CZECH VIEWPOINT

Evening Post, Volume CXXVI, Issue 79, 30 September 1938, Page 4

CZECH VIEWPOINT

LOVE OF THEIR SOIL

DISTRUST OF THE FASCISTS

WOULD ALL FIGHT

In less than five minutes fast German bombers could reach this Czech village and shower it with death, said Emil Lengyel, writing to trie "New York Times" from Zhor last month. The lovely hills behind which the morning sun rises are casemates of destruction. The Czech Army would yield this territory inch by inch, until it reached those hills which: conceal the Maginot Line of Czechoslovakia. The Moravian Quadrangle behind it oristles with arms. In case of a German attack, this village, may become: part of a torn and ; .mangled no man's land. Zhor is in pre-war Bohemia, which formed the western part of^ today's Czechoslovakia. It is near the'town of Ceska Trebova, about three hours by train from Prague, west from here. The village has no railway connection, but can be reached by bus. So rare are outside observers that this writer had to produce his papers and state his business before the bus was allowed to depart. Caution is valued highly in this cockpit of Europe, and the frontier is only twelve miles away.

WAYS OF SPIES.

The village hugs a winding road, and its by-paths shoot off into waving fields. Under its bower of oak and beech Zhor is a picture of peace. In the reflection of the rich green foliage, the white and light blue w v alls of its houses provide a colour symphony. The scene is dominated by the school, which would not be out of place in a rural district of the United States. The peace of the scene is disturbed only by notices oil the village board which remind the visitor that the soil he treads is a potential battlefield. The youth of the village is exhorted to join the air force, and gas attack warnings are featured. A vivid poster illustrates the subtle ways of spies. The whirr of a thrashing machine is heard in a near-by field. An ox team treads the path to the loft, piled high with hay. Swallows scuttle back and forth from their mud-nest, the lark shoots into the blue air. In lisping Czech the farmer's son exhorts the horse Jancu to go along. About 30 per cent, of Czechoslovakia's people are farmers, and the number of those engaged in forestry and agricultural industries is large. Indeed, the typical Czech is represented as a farmer and as such he has been immortalised in song and story.

THE WESTERNMOST SLAV.

He is the westernmost representative of the race which spreads for nearly 7000 miles to the east, as far as the Pacific. He is a Slav. His hair is light, and he is a little above medium height. If it were not for the strongly chiselled Slavic nose it would not be easy to tell the Czech and Bavarian farmers apart. Among these anti-Hitler villagers the' "Hitler moustache" is not ■, rare. Their women. are just beginning to cultivate the modish line through sports and diet. Hundreds of thousands of them are members of the vast gymnastic association, the Sokols. • For thirteen centuries, Czech history tells us, the ancestors of these villagers have tilled the soil v Known as Bohemia, their country at one time was feared and respected. But Czech independence was lost to the House of Habsburg in the battle of the White Mountain in the seventeenth century. For three hundred years the Czechs were under Austrian rule. Nevertheless, they retained with venerable firmness their language and their sense of nationality. Twenty years ago the spokesmen of the victors at the Paris Peace Conference carved today's Czechoslovakia out of the body of the Austro-Hungarian monarchy. The Habsburgs were in exile and the country of the Czechs became a republic. The Czech farmer is literate and articulate. He is not a peasant in the sense in which the word is used here, but is a "sedlak," a .settler, who would not feel out of place in a farming community of the United States. His hands are skilful, and if machinery is not more widely seen it is because the. farmers' holdings are small. * INTENSIVE CULTIVATION. Until 1919 more than 40 per cent, of the land in old Bohemia belonged to large estate owners. In that year these holdings were broken, up and given to the landless. Today the average size of farms in Czechoslovakia is fifteen acres. The soil is of the best in this part of Europe and it is cultivated nearly as intensively as Denmark's. In addition to the more usual crops, the Czech farmer grows and exports sugar beet, flax, hemp, poppies, caraway, currants. He could easily supply the country's demand for food, but some agricultural products must be imported in order, to export the excess industrial output. \ The village craftsman is in a class by himself. The old Austro-Hungarian monarchy knew him as a jack-of-all trades. Even today Czech tailors and shoemakers, whose background is the village green, may be found in large numbers in such over-critical foreign cities as Vienna and Germany's own Dresden. "The national genius reveals itself in painstaking work," a native student of Czech character says, "rather than in flights of fancy." The ratio of poets to peasants is not high. In this village are only a couple of public officials. The village elder, '"starosta," has been selected by his neighbours because of his judicious temper and seasoned views. He knows the world, having spent several years in old Austria, and his opinions are listened to with respect. He solves contentious problems with matter-of-fact simplicity which the villagers appreciate fully.

