National Indifference in the Heyday of Nationalism
In the accounts of life in Austria-Hungary at the end of the nineteenth and the beginning of the twentieth century, one reads about a world dominated by nations and nationalism. Both contemporaries and historians describe a nationality conflict in which politics, economy, literature, music, journalism, sports, and science were all placed in the “service of the nation.” According to Helmut Rumpler, it was a time when even the once-powerful state and its bureaucracy were forced to withdraw in the face of different nationalisms.Footnote 1 Primary sources often paint a similar picture: A German from Celje/Cilli, Fritz Zangger, claims that in his home town even “the God of Germans and of Slovenes had nothing in common.”Footnote 2 Contemporary newspapers described incessant nationalist conflicts between Czechs and Germans, Germans and Slovenes, Slovenes and Italians, or Croats and Hungarians. Minutes of parliamentary sessions tell us about obstructionism carried out by nationalist parties, and in the War Ministry the “Disciplinary Measures to Prevent National Endeavours from Invading” [the Military] (Massregeln zur Verhütung des Eindringens nationaler Bestrebungen) grew longer every year.Footnote 3 Therefore, it is no surprise that descriptions of a different reality in which nationalism had hardly played a role, like those of the novelist Joseph Roth, were often dismissed as figments of a nostalgic imagination or depictions of a vanishing world.Footnote 4
Recent research, however, has unveiled a more complex and nuanced past. Despite the unrelenting efforts of nationalists, there was apparently still more than enough room in Imperial Austrian society and its institutions for national indifference, bilingualism, Austrian patriotism, dynastic loyalty, and similar practices.Footnote 5 Jaroslav Hašek's novelistic figure of the “amphibian” lieutenant Lukáš who spoke and wrote German, read Czech books as a closet Czech, and was “otherwise … a decent man” is no longer a figure at whom someone would poke fun or call names. Instead, his very “amphibianism” has recently become an object of scholarly analysis.Footnote 6 This new outlook toward those who do not appear to have fit a traditional nationalist mold has not been shaped simply by a new, more attentive reading of available sources or by the inclusion of hitherto overlooked ones, but rather by new thinking about nations and nationalism. If nations are “a perspective on the world” and not fixed groups, and if their level of groupness varies, as Rogers Brubaker has argued, then some level of national indifference will always have existed.Footnote 7
These new approaches offer a great impetus for further research that should answer several still unanswered questions about Central European society before World War I. For example, did such practices of indifference or amphibianism exist in times of crisis, when nationalist mobilization was at its peak and the choices were supposedly more limited? Was it still possible to remain an Austrian patriot or to take up a nationally indifferent position at such times? There also remains the question of how widespread national indifference was and whether it was a phenomenon mostly evident in bilingual areas, or if it also existed in regions where one language was spoken by a preponderant majority and fence-sitting was hardly possible because there was nobody on the other side of the fence. In this article, I will offer some answers to these larger questions by analyzing a set of events in Carniola and Styria from the year 1908. Admittedly, these events were localized in nature and therefore the answers may not be capable of generalization. Nonetheless, the analysis should add a few small pieces to the puzzle or at least help to focus future research.
The September Events of 1908
The sequence of events started on 12 September 1908, when the annual convention of the Slovene nationalist Society of St. Cyril and Methodius (Ciril-Metodova družba) had been scheduled to take place in the town of Ptuj/Pettau in Southern Styria. Locating the convention here constituted a Slovene nationalist attempt to stake a claim in a majority German-speaking town located in predominantly Slovene-speaking Southern Styria. Slovene nationalists were thus employing a typical tactic that was used by all kinds of nationalists in the Austrian half of the monarchy on numerous occasions. German nationalists, on the other hand, were determined to show that the Slovene activists were not welcome in what they saw as an undisputedly German town, one of the three “forts” in the so-called German “Fortress Triangle” (Festungsdreieck) of Southern Styria that included the towns of Maribor/Marburg and Celje/Cilli as well. Not unexpectedly, a scuffle broke out soon after the first train with the Slovene activists had arrived at the railway station. Blows were exchanged, but the police managed to calm the situation. The next day their efforts were not so successful. To the competing strains of the “Wacht am Rhein” and “Hej, Slovani,” a major riot broke out, ending only after the convention came to an end and the activists had left town.Footnote 8 German nationalists declared victory; the Slovenes saw the disruption of their convention as an insult to their national pride that had to be avenged.
