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Crtice o prvom svetskom ratu


SeljačkaSreća

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Moze biti da je i Srbiji potrebna debata da nije jednog malog problema: svaka debata danas, a na temu odgovornosti za izbijanje WW1 je poziv na reinterpretaciju i reviziju istorije i to samo u jednom pravcu - skidanju odgovornosti sa Nemacke i Austrougarske.

Naravno da ne postoje nedodirljive teme: ali samo pominjanje odgovornosti velikih je vec razvodnjavanje i revizija.

Nemacka i Austrougarska su odgovorne za izbijanje WW1; tek posle priznavanja te cinjenice moze se dalje i o odgovornostima drugih.

Ovako, sa stavom 'svi smo pomalo krivi, omaklo nam se', nece nikako da valja: neko je, a znamo i ko, ipak kriv malo vise, a Srbija izistinski nema razloga da se, kad je WW1 u pitanju, podmece i gura u prve redove preispitivaca.

 

Ne bih se slozio - svako ko je u to vreme sluzio militantnom nacionalizmu i imperijalizmu jeste bio odgovoran jer je to glavni uzrok rata.

 

Pod 1 - nije SF, pokreću se te teme od strane srpskih istoričara. Pod 2 - jeste bitno, ali - nama, zbog nas. A ako se upliće u odgovornost za izbijanje WWI, to onda izgleda ko u onom vicu kad igraju fudbal slonovi i miševi, pa se na kraju slon izvinjava ako su malo grublje igrali, a miš kaže - pa dobro i mi smo krljali. 

 

Pokrecu se mozda pitanja ali ne i debata, bar ne od znacaja.

Drugo, mozda je bilo nekoliko slonova ali i citav copor vukova.

 

Fišer je bio u pravu i zato je bio potreban i nemačkoj ali i svetskoj istoriografiji. Ako pak Zundhauzen smatra da Fišer nije bio u pravu a da je, iz ovog ili onog razloga, dobro promovisati nešto što ne predstavlja istinu, onda dotični i nije istoričar već politikantska gnjida.

Zamena teza je potpuno fantastična - određeni istorijski problem je razrešen: Fric Fišer je nedvosmisleno utvrdio da je za rat odgovorna nemačka politička i privredna elita, i to je, po Zundhauzenu dobro za Nemačku, ali, za Srbiju bi bilo dobro da ima nekog svog Fišera, koji bi sad trebao da utvrdi nešto potpuno suprotno od onoga što je uradio Fišer.

Reklo bi se - Jebo lud zbunjenog, ali niko ovde nije ni lud ni zbunjen... Zundhauzen je jednostavno pokvaren.

 

Fiser je dobar zbog debate i utvrdjivanja odgovornosti koja opet ne skida i odgovornost sa drugih. Zato Zundhauzen i govori o tome da je ubistvo bilo samo povod ali takvi povodi se ne desavaju svaki dan i niko ne moze da kaze da bi doslo bas do takve katastrofe da ga nije bilo.

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Ne bih se slozio - svako ko je u to vreme sluzio militantnom nacionalizmu i imperijalizmu jeste bio odgovoran jer je to glavni uzrok rata.

Vidi ovako: nista lakse nego natovariti Srbiji sta god kome padne na pamet, zasluzeno ili ne - mogu da progutam.

Zasluzila je, zaduzila se, narocito tokom 90-ih, itd, itd, spisak je beskonacan, svakim danom se dopunjava, za utehu je sto Srbija placa i placace punu cenu...

Ali, svrstati Srbiju uoci izbijanja i tokom WW1 u sluzioce militantnom nacionalizmu i imperijalizmu najblaze receno nije fer, obaska sto je i istorijiski netacno.

U predigri velikih sila za koju su i cuveni vrapci na grani znali da vodi u sranje, u kojoj su neke ot tih sila, one nesporno najodgovornije, planirale rat, Srbiju su bukvalno vrebali, cekali je na zicer.

Nije fer, jebi ga, i to bez ikakve sentimentalnosti i patetike, solunasenja i ostalih pratecih pojava.

Nije danas popularno pozivati se na Lenjina, ali njegova konstatacija da jedina Srbija od svih zemalja tog leta 1914. vodi opravdani, odbrambeni rat je itekako na mestu i trebalo bi je cesce citirati; radi se o coveku koji je poprilicno dobro razumeo i objasnio dogadjanja koja su do izbijanja rata dovela.

