The Bridge on the Drina - PDFDrive.com Page 34
papersasthe'easternrailway'.ItwastolinkSarajevowiththeSerbianfrontierat
Vardište and the boundary of the Turkish-held Sanjak of Novi Pazar at Uvce.
Thelineranrightthroughthetownwhichwasthemostimportantstationonit.
Muchwassaidandwrittenaboutthepoliticalandstrategicsignificanceofthis
line, of the impending annexation of Bosnia and Herzegovina, of the further
aimsofAustro-HungarythroughtheSanjaktoSalonicaandallthecomplicated
problems connected with them. But in the town all these things still seemed
completely innocent and even attractive. There were new contractors, fresh
hordesofworkmenandnewsourcesofgainformany.
This time everything was on a grand scale. The building of the new line, 166
kilometres long, on which were about 100 bridges and viaducts and about 130
tunnels, cost the state seventy-four million crowns. The people spoke of this
great number of millions and then looked vaguely into the far distance as if tryinginvaintoseetherethisgreatmountainofmoneywhichwentfarbeyond
any calculation or imagining. 'Seventy-four millions!' repeated many of them
knowinglyasiftheycouldcountthemonthepalmoftheirhand.Foreveninthis
remote little town where life in two-thirds of its forms was still completely
oriental, men began to become enslaved by figures and to believe in statistics.
'Something less than half a million, or to be accurate 445,782.12 crowns per
kilometre.'Sothepeoplefilledtheirmouthswithbigfiguresbuttherebyneither
becamerichernorwiser.
Duringthebuildingoftherailway,thepeopleforthefirsttimefeltthattheeasy,
carefreegainsofthefirstyearsaftertheoccupationexistednolonger.Forsome
yearspastthepricesofgoodsandeverydaynecessitieshadbeenleapingupward.
They leapt upward but never fell back and then, after a shorter or a longer
period,leaptupagain.Itwastruetherewasstillmoneytobemadeandwages
were high, but they were always at least twenty per cent less than real needs.
Thiswassomemadandartfulgamewhichmoreandmoreembitteredthelives
ofmoreandmorepeople,butinwhichtheycoulddonothingforitdependedon
something far away, on those same unattainable and unknown sources whence
hadcomealsotheprosperityofthefirstyears.Manymenwhohadgrownrich
immediatelyaftertheoccupation,somefifteenortwentyyearsbefore,werenow
poorandtheirsonshadtoworkforothers.True,therewerenewmenwhohad
made money, but even in their hands the money played like quick-silver, like
some spell by which a man might easily find himself with empty hands and
tarnishedreputation.Itbecamemoreandmoreevidentthatthegoodprofitsand
easierlifewhichtheyhadbroughthadtheircounterpartandwereonlypiecesin
some great and mysterious game of which no one knew all the rules and none
couldforeseetheoutcome.Andyeteveryoneplayedhispartinthisgame,some
withasmallersomewithagreaterrole,butallwithpermanentrisk.
In the summer of the fourth year the first train, decorated with green branches
andflags,passedthroughthetown.Itwasamomentofgreatpopularrejoicing.
Theworkmenwereservedwithafreeluncheonwithgreatbarrelsofbeer.The
engineershadtheirpicturestakenaroundthefirstlocomotive.Allthatdaytravel
ontherailwaywasfree('Onedayfreeandawholecenturyformoney,'mocked
Alihodjaatthosewhotookadvantageofthisfirsttrain).
Onlynow,whentherailwayhadbeencompletedandwasworking,coulditbe
seen what it meant for the bridge and its role in the life of the town. The line went down to the Drina by that slope below Mejdan, cut into the hillside,
circumvented the town itself and then went down to the level ground by the farthest houses near the banks of the Rzav, where the station was. All traffic,
bothpassengersandgoods,withSarajevoandbeyondSarajevototherestofthe
westernworld,nowremainedontherightbankoftheDrina.Theleftbank,and
withitthebridge,wascompletelyparalysed.Onlythosefromthevillagesonthe
left bank now went across the bridge, peasants with their little overburdened
horses and bullock carts or wagons dragging timber from distant forests to the
station.
TheroadwhichledupwardsfromthebridgeacrossLijeskatoSemećandthence
acrosstheGlasinacandRomaniarangestoSarajevo,andwhichhadatonetime
echoed to the songs of the drovers and the clatter of packhorses, began to be
overgrownwithgrassandthatfinegreenmosswhichgraduallyaccompaniesthe
decline of roads and buildings. The bridge was no longer used for travelling,
farewellswerenolongersaidonthe kapia andmennolongerdismountedthere
todrinkthestirrup-cupsofplumbrandy'fortheroad'.
The packhorse owners, their horses, the covered carts and little old-fashioned
fiacresbywhichmenatonetimetravelledtoSarajevoremainedwithoutwork.
