In the Penal Colony | KAFKA

| sábado, 12 de setembro de 2009
"It's a remarkable piece of apparatus," said the officer to the explorer and surveyed with a
certain air of admiration the apparatus which was after all quite familiar to him. The explorer
seemed to have accepted merely out of politeness the Commandant's invitation to witness the
execution of a soldier condemned to death for disobedience and insulting behavior to a superior. Nor
did the colony itself betray much interest in this execution. At least, in the small sandy valley, a deep
hollow surrounded on all sides by naked crags, there was no one present save the officer, the
explorer, the condemned man, who was a stupid-looking, wide-mouthed creature with bewildered
hair and face, and the soldier who held the heavy chain controlling the small chains locked on the
prisoner's ankles, wrists, and neck, chains that were themselves attached to each other by
communicating links. In any case, the condemned man looked so like a submissive dog that one
might have thought he could be left to run free on the surrounding hills and would only need to be
whistled for when the execution was due to begin.

"It's a remarkable piece of apparatus," said the officer to the explorer and surveyed with a
certain air of admiration the apparatus which was after all quite familiar to him. The explorer
seemed to have accepted merely out of politeness the Commandant's invitation to witness the
execution of a soldier condemned to death for disobedience and insulting behavior to a superior. Nor
did the colony itself betray much interest in this execution. At least, in the small sandy valley, a deep
hollow surrounded on all sides by naked crags, there was no one present save the officer, the
explorer, the condemned man, who was a stupid-looking, wide-mouthed creature with bewildered
hair and face, and the soldier who held the heavy chain controlling the small chains locked on the
prisoner's ankles, wrists, and neck, chains that were themselves attached to each other by
communicating links. In any case, the condemned man looked so like a submissive dog that one
might have thought he could be left to run free on the surrounding hills and would only need to be
whistled for when the execution was due to begin.
The explorer did not much care about the apparatus and walked up and down behind the
prisoner with almost visible indifference while the officer made the last adjustments, now creeping
beneath the structure, which was bedded deep in the earth, now climbing a ladder to inspect its
upper parts. These were tasks that might well have been left to a mechanic, but the officer performed
them with great zeal, whether because he was a devoted admirer of the apparatus or because of other
reasons the work could be entrusted to no one else. "Ready now!" he called at last and climbed
down from the ladder. He looked uncommonly limp, breathed with his mouth wide open, and had
tucked two fine ladies' handkerchiefs under the collar of his uniform. "These uniforms are too heavy
for the tropics, surely," said the explorer, instead of making some inquiry about the apparatus, as the
officer had expected. "Of course," said the officer, washing his oily and greasy hands in a bucket of
water that stood ready, "but they mean home to us; we don't want to forget about home. Now just
have a look at this machine," he added at once, simultaneously drying his hands on a towel and
indicating the apparatus. "Up till now a few things still had to be set by hand, but from this moment
it works all by itself." The explorer nodded and followed him. The officer, anxious to secure himself
against all contingencies, said: "Things sometimes go wrong, of course; I hope that nothing goes
wrong today, but we have to allow for the possibility. The machinery should go on working
continuously for twelve hours. But if anything does go wrong it will only be some small matter that
can be set right at once."
"Won't you take a seat?" he asked finally, drawing a cane chair out from among a heap of
them and offering it to the explorer, who could not refuse it. He was now sitting at the edge of a pit,
into which he glanced for a fleeting moment. It was not very deep. On one side of the pit the
excavated soil had been piled up in a rampart, on the other side of it stood the apparatus. "I don't
know," said the officer, "if the Commandant has already explained this apparatus to you." The
explorer waved one hand vaguely; the officer asked for nothing better, since now he could explain
the apparatus himself. "This apparatus," he said, taking hold of a crank handle and leaning against it,
"was invented by our former Commandant. I assisted at the very earliest experiments and had a
share in all the work until its completion. But the credit of inventing it belongs to him alone. Have
you ever heard of our former Commandant? No? Well, it isn't saying too much if I tell you that the
organization of the whole penal colony is his work. We who were his friends knew even before he
died that the organization of the colony was so perfect that his successor, even with a thousand new
schemes in his head, would find it impossible to alter anything, at least for many years to come. And
our prophecy has come true; the new Commandant has had to acknowledge its truth. A pity you
never met the old Commandant! -- But," the officer interrupted himself, "I am rambling on, and here
stands his apparatus before us. It consists, as you see, of three parts. In the course of time each of
these parts has acquired a kind of popular nickname. The lower one is called the 'Bed,' the upper one
the 'Designer,' and this one here in the middle that moves up and down is called the 'Harrow.' " "The
Harrow?" asked the explorer. He had not been listening very attentively, the glare of the sun in the
shadeless valley was altogether too strong, it was difficult to collect one's thoughts. All the more did
he admire the officer, who in spite of his tight-fitting full-dress uniform coat, amply befrogged and
weighed down by epaulettes, was pursuing his subject with such enthusiasm and, besides talking,
was still tightening a screw here and there with a spanner. As for the soldier, he seemed to be in
much the same condition as the explorer. He had wound the prisoner's chain around both his wrists,
propped himself on his rifle, let his head hang, and was paying no attention to anything. That did not
surprise the explorer, for the officer was speaking French, and certainly neither the soldier nor the
prisoner understood a word of French. It was all the more remarkable, therefore, that the prisoner
was nonetheless making an effort to follow the officer's explanations. With a kind of drowsy
persistence he directed his gaze wherever the officer pointed a finger, and at the interruption of the
explorer's question he, too, as well as the officer, looked around.
"Yes, the Harrow," said the officer, "a good name for it. The needles are set in like the teeth
of a harrow and the whole thing works something like a harrow, although its action is limited to one
place and contrived with much more artistic skill. Anyhow, you'll soon understand it. On the Bed
here the condemned man is laid -- I'm going to describe the apparatus first before I set it in motion.