Napadnuta, i to pored do ekstrema demonstrirane dobre volje da popusti i izadje u susret svim zahtevima - KuK burgijanja sa ultimatumom Srbiji spadaju u najnecasnije diplomatske rabote u modernoj diplomatskoj istoriji - Srbija je bila dovedena u situaciju da se ne samo brani vec bori bukvalno za goli zivot, opstanak, napadnuta od neuporedivo nadmocnijeg neprijatelja koji joj je upao u zemlju, izvrsio invaziju.

Dodeliti joj punu meru odgovornosti kao i ostalim akterima izbijanja WW1 je revizionizam najgore vrste.

 

Fiser je dobar zbog debate i utvrdjivanja odgovornosti koja opet ne skida i odgovornost sa drugih. Zato Zundhauzen i govori o tome da je ubistvo bilo samo povod ali takvi povodi se ne desavaju svaki dan i niko ne moze da kaze da bi doslo bas do takve katastrofe da ga nije bilo.

 

 

Ovo sa povodima koji se ne desavaju svaki dan je, da izvines, budalastina.

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Ne bih se slozio - svako ko je u to vreme sluzio militantnom nacionalizmu i imperijalizmu jeste bio odgovoran jer je to glavni uzrok rata.

 

Zapravo ovo je ono osnovno gde ti ne razumes Fischera. Sto nije cudno, ali ne zato sto, eto, ne mozes da ga razumes, nego zato sto ne poznajes metod nastanka znanja te vrste Ali ga zato Zundhauzen odlicno razume, te ga zato i secira mesajuci babe i zabe, i to, stopostotno sam siguran, namerno, jer on je covek od zanata, tu nema nikakve diskusije. Nacionalizam u Srbiji u to doba postoji, tu nema dvojbe. Njegova uloga u procesu konstrukcije midjunarodnih odnosa koji dovode do izbijanja rata je skoro pa nikakva. On nema nista sa Bagdadskom zeleznicom, on nema nista sa Cing-Taoom i Port-Arturom, on nema nista sa Tirpicevim planovima, on nema nista sa pitanjima Moreuza, on nema nista sa Marokom, ona samo ima nesto sa Bosnom, i to u na kraju perioda tokom kojeg, evo da se izrazim savremeno, Austro-Ugarska svesrdno krsi ljudska i manjinska prava srpskog stanovnistva u Bosni i Hercegovini, svesno, namerno, sa ciljem ekonomske, kulturne i politicke marginalizacije jedne etnicke grupe. Bosnu nije okupirala (ajd to jos i u skladu sa tadasnji medjunarodnim pravom), pa onda totalno nepravno prisajedinila Srbija, nego Austro-Ugarska. Srbija nije ni na koji nacin narusila medjunarodno-pravnim poredak na jugoistoku pre nego su ga narusili prvo Austro-Ugarska, pa Bugarska, pa Grcka, pa Albanci, i na kraju Italija. Srbija nije htela rat u Bosni tj Hercegovini ni 1875/6, Srbija nije nikome uvodila sankcije. A sve to sam vec pisao ovde, ali mora iznova i iznova, izgleda. Pa cak i tu Srbija nije htela rat, to i Zundhauzen priznaje, pa kaze - ali sigurno nije imala planove da zivi u vecnom prijateljstvu. Pa da izvines to je totalni BS, imaj ti dugorocne "planove" da zivis u prijateljstvu sa nekim ko okupira i anektira teritorije u neposrednom okruzenju, na kojima zivi veliki broj tvojih sunarodnika koje onda maltretira, ko ti uvodi sankcije, iznuruje te ekonomski, zastitnik je svih neprijateljskih politickih projekata u okruzenju. Pa to izjaviti je prosto smesno. I sad mi treba da pricamo o ne znam, udzbenicima u Srbiji. Pa treba, u nekakvom medjusobnom dijalogu narodau regionu kako bi se videle medjusobne zablude, uocio pogled i druge strane, kao deo jednog procesa pacifikacije regiona. Ali u kontekstu uzroka izbijanja jednog onakvog sukoba - to je totalna zamena teza.

