family letters. 2002-Mary’s Wedding by Stephen Massicotte First Produced: playRites, Alberta Theatre Projects, Calgary, Alberta Synopsis: On the eve of her wedding, Mary has a recurring dream of falling in love with her fiancé and remembering their experiences of war. 2006-The Oxford Roof Climber’s Rebellion by Stephen Massicotte First Produced: Great Canadian Theatre Company, Ottawa, Ontario and Tarragon Theatre, Toronto, Ontario Synopsis: Robert Graves and T.E. Lawrence meet at Oxford University. Both men are haunted by their war experiences. 2006-Hellfire Pass by Vittorio Rossi First Produced: Centaur Theatre Company, Montreal, Quebec

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Synopsis: As an adult Silvio searches for the father who abandoned him (and his mother) in Italy. 2007-Timothy Findley’s The Wars by Dennis Garnhum First Produced: Theatre Calgary, Calgary, Alberta Synopsis: Theatrical adaptation of Findley’s novel The Wars. 2007-Vimy by Vern Thiessen First Produced: Solo Collective Theatre, Vancouver, British Columbia Synopsis: A Canadian son travels back to Germany with his elderly father. 2008-While We’re Young by Don Hannah First Produced: Department of Drama, University of Alberta, Edmonton, Alberta Synopsis: Compares the experience of young adulthood in six different periods of Canadian history including World War I. 2010s 2011-Spiral Dive by Kenneth Brown First Produced: Workshop West Theatre, Edmonton, Alberta Synopsis: A three-part series about a young Canadian fighter pilot in World War I Works Cited The Andrea and Charles Bronfman Philanthropies. “The Historica-Dominion Institute”. Last modified n.d. Accessed February 1, 2015. http://www.acbp.net/canada/ historica.php. Atwood, Margaret. Survival. Toronto: Anansi, 1972. Bashow, Lieutenant-Colonel David. “The Incomparable Billy Bishop: The Man and the Myths”. Canadian Military Journal 3:3 (2002): 55–60. Bennett, Susan. “The Occupation of Wendy Lill: Canadian Women’s Voices”. In Women on the Canadian Stage: The Legacy of Hrotsvit, ed. Rita Much, 69–80. Winnipeg: Blizzard Publishing, 1992. Benson, Eugene and L. W. Conolly. English-Canadian Theatre. Toronto: Oxford University Press, 1987. Berger, Carl. “The True North Strong and Free”. In Nationalism in Canada, edited by Peter Russell, 3–26. Toronto: McGraw Hill, 1966. Chislett, Anne. Quiet in the Land. Toronto: Coach House Press, 1983. Cook, Tim. “The Battle of Vimy Ridge: 9–12 April 1917”. Canadian War Museum, May 9 2012. Accessed October 24, 2015. http://www.warmuseum.ca/cwm/exhibitions/ vimy/index_e.shtml. Cook, Tim. Clio’s Warriors. Vancouver: University of British Columbia Press, 2006.

