"Florence is as elegant and refined as a Boticelli painting.
Venice is splendid and sensuous, like a painting by Titian ...
Vienna is merry and lively like an Offenbach Operetta...," said
Ernest Denis. And Prague? A.M. Ripelini calls Prague magical
but Ernest Denis says she is a city of tragedies. The magic and
tragedy are encoded in the labyrinth of twisting streets in
Prague's Old Town. Every stone here speaks. Upheavals and
revolutions were more frequent, passions more intense, battles
more furious and fierce than anywhere else, because nowhere
else was victory so tied to survival.
The idea of "Genius Loci," the spirit which inspires a given place, forms its personality, and unifies its parts and fragments into a whole, seems to have been forgotten in modern times. Yet the past, the deeds of those long dead, have a magical influence on those born in the same place centuries later. Genius Loci is the interaction of those who are related by physical contact, by local tradition, and by their history, as the same problems, formulated by the facts of geography, are posed to successive generations.
Physically, Prague sits astride its silver-hued river,
crossed by two parallel ridges. The river, known abroad by its
German name, the Moldau, is called the Vltava, its older Celtic
name, by residents.
Flowing from South to North, the Vltava
makes a detour around the quarter of Holesovice, forming the
letter P. The heart of Prague lies at the junction point of this P.
Here the 14th century Charles Bridge connects the Old Town to
the Lesser Quarter or Mala Strana. The nobility built their
palaces along the river here and on the steep slopes leading up
to the Castle, which dominates the skyline.
Some million years ago, a cosmic body approached this
place from the East. Just before impact, it split into two halves which carved the two parallel ridges. The whole city lies in a shallow crater formed by this cosmic collision.
Prague sits atop a cultural fault line which separates
Eastern and Western Europe. On the surface, the line seems to
separate the Germanic population to its west from the mostly
Slavic population on its east. However, the division is more
ancient and much deeper.
Bohemia, the province surrounding Prague, was the
farthest northeast reach of the Roman Empire in its heyday.
Later the Roman Empire split into Byzantium and the Holy
Roman Empire along this line. The fracture runs from Danzig
across Poland, south through Prague to Austria, and ends in
Bosnia. In Sarajevo this north-south fault meets another
dividing line, separating the Muslim population to the south
from the Christian north. The two lines form an inverted T
carved across the face of Europe. Like earthquakes erupting
along geological faults, many European wars started along the
arms of this T.
Prague has been pounded by alternating waves, from the
west and from the east. In 863 AD two monks, Cyril and
Methodius, were invited from Constantinople to Prague to
convert the Slavs to Christianity. They created a variant of the
Greek alphabet called Cyrillic, used wherever the Eastern
Orthodox church became dominant. This cultural and linguistic divide is visible today in the Serbian and Croatian languages.
They are the same Slavic language with same vocabulary, one
written in the Roman alphabet and the other in Cyrillic.
Cyrillic and Eastern Orthodoxy were not to become
dominant for the Czechs, however. They were pulled West with
the formation of the Holy Roman Empire. During the golden
period of Emperor Charles IV's rule, Prague was the capital
of that empire, flourishing culturally, intellectually, and
economically. Prague's Gothic architecture, its Charles Bridge
and hundreds of medieval spires, are the signature of this era.
Some of the great upheavals of later European history
started in Prague itself, as the pendulum of power continued to
swing first one way, then the other.
In the two turbulent, independent centuries that followed,
Bohemia repudiated Western influences. Christian groups
independent of Rome were created and concepts of religious
pluralism and tolerance emerged.
How does Prague's Genius Loci give birth to these ideas?
Countess Suttner, born in the 19th century in the Kinsky
palace, located in the Prague's Old Town Square, dedicated her
life to the idea that international conflicts could be resolved by
negotiation or court proceedings, rather than by armed conflict.
She was instrumental in founding the International Court in the
Hague. When Alfred Nobel inaugurated his Peace Prize in 1905,
she was the fifth recipient.
When I first heard her life story, I realized that the same
idea, the same effort, had been launched from this same city
over 400 years earlier.
In the period of independence after the first defenestration, the
Hussite king, George of Podebrady, attempted to create a secular
alliance to replace Rome's role as European unifier and
arbitrator. Was it mere coincidence that two of Prague's
residents should have been inspired with the same idea?
In the stacks of the Charles University library in Prague, I
discovered Countess Suttner's book, Disarm, containing the
following passage:
"In the fifteen century, a thought occurred to a certain
king to create a Peace League. It was George of Podebrady, who
wanted to bring to an end the fight between the pope and
emperor [of the Holy Roman Empire] and turned with such a
proposal to Louis XI, who however declined his cooperation.... "
Thus Genius Loci, posing the same problem to a Hussite
king and a 19th century countess, united them in common
cause. But just as George's efforts did not prevent the eventual
victory of the Catholic Hapsburgs, Suttner's work did not
prevent WWI. Yet one of history's ironic twists connects their
struggles in another way: WWI destroyed the very same
Hapsburg empire whose ascendancy George had tried to prevent.
Their idea survived, however. In 1945, it saw fruition when
the United Nations was born in San Francisco, coincidentally a
city of literal fault lines. If the UN today often fails to prevent
armed conflict, as did King George and Countess Suttner in their
times, we must not despair. Out of the violent cauldron of
Prague's history new ideas emerged, These ideas survived the
centuries by taking peculiar, unpredictable turns, like
pedestrians threading their way through the crooked streets of
Prague's Old Town and suddenly emerging in unexpected places.
The author was born in Prague. He left Prague left to study mathematical
logic in Poland and the Netherlands. He returned and has lived here in Prague for over 50
years. While his profession is mathematics and computer science, his
avocation is literature. His Prague then is the city of Kafka and Meyrink.
He contributes his knowledge of Prague to Hedgie's information service. © Copyright 2004-2005 Hedgehog Holding s.r.o.
Astride the Fault
Some of the great ideas of European civilization were born
in Prague. Here the monolith of the medieval church started to
crack and splinter. Ideas of religious plurality were followed by
concepts of religious tolerance, and of a secular peacekeeping
alliance, the League of Nations, predecessor to the United
Nations. How did it happen that these ideas were born in this
place?
Prague as a Volcanic Fissure
The frequency and violence of these periods of change
created something unique. Like the Mid-Atlantic Ridge, the
oceanic geological fault line between the North-Atlantic and
European plates, where molten material constantly erupts from
the earth's core, building new land, so the cultural fault line
seems to be a perpetual source of new ideas.
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