Edited by MancMellow
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Zapravo ovo je ono osnovno gde ti ne razumes Fischera. Sto nije cudno, ali ne zato sto, eto, ne mozes da ga razumes, nego zato sto ne poznajes metod nastanka znanja te vrste Ali ga zato Zundhauzen odlicno razume, te ga zato i secira mesajuci babe i zabe, i to, stopostotno sam siguran, namerno, jer on je covek od zanata, tu nema nikakve diskusije. Nacionalizam u Srbiji u to doba postoji, tu nema dvojbe. Njegova uloga u procesu konstrukcije midjunarodnih odnosa koji dovode do izbijanja rata je skoro pa nikakva. On nema nista sa Bagdadskom zeleznicom, on nema nista sa Cing-Taoom i Port-Arturom, on nema nista sa Tirpicevim planovima, on nema nista sa pitanjima Moreuza, on nema nista sa Marokom, ona samo ima nesto sa Bosnom, i to u na kraju perioda tokom kojeg, evo da se izrazim savremeno, Austro-Ugarska svesrdno krsi ljudska i manjinska prava srpskog stanovnistva u Bosni i Hercegovini, svesno, namerno, sa ciljem ekonomske, kulturne i politicke marginalizacije jedne etnicke grupe. Bosnu nije okupirala (ajd to jos i u skladu sa tadasnji medjunarodnim pravom), pa onda totalno nepravno prisajedinila Srbija, nego Austro-Ugarska. Srbija nije ni na koji nacin narusila medjunarodno-pravnim poredak na jugoistoku pre nego su ga narusili prvo Austro-Ugarska, pa Bugarska, pa Grcka, pa Albanci, i na kraju Italija. Srbija nije htela rat u Bosni tj Hercegovini ni 1875/6, Srbija nije nikome uvodila sankcije. A sve to sam vec pisao ovde, ali mora iznova i iznova, izgleda. Pa cak i tu Srbija nije htela rat, to i Zundhauzen priznaje, pa kaze - ali sigurno nije imala planove da zivi u vecnom prijateljstvu. Pa da izvines to je totalni BS, imaj ti dugorocne "planove" da zivis u prijateljstvu sa nekim ko okupira i anektira teritorije u neposrednom okruzenju, na kojima zivi veliki broj tvojih sunarodnika koje onda maltretira, ko ti uvodi sankcije, iznuruje te ekonomski, zastitnik je svih neprijateljskih politickih projekata u okruzenju. Pa to izjaviti je prosto smesno. I sad mi treba da pricamo o ne znam, udzbenicima u Srbiji. Pa treba, u nekakvom medjusobnom dijalogu narodau regionu kako bi se videle medjusobne zablude, uocio pogled i druge strane, kao deo jednog procesa pacifikacije regiona. Ali u kontekstu uzroka izbijanja jednog onakvog sukoba - to je totalna zamena teza.

 

Dobro, ti mislis da ja ne razumem Fischera a ja zapravo govorim o citavom kontekstu nemacke istoriografije pre i posle njega.

Fischer u mnogome podseca na Grasa, takodje velikog nemackog moralistu 20. veka, koji je kao i Fischer u mladjim danima bio nacista. Oboje su zatim skrenuli na levi kolosek  i u tome je njihov znacaj - doprineli su velikom povratku balansa u nemacki  intelektualni prostor koji je gotovo 100 godina bio na desnici. Jos veci znacaj je u tome sto su stavili naciste (kao i Hajek uostalom vec ranije) u kontinuitet imperijalne Nemacke i tendecija pre toga.

No, to opet ne znaci da su sve Fischerove teze tacne - prvi i najprostoji razlog sto se Fischer bavio tom iskljucivom krivicom imperijalne Nemacke jeste sto nije imao pristupa arhivima drugih sila. Danas se to menja i zato slika kroz danasnju debatu postaje uravnotezenija.

Npr. ovo gore sto ti navodis je klasicna lista grehova AU koja se moze sastaviti za bilo koju nacionalisticku ili imperijalnu silu tog vremena. Zato Zundhauzen i spominje znacaj povoda. Ako, po Fiseru, ignorisemo povod, onda nece biti da je samo Nemacka imala rasisticke, nacionalisticke i imperijalne planove jer su ih istoricari sastavili po ugledu na Fischera. Sa druge strane, ako dajemo veliki znacaj samoj dinamici odnosa koji su prethodili ratu, onda tesko da se povod moze tek tako zaboraviti posto je sam Franc Ferdinand bio znacaj politicki faktor.

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o imperijalizmu, nacionalizmu, revoluciji, bezbednosti i nezavisnosti...

