Translation from the original German: Jackals and Arabs – Franz Kafka (1916-1917)
| We camped in the oasis. Our companions slept. An Arab, tall and white, came along side of me; he had taken care of the camels and went to the sleeping area. I threw myself backwards into the grass; I wanted to sleep; I couldn’t; the accusatory cry of a jackal in the distance; I sat up straight again. And what was so far away was suddenly near. A swarm of jackals around me; eyes gleaming and extinguishing in matte gold; their slender bodies moved nimbly in an ordered pattern as if under a whip. One came up from the rear, shoved himself through under my arm, close to me, as if he needed my warmth, then stood before me and spoke, nearly eye to eye with me: “I am the oldest jackal, far and wide. I am happy to still be able to greet you here. I had already nearly given up hope, we’ve waited so endlessly long for you; my mother waited and her mother and further all of her mothers going all the way back to the mother of all jackals. Believe it!” “That surprises me,” I said and forgot to light the pile of wood lying ready to hold the jackals at bay with its smoke. “It surprises me very much to hear that. It’s only by chance that I have come from the far North and engaged myself on a short trip. What do you want, jackals?” And as if emboldened through this perhaps all too friendly encouragement, they drew their circle closer around me; their breaths short and snarling. “We know”, began the oldest, “that you come from the North; that is precisely what our hope is built upon. Up there is the intellect that is not to be found down here among the Arabs. You know, there is not a sparkle of intellect to be beaten out of this cold haughtiness. They murder animals to eat them and they disrespect the carrion.” “Don’t speak so loudly”, I said, “there are Arabs sleeping nearby.” “You really are a stranger”, said the jackal, “otherwise you would know that never yet in the history of the world has a jackal feared an Arab. We should fear them? Is it not distressing enough that we have been cast away with such people?” “May be, may be”, I said, “I don’t measure judgment on things that lie so far away from me; it appears a very old feud; it’s probably in the blood; so it will probably only end with blood.” “You are very clever”, said the old jackal; and all the others breathed quicker; with rushed lungs, although they were standing still; occasionally a bitter smell only bearable with clenched teeth gushed from their open mouths, “you are very clever; what you are saying is in accordance with our old teachings. So we will take your blood and then the feud will be over.” “Oh!” I said, wilder than I meant to, “they will defend themselves; they will shoot you down by the herds with their flints.” “You misunderstand us”, he said, “in that way of humans that I now see also hasn’t lost anything in the far North. We will not kill you. The Nile wouldn’t have enough water to cleanse us. At the very sight of your living bodies we run away, into the clean air, into the desert, which is our home for that reason.” All jackals around, and in the meantime many more from far and wide had gathered, sunk their heads between their front legs and cleaned themselves with their paws; it was as if they wanted to hide a wild instinct that was so terrible that I wanted nothing so much as to escape their circle with a high leap. “What do you plan to do then?” I asked and wanted to stand up; but I couldn’t; two young animals had bitten into my skirt and shirt from behind; I had to remain seated. “They are holding your train” said the old jackal solemnly in explanation, “a display of honor.” “They should let me go!” I yelled, turning first to the Elder, then to the younger jackals. “Naturally they will”, said the Elder, “if you demand it. But it will take a while because, according to custom, they have sunk their teeth in deeply and must first slowly unlock their jaws. In the meantime hear our plea.” “Your behavior has not made me very receptive”, I said. “Let us not suffer for our clumsiness”, he said and for the first time assumed in assistance his natural tone of voice, “we are poor animals, we only have our sets of teeth; for everything that we want to do, the good and the bad, all we can rely on is our set of teeth.” “What do you want then?” I asked, only slightly placated. “Sir,” he called, and all the jackals started howling; in the far distance it seemed to me to be a melody. “Sir, you should end this feud that divides the world in two. As you are, our Elders have described the person who will accomplish this. We must have peace with the Arabs; breathable air; the view cleansed around the horizon; no accusing cry of mutton, that have been stabbed by the Arabs; all the animals should perish silently; undisturbed it should be drunk empty by us and cleansed through to the bones. Purity, it is nothing more than purity that we want” – and now everyone wept and sobbed – “how do you stand it in this world, you noble heart and sweet viscera? Filth is your white; filth is your black; dread is your beard; at the sight of the corner of your eyes one must vomit; and when you lift your arm Hell opens in your armpit. That’s why. O Sir, that’s why, oh dear Sir, with the help of your all-powerful hands, with the help of your all-powerful hands cut his throat with these scissors!” And at the nod of his head a jackal came by who carried on a corner tooth a small pair of sewing scissors flecked with old rust. “So, finally the scissors and that’s the end of it!” called the Arab leader of our caravan, who had snuck up to us against the wind and now swung his huge whip. Everything happened quickly, but they stayed in the distance, cowering close together, the many animals so thin and rigid, that it looked like a small herd overtaken by jack-o’-lanterns. “So, Sir, you have seen and heard this spectacle” said the Arab and laughed as merrily as the restraint of his clan allowed. “Do you know then, what the animals want?” I asked. “Naturally, Sir”, he said, “that’s universally known; as long as there are Arabs, these scissors wander around the desert and will wander with us until the end of days. Every European will be offered them to do a great deed; every European is at that moment the one person that has been called to them. These animals have senseless hope; fools, true fools they are. We love them for that; they are our dogs; more beautiful than yours. Just look, a camel died in the night, I ordered it brought here.” Four carriers came and threw the heavy cadaver before us. It was hardly lying there before the jackals raised their voices. As if each individually was pulled irresistibly on a rope, they came, haltingly, grazing the ground with their bodies. They had forgotten the Arabs, forgotten the hate, the all-obliterating presence of the strongly perspiring corpse enchanted them. Already one hung on the neck and found the artery with one bite. Like a small, racing pump that just as urgently and pointlessly wants to extinguish a too powerful fire, the muscles of its body pulled and jerked as they lay. And already they were working together to carry the corpse up to the mountain. The leader lashed strongly with the sharp whip in a crisscross fashion at them. They lifted their heads; half in intoxication and half in impotence; they saw the Arabs standing before them; they now felt the blows of the whip upon them; they jumped back in retreat and ran a bit backwards. But the blood of the camel already lie in their smiles, smoking aloft, the body was ripped wide open in many places. They could not resist; again they were there; again the leader raised the whip; I grabbed his arm. “You are right, Sir”, he said, “we will leave them to their job – it is in any case time to move on. You’ve seen them. Wonderful animals, aren’t they? And how they hate us!” |