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Corse, Sarah M. Nationalism and Literature: The Politics of Culture in Canada and the United States. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1997. Crook, Barbara. “The Lost Boys: A generation savaged by war: Actor and Man Alive host R.H. Thomson’s new play is based on five great-uncles who fought in the First World War. Only one survived”. The Ottawa Citizen, March 11, 2000. Crow, Barbara A and Lise Gotell. “Who is the Woman of Canadian Women’s Studies? Theoretical Interventions”. In Open Boundaries, edited by Barbara Crow and Lise Gotell, 40–44. 2nd ed. Toronto: Pearson Education Canada, 2005. Cuthbert Brandt, Gail et al., Canadian Women: A History. Toronto, Nelson Education, 2011. Driedger, Leo and Jean Burnet. “Multiculturalism”. The Canadian Encyclopedia, last modified September 10, 2015. Accessed February 2, 2016. http://www.the canadianencyclopedia.com/articles/multiculturalism. Fothergill, Robert. “Detaining Mr. Trotsky”. In Public Lies and Other Plays, 1–70. Toronto: Playwrights Canada Press, 2007. Fox, Margalit. “Florence Green, Last World War I Veteran Dies at 110”. The New York Times, February 7, 2012. Accessed March 1, 2013. http://www.nytimes.com/2012/02/08/ world/europe/Florence-green-last-world-war-i-veteran-dies-at-110.html?_r=0. Francis, Daniel. National Dreams: Myth, Memory, and Canadian History. Vancouver: Arsenal Pulp Press, 1997. Fremeth, Howard D. “Memory, Militarism, and Citizenship: Tracking the Dominion ­Institute”. PhD diss., Carlton University, 2010. French, David. Soldier’s Heart. Vancouver: Talonbooks, 2003. Garnhum, Dennis. Timothy Findlay’s The Wars. Winnipeg: Scirocco Drama, 2008. Gleason, Mona, Tamara Myers and Adele Perry. “Editors’ Introduction”. In Rethinking Canada: The Promise of Women’s History, edited by Mona Gleason, Tamara Myers and Adele Perry, 337–339. 6th ed. Don Mills: Oxford University Press, 2011. Granatstein, Jack. Who Killed Canadian History? Toronto: HarperCollins Publishers, 1998. Gray, Charlotte. “And the Rest is History: Five Years after its Founding, Charlotte Gray examines the Role of Rudyard Griffith’s Iconoclastic Dominion Institute in Making Canadians Care about Canada”, Globe and Mail, April 23, 2002. Gray, John. Billy Bishop Goes to War. Vancouver: Talonbooks, 1981. Hannah, Don. While we’re Young. Toronto: Playwrights Canada Press, 2009. Heick, Welf H., ed. History and Myth: Arthur Lower and the Making of Canadian Nationalism. University of British Columbia Press, 1975. The Historica-Dominion Institute. “The Memory Project Speakers Bureau”. Last modified n.d. Accessed February 1 2013. https://www.historica-dominion.ca/content/ programs/memory-project-speakers-bureau

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Hollingsworth, Michael. The History of the Village of the Small Huts. Winnipeg: Blizzard Publishing, 1994. Jackson, Sabine. Robertson Davies and the Quest for a Canadian National Identity. New York: Peter Lang, 2006. Kerr, Kevin. Unity (1918). Vancouver: Talonbooks, 2002. Lill, Wendy. The Fighting Days. Vancouver: Talonbooks, 1985. Lucking, David. Myth and Identity: Essays on Canadian Literature. Lecce: Edizioni Milella, 1995. Mackey, Eva. “‘Death by Landscape’ Race, Nature, and Gender in Canadian Nationalist Mythology”. Canadian Women’s Studies 20, no. 2 (2000): 125–130. Major, Kevin. No Man’s Land. Pennywell: St John’s, 2005. Major, Kevin. No Man’s Land: A Novel. Toronto: Doubleday Canada, 1996. Massicotte, Stephen. Mary’s Wedding. Toronto: Playwrights Canada Press, 2002. Massicotte, Stephen. The Oxford Roof Climber’s Rebellion. Toronto: Playwrights Canada Press, 2007. Opp, James and John C. Walsh, eds., Home Work & Play: Situating Canadian Social ­History. Don Mills: Oxford University Press, 2010. Pollock, Sharon. The Komagata Maru Incident. Toronto: Playwrights Co-op 1978. Rebick, Judy. Ten Thousand Roses: The Making of a Feminist Revolution. Toronto: Penguin Canada, 2005. Rossi, Vittorio. Hellfire Pass. Vancouver: Talonbooks, 2007. Rubin, Don. Creeping Towards a Culture. Guelph: Alive Press, 1974. Sherry, Michael. “Probing the Memory of War: The Vitality of Military History”. The Chronicle of Higher Education 46, no. 18 (2000): B4. Stechyson, Natalie. “Battle of Vimy Ridge marked Canada’s birth of a nation, says G-G on 95th anniversary of battle”. National Post, April 9, 2012. Accessed November 1, 2015. http://news.nationalpost.com/2012/04/09/vimy-ridge-marked-canadas -birth-as-a-nation-g-g-says-on-95th-aniversary-of-battle/. Thiessen, Vern. Vimy. Toronto: Playwrights Canada Press, 2008. Thomson, R.H. The Lost Boys. Toronto: Playwrights Canada Press, 2002. Van Baaren, Theodoor P. “The Flexibility of Myth”. In Sacred Narrative: Readings in the Theory of Myth, edited by Alan Dundes, 217–243. Berkley: University of California Press, 1984. Van Luven, Marlene A. D. “Charting the Territory: A Study of Feminism in EnglishCanadian Drama from 1967 to 1991”. PhD diss., University of Alberta, 1991. Vanderhaeghe, Guy. Dancock’s Dance. Winnipeg: Blizzard Publishing, 1996. Veterans Affairs Canada. “Tomb of the Unknown Soldier”. Last modified December 18, 2012. Accessed March 15, 2013. https://www.veterans.gc.ca/eng/memorials/tomb. Wagner, Vit. “Blyth adds new sparkles to Canadian gem”. The Toronto Star June 28, 1997.

