On Bosnian Catholics' Faith in God and Brandy

More info and links via my Swedish text translation

On June 21, 1869, Trappist monk Franz (Francis) Pfanner and a few fellow monks arrived in Ottoman Bosnia. This date formally marks the Marija Zvijezda monastery's founding in the Delibašino Selo village near Banja Luka. Over time, the Trappist monastery became known as Trapisti, and the monks became integral to the region's development. Their activities significantly improved the local standard of living. Within the monastery grounds, they established a brickworks, blacksmith's workshop, grain warehouse, stone workshop, mill, cheese factory, woodcutting shop, brewery, plum drying facility, slaughterhouse, fruit and vegetable garden, sewing workshop, printing press, and carpentry workshop. Additionally, the monks built a hospital, orphanage, and houses for their workers. They also provided education for poor children and apprenticeship training.

Later, in 1883, Pfanner left for Transvaal (modern-day South Africa), where he established the Mariawald monastery based on the Trapisti model. He died there in 1909 at the age of 84. The Trappist monastery in Bosnia remains known for its cheese, made from a secret recipe.
In a letter dated March 18, 1873, to his brother Ivan at the Mariawald monastery in Germany (hence the name Mariawald in South Africa), Pfanner described his efforts to persuade local Catholics in the Banja Luka region to abstain from rakija (brandy, usually made from plums, also known as slivovitz).

Dear Brother in Christ Ivan,

I send you this letter via the diplomatic post of Consul Stanislav Dragančić (Austro-Hungarian) from Banja Luka, who, with the help of the Almighty, to whom I pray for your health, will come to Mariawald. It has been almost four years since we Cistercians managed to establish the monastery in Turkey, in June of the Year of Our Lord 1869, after failed attempts to do the same in Austria, Croatia, and Hungary. Frankly, we are an hour's walk north of the city towards the Sava River, but it has its advantages.

The Turks are lazy, so when they decide to deprive us of some of our rights or harm us, we get to know about it in good time. The city I visit only for necessary needs is Turkish, but it also has European elements. Despite the Sultan's permission for Christians to freely buy land here and despite lively trade where the Orthodox Tomo Radulović stands out, we finally managed to buy 57 hectares of land from Radulović after much effort. In the first offer, he demanded as much as three thousand ducats for the land on the right side of the Vrbas River (with 400 oaks and 400 plum trees). Brother Ivan, you know my perseverance. We wrestled until midnight with the consul's help. After that, Mr. Tomo lowered the price; may the Almighty bring him every grace to 1400 ducats.

I must mention that I marked all the tree trunks on the purchased land with my sign under the supervision of the consul and the local Catholic serfs Ilija, Nikola Bilić, and Mijat Janić. Only God knows what we went through to establish the monastery on the desolate meadow! And yet, after the people in the area gave up against us (Muslims, Orthodox, Catholics, may God forgive them), after our long practice according to the motto Ora et labora! (Work and pray), with abstinence from food and our daily silence, we have gained respect, thanks be to God, not only among the simple serfs (regardless of faith) but also among the formal authorities. They now see us as dervishes, members of a Muslim sect that enjoys high esteem. We built the monastery but were not allowed to ring the bells.

Last year, in the spring of 1872, there was a long drought here. Not a single drop fell from the sky for several months. According to the order from the Turkish authorities, all religions (Muslims, Christians, and Jews) were bound to pray to the Almighty for rain according to their customs. I saw the opportunity to mention to the pasha in Banja Luka that we Trappists were also willing to pray to God for rain. Still, I must be able to ring the bells.

The Turks believed that we devout dervishes enjoyed a special favor with God. According to the order, they let us ring until the rain came. May God be gracious, it was thanks to our bell that the rain came. The Trappists were the last to join the prayer, so the people and the authorities were convinced that our bells brought rain.

After that, Muslims came to the monastery, bowed before us, and shouted Mašallah. And it is a sign of admiration and means When God wills in Turkish. After that, we rang for a long time, which did not bother them. And now, Brother Ivan, I will explain the plums to you.

