Let us concede that a Czech public prosecutor in the early fifties who called for the death of an innocent man was deceived by the Russian secret police and the government of his own country。 But now that we all know the accusations to have been absurd and the executed to have been innocent； how can that selfsame public prosecutor defend his purity of heart by beating himself on the chest and proclaiming； My conscience is clear！ I didn't know！ I was a believer！ Isn't his I didn't know！ I was a believer！ at the very root of his irreparable guilt？
It was in this connection that Tomas recalled the tale of Oedipus： Oedipus did not know he was sleeping with his own mother； yet when he realized what had happened； he did not feel innocent。 Unable to stand the sight of the misfortunes he had wrought by not knowing； he put out his eyes and wandered blind away from Thebes。
When Tomas heard Communists shouting in defense of their inner purity； he said to himself； As a result of your not knowing； this country has lost its freedom； lost it for centuries； perhaps； and you shout that you feel no guilt？ How can you stand the sight of what you've done？ How is it you aren't horrified？ Have you no eyes to see？ If you had eyes； you would have to put them out and wander away from Thebes！
The analogy so pleased him that he often used it in conversation with friends； and his formulation grew increasingly precise and elegant。
Like all intellectuals at the time； he read a weekly newspaper published in three hundred thousand copies by the Union of Czech Writers。 It was a paper that had achieved considerable autonomy within the regime and dealt with issues forbidden to others。 Consequently； it was the writers' paper that raised the issue of who bore the burden of guilt for the judicial murders resulting from the political trials that marked the early years of Communist power。
Even the writers' paper merely repeated the same question： Did they know or did they not？ Because Tomas found this question second…rate； he sat down one day； wrote down his reflections on Oedipus； and sent them to the weekly。 A month later he received an answer： an invitation to the editorial offices。 The editor who greeted him was short but as straight as a ruler。 He suggested that Tomas change the word order in one of the sentences。 And soon the text made its appearance—on the next to the last page； in the Letters to the Editor section。
Tomas was far from overjoyed。 They had considered it necessary to ask him to the editorial offices to approve a change in word order； but then； without asking him； shortened his text by so much that it was reduced to its basic thesis （making it too schematic and aggressive）。 He didn't like it anymore。
All this happened in the spring of 1968。 Alexander Dubcek was in power； along with those Communists who felt guilty and were willing to do something about their guilt。 But the other Communists； the ones who kept shouting how innocent they were； were afraid that the enraged nation would bring them to justice。 They complained daily to the Russian ambassador； trying to drum up support。 When Tomas's letter appeared； they shouted： See what things have come to！ Now they're telling us publicly to put our eyes out！
Two or three months later the Russians decided that free speech was inadmissible in their gubernia； and in a single night they occupied Tomas's country with their army。
3
When Tomas came back to Prague from Zurich； he took up in his hospital where he had left off。 Then one day the chief surgeon called him in。
You know as well as I do； he said； that you're no writer or journalist or savior of the nation。 You're a doctor and a scientist。 I'd be very sad to lose you； and I'll do everything I can to keep you here。 But you've got to retract that article you wrote about Oedipus。 Is it terribly important to you？
To tell you the truth； said Tomas； recalling how they had amputated a good third of the text； it couldn't be any less important。
You know what's at stake； said the chief surgeon。
He knew； all right。 There were two things in the balance： his honor （which consisted in his refusing to retract what he had said） and what he had come to call the meaning of his life （his work in medicine and research）。
The chief surgeon went on： The pressure to make public retractions of past statements—there's something medieval about it。 What does it mean； anyway； to 'retract' what you've said？ How can anyone state categorically that a thought he once had is no longer valid？ In modern times an idea can be refuted； yes； but not retracted。 And since to retract an idea is impossible； merely verbal； formal sorcery； I see no reason why you shouldn't do as they wish。 In a society run by terror； no statements whatsoever can be taken seriously。 They are all forced； and it is the duty of every honest man to ignore them。 Let me conclude by saying that it is in my interest and in your patients' interest that you stay on here with us。
You're right； I'm sure； said Tomas； looking very unhappy。
But？ The chief surgeon was trying to guess his train of thought。
I'm afraid I'd be ashamed。
Ashamed！ You mean to say you hold your colleagues in such high esteem that you care what they think？
No； I don't hold them in high esteem； said Tomas。
Oh； by the way； the chief surgeon added； you won't have to make a public statement。 I have their assurance。 They're bureaucrats。 All they need is a note in their files to the effect that you've nothing against the regime。 Then if someone comes and attacks them for letting you work at the hospital； they're covered。 They've given me their word that anything you say will remain between you and them。 They have no intention of publishing a word of it。
Give me a week to think it over； said Tomas； and there the matter rested。
4
Tomas was considered the best surgeon in the hospital。 Rumor had it that the chief surgeon； who was getting on towards retirement age； would soon ask him to take over。 When that rumor was supplemented by the rumor that the authorities had requested a statement of self…criticism from him； no one doubted he would comply。
That was the first thing that struck him： although he had never given people cause to doubt his integrity； they were ready to bet on his dishonesty rather than on his virtue。
The second thing that struck him was their reaction to the position they attributed to him。 I might divide it into two basic types：
The first type of reaction came from people who themselves （they or their intimates） had retracted something； who had themselves been forced to make public peace with the occupation regime or were prepared to do so （unwillingly； of course—no one wanted to do it）。
These people began to smile a curious smile at him； a smile he had never seen before： the sheepish smile of secret conspiratorial consent。 It was the smile of two men meeting accidentally in a brothel： both slightly abashed； they are at the same time glad that the feeling is mutual； and a bond of something akin to brotherhood develops between them。
Their smiles were all the more complacent because he had never had the reputation of being a conformist。 His supposed acceptance of the chief surgeon's proposal was therefore further proof that cowardice was slowly but surely becoming the norm of behavior and would soon cease being taken for what it actually was。 He had never been friends with these people； and he realized with dismay that if he did in fact make the statement the chief surgeon had requested of him； they would start inviting him to parties and he would have to make friends with them。
The second type of reaction came from people who themselves （they or their intimates） had been persecuted； who had refused to compromise with the occupation powers or were convinced they would refuse to compromise （to sign a statement） even though no one had requested it of them （for instance； because they were too young to be seriously involved）。
One of the latter； Doctor S。； a talented young physician； asked Tomas one day； Well； have you written it up for them？
What in the world are you talking about？ Tomas asked in return。
Why； your retraction； he said。 There was no malice in his voice。 He even smiled。 One more smile from that thick her