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Wallace, Robert. Staging a Nation: Evolutions in Contemporary Canadian Theatre. London: Canadian High Commission, Canada House, 2002. Wallace, Robert and Cynthia Zimmerman. The Work: Conversations with English-­ Canadian Playwrights. Toronto: Coach House Press, 1982. Wayland, Sarah. “Immigration, Multiculturalism and National Identity in Canada”. ­International Journal on Group Rights 5 (1997): 33–58. Zimmerman, Cynthia. Playwriting Women: Female Voice in English Canada. Toronto: Simon & Pierre, 1994.

Contributors Marcel Berni is a research associate and Ph.D. student at the Chair of Strategic Studies at the Military Academy at ETH Zurich. His research interest focuses on violence, comparative military history and guerilla warfare in the 20th century. Timothy J. Demy Th.D., Ph.D. is Professor of Military Ethics at the U.S. Naval College, Newport, R.I. He holds graduate degrees from Dallas Theological Seminary (ThM, ThD), Salve Regina University (MA, PhD), the U.S. Naval War College (MA), and the University of Cambridge (MSt). He is the author and editor of numerous journal articles and books on ethics, theology, religion, and security. His research interests include the humanities and war, naval and maritime history, and war poetry. Among his publications are: War, Peace, and Christianity: Questions and Answers from a Just-War Perspective; Military Ethics and Emerging Technologies; Naval Leadership Ethics; and Silent Night, Silent Guns: The 1914 Christmas Truce. He is book review editor for the Naval War College Review and served as American managing editor of the international Journal of Military Ethics. Andreas Golob studied history as a major and art history as a minor at the Universities of Graz and Sussex. In 2005 he earned his PhD in history at Graz University with an analysis of book advertisements in Graz newspapers around 1800. Since this year he has served as a researcher at Graz University Archives, at the local Department of History and in the transdisciplinary doctoral program Sammeln, Ordnen und Vermitteln: Wissenskulturen im 18. Jahrhundert (Collecting, Classifying, Communicating: Cultures of Knowledge in the 18th Century). In 2007 he became the contact person for personal archives and in 2013 he was appointed assistant director of the University Archives. His main fields of interest include but are not limited to media history (with a focus on the popularization of knowledge), the social history of medicine and the socio-cultural history of science/scholarship, universities and education from the 18th to the 20th century. Maciej Górny is professor in the Tadeusz Manteuffel Institute of History of the Polish Academy of Sciences in Warsaw and in the German Historical Institute Warsaw. He specializes in history of historiography and East Central European history of the 19th and 20th centuries. His publications include The Nation Should Come

