Children Without Parents

History is a making and breaking of myths and cults, and all debates as to whether they are useful or detrimental are very complicated, and pointless. With regard to this subject it can only be concluded that there is a global tendency towards decreasing the scope of myths and their easy and swift substitution with new ones. This is why we remember better times and feel an undefined nostalgia for things which once seemed big and long-lasting, but the roads back to them have been lost forever. One such ancient myth is the one about St. Sava, for the Serbs undoubtedly the greatest, because it comes at the beginning and it is believed that the Serbs' roots and identity should be looked for in it. To question St. Sava is blasphemy of a kind that can only be permitted those who know all about their beginnings, who know that the challenging of the undisputable can only enrich them and take them further. It follows that blasphemy is a serious business. In their better days, the Serbs knew how to do so, and there is no better symptom of a serious national crisis than the current attempts at returning to the oldest of myths. The contents of the myth, and all the attributes linked to the name of St. Sava, present a surprisingly complete list of all that which Serbia sorely lacks. St. Sava was the founder of the Serbian Orthodox Church, i.e. a moral code; he drew up the first set of rules which can be considered as legislature; he was responsible for literacy and education; and finally, eight centuries ago, he was a successful negotiator and diplomat. A return to these forgotten, neglected and rejected virtues and skills has become a tragic necessity. Tragic, because Serbia must discover once more something it possessed eight centuries ago, at a time when the world declares last year's discoveries as being outdated.

In all this, it is unpleasant to know that a fashion from the end of the 12th and beginning of 13th centuries under the appellation the spirit of St. Sava, had already been launched in the world during the last century and in this one, which leaves a rather defeated impression that the present desolation is really a state of permanence. As if this country never moves from the beginning, but goes back to it as soon as it has made a step or two forward. The spirit of St. Sava, is of course, an ideological fabrication without content, or, as Byzantologist Dimitrije Obolenski says kindly: "If the expression the spirit of St. Sava is not the same as Orthodox Christianity (in which case it is superfluous), then it can be described as being too abstruse."

In Serbia, the word is in use with a meaning which, if I understand it properly, is not so much a matter of religion as it is of morality. One says for example: "we will treat him in the spirit of St. Sava", which implies a special Serbian moral, different, and without doubt, greater than the ordinary kind. It seems a bit insane, but this could be forgiven, if it were upheld, if the spirit of St. Sava were not invoked by liars, looters and criminals. It turns out that St. Sava is their patron saint.

St. Sava was probably not aware of the depth of the schism in Christianity and threw his lot in with the Eastern Church through an accident of circumstances. He was certainly the greater enemy of the Bogomils and Serbian paganism at the time than Rome, which sent his brother Stefan a crown. Orthodoxy later, gradually became a part of the Serbian identity, and there is nothing specific about the Serbian Orthodox creed. Like the Russians, the Serbs always remembered their "spirituality" when they feared destruction and hoped for salvation, which do not seem to be dependent on them, but to come from somewhere outside. I do not know if this originates from Orthodoxy itself, but such a stand certainly absolves one from obligations and responsibility, so that nations which give themselves over to it, start resembling children without parents.

The real Rastko Nemanjic (later to become St. Sava) must have been an exceptional personality in the Byzantine Commonwealth (Obolenski) and it is not unusual that he is the hero of national legends in which he plays many different roles, of which the one about the tamer of wolves is of great importance. In pre-Christian times, the wolf was a Serbian totem, which meant that St. Sava was correctly interpreted as the protector and tamer, or law giver. His Krmcija (Book Of The Helmsman) is not very original with regard to Byzantine cannons, but it had great influence on church and civil laws, even outside Serbia.

The nation embodying the spirit of St. Sava has not gone far in this respect, judging by the number of untamed wolves, and the rapacious laws it has embraced. The return to St. Sava is an expression of the need for a helmsman and a tamer. It is difficult to endure the descent into a state of lawlessness, and it is not possible to pull out of such a state only through sheer force, except temporarily and in a specious manner. The law must gratify the general feeling of justice, it must be acceptable to the people as a whole and it must be brought by an undisputed and undivided authority. The manner in which laws are being brought about in this country now, retains the habit of their being implemented and observed relatively or occasionally. Even the most fundamental legal acts are not expected to last for more than a year or two. This means that the laws follow society's chaotic staggering, instead of strengthening order, foreseeing and directing possible changes for at least a decade in advance.

The problem does not lie in the fact that this nation cannot be made to respect order, but because a good law limits authority. But, a device has long been discovered here by which authority is cleansed of responsibility. An unrealistic, unworkable law is adopted, a regulation which cannot be observed, but looks good on paper and then the authorities strive towards it, while the uncivilized people fight against it.

In order to obtain an idea of how the people have been enlightened, it is necessary to imagine St.Sava, the enlightener and symbol of literacy in the company of Serbian Minister of Education Danilo Z. Markovic. For half the nation, letters remain a mystery and writing an unnatural, blasphemous skill. Education is no longer fashionable; the belief that it leads nowhere is being encouraged. The elections showed that education leads one astray, into a minority and disfavor. The people must return to initial values such as folk poetry, magic, sorcery and superstitions.

Finally, the task of returning to St. Sava the great traveller and diplomat is an urgent one. The way things stand between this country and the rest of the world, St. Sava would not get very far in convincing anyone in the "truth about Serbia." I do not see why it is necessary to seek lessons from St. Sava on opening up to the world. But, if that is the only way, then let it be.

The problem, however, lies in the fact that this spirit of St. Sava idyll has different and contrary motives and intentions. Just as the adjective Socialist was once used to annul the nouns moral, rights, spirit, the spirit of St. Sava is now beginning to mean lawlessness, backwardness and lack of vision. St. Sava, of course, has nothing to do with all this; quite the contrary. Whoever calls on St. Sava's legacy, has no reason to call on his name, since this legacy is a part of civilization. Whoever calls on St. Sava more than custom and feast days demand, is doing so with the intention of hiding behind his myth all that which is a departure from this civilization and which rejects it. This is a return which makes the distance even greater.