Standing atop the grand hill where the kings and queens of the land made their home, we look out over Prague. The turquoise domes and golden crucifixes twinkle and sparkle in the sunlight. The vast city of terracotta roofs, spiked towers and steeples seems to have no end. The castle guards’ heels ring against the cobblestones and a serious changing of the guard commences – each man trying not to crack a smile – a precise marking of the time. At this moment, the fifteenth-century astrological clock in Old Town’s Staromestské Námesti is whirling its celestial symbols, its sweeping hands marking the hour.
As we meander the multicolored cobblestone pathways toward Old Town, it is impossible to not be amazed at the sheer beauty of the city center. Streets are lined with baroque buildings of different shades. Each door has a unique and intricate décor; many edifices are covered with antique paintings. Gas lights silhouette the streets, throwing off a pleasant glow. Ancient churches loom over the town, their clock towers chiming the hourly reminder that the time to return to the flock is now. The churches are glorious in their baroque style – it seems God has dribbled an elaborate sandcastle from Heaven. The golden staffs, crucifixes, and keys of the apostles and saints create a constant glimmer. Our breath is taken away as we reach the shoreline of the river. Four bridges span over the sparkling waters, iridescent, like mirrors. Swans wade alongside the shore, awaiting a friendly toss of bread. The pleasure of feeding the ducks is enhanced by the threads of a jazz song, floating across the water – a present from a bridge musician. What a peaceful way to spend an afternoon!
The intense beauty of Prague makes it easy to forget that, not even twenty years ago, the Czech Republic was a Communist country. The Museum of Communism, a small but interesting museum near Wenceslas Square, brings a sense of recent history into this town of ancient beauty. After World War I, when Hitler had begun to threaten a takeover of Czechoslovakia, the Big Three made a deal with Hitler that he could only take over the boarders of the country. Three years later, Hitler had successfully taken over the entire nation. The late 1940s brought an end to World War II, and the Americans began to liberate Czechoslovakia, dropping care packages over the country. The Soviet Union assumed the liberation of the Czechs and took all the credit for the job. They began to place communist-minded leaders into key positions, turning the country into a communist nation oppressed by fear. Propaganda spurred the nation into the mindset that the laborer is heroic, always working long hours (for little pay) for the greater good of all society and the nation. This mindset was drilled into students by changing the entire education program. The media was restricted and anti-American and anti-capitalist propaganda flourished.
However, many remembered how the Americans had aided them in World War II and could not entirely believe that Americans would do such things as drop bugs upon Czech fields to create a potato famine, as the communist government had publicized. The communist regime worked to instill a fear of all things American; as time moved on and capitalism made many nations prosper, the government had to work harder and harder at suppressing its people. Secret police wire-tapped citizens’ phones and made numerous arrests. During the spring of 1968, the Czech nation attempted to become a more liberal communist country; this time became known as the Prague Spring. However, the Soviets forbade it, bringing military action upon the state. Students held marches for freedom, often with the military taking action against them. Today, the National Museum has numerous patched bullet holes from one of these student marches. On January 16, 1969, Czech university student Jan Palach set himself aflame “in order to wake people from lethargy following the August 21, 1968 occupation of Czechoslovakia by Warsaw Pact troops, which crushed the Prague Spring communist reform movement and paved the path for communist hardliners' takeover[1].” February 25, 1969 brought yet another student death; Jan Zajic, feeling that the nation was returning to its old ways after the death of Palach, set himself aflame near Kind Wenceslas Square. Leaving behind a poem about Palach and four letters, he became one of seven who died in an attempt to bring change to communist Czechoslovakia[2]. With the arrival of Gorbachev, the Iron Curtain fell, and in 1989, Czechoslovakia became a republic once again.
A five-minute walk outside the Museum of Communism lead us to the site of the student marches, the burnings, and later the site of Czech celebrations as Czechoslovakia became the Czech Republic – King Wenceslas Square. A plaque near the statue commemorates the death of both Palach and Zajic. Before our visit to the museum, we had crossed through this square numerous times, seeing only a grand statue, exceptional buildings, frequent casinos, and the wide street divided by a great center stroll-way, complete with rosebushes and monuments. It is study of recent history that brings new meaning and understanding to this fairytale city. Another example of interesting historical background is the Lobkovický Palác, just a tram ride away from Wenceslas Square.