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First: Marxism and Historiography in East Central Europe, Frankfurt am Main 2013 (Polish 2007, German 2011), Wielka Wojna profesorów. Nauki o człowieku (1912–1923), Warszawa 2014 (Russian and English editions forthcoming). Frank Jacob is Professor of Global History at Nord University, Norway. He received his PhD from Erlangen University and held positions at Würzburg University and the City University of New York. Jacob authored and edited more than 40 books and his main research foci are Modern Japanese History, Military History, and Transnational Radicalism. Michael J. Pfeifer is Professor of History at John Jay College of Criminal Justice and the CUNY Graduate Center. He is the author or editor of five books, including Rough Justice: Lynching and American Society, 1874–1947 (University of Illinois Press, 2004) and The Roots of Rough Justice: Origins of American Lynching (University of Illinois Press, 2011). He has also published numerous articles in journals that include The Journal of American History and Louisiana History. In 2014 he served as Fulbrightprofessor at Erfurt University in Germany. Jeffrey Shaw is a professor of Strategy and Policy in the College of Distance Education at the US Naval War College, and an adjunct professor of Humanities at Salve Regina University in Newport, RI. Lindsay Thistle is a Course Instructor in Canadian Studies and Culture Studies at Wilfrid Laurier University and Trent University. Lindsay holds a PhD from York University’s Graduate Program in Theatre and Performance Studies. She recently completed a postdoctoral fellowship through the International Council for Canadian Studies at the University of Silesia in Poland. Lindsay’s research focuses broadly on the dramatization of Canadian history with a particular interest in plays about war. She is currently working on a book project addressing Canadian plays about the “War on Terror”. Allison Wanger was a Visiting Assistant Professor in the American Studies Program at Miami University for the 2016–2017 academic year. She earned her PhD in American Studies from The University of Iowa in 2015. Her research considers how diverse Americans define and understand their individual, national, and t­ ransnational

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identities through mourning and memorialization. Emerging from Allison’s broader interest in memory and violence, her current work considers how diverse Americans define and understand their individual, national, and transnational identities through funerary traditions. To explore this phenomenon, her dissertation, “These Honored Dead”: The National Cemetery System and the Politics of Cultural Memory since 1861, provides a history of the cultural, social, military, and political impetuses behind the federal government’s interest in caring for America’s war and military dead. More broadly, her research and teaching specialities include 19th and 20th century American cultural history; American Studies; public memory; critical theory; human and political geography; American visual culture; death and dying; Nationalism Studies; and Trauma and Violence Studies. Before attending Iowa, she earned a BA (2004) and MA (2009) in American Studies from California State University, Fullerton. She previously served as a visual archive intern at the Smithsonian’s Center for Folklife and Cultural Heritage (Summer, 2007) and an editorial assistant at American Quarterly (Spring, 2008).

Index Aisne-Marne 119, 120, 128 Akçura, Yusuf 30 American Battle Monuments Commission  107, 108, 117, 118, 120, 122, 125, 129, 130, 131, 142, 145 American cemeteries in France 116, 119, 125 American Cemetery’s memorial chapel 128 American Field of Honor Organization 110 American Institute of Architects 120, 124 American Legion 130, 137 American Society of Illustrators 9 anti-Jewish sentiments 69 anti-Occidental Pan-Slavism 28 “archenemy” 59 Arlington Memorial Amphitheater 136 Arlington National Cemetery 135, 140, 144 Armistice Day 136 Asia 26, 27, 28, 34, 35, 43 Asiatic barbarity 28 Austria 24, 25, 28, 29, 32, 39, 53, 54, 62, 63, 64, 70, 72, 74, 76, 81, 147, 148, 150, 152, 156 Austria-Hungary v, 14, 22, 30, 41, 42, 46, 50, 53, 61, 70, 76 Bacon, Francis 69, 70, 76 Baczyński, Stanisław 37 Baker, Newton D. 108, 141 Balkan Wars 31, 48, 71, 73 Balkans 2, 23, 27, 33, 34, 35, 45, 46, 47, 55, 71, 72, 74, 80, 179 Barker, Ernest 25 Barkley, Archibald H. 122 Barwiński, Aleksander 42 Battle of Vimy Ridge 162, 185, 187 Bebel, August 3 Belgium 11, 12, 63, 107, 115, 116, 117, 118, 125 Belić, Aleksandar 35 bellum iustum 11 Beneš, Edvard 29 Bergson, Henri 21 Berlin 6, 30, 36, 152 Berlin University 27 Bern 30 Besser, Salomon 22

