Martin Konečný

“My former wife, the mother of my eldest daughter, had an opinion back then, that ´being a hero is not a wise choice´. So she warned me not to join any marches, but go home and learn. And I misbehaved and I knew principally that I had to go, as in certain respects I was naughty, and in this case it was a matter of principle and personal belief. When we walked with Zuzana Brabcová, back then she was an unknown writer, further to Albertov down the Vyšehrad, we felt something was wrong. I remember walking along the riverside, I was thinking that smelt through the pier, and someone in the front was dancing with the national flag and crying out. I was thinking, we were going somewhere not knowing where at all. That was not agreed ahead. I was trying to stay in front and talk to the people asking where and why we were going, and what were we actually doing. But no one wanted to communicate. And there was Zifčák, who was directing it all toward the National Avenue; he was a provoker and we had no clue about that. There were so many people in the crowd, people were running out of their houses and joining it spontaneously so it was rather massive. There were not only students, many people joined too, and it all shrinked together at the National. People just ran away. Same as my friend Zuzana did, who said: ‚I am scared, so I just go home‘ and ran. She was really quite sensitive and extremely intuitive being, and also wrote many lovely books then; sadly she died last year. So there were a lot less people in the National Avenue, that was clear something was happening and the police was there too and I still kept in the front. When Zuzana left I thought I would stay on contrary, and still in the first or second line. Later I met Hanka Marvanová, a couple of years ago we agreed we were actually here together, right in front of the secret police. Of course we were afraid, singing, crying out and waiting for something to happen. And then the order to strike came and that was really important for me, as I felt something strange and mystical. I kind of knew I had to stay, where I was. Despite the risk, not knowing how it all ends up. I understood it so that they could massacre us and it was important to do that, I felt internally connected to Rozálie, my daughter and kept thinking: I need to remain so that she can live in a free world in future. And so I stayed. When they began to beat us, I kneeled on the ground and prayed. I did not back off, just stayed where I was, and they were trying to get me with their nightsticks and someone took me from behind dragging me away from the police cordon. And right that moment, when I just stayed there kneeling and praying, that was an authentic mystic experience. It is hard to describe. There is something of my grandfather in me I guess, something like giving in as he did, but really he faced death. That was the key moment of the whole revolution for me.“