Leaving Bosnia in
November, I flew to Skopje, Macedonia. I spent some days there
visiting friends and catching up, and then went to Kosovo for
another few days. This report is about those visits, and about
things I heard and saw in those places. I had not been to
Macedonia or Kosovo for six years.
Some of the names in this report have been changed to protect
people’s privacy.
MACEDONIA
I arrived at Alexander the Great International Airport on a
Tuesday evening. As I was getting off the plane I immediately
received a voice-mail message in my cell phone that said,
“Welcome to Macedonia, the cradle of civilization.”
The population of Macedonia is around a couple million, with
approximately one fourth of that number being Albanian, and most
of the rest Christian Slavs. There have long been tensions
between the two ethnic populations, with some flare-ups in the
past dozen-odd years. Driving home from the airport with my old
friend Gzim, I immediately asked if things were peaceful in
Macedonia. He said, “Yes, they are, for now.”
That “for now” is significant, because during the year 2012
there were sporadic incidents of violence between Albanians and
Macedonians. Churches were torched; five Macedonians were killed
in one mysterious incident; Macedonian police shot two Albanians
in another. Nothing like a war is threatened, but neither are
relations friendly. (For more detail on this situation see
Macedonia: Ghost of Ethnic Conflict Returns,
December 28, 2012.
Arriving home, I chatted with Gzim and his wife Drita. They
explained to me that the Macedonian government was currently in
the midst of a grandiose reconstruction project in the capital,
where they were spending hundreds of millions of euros. The term
“facelift” would be an understatement of the extent of this
project, called “Skopje 2014.” In a huge way, they said, the
project was a form of propaganda for the VMRO, the leading
Macedonian nationalist party.
As “transitional” countries go, Macedonia is in a tricky
situation. It is a small and poor country that aspires to join
NATO and the EU. Right next door is Greece, already a member of
those two structures. For reasons that adhere more to populist
politics than to rationality, Greece opposes Macedonia’s
membership. The reason given is that Macedonia chooses to call
itself Macedonia. And because this name is associated with Greek
history going all the way back to the fourth century BCE, the use of the name by “Slavic usurpers from the north” betrays
Macedonia’s “aggressive territorial ambitions upon part of
Greece.”
The historical region of Macedonia covered territory that, after
the breakup of the Ottoman Empire, fell to Greece, Yugoslavia,
and Bulgaria. Yugoslav or Vardar Macedonia became part of
post-World War I Yugoslavia, and during the Tito era became one
of the six republics of Yugoslavia. After the Yugoslav
federation broke up in the early 1990s, the new state named
itself the Republic of Macedonia. In 1993 it was accepted into
the UN as the Former Yugoslav Republic of Macedonia, or FYROM.
Greece, when it is not calling Macedonia “Skopje,” insists upon
this name being used as the country’s official name. I don’t
know of any other country that is primarily referred to by
initials containing a reference to another country that no
longer exists.
Over the past few years, Macedonia’s nationalist government has
promoted an increasingly populist and chauvinist, Slavic
Macedonian atmosphere. To some extent this is a standard
vote-getting strategy for domestic consumption, but it is also
partially a response to Greece’s resistance to the acceptance of
Macedonia into the European political and military
infrastructure.
In the next few days, walking through various parts of Skopje, I
would witness, with some astonishment, what Gzim and Drita were
talking about.
*
The next morning, with eagerness, I walked into the old section
of Skopje, to the northeast of the Vardar River. The Bit Pazar
and the old Čaršija are located there. Coming into the
neighborhood from the east, first I entered the Bit Pazar –
literally, the “flea market.” There’s a covered section where
mainly produce is sold, and then there are stalls purveying all
kinds of other items. In the covered section, just to give a
sample, I saw a vast area selling only red bell peppers. Seeing
so many red bell peppers all together made me happy because it
represented a culinary priority in that culture – so superior,
in that way, to our cuisine.
Likewise, there were huge piles of leeks, cabbages, tomatoes,
and onions. There were large bins displaying various kinds of
rice, and in the next stall, beautiful big red bags of paprika
and cayenne that would take most of us in the US years to
consume. Nearby were great chunks of white cheese, and another
stall with large bins of several different kinds and colors of
olives. One man in a corner stall was selling plastic bags. The
aroma, not really describable here, seemed to beckon anyone who
was interested in preparing to make a typical southern Balkan
meal.
Scene in the Bit Pazar, Skopje
The outside part of the Bit Pazar contained the products that we
know from a department store, but each in its own stall. So you
could buy shoes, razors, radios, bars of soap, packs of
cigarettes, music CDs, t-shirts, hair curlers, fireworks, and so
on and on, each from a different stall in the same area. One
stall, a riot of red and black, sold patriotic Albanian t-shirts
and flags. The Bit Pazar and Čaršija are dominated by Albanians,
and the hundredth anniversary of the establishment of the
Albanian state was approaching.
Whenever I have been in the Bit Pazar I have noticed the music –
Macedonian, Albanian, Serbian, Bulgarian, Greek, and Turkish,
playing in the stalls. I have felt that I am somehow in the
geographic, or at least ethnographic center of the Balkans. I
could see living there for a spell.
