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By:

Shoumojit Banerjee

27 August 2024 at 9:57:52 am

The Road to Europe’s Apocalypse

Vladimir Dedijer’s long-neglected The Road to Sarajevo remains one of the finest guides to the assassination that changed the course of the twentieth century. Later this month, on July 28th, the world will quietly pass the 112th anniversary of one of history’s defining moments. On that day in 1914, Austria-Hungary declared war on Serbia. Within days, Europe’s elaborate alliance system would lurch into motion. By August, the Continent, which had largely been at peace for nearly a century since...

The Road to Europe’s Apocalypse

Vladimir Dedijer’s long-neglected The Road to Sarajevo remains one of the finest guides to the assassination that changed the course of the twentieth century. Later this month, on July 28th, the world will quietly pass the 112th anniversary of one of history’s defining moments. On that day in 1914, Austria-Hungary declared war on Serbia. Within days, Europe’s elaborate alliance system would lurch into motion. By August, the Continent, which had largely been at peace for nearly a century since Napoleon’s defeat at Waterloo in 1815, was engulfed in the ‘war to end all wars.’ The First World War would claim more than 20 million lives, bring about the downfall of four empires, redraw maps from the Baltic to the Levant, and sow the seeds of Bolshevism, fascism and, lead ultimately to an even deadlier World War within the next two decades. The catastrophe that led to the First World War began with seven young conspirators waiting to assassinate Archduke Franz Ferdinand – the heir presumptive to the Austro-Hungarian throne - on the streets of Sarajevo on June 28, 1914. Few episodes in modern history have generated so vast a literature from so small a stage. By 1939 itself, as Europe stood on the brink of World War Two, nearly 3,000 books and pamphlets had already appeared on Franz Ferdinand’s assassination. Among this formidable library stands one unjustly neglected masterpiece. Yugoslav author-politician Vladimir Dedijer’s Road to Sarajevo, published in 1966. It deserves to stand beside other great ‘origin’ classics of WW1, namely Luigi Albertini’s monumental The Origins of the War of 1914 (1942-43); Barbara Tuchman’s riveting narrative history The Guns of August (1962) and Christopher Clark’s celebrated The Sleepwalkers (2012). If Albertini reconstructed the tangled diplomacy that led to the Great War, Tuchman recreated the drama and Clark the intricacies of the European system, Dedijer illuminated something that few authors could ever possess on the subject -the historical and political psychology of Bosnia and its peculiar political turbulence. Tangled Geopolitics As a Bosnian Serb by birth and a Partisan fighter under Tito during the Second World War, Dedijer, later to become one of the former Yugoslavia’s foremost historians, brought to the origins of the First World War not merely archival diligence but an intimate understanding of the land, its people and the tangled skein of its many ethnic nationalisms. What distinguishes Road to Sarajevo from the shelves groaning with WW1 books is the balance of its historical imagination. Dedijer understood that Sarajevo was simultaneously a provincial Bosnian town and the fault line of European geopolitics. He neither elevates the 19-year-old Gavrilio Princip – the student activist and Franz Ferdinand’s assassin - into a nationalist martyr nor reduces him to a terrorist in search of notoriety. Princip emerges as a product of a peculiar political ecology born from the cauldron of Habsburg rule, South Slav nationalism, youthful idealism and the febrile atmosphere created by the Balkan Wars. Few historians have so convincingly captured the tension between individual agency and the larger historical forces that converged on June 28, 1914. Conspiracy Theories One of the book’s great pleasures lies in its treatment of the extraordinary historiography surrounding the assassination. Dedijer is less interested in peddling yet another grand theory than in forensically dissecting the countless theories that others invented. The result being that The Road to Sarajevo reads like a controlled Umberto Eco novel – a febrile, yet historically grounded thriller populated by diplomats, spies, policemen, Freemasons, revolutionaries and ambitious politicians - each cast in successive generations as the hidden puppeteer pulling the strings on that fateful day in Sarajevo. Almost immediately after the Archduke’s assassination, the hunt for invisible hands began. The American historian Sidney B. Fay, whose landmark The Origins of the World War (1928) overturned the simplistic Versailles thesis that Germany alone bore responsibility for the conflict, accused Serbia of failing to warn Vienna despite prior knowledge of the conspiracy. Bernadotte E. Schmitt’s meticulous two-volume The Coming of the