The Lobkowicz family, of most noble Bohemian heritage - a family of princes, ambassadors, high chancellors, and dukes - owned the magnificent residence inside Prague’s Castle walls from the beginning of the 17th century. The Palace became an important place of cultural history, housing meetings, artwork, and famous artists’ performances. The Seventh Prince of Lobkowicz is well known as ‘Beethoven’s most generous benefactor,’ to whom he dedicated over three symphonies. The mansion was passed from prince to prince, down the family line, for over three hundred years; but, during World War II, the Nazis confiscated the Lobkovický Palác and all other Lobkowicz property holdings in response to Maximilian’s[3] underground role as the Ambassador to Great Britain for the Czechoslovak government. After the war ended, the Lobkowicz family regained all their holdings and possessions, only to have them confiscated once more by a new regime – the communists! The Communists had control of the Lobkowicz properties and possessions for forty years, allowing these historical gems to become dilapidated.
Once the communist regime fell, it took twelve years of battling for the Lobkowicz family to regain most of their properties from the Czech Republic (something many wealthy Jewish families have been unable to do in countries all over Europe). In 2002, the Lobkowiczes reclaimed the Lobkovický Palác and spent three years remodeling, renovating, and restoring both the palace and its treasures. And today, I stand marveling at the newly-refurbished palace, nestled so close to Prague Castle upon the hilltop that the Catholic Imperial Ministers, thrown from the Castle’s windows by Protestant revolutionaries in 1618, could pull themselves to safety inside the Palace walls. I am thrilled to report that the generous Lobkowicz family has opened its home, filled with original paintings, compositions, and documents, to the public[4]!
[1] This quote can be found at: http://www.czech.cz/en/news/domestic-news/meeting-marks-anniversary-of-czech-students-death-in-1969/
[2] More about these deaths can be found at: http://archiv.radio.cz/palach99/eng/
[3] Maximillian is the son of the tenth Prince Lobkowicz – he would have become the eleventh Prince Lobkowicz, but Czechoslovakia eradicated hereditary titles in 1918
[4] All information on the Lobkowitz family mentioned here can be found at the family website: http://www.lobkowicz.org/php/group.php?id=1 ; http://www.lobkowiczevents.cz/palace/index.html ; and http://www.lobkowiczevents.cz/palace/history-lobkowicz-family.html
As we meander the multicolored cobblestone pathways toward Old Town, it is impossible to not be amazed at the sheer beauty of the city center. Streets are lined with baroque buildings of different shades. Each door has a unique and intricate décor; many edifices are covered with antique paintings. Gas lights silhouette the streets, throwing off a pleasant glow. Ancient churches loom over the town, their clock towers chiming the hourly reminder that the time to return to the flock is now. The churches are glorious in their baroque style – it seems God has dribbled an elaborate sandcastle from Heaven. The golden staffs, crucifixes, and keys of the apostles and saints create a constant glimmer. Our breath is taken away as we reach the shoreline of the river. Four bridges span over the sparkling waters, iridescent, like mirrors. Swans wade alongside the shore, awaiting a friendly toss of bread. The pleasure of feeding the ducks is enhanced by the threads of a jazz song, floating across the water – a present from a bridge musician. What a peaceful way to spend an afternoon!
The intense beauty of Prague makes it easy to forget that, not even twenty years ago, the Czech Republic was a Communist country. The Museum of Communism, a small but interesting museum near Wenceslas Square, brings a sense of recent history into this town of ancient beauty. After World War I, when Hitler had begun to threaten a takeover of Czechoslovakia, the Big Three made a deal with Hitler that he could only take over the boarders of the country. Three years later, Hitler had successfully taken over the entire nation. The late 1940s brought an end to World War II, and the Americans began to liberate Czechoslovakia, dropping care packages over the country. The Soviet Union assumed the liberation of the Czechs and took all the credit for the job. They began to place communist-minded leaders into key positions, turning the country into a communist nation oppressed by fear. Propaganda spurred the nation into the mindset that the laborer is heroic, always working long hours (for little pay) for the greater good of all society and the nation. This mindset was drilled into students by changing the entire education program. The media was restricted and anti-American and anti-capitalist propaganda flourished.