From the Bit Pazar I wandered into to the old Čaršija, or
market area, and this feeling was only reinforced. I spoke
Serbo-Croatian with the Albanians and Macedonians. I apologized
to one shopkeeper for not knowing Albanian, only to learn that
he was a local Turk. Many shopkeepers in the neighborhood, young
and old, are prepared to sell things in five or six different
languages, and to switch from one to another on the slightest
hint that might be called for.
The streets were lively, although
there were no tourists. At the very entrance to the Čaršija
there was a man sitting on a stool, getting ready to play the
ҫifteli, a traditional Albanian long-necked, two-stringed
instrument. He was a middle-aged man, serious, wearing a
traditional plis, a white felt cap shaped like half of an
egg. There was a container for coins in front of him and,
nearby, a glass of tea. I made a donation and he allowed me to
photograph him. We talked, he told me that his name was Nevaip.
The Čaršija is arranged of several straight pedestrian streets
paved with smooth-worn stones; as you walk down those streets
you pass an ancient stone mosque here and there, or some other
stone building constructed in the Ottoman period. There is an
entire block of stores selling fancy wedding dresses, and
another street of jewelry stores. One shop catered to women who
covered their hair in a fashionable way. A back street is home
to blacksmiths and metal workers. There, you could buy shovel
heads, axes, pails, and home-made tin woodstoves. A man worked
at a grinder, sharpening a scythe blade, outside his shop.
Jewelry store in the old Čaršija, Skopje
Every block was also home to a couple of casual restaurants
where you could eat stew or grilled meat; there were also tea
and coffee shops where men hung out. If the weather was dry you
could see a couple of older men in black berets sitting at a
table outside.
An oddity in the Balkans: I saw a storefront with the
brightly-colored logo, “LGBT,” and the simple title, “Support
Centre.” You would not see that in Bosnia or Serbia. Other than
this detail, it seems that in the Bit Pazar and the
Čaršija things have not changed,
perhaps, since the 1950s.
There is little development of
infrastructure in Skopje’s Albanian section. Skopje’s ethnic
populations used to be much more mixed, with Albanians and
Macedonians living in the same neighborhoods. But in the last
fifteen-odd years, the two communities have been separating.
Macedonians have been moving south of the Vardar. Albanians have
been buying property in the neighborhoods of Ҫair
and Butel, where Macedonians have moved out, leaving their old
houses. The Albanians tear down those houses and put up new
ones.
There is another Albanian neighborhood nearer to the river and
the center of town, in a more convenient location. It has more
of a run-down aspect, because the municipal government has not
allowed people there to receive permits to build or improve
their property. So everything is worn and decrepit there. “They
want us to leave,” says Gzim.
Now the Albanian and Macedonian students go to separate schools.
They used to go to the same schools, but took separate classes
because of the language.
Gzim tells me that some Albanians in Macedonia are attaching to
a conservative brand of Islam. He says that this is more of a
trend in Macedonia, but not in Albania. He calls adherents to
this conservative religion the “Taliban” of Macedonia, and says
that their numbers are growing. They are sending their girls to
elementary school wearing scarves.
*
I walked to the western end of the
Čaršija and approached the ancient Kameni Most, the stone
bridge over the Vardar. As I arrived, I saw that huge changes
had taken place. First, a statue to Philip II of Macedonia was
under construction, the finishing touches being implemented
behind a rusty corrugated steel barrier. Then, just before the
bridge, on one side of the entrance there was a statue of Saints
Cyril and Methodius, and on the other side, a statue of Saints
Naum and Kliment. These saints are ninth-century Christian
missionaries. The former were Greeks from Thessaloniki, and the
latter two were local Slavs. Philip II, father of Alexander the
Great, lived nearly a millennium before the Slavs arrived in
Macedonia.
Statue of King Phillip II, Skopje
To the left of the bridge, still on the same side of the river
as the Čaršija, was an imposing, baroque-style Museum of
Archeology. To the right of the bridge on the same side of the
river were a couple more new, grand buildings. One housed the
Ministry of the Interior. In front of one of these buildings
there was a monument to Karposh, who mounted a rebellion against
the Ottomans in the 17th century. Defeated, he was
executed on the Kameni Most.
I felt slightly dizzy as I saw the lovely bridge
surrounded by extravagant architecture that rendered the whole
scene nearly unrecognizable.
The Kameni Most (Stone Bridge) over
the Vardar, Skopje, Macedonia. New Archeology museum in
background
I walked across the familiar old bridge, passing a couple of
people selling CDs and cigarettes. I arrived at the grand plaza
on the bigger, newer side of Skopje. I found it dotted with one
statue after another. The Emperor Justinian was there,
establishing (pre-Slavic) Macedonia’s early Byzantine
credentials. Czar Samuel, 11th century conqueror of
most of the Balkans, was there. Statues of the rebels Damjan
Gruev and Goce Delčev cemented
Macedonia’s hajduk, anti-Ottoman history.
