‘Ovaj pasji život na robiji mnogo lakše sam podnosio dok Hrvati nisu imali svoju državu’

Zvonko Bušić vjerovao je kako dobre stvari trebaju biti dostupne svima. Ono za što je živio, radio i vjerovao, za što je podnio žrtvu, objavljeno je u knjizi “Zdravo oko”, koja je dostupna na Amazonu. pod nazivom “All Visible Things”. Taj djelić hrvatske povijesti odsad ćete moći čitati svake druge srijede na hrvatskom i engleskom jeziku, na portalu dijaspora.hr. Poglavlje po poglavlje, kap krvi po kap krvi i život dan po dan u 33 dijela – samo s jednim ciljem! Trajat će…

Susret

Po svemu sudeći, čovjek može tek donekle određivati smjer svoga vlastitog života i pod danim okolnostima biti kovač svoje sudbine. Međutim, nitko ne može izabrati vrijeme i mjesto svojega rođenja, ne može odlučivati u kojemu povijesnom razdoblju će doći na svijet niti kakvoj obitelji i kojemu narodu će pripadati. To je volja Božja, a zna se da su planovi Božji tajanstveni. Zato je uzaludno tražiti odgovore na mnoga pitanja – jesu li sva novorođena djeca isto nevina, i ako jesu, zašto je, recimo, jednima suđeno da se rode u imućnima ili kraljevskim obiteljima, a drugima u obiteljima siromaha i prosjaka, trećima u zdravim i čestitim obiteljima, četvrtima u obiteljima gubavaca i zločinaca.

Ili zašto se neka djeca rađaju u slobodi i mirnim vremenima, a druga baš kad topovi najžešće gruvaju. Ali pored tih važnih i neumoljivih činjenica vezanih uz rođenje, čovjeka i na njegovu životnomu putu čekaju raznoliki i iznenađujući susreti, i znaju mu se sasvim iznenada dogoditi stvari koje obično tumačimo pukim slučajnostima.

Međutim, s obzirom na to da upravo taj slučajni susret ili događaj ponekad stubokom promijeni smjer i tijek nečijeg života, veliko je pitanje – jesu li susreti slučajni ili sudbinski. Na ta pitanja pravi odgovor zna samo dragi Bog, dok mi smrtnici o tome možemo samo nagađati. Jedan susret u zatvoru već potkraj mojih zatvorskih dana potvrdio mi je da i neki od mojih supatnika iz američkih zatvora dobro uočavaju moju prednost, što sam se u američkom zatvoru našao spletom apsurdnih okolnosti, a ne zbog kriminalne prošlosti. U koliko-toliko slobodnom društvu nikada ne bih napravio nikakav prekršaj, možda prometni. A opet, oteo sam američki zrakoplov, štoviše dva zrakoplova, i s njima preletio dva kontinenata i jedan ocean. To je moralo završiti smrću ili dugogodišnjom robijom.

Kada pljačkaš banke ide u akciju, on na zatvor računa kao na nezgodu na poslu, a ljudi su u većini slučajeva dovoljno optimisti da vjeruju da ih neće uloviti. Međutim, kada kreće u otmicu zrakoplova, borcu za nacionalnu slobodu na umu je samo izvršiti planirano, a na posljedice svoga čina po osobnu sudbinu unaprijed je spreman. Vjerujem da su me moja spremnost na žrtvu i ljubav prema domovini održali.

No, da se vratim na spomenuti susret. Dakle, u petak ujutro 21. studenoga 2004. stražar je nekoliko puta izvikivao moje ime dodajući da imam posjet. Za nekoliko minuta našao sam se kod izlaza iz bloka i dok sam čekao da se otvore električne rešetke i propuste me u hodnik, očujem da mi se netko iza leđa obraća pitanjem: „Oprosti mi, ali moram te nešto pitati. Je li tebe stražar zvao za posjet i je li ti ime Bušić?“. Hladno mu uzvratim da sam taj i pozorno ga pogledam. Nato je on, očito uzbuđen, nastavio: „O Bože moj, ne mogu vjerovati, ovo nije moguće, opet mi oprosti, vidim da ni ti mene ne prepoznaješ, a mi smo prije mnogo godina bili vrlo dobri prijatelji. Sjećaš li se zašto si me prozvao Američkim Epikurijancem, i kako smo značenje toga naziva drugima uvijek morali objašnjavati“.

„A ti si“, upadnem mu u riječ, „mene prozvao Hrvatskim Stoikom, a to je bilo u Atlantskoj kaznionici, negdje u drugoj polovici godine 1977., dakle prije punih 26 godina.“ Dok sam to izgovarao, saletjele su me davne uspomene iz prvih robijaških dana i u mojoj se glavi ukaza slika čovjeka u kasnim tridesetim godinama. Snažna i atletski građena čovjeka, ali s izrazito inteligentnim licem i gotovo dječjim manirama. Obojica smo bili propali studenti s burnom prošlošću i nismo se lako uklapali u zatvorsku sredinu te smo tako postali vrlo bliski prijatelji. Zajedno smo vježbali i trčali, čitali iste knjige i vodili mnoge zanimljive razgovore o ondašnjoj svjetskoj politici i filozofiji povijesti, o našim vrlo različitim životnim iskustvima, te kako su nas tako različite putovi doveli u isti zatvor. Nakon nepunih godinu dana premješten sam iz Atlante i tako su se zameli naši tragovi, da bi se, evo danas, igrom sudbine naši putovi opet ukrižili. Ali sada preda mnom stoji vrlo mršav i očito iscrpljen čovjek, gotovo potpuno ćelav i s naboranim staračkim licem.

Priđemo jedan drugomu i čvrsto se zagrlimo, a kad sam ga ponovno pogledao, zapazih suze u njegovim zelenim očima, dok on s velikim uzbuđenjem tek izusti – „Vjeruj mi, da me nikada nijedan susret nije ovako uzbudio niti obradovao – reci mi, prijatelju stari, kako je moj vrlo davno izgubljeni, ali nikad zaboravljeni Hrvatski Stoik?“

Kažem mu da se, sve u svemu, još dosta dobro držim, a da i sam može vidjeti koliko sam osijedio i oćelavio, te dodajem da, nakon četvrt stoljeća, naš ponovni susret i mene uistinu jako raduje. Nato je on, da bi me poštedio od pitanja koja je, vjerojatno, čitao u momu pogledu, brzo dodao – “Od mene, kao što i sam vidiš, nije mnogo ostalo i moji su dani već odbrojeni”. Rešetke se otvaraju da me propuste u hodnik, ali ja se ne mičem, stojim i gledam čovjeka kojega sam se više puta sjetio i često se pitao je li živ ili mrtav, je li slobodan ili u zatvoru, što radi i o čemu sanja.

Kažem stražaru da sam zaboravio iskaznicu i da se moram vratiti u ćeliju i uzeti je. Prijatelja povedem sa sobom da bih ga mogao upitati, što se to s njim događa. Kada smo stigli u ćeliju, na njega sam gotovo zavikao –„Za ime Božje, reci mi, otkud ti ovdje, kolika ti je kazna i zašto su ti dani odbrojeni?“ – „Ne sada, jer na te čekaju u sobi za posjete, idi, pa kad se vratiš, pričat ću ti. Imamo skoro sedam sati, narazgovarat ćemo se.” Pitam, zašto imamo samo sedam sati i inzistiram da mi najglavnije stvari može za minutu ispričati. „Dobro, kad si već toliko navalio. Iz Atlantskoga zatvora otpušten sam 1989. godine i nakon nepune tri godine, zbog pljačkanja banke opet uhićen. Dobio sam novih 40 godina, a od stare kazne još sam dugovao deset, tako da su mi i tužitelj i sudac cinično poželjeli da svoj stoti rođendan proslavim na slobodi. Proteklih 12 godina robijao sam na nekoliko mjesta, a kad sam prije pet mjeseci premješten u ovaj zatvor, na rutinskom liječničkom pregledu utvrdili su da imam vrlo opaku vrstu raka i da se već podosta proširio.