THE PEASANT'S LIFE.

The local policeman, like the elder, is a half-time farmer. It would be difficult to give details about his constabulary duties. There is no need for a lockup in the village—the nearest one is in the town. The Czech language does not lend itself to effective shouting, and brawls are rare. Chance vagrants are not frequent and the selfdiscipline of the rural folk takes care of the local ordinances. "'The peasant's life is a round of griefs," the folk tune says, "but he bears his burdens lightly." His life all the summer day is in the fields which extend to his very windows. At night he returns to his supper—the traditional "knoedel," dumpling,, served with kraut. He eats meat, too, perhaps even roast goose, a favourite dish. A tall glass of Pilsen beer helps him appreciate the excellence of the food. Social life is mostly confined to the family. Czech village life has its roots in the "zadruga," the family community. Kinsmen form, a round-table. Common interests and traditions hold them together as they talk over their problems in the light of an electric | lamp—a recent acquisition. . J For more ambitious occasions the. Inn of the Crown provides the proper setting. There the villagers indulge in their favourite pastime—political discussion. ; The majority of the local farmers belong to the Agrarian Party, a minority are Socialists. One or two of, those present like to call themselves, i Communists. The two score <>£ Par-^

liamentary parties which dot the political landscape may differ on all minor points; they strongly agree on the need of strong national defence. In that respect the Communist holds particularly vehement opinions. THE LOVE OF PLEASURE. Leisure plays a role in the village, which bespeaks the Slav's love of pleasure. Since the place is too small to have a movie house of its own, the young ones take the bus to town, where they treat themselves to Hollywood's super-colossals of two years ago. Else they must wait until the ambulant cinema calls on its fortnightly rounds. On such nights the setting of the movie tent evokes memories of circus days. The farmers also like to see the educational films about progressive farming in America, shown by their own Agrarian Party. Rural festivals belong to the past, except for church feasts in certain parts of the country and a few remnants of traditional merrymaking. Choral music is the farmer's great favourite, but the radio has all but displaced the home-made music. "By its tunes thou shalt judge a nation," Karel Capek told the writer. The Czech countryside and town are enchanted by a blend of Vienna waltz, with a hint of German march, and Slavic nostalgia for the unknown set jto a lilting tune.

TOTALITARIAN OPPRESSION,

In the thoughts of the Czech village the totalitarian State is associated with oppression. The farmer wants to keep power in his own hands, and he does so through his. parties. Rural philosophy rejects the idea of a "Fuhrer" and deems the totalitarian State a denial of human rights. "The Czech farmer is an inveterate individualist," the late President Masaryk told a prominent German biographer. "His re-, spect for human life is too profound to make him yield to tyranny. He is eager to form a part of a State that makes him free, and not one that enslaves him." At the same time, he is nationalist. H. G. Wells, after a recent visit to Prague, expressed his surprise at the overwhelming nationalistic sentiment "The unused energies of hundreds of years accumulated in our patriots." President Masaryk said, "and sought realisation. This may explain the excesses of some of our friends after the giseat change came." For the Czech farmer nationalism sprang from an instinctive devotion to the soil. Memory keeps him informed about the tragic struggle for selfrealisation under the Habsburg rule. T,his new country of his has enabled him to work his own land. He knows his country, and how bountifully Nature has endowed it. He knows that it is coveted by have-not nations. "We shall not surrender!" is written as a permanent slogan on the blackboard of the village school. "Nedame Se!" The farmers' ■ features remain serene when they say: "Not one of us would stay home.' Men, women, children, cripples would fight for our country. We are not Austria!"