 

 

Beyond Annexationism: The Central Powers’ Ostpolitik as Structural Transformation, 1917–18
Borislav Chernev

 

 

This article aims to go beyond the traditional annexationist–non-annexationist dichotomy prevalent in the literature and approach the issue from the perspective of structural transformation of the international system, while also emphasising the role of individual agency. It argues that between the autumn of 1917 and the autumn of 1918 the Central Powers sought to accommodate imperial collapse in Russia and prevent its westward spread by establishing a new system of sovereign, semisovereign, and dependent states in the western borderlands of the former Russian Empire. While a general consensus on this strategy existed, German and Austrian civilian leaders and the German High Command often disagreed on its specific parameters and how best to achieve it. It arose from concerns about the security of Germany and Austria-Hungary, both perceived and real, during a period of unprecedented flux and uncertainty but also incredible opportunity. A newfound appreciation of the far-reaching potential of minority-population politics in what had previously been seen as a monolithic Russian colossus drove the policy, which is most clearly evident in the case of Ukraine. Owing to these factors, the Ostpolitik of the Central Powers in 1917–18 comprised a bundle of policies which were ad hoc, reactive, often times mutually contradictory and provisional due to the on-going hostilities on several other fronts.

 

 


...
When the question of the size of the Polish border strip Germany intended to incorporate in order to strengthen the defences of Silesia and East Prussia came up, Kuhlmann [The German State Secretary for Foreign Affairs]and Hertling once again urged moderation, citing possible trouble in the Reichstag as well as the opposition of the Prussian Ministry of State to a large influx of Poles. Kaiser Wilhelm II insisted that Germany had the right to secure its borders in Poland (presumably against Austrian demands), as it alone had liberated that country. Once again, a final decision was postponed indefinitely. In contrast to other matters, there was no disagreement over the future status of Courland and Lithuania, as Hertling raised no objections to a personal union with Germany. The Kaiser dismissed their having separate rulers but acknowledged the necessity to allow the two duchies substantial internal autonomy and govern them ‘with a loose rein’ (mit langem Zaugel), so they could develop their special character (Eigenart). Having thus outlined, however vaguely, their territorial policy at the upcoming conference, German leaders failed to specify how it was to be pursued, presumably allowing Kuhlmann considerable leeway on strategy
...
The Bolsheviks made no secret of the fact that they aimed at no less than a wholesale structural transformation of international relations. Their openly provocative diplomacy was in stark contrast to the deferential restraint the Austro-German Cabinet diplomats practised. During his first conversation with Czernin, Adolf Joffe, leader of the Russian delegation in the absence of Trotsky, told the astonished Austrian diplomat: ‘I hope we may yet be able to raise the revolution in your country too.’30 Nor was this empty banter. When news of the on-going strikes in Austria- Hungary reached him in mid-January 1918, Trotsky impertinently asked Czernin’s  permission to travel to Vienna in order to meet with the workers.31  :s_p:  Upon receiving a polite but firm refusal, he proceeded to add insult to injury by accusing the Austro-Hungarian Foreign Minister of ‘refusing to allow direct negotiations between the representatives of the Workers’ and Peasants’ Government of Russia and the Austrian proletariat’. His government had expressly authorised him to pursue such negotiations, Trotsky added, lest there be the slightest shadow of a doubt over the legitimacy of his humble request.32 The delegates of the Central Powers were understandably irked at such repeated provocations and unprecedented meddling in their countries’ internal affairs.
In addition to the ultimate goal of world revolution, the Bolshevik delegation had a set of more specific aims, which Lenin penned on 10 December. Russia would accept only a peace based on the principles of no annexations and indemnities, and the recognition of the right of self-determination, extended to nations which had not enjoyed that right up to this point (colonies). Furthermore, Lenin expanded the meaning of the term annexations to include ‘any territory . . . whose population, over the last few decades . . . has expressed dissatisfaction with the integration of their [sic] territory into another state . . .’33 This programme was much more far-reaching than anything the Central Powers hoped to achieve, as its full realisation would have entailed the wholesale elimination of the imperial paradigm of international relations.
It was precisely the Bolshevik programme, outlined by Joffe on 22 December, which led to the first crisis in Brest-Litovsk.34 Czernin and Kuhlmann, who generally saw eye to eye on most matters, quickly agreed to play along in an attempt to embarrass Russia’s allies. Three days later, Czernin delivered a speech accepting the Russian proposition as a suitable basis for a general peace.35 This had the immediate effect of infuriating the OHL [German High Command] in the first of several cases in which the generals disagreed with the diplomats’ methods rather than the policy they were pursuing. ‘From the negotiations one gets the impression that the Russians, not we, are the demandants,’ Hindenburg telegraphed indignantly.
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What can we make of the Austro-Hungarian Foreign Minister’s sudden decision to use his ultima ratio at the first sight of trouble, thereby threatening the integrity of the entire alliance? Hoffmann considered Czernin’s shattered nerves to be the cause of his erratic behaviour.