Kada mi je liječnik, s očito lažnom sućuti, priopćio da ću možda živjeti još sedam-osam mjeseci, rekoh mu da se za me ne treba brinuti, jer da i onako nemam života, nego bez ikakve nade za slobodom polagano i svakodnevno umirem te da će ovom starom ratniku smrt doći kao izbavljenje. On mi je izdao potvrdu da ne moram ništa raditi, i otada živim vrlo povučeno tako da sam u dvorištu bio svega dva-tri puta, a osim neredovitih odlazaka u menzu, gotovo stalno sjedim u ćeliji i čitam“, ispričao mi je moj daleki prijatelj u samo nekoliko trenutaka, dalje nastavljajući: „Sutra, vjerojatno prije zore, odlazim za Springfield, a ti znaš da je to zatvor s bolnicom i mrtvačnicom, i da je to posljednja postaja za sve savezne zatvorenike koji su se, zbog starosti ili zbog bolesti, primakli svojemu kraju. Sinoć su mi naredili da sve svoje osobne stvari moram danas prijaviti kako bi ih pregledali i poštom poslali u Springfield. Jutros sam u jednu kartonsku kutiju pospremio svu svoju životnu imovinu i čekao da me pozovu da je odnesem na pregled.

Eto, tako sam umjesto svoga, čuo jedno poznato mi ime pa sam se požurio raspitati. Bez obzira je li to bila puka slučajnost, ili nam je bilo suđeno da se još jednom vidimo, sretan sam što smo se pronašli i prepoznali. A sada ja tebe moram upitati, reci mi, u par riječi, što se dogodilo s onim tvojim suborcima i tvojom Oregankom?”

Uzimam englesko izdanje Ljubavnika i luđaka i, dok mu ga pružam, kažem da su sva trojica mojih suboraca puštena iz zatvora prije 15 godina. Zatim dodam da može, ako hoće, sjediti u mojoj ćeliji pa se uputim prema sobi za posjete pritisnut teškim mislima i davnim uspomenama. Došao me posjetiti gosp. dr. Krešimir Piršl iz hrvatskoga veleposlanstva u Washingtonu. U posljednjih smo nekoliko godina više puta razgovarali telefonom, a sad smo se, evo, i susreli. Još sam pod jakim dojmom prijateljeve priče pa mu, nakon što smo se pozdravili i sjeli, ukratko pripovjedim o momu iznenadnu susretu. On me pažljivo sluša, ali ne znam koliko se može uživjeti jer je i sam pod dojmom prvoga ulaska u moju zatvorsku tvrđavu i susreta sa mnom.

Razgovaramo otvoreno mijenjajući teme i izmjenjujući mišljenja. Vrijeme je nekako brzo proteklo i on mora ići. Dižemo se, pozdravljamo i on odlazi. Na me je ostavio dobar i ugodan dojam. Osjećam da nije došao samo zbog službene, nego i ljudske dužnosti, a vjerojatno i zbog znatiželje da osobno vidi gdje i kako svoju kaznu izdržava čovjek koji među svim hrvatskim robijašima protekloga stoljeća, drži tužni rekord najdužega zatočeništva.

Vrativši se u ćeliju, nađem prijatelja kako sjedi i čita Ljubavnike i luđake i zapažam da je već pročitao više od dvije trećine knjige. Kaže mi da se, osim što je išao predati svoje stvari, nikamo nije micao, da je cijelo vrijeme čitao i da ga knjiga nevjerojatno zanima. On autoricu hvali do neba i kuje u zvijezde. Kaže da mu je teško vjerovati da u današnjoj Americi ima takvih žena, i da bi on bio presretan da se u životu namjerio na jednu koja bi i djelomice imala vrline i kvalitete poput Julie. Zato meni preporučuje da, unatoč svemu trebam biti sretan što imam takvu ženu i da bih trebao ljubiti njezine stope. Na to sam s podsmijehom dodao, da se slažem da Julie zaslužuje mnoge pohvale, ali da ipak pretjeruje i da ljubljenje stopa zaboravi, jer ne samo da to nije moj stil, nego je Julie dosta posebna i komplicirana osoba, koja bi, vjerojatno, stopoljupca brzo pregazila i odletjela mu.

On se nato od srca nasmijao pa smo, nakon kratkoga i općenitoga razgovora o ženama, promijenili temu. Godine 1977. savezni je zatvor u Atlanti držao gotovo dvije i pol tisuće okorjelih robijaša i bio je svojevrsna džungla sa stotinjak raznih bandi i grupacija. Kao što svaka ptica svomu jatu leti, zatvorske su skupine formirane uglavnom po rasnoj, etničkoj i zavičajnoj pripadnosti, a strah i potreba čuvanja vlastitih leđa jamči privrženost i lojalnost članova grupe. Baš onda kad sam boravio u Atlanti, u nepunih godinu dana, među zatvorenicima je bilo 17 ubojstava i mnogo više ranjavanja. Stjecajem vrlo čudnih okolnosti možda bih i ja tada zaglavio u Atlanti, da mi nije pomogao ovaj stari ratnik s kojim upravo razgovaram.

Naime, nepuna dva tjedna nakon što sam stigao u Atlantu, jednoga mi je jutra, još dok sam spavao, netko u glavu zadao teški udarac željeznom cijevi. Na moju sreću, udarac me nije onesvijestio. Još iz ležećega položaja napadača sam instinktivno udario nogom u trbuh i munjevitom se brzinom našao na nogama. Pred sobom sam vidio dvojicu crnaca s noževima i trećega na vratima ćelije. Ni dan danas mi nije jasno, što se u tomu trenutku dogodilo i zašto su se crnci uplašili i pobjegli. Glava mi je krvarila pa sam otišao u zatvorsku bolnicu, gdje mi je liječnički pomoćnik s nekoliko konaca zašio ranu. Rekao sam mu da mi je pri dizanju utega nekakva poluga pala na glavu.

Kad sam isti odgovor dao zatvoreniku, koji je ribao bolnički hodnik, on me dobroćudno pogleda i reče: „Meni slobodno možeš reći istinu, a možda ti je i pomoć potrebna“. Ispričao sam mu što mi se dogodilo dodajući da sam Hrvat i da sam stigao tek prije desetak dana, da nikoga ne poznajem i da se ni s kim nisam niti pririječio te da mi je vrlo zagonetno tko me i zašto napao. Kada sam na njegovo pitanje, jesam li ja vođa hrvatskih zračnih gusara, odgovorio potvrdno, on nastavi: “Nedavno je u lokalnim novinama bio članak o tebi, da si stigao u Atlantu, da si desničar i rasist, i da su tvoji Hrvati bili fašisti i Hitlerovi saveznici. Možda se tu kriju uzroci napada. Bilo kako mu drago, bojim se da to neće na tomu stati. Tražit će te oni i njihova grupa, jer se vjerojatno sada plaše da ćeš ih prepoznati i pripremiti protunapad. Gvožđe se kuje dok je vruće. Tebi treba dobar nož, a ja u dvorištu imam dva, velika kao bajunete. Pođi sa mnom pa ćemo se najprije naoružati. Ništa ne brini, ja sam u Vijetnamu dugo bio u specijalnim jedinicama i navikao sam na borbu noževima. Nakon što ih iskopamo, ja ću otići u nekoliko blokova i raspitati se, jer poznajem i neke vođe crnačkih grupa, a ti u međuvremenu budi na oprezu i spreman na obranu. Ako te tko napadne, nemoj se ni trenutka ustručavati potegnuti nož, a vjeruj mi, kad ugledaju tvoju sablju, razbježat će se i mnogo hrabriji od onih koji su te jutros napali.”

