46 NAROD
state. Their designation by the Germans as Wasserpolaken or 'watered-down
Poles' does great injustice to their highly individual characteristics; but it does
reflect their limited interest in nationalist politics until the turn of the century.
In Russian Poland, national consciousness was much stronger. 'Russification'
campaigns had badly misfired. In contrast to Germany, the Russian state did not
possess the means or the understanding to educate the Poles into new ways. Yet
its massive powers of coercion were clear to all. It had survived the revolution-
ary years of 1905-7, and broken all political resistance. In the years before the
War, it seemed to be entering on a period of constitutional reform, and of vast
economic expansion. It seemed to offer great prospects for Polish enterprise,
especially in the economic and intellectual spheres. Many educated Poles,
despairing of any political progress, saw themselves as playing the part of the
Greeks to this new Rome. In Galicia, the situation was different again. The
pride of the Galician Poles in their strong Polish identity was mixed with deep
gratitude to the Habsburgs. In all three partitions, changing social patterns
strongly influenced political attitudes. The emancipation of the serfs and the
growth of education awakened whole new sections of society to the national
ideal. Jan Slomka (1842-193Z), from Dzikow on the Vistula, passed as he relates
'from serfdom to self-government'. As a young man, he had no idea that he was
a Pole. The local peasants on that part of the Vistula called themselves
'Mazury', i.e. Mazovians. In the tradition of the old Republic, only gentlemen
were thought of as Poles. On learning to read, however, and by participating in
Galician politics, Slomka eventually became enthusiastically aware of his Polish
identity.^48 The over-all picture, therefore, was exceedingly complicated. In
quantitative terms, Polish national consciousness had not diminished. There
were far more people who thought of themselves as Poles in 1914 than in 1814.
But the understanding of their Polishness was so varied, so fragmented by com-
peting loyalties and by differing social and economic interests, that it provided
no certain basis for concerted political action. Polish nationalism was smoul-
dering steadily, burning itself out in some areas, whilst spreading into others.
But it could not hope to burst into general public flame so long as the stifling
constrictions of the three empires remained intact. No consensus existed con-
cerning Poland's future prospects. A handful of diehard optimists continued to
believe that their country would rise once more, phoenix-like, from the flames.
But most sanguine observers, including many who were deeply sympathetic to
the Polish cause, felt it unlikely that Polish culture could survive indefinitely. In
1886, Georg Brandes sensed an impending crisis. 'For a hundred years', he
wrote, 'Poland has served as the anvil of three great powers, and has borne the
blows of the enormous hammers without being crushed. Either before very
long, the hammers will be stopped, or this culture will be annihilated.' Eight
years later, in 1894, he likened the conditions of the Poles to that of Harlequin
in the story by Prosper Merimee when he fell from a fifth-storey window. As
Harlequin passed another window on the third floor, someone asked him how
he felt. 'Pretty well,' he answered, 'provided that this continues.' 'We all know