LTŠioje knygoje rasite atsakymus į daugelį klausimų, susijusių su garsiosiomis „Kražių skerdynėmis“: kodėl 1893 m. Kražių ir šiek tiek anksčiau (1886) Kęstaičių atveju caro valdžia susidūrė su masiniu pasipriešinimu, nors anksčiau be didesnių problemų uždarė šimtus katalikų vienuolynų ir bažnyčių? ar ginant šventovę buvo aukų? kaip šie įvykiai paveikė Rusijos imperijos konfesinę politiką, lietuvių tautinį judėjimą, lenkų ir lietuvių konfliktą? kaip šiam incidentui prigijo „skerdynių“ terminas? kaip žinios apie Kražių įvykius pasiekė tolimiausius pasaulio kampelius? kodėl kražiškių teismas vyko Vilniuje, o ne Kaune ir kodėl nuteistieji su laukė imperatoriaus malonės? ar popiežius Leonas XIII iš tiesų užtarė „Kražių kankinius“, kaip tvirtino užsienio žiniasklaida? kas padėjo susigrąžinti šventovę XX a. pradžioje? kaip šis incidentas tapo lenkų, bet visų pirma lietuvių atminties vieta? kokios aplinkybės darė įtaką „Kražių skerdynių“ vaizdinio kaitai ir t. t. [Anotacija knygoje]
ENThis book is devoted to the incident of 10 November 1893 in the town of Kražiai (Krože in Polish). The plot of the Kražiai massacre can be divided into three parts, which, although interrelated, demand different sources, methods, or theoretical approaches. These are the policy of the authorities of the Russian Empire, the actions and self-identifications of the Catholics of Kražiai and surrounding areas, and the narratives about the incident of 1893. The closure, in 1893, of the Benedictine convent and its church in Kražiai was a consequence of the consistent confessional (or, more broadly, nationality) policy of the Russian Empire, which sought to minimise the number of the institutions associated with anti-Tsarist activities. Thus, in this case, the motives of the civil authorities were the same or at least similar to those that led to the closure of hundreds of Catholic monasteries and convents after the two ‘Polish’ uprisings; however, in the case of Kražiai, similarly to that of Kęstaičiai in 1886, the implementation of the tsar’s decree was not smooth. The Cossacks’ brutal crackdown on Catholics, who were keeping vigil at the house of worship, was an extraordinary event, although it probably did not result in any casualties for the defenders of the church that day. First of all, almost two years separated the first imperial decree (10 December 1893) and the closure of the church. This happened because, unlike in the 1830s and the 1860s, this issue was no longer on the list of priorities of the civil authorities, so the officials took into account the state of health of some of the Benedictine nuns, which was actually rather poor.In addition, disagreements became apparent between the central government and the local administration over the means of implementing the goals of confessional policy (those who worked in St Petersburg paid more attention to ‘disciplining’, while those who served in Vilnius and Kaunas prioritised ‘discreditation’). The second decree was issued before the holidays of the governor of Kaunas. In the autumn of 1893, the local administration had to postpone the closure of the prayer house until after the end of the conscription, because a large police force was needed in either case. The delay in the implementation of the order of 10 December 1891 allowed the people of Kražiai to muster. An additional incentive for the constant vigil at the church was the unsuccessful attempts of the Catholic clergy to use up the Blessed Sacrament thus enabling the civil authorities to close the house of prayer. The order of Nikolai Klingenberg, the governor of Kaunas, to the effect that the Catholic clergy themselves were to close the church of the former convent was a clear departure from the policy of the previous decades when the civil administration, which used to be in charge of this process and acted together with the priests, took advantage of the element of surprise. By handing the initiative to the Catholic clergy, the governor of Kaunas hoped to win either way: either to substantiate his oft-repeated claims to the central government about the disloyalty of the clergy or to undermine the authority of the clergy in the eyes of the believers.In addition to the malicious intentions of the governor of Kaunas, there also was an inadequate assessment of the situation. Despite several years spent in Kaunas Governorate, Klingenberg did not believe in the deep attachment of Lithuanians (Samogitians) to Catholicism. He always seemed to think that Lithuanians were ‘potential Russians’ and that the task of the local administration was to free them from the influence of the priests and landlords. Such a miscalculation became particularly pronounced in the autumn of 1893. The incident in Kražiai may have contributed to changes in the imperial confessional policy, the most prominent element of which was the (more liberal) change of 1896 in the regulations in the construction of churches. It might seem that certain changes were already discernible in the trial of the defenders of the Kražiai church held in Vilnius in 1894, when all the defendants were pardoned, to a greater or lesser extent, by the new Emperor Nicholas II, although the trial itself did not live up to the expectations of Klingenberg and Petr Orzhevsky, the governorgeneral of Vilnius. It should be stressed that the actions of the officials from the Ministry of Justice, both during the incident and afterwards, clearly showed that this branch of the tsarist authority differed considerably from the Ministry of the Interior. While the officials of the former were concerned with the rule of law and even elementary principles of humanity, those from the latter often resorted to administrative coercion, and the Kražiai incident was an example of it. In other words, the rather lenient court ruling and the pardon granted by the tsar were not so much the result of a change in policy but of the division of power that actually existed in the Romanov Empire. [...]. [From the publication]