Where do I start from? I have to pick up…
I left in a hurry to meet my guest who had just arrived from Holland, as I was getting ready to comment on Karadzic spirit floating over Belgrade… She called from her mobile, left her laguage at my doorstep…
Young as she is, she knows how to love me, eventhough I get late in situations like this. She accepts my time always being too short, finds joy in, or brings joy to my working hours that are all hours, stays with me while I work, sometimes, just so that we are close. Rushing to warmly hug her and host her, I still had the image of that train leaving, taking away my previous guest – the image that tastes like a boan in my throat, until we meet again.
The one on that train was all excited about the arrest, just like myself. We spoke on the phone about it. On the phone, and just the other day she was here… The circulation of regular guests in my small attick gets buisy in this time of the year. I love it. I don’t like to see them go away. I must have lonely times, I guess. But who is to notice, when life is going on? I already thought he got away for good, when the news broke out! But hear me, I am not doing this to report on the arrest and the events that follow. I live here and sniff around the remains of it all. That is my interest, because I remain here too. So, sniffing around, many things seamed so normal to me. Only here and there a group would protest, and special police forces would just stand arround, modeling, one could think.
They didn’t want to be on the photos either. Eventually one of them told me that what I was doing was not good. I asked what he was refering to as my doing, since I was doing a lot at the same moment. Turned out I was a total waste, in his opinion. Yeas, weather was groomy. But is it my fault that policemen belong to the side doing the job they got to hate: arresting the warcriminal whom many among them consider a hero, making sure that their political alies (maybe family members?) do not burn up the city, in protest to capture of Karadzic? Last time Belgrade was under the attack of the “peacefull demonstrators” (February 21st, over the Kosova independance), police did a lousy job – they did not prevent the destruction. This time, the same electoral body among the citizens hasn’t reached out for such radical measures. It was clear: February street event was entirely state designed. The recent one/ones seam to be random. The state thinks planely: we did it (the arrest), we cannot sponsor such a spectacle again, it is not the same. What a confused brain of an imbecil state, one may think… But the way I see it, imbecil or not, Serbian state is doing its best to pursue the path of “pride and glory”, of wariors, of Milosevic, of Kostunica and Karadzic, in both cases. Destroying its own Capital while targeting on presence of West (EU and USA) is a twisted act, but remarkable sign of hostility towards the idea of facing the past, present and future. Keeping the preasure down arround the event of Karadzic’s arrest is the same denial: we did it, but let’s keep it quiet. Just a lament, here and there, to use the occasion and blame it all on the blackmail of the International community, and the traitors among us. That is what Kostunica allows: one tear, small groups, proud speaches, normal life. He did it – he did not do it, he never would. Gotta follow the path of self-victimizing glorious nation of wariors, hurrased by dirty, globalizing forces, that impose some stupid Tribunal on holy Serbia. /neither the Tribunal is stupid, nor Serbia holy – the word is that NOTHING IS ALLOWED TO CHANGE IN MINDS OF CITIZENS! If something clicks in one’s mind, he/she becomes a traitor. The calm on the streets speaks: it didn’t happen. Karadzic will forever be in our harts. Deny, deny, deny – streets deny that the state betrayed the path. That is the only safe way to preserve the percentage of voters for nationalist cause. Like it was the safest way to show hatrage and violence to the West which recognized the independant Kosova. State runs the streets these days, and to its own taste. These random looking gatherings are again designed by the same state that practically ordered the disorder months ago. That’s why policemen have been modeling: state hides the fact that it runs the street events. State pretends it expects something it didn’t organize. And it doesn’t happen, sure.
My concern is at my place, litterarely, while I am out writing these lines… My young Dutch guest doesn’t understand how I can be in favour of Kosovo independance. Please, anyone whou might read this, do not let ypurselves be fed the metaphoric story Serbs have been spreading… the one in which a house, your house, represents the state… then the story goes: so imagine, some day, I come in, and I move in to stay. And a little after that, I expell you and proclaim it mine. Now, would you allow that? – I heard it so many times! And yesterday again, from my dearest guest, whom I care so much about. Clearely, she refers to herself as an Albanian, who came to live in Serbia, Kosova, and then her grand children expelled mine, or something, from my own land. First, it is the myth that Kosovars are only recent immigrants from Albania. Second, even if they were, they were also citizens of Serbia, Kosova. So the house was never mine, never only my property. And the most important of all, as third, why doesn’t the metaphore explain how I acted in that house? Why doesn’t it say that I was provided with heavy weapons to use on her? That for a long time, I had treated her as less human then myself, until I eventually started butchering around, on her! Now, wouldn’t the metaphoric story end with me closed in an institution as danger to other humans? Wouldn’t I be denied the competence to handle any real estate? Logically, the house would stay in use, for others living in it – for her.
I made a compareson of two political events, more precisely their consequences in the streets of Belgrade, because I had no blog in February and also because I wish to denounce how sly the political establishment in Serbia is. I wouldn’t want the process to end before it ever started in Serbia, and I mean the proccess of dealing with the past. People here do not recognize the difference between guilt and responsability. That is why we do not have a civic society: nobody wants to be responsable as a citizen, when it is easier to angrily deny the guilt.
I am so often sleepless, since 1991. I will go back home now, to my dear friend, who sleeps like an angel, to wake her up, and see her to the bus. She is going to the Adriatic sea, and will come back to me soon. Just for a while. Enough to discuss that metaphore again, I hope.
Photos by: Jelena Markovic