...

This was not the last time the Austro-Hungarian Foreign Minister would cross the generals more openly than either the State Secretary or the Imperial Chancellor thought prudent. Czernin was mindful of the fact that the Habsburg Empire had largely achieved its war aims by 1917: it had subdued Serbia and Montenegro, neutralised Romania, and prepared the ground for a future implementation of the Austro - Polish solution. At the same time, it desperately needed peace, as its increasingly beleaguered armies, fractured society, and strained war economy could not withstand the immense pressures of total war much longer. Thus, Czernin had to perform a delicate balancing act, as Austria-Hungary’s security needs required the  preservation of the German alliance in addition to the conclusion of peace in the east. The Dual Monarchy was too weak to oppose on its own the dismemberment the Entente had threatened to carry out in the 1915 Treaty of London and subsequent secret agreements. Besides, as Martin Dean reminds us: ‘To Austria, alliances were deemed necessary for her continued survival, as opposed to the more independent traditions of Prussian foreign policy.’48 A separate peace with an unreliable, revolutionary government in Petrograd was a poor substitute.
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‘My plan was to involve Trotsky in an academic discussion about the right of national self-determination and its possible practical application, in order to bring about whatever territorial concessions we absolutely required [through this right],’ Kuhlmann wrote in his memoirs.49 He would argue that the border states had already exercised their right of self-determination in separating from Russia and were currently under German protection.50 The Russians would have to recognise this or risk appearing hypocritical, as they themselves had insisted on the inviolability of the right to national self-determination. If successful, this policy would transfer the western borderlands of the former Russian Empire to the Central Powers’ sphere of influence, as their viability as (at least nominally) independent states would be dependent upon Austro-German military support, in the face of open Bolshevik hostility.

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As Jerry Hoffman and Oleh Fedyshyn have argued persuasively, the negotiations with the Ukrainians highlight the extent to which the Central Powers’ Ostpolitik in 1917–18 was an improvised and reactive affair. In a process paralleled elsewhere in the Russian Empire after the February Revolution, Ukraine had steadily drifted away from the central government in Petrograd. On 20 November 1917, the Tsentral’na Rada (Central Council) issued the Third Universal, proclaiming the Ukrainian People’s Republic to be an autonomous entity within a larger Russian Federative Republic it wished to see created. This process of gradual fragmentation did not go unnoticed in Berlin. As early as the spring of 1916, the German Foreign Office had begun financing the emigre-run, Stockholm-based League of Russia’s Foreign Peoples (Liga der Fremdvolker Russlands), which conducted  anti-Russian propaganda in neutral countries in order to highlight Petrograd’s poor treatment of its national minorities. Austrian reports from the summer of 1917 focused on the emergence of a Ukrainian national space within the larger Russian Empire, distinguished from its Great Russian counterpart by the ‘extremely delicate border question [sehr heikle Grenzfrage] and the agrarian question’. The emphasis was on ethnonational developments, specifically the drive to incorporate all Ukrainian-speaking provinces in the north which might otherwise gravitate towards Russia. These developments were bolstered by socio-economic disparities, illustrated by the less pronounced land hunger of Ukrainian peasants in comparison to that of Russian peasants. By the autumn of 1917, the Wilhelmstraße was also monitoring closely secessionist tendencies among Russia’s subject peoples, which demonstrates an ongoing transition from purely territorial thinking, typical of the old imperial paradigm, to a nascent, new type of thinking which prioritised populations.
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In spite of this ambivalence, the German Foreign Office did not fail to note that a profound structural shift away from imperial dynasticism was under way. Its reports identified three groups of national minorities in Russia based on the level of development and aspirations of their national-liberation movements. At the same time, they cautioned against full-blown support for national revolution during what they saw as a fluid transitional phase (Zwischenstadium) of the ‘new order of relations on the Russian western border’ (Neuordnung der Verhaltnisse an der russische Westgrenze), recommending that only Finland and, perhaps, the Caucasus become fully independent. In accordance with this line of reasoning, the German Foreign Office proceeded cautiously and, as late as mid-December 1917, maintained that a premature recognition of Ukrainian independence would bring few benefits. The initiative lay  with the Ukrainians, who quickly got into conflict with Petrograd due to their friendly relations with the anti-Bolshevik Don Cossacks. This precipitated an ultimatum from Lenin on 16 December, which demanded access to the Don region for Bolshevik troops through Ukrainian territory. As tensions between the two states rose, a Ukrainian delegation appeared in Brest-Litovsk on 3 January 1918, declared that it wanted nothing to do with the Bolsheviks, and expressed its willingness to sign a treaty with the Central Powers as quickly as possible.
The unexpected arrival of the Ukrainians created a new rupture, which led to a series of developments neither the diplomats nor the generals had anticipated during the December conferences. Suddenly, the Central Powers had a trump card. ‘Our line of policy . . . must be either to bring the Ukrainians to our peace basis, or else drive a wedge between them and the Petersburgers [sic],’ mused Czernin. This was easier said than done, as the Ukrainian delegates drove a hard bargain. In another case of smooth co-operation between Hoffmann and the diplomats, the general asked for and received Czernin’s permission to negotiate with the young representatives of the Rada on his behalf. Oleksandr Sevriuk and Mykola Liubinsky originally claimed the Polish district of Cholm and Austrian East Galicia. Hoffmann dismissed the latter but raised no objection to the former, as his anti-Polish bias led him to favour Ukraine. As a result of the General’s intervention, by the first session of the political commission on 13 January, the Ukrainians had reduced their demands to ‘self-determination for their brothers in Galicia’, which in effect meant the creation of a new Habsburg crownland comprising the majority Ukrainian-populated areas of East Galicia and Bukovina.

