Sacrifice and Atonement
The central motif of the book delves into the profound harm wrought throughout human history by the notion of sacrifice embedded within both Christian and pagan traditions. West perceives this concept as a pervasive force influencing various historical layers. Her revulsion crystallizes in Macedonia, where she witnesses a black lamb offered on a rocky altar during a fertility ritual. She is repulsed by the belief that inflicting pain and death upon one being might magically impart fertility to another.
West traces the roots of sacrifice back to the Christian doctrine of atonement, a notion she finds utterly objectionable. This doctrine, crafted by St. Paul and polished by St. Augustine, posits that God sacrificed His son upon the cross to absolve humanity of the sins that warranted punishment. West critiques this, stating:
This theory flouts reason at all points, for it is not possible that a just God should forgive people who are wicked because another person who was good endured agony by being nailed to a cross.
The Cultural Imprint of Sacrifice
The ripples of this doctrine have seeped deeply into Christian culture, instilling the belief that suffering is the currency of value. This ideology has fostered the notion that defeat harbors virtue, that cosmic justice somehow favors the self-sacrifice of the righteous. West identifies this mindset within the pacifism of 1930s Britain, which passively awaited the onslaught of Nazi aggression, reluctant to tarnish its hands with violence. She also discerns it in the Serb defeat at Kossovo in 1389. To bolster her point, she invokes the epic poem cherished by all Serbs, which recounts how, on the eve of battle, the prophet Elijah, disguised as a grey falcon, visited Tsar Lazar, the Serbian leader. The falcon inquired whether Lazar desired an earthly or a heavenly kingdom. The implication was clear—victory in the mortal realm or defeat for an eternal heavenly dominion. Lazar opted for the latter, choosing heavenly immortality over fleeting earthly triumph, sealing his fate and that of his army. In this decision, Lazar embraced sacrifice as a pathway to salvation.
Empires
The Destructive Nature of Empires
Throughout the narrative, the tapestry of imperial devastation is intricately woven. Rebecca West channels her formidable criticism towards two prominent empires: the Ottoman Empire, which held the Serbs under its heavy yoke, and the Austrian Empire, suffering from the chronic incompetence of the Habsburg dynasty. This latter entity, eventually transforming into the Austro-Hungarian Empire, met its demise in the aftermath of the cataclysmic World War I.
Imperialism: A Double-Edged Sword
Yet, West, who blossomed under the reign of the British Empire at its zenith, does not wholly denounce imperialism. She acknowledges its occasional "magnificence" in execution. An empire could propagate culture, advance technology, instill justice, and harness the natural world. However, empires are not invariably altruistic. Despite the British Empire's praiseworthy strides in granting self-rule to its dominions, it was not devoid of contradiction. The Roman Empire, too, at times obliterated more human endeavor than it nurtured. The shortcomings of imperial rule manifest starkly in the Balkans, where the Turks, as West portrays, ravaged Macedonia and old Serbia (including Kossovo), leaving their inhabitants destitute. Similar tales of desolation echo through Dalmatia under Venetian control, and Croatia under Hungary's dominion.
The Balkan chronicles reveal that when an empire overreaches, straying beyond its moral compass, chaos ensues.
Manichaeism and Historical Allegory
West delves into Manichaeism regarding Dalmatia’s past, finding it a profoundly symbolic philosophy. She employs it as a metaphorical lens through which to view history. West’s inclination to perceive in stark contrasts places the Germans and Turks amidst the shadows, while the Serbs,...
(This entire section contains 293 words.)
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largely, embody the luminescence. She perceives herself akin to a righteous Manichaean, navigating a world steeped in shadow, tasked with the intellectual discernment to unearth whatever gleams of light may reside within the obscurity.
Relationships between the Sexes
West delves into the intricate dance between genders, both at the intimate and societal scales, unraveling the tapestry of differences that define them. She perceives that men and women inhabit distinct realms of reality. Women tend to focus keenly on life's personal side, often sidelining the grand narrative of history. This narrow vision West dubs 'idiocy,' borrowing from the Greek term for 'private person.' In contrast, men are so engrossed in the public sphere that they miss the finer details; their vision is akin to seeing by moonlight, a phenomenon West calls 'lunacy.'
Throughout her journeys, she frequently encounters the stark realities of women's subjugation by men. She interprets the attire of Herzegovina's women—who don oversized, masculine coats that double as veils—as a manifestation of male animosity towards women. According to West, such garments are dictated by a male-dominated society harboring twisted perceptions of female physiques, seeking to belittle and obscure them. In such environments, women find happiness elusive. Men, she argues, oppress women partly out of a need for reassurance, craving a sense of superiority over them.
West's heart aches for the subjugated women of Macedonia, and she is incensed witnessing a young Kossovo peasant girl burdened with a ploughshare on her back, her husband idly walking beside her, hands unladen. West is repulsed by societies that impose such unfair labor on women, not only due to the unjust load they bear but because it simultaneously diminishes the men. In one of West's characteristic sweeping observations, she notes that men lose heart easily. When women demonstrate they can perform tasks as adeptly as men, the men often shy away, either turning adversarial towards their wives or regressing into dependency. This leaves women perplexed, as they expect men to embody strength.
Yet, occasionally, much to the dismay of some feminist critics, West appears to embrace conventional gender roles. In a phrase tinged with nostalgia, she writes of Dalmatia as a land 'where men are men and women are women.' She alludes to the robust vitality of Slavic men, sharply contrasting them with the supposedly weakened men of the West. In Bosnia, unlike Macedonia, she encounters women who, despite serving their husbands, enduring their violence, and walking while the men ride, seem liberated in spirit. On this occasion, West refrains from criticizing such customs, even though she recognizes the façade maintained by the women—adopting the men's belief in their own inferiority.
Running parallel to West's reflections on gender dynamics is her own marriage, which appears to be a model of civility and tolerance. Their disputes are purely intellectual, conducted in calm, respectful tones. She indulges her husband's quirks, and they seem to cherish each other's presence with a shared sense of humor. Each is genuinely concerned for the other's well-being. As a Macedonian chauffeur observes, with endearing simplicity, "Yes, they're fond of each other all right, look how close they are sitting and they aren't young either."
