Piše: Dr. Andreja Valič Zver
In these days, it is almost impossible to think and write about anything other than the dreadful deluge that struck a large part of Slovenia in early August of this year, causing immense material damage and even greater human suffering. The dimensions of the August water apocalypse are nearly immeasurably profound in all possible senses. However, historians and other experts point out natural disasters in the past that, with a similar hurricane force, destroyed homesteads, fields, and meadows, leading to deaths, famines, diseases, mass migrations, and fundamental changes in the natural and cultural landscape.
The contemporary problem of humanity is that, influenced by the prevailing awakening ideology, we try to attribute blame for natural disasters solely to humans, who, in recent decades, are said to have intruded upon nature. However, the story is far from being so simple. Recently, I had the opportunity to see a historical overview of natural disasters throughout history. For Slovenes, perhaps especially for those from the Gorenjska region, the significant event is the earthquake of 1348. Among other things, it destroyed Tržič, which was much larger than it is today. In a January night, the Košuta mountain range literally split apart, burying a significant part of Gorenjska’s life and economy, particularly mining. The traces of the horrendous earthquake are still visible today throughout the region of Podljubelj. The same earthquake also caused the collapse of Mount Dobrač above Villach. Enormous piles of rocks, stones, and soil buried the town and the Ziljska valley, where predominantly Slovenes lived at the time. Numerous villages were flooded, many people died, and the consequences are still evident to this day. For example, the grass in the Ziljska valley is very acidic and suitable only for horse feed.
One of the apocalyptic milestones was also the earthquake in the Idrija region in 1511, which is the strongest known earthquake in Slovenia, with a magnitude of 6.8. The consequences were the complete destruction of Idrija and Bovec, the collapse of the castle in Tolmin, the damaged castle in Škofja Loka, and even Ljubljana’s Križanke. According to some reports, there were as many as 12,000 casualties.
The catastrophic floods in the Ljubljansko barje (Ljubljana Marshes) in the 18th century, when the unregulated Ljubljanica River flooded hundreds of farms, prompted many improvements. The authorities of that time attempted to prevent annual floods by constructing the Gruber Canal, and it must be acknowledged that they largely succeeded in this effort. If we move to the present time, we remember severe floods in Žiri, Železniki, and the Bohinj region a few years ago, as well as many other natural disasters that have shaken and, in a way, sobered us.
A significant fact that emerges in times of natural disasters are numerous small stories of fear and despair, as well as boundless courage and magnanimous willingness to help fellow human beings in distress. Especially Slovenian firefighters, rescuers, soldiers, police officers, and all those who respond in the first hours of water and other catastrophes, are deserving of our deepest respect and comprehensive recognition of their efforts. In a way, this year’s story is echoing last summer when the Karst region was ablaze. Many then bravely risked their lives to save others’ property and lives. I believe we often fail to fully comprehend how thin the line between life and death is in these decisive moments, and how stressful any participation in such rescue operations can be. Unfortunately, all these courageous individuals are often forgotten by the current Slovenian authorities once the cameras are turned off and public attention shifts elsewhere. As far as I know, from last year’s promises by Golob about fairly compensating the firefighters who participated in extinguishing the fire in the Karst region, only smoke remains.
This year as well, following the initial governmental silence and failure, the Prime Minister rushed with resounding statements, such as the mass construction of prefabricated houses (ignoring issues like the shortage of suitable land and a multitude of bureaucratic obstacles, etc.), and confusing measures (referring to the Day of Solidarity, when it would have been much better for Slovenia to actively work for the flood victims). I should also mention the rather unusual emphasis on civil protection (the commander of civil protection “governs” through decrees that should actually be adopted by a competent government in accordance with its powers). At the same time, someone once again “pushed aside” the Slovenian Armed Forces, which are doing heroic work on the field to the best of their abilities, with sufficient resources, a clear command and control system, and well-defined responsibilities. However, let me conclude my reflections with the belief that the Slovenian nation has always been a master of survival – it will also persevere even when self-conceited authorities are long gone.