However, many remembered how the Americans had aided them in World War II and could not entirely believe that Americans would do such things as drop bugs upon Czech fields to create a potato famine, as the communist government had publicized. The communist regime worked to instill a fear of all things American; as time moved on and capitalism made many nations prosper, the government had to work harder and harder at suppressing its people. Secret police wire-tapped citizens’ phones and made numerous arrests. During the spring of 1968, the Czech nation attempted to become a more liberal communist country; this time became known as the Prague Spring. However, the Soviets forbade it, bringing military action upon the state. Students held marches for freedom, often with the military taking action against them. Today, the National Museum has numerous patched bullet holes from one of these student marches. On January 16, 1969, Czech university student Jan Palach set himself aflame “in order to wake people from lethargy following the August 21, 1968 occupation of Czechoslovakia by Warsaw Pact troops, which crushed the Prague Spring communist reform movement and paved the path for communist hardliners' takeover[1].” February 25, 1969 brought yet another student death; Jan Zajic, feeling that the nation was returning to its old ways after the death of Palach, set himself aflame near Kind Wenceslas Square. Leaving behind a poem about Palach and four letters, he became one of seven who died in an attempt to bring change to communist Czechoslovakia[2]. With the arrival of Gorbachev, the Iron Curtain fell, and in 1989, Czechoslovakia became a republic once again.
A five-minute walk outside the Museum of Communism lead us to the site of the student marches, the burnings, and later the site of Czech celebrations as Czechoslovakia became the Czech Republic – King Wenceslas Square. A plaque near the statue commemorates the death of both Palach and Zajic. Before our visit to the museum, we had crossed through this square numerous times, seeing only a grand statue, exceptional buildings, frequent casinos, and the wide street divided by a great center stroll-way, complete with rosebushes and monuments. It is study of recent history that brings new meaning and understanding to this fairytale city. Another example of interesting historical background is the Lobkovický Palác, just a tram ride away from Wenceslas Square.
The Lobkowicz family, of most noble Bohemian heritage - a family of princes, ambassadors, high chancellors, and dukes - owned the magnificent residence inside Prague’s Castle walls from the beginning of the 17th century. The Palace became an important place of cultural history, housing meetings, artwork, and famous artists’ performances. The Seventh Prince of Lobkowicz is well known as ‘Beethoven’s most generous benefactor,’ to whom he dedicated over three symphonies. The mansion was passed from prince to prince, down the family line, for over three hundred years; but, during World War II, the Nazis confiscated the Lobkovický Palác and all other Lobkowicz property holdings in response to Maximilian’s[3] underground role as the Ambassador to Great Britain for the Czechoslovak government. After the war ended, the Lobkowicz family regained all their holdings and possessions, only to have them confiscated once more by a new regime – the communists! The Communists had control of the Lobkowicz properties and possessions for forty years, allowing these historical gems to become dilapidated.
Once the communist regime fell, it took twelve years of battling for the Lobkowicz family to regain most of their properties from the Czech Republic (something many wealthy Jewish families have been unable to do in countries all over Europe). In 2002, the Lobkowiczes reclaimed the Lobkovický Palác and spent three years remodeling, renovating, and restoring both the palace and its treasures. And today, I stand marveling at the newly-refurbished palace, nestled so close to Prague Castle upon the hilltop that the Catholic Imperial Ministers, thrown from the Castle’s windows by Protestant revolutionaries in 1618, could pull themselves to safety inside the Palace walls. I am thrilled to report that the generous Lobkowicz family has opened its home, filled with original paintings, compositions, and documents, to the public[4]!
[1] This quote can be found at: http://www.czech.cz/en/news/domestic-news/meeting-marks-anniversary-of-czech-students-death-in-1969/
[2] More about these deaths can be found at: http://archiv.radio.cz/palach99/eng/
[3] Maximillian is the son of the tenth Prince Lobkowicz – he would have become the eleventh Prince Lobkowicz, but Czechoslovakia eradicated hereditary titles in 1918
[4] All information on the Lobkowitz family mentioned here can be found at the family website: http://www.lobkowicz.org/php/group.php?id=1 ; http://www.lobkowiczevents.cz/palace/index.html ; and http://www.lobkowiczevents.cz/palace/history-lobkowicz-family.html
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