In the tiny Bohemian village of Lany last week a man of good will was buried. He was intelligent, industrious, tolerant, futile. His life & death was a parable for his tragic time.

Over Jan Masaryk's open grave, a huntsman raised his horn and blew out into the chill spring the wistful air of the Czech national anthem Kde Domov muj? (Where Is My Home?). Because he was never quite sure where his ideological home was, Jan Masaryk had been hunted to his death by men who were very sure of theirs.


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