Fuelled by newspaper reports and bellicose political rhetoric, a series of protests and scuffles among nationalists broke out in Ljubljana/Laibach, the capital of Carniola and the most important town with a Slovene-speaking majority. Finally, on the evening of 18 September, another riot developed on the heels of a rally. German street and shop signs were destroyed all over the town, houses of prominent German-speaking families, and the Casino, a favorite gathering place of the German-speaking minority, were pelted with stones. The riots continued for two days, ending only after the military fired on rioters, fatally wounding two of them on 20 September.Footnote 9 This put an end to the riots, but to Slovene nationalists it added greater insult to the injury. The Slovene press instantly turned the victims of the military into national martyrs. Their funerals became a nationalist demonstration attended by more than 20,000 people.Footnote 10 The events also drew attention from other parts of the monarchy. Slav nationalists saw in the actions of the military further proof of the government's pro-German orientation, whereas their German counterparts interpreted the riots as a brutal attack on the threatened German “national property” (Nationalbesitzstand). As such, they even figured in a memorandum that the president of the influential Pan-German Association (Alldeutsche Verband) in Germany sent to the German Foreign Ministry. Heinrich Claß claimed the riots in Ljubljana/Laibach and coincidental disturbances in Prague proved that the monarchy had fallen in to the hands of Slavs and as such could not serve as a reliable ally of the German Reich anymore.Footnote 11
It is no surprise that the violence helped strengthen nationalist sentiment among both German- and Slovene-speakers. Of course, the German and Slovene nationalists did everything they could to exacerbate the situation. Demonstrations and counterdemonstrations that reached as far as Vienna lasted for a month, the papers were full of stories about the alleged brutality of the “other side,” members of Parliament brought the matter to the Parliament, both sides published commemorative stamps, the Slovenes started raising funds for a memorial to the “martyrs,” and even published two plays—A Bloody Night in Ljubljana and National Martyrs—about the events.Footnote 12 In short, the usual battle to impose a nationalist interpretation of events on the public had begun.Footnote 13 Moreover, activists consciously took steps to widen the rift between the Slovene- and German-speaking communities. Ljubljana/Laibach had hitherto been known as a military-friendly town and one also where national conflict had not predominated. According to Heinrich Wieden von Alpenbach, an officer stationed there in the years 1893–1894, 1901–1904 and 1908: “The relationship with civilians was excellent. The Germans of Ljubljana/Laibach were already pushed against the wall and not represented in the municipal council, yet there were at that time no explicit national confrontations. German and Slovene productions alternated on the stage of the Provincial Theatre, officers and socialites frequented German as well as Slovene events.”Footnote 14
The accuracy of Wieden's depiction is confirmed by numerous other sources.Footnote 15 But the almost idyllic situation changed significantly after September 1908. The town council decided to replace the bilingual Slovene-German street signs with Slovene ones, and Slovenes were urged to sever the lively economic, cultural, and social ties that bound them to the German-speaking townspeople and to the local military garrison.Footnote 16 The informal boycott lasted several years and certainly had a negative effect on the relationship between both communities.
The events of September 1908 and their subsequent exploitation in the nationalist discourse also intensified a siege mentality among the German-speaking minority of Carniola and Lower Styria, thus increasing its potential identification with German-ness or German nationalism. The events in Ljubljana/Laibach were probably even more important for the expansion of Slovene nationalism, although later interpretations that attributed to them an almost mythical significance were certainly exaggerated.Footnote 17 In addition to the interpretation of these events within the framework of a struggle between Slavs and Germans, practical everyday measures, such as the replacement of Slovene-German with Slovene-only signs, undoubtedly strengthened the feeling of national belonging among Slovene-speakers.Footnote 18
The Veterans and the Slovene Language of Command
One of the most frequent reactions to the September events was the Slovenification of businesses, institutions, and associations. As early as October, even most Carniolan veterans' associations had either replaced German with Slovene as the language command in their organizations or were considering doing so.Footnote 19 One of these associations was the Carniolan Military Veterans Corps (Kranjski vojaški veteranski kor/Krainischer Militär-Veteranen-Korps) in Ljubljana/Laibach. Its members not only introduced the Slovene language of command, but also further decided to donate 150 crowns to a fund for those wounded and 50 crowns toward the memorial for those killed by the military.Footnote 20 A few days later, the commander of the 3rd Army Corps, General Oskar Potiorek, read an article about these decisions in the Grazer Tagblatt and immediately demanded a resolute response from civilian authorities.Footnote 21 The Carniolan provincial government investigated the matter and, together with the military, concluded that such actions were unacceptable for a veterans' association. At the beginning of 1909, the Carniolan Military Veterans Corps was dissolved by the governor, Landespräsident Theodor Schwarz, because it had adopted “a demonstrative decision against the armed forces.”Footnote 22 His decision was upheld by the Ministry of Interior which rejected all of the Corps' appeals.Footnote 23
