Balkan Blunders

In Brief

The assassination of Arch Duke Franz Ferdinand started World War I, a horrific reminder that in the Balkans anything goes. Well, anything can go wrong. It took seven people to kill the guy, and not because they were trying particularly hard. See what happens when a bunch of damn kids try to change the world order and remind yourselves how easy it is to get Europeans to go to war.

Party On

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The lads here at History House have a simple wish: don't draft us to fight a European land war. Such concerns may well appear overblown, but in the light of Clinton's decision to launch attacks on Serbia, Europe seems a bit less stable. History does not teach confidence when the Balkans are involved. In fact the whole region seems to have a gift for turning history into a tragicomedy. Does anyone remember the 1914 assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand which launched the world into The Great War? History House does. In fact, we have a theory: all important assassinations are bungled at least once. We have chronicled the laughable attempts to murder Rasputin and President Garfield. Now it is time to talk about the accidental work of Mr. Gavrilo Princip, high school student, bookworm, and part time assassin.

The terrorists who took world history in their hands in the summer of 1914 were basically a bunch of damn kids. These seven conspirators were upset that the Austrian Empire had annexed Bosnia-Herzegovina in 1908. What better and more constructive way to air their grievances than to kill the heir to the Hapsburg throne, Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his innocent wife, Sophie Chotek? The rowdy chaps ranged in age from 17 to 27, and as many boys are, were members of a secret club -- in this case, The Black Hand. Had Cracker-Jacks already been invented, these erstwhile revolutionaries might well have kept their plans secret with those nifty plastic decoder rings; but as it was, the Serbian government found out. This presented the Serbs with a bit of a sticky wicket. No real friend of the Austrians, Serbia wouldn't mind if the whole Hapsburg family met with some sort of grim demise. But facts is facts: the Austrians would crush the whole of country if they found out it knew about the assassination. The unenviable task of messenger was given to the Serbian Minister to Vienna, Jovan Jovanovic.

Jovan was no hero in Vienna. His pan-Serb views had earned him plenty of enemies at the Austrian Foreign Ministry. But he had to tell someone. Cornering the Austrian Finance Minister, a Dr. Leon von Bilinski, he tried to play it coy. Perhaps the Archduke should not carry out his planned visit to Sarajevo, Jovan suggested, "as some young Serb might put a live rather than a blank cartridge in his gun and fire it." Finance ministers are not, in general, masters of diplomatic doublespeak. Dr. Leon missed the point completely, answering with a nervous "Let us hope nothing does happen." Smile and nod, Dr. Leon, smile and nod. Jovan returned to Serbia no doubt planning a great "I told you so" speech for the day after the assassination.

All that remained was the killing itself. In a move no doubt mimicked in today's sitcom writing sessions, the six Serbian chaps decided to round themselves out with a more politically correct mix by adding the Moslem son of a down and out Bosnian noble, one Mehmed Mehmedbasic. The morning of June 28th, 1914, found these rabble-rousers along the Archduke's planned parade route. Much like the token minority in aforementioned sitcoms, Mehmed did not add much to the mix: as first along the route, he chickened out. He got away only to be arrested in nearby Montenegro after bragging about his part in the assassination. The next candidate for fame was a young tyke named Vaso Cubrilovic. At the tender age of seventeen, the most rebellious thing he had done to date was to walk out of the Hapsburg anthem during high school. Afraid of hurting the Archduke's wife on accident, Vaso couldn't find the stomach either. In an interesting turn, Vaso was not eligible for the death penalty as a juvenile and after a sixteen-year prison term became a history teacher. Academic standards were apparently much higher in those times than these. The next would-be assassin claimed his eyesight gave out and he never saw the Archduke coming. Named Cvetko Popovic, this 18-year old student went on, after his short prison term, to become a museum curator.

The fourth in line, Nedelko Cabrinovic, managed to get his nerve up and lob a bomb at the Archduke's car. Sadly, he had no aim and hit a neighboring car, injuring several in the crowd quite badly but not harming the Archduke at all. Nedelko quickly swallowed a cyanide capsule and jumped in a nearby canal. Had Nedelko done a few calculations beforehand, it would have saved a great deal of embarrassment. The poison had long since expired and the river was only ankle deep. An angry crowd pulled the vomiting Cabrinovic from his chosen gutter. Hearing the bomb, the last three conspirators all assumed that their target had been killed and wandered off to a local pub to get drunk in celebration.

Furious, Franz Ferdinand confronted the mayor of Sarajevo at City Hall saying, "Mr. Mayor, one comes here for a visit and is received by bombs! It is outrageous!" The mayor looked around frantically and burst into his prepared speech: "Your Royal and Imperial Highness!...Our hearts are full of happiness..." Smile and nod, Mr. Mayor, smile and nod. Later in the afternoon, the Archduke decided to go visit the victims of the morning's bomb in the hospital. His confused driver, however, took a wrong turn and drove right past Schiller's -- the pub in which the other conspirators were busy drinking away.

Gavrilo Princip

Gavrilo Princip, a young revolutionary once turned down by the Serbian Army for being too "small and weak" raised his pistol, shot twice and killed the Archduke and his wife. Blood streaming from his mouth, the Archduke's last words were "Sophie! Sophie! Stay alive for the children!" Had Gavrilo not stayed and dawdled at the pub talking to a friend, the Archduke could very well have completed his stay in Sarajevo without further event. Whether this would have delayed World War I would be something the seven vomit-covered conspirators would contemplate for the rest of their lives.

How could such an insignificant event as the assassination of the heir apparent to the Austrian Empire start such a horrific war? That is a story best left for another day. But that the Balkans can start a war again is not in question. The Russians warn us today that they are prepared to take any measures, including military ones, to defend their interests in Europe. Not even History House will find amusement in that chain of events.

Bibliography

1. Henry Kissinger. Diplomacy. Touchstone, 1994.
2. Michael Shackelford. The Assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand. (referenced online at http://raven.cc.ukans.edu/~kansite/ww_one/comment/sarajevo.html) The World War I Document Archive, 1999.
3. Steven W. Sowards. Twenty-five Lectures on Modern Balkan History. (referenced online at http://www.lib.msu.edu/sowards/balkan/) Twenty-five Lectures on Modern Balkan History, 1999.

 
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