Billy Bishop 163, 164, 165, 166, 167, 183, 185, 186 Bobrzyński, Michał 36 Bohemia 23, 26, 30, 46, 47, 63 Bolsheviks 28, 29 Bolshevism 28, 29 Bonjour, Edgar 92, 93, 96 Borowski, Felix 155 Bosnia and Hercegovina 71, 72, 75 Boston Symphony 147, 152, 154, 155, 156 Bourne, Randolph 6 Bovet, Ernest 63 Brent, Charles Henry 110, 115 British imperialism 68 Brückner, Aleksander 27, 29, 41, 46 Bukovina 41 Bulgaria 23, 25, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 46, 49 Canada v, 15, 150, 161, 162, 163, 164, 165, 166, 167, 168, 169, 170, 171, 172, 173, 174, 175, 176, 177, 179, 180, 181, 182, 183, 184, 185, 186, 187, 188 Canadian plays about World War I 161, 163, 167, 183 Canadian theater 15, 161, 166, 167, 168, 170, 175, 182, 184, 185, 188 Čapek, Thomas 25 Carlson, Eric 140 Carnegie Report 31 Carpenter, Elbert L. 150, 157 Cehelski, Lonhyn 43 Cemeteries Clauses Act 118 Central Powers 25, 26, 30, 31, 42 Château Thierry 105, 107, 124 Chołoniewski, Antoni 37 Ciemniewski, Jan 38, 39 Cincinnati Symphony 147, 154 Cisleithania 24, 30 Clarkson, Adrienne 181 Cold War 92, 94, 96, 99, 101 Colfescu Delaturda, Ion 25 Committee on Public Information 8, 16, 153 Congress Poland 30 Conrad, Joseph 10

194 Cooper, Frederick G. 9 Copenhagen 30 Creel, George 8, 9 Cret, Paul Philippe 123 Cromwell, Oliver 66, 69 Cummings, Edward E. 12 Cvijić, Jovan 33, 34, 35 Dalmatia 60, 72, 73 Danz, Franz 148, 149 Darmstadt 148, 152 Debs, Eugene V. 3 Dehio, Georg 59 “Democratic” International Memorial Aesthetic 120 Deutschlandlied 62 Dewey, John 13 Die Meistersinger 149 Division of Pictorial Publicity 9 Doncov, Dmytro 26, 27, 29 Dos Passos, John 12 DuBois, Pierre 95 Du Bois, William E. B. 134 Durkheim, Émile 21, 62 Eastern Europe 14, 24, 26, 29, 31, 35, 36, 43, 45, 46, 48 Eastern Galicia 41 École des Beaux-Arts 123, 126 Edward VII, 67 Eichler, Albert 57, 58, 64, 65, 66, 67, 68, 69, 70, 76, 77, 78, 79, 80 Eisner, Kurt 3 England 12, 21, 24, 40, 59, 64, 66, 67, 69, 70, 107, 132, 135, 164, 171, 172 English gentleman 65 English studies 53, 57, 58, 64, 65, 69, 70 “ethnopsychology” 61, 62 Executive Order No. 2594 8 Falls, Charles Buckles 9 Fancher, Louis 9 Faulkner, Barry 126 First World War v, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 10, 11, 13, 14, 15, 53, 55, 56, 57, 58, 86, 87, 91, 92, 93, 94, 95, 96, 97, 98, 99, 100, 101 folksongs 71, 72, 73, 74 Ford, Guy Stanton 9 Fort Mont-Valérien 119, 126