Then you'll be able to follow the proceedings better. Besides, one of the cogwheels in the Designer
is badly worn; it creaks a lot when it's working; you can hardly hear yourself speak; spare parts,
unfortunately, are difficult to get here. -- Well, here is the Bed, as I told you. It is completely
covered with a layer of cotton wool; you'll find out why later. On this cotton wool the condemned
man is laid, face down, quite naked, of course; here are straps for the hands, here for the feet, and
here for the neck, to bind him fast. Here at the head of the Bed, where the rnan, as I said, first lays
down his face, is this little gag of felt, which can be easily regulated to go straight into his mouth. It
is meant to keep him from screaming and biting his tongue. Of course the man is forced to take the
felt into his mouth, for otherwise his neck would be broken by the strap." "Is that cotton wool?"
asked the explorer, bending forward. "Yes, certainly," said the officer, with a smile, "feel it for
yourself." He took the explorer's hand and guided it over the Bed. "It's specially prepared cotton
wool, that's why it looks so different; I'll tell you presently what it's for." The explorer already felt a
dawning interest in the apparatus; he sheltered his eyes from the sun with one hand and gazed up at
the structure. It was a huge affair. The Bed and the Designer were of the same size and looked like
two dark wooden chests. The Designer hung about two meters above the Bed; each of them was
bound at the corners with four rods of brass that almost flashed out rays in the sunlight. Between the
chests shuttled the Harrow on a ribbon of steel.
The officer had scarcely noticed the explorer's previous indifference, but he was now well
aware of his dawning interest; so he stopped explaining in order to leave a space of time for quiet
observation. The condemned man imitated the explorer; since he could not use a hand to shelter his
eyes he gazed upwards without shade.
"Well, the man lies down," said the explorer, leaning back in his chair and crossing his legs.
"Yes," said the officer, pushing his cap back a little and passing one hand over his heated
face, "now listen! Both the Bed and the Designer have an electric battery each; the Bed needs one
for itself, the Designer for the Harrow. As soon as the man is strapped down, the Bed is set in
motion. It quivers in minute, very rapid vibrations, both from side to side and up and down. You
will have seen similar apparatus in hospitals; but in our Bed the movements are all precisely
calculated; you see, they have to correspond very exactly to the movements of the Harrow. And the
Harrow is the instrument for the actual execution of the sentence."
"And how does the sentence run?" asked the explorer.
"You don't know that either?" said the officer in amazement, and bit his lips. "Forgive me if
my explanations seem rather incoherent. I do beg your pardon. You see, the Commandant always
used to do the explaining; but the new Commandant shirks this duty; yet that such an important
visitor" -- the explorer tried to deprecate the honor with both hands, the officer, however, insisted --
"that such an important visitor should not even be told about the kind of sentence we pass is a new
development, which --" He was just on the point of using strong language but checked himself and
said only: "I was not informed, it is not my fault. In any case, I am certainly the best person to
explain our procedure, since I have here" -- he patted his breast pocket -- "the relevant drawings
made by our former Commandant."
"The Commandant's own drawings?" asked the explorer. "Did he combine everything in
himself, then? Was he soldier, judge, mechanic, chemist, and draughtsman?"
"Indeed he was," said the officer, nodding assent, with a remote, glassy look. Then he
inspected his hands critically; they did not seem clean enough to him for touching the drawings; so
he went over to the bucket and washed them again. Then he drew out a small leather wallet and said:
"Our sentence does not sound severe. Whatever commandment the prisoner has disobeyed is written
upon his body by the Harrow. This prisoner, for instance" -- the officer indicated the man -- "will
have written on his body: HONOR THY SUPERIORS! "
The explorer glanced at the man; he stood, as the officer pointed him out, with bent head,
apparently listening with all his ears in an effort to catch what was being said. Yet the movement of
his blubber lips, closely pressed together, showed clearly that he could not understand a word. Many
questions were troubling the explorer, but at the sight of the prisoner he asked only: "Does he know
his sentence?" "No," said the officer, eager to go on with his exposition, but the explorer interrupted
him: "He doesn't know the sentence that has been passed on him?" "No," said the officer again,
pausing a moment as if to let the explorer elaborate his question, and then said: "There would be no
point in telling him. He'll learn it on his body." The explorer intended to make no answer, but he felt
the prisoner's gaze turned on him; it seemed to ask if he approved such goings-on. So he bent
forward again, having already leaned back in his chair, and put another question: "But surely he
knows that he has been sentenced?" "Nor that either," said the officer, smiling at the explorer as if
expecting him to make further surprising remarks. "No," said the explorer, wiping his forehead,
"then he can't know either whether his defense was effective?" "He has had no chance of putting up
a defense," said the officer, turning his eyes away as if speaking to himself and so sparing the
explorer the shame of hearing self-evident matters explained. "But he must have had some chance of
defending himself," said the explorer, and rose from his seat.
The officer realized that he was in danger of having his exposition of the apparatus held up
for a long time; so he went up to the explorer, took him by the arm, waved a hand toward the
condemned man, who was standing very straight now that he had so obviously become the center of
attention -- the soldier had also given the chain a jerk -- and said: "This is how the matter stands. I
have been appointed judge in this penal colony. Despite my youth. For I was the former
Commandant's assistant in all penal matters and know more about the apparatus than anyone. My
guiding principle is this: Guilt is never to be doubted. Other courts cannot follow that principle, for
they consist of several opinions and have higher courts to scrutinize them. That is not the case here,
or at least, it was not the case in the former Commandant's time. The new man has certainly shown
some inclination to interfere with my judgments, but so far I have succeeded in fending him off and
will go on succeeding. You wanted to have the case explained; it is quite simple, like all of them. A
captain reported to me this morning that this man, who had been assigned to him as a servant and
sleeps before his door, had been asleep on duty. It is his duty, you see, to get up every time the hour
strikes and salute the captain's door. Not an exacting duty, and very necessary, since he has to be a
sentry as well as a servant, and must be alert in both functions. Last night the captain wanted to see
if the man was doing his duty. He opened the door as the clock struck two and there was his man
curled up asleep. He took his riding whip and lashed him across the face. Instead of getting up and
begging pardon, the man caught hold of his master's legs, shook him, and cried: 'Throw that whip
away or I'll eat you alive.' -- That's the evidence. The captain came to me an hour ago, I wrote down
his statement and appended the sentence to it. Then I had the man put in chains. That was all quite
simple. If I had first called the man before me and interrogated him, things would have got into a
confused tangle. He would have told lies, and had I exposed these lies he would have backed them
up with more lies, and so on and so forth. As it is, I've got him and I won't let him go. -- Is that quite
clear now? But we're wasting time, the execution should be beginning and I haven't finished
explaining the apparatus yet." He pressed the explorer back into his chair, went up again to the
apparatus, and began: "As you see, the shape of the Harrow corresponds to the human form; here is
the harrow for the torso, here are the harrows for the legs. For the head there is only this one small
spike. Is that quite clear?" He bent amiably forward toward the explorer, eager to provide the most
comprehensive explanations.
