Sounds and sights of the Great War in Prague

For a long time now, the First World War has been more than just a matter of military history. Historians have come to recognize that the lives of civilians were significantly affected by the conflict – not necessarily on battlefields, but also in places far removed from the direct violence of war. Geographical distance to the artillery fire and trenches of the “Great War” could not protect the inhabitants of the states involved in the conflict from hardship and suffering. Hundreds of thousands of people faced challenges brought on by unprecedented warfare, particularly shortages of essential goods. Consequently, various aspects of the so-called “inner front” are gaining increasing attention in historiography.¹ Similarly, the impact of wars on large cities is not an entirely new topic, even within the context of Habsburg Austria.² Contributing to this historiographical tradition, historian Claire Morelon offers her brilliant new book titled Streetscapes of War and Revolution: Prague, 1914–1920.

Morelon’s book is based on a significantly revised doctoral thesis, which was defended at the University of Birmingham and Institut d’Études Politiques in Paris. Those familiar with the author’s other publications will recognize that this research is the result of years of intensive work and consultations with prominent specialists in the field of late Habsburg and urban history.³ The years of refinement have paid off, as Morelon presents an exceptionally well-written and insightful work that stands out on both scholarly and stylistic levels.

The main aim of the book is straightforward: to show the impact of the “Great War” on the population of Cisleithanian cities, specifically Prague. As Morelon writes, the capital of Bohemia offers an interesting case study, being the second largest urban area in Habsburg Austria, and the largest center of Czech-speakers in the monarchy. Simultaneously, it was distant from the battlefields throughout the war (p. 5). However, the research seeks not only to understand the everyday of wartime but also the changing relationship of the inhabitants to the city and the state. In doing so, Morelon engages in fundamental debates concerning questions of patriotism, state legitimacy, and citizenship, challenging traditional narratives, particularly issues of social mobilization. This way, the author critiques the often-repeated thesis that mobilization at the end of the “long” nineteenth century was impossible without nationalism. At the same time, Morelon shows how, through a complicated and non-linear development, the Habsburg state slowly lost its legitimacy.

How these questions are answered is central to the book. The main theoretical tool is the concept of streetscape and urban space. Unlike in many other books, the city does not simply represent a kind of boundary that geographically defines what will and will not be explored. For Morelon, the city is a crucial analytical element, arguing that “recapturing the spirit of the time starts with the materiality of the street.” According to the author, the city mirrors the political and social changes occurring in the state. Consequently, the streetscape is presented as an “agent in the story of war and regime change” (p. 17). Most importantly, Morelon succeeds in the difficult task of using the urban space as a conceptual lens.

In six seemingly wide-ranging chapters, Morelon shows how the streetscape, as a medium of social upheaval and legitimacy, changed during the First World War. While the first chapter focuses on the militarization of Prague, the second analyzes the manifestations of patriotism. Initially, Morelon shows the encounters between civilians and the military. Coexistence is presented as often complicated, especially due to the special status that the army usurped for itself, but also because of the often-unjustified distrust of the commanders towards the Czech population of the Bohemian metropolis. In the second chapter, Morelon questions whether patriotism was insincere or even imposed on the Czechs in Prague. The author shows how support for the state and the army, at least in the early years of the war, was a widely supported cause. It was promoted by national organizations such as the Sokol – even after it was banned during the war.

The third chapter is particularly fascinating because it addresses both military and civilian victims of war within Prague’s streetscape. In particular, the changing relationship of Prague’s citizens towards war refugees from Galicia seems relevant from today’s perspective. Studying the growing and often unjustified hostility towards people in need seems increasingly important in the wake of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. The arguments used in Prague between 1914 and 1920 appear strikingly similar to those seen today.

While the first two chapters are anchored primarily in the first two years of the war, each of the following chapters shifts gradually, both thematically and temporally. The fourth chapter, dealing with the critical issue of food and commodity shortages, is thus largely positioned in the last two years of the war and the post-war period. The fifth and sixth chapters are set primarily in the last year of the conflict when the “home front” began to crumble. While the fifth chapter shows the consequences of discontent caused by hardship and hunger in the form of demonstrations and riots, the sixth and final chapter shows the thorny path of society towards accepting the new state. This final chapter sheds light on an often-overlooked part of Czech history, showing how the founding of the republic did not fulfill the desire of many people for rapid change. Morelon shows that even the new state ideology struggled to overcome the difficulties described in previous parts of the book. As a result, many people were disappointed with the new republic and its continuities with the “old” monarchy.

Each chapter, which comes with its own sub-set of research questions, is well prepared and supported by extensive research in archives in Prague and other towns. Morelon’s argumentation is logical and easy to follow. Moreover, the thread, which is the aforementioned conceptual notion of “streetscape”, connects all the chapters very well. Even a few minor linguistic/factual errors (for example, the author of the monument to historian František Palacký was Stanislav Sucharda, not “Slanislav Suchard”, p. 127) cannot harm the indisputable value of the book.

Beyond its undeniable scholarly quality, Streetscapes of War and Revolution is an extraordinary book for its readability and vividness. Morelon successfully transports to and immerses readers in the Prague of 1914–1920, depicting not only the streetscape of hunger and crisis but also that of sadness and joy, tension and confusion. This aspect of the book is strongly supported by numerous aptly chosen and placed visual supplements and examples from ego documents. These show that the phenomena the author describes were experienced and felt by a large part of Prague’s population. Similarly, the cases, set apart in dedicated sections/boxes throughout the book, help convey the visual and often also auditory atmosphere of Prague during the war years. For this reason, I believe this fascinating book will become a foundational contribution to understanding the experience on the “home front” during the First World War.