Index France 3, 11, 12, 21, 22, 40, 54, 63, 90, 98, 105, 107, 112, 115, 116, 117, 118, 119, 125, 128, 132, 134, 135, 151 freedom of learning 75 Freedom of research, teaching and learning 75 French government 114, 115, 116, 119, 120, 130, 132 French Revolution 25 Fuhrer, Hans Rudolf 97 funerary landscapes 107, 108, 120, 125, 130, 131, 135, 140, 141 Gabrys-Paršaitis, Juozas 30 Galsworthy, John 68 Garrigue Masaryk, Tomáš 29 Gautschi, Willi 92, 94, 95 Gawler, Alfred Benjamin 110 Geering, Traugott 87 general strike 85, 88, 91, 92, 93, 94, 95, 97, 100 Geniusz, Mieczysław 40 geography 53, 58, 65, 105, 107, 119, 120, 121, 124, 191 George IV, 67 German Americans 149, 153 German imperialism 62 German militarism 21, 62 German spirituality 28 German symphonic musicians 151 German war guilt 62 German-national press 56 Germany 3, 4, 8, 11, 22, 24, 25, 28, 29, 30, 32, 35, 36, 42, 45, 46, 59, 62, 70, 85, 89, 90, 91, 96, 98, 107, 109, 116, 154 Gibson, Charles Dana 9 Głąbiński, Stanisław 41, 42 Goldman, Emma 3 Goldmark, Karl 155 Gold Star Mothers 132 Gompers, Samuel 110 Górski, Artur 38 Graves Registration Service 108 Graz v, 14, 53, 54, 55, 57, 58, 59, 64, 65, 69, 70, 71, 74, 76, 77, 78 Graz University 57, 60, 61, 79, 84, 197 Great Britain 8, 22, 54, 65, 69, 98, 151 Greece 31 Guttry, Aleksander 36, 48

195

Index Habsburg Galicia 36 Habsburg monarchy 41, 53, 54, 61, 62, 71, 78 Hamline University 13 Harding, Samuel B. 9 Hauptmann, Gerhart 21 Hayes, Ralph 107, 113, 141 Hedges, Chris 128 Hemingway, Ernest 12 Heroic Duell ( Junačni Mejdan) in South Slav Folk Poetry 75 heroic songs 73, 74 heroism 5, 7, 34, 60, 68, 73, 74, 165, 181 Herrick, Louis 14 High Command of the Army 75 historiographic tradition 43, 44 Historiographical Turns 96, 181 Hobsbawm, Eric 2 Howe, George 128 Hrushevskyi, Mykhailo 42, 43 Hunter Austin, Mary 5 Hurley, Patrick 140 Hushka, William 140 Imperial War Graves Commission 113 Indiana University 9 intellectual elite 21, 72 intellectual warfare 70 interwar national cemetery system 105 “irredento” 60 Isaac, Jules 2 Ishirkov, Anastas 33 Italian front 65, 78 Italian studies 53 Italy 59, 60, 61, 85, 136, 185 Jankowski, Czesław 33, 34, 48 Jaun, Rudolf 97, 100 Jaurès, Jean 3 Jefferson, Thomas 119 Jewish soldiers 131 Jost, Hans-Ulrich 95, 96 Julliard School 149 “Kaisermanöver” 89, 96, 98 Kerfoot, Samuel F. 14 Kesküla, Aleksander 29 Kingdom of Poland 24, 25, 36 Kiprov, Alexander 32 Kochanowski, Karol 29, 38, 40

