Claiming Overseas Czechs for the Nation by Michael Whitaker Dean A
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“What the Heart Unites, the Sea Shall Not Divide”: Claiming Overseas Czechs for the Nation By Michael Whitaker Dean A dissertation submitted in partial satisfaction of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy in History in the Graduate Division of the University of California, Berkeley Committee in charge: Professor John Connelly, Chair Professor David Henkin Professor David Frick Spring 2014 “What the Heart Unites, the Sea Shall not Divide”: Claiming Overseas Czechs for the Nation Copyright © 2014 By Michael Whitaker Dean Abstract “What the Heart Unites, the Sea Shall not Divide”: Claiming Overseas Czechs for the Nation by Michael Whitaker Dean Doctor of Philosophy in History University of California, Berkeley Professor John Connelly, Chair This is a study of nation-building, liberal politics, and overseas migration among a small people in a supranational empire. By 1914 around one million Czechs (from a nation of six million) permanently resided outside the Bohemian Lands. About half of these expatriates settled in the United States. In feuilletons, travel narratives, brochures, works of scholarship, theatrical plays, popular fiction, and above all in journalism, patriotic Czechs grappled with the question of mass emigration. What did it mean for the existence of a small people in a supranational empire that one of every six co-nationals lived outside the homeland? When confronting this question, leaders of the Czech national movement reacted with ambivalence. As self-proclaimed liberals they lacked a language with which to oppose the free movement of labor. But as nationalists they worried over the loss of Czech hands and hearts. Ambivalence was at the core of the emigration question; a discourse that developed from an appeal to the emigrant’s sense of patriotism to a systematic critique of the Habsburg state and the call for State Rights. This dissertation examines the first decades of mass labor migration from Bohemia and the emergence of the Czech national movement between 1848 and 1873. It argues that Czech liberals adapted a vocabulary of European expansion in order to justify their claim to State Rights within the Habsburg Empire and their leadership role within the national movement. Mass emigration made this possible; the presence of co-nationals in distant lands enabled national leaders to portray their nation as a carrier of civilization to backward parts of the world. By the period’s end this project of overseas nation-building had adopted ethnic, even racial overtones. The image of Czech national expansion (a surprising formulation for a stateless and landlocked people) was projected as far afield as the American West and the Russian Far East, and national activists worked to transform Bohemian emigrants into Czech colonists. 1 I dedicate this work to my wife, Frederike, for her patience and care. Without that, everything would have been impossible. Thank you. i Contents Acknowledgements iii Introduction v 1. Why Emigration Mattered 1 Three Lessons 1 Neoabsolutism and the Transformation of Czech Society 3 The Onset of Mass Emigration 12 Emigrants, Agents, and the State 19 2. The Emigrant Narrative: Patriotic Society and the Meaning of Mass Migration 25 Across the Ocean and Back 25 Making Migration Meaningful 31 From Fiction to Fact 34 3. Kolonisace: Visions of Collective Settlement 44 The Colonial Lexicon 45 Internal Colonization 48 The Iowa Conspiracy, or, Czech-Loyal Emigration 55 “Each Flocks to its Own.” 62 4. “For Our Slavonic Future”: How Czechs Did Not Colonize the Amur 74 Geographical Visions 76 A Fate that Swallows Individuals, Families, Even Nations 80 Dream of the Amur 86 5. California in the Caucasus: On the Czech Civilizing Mission 91 The (Mass) Politics of Mass Emigration 93 A Pilgrimage to Moscow 99 California in the Caucasus 108 Conclusion 123 Bibliography 127 Appendices 132 Tables 132 Figures 134 ii Acknowledgements I typed the first words of this dissertation not long after the birth of my daughter, Greta. Now she is two and a half years old—and one last keystroke sends the completed manuscript off to ProQuest. These last few years have been a time of profound change in my life, a period during which it has been impossible to separate academics from family life and friendship. I would like to take this opportunity to express my gratitude to colleagues, friends, and loved ones who provided advice and companionship along the way. My first debt of gratitude belongs to the members of my dissertation committee, each of whom has provided valuable guidance during my time at Berkeley. David Frick has shared with me his broad knowledge of Slavic languages, literature, and philology. The dexterity with which he extracts evidence from even the most reluctant of texts inspires me. David Henkin taught