Nakon dva duga sata vrati se moj novi prijatelj i veli mi: „Pronašao sam da su te napali regruti jedne nove čikaške grupe koja nastoji dobiti reputaciju marksističkih revolucionara, a veliki publicitet o otmici i članak u atlantskim novinama dao im je ideju da će likvidacijom navodnog ekstremnoga desničara i neprijatelja, u svojoj organizaciji zaslužiti dobre činove. Vođa grupe zaklinje mi se da on za napad nije znao niti ga je odobrio. Možda govori istinu, jer je grupa tek nedavno formirana i vjerojatno ima unutarnjih borbi za prestiž. Priznao je da sada zna koji su te napali, ali da ih neće odati, nego se želi tebi osobno ispričati i tražiti izmirenje. U tu će svrhu on s jednim prijateljem za sat vremena doći ovamo u dvorište. Na tebi je da odlučiš što ćeš učiniti, a ja ću ti, bez obzira na tvoju odluku, biti pri ruci, i u me se možeš pouzdati.”

Od dvojice crnaca koji su došli na pomirenje jednoga sam nekoliko puta susreo u velikim ćelijama njujorške sudnice i on mi je sada vrlo uvjerljivo govorio koliko žali da se to meni dogodilo. Zaklinjao se da su moji napadači samovoljno donijeli odluku i da će za to biti kažnjeni, te da mu je vrlo drago da ih je uhvatila panika pa su pobjegli. Nakon što smo se izmirili i rukovali, moj ih novi prijatelj upozori: “Vi nešto o meni već znate, a možete se još raspitati, ali mogu vam reći da je ovo vaš sretan dan, jer je ovaj moj stari i dragi prijatelj pristao na pomirbu, a ako se njemu išta više dogodi, vas ćete dvojica za to biti odgovorni.”

I evo, nakon toliko godina, ne mogu izdržati a da ga ne upitam, jesu li one dvije bajunete još uvijek na starom skrovištu, i velim mu da se nikada ne zna i da mene moj put može opet odvesti u Atlantu. On se nasmije i kaže da je prije svog otpuštanja jednom prijatelju pokazao sklonište te da ne zna jesu li još tamo. Kažem mu da mi je iskustvo onoga davnog i tegobnoga dana dosta pomoglo kad sam se kasnijih godina našao u sličnim tjesnacima, i da sam otkako postadoh veteran i ja osobno zaštitio dosta mladih i neiskusnih robijaša, a u nekoliko slučajeva spasio ljude od sigurne smrti.

Nato on nastavi, gotovo u jednomu dahu: „Da, danas je ovdje povirivalo desetak zatvorenika raspitujući se za te i pitajući me što radim u tvojoj ćeliji, a iz kratkih razgovora s nekolicinom zaključio sam da imaš dobru i veliku reputaciju“. Pitao me zatim, s neprikrivenim kuriozitetom: „Čitaš li još uvijek dobre knjige, i podučavaš li američke hedoniste o vrijednosti i smislu žrtve, o svrsi života, o tome zašto su osobne patnje i stradanja jedini izvori duhovnoga pročišćenja i vlastitih spoznaja“, nastavljajući zatim gotovo sâm monolog o mojim starim stavovima i nepromjenjivu svjetonazoru: „Kako danas gledaš na svoju tezu, po kojoj je tragedija današnjega materijalističkog svijeta u tome što prevladava sasvim krivo uvjerenje – da veće udobnosti i ugodnosti čovjeku automatski donose bolji i sretniji život pa je opća opsjednutost, da se po svaku cijenu izbjegne osobna bol i vlastita žrtva, urodila tako infantilnom sebičnošću i tolikom pokvarenošću. Moram ti reći da sam se, kroz sve protekle godine počesto sjećao naših maratonskih dijaloga o životu, politici i povijesti, a kao što vidiš, nisam zaboravio stožerne misli tvoje filozofije života.

Također sam se sjećao tvojih predviđanja, kad su se događale promjene u Rodeziji i Južnoj Africi, kada se ujedinjavala Njemačka, raspadali se Sovjetski Savez, Čehoslovačka i Jugoslavija. Vidim da bi se i podijeljena Koreja i Irska uskoro mogle ujediniti, da se diljem svijeta otvaraju nove fronte i formiraju kojekakvi savezi, da Kinezi na široka vrata ulaze na pozornicu svijeta. Ali ipak, s najvećom sam pozornošću pratio raspad Jugoslavije i ostvarenje tvoga sna o hrvatskoj državi i zamišljao – kolikim tek uzbuđenjem ti doživljavaš ispunjenje tvojih nada i potvrdu svoje vjere u borbenost i duhovnu snagu Hrvata. Volio bih znati, je li nakon postignutoga cilja nastala duhovna stagnacija i čuti kako danas gledaš na sve to, i kako to da te hrvatske vlasti nisu uspjele izbaviti iz zatvora.“

Pokušao sam mu o ovim velikim temama ponuditi odgovor, koliko je on u našem kratkom susretu bio moguć: „Kao što je tebi dobro poznato, ja bih o tim i sličnim temama mogao govoriti danima, a s obzirom na to da imamo samo nekoliko sati, pokušat ću tvoju znatiželju premda djelomice zadovoljiti. Hvala ti na komplimentima, i drago mi je da se ti još uvijek tako živo sjećaš naših dugih razgovora, pa čak i mojih specifičnih uvjerenja i predviđanja, ali moram nadodati da su i moja sjećanja na naša druženja i razgovore tako svježa kao da smo se jučer rastali.

Mislim da je tomu glavni razlog, što u svim kasnijim godinama nisam susreo ni jednoga zatvorenika koji bi me intelektualno stimulirao kao što si to ti znao činiti, mada sam tu i tamo nailazio na neke dosta obrazovane i nadarene pojedince i s njima se jedno vrijeme družio. Da, još uvijek čitam kvalitetne knjige i to me spašava, jer bih, vjerojatno, već davno izludio, da nisam stalno imao izobilje vrlo dobrih knjiga, koje su mi pravile društvo i intelektualno me hranile. Dobro zapažaš da je stanje vrlo nestabilno i da širom svijeta rastu napetosti, da Kina afirmira svoje mjesto u svijetu, ali su ne samo velike opasnosti da brod velesvjetske plutokracije uskoro potone, nego i da on sa sobom u provaliju povuče cijeli svijet, jer će, po svemu sudeći, današnji moćnici radije sve zapaliti, nego izgubiti monopol nad svjetskom ekonomijom i politikom.