Kuhn, Konrad J. 88, 97, 100, 101 Kunwald, Ernst 147, 154 Kushnir, Vladimir 43 Kurnatowski, Jerzy 25 Kwilecki, Franciszek (Franz) 27 Land and Industrial Department of Chicago 5 Lechia 41 Lippmann, Walter 8 linguistics 53, 56, 57, 60, 64 literary studies 53, 54 London Necropolis Company 118 Lozynskyi, Mykhailo 44 Luciri, Pierre 94 Lutosławski, Wincenty 38, 39, 40 Luxembourg 150 MacArthur, Douglas 140 Macedonia 32 Maissen, Thomas 98, 99 Mann, Thomas 21 March, Peyton C. 106 Massey Report 162 medieval iconography 128 Mercantilism 67 Meringer, Rudolf 57 Meuse-Argonne 119 Mexico City 107 Military Academy at eth Zurich 97 military science 75 military service 14, 77, 78, 88 Minneapolis Symphony v, 15, 147, 148, 149, 150, 151, 154, 155, 156, 157, 158 Minneapolis Tribune 154, 156 Minnesota 9, 13, 14, 147, 148, 149, 153, 154 Minnesota Commission of Public Safety 153 Minnesota River Valley 153 modern languages 54 Mommsen, Wolfgang J. 7, 21 Mostar 73 Muck, Karl 147, 152, 154, 156 Multiculturalism Act 170 Munich 147, 149, 150, 157 Muscovites 28, 39, 41, 42, 43 Nahtigal, Rajko 57, 76, 77, 78 Napoleon I 119 National Cemetary System 15

196 National Commission on Military Sepulchers 114 National Council of Defense 153 “national education” 55 National Funeral Directors’ Association 110 National Sculpture Society 124 nationalism v, 6, 26, 70, 73, 75, 105, 107, 111, 135, 137, 142, 173, 191 New York City 148, 149 New York Times 12, 135 Nietzsche, Friedrich 25 No Man’s Land 176, 177, 178, 179, 180, 184 Normans 66 North Dakota 153 North Star State 153 Novaković, Stojan 35 Oberhoffer, Emil 147, 148, 149, 150, 151, 152, 154, 155, 156, 157, 158 Oberhummer, Eugen 28 Ochsenbein, Heinz 94 Oise-Aisne 119 “Olympic Spring” 90 Orchestral Union 148 Orthodox Christianity 28 Orthodox faith 27 Ottawa’s Great Canadian Theatre Company 175, 176 overseas American cemeteries 105 Palmer Raids 7 Parandowski, Jan 29 Para pacem 74 Paris 30, 35, 98, 99, 112, 119, 126, 150 patriotism 8, 9, 13, 24, 33, 69, 71, 77, 95, 138, 152, 154, 156, 158, 179 Pershing, John J. 12, 105, 106, 108, 122 philological studies 75 Pittsburgh’s Bring Home the Dead League 109 Polish Sovietology 28 political history 45, 174 “politics by means of language” 62 Przewóska, Maria Czesława 39 Pro Lithuania 30 propaganda 5, 7, 8, 9, 22, 23, 24, 30, 31, 32, 40, 45, 53, 70, 74, 134 Prussia 21, 26, 33, 34, 41, 77, 151, 152, 154 Przybyszewski, Stanisław 26, 27, 35, 36

Index Quartermaster Corps 108, 109 Quartermaster Corps’ (qmc) Burial Department 109 Quartermaster General 117 Quiet in the Land 167, 169, 171, 172, 173, 174, 175 Ramovš, Fran(z) 57, 78, 79 Rapold, Hans 97 Rasiński, Faustyn 25, 26 Reuterdahl, Henry 9 Rheinberger, Josef 149 Rhineland 149 Rollett, Alexander 55, 82 Romance linguistics 60 Romance studies 55, 56, 59, 61, 62, 63 Romanesque architecture 128 Roosevelt, Quentin 105, 106, 109, 111 Roosevelt, Theodore 105 Rossfeld, Roman 97, 98 Royal Flying Corps 163 Ruchti, Jacob 87, 88, 89, 91, 93, 94, 95, 96, 100 Russia 2, 7, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 31, 34, 36, 40, 41, 42, 43, 45, 62, 71, 107, 116, 152, 183 Russian imperialism 27 Russian Messianism 28 Russian Revolution 2, 7, 45, 183 Russification 27 Russo-Japanese War 3, 73 Russophilia 42 Rzymowski, Wincenty 24 Samson and Delilah 149 Sarajevo 73 Schmidt, Wacław 41 Schoen-René, Anna E. 149 Schuchardt, Hugo 56, 58, 59, 60, 61, 62, 63, 64, 66, 70, 79 Second World War 3, 5, 57, 69, 79, 86, 94, 100 Secretary of War 107, 108, 117, 122, 140, 141 Serbia 21, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 70, 71, 73, 75 Service Général des Pensions 114 Shakespeare, William 65, 66, 69 Slavonic philology 56 Slavonic studies 53, 54, 55, 56, 58, 70, 78 Slovakia 63 Snedden, David 8