Such a severe reaction is very understandable considering the role the veterans' associations played at the time. By the end of nineteenth and in the beginning of the twentieth century, they had evolved from mutual insurance associations to bastions of dynastic loyalty and critical sites for the production of Austrian patriotism. The associations not only fostered patriotic sentiments in their ranks, but were also an effective means of spreading them among the public, especially through their participation in patriotic festivities.Footnote 24 Because of that, the character and quality of their loyalty became increasingly important to the government and, with the help of provincial authorities the Ministry of the Interior, occasionally sought to determine if particular veterans' associations were indeed loyal and if they had been avoiding nationalist and political agitation.Footnote 25
It must have been a shock for the authorities and especially for the military when the Carniolan veterans voted to adopt the Slovene language of command out of protest. For the authorities, the German language of command was not just a practical means for deploying an effective and unified leadership. Far more than that, the language of command served as a symbol of the army's unity. It was supposed to act as a bulwark of Austrian patriotism against the onslaught of various nationalisms. Only the Hungarians had managed to assert the Hungarian language of command for their Honved or militia as part of the Compromise with Austria in 1868. But even they never managed to replace German with Hungarian in the Hungarian units of the Common Army (k. u. k. Heer).Footnote 26 Other attempts to introduce different languages of command were rejected even more resolutely by the emperor and the generals. When some Czech-speaking reservists deliberately began to use the Czech reply “zde!” instead of the German “hier!” on army maneuvers at the turn of the century, the emperor threatened to impose martial law on the Bohemian Lands if the practice were not discontinued.Footnote 27 Even during World War I, the military refused to allow the Slovene command language in a small Carniolan voluntary formation.
“If the Slovene language of command were introduced in the units of Carniolan Rifles, a very dangerous precedent would be established, because Slav members of Parliament could later claim that something that had been possible in this unit could be introduced in other units, too,” warned an anonymous pamphlet published by the Command of the South-Western front in 1916.Footnote 28
Although veterans' associations technically formed a part of civil society, the military and the Ministry for Local Defense were not prepared to let them freely decide which language of command they would use. The authorities' disapproval of a Czech-speaking association of veterans, which had otherwise been shunned by radical Czech nationalists because it was supposedly “anti-national,” clearly shows that any and all expressions of a national affiliation were understood as manifestations of a questionable loyalty. On the other hand, the radical nationalists perceived any and all departures from their agenda as evidence of an anti-national world view. Consequently, the persistent efforts by veterans to prove their Czechness were not sufficient to persuade the radicals they were Czech enough but were more than enough to persuade the military they were excessively Czech.Footnote 29 The military and radical nationalists obviously agreed on one thing: It was impossible to be loyal to the Austrian state and to a nation at the same time. Or as an anonymous radical Slovene nationalist put it in 1909: “Being a veteran and a Slovene in one person is not possible.”Footnote 30
Of course, Carniolan veterans had been fully aware of the importance and especially the symbolic timing of their decision, although they tried to portray it as a result of several years' deliberations. Such claims, however, obviously did not persuade the authorities, even though they had been accompanied by loud cheers for the emperor and assurances of the veterans' steadfast patriotism and loyalty.Footnote 31 General Potiorek was adamant: “The actions that threaten the loyalty of reservists and broad groups of population must be vehemently opposed.”Footnote 32
Nationalism, State Patriotism, Imperial Loyalty, National Indifference, and the Military Veterans
