Munich was the final crushing blow. But it was also the moment of truth. The anguished days of watching, imploring, cajoling; the disbelief at the perfidy of friends and the betrayal of allies; the desperate hoping and then the loss of hope--all were finally over, and Czechoslovakia faced the enemy, alone. The nation's independence was in grave jeopardy; indeed, it was all but lost At that moment, Czechoslovakia's ideals of humanity, authentic or illusory, were cruelly tested. Would it prove to be a nation of Hus's truth, žiŽka's indomitability, Comenius's morality, Palacký's integrity, and Masaryk's spiritual purity? Or would it be a nation of former servants, whose short-lived freedom had failed to "deaustrianize" them and eliminate the centuries-old habit of "bending the spine"? No analyst can submit final answers to these questions; he cannot even be confident that the questions themselves are justified.
Munich has been called a tragedy, and it did have the structure of a Greek tragedy. But the heart-rending question is whether