When I arrived in this region in the spring of 1869, I noticed something I had never seen before. Here, everyone drinks. Drinking here is a weak term for the enjoyment of rakija. It is the daily drinking of this devilish elixir. The Turks drink, the serfs drink, and Catholics and Orthodox drink equally. I have even seen the clergy (from all three religions – may God forgive them) who do not refrain from drinking. Because of rakija, everyone's faces are colored like earth, the eyes are barely visible, and it is almost impossible to meet a person who can walk straight without swaying. Except for the lords (beg) because they do not walk but ride. The day laborers (nadničari) work 1-2 hours before they end up in the ditch they are digging. Or they lose consciousness from rakija after crashing into the trees they were supposed to cut down.

It is a huge problem because plums are primarily grown to produce rakija. Suppose they could at least do what is done in the world. Here, they are capable of getting 20 kg of this poison from 10 kg of fruit, which no living person in the world would want to taste. And they drink this instead of water, claiming that water causes kidney pain, gout, and teeth fall out.

After seeing this devastation, I decided to teach these poor souls that plums can be dried so that they can make nutritious and strengthening compote from them in winter. The Trappists have been drying fruit for a long time and have allowed the farmers to taste the dried fruits. And they were surprised. I built a drying facility with the brothers last year to reduce their number of plums. After that, I offered a good price to the farmers, bought their fruit, filled the drying facility, and before last Christmas, distributed the dried fruit for free to people experiencing poverty and serfs regardless of their religion. I thought they would open their eyes to the plums because they got rid of them, took the money, and later received them as dried. I also expected that they would start drying fruit this year as I spread the message that I would buy all the surplus.

No one was happier than me when I realized last October and November that the plums were distilled only for two or three months in the entire region because these poor people sold almost the entire harvest to our drying facility. Then the new year came, and January. The snow-covered almost the entire region, making it difficult to reach the monastery. And then my expectations were shattered, and it would have been better if, may the Highest forgive them, the entire region had been covered with deep snow. I blasphemed, and now I continue with the pen to shorten the story. One day, a large entourage came to the monastery with gifts for us. Some with milk, some with goats, some with sheep, with large baked bread, and all singing (better said, howling like wolves), and my dear brother in Christ Ivan – All were so drunk that they could not be more drunk.

I clasped my hands to turn to the Highest, but the eldest among the drunk tried to kiss my hand but fell into the snow. I bent down to lift him, but he just lay in the snow and began to say weakly:

May God bless Father Vranjo and all the fathers, this monastery, and all the Trappists wherever they are and however many they are. Before your holy fathers came here, we used to make rakija in the fall, drink it after Christmas, and then spend the whole winter with a dry throat longing for it. The heavens opened for us when you enlightened us that plums can be dried. May God give you health and happiness because now, in the middle of winter, we can make rakija from dried plums. And Father, these are better than the raw ones from the fall. Ilija, give our gracious and enlightening Father Vranjo the bottle to partake in this sacrament and blessed martyr brew made from dried plums.

Brother Ivan, I clenched my teeth hard not to swear! I ran away from the godless, who may God forgive them, capable of making brandy from dried fruit. I spent the whole day and night in prayer and submission, without a crumb of bread or a drop of water, and whipped myself bloody with the lash. The brothers prayed with me, and some could not help but shed tears when they saw how I beat my sinful body. The Highest is my witness that I could not even dream of my good-hearted thought giving birth to such blasphemy!

Finally, the only thing I could do was spread the message that I did not allow anyone drinking to enter the monastery. The drunk would not be blessed, confessed, or even allowed into the church. And then our suffering began!

We held masses on Sundays in an almost empty church. As for the Eucharist, I won't even mention it. We administered the last rites to the dying in their homes, where we could not influence family members who couldn't imagine birth, baptism, or death without rakija. As a consolation, the situation began to improve from the end of February. The church is almost full on Sundays. They pray loudly, filled with remorse, they confess and take the Eucharist, and then impatiently run outside the monastery to the fields and start drinking there. Both men and women, without distinction, drink until sunset (if there is a sun).

I would rather flee to Africa for mission work. Still, I have yet to fulfill the promise that this monastery will lead the way to industrial rebirth and general, state, and cultural progress for this part of Turkey. The Highest, with our prayers, will ensure it is not like this forever. May this letter bless you and find you in good health, Brother in Christ Ivan. Pray for us here, in the twilight corner of the Balkans. Pray that the Highest will help us in Faith, Hope, and Love so that we may endure on this holy path!

Also, pray for these unfortunate souls who, besides God, also believe in rakija.

Your brother in Christ,
Franjo