Što se tiče rata za oslobođenje moje domovine, Hrvati su zaista zadivili sve one koji su im imalo bili naklonjeni, a moram priznati da su svojom spremnošću, borbenošću i duhovnom snagom nadmašili i sva moja očekivanja. Međutim, kad svjetskim moćnicima i međunarodnim spletkarima nije uspjelo spriječiti rađanje Hrvatske, oni su sve učinili da joj produže porođajne muke, i nastavljaju na njezin put podbacivati svakojake klipove. Jer, glavni je cilj današnjih mega-plutokrata, koji diktiraju svjetskom politikom, da poput bivših sovjetskih kolektiva, po cijelomu svijetu osnuju svoje privatne zadruge i povežu ih u jednu globalnu farmu.

Vizije ovih novih Marxa i Lenjina podrazumijevaju brisanje svih etničkih i kulturnih razlika i uništenje nacionalnih država, a njihov je strateški cilj, da svakom narodu mora prisjesti i ogaditi se vlastita domovina. Zapravo takve tendencije već pedeset godina prevladavaju diljem svijeta, a osobito su snažne u novonastalim državama, gdje se svako rodoljublje napada i izvrgava ruglu, a svim sredstvima vode rat za uništenje narodnoga duha. Tim svjetskim plutokratima u tome, nažalost, pomažu iskorijenjene i kupljene intelektualne prostitutke i kojekakva egocentrična piskarala, kojima njihova pokvarenost i sljepoća onemogućavaju spoznati – da svako ljudsko biće jedino kroz svoju obitelj i zajednicu, kroz svoj narod i vjeru može postati kompletan i sretan čovjek.

Vjerojatno je na to mislio američki predsjednik Herbert Hoover kada je, prije više od 70 godina, upozoravao Amerikance i svijet govoreći: “Današnji intelektualci pokušavaju nacionalizam žigosati kao grijeh protiv čovječanstva. Oni nas pokušavaju uvjeriti da i sama riječ nacionalizam znači zločin, kojega se trebamo sramiti. Ali oni ne znaju da duh nacionalizma stanuje u ljudskom srcu i ne vide da se on rađa u tajanstvenim dubinama ljudske duše. Da izrasta u snažni zahtjev čovjeka da bude slobodan, slobodan od tuđinskoga gospodarenja i svakoga tutorstva, dakle da bude svoj na svome i da sam upravlja svojom sudbinom.”

Zar nije simptomatično da je baš za vrijeme Hooverova mandata američko gospodarstvo bačeno na koljena i tako on izbačen iz Bijele kuće. Ipak je ohrabrujuće što u posljednjih nekoliko godina o tim ključnim problemima otvoreno govori i piše sve više intelektualaca i oživljava nadu da će ta moderna babilonska kula srušiti, a megalomanski planovi o globalnoj farmi izjaloviti. Dakle, ako si dobro razumio ovo što sam ti već rekao, možeš lako zaključiti zašto me hrvatske vlasti nisu uspjele izbaviti iz zatvora.

Moje osobno razočaranje i frustracije, što sam ih u posljednjih sedam-osam godina proživio, nemoguće je opisati riječima. Da bi se shvatilo, to se mora osobno iskusiti. Mogu ti samo reći da sam ovaj pasji život na robiji mnogo lakše podnosio dok Hrvati nisu imali svoju državu, jer sam bio živi simbol hrvatske borbe, pa je i moja žrtva imala smisao i nekakvu vrijednost. Postignućem cilja moja je misija završena, dok je moje zatočeništvo, ne samo izgubilo simboliku, nego sam se osjetio suvišnim i nezgodnim teretom. Unatoč činjenici da je i sam sudac koji mi je izrekao kaznu još davno i u više navrata zagovarao da me se oslobodi, i unatoč tolikim molbama hrvatskih vlasti i Hrvata diljem svijeta – da me ili oslobode ili premjeste u hrvatski zatvor, moje daljnje robijanje u Americi shvatljivo je samo onima koji imaju u vidu ranije spomenute tendencije.

Imam dojam da me neki utjecajni američki špekulanti smatraju nepotkupljivim fanatikom, i čini mi se da će se potruditi da živ ne iziđem iz zatvora, iako bih po zakonu trebao biti pušten na slobodu. Zato sam se još prije pet godina bio odlučio na štrajk glađu, i tako htio završiti ovu moju tragikomediju, jer od moga života nije mnogo ni ostalo, a takva je smrt puno bolja od ovoga polaganog umiranja na rate. Međutim, tu sam odluku odgodio zbog nekoliko razloga.

Jedan je u tome što sam za mnoge Hrvate postao nekakva živa legenda pa ih, s tako laganim izlazom, nisam htio iznevjeriti i razočarati. Drugi je razlog u tome što me, unatoč svim mizerijama moga života, vrlo zanima kakav će biti rasplet te velike svjetske drame. O ostalim razlozima zasad ne želim govoriti. Eto, toliko o meni i mojim viđenjima, a sada mi reci još ponešto o sebi i u što si potrošio vrijeme otkako smo se rastali.“

Dok sam govorio on me je vrlo pozorno i napeto slušao, a sada me nekako zabrinuto pogleda i staloženim glasom otpoče: „Kao što znaš, ja sam od prošlih 25 godina njih 22 proveo u zatvoru i manje-više, kao i ti, podnosio ovaj pasji život. Istina, pročitao sam puno dobrih knjiga, a u zadnje se vrijeme dosta molio Bogu i sa svojom vlastitom dušom vodio mnoge tužne razgovore. Mislim da sam ti pripovijedao da sam kao novorođenče posvojen i da nikad nisam pronašao svoje biološke roditelje. Oni drugi, koji su me odgojili, umrli su za moje prve ture u zatvoru. Kad sam otpušten iz Atlante, otišao sam na njihov grob, pomolio se i na svemu im zahvalio. Tada sam se, također, dobro isplakao, ne za njima, nego za svojim izgubljenim djetinjstvom, i zato što sam se sa svojih 48 godina našao u stanju u kojem mi je bilo potpuno svejedno u kojem ću smjeru krenuti. Na me nigdje nitko nije čekao.

U tri godine na slobodi tri sam puta s tri različite žene pokušavao saviti svoje vlastito gnijezdo, živjeti životom koji danas smatraju normalnim. Nažalost, nisam se namjerio na prave žene i mislim da je to dosta pridonijelo da sam opet dospio u zatvor. Onaj prvi dio mojega života ti je poznat, jer sam ti o svojim ratnim godinama u Vijetnamu pripovijedao. O poginulima, ranjenima i osakaćenim suborcima, ali i o tome kako su nas na povratku pljuvajući nas dočekivali naši sugrađani. Tada sam se počeo zanimati za politiku i povijest, a kad sam uvidio zašto i za koga sam se borio, to je značilo kraj moje vojne karijere. Istina, vlada mi je omogućila dobru stipendiju za školovanje i nekoliko sam godina bio na fakultetu. Ali, nisam se mogao uklopiti. Postao sam buntovnik bez cilja i završio u Atlanti, gdje smo se i susreli.

Evo nas, nakon četvrt stoljeća, opet zajedno, a ja sutra odlazim na moje zadnje putovanje. Ipak, jako mi je drago da iza sebe imam nešto dobrih i časnih djela na koje sam ponosan. Također, sretan sam da nemam onih drugih kojih bih se morao stidjeti i sramiti pa ću mirno i čiste savjesti umrijeti. Molim te, nemoj me tako tužno gledati, i ne žali nad mojom sudbinom, to ne mogu podnijeti, ne od tebe koji si me jednom davno podučavao o onom tajanstvenom i vječnom vraćanju istoga, kao i o drugim tajnama života i smrti.”

