• October 1992 •

With a book against a book is probably the key political motto which, in the former Yugoslav society, broke with the “commissarial demagogy” and opened the door to a new civil society, democratic dialogue and European visions. An irony of fate is that the motto was first used by a Slovene who soiled his hands with Bolshevik authority. But, at least in Slovenia, it stuck and released an incredible amount of civil energy which changed history. During the crucial events which brought Slovenia back into Europe, Slovene writers and poets definitely had the most important and decisive role.

The nations which history deprived of its own aristocracy, which had neither victorious warriors, kings nor statesmen, and which, for a long millennium existed in the midst of European tumults without its own state, survived thanks to its language which she lovingly and jealously cultivated. Apostles of the language, the poets and writers who cherished and enriched it, are the Slovene aristocracy.

Primož Trubar, a Protestant preacher, printed the first two Slovene books, Katechismus and Abecedarium, in 1550 in Tuebingen, and smuggled them to his homeland in beer barrels. Not only did he inspire Slovenes to cultivate their language, but also to work hard in the spirit of Protestant faith; tenaciousness and readiness to work hard remained the qualities of Slovenes even after the religious ideas of the Reformation had been beaten out of their heads.

France Prešeren, the most esteemed Slovenian poet, sang an ode in the language which had previously been considered the language of peasants and servants; his poetry was as subtle, refined and elegant as any written in the traditional languages of culture. We owe our love and pride for our gentle language to the poet whose verse we sing in the national anthem.

God’s blessing on all nations

Who long and work for that bright day

When o’er earth’s habitations

No war, no strife shall hold its sway;

Who long to see

That all men free

No more shall foes, but neighbours be.

Ivan Cankar did for prose what Prešeren did for poetry. His legacy is not only the culture of language, but also the culture of political awareness and self-reflection.

When, in World War II, Slovenes took up arms in self-defence, their brigades bore the names of poets and writers. When, five years ago, Slovenes decided to go their own way, poets and writers were again  in the front ranks. Or even ahead!

Now we have a poet and a writer in the five-member state presidency. The Slovene Foreign Minister is an active homme de letters. The foremost Minister of Culture became famous thanks to his brilliant translation of Dante Alighieri. The general council of the Slovene television is presided over by possibly the most important Slovene dramatist alive, Rudi Šeligo.

Sometimes we reproach them that they are too poetic, that they moralize when they should take steps that they lack pragmatic determination, diplomatic cunning and aristocratic ruthlessness. They may not be the best. They may soon be replaced by others, better versed in the affairs and behaviour of statesmen.

But, when times are bad again, when we undergo the trials of fate, we will definitely reach for our only true weapon – the book.

Jure Apih