Albeit more moderate, the Ukrainian conditions nonetheless left the Austro-Hungarian Foreign Minister in an awkward position. Acquiescing to them would set a dangerous precedent of foreign involvement in the Dual Monarchy’s internal affairs. Above all, it would anger the Poles, whose support the Habsburgs needed in order to secure a favourable future constitutional status of Congress Poland. However, the dire internal conditions in Austria-Hungary and the widespread desire for peace at almost any price forced Czernin’s hand. At a meeting of the Joint Ministerial Council held in Vienna on 22 January, he urged the acceptance of the Ukrainian conditions and reiterated his desire to conduct a separate peace with the Russians, should the Germans’ obstinacy threaten to derail the negotiations. The Hungarian Prime Minister, Wekerle, yet again objected vehemently but was eventually outvoted, and Czernin received the council’s approval to proceed accordingly on both accounts.
Upon his return to Brest-Litovsk on 28 January, Czernin pushed through the negotiations with the Ukrainians, urging them to issue a declaration of full independence, which they did with the Fourth Universal. As Czernin and Kuhlmann duly extended recognition, Trotsky correctly surmised that: ‘In light of their domestic conditions, they require some sort of diplomatic success, even if it is without much substance . . . They are seemingly conducting negotiations with the Kiev Rada in order to present us with a fait accompli.’ Trotsky himself had not kept idle, instructing his Red Guards to subvert the Rada by any means necessary during the course of January. As the Rada suffered a series of crushing military defeats and fled to the western town of Zhitomir, the leader of the Russian delegation sent Kuhlmann a note informing him that the Rada had fallen and the Ukrainian Soviets were now in charge.
Their backs to the wall, the Ukrainians had little choice but to ask the Central Powers for help. As one of the leading Ukrainian statesmen of the time put it, the national policy of the Bolsheviks drove Ukraine ‘into the open arms of German imperialism’. In the meantime, Austrian and German statesmen reaffirmed their Ukrainian policy at an inter-allied conference in Berlin on 5 February. Czernin emphasised the sacrifices Austria-Hungary was forced to make in order to secure peace with the Rada, while Kuhlmann asserted reassuringly that the Ukrainian idea was much stronger than the Bolshevik one and bound to prevail. The Central Powers should continue to support it in order to stabilise the situation in the east. Ludendorff concurred that Ukrainian statehood ought to be strengthened, with a view towards weakening Russia. The two sides also agreed - some heated exchanges between Czernin and Ludendorff on the nature of the alliance notwithstanding - to force Trotsky to clarify his position without further prevarication immediately after the signing of the Ukrainian peace. Exasperation with the Bolshevik methods of negotiations and endless provocations was hardly limited to the OHL. Even the Bulgarian government, which traditionally favoured closer relations with Russia, recommended presenting Trotsky with an ultimatum in early February as the best course of action.
...
The German civilian leaders met with the generals and the Kaiser at a conference in Bad Homburg on 13 February to deliberate the best response to the sudden rupture of negotiations. Convinced that ‘the Russians could no longer hurt us,’ Kuhlmann suggested accepting the new status quo in the east, a view he was aware the Austrians shared. Yet again, he warned against damaging Germany’s long-term relations with Russia for the sake of Livonia and Estonia. Occupying the two Baltic provinces, however, represented the very minimum of Ludendorff’s demands; the outraged First Quartermaster-General advocated marching on Petrograd and removing the Bolsheviks from power. While this measure did not receive widespread support, it was Hertling’s turn to break rank and side with the generals against the state secretary. Outvoted, Kuhlmann eventually acquiesced to the proposed arrangements. The council thus authorised the termination of the armistice, effective 17 February, and informed the Bolsheviks to that effect.
...