But were Potiorek and others entirely right in assuming that the loyalty of the veterans had been compromised beyond hope and that the Carniolan Military Veterans Corps therefore represented a dangerous nationalist outpost? Were the cheers for the emperor not professions of loyalty but an attempt to mislead the watchful guardians of true patriotism? Were they just meaningless gestures? The military certainly had no doubts that the veterans' actions had been motivated by Slovene nationalism and constituted an unforgivable breach of loyalty. Oskar Potiorek stated in his letter to the War Ministry that they had fallen under the influence of Slovene “nationalist propaganda,” particularly the “treacherous articles” of the liberal daily Slovenski narod (The Slovene Nation).Footnote 33
However, at least two other possible explanations come to mind. Firstly, it is quite possible that the veterans' professions of loyalty were sincere but their nationalism was not. In other words, one could hypothesize that the veterans had been under considerable social pressure to distance themselves from the military after the violent events of September 1908. At a time when Slovene nationalism reached a high point, they may well have decided that it was better to risk the wrath of the military than that of their predominantly Slovene-speaking fellow townspeople. Slovene nationalists may have been a bit less organized than the Czech nationalists, but they were nevertheless able to apply a fair amount of pressure on those they considered to be “national renegades.”Footnote 34 Secondly, the veterans might have been both moderate Slovene nationalists and Austrian patriots, loyal to the emperor. Whereas the military and the radical nationalists could not imagine such a combination of allegiances, the veterans stressed that the introduction of the Slovene language of command would only strengthen their patriotic feelings.Footnote 35
The paucity of sources does not allow for a more detailed analysis that could decisively show which of the three possibilities explains the veterans' actions best. Nevertheless, I would suggest that the third one is the most plausible. It is clear that in their decision to introduce the Slovene language of command, the majority of veterans were motivated by Slovene nationalism, as the unfavorable impression left by the army's unfortunate intervention obviously caused its surge, but at the same time, their avowals of loyalty and patriotism were most probably genuine. Several Slovene historians have maintained for some time that an overwhelming majority of Slovenes never experienced any antagonism between their Austrian state patriotism and their Slovene nationalism and that anti-Austrian nationalism was a minority view even as late as the period of the Balkan Wars.Footnote 36 And the research on Czech and Italian veterans' associations suggests that such a combination of allegiances was not uncommon especially among veterans. For them it was entirely normal to feel Czech or Italian and remain loyal to the state and its ruler.Footnote 37 Moderate nationalism and allegiance to the Austrian state did in fact coexist. One could even argue that this somewhat peculiar coexistence was not so much threatened by nationalism as it was threatened by the inability of important parts of the state administration and the military to acknowledge it. For that reason, all nationalist activities were interpreted as signs of disloyalty, which should be vehemently opposed by the state.Footnote 38 Such intransigence by the state increasingly alienated individuals who were in fact patriotic and loyal moderate nationalists. It alienated people who supported nationalist demands—for example, increasing the role of the Slovene language in education, administration, judiciary, and even the armed forces—but thought of Austria as their fatherland.
But even if the majority in the Carniolan Military Veterans Corps genuinely believed that the introduction of Slovene language of command was not at odds with their loyalty to the empire, a small minority obviously did not. According to the minutes of their meeting, some six members among approximately 150 present had not supported the decision. Regretfully, they did not indicate their motives at the time,Footnote 39 but their reasoning was partially revealed a year and a half later when some of them—headed by the last president of the dissolved association—and a few others got together to establish a new veterans' association, the Carniolan Warriors Corps (Krainisches Krieger-Korps). Its main goal was to foster patriotism and loyalty among veterans while remaining explicitly apolitical.Footnote 40 The authorities were full of hope that the new organization would assist Carniolans to retain “a good frame of mind” and lend a hand to the monarchy in “these menacing and serious times.” Their enthusiasm grew even stronger when they found out that veterans had chosen German for their language of command.Footnote 41 Because it is obvious from the documents that the members of this new veterans' association were Slovene-speaking, such a decision sheds some light on their viewpoints in September of 1908. In view of that fact, it is clear they were not German nationalists and consequently their opposition to the Slovene command language can only be ascribed to a form of national indifference. Whether they preferred German because of its symbolic significance or out of pragmatism is actually of little importance in this context. The mere fact that motives other than nationalism played a decisive role at a time of nationalist mobilization can only imply indifference.