197

Index Somme 119, 124, 128, 129, 132, 176, 184 South-Slavic linguistics and literature 57 Spitteler, Carl 89, 90, 91, 92, 93, 95, 103 sports 55, 67 Star of David headstones 131 Štefánik, Milan Rastislav 29 stereotypes 9, 32, 38, 40, 61, 71, 79 stereotypes of other nations 61 St. Mihiel 119 Stockholm 30 Strauss, Richard 150, 158 Strausz, Adolf 32, 50 Straumann, Tobias 98 Student Army Training Coprs 13 student tumults 55 Styria 55, 65 Suresnes 119, 123, 124, 126, 127 Suresnes American Cemetery 119, 123, 124, 126, 127 Swiss history 86, 92, 93, 94, 95, 96, 97, 98, 99, 100 Swiss National Science Foundation 86 Swiss neutrality 89, 91, 92, 93, 96 Switzerland v, 15, 61, 85, 86, 87, 88, 89, 90, 91, 92, 93, 94, 95, 96, 97, 98, 99, 100, 101 Szelągowski, Adam 25, 50 Taft, Howard 110 Tallgren, Johannes 63 The Lost Boys 175, 177, 178, 180, 184 Theodore Thomas Orchestra 149 “The Professors’ War” 64 “The Star-Spangled Banner” 148, 154, 155, 156, 158 Thomas, Ambroise 155 Tomb of the Unknown Soldier 139, 181 Treaty of Versailles 114 Treitschke, Heinrich von 25 Ukraine 29, 42, 43, 44 Ukrainian integral nationalism 26 Union for the Liberation of Ukraine 29

United States 3, 5, 11, 13, 106, 115, 121, 131, 134, 136, 147, 148, 149, 150, 151, 158, 159, 164 “universal enemy” 59 University of Graz v, 14, 53 University of Minnesota 9, 154 University of Pennsylvania 123, 124 University of Pittsburgh 13 university-extension movement 64 U.S. State Department 115 veteran 108, 109, 111, 112, 121, 122, 124, 135, 138, 140, 141, 142, 155, 162, 176, 177 Vienna 27, 30, 69, 73 Viennese Imperial Academy of Sciences 71, 76 Wagner, Richard 148, 149, 151, 155 Wakar, Włodzimierz 44 Walcott, Gregory 14 War Department 106, 107, 108, 109, 113, 117, 119, 125, 130, 131, 135, 136, 138, 139, 141 War Memorial Council 130 Warner, Everett L. 7 Wasilewski, Leon 44 Wasilewski, Zygmunt 40 Waugh, Frederick 7 Weber, Carl Maria von 155 Wells, Herbert G. 65, 67, 68 Wildhack, Robert J. 9 Wilhem ii 89 Williams, Charles David 9 Wilson, Woodrow 8, 105, 153 Wörter und Sachen 57 Workers of the World 6 Young Women’s Christian Association 6 Yugoslav Committee 29, 30, 35 Zala, Sacha 99 Zauner, Adolf 56, 58, 76, 78 Zeitschrift für das Realschulwesen 64 Ziegler, Béatrice 88, 97, 100, 101