If one thing is definite about Heimann's book on Czechoslovakia it is that it is not the definitive history of that country its publishers claim it to be. That is a pity, as it does contain some very valuable and thought-provoking insights that make it a worthy read in spite of its many obvious weaknesses.
What are these insights? The book attacks right on a central part of Czech national self- perception, viz., the notion that the Czech nation, while always dedicated to such high ideals as liberty and democracy has - no less regularly - been prevented from living these ideals out either by the illegitimate intervention by its various powerful neighbours or by the - just as illegitimate (as the Czechs have it) - lack of such intervention. In this, the intervention bit is primarily reserved for the Germans (first, as the Habsburgs, later, the Nazis) and, subsequently, for the Soviets resp. the Russians. The lack of such intervention, on the other hand, is blamed on the "Western powers", in particular during the Munich crisis and the Prague spring on both of which occasions the Czechs felt "betrayed" by their erstwhile Western "friends". This tragedy is alleged to have started with the so-called "battle of the white mountain" in 1620, with regard to which the Czechs, for reasons obvious only to themselves, have chosen to identify with the losing party. Since then, so public Czech consensus has it, the - high-minded - Czechs have always been the victims of history - morally superior to everybody else, to be sure, in particular in comparison with their much detested German neighbours. Simultaneously, they never were the evil perpetrators of anything!
Not so, Heimann`s book clearly shows! She very ably and convincingly proves from the original sources that this self-perception is what it is: a lie or, to put it more politely, a national myth. In reality, so her conclusion, the Czechs were no better (and, sometimes, indeed, even far worse!) than their counterparts elsewhere. Surprisingly, this holds true, in particular, even vis-à-vis the Germans. To this add a sometimes almost incredible Czech opportunism coupled with an almost non-existing readiness to admit any of these faults for good mixture.
All of these points are highly interesting, well researched and - at least from a German point of view - highly welcome new appraisals. In theory, at least, they might eventually lead to a more realistic view, on the part of the Czechs, of their own history and the evil parts they themselves have - among others, no doubt - played in that history. It might thus constitute a welcome first step on the long road to a sincere (re-?) conciliation between them and their neighbours (especially, but not only, with the Germans).
However, unfortunately, the value of these welcome insights is greatly compromised by several massive weaknesses of the book:
First, the author, almost throughout her entire book, employs a sloppy and derisive tone towards everything Czech that is simply misplaced. A good example is the passage on Dvorak on p. 16, but it runs throughout the book.
Second, although such heavy-weight critics as "The Economist" in its review (Nov. 21st, 2009) have certified the author an "exemplary" attention to detail, it contains a surprising abundance of factual mistakes that concern the general background of her story. One example for this is where she talks about Hitler who she says "had served in the Habsburg army in the First World War" (p. 119)(false, Hitler never did, but, even though he was then indeed an Austrian, served as a volunteer in the German army instead), another one is her description of Poland in 1939 being divided - like ancient Gaul - into three parts, one "German controlled Western part", one "Soviet controlled Eastern part" and in the middle the so-called "General Government" (p. 123). While it is left unexplained who was in control of this "third part", this wording implies that at least it was not under the exclusive control of either Germany or the Soviet Union (as such exclusivity is pointed out as a distinct and defining feature of the other two zones). So, maybe this area, at least, enjoyed some kind of autonomy? Or was it administered jointly by the two occupying powers? This is at least suggested by the explanation of the function of this zone as a "dumping ground for Jews, intellectuals and other enemies of the two ... totalitarian regimes". However, both these possibilities are clearly wrong. Instead, the "General Government" was that subdivision of the part of Poland that had, by the Hitler-Stalin pact of August 1939, been attributed to exclusive German control which was not outright annexed by Germany but whose ultimate destiny, instead, remained reserved for some later decision (the part assigned by that pact to the Soviet Union, in contrast, was annexed by that country in toto immediately upon its occupation). Thus, not only was this area clearly and exclusively under German control (until its ultimate liberation by the Red Army in 1944) it accordingly was never destined as a dumping ground for the enemies of both totalitarian regimes, but, at best, for those of the German regime alone.
