Some Problems of the Peace Conference

by Charles Homer Haskins; Robert Howard Lord

The Italians do not deny that the great majority of the Dalmatian population has for centuries been of Slavic speech. But they assert that in almost every other respect this population is Italian: in its customs, costumes, games, in its artistic, literary, and musical tastes—even in its cuisine. The whole civilization of the province is Italian. Even as regards language, there is no real barrier: the Slavs are, most of them, bilingual, and even their own dialect is studded with Italianisms.

Thirdly, while admitting that the harmony which long reigned between the two races has, since 1866, given way to bitter enmity, the Italians declare that this was mainly the work of the Austrian government. Now that that influence is removed, and if the church, the school, and the gendarme are no longer used to stir up anti-Italian feeling, many Italians seem to believe that the Dalmatian Slavs could be won back to the old friendly relations and to peaceful acceptance of Italian rule. In any case, can Italy abandon those communities which remained faithful to her even during the period of Austrian persecution—that is, the capital, Zara, and some of the islands?

To understand Italian feelings on this subject, one must recall the long, agonizing, and—in the main—losing fight of the last forty years to save the Italian character of the Dalmatian cities. The struggle turned about control of the municipal councils, for it was they that decided what was to be the official language of the schools and the public services and which nationality was to set the tone and get all the favors in the community. The Austrians seem to have employed every form of corruption, fraud, and violence to sweep the Italians out of the municipalities. It is said that at the elections in Spalato in 1883 all the officials were ordered to vote Croat; the clergy also; a cruiser was sent to overawe the city; the election officials and the soldiery completed the intimidation of the voters; and it was thus that Spalato was lost to the Italians. One after another the other cities succumbed. Cattaro and Ragusa holding out bravely until 1900; and then only one Italian stronghold was left. That is why people in Rome speak of it as ‘Zara Italianissima’—any city that could defend itself so long must have a superlative character about its patriotism; and this is why the Italians have been so anxious to save at least that last bulwark of Latin Dalmatia.

Fourthly, the Italian argument dwells upon the geographic character of the province—shut off from Yugo-Slavia by rough and savage mountains, united to Italy by the sea over which practically all its external communications are carried on. Ratzel declared that Dalmatia lived like an island, and Freeman compared it to a branch cast forth from Italy across the Adriatic.

Finally, the Italians invoke strategic reasons for demanding at least a part of Dalmatia. The Adriatic Sea forms a narrow couloir, about 400 miles in length but in places scarcely 100 miles across. The western coast of that sea, the Italian side, is almost destitute of harbors that could serve as defensive naval bases; while on the eastern side the Dalmatian coast, with its many fine ports, its protecting chains of islands, its labyrinth of back channels and concealed inner basins, offers the most marvellous basis for naval operations. Obviously, the Italian fleet, with its bases at Venice and Pola at one end of the Adriatic and Brindisi at the other, would be at a grave disadvantage as against a naval power planted midway in the couloir in the impregnable strongholds of Dalmatia. And if it is said that Yugo-Slavia is never likely to have such a fleet as would be a serious menace, the Italians reply that even a small fleet of cruisers, lurking in the recesses of the Dalmatian coast, could be a scourge to Italian commerce and to the unprotected coast of Italy only three hours distant; and for submarine bases Dalmatia offers unrivalled advantages, as the World War has shown. Hence, it is argued, Dalmatia is necessary to Italy’s security. Without it, her long and vulnerable flank will remain undefended and indefensible.

I have tried to set forth the Italian side of the Dalmatian question at some length, because it is far less simple and obvious than the Yugo-Slav standpoint. Nevertheless, I am inclined to think that the latter case is the stronger. In view of the overwhelming Yugo-Slav majority and the attitude which, from whatever cause, the Dalmatian Slavs have come to adopt towards the Italians, the assignment of any considerable part of the province to Italy would, I believe, be a grave violation of the principles of the Allies, and a source of endless embarrassments for Italy.

After a year of discussions the Italian government has come to the point where, if it can obtain a satisfactory settlement as to Fiume, it seems willing to drop its claims to Dalmatia, except for a couple of points. For strategical purposes it still demands the island of Lissa, which Mazzini called “the Malta of the Adriatic”—a claim that seems not unreasonable; and it is also apparently asking that Zara should be constituted a free city—which might be of questionable advantage for Zara.

The main contest, then, is over Fiume.

Fiume is a rather small place in proportion to the commotion it has excited in the world—a city of about 50,000 people. Who founded it or when, we do not exactly know. It appears in the later Middle Ages as a small self-governing commune of the Italian type, which in 1465 passed under the suzerainty of the Hapsburgs, and was by them treated as a part of their hereditary Austrian lands until in 1776-79 Maria Theresia, wishing to endow the Magyars with a port of their own, transferred the city to the kingdom of Hungary. Amid all these changes, the ‘Magnificent Community’ of Fiume kept up its self-government and a very strong spirit of local independence. Indeed, down to a few years ago, at least, the only patriotism that the Fiumani knew was an intense love for their own little city. This spirit helped to preserve them from ever falling under the rule of Venice or any other Italian state; and, equally, it led them to fight strenuously at various times against the incorporation of their city in the kingdom of Croatia, which the Diet of Agram was always trying to put through. On the other hand, they long accepted with enthusiasm the union with Hungary, which did not seem to threaten their independence and which brought great economic advantages to their city as the single port of the Magyar kingdom.

As far back as we can trace it, the population of Fiume seems always to have been a mixed one—in part Croatian, in part Italian. It could hardly be otherwise with a city whose hinterland was solidly Croatian, but whose commercial relations were mainly with Italy. Hence it appears that the lower classes of the population were always chiefly Croats, constantly replenished from the country districts, while the upper classes were partly of the one race, partly of the other. But Italian was the language of society, of business, and of government, and to it the citizens were much attached. During the struggles of the period between 1848 and 1867, when annexation to Croatia was always staring them in the face, the municipal authorities again and again petitioned the Emperor not to permit the violation of “the sacred rights of the Italian language,” “the tongue that has been spoken here ever since Fiume existed.” “It would be superfluous,” they declare, “to demonstrate what is universally known, that in Fiume the Italian idiom has for centuries been the language of the school, of the forum, of commerce, of every public and private meeting; in short, it is the language of the community, and one of the chief sources to which it owes its grade of culture and of commercial and industrial progress.”