The Bridge on the Drina (39 page)

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 little frowns, as if trying to remember all that was said in order to think it over later, either alone or in discussion with their fellows.

There were plenty of citizens who continued to keep a discreet silence and who rejected such novelties and such boldness of thought and language. But there were many more, especially among the younger ones, the poor and the idle, who accepted all this as a joyful confirmation which corresponded to their inner needs long kept silent, and brought into their lives that something great and exciting which had up till then been lacking. When reading speeches and articles, protests and memoranda issued by party or religious organizations, each one of them had the feeling that he was casting off chains, that his horizon was widening, his thoughts freed and his forces linked with those of men more distant and with other forces never thought of until then.

Now they began to look at one another from a point of view they had never before taken. In short, it seemed to them, in this matter also, that their life had become more expansive and richer, that the frontiers of the impermissible and the impossible had moved back and that there opened before them prospects and possibilities such as had never before existed, even for him who until then had never possessed them.

In actual fact, even now they had nothing new nor were they able to see anything better, but they were able to look beyond the everyday life of the town, and that gave them the exciting illusion of space and power. Their habits had not changed, their ways of life and the forms of mutual relations remained the same, only that in the time-honoured ritual of sitting idly over coffee, tobacco and plum brandy, bold words and new methods of conversation had been introduced. Men began to leave their old associates and form new groups, to be repelled or attracted according to new criteria and new ideas, but under the stress of old passions and ancestral instincts.

Now too, external events began to find their echo in the town. First there were the dynastic changes of 1903 in Serbia and then the change of régime in Turkey. The town which was right on the Serbian frontier and not far from the Turkish 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.

The activities and pressure of the authorities began to be felt more openly in the town, first the civil authorities and then the military as well. And that in quite a new form; at first they had paid attention to who did what and how he behaved, and now they inquired about who thought what and how he expressed his opinions. The number of gendarmes in the surrounding villages along the frontier was gradually increased. A special Information Officer, a man from the Lika, arrived at the local headquarters. The police arrested and fined youths for imprudent declarations or for singing prohibited Serbian songs. Suspected foreigners were deported; and differences of opinion led to arguments and quarrels among the citizens themselves.

With the introduction of the railway travelling became quicker and the transport of goods easier, and somehow at about the same time events too quickened their pace. The townspeople did not notice this, for the quickening was gradual and all of them were involved in it. They became accustomed to sensations; exciting news was no longer something rare and unusual but an everyday food and a real need. The whole of life seemed to be hastening somewhere, suddenly speeded up, as a freshet quickens its pace before it breaks into rapids, rushes over steep rocks and becomes a cascade.

Only four years had passed since the arrival of the first train in the town when, one October morning, a huge white proclamation was posted on the 
kapia, 
beneath the plaque with the Turkish inscription. It was put up by the municipal official Drago. At first only the idlers and children gathered round it and then, later, the rest of the citizens. Those who knew how to read deciphered the proclamation, spelling it out and halting at the foreign expressions and unfamiliar phrasing. The others listened in silence and with downcast eyes and after listening for a while dispersed without looking up, stroking their beards and moustaches as if to brush away words which had never been spoken.

After the noon prayer Alihodja too came, placing a bar across his shop front as a sign that the shop was closed. This time the proclamation was not written in Turkish also, so that the 
hodja 
could not read it. A boy was reading the proclamation aloud, quite mechanically, as if at school.

'PROCLAMATION to the People of Bosnia and Herzegovina.

"We, Franz Joseph, Emperor of Austria, King of Bohemia etc. and Apo-apo-apo-stolic King of Hungary, to the inhabitants of Bosnia and
Herzegovina: When a gen-gener-generation ago Our Armies crossed the frontiers of Your lands....'

Alihodja felt his right ear tingling beneath his white turban and, as if it had been the day before, his quarrel with Karamanli flashed before his eyes, the outrage then committed on him, the red cross which swam before his eyes filled with tears, while the Austrian soldier carefully extracted the nail, and the white placard with the proclamation then addressed to the people.

The youth went on:

'An ass-ass-assurance was then given You that they had not come as enemies but as Your friends with the avowed intention of rooting out all the evils which had for years op-op-oppressed You.

'That word given to You in that crit-critical moment...'

Everyone shouted at the inexpert reader who, blushing and embarrassed, slipped away into the crowd. In his place came some unknown man in a leather jacket, who seemed as if he were only waiting for his chance, who began to read quickly and fluently as if it were a prayer that he already knew by heart.

'That word given to You in that critical moment has been honestly kept. Our Government has always seriously concerned itself and worked to maintain peace and order, to lead Your Fatherland towards a happier future.

'And We, to Our great joy, dare freely to say: the seed which has been sown in the furrows of the soil so prepared has produced a rich harvest. You too must feel those facts as a blessing; that in place of violence and tyranny have come order and security, that work and life have developed continuously, that the ennobling influence of its work has multiplied opportunities for culture and that under the protection of a regular administration every man may enjoy the fruits of his labours.

'It is the solemn duty of all of Us to continue along this way.

'Having this aim constantly before Our eyes, We hold that the time has come to give the inhabitants of these two lands a fresh proof of Our faith in their political maturity. In order to raise Bosnia and Herzegovina to a higher level of political life. We have decided to grant constitutional institutions —such as will answer to their present conditions and their common interests —to both these lands and to give in this manner a legal basis for the representation of their wishes and interests.

'Let Your voices also be heard when in the future decisions will be made touching the affairs of Your country which will have have, as it has had up till now, its separate administration.