No less mistaken is the statement immediately following, viz., that this "General Government" became "the site of "the" largest and most infamous ... concentration camps". First, not all large concentration camps were situated there. Second, this applies, in particular, to Auschwitz, the most prominent of all such camps which the author - obviously for this prominence - wrongly cites as an example - indeed her only example - for her claim to the contrary. Rather, Auschwitz was safely located in such part of Poland as had been outright annexed to Germany. Third, Auschwitz could for various more reasons not have been destined as a "dumping ground" for enemies of the Soviet regime, but, if anything, as a "dumping ground" for its supporters, viz., for soldiers of the Red Army, having been built originally as a camp for Soviet POWs, and operating as an extermination camp only when the war against the Soviet Union was already in full swing and Germany no longer had any interest in propping up the regime of its erstwhile ally by persecuting its enemies.
This kind of inaccuracy, however, is by no means relegated to facts concerning the general historical background of the book's story but also continues with regard to the gist of its subject: This applies, e.g., to the author's statement that Masaryk's mother was "a German cook" (p. 21). According to Wikipedia, at least, she was a Moravian Slav, even though it is true that her mother tongue - as it so often happened in those times - was indeed German!
While none of these mistakes has an immediate bearing upon the validity or non-validity of her main theses, they strongly convey the feeling that the author simply isn't sufficiently familiar with the complexities of European history of the time to claim the authority to be the first one to write "the definitive" history about Czechoslovakia (or anything else European, for that matter).
This impression is further corroborated by the discovery that nowhere does the book take recourse to even a single source written in either the German or the Russian languages. This is amazing, to say the least. After all, this part of central Europe had for centuries been dominated by German culture, language and administration and was inhabited by a one third-minority of German speakers during the first half of the period covered by this book (i.e., until after WW II) - among them such world-renowned personalities as the car-engineer Ferdinand Porsche, the logician Kurt Goedel and the writers Franz Kafka, Franz Werfel and Rainer Maria Rilke! A country, furthermore, that, during what was probably its most formative period, was occupied by Nazi Germany, i.e., by German speakers once again! A definitive - or rather: - "the" - definitive history of this area without the use of even one original German-language source? Sorry! Similar qualms exist with regard to Russian language sources or, rather, the complete lack of them, concerning the developments after 1945! Surely the events constituting the communist take-over in 1948 as well as those surrounding the "Prague spring" and the "velvet revolution" of 1989 cannot with any authority be fully appreciated without taking recourse to Russian-language sources?
Very likely the same reason - a certain narrowness of outlook - that manifests itself here, must also be blamed for another surprising feature of the book: its often undue readiness to explain certain supranational phenomena of the time that also occurred in Czechoslovakia out of their international context in purely domestic terms. (This aspect was brought to my attention by the very able commentary of David Vaughan in Prague TV of Jan. 13th, 2010). This sometimes runs counter-intuitive, to say the least. Take Czech anti-semitism during the - short-lived - second republic (i.e., between the fall of 1938 and the spring of 1939). Can it - with any claim to plausibility - really be maintained (see p. 87 ff.) that this phenomenon developed entirely independently of the massive anti-semitic policies of much more powerful neighbouring Germany during the same period? To be sure: maybe it can! After all, why shouldn't the same reasons that were responsible for a certain phenomenon in one country simultaneously have been at work in another country without there being a relationship of causation between them? However, in order to prove this alleged independence, surely much more discussion and corroboration by factual evidence would be required than the author is prepared to devote to it respectively to provide. Virtually the same applies, e.g., to her contention that Czechoslovakia's decision, after WW II, to become a Soviet satellite or, at least, a member of the Soviet camp, had been - more or less - voluntary. Though the author is probably right in that, at the end of World War II, "the majority of Czechs wanted an ethnically clean state more than democracy" (p. 176) and therefore was prepared to snuggle up to the Soviet Union under whose protection this overriding objective seemed easiest to accomplish, can it really be said that an action I was forced to take was "voluntary" just because I had wanted to take it anyway?
