With renovations already underway along significant portions, architects and city officials met members of the public late last week to present their plans for the future.
“The new Wenceslas Square is not just about modernization,” said the district mayor, Terezie Radoměřská. “It’s about returning the dignity that this square deserves. We want to make it a place where people will feel good and safe again.”
To do this, the 750-meter long ‘Václavák’ will see the addition of two tree-lined alleys running down its flanks, and the reintroduction of tramways.
Trams ran down the center of the boulevard until the 1980s before being mothballed due to the construction of the metro. Now set to return after an absence of several decades, the new tramlines will be laid off-center to allow the creation of a 15-meter-wide pedestrianized strip that will be used for exhibitions, markets and other community events.
In all, the renovation is expected to take three years to complete.
Wenceslas Square: its story and significance
First known as Koňský trh, the square’s origins date back to the Middle Ages when it was the site of a thriving horse market that was created in tandem with a cattle fair close by.
Evolving into a general trade hub, by the early 19th century it became known as a place where anything, and everything, could be bought or sold. Change, however, lay around the corner.
Since 1680, a statue of St. Wenceslas had stood in the square, and in 1848 a decision was reached to lift the square’s profile by renaming it after the patron saint that gazed over it. Tokenistic as this reinvention may have seemed to some, it ushered a new, bold era for the square.
In 1891, the main building of the immense National Museum was completed, lending the square a striking focal point, and when electric lighting was added just a few years later, St. Wenceslas could boast a renewed sense of vigor.
In what can be viewed as a relatively short time frame, a rich bounty of buildings would crop up during the fin de siècle period, giving the street an unmistakable Art Nouveau flavor.
What it could not boast, though, was a statue. With the original and rather modest monument of St. Wenceslas relocated in 1878 due to the square’s remodeling, a competition to design a new one (one more in line with the street’s newfound swagger) was launched in 1894.
Unable to decide on a winner, the jury urged the joint runners-up to finesse their suggestions, with Václav Myslbek’s effort doing enough to sway the vote. Depicting the saint as a horse-mounted warrior, the statue was finished in 1908 but would only be unveiled in 1913.
Located at the foot of the Neo-Renaissance National Museum building, to this day the monument casts an air of imperious majesty.
Considered an enduring symbol of Czech statehood and identity, it is perhaps for this reason that the monument has become more than just Prague’s most popular meeting spot, but also a rallying point for protests and manifestations.
Aiding that, of course, are the dimensions of the square. More of a broad, stretching boulevard than a conventional square, Václavské náměstí – as it is known in Czech – naturally offers itself as a place of public gathering. And of these there have been many.
On October 28, 1918, it was at the foot of the statue that author Alois Jirásek read out the Czechoslovak declaration of independence, and 20 years later crowds would again return – this time, however, patriotic fervor would be swapped with fear.
Outraged by Britain and France’s open policy of appeasement, and Germany’s aggressive overtures towards the Sudetenland region of the Czechoslovak Republic, tens of thousands gathered to voice their discontent. These protests would ultimately prove futile, and within months the very same square would echo to the thundering sound of thousands of jackboots.
It would be the post-war years, however, that would see the square gain global fame. With Czechoslovakia falling in the Soviet sphere of influence, gloomy times beckoned. However, hopes for a brighter future briefly flickered in 1968 under the liberal, reform-minded leadership of Alexander Dubček.
While Dubček’s vision found itself widely embraced domestically, it antagonized the Kremlin, which sought to reassert its iron-fisted authority by flooding the country with over 150,000 Warsaw Pact troops.
Discontent lingered for months after, and in 1969 a student by the name of Jan Palach set himself on fire in front of the Wenceslas statue to protest the Soviet invasion.
He took three days to die. When his demise was confirmed, tens of thousands gathered at the site of his self-immolation, leaving makeshift memorials around the Wenceslas statue and National Museum.
Two months later, when Czechoslovakia beat the USSR at ice hockey, an outpouring of joy saw 150,000 descend on Wenceslas Square; soon, revelry turned to rioting, with some choosing to ransack the Wenceslas Square office of the Soviet air carrier Aeroflot.
For all that, it was Palach who would define the year. Making headline news across the world, his death would come to embody Czech defiance. Neither would it ever be forgotten. As if issuing a clarion call from the grave, the 20th anniversary of his act sparked a new wave of protests.
Convening on the eve of the anniversary, a crowd of 2,000 were met by lines of riot police by the statue before being violently dispersed. For many, this manifestation would serve as a precursor for the Velvet Revolution that would occur later that year.
With the Berlin Wall falling just days before, and disaffection with Communism sweeping across the Eastern Bloc countries, Wenceslas Square would return to the news on November 20, 1989.
Huge numbers again gathered to voice their dissatisfaction, with Colin McIntyre, the chief East Europe correspondent for Reuters, later recalling the sight that greeted him: “We stood at the window of our temporary office in the Hotel Yalta and watched the crowd walk slowly up Wenceslas Square. By the time they got half-way, we knew it was all over [for Communism].”
Also there was Alison Smale of the Associated Press: “For me, personally, it was obvious that the population had shifted,” she said. “There would be no way for the Communists to hold on.”
For the next few days, hundreds of thousands continued to mass in the square, listening to speeches by the dissident playwright Vaclav Havel delivered from the balcony of the Melantrich publishing house. A new era beckoned; for the Czechoslovakian Communist Party, the writing was on the wall.
Having played a lead role in some of the most momentous events in modern Czech history, it’s hard to disagree that Wenceslas Square has earned its renovation.