It goes without saying that our Carpathian homeland is and always has been an ethnically diverse region in Europe. Slovaks, Rusyns, Poles, Romanians, Ashkenazi Jews, Czechs, Romani People, Hungarians, Ukrainians, and even Germans inhabited the areas of the Carpathian Mountain Range for centuries. Although ethnic relations throughout history are always tumultuous, those living in the Carpathian region enjoyed relatively peaceful relations with each other.
The Carpathians also provided a tough, yet quiet and peaceful life to those that migrated to the region in the Late Middle Ages and Early Modern Period. By the 17th century, most historical Rusyn communities had been established in the region. Migrations of Rusyns into the Carpathian homeland occurred between the 13th and 17th centuries. The Carpathian Germans, or Karpatendeutsche, are a lesser-known group of inhabitants of the region. Their lesser-known status is primarily since today, there really aren’t many of them left. One would logically assume that many of these Germans were perhaps Austrians that settled during the times when the Hapsburg Crown controlled the realm of the Carpathians. And while this is the case in a few scenarios, the story of the Carpathian Germans reaches back to the Middle Ages. The fate of the Karpatendeutsche is quite disheartening and is a reminder to Rusyns that ethnic chauvinism can ultimately lead to a brutal demise of an entire ethnic group.
The Carpathian Germans are part of a larger group of German diasporas that, over the span of roughly half a millennium, settled all over Eastern Europe.
As portrayed by the map, Germans were, quite literally, everywhere in Eastern Europe at one point. Germans were settled into territories even as far east as the Volga River. There is a multitude of reasons why so many Germans were once inhabitants of historically Slavic lands. In the Middle Ages, the many Teutonic Knights of the Northern Crusades would settle in the Baltic region and north-central Europe. The Hanseatic League of the Middle Ages, a trade partnership in the Baltic Sea, also spread Germans and Germanness into the region. The Black Plague, which depopulated many parts of Europe, also saw the migration of Germans into these regions.
In the specific case of the Carpathian Germans, many came during a similar timeframe as some of the earliest Rusyn migrants. Most of the Carpathian Germans settled into the region between the 11th and 15th centuries. This mostly occurred after the year 1251, when the Hungarian Crown welcomed new settlers into the region for two reasons. For one, in the aftermath of the Mongols, that ravaged and depopulated all of Central and Eastern Europe, especially Upper Hungary. Secondly, the Hungarian Crown wanted to protect the borderlands of the Kingdom with populated communities to act as a buffer between the Hungarian population and outside invaders. Thus, the Crown invited various ethnic groups to come and inhabit these lands, which at this point were rather unpopulated and not well trekked even before the Mongol Invasions occurred. The specific appeal of German settlers for the Crown was that they were typically well-known to be excellent crafts and tradesmen and would often work in silver mines as well.
The largest settlements were in Spis county as well as the region near Mukachevo. Additional large settlements were present all over the Carpathian region of Romania as well. Smaller settlements existed in what is now today west-central Slovakia near Kremnica, a region known for its gold and silver mines. These maps give a good idea of where they were located, specifically within the borders of modern Slovakia.
As you can see, their population was quite significant in the early 20th century. Several villages in Northern Saris and Zemplin that were historically Rusyn also seem to have had a minority of Germans living within them.
Historically, the Carpathian Germans had a significant amount of power in the realm of politics within the realm. This was especially the case during the height of the Hapsburg reign, when German was seen as a language of the upper classes throughout the Hapsburg Empire. Although this wasn’t always the case, the Germans were naturally elevated to a higher social class purely because of the linguistic and ethnic background. This didn’t last long, as the establishment of the Dual-Monarchy following the Revolutions of 1848 put the majority of Carpathian Germans within near total Hungarian rule. Thus, the Carpathian Germans, along with the Rusyns and Slovaks, weren’t immune to the intense Magyarization policies of the late 19th century. Interestingly, many Germans voluntarily Magyarized themselves, oftentimes to retain a higher social status within the nation.
