The three key stones of a city
As with anything concerning Central Europe, the topic of this issue invites uncertainty and questions. That being said, I would risk stating that anything like a definition of Central Europe must be based on its city culture. In a region of vague identities and shifting borders, cities are the stable footholds. Indeed, Central Europe's cultural personality stems not from states but from cities. Few countries in the region fall entirely within the cultural sphere of Central Europe. Instead, Central Europe is an intersection in which segments of states collide. But at the level of individual human settlements, Central Europe suddenly emerges in striking clarity.
Although Krakow and Wroclaw are decidedly Central European, we surely can't say that all of Poland is. And while we likewise can't include all of Austria, no one would think of excluding Vienna from the region. Or what about Romania? We would probably never call it a Central European country, but surely we must make allowances for Sibiu or Brasov. So it is – in spite of complicated history and international politics. Central Europe is a network of fragmented but culturally interconnected city civilizations, which begs the question: What is the essence of a Central European city? Without accounting for the architecture, it probably doesn't differ much from cities elsewhere in Europe. First of all, Central European towns have grown gradually and spontaneously. Their structure is therefore natural, yet strictly hierarchical. In the centre, we find an accumulation of churches and palaces. These are the goals towards which people head and in whose shade they finally settle. The rich take refuge in this inner circle, while the poor accumulate on the outskirts.
Any user's guide to the Central European city must highlight two fundamental institutions: the church and the pub. They stand against each other, eternal enemies fighting for the soul of the region. This tension is precisely the dynamic of human life, which grants the city its vitality. The church and the pub are opposed to each other, and yet they live in symbiosis. This is only possible due to the fact that they are separated by a square, an additional element in the life of the city. But while the church and pub were created on purpose, on the basis of a spatial and spiritual decision, the square itself was born spontaneously. It is not a construction, but a space enclosed by constructions. The square is a place where people meet. This is where the people who go to the church meet the people who go to the pub. And the square is used by the people going from the church to the pub. The church is about the soul and the pub is about the body. The square is mostly about money, because it's a place for buying, selling and stealing. Such economic interests weld society together. Thanks to the square, the church and the pub can co-exist, existing independently and co-operating in the creation of city space.
But again, as far as this basic structure is concerned, Central European cities don't differ much from the cities in other parts of the old world. So what makes them specific? Of course, we can always ground their unique identities in history, and we would surely find a host of shared economic, cultural and political traits that could be called central. But this isn't necessary for our purposes. It should be sufficient to understand Central European cities as simply connections, meeting points and intersections between individual ethnic and political units. Let's take for example the relationship between the Czech Republic and Austria. We can't deny the enormously sad fact that a lot of very serious and unresolved problems – starting with the memory of WWII and post-war history and ending with nuclear energy – lie between these two countries. Thus, we can hardly speak about a common identity or shared interests. But when we look at cities such as Brno and Vienna, cultural similarities and affiliations unequivocally start to take shape, and discrepancies or barriers begin to fade. Even the border itself disappears. That's it – there are no borders between cities! At the level of international politics, Central Europe is a myth – or a dream. At the level of cities, it's a confirmed fact. This is what should ensue from the present volume.
Published 2011-07-29
Original in English
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