Memorie.al / Our time, an era of pleonasms and overproduction, are also filled with Prophets who prophesy the “End of Europe.” Really? So soon? Has the youth of yesterday already grown old and started to give up the ghost? Its first traces of life do not exceed the 12th century. Yet, its true birth date is even more recent. Even phantom Asia, the poorest of the earliest generation, could tell us this. The faith in the “God-Man,” who came and went like some “VISION” twenty centuries ago, still reigns even today.
Byzantium, that cruel and mournful name, stood for more than a thousand years. Its shadow alone lived for five centuries. But Europe? Is it finished? – False! At the foothills of the Urals, its voice is thundering. Its spirit has just reached the sinful plains of forgotten Asia. Europe entered Asia a century and a half ago. Now that it is departing, moving backward, precisely now is when it truly enters it.
Europe has burrowed deep into the heads, the blood, and the souls of its former captives. Wherever they entered, the horizon changed instantly. In the vast, dry, endless steppes, trees that cast shadows are beginning to sprout, so much so that the fourth sky of the land of myth and dream is being filled with black smoke, released by a new God: THE MACHINE.
For a century and a half, aged Asia, this cradle of faiths and Theocracies, was playing with its trifles. Its hand, slender and sentimental, was writing verses and playing games. It did not wish to trade its soul for the power of the Machine. It feared the most advanced weaponry and the superior knowledge of the conqueror as if they were a sin. It sought its salvation through the patient and endless denial of Theocracy.
There, within, it had imprisoned its soul. But its shame remained outside. Thus, by hiding the soul and leaving the body exposed, it imagined it would be saved. It was saved only as much as that poor bird can be saved, which hides only its head in the sand to escape the hunter’s bullets!… Dearly did Asia pay for its blindness? It became a slave.
One hundred and fifty years passed for Asia to awaken. Its brow was illuminated through and through by a white flame. Its passion is unbridled, wild, and vengeful. But the Theocrats have dwindled. Now, she demands the Machine, she believes in the Machine – with that same love, that same passion with which until yesterday she believed in her silken sorrows and her silver vases. She then takes this idolatrous machinisim and melts it thoroughly within the flame of her sufferings, for one hundred and fifty years in a row.
She, too, has nostalgia for Civilization and for the great Technique of today, not only from the perspective of utility, but especially with the resolve of national liberation. In Russia, in Turkey, in Persia, in India, the nostalgia for the salvation of the Asian is boiling. Asia is coming to its senses – for the sake of Europe.
The wandering “EURASIA” of Trubetzkoy, this piece of land between Europe and Asia, what becomes of it? – Its peoples are breathing deeply. Its democracies are increasing. It is a sign that they, too, have entered a period of internal fermentation. The social and economic map of various small nations, from the troubled waters of the Aegean to the shores of the true sea of Finland, was until yesterday bearing the bruises of a silent decline.
However, they have arrived at the most characteristic period of their long suffering: the period of NATIONAL REALITIES.
– The foreigners withdrew almost on their own, after losing their blind captives. But the sons of the captives, raised in sorrow and cruelty, strive to plant the flag of a new life upon the dark ruins of the despised tower. Because they believe in the dynamism and productivity of their peoples. Europe emptied our pockets, but it filled our souls./Memorie.al