Next, and in particular in the light of her findings, several highly interesting questions almost force themselves upon the reader which the author, nevertheless, fails to address. Let me present only two of them here: how is the wide-spread Czech opportunism that she - rightly - observes (and criticizes as permeating the entire history of the republic) to be explained (e.g. the almost unanimous collaboration of the Czechs with their German occupiers almost to the last day and their lack of resistance during the time of "normalization")? (In contrast, at least an attempt at such an explanation is made for the third such incidence, viz., the time of "perestroika" and "glasnost", when the Czechs, with their "velvet revolution", were - once again - the last of all (East-)European nations to finally reclaim both their individual liberty and national independence). Was all this but a manifestation of a kind of deficit in the Czech national character or was it not rather and simply a consequence of a highly able occupation policy employed by these various occupiers, i.e., something today's often much less successful occupiers (Iraq, Afghanistan) might even take a lesson from? Another question would be what the reasons were for the particularly excessive violence with which the Czechs went about the expulsion of their centuries-old neighbours and compatriots, the Sudeten-Germans, after the war. After all, nasty though the period of occupation certainly was, almost any other nation - especially those of Eastern Europe - had suffered considerably more under German occupation (and the war) than the Czechs!
Finally, the subtitle: catchy as it may be, seems entirely unwarranted in the case of Czechoslovakia: indeed, if measured against the standard defined for it by its founding father, Tomas G. Masaryk, himself, viz., to constitute an effective "anti-German bulwark", it must surely be considered an extreme success story: by shrewdly and unscrupulously cleansing the country of everything German the moment the opportunity to do so arose in the wake of World War II (without having to fear any retribution or even punishment from their victims or from anybody else, for that matter), the Czechoslovak republic achieved that very aim (the "bulwark"!) in a way much more complete than could have been even dreamed of at the time this goal was originally set! A crime this certainly was (and an enormous one at that)! A "failure", as measured against the above-defined purpose, it certainly was not! Besides, which other state can boast to have bounced back to life virtually unscathed after two hostile foreign occupations within only one generation?
With all this, two questions come to one's mind:
1) where was the editor?
2) How could such an abundance of mistakes happen to an experienced professor?
While I clearly have no answer to the first of these questions, I would like to submit a possible one for the second: according to the book's cover, the author has spent 2 years studying the "Czech language archives". First, such studies obviously could not have provided - and accordingly did not provide - the author with the indispensable (see above) knowledge of any non-Czech-language material. More important, though, while two years, at first sight, sounds a lot, they are obviously far too little to fully appreciate all the intricacies of such a complicated subject as the entire history of Czechoslovakia, even as it appears from the Czech language sources alone. This applies all the more to someone who - like the author - is not familiar enough with European history in general to know - e.g. - the basic biographical data of Adolf Hitler as a matter of course. Even though the author has done an excellent job (considering the shortness of the available period), digging out some highly interesting and relevant factual details, therefore, her discoveries of necessity are - and cannot be more than - only fragmentary. Most important, however, it has obviously left her far too little time for reflection and internal discussion in order to put her findings into perspective before throwing them - virtually untested - into the public arena. To summarize: it seems the author has greatly underestimated the task she has taken upon herself, at the same time just as greatly overestimating her - or anyone's - ability to master it (within the short time available). All in all, therefore, the "definitive "history of Czechoslovakia remains yet to be written!
I can only hope that the author, prompted by the massive - and deserved - criticism she is presently receiving for this book, does not feel discouraged to try again and will, in the second edition, provide a more balanced and less derisory account of what she has to say so that the very valuable insights this book undoubtedly provides, will ultimately be considered with the sincerity they deserve.
To conclude with, let me admit that I find it difficult to come to a proper overall evaluation of the book: on the one hand, by digging out a lot of really new (or at least widely unknown) source material the author has succeeded in offering some truly new and refreshing perspectives on her subject that make her book a far more interesting and challenging read than most others on the market. On the other hand, there are its considerable weaknesses. Altogether, therefore, I find it to occupy some place on the middle ground and would therefore award it either two or three of the available five stars. However, in the face of its rather immodest claim to be "the" definitive history of its subject, in the end it only gets two.