Following World War 1, many Carpathian Germans actually preferred to remain loyal to the Hungarians, as the majority of their population found themselves in the new Czechoslovakia. One can assume the reason why the Carpathian Germans are almost gone is essentially the aftermath of the Second World War where major resettlement of ethnic groups occurred. Hitler’s rhetoric often spoke of the Germans living in Eastern Europe as proof that this region of Europe should be incorporated into the Greater German Empire as part of the Lebensraum, or “living space” for the German people, or Lebensraum. During the 1930s, the Carpathian German Political Party oftentimes allied itself with the rhetoric of the Nazis, like the Sudeten German Party.
During the war, the Slovak State was a client state of Hitler’s Germany. So as the Red Army was approaching Czechoslovak territory, Nazi leadership evacuated many of the Carpathian and Spis Germans to Sudetenland or to Germany itself. Thus, the depopulation began during the War. After it, about a third of the Germans attempted to return to their homes. However, hatred towards Germans and Germanness itself was incredibly rampant throughout Eastern Europe in the immediate aftermath of the war. This culminated in major ethnic tensions, which often ended in bloody violence.
In June of 1945, an incident known as the Prerov incident occurred in Czechoslovakia. Many Germans were on their trek back to their homes in the Carpathians at this time, and while stopping at a railway station, 265 Germans, which included men women, and children, were brutally murdered by Czechoslovak soldiers. They were forced to dig their own graves. The saddest aspect of this story is that this massacre was hidden from the public and did not become publicly known until after the 1989 revolution.
Later that year, the Carpathian Germans all lost their rights to Czechoslovak citizenship, and many were interned in Camps. In a short amount of time, most of the Germans were deported to Germany. There were several thousand that were allowed to stay; however, they were subjugated to strict and radical Slovakization. Only then, when they fully adopted the Slovak language, culture, and names, were they allowed to regain citizenship. By the end of the 1940s, only 15% of the prewar Carpathian German population remained in Slovakia. And out of those that remained, only a handful retained their German identity, language, and heritage, albeit in secret.
The plight of the Carpathian Germans and Rusyns shares many similarities during the Communist Era. One difference is however that the Rusyns never really faced deportation on a large scale, as compared with the Germans. However, many Rusyns and Germans both, if they wanted to retain their language, had to speak it in private. Rusyns faced simultaneous Ukrainization and Slovakization. So, speaking Rusyn in the village and between villagers was frequent, although on an official basis, the language they were speaking was considered Ukrainian. The Germans had to essentially limit their German language to within the home, and even then, it was still dangerous. German itself was banned as a public language in Czechoslovakia following the war.
The one well-known Carpathian German community that remains in Slovakia is Chmel’nica, or Hopgarten. Chmel’nica is actually surrounded by Rusyn villages and just a town away from Stara Lubovna. Matyosva, the home village of my grandparents, is right next to Chmel’nica. I was told stories that the way the Germanness of Chmel’nica was retained was through the hiding of residents during the immediate aftermath of the war, and the adoption of full Slovak identities by the majority of residents, but secret and underground German classes were being provided to children.
I actually have some family in Chmel’nica, my mother’s one cousin married into a Carpathian German family. I visited the town before. Its Germanness is, even today, very subtle. Most conversations people would publicly have would be in Slovak. From my understanding, German is still only reserved to the status of a language within the home.
The fate of the Carpathian Germans teaches us a lesson in the modern day. It is quite thought-provoking to understand that only a hundred years before the Second World War, Germans were considered some of the highest ethnic groups on the social ladder. But in the aftermath of the war, they were seen as an evil nuisance. This phenomenon could happen to any ethnic group. Rusyns, although we were always considered on the lower tier of social groups in our realm, could face this sort of variability in the future. All the majority ethnic group needs is a scapegoat in order to oppress another group of people.
Today, there are only about 5,000 Carpathian Germans left in Slovakia. While Rusyns themselves aren’t in nearly as bad of a situation as the Germans, their fate could be an indication of what our fate could’ve been if Rusyns in the diaspora and in the homeland didn’t preserve their culture. Further, the Second Great Awakening of Rusyns following the Fall of Communism essentially guaranteed a future for us. The Carpathian Germans never had an awakening, so their future is not only uncertain but likely nonexistent. For us Rusyns, we have the potential for a promising future as an ethnic minority, as long as we actually take advantage of the opportunities provided by our ancestors.