The journey no longer lasted two whole days with a halt for the night at
Rogatica, as up till now, but a mere four hours. That was one of those figures
which made men stop and think, but they still spoke of them without
understanding and with emotion, reckoning up all the gains and savings given
them by speed. They looked with wonder at the first townsmen who went one
day to Sarajevo, finished their business, and returned home again the same
evening.
Alihodja,alwaysmistrustful,pig-headed,plain-spokenandapartinthatasinall
else, was the exception. To those who boasted of the speed with which they
couldnowfinishtheirbusinessandreckonedhowmuchtime,moneyandeffort
they had saved, he replied ill-humouredly that it was not important how much
timeamansaved,butwhathedidwithitwhenhehadsavedit.Ifheuseditfor
evilpurposesthenithadbeenbetterhehadneverhadit.Hetriedtoprovethat
themainthingwasnotthatamanwentswiftlybutwherehewentandforwhat
purposeandthat,therefore,speedwasnotalwaysanadvantage.
'Ifyouaregoingtohell,thenitisbetterthatyoushouldgoslowly,'hesaidcurtly
toayoungmerchant.'YouareanimbecileifyouthinkthattheSchwabeshave
spenttheirmoneyandbroughttheirmachinehereonlyforyoutotravelquickly
andfinishyourbusinessmoreconveniently.Allyouseeisthatyoucanride,but
you do not ask what the machine brings here and takes away other than you yourself and others like you. That you can't get into your head. Ride then, my
finefellow,rideasmuchasyoulike,butIgreatlyfearthatallyourridingwill
leadonlytoafalloneofthesefinedays.ThetimewillcomewhentheSchwabes
willmakeyouridewhereyoudon'twanttogoandwhereyouneverevendreamt
ofgoing.'
Whenever he heard the engine whistle as it rounded
the bends on the slope
behind the Stone Han, Alihodja would frown and his lips would move in
incomprehensible murmurs and, looking out slantwise from his shop at the
unchangingbridge,hewouldgoonelaboratinghisformeridea;thatthegreatest
buildingsarefoundedbyawordandthatthepeaceandexistenceofwholetowns
andtheirinhabitantsmightdependuponawhistle.Orsoatleastitseemedtothis
weakenedmanwhorememberedmuchandhadgrownsuddenlyold.
ButinthatasinallelseAlihodjawasaloneinhisopinionslikeaneccentricand
a dreamer. In truth the peasants too found it hard to grow accustomed to the
railway. They made use of it, but could not feel at ease with it and could not
understanditswaysandhabits.Theywouldcomedownfromthemountainsat
the first crack of dawn, reaching the town about sunrise, and by the time they
reachedthefirstshopswouldbeginaskingeveryonetheymet:
'Hasthemachinegone?'
'Byyourlifeandhealth,neighbour,ithasgonelongago,'theidleshopkeepers
liedheartlessly.
'Reallygone?'
'Nomatter.There'llbeanothertomorrow.'
They asked everyone without stopping for a moment, hurrying onwards and
shoutingattheirwivesandchildrenwholaggedbehind.
Theyarrivedatthestationrunning.Oneoftherailwaymenreassuredthemand
told them that they had been misinformed and that there were still three good
hoursbeforethedepartureofthetrain.Thentheyrecoveredtheirbreathandsat
downalongthewallsofthestationbuildings,tookouttheirbreakfasts,atethem,
and chatted or dozed, but remained continually alert. Whenever they heard the
whistle of some goods engine they would leap to their feet and bundle their
thingstogether,shouting:
'Getup!Herecomesthemachine!'
Thestationofficialontheplatformcursedthemanddrovethemoutagain:
'Didn'tIjusttellyouthatitwasmorethanthreehoursbeforethe train comes?
Whatareyourushingfor?Haveyoutakenleaveofyoursenses?'
Theywentbacktotheiroldplacesandsatdownoncemore,butstillsuspicious
and distrustful. At the first whistle or even only at some uncertain noise they
once more leaped to their feet and crowded on to the platform, only to be
repulsed once more to wait patiently and listen attentively. For however much
the officials told them and explained to them, they could not get it into their
heads that the 'machine' was not some sort of swift, mysterious and deceitful
contraption invented by the Schwabes which slipped away from anyone
inattentiveenoughtowinkaneyeandwhichhadonlyoneideainitsmind:how
tocheatthepeasantandleavewithouthim.
But all these things, the peasants' stupidity and Alihodja's bad-tempered
grumbling,werethingsofnoimportance.Thepeoplelaughedatthemandatthe
same time soon grew accustomed to the railway as they had to everything else
that was new, easy and pleasant. They still went out to the bridge and sat on
the kapia astheyhadalwaysdone,andcrosseditontheireverydayaffairs,but
they travelled in the direction and manner imposed on them by the new times.
Quickly and easily they grew reconciled to the idea that the road across the
bridgenolongerledtotheoutsideworldandthatthebridgewasnolongerwhat
it once had been: the link between East and West. Better to say, most of them
neverthoughtaboutit.