War, 1914 (1930) reconstructed the July Crisis with exemplary scholarship while Pierre Renouvin, himself a decorated veteran of the Great War, subjected the diplomatic record to equally rigorous scrutiny in Les Origines immédiates de la guerre (1925). Dedijer catalogues these competing claims with enviable detachment. Few crimes in modern history have attracted so many imaginary accomplices. Alfred von Wegerer, the German authority on the Sarajevo assassination, writing in 1937, suspected a Bolshevik hand behind the deed. His argument rested largely on testimony extracted from Karl Radek - the brilliant, caustic Polish-born Bolshevik intellectual - during Stalin’s infamous Moscow show trials. Leon Trotsky, who had visited Serbia several times before 1914 and knew some members of the revolutionary circles surrounding Princip, inevitably found himself drawn into the speculation, though he had consistently opposed individual acts of terrorism as a revolutionary method. Others found darker conspirators. Father Anton Puntigam, the Jesuit priest who administered the last rites to Franz Ferdinand, believed that international Freemasonry had engineered the assassination. Count Ottokar Czernin, later Austro-Hungarian Foreign Minister and one of the Archduke’s closest associates, claimed Franz Ferdinand himself had confided that Freemasons intended to murder him. Under Nazi rule, such allegations acquired an unmistakably antisemitic colouring. Hitler’s party paper - Völkischer Beobachter - described Princip as both a Jew and a Freemason - a grotesque fabrication entirely in keeping with the conspiratorial obsessions of the Third Reich. Wickham Steed, the influential British journalist and historian, suggested remarkable negligence on the part of Sarajevo’s security arrangements while others hinted that the Hungarian Prime Minister, Count István Tisza, had maintained secret contacts with Colonel Dragutin Dimitrijević - better known by his nom de guerre ‘Apis’ - the formidable chief of Serbian military intelligence and guiding spirit behind the clandestine Black Hand organisation. Franz Ferdinand’s own family entered the debate. His eldest son, Max Hohenberg, accused the German secret service of complicity. The charge proved inconvenient after Hitler annexed Austria in 1938; Max and his younger brother soon found themselves imprisoned at Dachau. In one of history’s stranger ironies, Hitler himself later blamed British intelligence for the 1914 assassination while justifying his invasion of Yugoslavia in 1941. A.J.P. Taylor, in his delightful review of Dedijer’s book for The New Yorker in 1966, observed that almost everybody eventually found themselves accused. Serbia, Russia, Germany, Britain, Hungary, the Bolsheviks and even American anarchists - all appeared, at one time or another, in the dock for Franz Ferdinand’s assassination. Taylor’s own description of Dedijer remains one of the finest appreciations of the man: “He is a Yugoslav, not a Serb nationalist, and is not committed either to Pasic, the Serbian prime minister, or to Apis, the head of the Black Hand (though he was once dandled on Apis’s knee as a little boy).” Few historians have enjoyed quite such a colourful connection to their subject. Perhaps that explains the book’s extraordinary confidence. Dedijer neither sensationalises nor dismisses these theories. He simply lays them before the reader, examines their evidentiary foundations and wryly allows most of them to collapse under their own improbability. Every generation invents the conspiracy it deserves. Just as the assassination of Julius Caesar generated tales of omens and prophecies, and the murder of John F. Kennedy continues to nourish an endless conspiracy industry, Sarajevo has repeatedly become a screen onto which successive political eras have projected their own anxieties. But the book is perhaps even more vital - and rewarding - beyond the assassination itself. Behind Princip’s pistol stood decades of imperial rivalry, the slow retreat of Ottoman power, the ambitions unleashed by Italian and German unification, and the unresolved ‘Eastern Question’ that had vexed European statesmen since the Congress of Vienna. More signally, Dedijer anticipated a truth that later events would painfully confirm. The collapse of Yugoslavia in the 1990s and the brutality it unleashed demonstrated that the region’s history was a bottled djinn of unresolved grievances. Once uncorked, the questions of identity, sovereignty and historical grievance that animated Princip’s generation resurfaced, in a far more violent form, during the wars in Bosnia and Kosovo. There are books that answer historical questions. There are rarer books that teach readers how history itself is constructed. The Road to Sarajevo belongs firmly in the latter category. More than sixty years after its publication, this rich, humane and intellectually honest work deserves to find a new generation of readers.