Ostatak večeri proveli smo razlažući o prirodi čovjeka i sudbini svijeta. Kada je on govorio o čudesnome tehnološkom napretku, ja sam uzvratio, da sam nedavno negdje čitao o tome, kako moderni čovjek ima sva moguća pomagala da bi bolje čuo, a ipak je gluh; gluh na vapaj onih koji pate, gluh za pjesnika i filozofa, gluh za kišu i vjetar, gluh za buku oceana, gluh za tišinu noći, gluh za Boga. On je nato nadodao kako mu se čini, da bi u svakom stoljeću dragi Bog morao žrtvovati svog sina da bi njegova mučenička smrt uvijek nanovo budila empatiju u ljudskim srcima i imaginaciju u njihovim mozgovima, i tako ljudima omogućila da spase svoje duše, i da na ovome svijetu žive boljim i sretnijim životom.

Nad tom njegovom idejom ozbiljno sam se zamislio i dodao: „Za nas smrtnike vječno će biti nedokučivi tajanstveni putovi Božji, ali nam ostaje vjera da Bog čovjeka neće zaboraviti, niti će ovaj svijet prepustiti đavlu. Dakle, blago onima koji svakodnevno i u svim stvarima vide prst Božji, jer njima njihova vjera daje nadu bez koje nema budućnosti, a bez budućnosti ni prošlost ni sadašnjost nemaju nikakva smisla. Čim izgubi vjeru, čovjek gubi i nadu i smisao svoga života, a smisao njegova života na ovome svijetu je baš ono što čovjeka čini čovjekom. Zato, kada izgubi svrhu svoga postojanja, čovjek prestaje biti čovjekom i postaje obični racionalni dvonožac, živinče bez srca i bez savjesti, arogantni egocentrik, opsjednut svim vrstama megalomanije, i sklon svim porocima i pokvarenostima“.

Zatim sam naglasio da se upravo tu kriju uzroci današnjega apsurdnog stanja, u kojemu međunarodni spletkari, špekulanti i supergangsteri nastupaju pod kojekakvim dobrotvornim zastavama i slove kao najveći svjetski filantropi. Nato on doda da je, možda, još veća ironija, da država koja je prvak u ubojstvima, pobačajima, rastavama brakova, narkomaniji, kriminalu, silovanjima, bolesnoj sebičnosti i apsurdnom bogaćenju, dekadenciji i unutarnjoj truleži, da ta i takva država ima obraza cijelomu svijetu dijeliti lekcije o moralnim načelima i ljudskim pravima. Dok smo tako o tim i sličnim temama razgovarali vrijeme nam je vrlo brzo proletjelo, i u deset sati stražari su najavili povratak zatvorenika u svoje ćelije, brojenje i zaključavanje. Rastali smo se bez zagrljaja i bez ijedne riječi.

On je samo vojnički podigao ruku, a ja sam mu isto tako uzvratio. Nestao je odlučnim i sigurnim korakom. Kada sam se idućega jutra probudio, na podu pokraj vratiju ćelije našao sam Julienninu knjigu i u njoj list papira na kojemu je pisalo: „Dragi prijatelju, sada je skoro jedan sat po ponoći i evo upravo sam do kraja pročitao Ljubavnike i luđake. Iako će, vjerojatno, za dva-tri sata doći po mene, moram ti napisati ovo kratko pismo. Ne stidim se priznati da su mi pri čitanju na dosta mjesta zasuzile oči. Knjiga je ne samo živ i umjetnički prikaz stvarnih životnih zbivanja, nego i vrlo iskrena ispovijest jednoga velikog srca i svjedočanstvo prave i velike vjernosti, zaista dirljiva balada o ljubavi i oda prijateljstvu. Blago onima koji na ovome svijetu pronađu sebi srodnu dušu, jer samo tako nastane ona tajanstvena veza, koju nikakve zemaljske sile ne mogu raskinuti, niti ikakve fizičke udaljenosti mogu utrnuti vatru koja se raspali u njihovim srcima, onoga trena kad se njihove duše prepoznaju.

Sada potpuno razumijem zašto je, uz tebe, tvoja Julie bila spremna na sve, i zašto još uvijek na te čeka. Naime, nakon što sam pročitao Ljubavnike i luđake, postalo mi je jasno, da ste se vas dvoje, kroz tolike osamljene i hladne godine, uvijek nanovo uspijevali ogrijati na onoj, u staromu Beču, davno zapaljenoj vatri, a što god su vas jače udarali okrutni vjetrovi, ta se čudesna vatra još više rasplamsavala i bolje vas grijala. Razmišljajući o svemu tome došao sam do uvjerenja, da ni naši susreti i razgovori nisu tek puke slučajnosti, i na tome se iskreno zahvaljujem Bogu. Jer, baš onda kad smo bili najjadniji i najusamljeniji, Božja je providnost omogućila naše susrete, da jedan drugomu pomognemo i jedan drugoga utješimo. Vjeruj mi, koliko god je naš susret u Atlanti tebi pomogao da izbjegneš neke opasne zamke i da, kao stranac i bez ikoga svoga, preživiš onu krvavu džunglu, bila je to gotovo sitnica kada se usporedi s onim koliko meni znači naš jučerašnji razgovor. Jer on je uvelike rasteretio moje tužno srce, i dao mi takav unutarnji mir, da ga ni moja skora smrt neće moći poremetiti.

Kolikogod je komu važno kako dugo će živjeti i što će u životu postići, za čovjeka bi moralo biti mnogo važnije – ne izgubiti svoju čast i umrijeti čiste savjesti. Svaki na svoj način, nas smo dvojica idealistički buntovnici u sasvim materijaliziranomu svijetu, pa nije neobično da su toliki nemili vjetrovi nosali naše životne lađe. Kroz duge i bolne usamljenosti ipak smo dosta naučili, a kroz vlastite patnje i stradanja upoznali pravu prirodu čovjeka i izopačenost svijeta, spoznali draži prirode i ljepotu života, usudili se igrati sa strahotama olujnih valova, čak i onda kad su prijetili da će nas progutati. Tada smo stvarno i najintenzivnije živjeli pa nemamo razloga kukati.

Uz ovaj moj zadnji Zbogom, želim ti reći još samo to, da će, i nakon što potone moj brod, moja duša za te moliti Boga, da te čuva i da ti pošalje dobre vjetrove, koji će tvoj brod odnijeti u sretnu luku, tvojoj vjernoj Julie i tvojoj čarobnoj domovini. To ti od srca želi tvoj stari prijatelj, koji će umrijeti kao Stoik, iako je dugo živio kao Epikurijanac.

Zvonko Bušić

EN

Zvonko believed that good things should be shared with everyone. What he lived, worked for and believed in, what he sacrificed for, is presented in his book “All Visible Things”, which is available on Amazon. From now on, you will be able to have access to this part of Croatian history every other Wednesday and print it out free of charge, in Croatian and English, on the dijaspora.hr portal. Chapter by chapter, drop of blood by drop of blood, and life day by day in 33 parts – with only one goal! He will live on…

A Meeting

It appears that one is able only to a certain degree to determine the direction of his own life or influence his own fate. Meanwhile, nobody can choose the time and place of his birth, or period in history, or the family or nation to which he belongs. This is God’s will, and we know that God’s plans are mysterious. So the search for answers to many questions is in vain – are all newborn children innocent, and if they are, why are some destined to be born into wealthy or royal families, and others to poor, impoverished families, and still others to healthy and honorable families, or in criminal, sick environments? Why are some born in freedom and in times of peace, and others as bombs are exploding around them? But along with these important and inexorable facts connected to one’s birth, one is confronted in life with all kinds of surprising encounters, and all sorts of things can happen that might otherwise be considered mere coincidence. But because this coincidental meeting or event can sometimes change the direction and flow of someone’s life, the big question is, are these meetings coincidence or, in fact, Destiny? Only the Almighty knows the answer to these questions, while we mere mortals can only guess.