The explorer considered the Harrow with a frown. The explanation of the judicial procedure
had not satisfied him. He had to remind himself that this was in any case a penal colony where
extraordinary measures were needed and that military discipline must be enforced to the last. He
also felt that some hope might be set on the new Commandant, who was apparently of a mind to
bring in, although gradually, a new kind of procedure which the officer's narrow mind was incapable
of understanding. This train of thought prompted his next question: "Will the Commandant attend
the execution?" "It is not certain," said the officer, wincing at the direct question, and his friendly
expression darkened. "That is just why we have to lose no time. Much as I dislike it, I shall have to
cut my explanations short. But of course tomorrow, when the apparatus has been cleaned -- its one
drawback is that it gets so messy -- I can recapitulate all the details. For the present, then, only the
essentials. -- When the man lies down on the Bed and it begins to vibrate, the Harrow is lowered
onto his body. It regulates itself automatically so that the needles barely touch his skin; once contact
is made the steel ribbon stiffens immediately into a rigid band. And then the performance begins. An
ignorant onlooker would see no difference between one punishment and another. The Harrow
appears to do its work with uniform regularity. As it quivers, its points pierce the skin of the body
which is itself quivering from the vibration of the Bed. So that the actual progress of the sentence
can be watched, the Harrow is made of glass. Getting the needles fixed in the glass was a technical
problem, but after many experiments we overcame the difficulty. No trouble was too great for us to
take, you see. And now anyone can look through the glass and watch the inscription taking form on
the body. Wouldn't you care to come a little nearer and have a look at the needles?"
The explorer got up slowly, walked across, and bent over the Harrow. "You see," said the
officer, "there are two kinds of needles arranged in multiple patterns. Each long needle has a short
one beside it. The long needle does the writing, and the short needle sprays a jet of water to wash
away the blood and keep the inscription clear. Blood and water together are then conducted here
through small runnels into this main runnel and down a waste pipe into the pit." With his finger the
officer traced the exact course taken by the blood and water. To make the picture as vivid as
possible he held both hands below the outlet of the waste pipe as if to catch the outflow, and when
he did this the explorer drew back his head and feeling behind him with one hand sought to return to
his chair. To his horror he found that the condemned man too had obeyed the officer's invitation to
examine the Harrow at close quarters and had followed him. He had pulled forward the sleepy
soldier with the chain and was bending over the glass. One could see that his uncertain eyes were
trying to perceive what the two gentlemen had been looking at, but since he had not understood the
explanation he could not make head or tail of it. He was peering this way and that way. He kept
running his eyes along the glass. The explorer wanted to drive him away, since what he was doing
was probably culpable. But the officer firmly restrained the explorer with one hand and with the
other took a clod of earth from the rampart and threw it at the soldier. He opened his eyes with a
jerk, saw what the condemned man had dared to do, let his rifle fall, dug his heels into the ground,
dragged his prisoner back so that he stumbled and fell immediately, and then stood looking down at
him, watching him struggling and rattling in his chains. "Set him on his feet!" yelled the officer, for
he noticed that the explorer's attention was being too much distracted by the prisoner. In fact he was
even leaning right across the Harrow, without taking any notice of it, intent only on finding out what
was happening to the prisoner. "Be careful with him!" cried the officer again. He ran around the
apparatus, himself caught the condemned man under the shoulders, and with the soldier's help got
him up on his feet, which kept slithering from under him.
"Now I know all about it," said the explorer as the officer came back to him. "All except the
most important thing," he answered, seizing the explorer's arm and pointing upwards: "In the
Designer are all the cogwheels that control the movements of the Harrow, and this machinery is
regulated according to the inscription demanded by the sentence. I am still using the guiding plans
drawn by the former Commandant. Here they are" -- he extracted some sheets from the leather
wallet -- "but I'm sorry I can't let you handle them, they are my most precious possessions. Just take
a seat and I'll hold them in front of you like this, then you'll be able to see everything quite well." He
spread out the first sheet of paper. The explorer would have liked to say something appreciative, but
all he could see was a labyrinth of lines crossing and recrossing each other, which covered the paper
so thickly that it was difficult to discern the blank spaces between them. "Read it," said the officer.
"I can't," said the explorer. "Yet it's clear enough," said the officer. "It's very ingenious," said the
explorer evasively, "but I can't make it out." "Yes," said the officer with a laugh, putting the paper
away again, "it's no calligraphy for school children. It needs to be studied closely. I'm quite sure that
in the end you would understand it too. Of course the script can't be a simple one; it's not supposed
to kill a man straight off, but only after an interval of, on an average, twelve hours; the turning point
is reckoned to come at the sixth hour. So there have to be lots and lots of flourishes around the
actual script; the script itself runs around the body only in a narrow girdle; the rest of the body is
reserved for the embellishments. Can you appreciate now the work accomplished by the Harrow and
the whole apparatus? -- Just watch it!" He ran up the ladder, turned a wheel, called down: "Look out,
keep to one side!" and everything started working. If the wheel had not creaked, it would have been
marvelous. The officer, as if surprised by the noise of the wheel, shook his fist at it, then spread out
his arms in excuse to the explorer, and climbed down rapidly to peer at the working of the machine
from below. Something perceptible to no one save himself was still not in order; he clambered up
again, did something with both hands in the interior of the Designer, then slid down one of the rods,
instead of using the ladder, so as to get down quicker, and with the full force of his lungs, to make
himself heard at all in the noise, yelled in the explorer's ear: "Can you follow it? The Harrow is
beginning to write; when it finishes the first draft of the inscription on the man's back, the layer of
cotton wool begins to roll and slowly turns the body over, to give the Harrow fresh space for
writing. Meanwhile the raw part that has been written on lies on the cotton wool, which is specially
prepared to staunch the bleeding and so makes all ready for a new deepening of the script. Then
these teeth at the edge of the Harrow, as the body turns further around, tear the cotton wool away
from the wounds, throw it into the pit, and there is more work for the Harrow. So it keeps on writing
deeper and deeper for the whole twelve hours. The first six hours the condemned man stays alive
almost as before, he suffers only pain. After two hours the felt gag is taken away, for he has no
longer strength to scream. Here, into this electrically heated basin at the head of the Bed, some
warm rice pap is poured, from which the man, if he feels like it, can take as much as his tongue can
lap. Not one of them ever misses the chance. I can remember none, and my experience is extensive.
