Borderlines

 I have always been interested in borders. The history of the Balkans is littered with examples of border disputes, revisions and the associated conflict. This book by Lewis Baston examines the history of Europe through 29 borders, and it's a fascinating read, not least because he visited most of them. 

Like most UK readers, I think of borders as our internal ones, even though they were once international. In my case, the Scottish Borders, which before the Union of the Crowns was a region of almost regulated conflict. The Welsh Marches were different, but the conflict was just as real. This book is about international borders across Europe, though I was more interested in those in Eastern Europe.

Borders can be a bridge between countries, but also a door keeping people out. A good example is Estonia, which is keeping its Russian border shut, while you can travel freely across the southern border into Latvia. Borders can also describe territorial revisionism, not simply the current political map of Europe. Nationalists in the Balkans are always drawing maps of 'greater' this or that, which purport to include ethnic groups that are in other countries. The Hungarian-Romanian border is an example of this. Historically, borders were not as fixed as they are today. Border communities could be areas of conflict, but also of cooperation. The Militargrenze and Bosnia are such areas.

The core of this book is the author's visits to famous and not-so-famous borders. In the north, he visits the barbed wire and tank traps that Estonia has built to deter Putin's expansionist Russia, and the Russia-Finland border, which stretches for 1,340km. Central Europe has some ironies. Hungary was the first to dismantle barriers and seek to join the EU, but now Orban has decided that barbed wire and division are a good thing. A detour to Cachtice on the Austria-Czechia-Slovakia border was a good opportunity to examine the myths and reality of the infamous Elisabeth Bathory. Today, visitors are positively encouraged to visit the castle!

The Ukraine-Russia boundary is a good example of states claiming 'historic' boundaries, when in reality their claims are simply a snapshot of history. If you look hard enough, almost any border claim can be justified. As Baston puts it, 'Old boundaries layer over each other like scar tissue.' In the periods I am currently writing about, the Cossacks and Tatars roamed over vast spaces between their empire masters, with little consideration of fixed borders. Catherine the Great had no concept of legal or even natural borders; she just expanded her empire in every direction possible. 

The best chapter in the book covers Galicia and Bukovina, which is today on the borders of Poland, Ukraine and Romania. In 1919, after the collapse of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, the line was arbitrarily drawn by Lord Curzon. In the book's best line, 'There are few geopolitical situations that cannot be worsened by an Englishman brandishing a map and a pen.' On my visit to the Romania-Ukraine border last year, I didn't have time to get as far north as Chernivtsi, which looks like a fascinating place to visit. Its history is borderland par excellence.

The author concludes that 'Revising borders, even without evil intent, is a fool's errand. There is no ideal state of national borders.' Being obsessed with old borders, stirring up grievances, as Putin and Orban are, just makes everyone sadder, angrier and poorer. If there is one message from this brilliant book, it is to leave well alone.

Some of my Early Modern Croats who fought along a shifting border for centuries.