One particular meeting in prison, toward the end of my years of imprisonment, confirmed to me that my fellow prisoners saw I had a certain advantage by ending up in prison due to various bizarre circumstances instead of a criminal past. In the so-called free world, I would never commit a crime – except perhaps getting a traffic violation. But still, I hijacked an American plane – actually, two planes – and flew over two continents and one ocean with them. It had to result either in my death or in long imprisonment. When a bank robber goes into action, he considers imprisonment as just another unfortunate part of the job, although in most cases, people are optimistic enough to think they will not get caught. But when you set in motion the hijacking of a plane, a freedom fighter has only one thing on his mind: to succeed. He is prepared in advance to accept the personal consequences of the act. I believe my willingness to sacrifice and my love for my homeland have sustained me. But back to the aforementioned meeting.

One Friday morning, November 21, 2004, the guard called out my name several times, saying I had a visit. I went over to the block exit, and as I was waiting for the electronic bars to open and let me through into the hall, I heard someone behind me ask, “Excuse me, but I have to ask you something. Did the guard call you for a visit and is your name Busic?” I answered coldly that I was, and gave him a long look. Then he continued, quite excited, “Oh my God, I can’t believe it, it’s not possible, excuse me, I see that you don’t recognize me, but we were very good friends long ago. Remember you used to call me the American Epicurean, and how we always had to explain what that meant to other people?” I interrupted him, saying, “And you called me the American Stoic, and it was in Atlanta federal prison, sometime toward the end of 1977, almost twenty-six years ago.”

As I was talking, long-ago memories of my first prison days came back and the image of this man in his late thirties. Powerful and athletically built, but with a very intelligent face and almost childlike movements. We were both “failed” students who hadn’t finished college, both of us had had stormy histories, and neither of us fit into the so-called prison environment, so we became very good friends. We exercised and ran together, read the same books, and had many interesting conversations about world politics, philosophy of history, our very different life experiences, and how our dissimilar life journeys had brought us to the same prison. After almost a year, I was transferred out of Atlanta penitentiary, where we had met, and then lost track of each other. Now, by a stroke of Fate, our paths had crossed again. Now a very thin, pale person now stood in front of me, almost completely bald, and with a lined, aged face.

We moved toward each other and actually hugged, and when I looked back at him again, I noticed tears in his green eyes as he said, “Believe me, no encounter has ever made me so happy or excited – tell me, my old friend, how is my long-lost but never forgotten Croatian Stoic?” I told him that I was holding up fairly well, and that, as he could see, I had gotten somewhat bald and gray myself, and that our meeting, after a quarter of a century, had made me very happy as well. And then, to save me from asking him questions he probably read in my eyes, quickly added, “As you see, there’s not much left of me; my days are numbered.”

The bars opened to allow me to enter the hallway, but I did not move. I stood there and looked at the man I had thought of so often, wondering if he were dead or alive, free or in prison, what he was doing, of what he dreamt… I told the guard I forgot my ID card, and that I had to return to my cell to get it. I took my friend with me so that I could ask him what was happening with him. When we got to the cell, I almost yelled at him, “In God’s name, tell me, what are you doing here, how long do you have and why are your days numbered?” “Not now”, he answered, “Not now, you have someone waiting for you in the visiting room, go, and when you get back, I’ll tell you. We’ll have almost seven hours to talk.” I asked him why only seven hours, and insisted that he tell me the basic situation in a few sentences. “OK, if you really insist. I was released from Atlanta in 1989, and after three years got arrested again for bank robbery. I got forty years, and still owed them ten on the previous sentence, so the judge and prosecutor cynically guaranteed that I would celebrate my 100th birthday in freedom. I’ve spent the last twelve years in various places, and when I was transferred to this prison five months ago, during a routine medical exam they detected an aggressive type of cancer that has already spread. When the doctor told me, with an obvious expression of false sympathy, that I only had about 7-8 months to live, I told him not to worry, because I had no life anyway, no hope for freedom, that I was slowly dying, and that death would be salvation for this old warrior. He gave me a paper that said I did not have to perform any kind of job, and since then, I just keep to myself. I’ve only been to the yard a few times, and except for going to the cafeteria, I just sit in my cell and read,” he told me in one breath, and then continued, “Tomorrow, probably before dawn, I’m going to Springfield, and you know that’s the prison with a hospital and a morgue, the last stop for federal prisoners who, due to age or illness, are on their way out.

Last night they ordered me to bring all my possessions to be checked and sent on to Springfield. This morning I packed all my earthly possessions in one cardboard box and waited for them to call me to inspection. Then, instead of hearing my name, I heard another name well known to me, so I rushed over to ask if it was you. Regardless of whether it was mere coincidence or our destiny to see each other again, I am glad we found and recognized each other. And now I have to ask you, tell me in a few words what happened to your compatriots and to your Oregon girl?” I take out the English edition of Lovers and Madmen, and as I hand it to him, tell him all three of my compatriots were released fifteen years ago. Then I add that, if he likes, he can sit in my cell and wait, and then I headed for the visiting room, burdened by heavy thoughts and memories of long ago.

KresimirPirsl had come to visit me, from the Croatian Embassy in Washington, D.C. We had spoken numerous times during the past several years by phone, and now, we finally met in person. My friend’s story left a strong impression on me, so after we greeted each other, I quickly told him about the unexpected encounter. He listened closely, although I am not sure he was able to take it in; he was probably concentrated instead on his first visit with me in a maximum-security prison. We spoke openly, exchanging views on various topics. The time passed quickly and he had to leave. We got up, said our farewells, and he departed. He left a pleasant and positive impression on me. I had the feeling he had not come simply out of official obligation, but because it was the humane thing to do. He was also probably curious to personally see where and how the man who holds the sad record of the longest imprisonment in Croatian history was doing his time.

When I returned to my cell, I found my friend sitting and reading Lovers and Madmen. I noticed he had already finished two-thirds of the book. He told me that, except for packing his property, he hadn’t moved, had been reading the whole time, and that the book was very interesting to him. He praised its author to high heaven and commented that it was hard to believe there were such women in today’s America, and that he would be overjoyed if he could find one who had even some of Julie’s qualities and virtues. He told me that, in spite of everything, I should be happy to have such a wife and that I should kiss her feet in gratitude. I responded with a smile that Julie did indeed deserve such accolades, but he was overdoing it a bit; first, foot kissing was not my style, and second, Julie was a complex and unique person who would flee from anyone who dared do such a thing. He laughed at that and after a short and general conversation about women, changed the subject.

In 1977, the Atlanta federal penitentiary held about 2,500 hard-core prisoners and it was a jungle, with hundreds of different gangs and groups. Since every bird flies with its own flock, prison groups formed according to race, ethnic, and geographical affiliations, where fear and the necessity to protect oneself guaranteed the loyalty and commitment of the group members. During the time I spent in Atlanta, there were 17 murders and many more woundings in one year alone. In mid-1978, a Congressional investigation even took place, and on the cover of Time magazine, there was a photo of the prison entrance with this sign overhead: Slaughterhouse Atlanta. Under very strange circumstances, I could have also lost my life there if the old warrior I was talking to had not been there to help me.