Such a claim is of course dependent on a broad definition of indifference for it is very doubtful that the veterans were, for example, cosmopolites in their views or experiences. However, as Tara Zahra has argued persuasively, national indifference involves not only the absolute absence of national loyalties, but also a refusal to subscribe completely to the all-encompassing demands of the nationalists.Footnote 42 The analyzed event certainly fits the later part of the definition: The founders of the Krieger-Korps refused to enact one of the central demands of nationalists after the September events, the complete Slovenification of institutions. Therefore, their actions and reactions can be characterized as nationally indifferent, regardless of the fact that the sources do not tell us if they considered themselves to be Slovene, or if they had no national loyalties. I would argue that, above all, national indifference can be understood from what people do, from how they act and react in a given situation, and not from what they are. Analyzing this phenomenon, we should take to heart Rogers Brubaker's advice to avoid “groupism.” If nations are events and not fixed groups, then national indifference, too, must also be understood as variable and contingent; and if nations are perspectives on the world, then national indifference cannot be anything else. Thus, a seemingly paradoxical aspect of the broad definition of indifference can be explained. The fact that even nationalists can sometimes appear to be nationally indifferent—for even they sometimes failed to heed their own all-encompassing demands—seems illogical only as long as we perceive nations as fixed and exclusive you-are-either-in-or-you-are-out groups. But as soon as we see them in terms of an ever-changing “groupness,” to use Brubaker's terminology once more, the paradox is gone. The research on national indifference can then focus on the limits of nationalism and on situational factors that made people reject or avoid its demands.
The Slovene-speaking Population and National Indifference: Some Concluding Remarks
The September riots offer convincing arguments that state patriotism and dynastic loyalty were quite common among veterans of Ljubljana/Laibach, even at a time when one of the worst Slovene-German conflicts in the Habsburg period had built up Slovene nationalism to a previously unknown level. The majority of veterans still managed to combine Slovene nationalism with an allegiance to the Habsburg state at a time when some intellectuals had already begun writing and thinking about a growing divide between the Slovenes and the Austrian state.Footnote 43 This is not surprising, because such a combination of allegiances still prevailed in other parts of the Slovene-speaking population, too. Even during the waning months of World War I, the military censors noticed that a great majority of Slovene-speaking soldiers and POWs exhibited Austrian patriotism and imperial loyalty. This was far less common among officers, who were by then mostly reservists, recruited from the wealthier and better-educated strata of society.Footnote 44 Furthermore, a small minority of Slovene-speaking veterans acted in a way that can be characterized as nationally indifferent. This is especially interesting because this phenomenon has only recently been brought to the forefront of historical analysis. Even more interesting would be to see how this single case of apparent indifference fits into a larger context. Does national indifference among veterans tell us anything about such attitudes among the wider Slovene-speaking population at the time, or were the veterans an exception and therefore no inferences can be drawn out of their case?
Whether national indifference was still a viable option for Slovene-speakers at the beginning of twentieth century is certainly a question worth exploring. One of the most insightful and influential Slovene historians Vasilij Melik has pointed out that not everybody became German or Slovene as both nations took shape and that switching sides was not uncommon, but he assumed that such behavior had been characteristic only for the first stages of nationalization and that it had mostly ended well before the end of the nineteenth century.Footnote 45 Some other historians have at least hinted at the limits of nationalism; a decade ago, for example, Janez Cvirn drew attention to the fact that “there was always cooperation [between Slovenes and Germans], even at the times of the worst nationality conflict.”Footnote 46 But research, focused on such topics, is lacking or is still based on ethnicist assumptions.Footnote 47
The latter is certainly true for the great majority of research about the phenomena of the so-called “German-friendly Slovenes” from Southern Styria and Carinthia. The “Styrians” (“štajercijanci”) were especially active after 1900, when they started publishing a Slovene language paper Štajerc (The Styrian), and 1906, when they established a Progressive party (Napredna stranka). The paper and the party spoke in favor of Styrian provincial patriotism and coexistence between German and Slovene-speaking Styrians and against the domination of political Catholicism in Slovene politics. The “Styrians” were also strict opponents of Yugoslav nationalism, which was gaining ground among Slovene-speakers at that time.Footnote 48 The circulation of Štajerc (up to 15,000 copies) and the votes the Progressive party received in local and provincial elections demonstrate that such a program resonated among sizeable parts of the rural Slovene-speaking population of Southern Styria.Footnote 49 A comparable situation existed in Southern Carinthia, where a significant part of the Slovene-speaking population did not identify with Slovene nationalism. In contrast to the “Styrians,” they were not organized in a separate political group but aligned themselves with the German liberals and—increasingly—with the German-speaking Social Democrats.Footnote 50
