The Bridge Between East and West
A poet and dramatist who
published his early work before World War I, Miroslav Krleza is the leading
writer of Croatia and a man of enormous influence in the newly emerging
Yugoslav literature; he is a close friend of Marshal Tito's and a connoisseur
of modern art. In his offices in Zagreb, apart from his creative work, he is
engaged in editing the most comprehensive series of encyclopedias ever
published in central Europe.
by Miroslav Krleza
In humanity's past there have been wars which have played the role of
historical locomotives of progress, but that an eventual Third World War, which
threatens to destroy all that man has created as a witness to his wisdom and
morals, would become a locomotive of death is beyond doubt.
Wars do not fall from heaven like the angels of the Apocalypse. Wars are
stubborn and cruel earthly phenomena, and whoever wishes to understand them
must, in the light of negative experience, attempt to explain them in an
earthly manner. When we speak of an eventual Third World War, it follows as the
normal consequence of the Second World War, just as the Second World War cannot
be thought of apart from the First. Both world wars are connected by the iron
logic of cause and effect.
The pacifist policy of coexistence among nations and governmental blocs, as
preached by Yugoslavia, is an idealistic policy of compromise by which the
coefficient of international danger which today exists among nations and states
may be reduced to a minimum.
Whence comes the inspiration for the courageous initiative which a small and
backward country like ours, until recently enslaved, has taken for its
standard? The moral and political farsightedness which Yugoslavia, while
resisting constant dangers, maintains as a beacon in its struggle for exalted
international goals is actually the postulate of the negative and bloody
experience of its history.
In the past, our country has never transgressed the simple moral principle that
nations, whether great or small, should behave in international relations like
decently brought-up, morally balanced individuals in human society who respect
their neighbors as themselves.
That nations should preach the truth, that they should not challenge each
other's freedom and elementary right of existence, that they should not
threaten each other with weapons--these have been the principles which all the
men of our country who are worthy of mention have preached in the past. That
our country has behaved in this manner for centuries is proved by its own
history, which is a dramatic struggle for the principle of freedom: freedom of
nationality, of thought, of speech, of language, of moral conviction, and of
In the tragic struggle for our moral, intellectual, political, and artistic
existence, we see one of the proofs of the force of our vitality. Today this is
our only guarantee of existence.
Since the sixth and seventh centuries, our earliest days in the Balkans, many
civilizations around us have disappeared into the darkness of history, while
among western European and Mediterranean civilizations ours alone has remained
Slavic. It is also the only one that is socialistic.
Contemporary Yugoslav socialism is today the dialectic result of a whole series
of our medieval antecedents: the Old Slavic, the Glagolitic, and the struggles
of Cyril and Methodius for equality of nationality and language in the
Greek-Latin Church hierarchy of the ninth century. Our Bogomil (Manichaean) lay
revolution, coming before Wycliffe, before Huss, and before Luther, was a
forerunner, from the ninth to the middle of the fourteenth century, which
bequeathed to posterity a rich native sculpture consisting of some thirty
thousand sarcophagi now scattered about in the numberless necropolises of our
republics. Our pre-Giotto painting, at the end of the thirteenth century,
produced artistic creations which equal in value the masterpieces of the much
later western European Renaissance. All our painters --the Byzantinnegianti,
the pride of our trecento--were classical pilgrims of western European
Renaissance painting, while our Latin Glagolitic priests of the eleventh
century were schismatic contenders for the right of the people's language in
the Latin Church, and as such the protagonists of the Orthodox Greek
concessions to the Slavic lay masses.
Our medieval civilization was born as an antithesis of Byzantium and Rome, of
European East and West, in a region where two autocratic powers, the
Constantinopolitan Greek patriarchate and the Roman papacy, had clashed for
centuries. Our cultural and political consciousness has never in its history
been either Eastern or Western. Instead, it has formed a third component in the
Eastern and Western spheres and has in the past been sufficiently strong to
resist subordination to more highly civilized and stronger powers.
The way of life of our people down through the centuries is expressed in
various assertions which date from the early Middle Ages and continue down to
the present. We found ourselves to be Europeans, between East and West,
connected with the East by our origins, language, and ethnic relations. Even
during the Middle Ages our people refused to accept the western European
pattern of life and thought, as is shown by the political genesis of our
medieval sovereignty and the struggle for church independence in its Bogomil,
Glagolitic, and Greek Orthodox variants. That our subsequent generations have
resisted all domination of foreign ideas and forces in their political and
cultural consciousness can be seen from the manner in which they founded their
states, built their churches and cities, wrote, wove, or carved stone, read the
Gospel in the language of the people, refused to accept foreign standards, and
struggled for independence for centuries.
When we say that our country is a bridge between East and West, we state a
tragic truth and one which describes the dominant feature in our history and
the political and cultural formula of its present mission. We are an Adriatic
and Mediterranean country, western European by tradition, where Latin was a
living language until the revolution of 1848. But we have also been hypnotized
by the century-old tradition of Slavic solidarity, by the cultural and national
unity of all the Slavs with Russia, the dream of Orthodox Mother Moscow which
we cherished for centuries. Those who understand our paradoxes will not be
surprised to learn that after producing a rich literature on the national and
linguistic unity of the Slavs (a well-known study of a minority at Hvar and the
famous monograph of a Benedictine monk from Dubrovnik in the sixteenth
century), a canon from Zagreb, Juraj Krizanic, a missionary of the Roman
Propaganda Fide, traveled to Moscow in the middle of the seventeenth century as
a Pan-Slavic ideologist, to outline to the czars the long-range political plans
for the conquest of the Baltic, the Crimea, and Siberia--which only Peter the
Great would realize.
In our present social structure we are a Communistic country, organized
according to the idealistic principles of Lenin. In our political program we
strive for total democracy and complete freedom of political thought of the
western European type.
Today, when from the Chinese perspective we are again branded as the
protagonists of western European revisionism, it must be understood that our
nonconformity coincides, so to speak, with our historical tradition. For more
than four hundred years, until the irruption of the Turks into Europe, our
country was the refugium haereticorum, the "refuge of heretics"--the
Manichaeans, the Cathari, and the Albigenses of western Europe, during the
early days of the awakening of the lay elements in the Latin and Greek
churches. Upon these elements were later built the moral and intellectual
concepts of the modern world.
Someday, when the history of western European civilization is written, it will
be recalled that two hundred years before the Reformation our country was the
only nonconformist model for Lombardy, France, and Portugal in the bloody
struggle against the supremacy of Constantinople and the Lateran and for the
defense of those moral principles which are the glory of the Anglican schism.
Translated by Stanley Frye.
Copyright © 1962 by Miroslav Krleza. All rights reserved.