František Klišík

* 1963

  • "I was mostly in the Civic Forum in Prachatice. In the beginning we had quite a say. People listened to us, we also had something to say because we knew about things and they didn't. Later on there were some, not Czechoslovak Socialist Youth Union members perhaps, but strange patrons, they didn't listen to us much anymore either. Suddenly I realized that my role in this revolution was to be in the resistance, to be against something. When it became legal and these situations came into it, I said, 'What am I going to throw pearls to swine?' I gave up, I stopped going to meetings. But they've made it on their own. Then I was ashamed in front of Havel. He always said we had to go for it at all costs and not back down. I backed down. I didn't go into politics. But I couldn't - a man who comes out of the seventh grade can't hold any public job position. Nor did I want to. For these reasons also I soon backed out."

  • "Those who remember the revolution have not experienced it. I remember almost nothing, it was such a rush! We founded the first Civic Forum in Prachatice the very next day, we didn't know it was a Civic Forum yet. We knew that it had exploded. In the evening I made little leaflets on a cyclostyle copier, and we stuck them all over Prachatice: 'At five o'clock at the fountain, who doesn't like that they are beating up students.' But Míra Crh was closed, Oliver Kucka was late somewhere and I was the only one there. There were people in the arcade in Prachatice who wanted to come to the fountain but were afraid to. It was already five o'clock, I thought: 'There's no one here, so it's up to me.' I got over it, climbed up on that fountain and shouted, 'People, don't be afraid, we're going to them!' The first to come, the one who was the least afraid, was the Prague gallery. There were already twenty people, then thirty. But by that time the State Security officers had already come running, they started chasing me. I was running around the fountain, shouting: 'You see the injustice!' I tried to break through people's fear: 'Fear is natural. I'm afraid too. But we have to face it!' Soon, there were a lot of people there and they started to protect me. By then the cops didn't dare to take me down. I spoke there, in a voice crooked with stage fright, but I gave it. For the first time in my life I spoke to a crowd."

  • "I have to boast that I came out of the seventh grade, just like my twin brother Ondrej. I will tell the story as it was. Not that we were stupid, no. I was a good boy in first grade, even writing homework. In second grade we got a different teacher, she was such a Bolshevik bitch, I won't say her name. She bullied us. It's true that we were the Slovaks, we came home, and into sweatpants, to herd cows. One winter - sometimes we walked to school, there were two-meter drifts - my mother left us pajamas and put clothes on top of them. We had gym class, and the kids were taunting us: 'Gee, look at the Klišíks! Their hands are dirty. They're wearing pyjamas!' The teacher took us outside and slapped us. We didn't know why. We were like, 'And you know what, Ondra, I'm never gonna write any more homework.' 'And neither am I.' 'And I'm not gonna study anymore.' 'And neither am I.' I think I would have given up myself, but the two of us stuck it out. I only wrote a few essay assignments in the whole school, and I always got an F in grammar and an A in essay."

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    Plzeň, 20.06.2023

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“Ich schämte mich, dass das Haus früher den vertriebenen Deutschen gehörte. Das war ein schlechtes Gefühl.”

František Klišík in 2023
František Klišík in 2023
photo: Pilsen studio

František Klišík gehört zusammen mit seinem Zwillingsbruder Ondrej zu den letzten Nachkommen der rumänischen Slowaken, die nach dem Krieg nach Stögrova Huť kamen. Sie flohen aus Siebenbürgen, um der Dürre und der Hungersnot zu entkommen, aber statt des versprochenen Weges zurück in die Slowakei fanden sie eine entvölkerte und verödende Grenzregion vor. Die meisten Häuser in Stögrova Huť wurden in den 1960er Jahren abgerissen, und obwohl das Haus der Klišíks stehen geblieben war, haben sie immer noch ein schlechtes Gewissen, dass die ursprünglichen Bewohner vertrieben wurden. Weder František noch sein Bruder fügten sich gut in die Schule ein, sie sprachen daheim nur Slowakisch und nachmittags gingen sie Kühe hüten, anstatt zu lernen. “In der ersten und zweiten Klasse waren wir komplett isoliert, niemand wollte mit uns reden. Kinder können grausam sein. Es kam vor, dass uns die ganze Klasse durch Volary jagte. Einmal, als es kalt war, ließ uns die Mutter den Schlafanzug an und wir zogen unsere Kleidung darüber. Als wir uns für den Sportunterricht umzogen, lachten uns unsere Mitschüler aus. Die Lehrerin hat uns geohrfeigt, weil wir so angezogen waren und schmutzige Hände hatten”, erinnert er sich und fügt hinzu, dass er in der siebten Klasse die Schule verließ. Das Gasthaus und die Leute im Umfeld des Underground und der Dissidentenbewegung wurden deshalb zu seiner „Universität“. „Nach dem Wehrdienst bin ich da in Prag hineingerutscht und habe Leute kennengelernt, mit denen ich heute noch befreundet bin”, kommentiert er das Geschehen. Im Sommer 1989 sammelte er Unterschriften für die Petition ” Ein paar Sätze” und nach der Samtenen Revolution gründete er Bürgerforen in ganz Südböhmen. Text pochází z výstavy Paměť hranice (nejde o překlad životopisu). Der Text stammt aus der Ausstellung Das Gedächtnis der Grenze (es handelt sich nicht um Übersetzung der Biografie).