Butthebridgestillstood,thesameasithadalwaysbeen,withtheeternalyouth
ofaperfectconception,oneofthegreatandgoodworksofman,whichdonot
knowwhatitmeanstochangeandgrowoldandwhich,orsoitseemed,donot
sharethefateofthetransientthingsofthisworld.
XVII
Butthere,besidethebridge,inthetownboundtoitbyfate,thefruitsofthenew
timeswereripening.Theyear1908broughtwithitgreatuneasinessandasortof
obscure threat which thenceforward never ceased to weigh upon the town. In
fact this had begun much earlier, about the time of the building of the railway
line and the first years of the new century. With the rise in prices and the
incomprehensible but always perceptible fluctuations of government paper,
dividendsandexchanges,therewasmoreandmoretalkofpolitics.
Tillthenthetownspeoplehadconcernedthemselvesexclusivelywithwhatwas
neartothemandwellknown,withtheirgains,theirpastimesand,inthemain,
onlywithquestionsoftheirfamilyandtheirhomes,theirtownortheirreligious
community,butalwaysdirectlyandwithindefinitelimits,withoutlookingmuch
ahead or too far into the past. Now, however, more and more frequently in
conversationquestionsarosewhichlayfartheraway,outsidethisnarrowcircle.
In Sarajevo religious and national organizations and parties were founded,
Serbian and Moslem, which immediately set up their sub-committees in
Višegrad.NewpaperswerestartedinSarajevoandbegantoarriveinthetown.
Reading rooms and choral societies were founded; first Serbian, then Moslem
and finally Jewish. Students from the secondary schools and the universities at
Vienna and Prague returned to their homes in the vacations and brought with
themnewbooks,pamphletsandanewmannerofexpression.Bytheirexample
theyshowedtotheyoungertownsfolkthattheydidnotalwayshavetokeeptheir
mouthsshutandkeeptheirthoughtstothemselvesastheireldershadconstantly
believed and affirmed. Names of new organizations began to come into the
conversation, religious and national, on wide bases and with bold aims, and
finallyworkers'organizationsalso.Thentheword'strike'washeardinthetown
forthefirsttime.Theyoungapprenticesbecamemoreserious.Intheevenings
on the kapia they carried on conversations incomprehensible to others and
exchangedlittlepaper-backedpamphletswithsuchtitlesas:'Whatissocialism?',
'Eight hours of work, eight hours of rest, eight hours of self-improvement' and
'Aimsandwaysoftheworldproletariat'.
There was talk to the peasants on the agrarian problem, the relations between
serfs and landowners, of Turkish feudal landholding. The peasants listened,
looking a little aside with imperceptible movements of their moustaches and
littlefrowns,asiftryingtorememberallthatwassaidinordertothinkitover
later,eitheraloneorindiscussionwiththeirfellows.
Therewereplentyofcitizenswhocontinuedtokeepadiscreetsilenceandwho
rejected such novelties and such boldness of thought and language. But there
weremanymore,especiallyamongtheyoungerones,thepoorandtheidle,who
accepted all this as a joyful confirmation which corresponded to their inner
needs long kept silent, and brought into their lives that somethin
g great and
exciting which had up till then been lacking. When reading speeches and
articles,protestsandmemorandaissuedbypartyorreligiousorganizations,each
oneofthemhadthefeelingthathewascastingoffchains,thathishorizonwas
widening, his thoughts freed and his forces linked with those of men more
distantandwithotherforcesneverthoughtofuntilthen.
Now they began to look at one another from a point of view they had never
beforetaken.Inshort,itseemedtothem,inthismatteralso,thattheirlifehad
become more expansive and richer, that the frontiers of the impermissible and
theimpossiblehadmovedbackandthatthereopenedbeforethemprospectsand
possibilitiessuchashadneverbeforeexisted,evenforhimwhountilthenhad
neverpossessedthem.
Inactualfact,evennowtheyhadnothingnewnorweretheyabletoseeanything
better,buttheywereabletolookbeyondtheeverydaylifeofthetown,andthat
gave them the exciting illusion of space and power. Their habits had not
changed,theirwaysoflifeandtheformsofmutualrelationsremainedthesame,
only that in the time-honoured ritual of sitting idly over coffee, tobacco and
plumbrandy,boldwordsandnewmethodsofconversationhadbeenintroduced.
Menbegantoleavetheiroldassociatesandformnewgroups,toberepelledor
attracted according to new criteria and new ideas, but under the stress of old
passionsandancestralinstincts.
Nowtoo,externaleventsbegantofindtheirechointhetown.Firsttherewere
thedynasticchangesof1903inSerbiaandthenthechangeofrégimeinTurkey.
ThetownwhichwasrightontheSerbianfrontierandnotfarfromtheTurkish
boundaries, linked by deep and invisible bonds to one or other of these two
lands, felt these changes, lived them and interpreted them, although nothing of
all that was thought and felt about them was ever said publicly or talked of
openly.
Theactivitiesandpressureoftheauthoritiesbegantobefeltmoreopenlyinthe
town,firstthecivilauthoritiesandthenthemilitaryaswell.Andthatinquitea