Bharat’s Jetson Cities, Light-years Away from Nature

Updated: Jan 20, 2025

Jetson Cities

One thing is for certain: our Bharatiya cities, the big metros and towns, are fast becoming like the ‘Jetson’ cities. For those who are unaware of Jetson cities, these were first shown in the famous Hanna-Barbera cartoon series, the Jetsons, set in the 2100s, where cities are air-tight glass globules tethered to the ground, and the only way to get in and out are the flying cars. Yes, we, the city-dwellers, aspire to tall skyscrapers, spectacular bridges, world-class tunnels, swooshing metro trains, and we are building Jetson-like flying cars. A few HD drone images here and there, during the day and at night and around twilight, and we are content that our cities have become the cynosure of our own eyes. We want our cities to be brightly lit, with neon signs, laser shows, and large billboard videos. We would then fulfil our inner desire to have a city on par with Tokyo, New York, and Shanghai.


Our buildings, designed for the next 30 years, are well air-conditioned, shielding occupants from a soupy dust bowl of brown smog, soot, particulate matter, and fine dust. It is said that most new home buyers invest at least 10% of their property’s price in enhancing the interiors, soundproofing their homes, using air purifiers and conditioners, and disconnecting from the outside world for that much-needed solace. Indeed, large builders promote their projects as close to nature amidst tranquillity. However, there is always another builder eager to get one plot of land ahead of yours to enjoy that nature. To be truthful, access to nature now comes at a premium - even the skies.


Let’s assume the working-age population is occupied in the leisure of our Jetson cities, but how many of their young school and college-going kids have seen the long arm of the Milky Way galaxy from their cities? How many have witnessed a comet zooming by? How many know about endemic plants with medicinal properties? When did they last see a chirping house sparrow? How many know that the nearest sewage drain was once a freshwater stream? When did they last find their suburban beach prettier than the resort beaches of Maldives?


The intent to ask these questions is simple: Bharat is currently at a crossroads. Pundits are enthusiastic about a cultural renaissance on the horizon. Corporate leaders, on the other hand, want us to invest hundreds of hours each week to pay our dues to the growth of the national GDP. But no one asks, if a cultural renaissance is to occur, who will generate the new understandings and insights of nature that arise typically during such a period of human advancement? No one is actually asking, for whom are we building the nation if there is no time for children, or worse, if there is no time or intent to have children. In the process of growing rich, we are about to become old. By 2047, 65% of the population under the age of 35 will grow beyond 35 all at once, and we’d have an enormous population in advanced ages with a tapering young population, a graph that looks like a banyan tree. Unfortunately, that young population will have no access to the knowledge that nature has to offer, neither flora and fauna nor the seas and the skies.


Our urbane lifestyles need tempering. Such tempering can occur only if we ensure the revival of natural sciences during this period of cultural renaissance and nation-building. Let’s not rely solely on the educational system. With Indian Knowledge Systems, constructive changes are underway, and academic curricula are poised to improve for the greater good. However, true knowledge arises only when parents and grandparents introduce children to nature. Genuine understanding also develops from extracurricular activities in schools and colleges that encourage kids to observe, journal, and act on their discoveries. On the positive side, our country’s forest cover is increasing, as announced by the government. However, efforts must be made to ensure that every school or college, whether in Mumbai, Vijayawada, Gorakhpur, Ratlam, Thrissur, Bhuj, Faridabad, Imphal, Manali, Cuttack, or Ajmer, guarantees that their students are well aware of the endemic nature of their surroundings and are regularly observing and recording data on whatever interests them. Let kids observe rivers and understand the volume of water that flows through them. Let children learn about the decline of house sparrows in their cities and what steps should be taken to revive their populations. Let them study the bees in their nearby groves and recognise the vital role these bees play in nature.


Of course, you need to learn AI, robotics, fintech, the next generation of management courses, and all the engineering bells and whistles. However, we must not leave the next generation with inadequate comprehension and skills for understanding nature. We must ensure that nature conservation is not merely lip service or a tool for politicised green activists. This can be achieved if natural sciences are given the respect they deserve at the school, undergraduate, and postgraduate levels.


Indeed, I am a plebeian, and you might feel that you, too, could write a rant about the plight of our urban lives. Urban development and municipal experts have many solutions to propose, but few are willing to take action. However, that is not the issue I wish to highlight. I aim to illustrate a much larger concern—that Indian city dwellers are disoriented and devoid of nature, lacking a guiding star to lead them toward a brighter future. Our cities of Mumbai, Delhi, Bengaluru, Ahmedabad, Kolkata, and Chennai have taken on characteristics reminiscent of Jetson-like cities. We show little regard for the Nagar Devata, Gram Devata, and Van Devata, who have protected the cities, towns, and forests that once surrounded us. We wait for formal governance to clean up our beaches, rivers, and ponds without making sufficient efforts to prevent pollution in the first place.


For those striving to grasp spirituality not through the Puranas and Aadi-Granth but through new-age podcasts, I recommend watching Vinay Varanasi’s podcast on Bhagavan Vishnu’s Dashavatar. If it is clear that Bhagavan Vishnu does not tolerate disregard for Bhudevi or Mother Earth, why do we, the devotees of Bhagavan Vishnu, continue to pollute our Mother Earth—her air, soil, waters, and sounds? Or have we taken Elon Musk's words at face value, assuming our next destination is Mars after destroying Earth, only to ruin Mars later, even worse than its current clinically sterile state? If that is the case, then bear with me when I say this: these Jetson cities stand on precarious pillars of ego, victimhood, apathy, and consumerism, waiting to be toppled either by the true harbingers of order or by false prophets. Therefore, teach the next generations to observe nature, appreciate our coexistence with other species, and venerate the forces of nature. By doing so, we humans will be good, at least for the next thousand years. If not, prepare for a bleak future by the end of this century.


(The author is a Space and Emerging Technology Fellow at the Centre for Security, Strategy and Technology, Observer Research Foundation, Mumbai. Views personal.)

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