Whenever a person crosses a bridge, they don’t simply move from one shore to another. Sometimes they arrive at a city, sometimes at a moment in time, and sometimes at the turning points of their own life.
In Bratislava—the capital of Slovakia and the symbolic threshold where history and future intertwine—rises the SNP Bridge over the Danube, a structure resembling a spaceship stretching into the future. This bridge is not just concrete and steel; it hides behind it the story of an era, an ideology, and most importantly, a tragic human fate. The futuristic structure soaring into the sky once symbolized communist ideals, but today it has become an emblem of the capitalist world. Yet beneath this mass of metal and concrete lies a tragic legend: a man who fell to his death.
According to legend, during the construction of the UFO Observation Deck atop the bridge, a young worker lost his life. That story is like the bleeding conscience of the structure. Human history is always the story of striving for higher, for more. That desire always demands a price. The worker paid it with his life. Today, his labor lingers in the meals served at the luxury restaurant perched above. What was once a symbol of revolution has now become a monument to the greed for profit—just as in the modern world, labor and life are transformed into commodities.
In another corner of Bratislava stands a bronze statue emerging from a manhole: Cumil. A bronze worker peeking out from the sewer cover. He makes one smile, yet saddens at the same time. For he is truly the representative of sewage, darkness, and invisible labor. He is the silent hero of the underground world—grappling with filth, unseen, unacknowledged. While tourists stroll the streets gazing at the city’s glittering face, he remains as a symbol of the dirty and harsh life beneath their feet. Ironically, although he is one of the city’s most photographed statues, the labor and struggle he represents are still ignored. He is not just a statue, but a reflection of all the difficult jobs society chooses to overlook.
These two examples transcend being mere stories of Bratislava. They are symbols of universal pain and injustice. Whether atop a bridge or beneath the ground in a sewer, labor is always the most fragile. In a world where everyone wants more, where everything must be built faster, human life is seen as just another cost item. As a structure rises, no one asks how many lives it consumed. Attention is given only to the result, the majestic sight.
Thus, these stories are not just the memory of a city but also the greatest tragedy of our age. For as long as the shining silhouettes of modern cities, their luxury restaurants, and dazzling tourist icons are built without questioning the value of human labor and life, they can only serve as veils covering crimes. As long as the rise of each bridge equals the silent fall of a life, our conscience must cry out against this bitter truth: Yes, you can’t do this!
Dr. Öğr. Üyesi Emrah TÜNCER