Only about the sixth hour does the man lose all desire to eat. I usually kneel down here at that
moment and observe what happens. The man rarely swallows his last mouthful, he only rolls it
around his mouth and spits it out into the pit. I have to duck just then or he would spit it in my face.
But how quiet he grows at just about the sixth hour! Enlightenment comes to the most dull-witted. It
begins around the eyes. From there it radiates. A moment that might tempt one to get under the
Harrow oneself. Nothing more happens than that the man begins to understand the inscription, he
purses his mouth as if he were listening. You have seen how difficult it is to decipher the script with
one's eyes; but our man deciphers it with his wounds. To be sure, that is a hard task; he needs six
hours to accomplish it. By that time the Harrow has pierced him quite through and casts him into the
pit, where he pitches down upon the blood and water and the cotton wool. Then the judgment has
been fulfilled, and we, the soldier and I, bury him."
The explorer had inclined his ear to the officer and with his hands in his jacket pockets
watched the machine at work. The condemned man watched it too, but uncomprehendingly. He bent
forward a little and was intent on the moving needles when the soldier, at a sign from the officer,
slashed through his shirt and trousers from behind with a knife, so that they fell off; he tried to catch
at his falling clothes to cover his nakedness, but the soldier lifted him into the air and shook the last
remnants from him. The officer stopped the machine, and in the sudden silence the condemned man
was laid under the Harrow. The chains were loosened and the straps fastened on instead; in the first
moment that seemed almost a relief to the prisoner. And now the Harrow was adjusted a little lower,
since he was a thin man. When the needle points touched him a shudder ran over his skin; while the
soldier was busy strapping his right hand, he flung out his left hand blindly; but it happened to be in
the direction toward where the explorer was standing. The officer kept watching the explorer
sideways, as if seeking to read from his face the impression made on him by the execution, which
had been at least cursorily explained to him.
The wrist strap broke; probably the soldier had drawn it too tight. The officer had to
intervene, the soldier held up the broken piece of strap to show him. So the officer went over to him
and said, his face still turned toward the explorer: "This is a very complex machine, it can't be
helped that things are breaking or giving way here and there; but one must not thereby allow oneself
to be diverted in one's general judgment. In any case, this strap is easily made good; I shall simply
use a chain; the delicacy of the vibrations for the right arm will of course be a little impaired." And
while he fastened the chains, he added: "The resources for maintaining the machine are now very
much reduced. Under the former Commandant I had free access to a sum of money set aside entirely
for this purpose. There was a store, too, in which spare parts were kept for repairs of all kinds. I
confess I have been almost prodigal with them, I mean in the past, not now as the new Commandant
pretends, always looking for an excuse to attack our old way of doing things. Now he has taken
charge of the machine money himself, and if I send for a new strap they ask for the broken old strap
as evidence, and the new strap takes ten days to appear and then is of shoddy material and not much
good. But how I am supposed to work the machine without a strap, that's something nobody bothers
about."
The explorer thought to himself: It's always a ticklish matter to intervene decisively in other
people's affairs. He was neither a member of the penal colony nor a citizen of the state to which it
belonged. Were he to denounce this execution or actually try to stop it, they could say to him: You
are a foreigner, mind your own business. He could make no answer to that, unless he were to add
that he was amazed at himself in this connection, for he traveled only as an observer, with no
intention at all of altering other people's methods of administering justice. Yet here he found himself
strongly tempted. The injustice of the procedure and the inhumanity of the execution were
undeniable. No one could suppose that he had any selfish interest in the matter, for the condemned
man was a complete stranger, not a fellow countryman or even at all sympathetic to him. The
explorer himself had recommendations from high quarters, had been received here with great
courtesy, and the very fact that he had been invited to attend the execution seemed to suggest that
his views would be welcome. And this was all the more likely since the Commandant, as he had
heard only too plainly, was no upholder of the procedure and maintained an attitude almost of
hostility to the officer.
At that moment the explorer heard the officer cry out in rage. He had just, with considerable
difficulty, forced the felt gag into the condemned man's mouth when the man in an irresistible access
of nausea shut his eyes and vomited. Hastily the officer snatched him away from the gag and tried to
hold his head over the pit; but it was too late, the vomit was running all over the machine. "It's all
the fault of that Commandant!" cried the officer, senselessly shaking the brass rods in front, "the
machine is befouled like a pigsty." With trembling hands he indicated to the explorer what had
happened. "Have I not tried for hours at a time to get the Commandant to understand that the
prisoner must fast for a whole day before the execution. But our new, mild doctrine thinks
otherwise. The Commandant's ladies stuff the man with sugar candy before he's led off. He has lived
on stinking fish his whole life long and now he has to eat sugar candy! But it could still be possible,
I should have nothing to say against it, but why won't they get me a new felt gag, which I have been
begging for the last three months. How should a man not feel sick when he takes a felt gag into his
mouth which more than a hundred men have already slobbered and gnawed in their dying
moments?"
The condemned man had laid his head down and looked peaceful, the soldier was busy
trying to clean the machine with the prisoner's shirt. The officer advanced toward the explorer who
in some vague presentiment fell back a pace, but the officer seized him by the hand, and drew him to
one side. "I should like to exchange a few words with you in confidence," he said, "may I?" "Of
course," said the explorer, and listened with downcast eyes.
"This procedure and method of execution, which you are now having the opportunity to
admire, has at the moment no longer any open adherents in our colony. I am its sole advocate, and at
the same time the sole advocate of the old Commandant's tradition. I can no longer reckon on any
further extension of the method, it takes all my energy to maintain it as it is. During the old
Commandant's lifetime the colony was full of his adherents; his strength of conviction I still have in
some measure, but not an atom of his power; consequently the adherents have skulked out of sight,
there are still many of them but none of them will admit it. If you were to go into the teahouse today,
on execution day, and listen to what is being said, you would perhaps hear only ambiguous remarks.
