The Crucible of National Awakening: Habsburg Galicia Before 1914

In the twilight years of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, the Ukrainian national movement in Galicia presented a striking contrast to its counterparts under Russian rule. While Lithuanian activists in the northwest territories of the Russian Empire operated under severe restrictions, their Ukrainian counterparts in Austrian Galicia enjoyed unprecedented political freedoms that would shape the course of Eastern European history.

Galicia’s Ukrainian population, numbering in the millions, dwarfed the less than two million Lithuanian speakers under Tsarist rule. More significantly, these Ukrainians possessed rights unimaginable under Russian domination: participation in parliamentary elections, formation of legal political associations, and publication of Ukrainian-language materials. The Habsburg monarchy’s relatively democratic framework allowed modern national identities to crystallize, with universal male suffrage emerging as a powerful tool for Ukrainian peasant leaders.

The Greek Catholic Church became an institutional backbone for Ukrainian nationalism as clergy transformed it into a national institution. Simultaneously, secular elites began articulating visions of an independent Ukrainian state. This ferment occurred against the backdrop of declining Polish aristocratic dominance, as democratic practices increasingly privileged ethnic identity over traditional noble privileges in this multi-ethnic borderland.

World War I: Catalyst for National Aspirations

The outbreak of war in 1914 transformed Galicia into a battleground between Austria-Hungary and Russia, accelerating Ukrainian nationalist ambitions. Vienna’s persecution of Russophile Galicians inadvertently strengthened Ukrainian national consciousness by eliminating pro-Russian alternatives. Galician Ukrainian politicians in the imperial capital began advocating for carving Ukrainian territories from Russia to create an independent state closely aligned with an autonomous Eastern Galicia.

The February Revolution of 1917 and subsequent Ukrainian National Republic proclamation in Kyiv appeared to validate these aspirations. Woodrow Wilson’s rhetoric of self-determination after America’s April 1917 entry into the war further galvanized Galician Ukrainians. Optimism flourished that regardless of the war’s outcome, Ukrainian statehood seemed within reach.

The Achilles’ Heel: Cities and the National Question

Ukrainian nationalism’s fundamental weakness lay in its urban deficit. Any viable state required a capital, and Lviv (Lemberg) represented the obvious choice for Western Ukraine. However, demographic realities complicated this vision. According to 1900 Austrian census data, over 52% of Lviv’s population identified as Polish, with Polish-speaking residents constituting 75.4%. The city embodied Polish cultural triumphs – within two generations, its institutions had transitioned from German to Polish linguistic dominance.

When Austria-Hungary collapsed in 1918, Polish control of Lviv became the linchpin of their claim to Eastern Galicia, where they formed a minority in only one of 44 districts – Lviv itself. Polish elites viewed the city as both an ancient Polish relic and proof of modern Polish civilizing mission, making its relinquishment unthinkable.

1918-1920: The Bitter Fruits of War and Revolution

The dramatic events of October 31, 1918, when Ukrainians seized key Lviv buildings, only highlighted their strategic disadvantage. Polish forces, including Józef Haller’s battle-hardened army from France, crushed the Western Ukrainian People’s Republic by July 1919. This conflict claimed 15,000 Galician Ukrainian lives and entrenched anti-Polish sentiment among a generation of embittered veterans.

Meanwhile, the competing Ukrainian People’s Republic in Kyiv collapsed due to ideological divisions, weak institutions, and military pressure from both Bolsheviks and Whites. The 1921 Treaty of Riga between Poland and Soviet Russia partitioned Ukrainian territories without consulting Ukrainian representatives, leaving three million Ukrainian speakers under Polish rule in Galicia and Volhynia.

The Interwar Crucible: Nation-Building Under Polish Rule

Polish policies in Galicia oscillated between harsh assimilation attempts and intermittent accommodation. The 1924 “Grabski Law” replaced Ukrainian-language schools with bilingual (effectively Polish) institutions, alienating younger generations. While Soviet Ukraine initially pursued Ukrainization policies in the 1920s, Stalin’s brutal reversal – including the Holodomor famine that killed millions – made Polish rule appear comparatively less oppressive.

Galicia became the incubator for radical Ukrainian nationalism, culminating in the 1929 formation of the Organization of Ukrainian Nationalists (OUN) in Vienna. This underground movement, dominated by Galician veterans, embraced terrorism against Polish officials and “collaborationist” Ukrainians while cultivating ties with Nazi Germany.

Volhynia: The Other Ukraine

The contrasting situation in Volhynia revealed the complexity of Ukrainian identity under Polish rule. Unlike nationally conscious Galicians, Volhynian peasants initially displayed little nationalist sentiment. However, Polish land reforms favoring ethnic Polish settlers and the arrival of administrators from Poland proper gradually nationalized social conflicts. Soviet propaganda exploited these tensions, while Ukrainian activists from Galicia worked to awaken national consciousness.

Henryk Józewski’s experiment in “state assimilation” attempted to cultivate Ukrainian patriotism within a Polish framework, but ultimately failed to reconcile competing national projects. By the late 1930s, with Poland reverting to harsh assimilation policies and the military assuming control in Volhynia, the stage was set for future tragedies.

The Legacy of Interwar Struggles

The interwar period bequeathed contradictory legacies. While Polish rule preserved Ukrainian civil society in Galicia, repressive policies radicalized a generation. The OUN’s extremist ideology took root among frustrated intelligentsia, though it never commanded mass support. Meanwhile, Soviet atrocities in eastern Ukraine were largely hidden from western Ukrainians, allowing some to romanticize the Soviet Ukrainian project.

These complex developments would explode during World War II, when competing visions of Ukrainian identity collided with catastrophic violence. The interwar experience proved that while empires could suppress national movements, the nation-states that replaced them often struggled to manage multinational realities – a lesson with enduring relevance for contemporary Eastern Europe.