Most Slovene historians have traditionally understood the “German-friendly Slovenes” as an historical anomaly. Assuming they had been “ethnic Slovenes” who should have evolved into national Slovenes under “normal” circumstance, they have put a lot of effort into the research of social, economic, and political factors that had supposedly “hindered” such a development.Footnote 51 Even though this research was based on unfounded ethnicist assumptions, it is still valuable. For if we change the perspective of analysis, we can still use the data to describe the actions of “Styrians” and “Windische” as nationally indifferent. Although both declared themselves to be “liberal Slovenes” on occasion, they in fact opposed Slovene nationalism. They supported the learning of German, opposed economic nationalism, and—above all—they opposed the most important goal of Slovene nationalists: the establishment of a “United Slovenia.” Such an attitude toward Slovene nationalism was not only a consequence of their traditional regional patriotism, although it unquestionably played an important role, but also a product of economic factors. The learning of German, for example, was seen as indispensable for artisans and peasants, who wanted to sell their products in German-speaking markets.Footnote 52
In Carniola, the only Habsburg land with a Slovene-speaking majority, national indifference was also evident, as we have seen in the case of the veterans; but by the turn of the century, it had no longer manifested itself in an organized action by “German-friendly Slovenes.” From about 1880, the Carniolan liberal Constitutional Society had abandoned its earlier proclaimed national indifference, as Slovene-speaking members had defected to the Slovene liberal party. The German nationalists increasingly dominated the organization, which eventually changed its name to the German Society in 1894.Footnote 53 The diminishing role of the German language in Carniolan society, the decline of the German-speaking population—in Styria and Carinthia, the trends were opposite—and the preponderance of Slovene nationalist parties in politics precluded any organization of “German-friendly Slovenes” in the two decades before the war.Footnote 54 Carniola was seen as uncontestably Slovene by all sides, and nationalist activists did not focus their efforts on the province.
Because of that, there had been less pressure on the people to demonstrate their national affiliation publicly, and consequently national indifference was almost unnoticeable. Historians, too, had simply assumed that the process of nationalization had been concluded and that everybody who spoke Slovene was also Slovene. However, even a cursory but open-minded reading of sources reveals that the veterans of Ljubljana were not the only Slovene-speaking Carniolans who acted in a non-national way even when nationalism surged. For example, in 1908, two Slovene-speaking patrons of a Ljubljana inn got in a fight because one had been shouting pro-Serbian slogans and the other demanded that he stop because, as he loudly proclaimed: “We are all Austrians and we have only one emperor and we are loyal to him!”Footnote 55 But whereas the cheers for the Serbian king and Serbia, frequent during the crisis over the Austro-Hungarian annexation of Bosnia and Herzegovina and the Balkan Wars, caught the attention of historians who interpreted them as signs of a stronger and more radical Slovene nationalism, the avowals and actions that were signs of state patriotism or even national indifference among the Slovene-speaking have been overlooked.Footnote 56 Similar statements were not that rare and although they might have been on the decline, their existence nevertheless should not be ignored. The motives and causes for such reactions surely need to be analyzed.
Certainly, only new research, informed by recent theorizing about such phenomena, will yield more definitive answers, but for now I would argue that in contrast to Carinthia or Styria from about the turn of the century if not sooner, social advancement, economic gains, or even pressure of local authorities were hardly important motives for producing a non-national attitude among Slovene-speakers in Carniola. If anything, those factors had exactly the opposite effect in the province, and something else must have played a role. Why did some Slovene-speaking Carniolans nevertheless refuse to subscribe to the nationalist paradigm? It is worth noting that the cases analyzed here involved similar actors: veterans and soldiers. This is important because the armed forces persistently tried to stem the tide of nationalism and emphasize state patriotism and imperial loyalty. We need especially to reevaluate the impact on society of the army's patriotic and dynastic propaganda, which has been minimized until recently.Footnote 57 As Laurence Cole has clearly shown in his work on veterans, state patriotism and imperial loyalty were quite effective in limiting the reach of nationalism in Trentino, and the case of Carniolan veterans surely demonstrates that their effectiveness was not limited to Tirol.Footnote 58
On the other hand, we should not forget that ideologies were not the only factors influencing the decisions of individuals. For example, the keen interest the leadership of the dissolved Carniolan Military Veterans Corps showed for the fate of its sizeable funds most certainly reminds us that some of the leaders probably acted pragmatically. After all, as a consequence of their vote in October of 1908, the veterans lost more than 20,000 crowns, collected primarily for the poor and sick veterans or for their widows and orphans.Footnote 59 As they must have been aware before the vote that such an outcome was possible or even probable, the possibility of sustaining a substantial financial loss surely played a role in the decision making of some veterans. Of course, ideologues denounced such pragmatism, but not everybody was willing or able to follow their advice even if the majority obviously was.