These would all be made by adherents, but under the present Commandant and his present doctrines
they are of no use to me. And now I ask you: because of this Commandant and the women who
influence him, is such a piece of work, the work of a lifetime" -- he pointed to the machine -- "to
perish? Ought one to let that happen? Even if one has only come as a stranger to our island for a few
days? But there's no time to lose, an attack of some kind is impending on my function as judge;
conferences are already being held in the Commandant's office from which I am excluded; even
your coming here today seems to me a significant move; they are cowards and use you as a screen,
you, a stranger. -- How different an execution was in the old days! A whole day before the
ceremony the valley was packed with people; they all came only to look on; early in the morning the
Commandant appeared with his ladies; fanfares roused the whole camp; I reported that everything
was in readiness; the assembled company -- no high official dared to absent himself -- arranged
itself around the machine; this pile of cane chairs is a miserable survival from that epoch. The
machine was freshly cleaned and glittering, I got new spare parts for almost every execution. Before
hundreds of spectators -- all of them standing on tiptoe as far as the heights there -- the condemned
man was laid under the Harrow by the Commandant himself. What is left today for a common
soldier to do was then my task, the task of the presiding judge, and was an honor for me. And then
the execution began! No discordant noise spoiled the working of the machine. Many did not care to
watch it but lay with closed eyes in the sand; they all knew: Now Justice is being done. In the
silence one heard nothing but the condemned man's sighs, half-muffled by the felt gag. Nowadays
the machine can no longer wring from anyone a sigh louder than the felt gag can stifle; but in those
days the writing needles let drop an acid fluid, which we're no longer permitted to use. Well, and
then came the sixth hour! It was impossible to grant all the requests to be allowed to watch it from
nearby. The Commandant in his wisdom ordained that the children should have the preference; I, of
course, because of my office had the privilege of always being at hand; often enough I would be
squatting there with a small child in either arm. How we all absorbed the look of transfiguration on
the face of the sufferer, how we bathed our cheeks in the radiance of that justice, achieved at last and
fading so quickly! What times these were, my comrade!" The officer had obviously forgotten whom
he was addressing; he had embraced the explorer and laid his head on his shoulder. The explorer
was deeply embarrassed, impatiently he stared over the officer's head. The soldier had finished his
cleaning job and was now pouring rice pap from a pot into the basin. As soon as the condemned
man, who seemed to have recovered entirely, noticed this action he began to reach for the rice with
his tongue. The soldier kept pushing him away, since the rice pap was certainly meant for a later
hour, yet it was just as unfitting that the soldier himself should thrust his dirty hands into the basin
and eat out of it before the other's avid face.
The officer quickly pulled himself together. "I didn't want to upset you," he said, "I know it
is impossible to make those days credible now. Anyhow, the machine is still working and it is still
effective in itself. It is effective in itself even though it stands alone in this valley. And the corpse
still falls at the last into the pit with an incomprehensibly gentle wafting motion, even though there
are no hundreds of people swarming around like flies as formerly. In those days we had to put a
strong fence around the pit, it has long since been torn down."
The explorer wanted to withdraw his face from the officer and looked around him at random.
The officer thought he was surveying the valley's desolation; so he seized him by the hands, turned
him around to meet his eyes, and asked: "Do you realize the shame of it?"
But the explorer said nothing. The officer left him alone for a little; with legs apart, hands on
hips, he stood very still, gazing at the ground. Then he smiled encouragingly at the explorer and
said: "I was quite near you yesterday when the Commandant gave you the invitation. I heard him
giving it. I know the Commandant. I divined at once what he was after. Although he is powerful
enough to take measures against me, he doesn't dare to do it yet, but he certainly means to use your
verdict against me, the verdict of an illustrious foreigner. He has calculated it carefully: this is your
second day on the island, you did not know the old Commandant and his ways, you are conditioned
by European ways of thought, perhaps you object on principle to capital punishment in general and
to such mechanical instruments of death in particular, besides you will see that the execution has no
support from the public, a shabby ceremony -- carried out with a machine already somewhat old and
worn-now, taking all that into consideration, would it not be likely (so thinks the Commandant) that
you might disapprove of my methods? And if you disapprove, you wouldn't conceal the fact (I'm
still speaking from the Commandant's point of view), for you are a man to feel confidence in your
own well-tried conclusions. True, you have seen and learned to appreciate the peculiarities of many
peoples, and so you would not be likely to take a strong line against our proceedings, as you might
do in your own country. But the Commandant has no need of that. A casual, even an unguarded
remark will be enough. It doesn't even need to represent what you really think, so long as it can be
used speciously to serve his purpose. He will try to prompt you with sly questions, of that I am
certain. And his ladies will sit around you and prick up their ears; you might be saying something
like this: 'In our country we have a different criminal procedure,' or 'In our country the prisoner is
interrogated before he is sentenced,' or 'We haven't used torture since the Middle Ages.' All these
statements are as true as they seem natural to you, harmless remarks that pass no judgment on my
methods. But how would the Commandant react to them? I can see him, our good Commandant,
pushing his chair away immediately and rushing onto the balcony, I can see his ladies streaming out
after him, I can hear his voice -- the ladies call it a voice of thunder -- well, and this is what he says:
'A famous Western investigator, sent out to study criminal procedure in all the countries of the
world, has just said that our old tradition of administering justice is inhumane. Such a verdict from
such a personality makes it impossible for me to countenance these methods any longer. Therefore
from this very day I ordain. . .' and so on. You may want to interpose that you never said any such
thing, that you never called my methods inhumane, on the contrary your profound experience leads
you to believe they are most humane and most in consonance with human dignity, and you admire
the machine greatly -- but it will be too late; you won't even get onto the balcony, crowded as it will
be with ladies; you may try to draw attention to yourself; you may want to scream out; but a lady's
hand will close your lips -- and I and the work of the old Commandant will be done for."
The explorer had to suppress a smile; so easy, then, was the task he had felt to be so difficult.
He said evasively: "You overestimate my influence; the Commandant has read my letters of
recommendation, he knows that I am no expert in criminal procedure. If I were to give an opinion, it
would be as a private individual, an opinion no more influential than that of any ordinary person,
and in any case much less influential than that of the Commandant, who, I am given to understand,
has very extensive powers in this penal colony. If his attitude to your procedure is as definitely
hostile as you believe, then I fear the end of your tradition is at hand, even without any humble
assistance from me."