German troops soon advanced on a wide front extending from the Baltic to Ukraine (where they acted in concert with the weak forces of the Rada), facing little opposition. ‘It is the most comical war I have ever seen,’ wrote Hoffmann in his diary. ‘It is almost entirely carried on by rail and motorcar. We put a handful of infantrymen with machine guns and one gun on a train and push them off to the next station; they take it, make prisoners of the Bolsheviks, pick up a few more troops and go on.’ This new evidence of the Russian Army’s complete disintegration and the fear of being left out of the distribution of Ukrainian grain quickly persuaded the Austrians to join in a few days later.
The Austro-German advance convinced the Bolshevik leadership to request new terms. On 21 February, the Germans sent a set of conditions which the Russians accepted three days later, after considerable debate between the rival factions of the Bolshevik Party. On 3 March, the Russian delegation signed the treaty having barely looked at it. Its terms recognised the permanent detachment of Poland, Courland, and Lithuania from Russia, with the deliberately vague proviso that ‘Germany and Austria-Hungary purpose to determine the future status of these territories in
agreement with their population’ (Article III). Russia also agreed to conclude peace with Ukraine and evacuate Finland, Livonia, and Estonia (Article VI). Finally, the Germans secured what amounted to a hidden indemnity through a clause which stipulated that ‘each contracting party will reimburse the expenses incurred by the other party for its nationals who have been made prisoners of war.’ The Bolsheviks had only themselves to blame if these terms appeared harsh.
...
Eventually, wiser councils prevailed on both sides, and the two countries even went as far as signing a supplementary treaty on 27 August in an attempt to put an end to outstanding territorial disputes and regulate financial relations. With Russia embroiled in a full-fledged civil war and Germany suffering defeats in the west, it proved to be too little too late.
...
Already in early March, Austrian military and civilian authorities in Ukraine were painting the situation in the darkest possible hues. The people were unfriendly, sometimes openly hostile, as they feared the presence of the German and Austro-Hungarian armies might imperil the achievements of the revolution. This made the local authorities equally unpopular. ‘The power of the Rada extends only as far as our military forces,’ one report warned.The Rada’s impotence was not entirely due to bad leadership and incompetence, however. Given the strong centripetal forces at work, it would have been virtually impossible for any government to exercise power without the use of mass coercion. This was not an option for the Rada, as every organ of state was destroyed, and the Rada was not widely recognised across the land.
...
Unable to cope with the chaotic situation in any other way, the exasperated Austrian forces in southern Ukraine began expropriating grain from the hostile peasants in complete disregard of Ukrainian authorities. Their patience at an end, the Germans went a step further on 29 April, when they co-sponsored a military coup led by a former tsarist general, Pavlo Skoropadsky, now calling himself Hetman of All Ukraine. Skoropadsky put an end to the Rada’s social experiments and restored private property ‘as the foundation of culture and civilization’, but he, too, was able to exercise little actual power. Within two months of entering Ukraine, the Central Powers had gradually evolved from liberators to occupiers, without really intending to do so. The Hetmanate did not survive long their withdrawal in late October. Unlike Ukraine, Poland and Lithuania had been under Austro-German occupation since the summer of 1915 and had not experienced revolution. Yet the Central Powers’ policies in these largely peaceful territories were equally contradictory and self-defeating. In the Imperial Government-General of Warsaw, the German civilian administration sought to create a semi-autonomous Polish state which would enjoy considerable domestic freedom, but whose foreign policy would be subordinate to Germany. This squared poorly with the openly pro-Polish Austrian Military-Government Lublin and the nebulous Kingdom of Poland. The proclamation of the latter in November 1916 had been yet another short-term, improvised measure intended to aid the Central Powers’ war effort by raising Polish troops, an endeavour which failed miserably and only served to further complicate an already messy situation of competing administrations and overlapping sovereignties.