Namely, only two weeks after I arrived in Atlanta, someone cracked me on the head with a metal pipe one morning as I slept. Luckily, I did not lose consciousness. From a prone position, I instinctively kicked the attacker in the stomach with my leg and quickly got to my feet. I saw in front of me two black men with knives and another at the door of the cell. Even today, I have no idea what happened at that moment to cause them to become scared and run out of the cell. My head was bleeding, so I went to the prison hospital and got several stitches on my head to close the wound. I told the doctor I had been lifting weights and that a bar had fallen on my head. When I said the same thing to another prisoner who was scrubbing the hospital floor, he gave me a sympathetic look and said, “You can tell me the truth, and maybe I can even help you.”

I told him what had happened and added that I was a Croatian, that I arrived ten days ago and didn’t know anyone, and that I had not had any arguments with any inmate, so it was a mystery why anyone would want to attack me. When he asked me if I was the leader of the Croatian hijackers, I said yes, and he then continued, “There was an article about you recently in the newspapers here, that you’d arrived in Atlanta, that you were a ‘right-winger’ and ‘fascist’, that Croatians were fascists and Hitler’s allies. Maybe that’s the reason. Whatever it was, I doubt it will stop at this. They’ll be on the lookout for you, because they’re probably afraid you’ll recognize them and prepare a counterattack. You have to strike while the iron is hot. You need a good knife, and I have two of them in the recreation yard, real bayonets. Come with me, first we’ll arm ourselves. Don’t worry, I was in the special forces in Vietnam for a long time, and I’m used to fighting with knives. After we flush them out, I’ll go to several of the blocks and ask around, I know a few of the black gang leaders. Meanwhile, watch out and be ready to defend yourself. If anyone attacks you, don’t hesitate to draw your knife. Believe me, when they see your machete, even the bravest will run away.”

Two hours later, my new friend returned and said, “I found out that the ones who attacked you were recruits for a new Chicago group trying to gain the reputation of left-wing revolutionaries, and all the publicity about the hijacking in the Atlanta media gave them the idea to liquidate the ‘extreme right-winger’ to make points with their organization. The group leader swears he did not know about or give permission for the attack. He might be telling the truth, because the group was just formed and there is probably an internal struggle for prestige going on. He admitted he knew who attacked you, but would not give them up; he did apologize personally and asked for a ‘ceasefire’. In this regard, he is going to come to the rec yard with a friend in an hour. It’s up to you to decide what to do, but whatever you decide, I’ll be by your side, you can depend on me.”

Of the two men who came to make peace – one I’d met several times in the large New York courtroom – told me very convincingly how sorry he was about what had happened. He swore the attackers had done this by themselves and that they would be punished; he also said he was glad they had panicked and run away. After we’d made peace and shook hands, my new friend gave them a warning, “You know something about me, and you can ask around some more, but I can tell you that this is your lucky day, because my old and dear friend has agreed to make peace. If anything ever happens to him again, you two will be held responsible.”

Now, after so many years, I can’t help but ask him if those two bayonets are still in their old hiding place, since one never knows, I might end up some day back in Atlanta. He smiled and said before he left he showed a friend the hiding place, so he does not know if they’re still there. I told him how the experience of that difficult day so long ago helped me a lot in later years when I found myself in similar tight spots, and that I’d meanwhile become a veteran and had also personally protected many young and inexperienced prisoners, in a few cases from certain death. Then he continued, almost in one breath, “Yes, today about ten prisoners looked in asking for you wondering what I’m doing in your cell, and after chatting with a few of them, I see you have a very good reputation here.”

Then he asked me, with open curiosity, “Do you still read good books, are you still trying to teach American hedonists about the value of sacrifice, the meaning of life, and why personal suffering is the only source of spiritual cleansing and self-realization?” He continued on, almost in a monologue which I’ll attempt somehow to recreate, about my long-held views and life perspectives. “What are your views today, that the tragedy of today’s materialistic world has brought us to a totally false idea that the more comfortable one is, the happier and better one’s life is, that one should at all costs try to avoid suffering and personal sacrifice, that we’ve sunk to a state of infantile greed and baseness? I have to tell you that throughout all these years, I have often recalled our marathon dialogues on life, politics, history, and as you see, I have not forgotten the main threads of your philosophy of life. I also remember your predictions, the changes in Rhodesia and South America, the reunification of Germany, the collapse of the Soviet Union, Czechoslovakia, Yugoslavia.

I see that divided Korea and Ireland could also soon unify, that new fronts are opening up throughout the world and forming new alliances, that the Chinese are making a big appearance on the world stage. But I was most interested in the collapse of Yugoslavia and the realization of your dreams of a Croatian state and was thinking how excited you must be to see the fulfillment of your hopes and the confirmation of the spiritual strength and bravery of the Croatians. I’d like to know whether your spirit has flagged after your goals were reached, how you see things today, and why the Croatian government hasn’t succeeding in getting you out of prison?”

I tried to give him answers to these larger themes, as much as possible in our short time left. “As you well know, I could talk about all this for days, and since we only have a few hours, I’ll try to satisfy your curiosity as best I can. Thanks for you compliments, and I’m glad you still remember our talks so well, and especially my specific prognoses, but I have to add first that I also remember our time together and our conversations as though it were yesterday. I think that’s why I was never able in all these years to find another prisoner who was so able to stimulate me intellectually, even though I’ve met many educated and talented individuals, and have spent a certain amount of time with them.

Yes, I still read good books and that is my salvation, because otherwise I probably would have gone crazy by now if I hadn’t had them to keep me company and nourish me intellectually. Yes, you see that the situation is very unstable and that a lot of conflict is going on in the world, that China is affirming its place, and that not only is the global plutocracy in danger of sinking, but it threatens to drag the rest of the world down with it. It appears that today’s powerholders would rather destroy everything than lose their monopoly over the world economy and politics.

As far as the war to liberate my homeland is concerned, Croatians really impressed their supporters, and I have to admit that they exceeded all my expectations with their bravery, spiritual strength, and ability to fight. Meanwhile, when the globalists were not able to prevent the creation of Croatia, they tried to prolong its birth pains as long as possible and then to set countless obstacles along its path. The main goal of these plutocrats who dictate world politics is to createtheir private associations along the lines of the Soviet collectives and merge them into a big global farm. Of course, the vision of these new “Marxes” and “Lenins” is to eradicate all ethnic and cultural differences and destroy the nation states. Their strategic goal is that every nation become repulsed by its own homeland. Actually, these tendencies have predominated for the last fifty years, and are especially strong in newly formed states where any form of healthy patriotism is scorned and denigrated, and all resources utilized to destroy the national spirit.

These globalists are unfortunately assisted by rootless, intellectual prostitutes and all kinds of egocentric “writers”, whose corruption and blindness prevent them from seeing that every human being can become a complete and happy human being only through his family and community, his nation and his faith. That is probably what the American president Herbert Hoover meant when, more than 70 years ago, he warned Americans and the world,“Today’s intellectuals are attempting to brand nationalism as a sin against humanity. They are trying to convince us that even the word nationalism is criminal, one we should be ashamed of. But they do not know that the spirit of nationalism resides in the human heart, and they do not see that it is born in the secret depths of the human soul. That it grows into a powerful demand of the human being for freedom, freedom from foreign control and tutorship; that is, to be in control of one’s own fate.” Is it not symptomatic of our times that during Hoover’s term in office, the American economy was brought to its knees and he was thrown out of the White House? These same forces killed JFK thirty years later, in my opinion. But it’s encouraging that in the last few years, these issues are being openly discussed and written about by more and more intellectuals, which resurrects the hope that this modern Tower of Babel will collapse, and the megalomaniac plans for a “global farm” disintegrate.