Had it dawned on the officer at last? No, he still did not understand. He shook his head
emphatically, glanced briefly around at the condemned man and the soldier, who both flinched away
from the rice, came close up to the explorer, and without looking at his face but fixing his eye on
some spot on his coat said in a lower voice than before: "You don't know the Commandant; you feel
yourself -- forgive the expression -- a kind of outsider so far as all of us are concerned; yet, believe
me, your influence cannot be rated too highly. I was simply delighted when I heard that you were to
attend the execution all by yourself. The Commandant arranged it to aim a blow at me, but I shall
turn it to my advantage. Without being distracted by lying whispers and contemptuous glances --
which could not have been avoided had a crowd of people attended the execution -- you have heard
my explanations, seen the machine, and are now in course of watching the execution. You have
doubtless already formed your own judgment; if you still have some small uncertainties the sight of
the execution will resolve them. And now I make this request to you: help me against the
Commandant!"
The explorer would not let him go on. "How could I do that," he cried, "it's quite impossible.
I can neither help nor hinder you."
"Yes, you can," the officer said. The explorer saw with a certain apprehension that the officer
had clenched his fists. "Yes, you can," repeated the officer, still more insistently. "I have a plan that
is bound to succeed. You believe your influence is insufficient. I know that it is sufficient. But even
granted that you are right, is it not necessary, for the sake of preserving this tradition, to try even
what might prove insufficient? Listen to my plan, then. The first thing necessary for you to carry it
out is to be as reticent as possible today regarding your verdict on these proceedings. Unless you are
asked a direct question you must say nothing at all; but what you do say must be brief and general;
let it be remarked that you would prefer not to discuss the matter, that you are out of patience with
it, that if you are to let yourself go you would use strong language. I don't ask you to tell any lies; by
no means; you should only give curt answers, such as: 'Yes, I saw the execution,' or 'Yes, I had it
explained to me.' Just that, nothing more. There are grounds enough for any impatience you betray,
although not such as will occur to the Commandant. Of course, he will mistake your meaning and
interpret it to please himself. That's what my plan depends on. Tomorrow in the Commandant's
office there is to be a large conference of all the high administrative officials, the Commandant
presiding. Of course the Commandant is the kind of man to have turned these conferences into
public spectacles. He has had a gallery built that is always packed with spectators. I am compelled to
take part in the conferences, but they make me sick with disgust. Now, whatever happens, you will
certainly be invited to this conference; if you behave today as I suggest, the invitation will become
an urgent request. But if for some mysterious reason you're not invited, you'll have to ask for an
invitation; there's no doubt of your getting it then. So tomorrow you're sitting in the Commandant's
box with the ladies. He keeps looking up to make sure you're there. After various trivial and
ridiculous matters, brought in merely to impress the audience -- mostly harbor works, nothing but
harbor works! -- our judicial procedure comes up for discussion too. If the Commandant doesn't
introduce it, or not soon enough, I'll see that it's mentioned. I'll stand up and report that today's
execution has taken place. Quite briefly, only a statement. Such a statement is not usual, but I shall
make it. The Commandant thanks me, as always, with an amiable smile, and then he can't restrain
himself, he seizes the excellent opportunity. 'It has just been reported,' he will say, or words to that
effect, 'that an execution has taken place. I should like merely to add that this execution was
witnessed by the famous explorer who has, as you all know, honored our colony so greatly by his
visit to us. His presence at today's session of our conference also contributes to the importance of
this occasion. Should we not now ask the famous explorer to give us his verdict on our traditional
mode of execution and the procedure that leads up to it?' Of course there is loud applause, general
agreement, I am more insistent than anyone. The Commandant bows to you and says: 'Then in the
name of the assembled company, I put the question to you.' And now you advance to the front of the
box. Lay your hands where everyone can see them, or the ladies will catch them and press your
fingers. -- And then at last you can speak out. I don't know how I'm going to endure the tension of
waiting for that moment. Don't put any restraint on yourself when you make your speech, publish
the truth aloud, lean over the front of the box, shout, yes indeed, shout your verdict, your unshakable
conviction, at the Commandant. Yet perhaps you wouldn't care to do that, it's not in keeping with
your character, in your country perhaps people do these things differently, well, that's all right too,
that will be quite as effective, don't even stand up, just say a few words, even in a whisper, so that
only the officials beneath you will hear them, that will be quite enough, you don't even need to
mention the lack of public support for the execution, the creaking wheel, the broken strap, the filthy
gag of felt, no, I'll take all that upon me, and, believe me, if my indictment doesn't drive him out of
the conference hall, it will force him to his knees to make the acknowledgment: Old Commandant, I
humble myself before you. -- That is my plan; will you help me to carry it out? But of course you
are willing, what is more, you must." And the officer seized the explorer by both arms and gazed,
breathing heavily, into his face. He had shouted the last sentence so loudly that even the soldier and
the condemned man were startled into attending; they had not understood a word but they stopped
eating and looked over at the explorer, chewing their previous mouthfuls.
From the very beginning the explorer had no doubt about what answer he must give; in his
lifetime he had experienced too much to have any uncertainty here; he was fundamentally honorable
and unafraid. And yet now, facing the soldier and the condemned man, he did hesitate, for as long as
it took to draw one breath. At last, however, he said, as he had to: "No." The officer blinked several
times but did not turn his eyes away. "Would you like me to explain?" asked the explorer. The
officer nodded wordlessly. "I do not approve of your procedure," said the explorer then, "even
before you took me into your confidence -- of course I shall never in any circumstances betray your
confidence -- I was already wondering whether it would be my duty to intervene and whether my
intervention would have the slightest chance of success. I realized to whom I ought to turn: to the
Commandant, of course. You have made that fact even clearer, but without having strengthened my
resolution, on the contrary, your sincere conviction has touched me, even though it cannot influence
my judgment."
The officer remained mute, turned to the machine, caught hold of a brass rod, and then,
leaning back a little, gazed at the Designer as if to assure himself that all was in order. The soldier
and the condemned man seemed to have come to some understanding; the condemned man was
making signs to the soldier, difficult though his movements were because of the tight straps; the
soldier was bending down to him; the condemned man whispered something and the soldier nodded.
The explorer followed the officer and said: "You don't know yet what I mean to do. I shall
tell the Commandant what I think of the procedure, certainly, but not at a public conference, only in
private; nor shall I stay here long enough to attend any conference; I am going away early tomorrow
morning, or at least embarking on my ship."
It did not look as if the officer had been listening. "So you did not find the procedure
convincing," he said to himself and smiled, as an old man smiles at childish nonsense and yet
pursues his own meditations behind the smile.
"Then the time has come," he said at last, and suddenly looked at the explorer with bright
eyes that held some challenge, some appeal for cooperation. "The time for what?" asked the explorer
uneasily, but got no answer.