'But the first necessary condition for the introduction of this
national constitution is the clear and indubitable definition of the legal position of both these lands. Starting from this principle and bearing in mind those bonds which in olden times existed between Our glorious predecessors on the Throne of Hungary and these lands. We extend Our rights of sovereignty over Bosnia and Herzegovina and We desire that these lands accept the order of succession which is valid for Our House.

'Thus the inhabitants of both lands will become participators in all these benefits which will assure them the lasting consolidation of those bonds which, up to the present, have linked them to Us. The new state of affairs will be the guarantee that culture and prosperity will continue to find a sure home in Your country.

'Bosnians and Herzegovinians!

'Among the countless cares which surround Our Throne, that which We shall have for Your material and moral prosperity will not be the least. The supreme conception of the equality of all before the law, the participation in the making of laws and the administration of the country, an equal protection afforded to all faiths, languages and national characteristics —all these supreme benefits You will enjoy in full measure.

'The freedom of the individual and the good of the community will be the guiding star of Our Government for both these lands. ...'

With mouth half open and head lowered, Alihodja listened to these words, for the most part unfamiliar or unknown to him, and even those words which were not of themselves unfamiliar became in that context in some manner queer and incomprehensible. 'Seed . . . sown in the furrows of the soil so prepared . . . first and necessary condition for the introduction of this local constitution; clear and indubitable definition of legal position . . . guiding star of Our Government!' Yes, those were the 'Imperial words' once again! Each one of them opened before the 
hodja's 
inner vision now some distant, extraordinary and dangerous horizon, now some sort of curtain which fell, black and leaden, just before his eyes. So, first one thing and then the other; either he saw nothing or he saw something that he did not understand and which presaged no good. In this life nothing is impossible and every wonder possible. It could even happen that a man might listen carefully and yet understand nothing in detail while at the same time, when all those details were taken together, he could realize completely and understand perfectly! That seed, that star, those cares about the throne; all those things might just as well have been in some foreign language, yet none the less the 
hodja, 
or so it seemed to him, could understand what they were intended to mean and what they wished to convey. These Emperors
had for the past thirty years shouted across the lands and cities and over the heads of the peoples; yet every word in every proclamation of every Emperor was pregnant with meaning. For these countries were broken into fragments and in these countries heads rolled because of these words. So they spoke of 'seed ... stars ... cares of the throne' lest they call things by their real names and speak what was the fact; that lands and provinces and, with them, living men and their habitations passed from hand to hand like small change; that a well-intentioned true-believing man could no longer find peace on this earth, no more than he could find the little he needed for this short life; that his position and his goods changed independently of himself and contrary to his wishes and his best intentions.

Alihodja listened and he had continually the impression that these words were the same words of thirty years ago; he felt the same leaden heaviness in his breast, the same message that the Turkish times were ended and that 'the Turkish candle was burned out', but that it was necessary to repeat them for they would not understand or realize them, but deceived themselves and pretended to know nothing of them.

'You will therefore show Yourselves worthy of the confidence placed in You, so that the noble harmony existing between ruler and people, that most precious gage of all state progress, will always accompany Our common labours.

'Given in our Royal and Capital City of Budapes

 
Franz Joseph.'

The man in the leather jacket suddenly ceased reading and shouted unexpectedly:

'Long live His Majesty the Emperor!'

'Long life,' shouted tall Ferhat, the municipal lamplighter, as if by order.

All the others dispersed at the same moment in silence.

Before dark that day the great white proclamation was torn down and thrown into the Drina. The next day some Serbian youths were arrested on suspicion and a fresh copy of the white proclamation was put up on the 
kapia 
and a local gendarme posted there to guard it.

Whenever a government feels the need of promising peace and prosperity to its citizens by means of a proclamation, it is time to be on guard and expect the opposite. Towards the end of October, the army began to arrive, not only by train but also along the old deserted road. As it had done thirty years before, it came down the steep slope from Sarajevo and crossed the bridge into the town, with arms and commissariat. There were units of all kinds except cavalry. All
the barracks were full. They camped under canvas. Fresh units were continually arriving, stayed a few days in the town and were then posted to the villages along the Serbian frontier. The soldiers were mainly reservists, of various nationalities, with plenty of money. They made their minor personal purchases in the shops and bought fruit and sweetmeats at the street-corners. Prices leapt. Hay and oats completely disappeared. Fortifications began to be built on the hills surrounding the town. And on the bridge itself a very strange task began. In the middle of the bridge, just beyond the 
kapia 
as one came from the town to go to the left bank of the Drina, workmen specially brought for the job began to drill a hole about a yard square in one of the piers. The spot where they worked was concealed under a green tent, from beneath which continual hammering could be heard as they went deeper and deeper. The stone excavated was at once thrown over the parapet into the river. But however much the work was concealed, it was soon known in the town that the bridge was being mined, that is to say that a deep opening was being dug through one of the piers, right to the foundations, and that explosives would be placed in it in case war broke out and it was found necessary to destroy the bridge. Long iron ladders led down into the opening and when everything was finished an iron manhole cover was placed over it. Within a few days this cover could no longer be distinguished from the stones and dust. Carts passed over it, horses trotted by, and the townsmen hurried on their business without giving a thought to the mine and the explosives beneath. Only the children on their way to school halted for a moment at this spot, tapped inquisitively at that iron cover, trying to guess what was beneath it. They made up tales of some Arab hidden in the bridge, and argued among themselves about what an explosive was, what it did and whether it could ever destroy so great a building.