monstrous apparatuses – the top-lists.
Yet such phenomena would not be worrisome if they remained at the level of phenomena. However, they move on to becoming the focus, with the aim of becoming the rule and the natural order of things. No longer incidental or ephemeral, their goal is to become, and remain, a lasting value: quantity is equal to quality.
But how does this look in practice? Recently I was invited to a presentation by a popular authoress defending numbers. In order to prove that her first-place ranking on the list of most read books was unquestionable in every way, she compared herself with the most highly regarded writers of the century! Of course, in her ego-research she did not seek or find any corresponding numbers like, for example, the places held by the books of those respected writers in the top-lists of the time. True, she could not find them because at that time such lists did not even exist, because they were also not necessary. Writers then held their positions based on merit, and they did not mark them numerically. I guess my message is clear. Our writer was offended because earlier someone had publicly dared to challenge her claim that the first place is also the place of the best. She confused this formula with another, rather enticing one: that the first place is also the best one.
And let there be no mistake: the first place may be the best place, but that does not in any way mean that it is the place of the best.
Several months later, the greatest and most important consequence of the pasha’s visit (it turned out he had been spying on them) was the arrival of His Majesty in person among the boys of the blood tribute. Perhaps it would be more correct to say that, this time, they were allowed to stand before the great sultan. His generosity amounted to having the patience to look the group up and down once, to wave his hand indicating that they were to be at ease, and to sit on the couch and allow the ten of them to be introduced individually. This was done by their teacher-aga, as was his right, and Deli Husrev-pasha as a man from the ruler’s escort, and therefore a man of special trust.
The pasha spoke with unfathomable self-confidence about each of the boys individually: from where he was brought, from what kind of family, the things he had shown special talent for during his studies and where, in the pasha’s opinion, he should continue his schooling and his service. Thus, it was in front of the Sultan that Bajica found out that his destiny was planned to be closely connected to the supreme ruler: the imperial caravansary in Istanbul!
For one brief moment he had the chance to glimpse the Sultan’s looking at him; and it made his blood run cold. In the Sultan he saw an odd combination of lethargy and interest, but above all, an icy coldness born from the ubiquity of his power: from questions concerning the tiny destinies of individuals to the shaping of the future of entire tribes or states. On the other hand, the soldier in him was not so sleepy that he did not show interest in these educated slaves upon whom, tomorrow, his life might depend. Bajica was taught that all the children brought here, from Janissary soldier to future high councillors to the emperor, were assigned an equally deserved, identical role with regard to the Sultan. In time, the Sultan, depending on how and when he got close to them, would have more trust in them than in any other military formation. His very life would depend on their loyalty, both individual and collective. But so would their own lives. They would be a shield against all others, both outside and inside the empire. And he would be theirs.
Bajica thought through all of that in the days that followed. After he had sifted through all the other impressions, the one thing that remained most important was that he, Bajica, was no longer hidden from the emperor! Now knew that he meant something to them. Perhaps this was the recognition he received for his acceptance of the foreign. In exchange for that acceptance, he would be given privileges and not be condemned to a slave’s life; though no one would ever be able to free him from his slave status, not even the Sultan himself.
What he had now been offered, was the chance to be the perfect slave.
Numbers applied to literature and books sometimes take on humorous characteristics and bring about absurd consequences. At a recently held local book fair, the organiser published a ranking of all the participants in the national press. There were a lot of things written in that missive, but the only thing that was not were the criteria used to rank the publishers: they were the ‘best’ of something, but no one knew at what. And then, after serious analysis and search for the reasons for not citing the essential criterion, it became clear that this detail was not even important as long as they were the ‘best’.
The time has come, or the place has been reached, for me to quote myself from the beginning of this book: ‘history loves the largest, the strongest, the most powerful and everything the most. This book, however, has a different purpose…’
That is why this book remains in the margins, on a side-track, while history allows the eternal values of popular ranking to be set alongside its stolid and dignified monuments. The popular stage2 is sly, it uses the weakness of history to reward all sorts of victors (even toward the fake, insignificant, grotesque...), and thus easily snuggles up to it. It whispers compliments to history that skilfully help win its heart. And charm is part of the place from where one speaks: in the so-called popular entertainment business, that place is called a podium, and in political activities – the stage.
It was only the social and economic transition process of individual European states that finally showed the dangerous similarity between politics (as future history) and popular entertainment skills (as the eternal now). That similarity, tried, tested and carried to the level of perfect impudence, or impudent perfection, proved to be the ideal union of forces joined against the book. Catchwords were quickly created, along with the interfacing of populism and elitism. And since it was selectively intended for a small number of people, it worked against democracy which is, it goes without saying, intended for a large number of people, if not for everyone. There you have it – transitional dialectics!
The fact that, included in world heritage, there are books that arrive in the present from the past which are certain to survive in the immediate and perhaps distant future, only solidified the positioning of the attacker and the argument for the long-lasting.
The battle between the day-long and even slightly longer turned into the battle of the loud against the quiet (the latter being that way because of proper upbringing and not because of fear), the voice of secrecy against the vox populi, of insult versus tolerance, of the aggressive against the customary, of war against peace.
Who will achieve victory? Well, the victors.
Hopefully we’ve learned that much.
After the Sultan’s departure from Edirne, Bajica began to think again about Husrev-pasha’s previous visit. He was attracted by the pasha’s careful preparation for a successful welcome; setting the stage for the Sultan’s arrival. Everything had been done so that nothing would surprise the ruler, inconvenience him, or even disappoint him; but rather that each detail would await him as something expected, familiar and certain, in order to convince him that everything that happened was under control. Bajica realised that all this happened according to a plan made by the pasha. Furthermore, he concluded that the ability to foresee events was of exceptional importance for those in power: if one could only foresee all the possibilities, whether national or personal, and then make decisions that matched the possibilities and goals with the needs of a situation, then one could also determine the path to achieving those goals. This could, therefore, be called planning. Or politics.
In precisely the same way, one could avoid all the