"You are free," said the officer to the condemned man in the native tongue. The man did not
believe it at first. "Yes, you are set free," said the officer. For the first time the condemned man's
face woke to real animation. Was it true? Was it only a caprice of the officer's, that might change
again? Had the foreign explorer begged him off? What was it? One could read these questions on his
face. But not for long. Whatever it might be, he wanted to be really free if he might, and he began to
struggle so far as the Harrow permitted him.
"You'll burst my straps," cried the officer, "lie still! We'll soon loosen them." And signing
the soldier to help him, he set about doing so. The condemned man laughed wordlessly to himself,
now he turned his face left toward the officer, now right toward the soldier, nor did he forget the
explorer.
"Draw him out," ordered the officer. Because of the Harrow this had to be done with some
care. The condemned man had already torn himself a little in the back through his impatience.
From now on, however, the officer paid hardly any attention to him. He went up to the
explorer, pulled out the small leather wallet again, turned over the papers in it, found the one he
wanted, and showed it to the explorer. "Read it," he said. "I can't," said the explorer, "I told you
before that I can't make out these scripts." "Try taking a close look at it," said the officer and came
quite near to the explorer so that they might read it together. But when even that proved useless, he
outlined the script with his little finger, holding it high above the paper as if the surface dared not be
sullied by touch, in order to help the explorer to follow the script in that way. The explorer did make
an effort, meaning to please the officer in this respect at least, but he was quite unable to follow.
Now the officer began to spell it, letter by letter, and then read out the words. " 'BE JUST!' is what is
written there," he said, "surely you can read it now." The explorer bent so close to the paper that the
officer feared he might touch it and drew it farther away; the explorer made no remark, yet it was
clear that he still could not decipher it. " 'BE JUST!' is what is written there," said the officer once
more. "Maybe," said the explorer, "I am prepared to believe you." "Well, then," said the officer, at
least partly satisfied, and climbed up the ladder with the paper; very carefully he laid it inside the
Designer and seemed to be changing the disposition of all the cogwheels; it was a troublesome piece
of work and must have involved wheels that were extremely small, for sometimes the officer's head
vanished altogether from sight inside the Designer, so precisely did he have to regulate the
machinery.
The explorer, down below, watched the labor uninterruptedly, his neck grew stiff and his
eyes smarted from the glare of sunshine over the sky. The soldier and the condemned man were now
busy together. The man's shirt and trousers, which were already lying in the pit, were fished out by
the point of the soldier's bayonet. The shirt was abominably dirty and its owner washed it in the
bucket of water. When he put on the shirt and trousers both he and the soldier could not help
guffawing, for the garments were of course slit up behind. Perhaps the condemned man felt it
incumbent on him to amuse the soldier, he turned around and around in his slashed garments before
the soldier, who squatted on the ground beating his knees with mirth. All the same, they presently
controlled their mirth out of respect for the gentlemen.
When the officer had at length finished his task aloft, he surveyed the machinery in all its
details once more, with a smile, but this time shut the lid of the Designer, which had stayed open till
now, climbed down, looked into the pit and then at the condemned man, noting with satisfaction that
the clothing had been taken out, then went over to wash his hands in the water bucket, perceived too
late that it was disgustingly dirty, was unhappy because he could not wash his hands, in the end
thrust them into the sand -- this alternative did not please him, but he had to put up with it -- then
stood upright and began to unbutton his uniform jacket. As he did this, the two ladies' handkerchiefs
he had tucked under his collar fell into his hands. "Here are your handkerchiefs," he said, and threw
them to the condemned man. And to the explorer he said in explanation: "A gift from the ladies."
In spite of the obvious haste with which he was discarding first his uniform jacket and then
all his clothing, he handled each garment with loving care, he even ran his fingers caressingly over
the silver lace on the jacket and shook a tassel into place. This loving care was certainly out of
keeping with the fact that as soon as he had a garment off he flung it at once with a kind of
unwilling jerk into the pit. The last thing left to him was his short sword with the sword belt. He
drew it out of the scabbard, broke it, then gathered all together, the bits of the sword, the scabbard,
and the belt, and flung them so violently down that they clattered into the pit.
Now he stood naked there. The explorer bit his lips and said nothing. He knew very well
what was going to happen, but he had no right to obstruct the officer in anything. If the judicial
procedure which the officer cherished were really so near its end -- possibly as a result of his own
intervention, as to which he felt himself pledged -- then the officer was doing the right thing; in his
place the explorer would not have acted otherwise.
The soldier and the condemned man did not understand at first what was happening, at first
they were not even looking on. The condemned man was gleeful at having got the handkerchiefs
back, but he was not allowed to enjoy them for long, since the soldier snatched them with a sudden,
unexpected grab. Now the condemned man in turn was trying to twitch them from under the belt
where the soldier had tucked them, but the soldier was on his guard. So they were wrestling, half in
jest. Only when the officer stood quite naked was their attention caught. The condemned man
especially seemed struck with the notion that some great change was impending. What had
happened to him was now going to happen to the officer. Perhaps even to the very end. Apparently
the foreign explorer had given the order for it. So this was revenge. Although he himself had not
suffered to the end, he was to be revenged to the end. A broad, silent grin now appeared on his face
and stayed there all the rest of the time.
The officer, however, had turned to the machine. It had been clear enough previously that he
understood the machine well, but now it was almost staggering to see how he managed it and how it
obeyed him. His hand had only to approach the Harrow for it to rise and sink several times till it was
adjusted to the right position for receiving him; he touched only the edge of the Bed and already it
was vibrating; the felt gag came to meet his mouth, one could see that the officer was really
reluctant to take it but he shrank from it only a moment, soon he submitted and received it.
Everything was ready, only the straps hung down at the sides, yet they were obviously unnecessary,
the officer did not need to be fastened down. Then the condemned man noticed the loose straps, in
his opinion the execution was incomplete unless the straps were buckled, he gestured eagerly to the
soldier and they ran together to strap the officer down. The latter had already stretched out one foot
to push the lever that started the Designer; he saw the two men coming up; so he drew his foot back
and let himself be buckled in. But now he could not reach the lever; neither the soldier nor the
condemned man would be able to find it, and the explorer was determined not to lift a finger. It was
not necessary; as soon as the straps were fastened the machine began to work; the Bed vibrated, the
needles flickered above the skin, the Harrow rose and fell. The explorer had been staring at it quite a
while before he remembered that a wheel in the Designer should have been creaking; but everything
was quiet, not even the slightest hum could be heard.