 

In Lithuania and Courland, the military administration of Ober Ost envisioned a state ‘after its own spirit’, in complete disregard of the wishes of the local populations, the civilian government, or the Kaiser. In pursuit of this goal, it worked to transform the perceived backward lands of the east into modern, civilised, productive spaces. This notion of a civilising mission (the spread of Central European Kultur) went hand in hand with the casual racism of the early twentieth century. ‘The Lithuanian is just as capable of governing himself as my daughter Ilse is of educating herself,’ wrote Hoffmann dismissively several months after his appointment as chief of staff of Ober Ost. Almost a year later, he still maintained: ‘It is possible to make something of Lithuania only if it is closely associated with Prussia: any sort of independent Lithuania would be hopeless.’ Combined with perceived military exigencies, such attitudes led to policies which made the local populations decidedly anti-German over the course of the occupation. Simultaneously, the occupation became a ‘catalyst for the surge in nationalist activity’ in places where national identity had been underdeveloped before the war, such as Belarus.By the spring of 1918, larger patterns of the new structure the Central Powers intended to erect in Eastern Europe were emerging, as were certain differences in their outlook. ‘The collapse of the tsar’s empire has given Germany the opportunity to completely transform its Ostpolitik,’ began a report from prince Hohenlohe, the Austro-Hungarian Ambassador at Berlin, to Czernin. Germany aimed to secure its eastern border by breaking away as many states as possible from the body of the Russian Empire and weakening it through the use of the right of self-determination. In contrast, the need to secure foodstuffs from Ukraine, not entirely absent from German considerations, utterly dominated Austrian short-term concerns. In the long run, the Central Powers had to take into account the possibility of Ukraine being reincorporated into Russia, a development not necessarily injurious to Austrian interests in the area. ‘I ask myself whether we have an interest in shoring up perpetually a Ukrainian state which has “unredeemed brothers” in Austria,’ mused the Ambassador, highlighting the threat imperial collapse posed to the Dual Monarchy. For the time being, however, Austria-Hungary’s eastern policy remained a balancing act between Poland and Ukraine, as the Poles were an important factor in the Habsburg Empire’s precarious mosaic of nationalities. As the stronger and more nationally homogenous partner in the alliance, Germany could afford to be bolder and compromise less, but decisive defeats in the west meant that its power was ebbing
steadily by the autumn of 1918.

 

 

 

 

Between the autumn of 1917 and the autumn of 1918, the Central Powers tried to make sense of imperial collapse in Russia. Their decision to enter into negotiations with the Bolsheviks and, hesitantly at first, support the aspirations of Russia’s national minorities sounded the death knell of imperial dynasticism, the dominant structure of international relations in Central and Eastern Europe before 1914. The ensuing period of paradigmatic shift saw Germany and Austria-Hungary try to bolster their state security by establishing a belt of autonomous and semiautonomous states in the western borderlands of the former Russian Empire, which would be politically and economically aligned with Central Europe. German and Austrian leaders often disagreed on implementation and formed temporary understandings across the civilian–military divide, as they battled to become the driving force behind the Ostpolitik of the alliance. This policy ultimately proved counterproductive, as it failed to contain the westward spread of national and social revolution. Austro-German support for nominally independent states in Eastern Europe, national in form but Central European in cultural and political outlook, inadvertently contributed to further imperial collapse, as the increasingly restless nationalities of Austria-Hungary began to challenge the legitimacy of imperial dynasticism, already moribund further east, in Central Europe.

The Central Powers’ Ostpolitik in 1917–18 thus became a transformative historical event due to the fact that it facilitated the structural transformation of international relations in Central and Eastern Europe from imperial dynasticism to a system of nation-states, a process Eric Weitz has described as the move from the Vienna system, characterised by dynastic legitimacy, to the Paris system, characterised by population politics. Emerging from the ruins of the imperial framework, this new system was profoundly unstable in its first incarnation during the inter-war period. It satisfied few and angered many. As the Arbeiter Zeitung’s anonymous columnist had foreshadowed just days after the signing of the second treaty of Brest-Litovsk, the twin process of imperial collapse and nation-state formation became a source of continuous disturbances and fermentation in Europe, as authoritarian, revisionist leaders rose to power across the continent in the 1920s and 1930s.

 

Edited by Prospero
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