the first seminar that I attended in graduate school. From that first meeting on, he has been a model seminar leader and lecturer as well as an outstanding mentor whose comments are unfailingly insightful and relevant. One could not ask for a better Doktorvater than John Connelly, a scholar who combines brilliance with honesty and humility in a way that I strive to emulate. Among other things, he has taught me that to be a historian means to be a writer, that writing is about patience and discipline, and, most important, that one must have faith that what is written today can be improved upon tomorrow. Two scholars who supported this project at an earlier stage are no longer with us. I wish to remember them here. Susanna Barrows, the historian of French society and culture, provided guidance during my first years of graduate school. I will always draw inspiration from her words of encouragement, her enthusiasm, and authenticity. Jon Gjerde introduced me to the study of transatlantic migration and led me to a research agenda that will shape my work for years to come. He was a leader of his field and a very kind man. I miss them both. I cannot adequately express my gratitude for the companionship of my closest colleagues and friends. In seminar rooms and barrooms, during nights out and research trips abroad, these people have made me a better scholar and a better human being: Jakub Beneš, Sarah Cramsey, Joe Duong, Will Jenkins, and Mark Keck-Szajbel. My friendship with Rita Safariants and John Sunwoo has never ceased to be a source of inspiration, in spite of distance and periods of silence. I hope they know that. The Social Sciences Research Council funded a year of dissertation research in Prague in 2009. During my stay, I benefited from the support of the Ethnological Institute at Charles University. I thank Leoš Šatava in particular for inviting me to attend his seminar and for offering words of advice. Martin C. Putna provided stimulating conversation during my stay and helped me at a crucial moment. Much of the research for this dissertation took place at the library of the Náprstek Museum in Prague. I thank Milena Secká and the librarians and archivists of that wonderful museum. A year of writing was supported by the U.C. Berkeley Department of History and the American Council of Learned Societies Program in East European Studies. Long before I began work on this dissertation, I fell in love with the Czech language. The present study can be understood as a token of that affection. I owe a tremendous debt of gratitude to everyone who has guided me along the many rendezvous I enjoyed with this beautiful language. My best teachers have been teachers of Czech: Jaroslava Soldanová at the University iii of Washington and Zdeňka Řeháková at the Institute of Language and Preparatory Studies in Prague. I am told that those who submit their final paperwork to U.C. Berkeley’s Graduate Division receive a lollipop in recognition of their hard work. I’ll find out soon enough if this is true. If so, then the lollipop will go to my daughter. This dissertation, however, I dedicate with to my wife—to Frieda. iv Introduction “A nation that cultivates the field is never inclined to migrate and wander, unlike those others who chase game in the forest or live from cattle for which they must always be on the search for new pastures.” Jakub Malý, Prostonárodní dějepis české země Nationalism is an elemental force. This sentence may ring old-fashioned at a time when historians feel compelled to cross borders, pitch themselves as transnational or global scholars, and to move “beyond the study of nationalism.”1 Nonetheless, this sentence marks the present work’s starting point. Languages of belonging represent singularly powerful tools for mobilizing hearts and hands, able to rally large numbers of people in a way that appeals to individual interests or universal values cannot. Among the languages of belonging, nationalism has proven especially potent. The trick is to translate the elemental force unleashed by nationalism into political power. How to take popular energies and shape them into a national program? How to institutionalize shared passions and thereby transform a multitude into a people? “Has anyone ever asked what it means, for a group, to exist?” asked the sociologist Pierre Bourdieu. He immediately supplied his own answer: “Belonging to a group is something you build up, negotiate and bargain over, and play for.”2 This dissertation is about making groups, about the negotiation and play—and hard work—that goes into forming a nation. Historians have demonstrated a special capacity to lend form to the raw strength of nationalism. The narratives they produce tell of change over time, but they also speak of endurance. Indeed, stories of change are often modes of highlighting that which remains constant. In many historical narratives, that which endures is the nation.