Because it was working so silently the machine simply escaped one's attention. The explorer
observed the soldier and the condemned man. The latter was the more animated of the two,
everything in the machine interested him, now he was bending down and now stretching up on
tiptoe, his forefinger was extended all the time pointing out details to the soldier. This annoyed the
explorer. He was resolved to stay till the end, but he could not bear the sight of these two. "Go back
home," he said. The soldier would have been willing enough, but the condemned man took the order
as a punishment. With clasped hands he implored to be allowed to stay, and when the explorer
shook his head and would not relent, he even went down on his knees. The explorer saw that it was
no use merely giving orders, he was on the point of going over and driving them away. At that
moment he heard a noise above him in the Designer. He looked up. Was that cogwheel going to
make trouble after all? But it was something quite different. Slowly the lid of the Designer rose up
and then clicked wide open. The teeth of a cogwheel showed themselves and rose higher, soon the
whole wheel was visible, it was as if some enormous force were squeezing the Designer so that
there was no longer room for the wheel, the wheel moved up till it came to the very edge of the
Designer, fell down, rolled along the sand a little on its rim, and then lay flat. But a second wheel
was already rising after it, followed by many others, large and small and indistinguishably minute,
the same thing happened to all of them, at every moment one imagined the Designer must now
really be empty, but another complex of numerous wheels was already rising into sight, falling
down, trundling along the sand, and lying flat. This phenomenon made the condemned man
completely forget the explorer's command, the cogwheels fascinated him, he was always trying to
catch one and at the same time urging the soldier to help, but always drew back his hand in alarm,
for another wheel always came hopping along which, at least on its first advance, scared him off.
The explorer, on the other hand, felt greatly troubled; the machine was obviously going to
pieces; its silent working was a delusion; he had a feeling that he must now stand by the officer,
since the officer was no longer able to look after himself. But while the tumbling cogwheels
absorbed his whole attention he had forgotten to keep an eye on the rest of the machine; now that the
last cogwheel had left the Designer, however, he bent over the Harrow and had a new and still more
unpleasant surprise. The Harrow was not writing, it was only jabbing, and the Bed was not turning
the body over but only bringing it up quivering against the needles. The explorer wanted to do
something, if possible, to bring the whole machine to a standstill, for this was no exquisite torture
such as the officer desired, this was plain murder. He stretched out his hands. But at that moment the
Harrow rose with the body spitted on it and moved to the side, as it usually did only when the
twelfth hour had come. Blood was flowing in a hundred streams, not mingled with water, the water
jets too had failed to function. And now the last action failed to fulfill itself, the body did not drop
off the long needles, streaming with blood it went on hanging over the pit without falling into it. The
Harrow tried to move back to its old position, but as if it had itself noticed that it had not yet got rid
of its burden it stuck after all where it was, over the pit. "Come and help!" cried the explorer to the
other two, and himself seized the officer's feet. He wanted to push against the feet while the others
seized the head from the opposite side and so the officer might be slowly eased off the needles. But
the other two could not make up their minds to come; the condemned man actually turned away; the
explorer had to go over to them and force them into position at the officer's head. And here, almost
against his will, he had to look at the face of the corpse. It was as it had been in life; no sign was
visible of the promised redemption; what the others had found in the machine the officer had not
found; the lips were firmly pressed together, the eyes were open, with the same expression as in life,
the look was calm and convinced, through the forehead went the point of the great iron spike.
As the explorer, with the soldier and the condemned man behind him, reached the first
houses of the colony, the soldier pointed to one of them and said: "There is the teahouse."
In the ground floor of the house was a deep, low, cavernous space, its walls and ceiling
blackened with smoke. It was open to the road all along its length. Although this teahouse was very
little different from the other houses of the colony, which were all very dilapidated, even up to the
Commandant's palatial headquarters, it made on the explorer the impression of a historic tradition of
some kind, and he felt the power of past days. He went near to it, followed by his companions, right
up between the empty tables that stood in the street before it, and breathed the cool, heavy air that
came from the interior. "The old man's buried here," said the soldier, "the priest wouldn't let him lie
in the churchyard. Nobody knew where to bury him for a while, but in the end they buried him here.
The officer never told you about that, for sure, because of course that's what he was most ashamed
of. He even tried several times to dig the old man up by night, but he was always chased away."
"Where is the grave?" asked the explorer, who found it impossible to believe the soldier. At once
both of them, the soldier and the condemned man, ran before him pointing with outstretched hands
in the direction where the grave should be. They led the explorer right up to the back wall, where
guests were sitting at a few tables. They were apparently dock laborers, strong men with short,
glistening, full black beards. None had a jacket, their shirts were torn, they were poor, humble
creatures. As the explorer drew near, some of them got up, pressed close to the wall, and stared at
him. "It's a foreigner," ran the whisper around him, "he wants to see the grave." They pushed one of
the tables aside, and under it there was really a gravestone. It was a simple stone, low enough to be
covered by a table. There was an inscription on it in very small letters, the explorer had to kneel
down to read it. This was what it said: "Here rests the old Commandant. His adherents, who now
must be nameless, have dug this grave and set up this stone. There is a prophecy that after a certain
number of years the Commandant will rise again and lead his adherents from this house to recover
the colony. Have faith and wait!" When the explorer had read this and risen to his feet he saw all the
bystanders around him smiling, as if they too had read the inscription, had found it ridiculous, and
were expecting him to agree with them. The explorer ignored this, distributed a few coins among
them, waiting till the table was pushed over the grave again, quitted the teahouse, and made for the
harbor.
The soldier and the condemned man had found some acquaintances in the teahouse, who
detained them. But they must have soon shaken them off, for the explorer was only halfway down
the long flight of steps leading to the boats when they came rushing after him. Probably they wanted
to force him at the last minute to take them with him. While he was bargaining below with a
ferryman to row him to the steamer, the two of them came headlong down the steps, in silence, for
they did not dare to shout. But by the time they reached the foot of the steps the explorer was
already in the boat, and the ferryman was just casting off from the shore. They could have jumped
into the boat, but the explorer lifted a heavy knotted rope from the floor boards, threatened them
with it, and so kept them from attempting the leap.


Franz Kafka, Translated by Willa and Edwin Muir

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