Therefore, if you understood what I already told you, you can easily conclude the reasons why the Croatian government has not succeeded in getting me out of prison. My personal disappointment and frustration experienced during the last 7-8 years is impossible to describe in words. To comprehend it, you would have to have experienced it yourself. I can only tell you that this dog’s life in prison was much easier to endure before Croatia gained her independence, because I was still a living symbol of the Croatian struggle, and my sacrifice had meaning and some kind of value. When we attained our goal, my mission was finished, but my imprisonment lost its symbolism, and I felt like an irrelevant and unwanted burden.

In spite of the fact that the judge who sentenced me supported my release many times, and notwithstanding numerous requests from the Croatian government and Croatians around the world to either release me or transfer me to a Croatian prison, my continuing imprisonment is comprehensible only to those who are involved in the previously mentioned issues. I have the impression that certain American officials see me as an incorruptible fanatic, and that they will attempt to keep me in prison, although I should have been released already according to the law. That’s why I decided to go on a hunger strike five years ago and end this tragi-comedy, because not much was left of my life anyway, and a death like that would be better than this slow-motion dying in installments.

Meanwhile, I postponed the decision for several reasons. One was that I had for some Croatians become a kind of living legend and did not want to disappoint and betray them with this ‘simple exit’. The other is that, in spite of the misery of my life, I had a great interest in seeing how the great world dramas would be resolved. I am not prepared to talk about the other reasons at this time. So much for me and my views, now you tell me something about yourself, what you spent your time doing since we parted ways.”

As I spoke, he listened closely and somewhat apprehensively, and started talking in a measured tone, “As you know, during the last twenty-five years I’ve spent twenty-two of them in prison and like you, somehow endured this hellhole. It is true, I have read many good books and have prayed a lot to God and had many sad conversations with my own soul. I think I told you that I was adopted as a newborn and never found my birth parents. The people who raised me diedduring my first stint in prison. When I was released from Atlanta, I went to their graves, said a prayer, and thanked them for everything. At that time, I had a good cry, not just for them, but for my lost childhood; because of that, I found myself at the age of 48 in a position where I didn’t give a damn where life led me. Nobody was waiting for me. In the three years in freedom, I tried on three occasions to settle down with a woman, live a life that was considered normal.

Unfortunately, I did not come across the right woman and I think that contributed to my return to prison. The first part of my life you know, because I told you about my war years in Vietnam. About the dead, wounded, and crippled comrades on the front, but also how our fellow citizens spat at us upon our return. At that time I became interested in politics and history, and when I realized who and what I fought for, that was the end of my military career. The government did enable me to get a scholarship and I was in college for several years. But I couldn’t fit in. I became a rebel without a cause and ended up in Atlanta, where we met. So here we are, a quarter ofa century later, together again, and tomorrow I’m taking my last journey.

Still, I am glad that I left behind some good and honorable acts. I am also happy that I don’t have to be ashamed and can die with a clean conscience. Please don’t look at me with such sadness, and don’t mourn my Fate, I can’t deal with that, not from someone who so long ago taught me about that mysterious and Eternal Recurrence, and other secrets of life and death.”

We spent the rest of the evening discussing the nature of man and the fate of the world. When he spoke of miraculous technical advances, I responded that I’d read somewhere that modern Man had all conceivable apparata to hear better, but remained deaf; deaf to the moans of those suffering, deaf to the poets and philosophers, the rain and wind, the roar of the ocean, the silence of the night, deaf to God. He added that it seemed to him that God needed to sacrifice his Son every century so that His death would continually awaken empathy in human hearts and imagination in their minds, therefore enabling mankind to save their souls and live a better and happier life on earth. I considered seriously what he had said and added, “The mysterious ways of God will always remain inaccessible to the mortal soul, but we can still have faith that God will not forget humanity and give the world over to the Devil. So their faith gives hope to those who see God’s intervention in everything, for without hope there is no future, and without the future, the past and present have no meaning.

If he loses faith, man loses hope and meaning in life, and having a meaning in life is what makes a man a man in this world. So, if he loses the meaning of his existence, he stops being a human being and becomes an ordinary, rational two-legged being – an animal without heart and conscience, an arrogant egocentric, obsessed with all forms of megalomania, and vulnerable to vice and corruption.”

I also emphasized that the causes of today’s absurd situation can be found here, in which the globalists, speculators, and super-gangsters appear under some common, benevolent flags and assume the title of great world philanthropists. He added that perhaps a greater irony was that the country that comes first in murders, abortions, divorces, drug addiction, greed, obscene wealth and decadence has the nerve to lecture the entire world on moral precepts and human rights.

As we talked about this and similar subjects, our time flew by, and at 10 o’clock the guards called for prisoners to return to their cells to be counted and locked down. We parted without embracing or uttering single word. He just raised his arm in a salute and I did the same. He disappeared with a decisive and sure step. When I woke up the next morning, I found Julie’s book and a piece of paper on the floor near my cell door. On it he’d written:

“Dear friend, it’s almost 1a.m. and I just finished reading Lovers and Madmen. Even though they will probably come for me in the next few hours, I have to write you this short letter. I am not ashamed to say that tears came to my eyes at certain places in the book. It is not only a lively and artistic presentation of true-life experiences, but also a very honest story from a big heart, and a representation of true and complete loyalty. A really moving ballad about love and an ode to friendship. Fortunate are those who find a soul mate in this world, because then those mysterious bonds are forged which no earthly power can break, and no physical separation can quench the fire that flamed in their hearts the moment their souls recognized one another. Now I totally understand why Julie was prepared to be at your side always and why she is still waiting for you. Actually, after I read Lovers and Madmen it became clear to me that you two, throughout so many cold and lonely years,have always succeeded in reigniting and warming yourselves by the fire you lit so long ago in Vienna, and the harsher the cruel winds that blew, the higher that amazing fire flamed and the better it warmed you.

I concluded finally that our meetings and discussions were not by chance, and for that I thank God sincerely. Because, when we were the most miserable and lonely, God’s providence enabled our meetings so that we could help and comfort each other. Believe me, as much as I helped you avoid a dangerous trap in Atlanta when we first met and survive that bloody jungle as a foreigner, all alone, it was a triviality compared to how much our conversation yesterday means to me. It unburdened my heavy heart and gave me an inner peace that even my imminent death cannot disturb. No matter how important a long life is for people, how much they might manage to accomplish, it should be more important to preserve one’s honor and die with a clean conscience.

Each in his own way, we two are idealist rebels in a totally materialistic world, so it is not unusual that our life vessels have been carried away by so many malevolent winds. Through long and painful solitude, we have still learned a lot, and through our own suffering and agony, we have come to know the true nature of mankind, the cruelty of the world, the joys of nature and beauty of life, even when they threatened to devour us. That was when we lived the most intensely, so we have no reason to complain. With my last farewell, I just want to tell you that even after my light fades, I will pray to God to protect you, to send you kind winds which will bring your boat to a happy harbor, to your loyal Julie and your magical homeland.

This I wish you with all my heart, your old friend who will die as a Stoic although he lived for so long as an Epicurean.”

Zvonko Bušić

Ključne riječi #hrvati u američkim zatvorima #Julienne Bušić #Zvonko Bušić