Svetislav Basara: The Cyclist Conspiracy

We, as a nation, entered civilization via the already formed spiritual and administrative system of Byzantium. I will not compare Constantinople and Rome at this point, nor do I give favor to one or the other. But the fact remains a fact. Quite by accident, yoked with the western character of our being, we found ourselves in the situation that, in historical terms quite recently, we bear the burden of a history that does not belong to us, that was imported because of simple fashionableness or, more likely, because of megalomania. A history has been imposed on us for which the west did not have the courage, and for which we — in the depths of our souls — do not have an affinity. That history was not imposed by historical necessity, but by the self-will of certain power-hungry demagogues. Fault, I repeat, should not be sought in the west or in the doctrines of the west. Every seed requires appropriate soil and we certainly could not miss the chance to excel, to finally prove to the world that we are someone and something. While I was still keeping up with the fashion whims of public opinion, I felt an irresistible attraction toward Stalin, and that drove me in the end to buy Dzhugashvili’s portrait and hang it on the wall of my room. I say: to this day I do not approve of his actions, which testifies to the fact that I am quite a hypocrite. Like you, like the vast majority, almost everyone, I do not approve of anyone’s actions, including my own, if they are not in accord with the list of my affinities. And this is why: in the depths of our souls, we all carry a damnable desire to be omnipotent. Only Providence inhibits that desire from overwhelming us in all its force, and we thus manage to embitter the lives of only a limited number of creatures, who return that to us in excess. Joseph Vissarionovich democratized, popularized, the urge to mistreat our loved ones and thus practically negated the idea to which he referred. With how much honesty, that will remain unknown. In other words, slowly but efficiently, the masses became aware that the rod swings both ways. Occasionally, it crosses my mind that Stalin was a mystic. Certainly, he was also a monster. But, what do we know about monsters? What do we know at all? I will quote one more interesting thought about monsters from the pen of R. Bloch: “They are the lightning that strikes to shake our conscience.” A divinity, if it appears for a time in order to disturb the normal flow of the universe, does not do so just like that, without a serious reason. And those reasons could be nothing other than the rage caused by ignoring a former alliance. Undoubtedly, Stalin remained Orthodox in the depths of his silence. In 1946, did he not ban the Ukrainian Catholic Church? Perhaps I am going too far, but I will still note that the possibility is not to be excluded that Stalin worked more in the interest of God than of the Comintern. Almost all of his actions indicate that it is so. It is quite possible that someone acts in accord with God’s will, while not thinking of God, just as it is also possible to perform unimaginable crimes with your mouth full of the praises of God. Things in this world are not divided at all in the sense that good is on one side and bad on the other. How can one find one’s way in all of that? I find my way by not wishing whatsoever to find my way. To find your way means to put yourself in error, to accept a defined model of thinking, and especially of speech; that means to finally choose this world which I am not at all interested in. I do not have any concept of how the Kingdom of Heaven looks, though I believe in it, not because I have evidence, but because I was inspired by a negative revelation, leading me to lose all faith in this world where we temporarily abide.

Bringing my work to an end in collecting the legacy of J. Kowalsky, I was once again touched (and surprised) by the kindness of Mr. Branko Kukić, who sent me a facsimile of Joseph Kowalsky’s letter, but which reached the addressee fourteen whole months after the newspapers announced the death of our hero. Not doubting its authenticity, and convinced that it might shed more light on the topic that we have been dealing with (e.g. the unambiguous fact that Kowalsky was a Serb by nationality, etc.), I decided to include it in this anthology.

S. B.

Over the last few decades, an exhaustive campaign has constantly been led concerning so-called freedom. The Evangelical Bicyclists of the Rose Cross consider it to be their duty to announce that the struggle for freedom is a commonplace lie; there is plenty of freedom, in fact too much, in the world, and it is properly distributed. It is impossible for a man to not be free, unless he wishes it to be otherwise. The research carried out by scholars, with the blessing of the Grand Master, indicates that something else is in question: the warriors for human rights are not seeking freedom but rather the freedom of self-will, the freedom for everyone to do whatever they want. Although in practice that ideal has practically been achieved, certain formal barriers — the rudimentary remains of morals, justice, humaneness — stand in the way to the completion of the old dream of humankind, the dream of complete freedom in life without any kind of limitations. Since the Little Brothers , in obedience to the message of the Savior, do not flee from evil nor do they fear it, the decision has been made to systematize evil, to plan the perfect Earthly City, in the streets of which the final battle between the sons of light and the sons of darkness can take place. And though objections will be heard that, by planning such a City, we are playing into the hands of evil, we, the Little Brothers of the Evangelical Bicyclists, are convinced that we are acting in accordance with Providence. Because, in order for the Tower of Babylon to finally be destroyed, it first had to be built.

After hundreds of years of silence, after long years of the patient work of the architects, philosophers and theologians, the time has come to break the seals of silence, to make the project public and to complete it in the very near future.

One way or another — man is an absurd being in the world. Whether he believes in the resurrection, or if he believes in the finality of death, he does not avoid the absurd: both choices are equally absurd. But, if he chooses the first absurd, can he lose anything except his reputation in the circles of the “enlightened”; can he more finally and irrevocably become nothing if he starts believing in the resurrection?

From the Renaissance onward, belief in one’s own mortality and in chance has become ever more a question of honor and today it almost impossible to find a self-respecting man who does not make a ridiculing face at the very mention of the immortality of the soul. To be fair, nothing can prove immortality — in a formal sense — but, likewise, nothing can prove the finality of death either. Both hypotheses are equally unprovable. To choose one or the other is not a matter of reasonable reflection, but of faith, in other words, it is a matter of making a decision.