Main square of Skopje, dominated by statue of
Alexander the Great
Alexander himself reigned over the plaza on a horse rampant, and
I have not mentioned another dozen-odd statues. I wouldn’t be
surprised if Washington, DC had fewer statues than this 2500
square meter plaza and an adjacent park. A replica of the Arc
de Triomphe stood off to the side, looking like an afterthought.
Altogether, the ensemble of statues reminded me of an antique
store filled with kitsch.
Replica of the Arc de Triomphe, just
off the main square, Skopje
Compounding the tackiness of the scene, a large, permanent
digital advertisement screen, which must have been some thirty
feet long and twenty feet high, was mounted to one of the
buildings. It prominently advertised local travel agencies and
high-tech outlets.
Albanians, at least one quarter of
Macedonia’s population, don’t exist in this idealized portrayal
of Macedonian history and society. The only Albanian represented
there was Mother Teresa, but her ethnicity was not mentioned.
In the glorious pantheon of Macedonian history, stretching twice
the length of the Slavic presence on this territory, the
timeline apparently ends right around 1940. The only mention of
the Partisan era was to insinuate that Tito’s regime was an
oppressor of the identity of the Macedonians. Other than that,
the Tito era never happened. And the VMRO, Macedonia’s
reconstituted, ruling nationalist party, is glorified as
practically the founder of the nation.
A block away from this main commercial square stood a large park
with more statues: the anti-Ottoman rebel Pitu Guli, the
Ukrainian poet Taras Shevchenko, and an expansive monument to
the VMRO, the resurrected Internal Macedonian Revolutionary
Organization. This party, dominating Macedonian politics today,
named itself after the anti-Ottoman rebel movement that was
founded in the late 19th century.
This leading political clique of Slavic Macedonia thus completes
its credentials, ranging from ancient times to pre-World War II,
constructing a national mythology that excludes Albanians and
Partisans, and ignores Macedonia’s intertwined history with
Bulgaria as well. In tying part of its identity to Alexander the
Great, Macedonia’s profligate government spites Greece while
simultaneously shooting itself in the foot by spending half a
billion Euros on ridiculous construction, money that could be
going to schools and factories.
Gzim tells me that there was less corruption in Macedonia during
the socialist period than there is now – that now the government
will, for example, announce that a statue or some construction
project is going to cost ten million Euros, when the real cost
would be five million. Then that extra five would go partially
for kickbacks, and the rest directly into the pockets of the
politicians. As in Bosnia and Serbia, the link between
nationalism and corruption is a firm one.
For an extensive and very informative article on government
support of culture in Macedonia, see
Macedonian Culture
Strategy: Milestone or Wish List?” from November 15th,
2012.
This article mentions that seventy percent of Macedonia’s
cultural monuments are in “critical condition,” with some
“practically decomposing.” The medieval frescoes in Macedonia’s
churches are a world treasure. There, just for one example, is a
place where Macedonia could better spend its scarce funds.
Additionally, an excellent article that just came out explains
the politics behind the above-described project in very clear
terms. It describes the political system as being “held
hostage to the egos of a few leaders who consider the country
their property,” those leaders being “clusters of influential
people, often well planted on both sides of the thin line that
separates legality from crime.” The “clientelist” networks
dominated by profiteer-politicians are distinguished not by any
particular ideology or state-building agenda, but by their lust
for riches and power. This applies to the political
infrastructures dominating both the Macedonian and the Albanian
sides.
The article describes the crafting of a national narrative that
I have introduced above, commenting that the massive
construction project on the Macedonian side is too expensive to
undertake in a recession period. This can lead to further
unrest. But, the article concludes, “When the political fight is
left to warlords, it is not surprising that there is no respect
for laws or civil liberties. Rules are made for those who are
under them, not for the rulers.”
See
Patronage Politics Push Macedonia to a Precipice,
December 28th, 2012.
KOSOVO
I took an early bus from Skopje across the border to Kosovo,
less than an hour away. Going into Kosovo, the scenery for the
first half hour or so was unremarkable, not changed much since
my previous visits. There were some dilapidated shacks and
offices near the border in Blace, projecting the air of a
neglected outpost. Soon afterwards the road, bordering on a
canyon, entered a pleasant, undeveloped mountainous area.
About a half hour before the capital, Prishtina, there were
signs of a kind of parasitical development that promises nothing
productive. Boxy, glassy buildings with cheap metal siding lined
the road, offering construction materials, new cars, and
furniture. Here and there stood a gleaming hotel.
The scene read “foreign assistance” mixed with “remittance from
the diaspora.” Later I was told that many Kosovar Albanians in
the diaspora were building houses in Kosovo, leaving them empty,
and coming back once a year to visit.
I remember that last time I was in Kosovo, in 2006, the country
was discussing a declaration of independence. This declaration
finally took place two years later, in February of 2008, and to
date nearly one hundred states have recognized Kosovo (the most
recent recognition coming from Pakistan, just last week). Of the
EU members, 22 out of 27 states recognize Kosovo. Significantly,
Serbia and Russia have not recognized Kosovo, and probably never
will, or not for a long time.
Newborn sign, erected after Kosovo's
proclamation of independence, 2008
There was euphoria on the streets in Kosovo when independence
and statehood were proclaimed. But during my last visit I spoke
with one man who said to me, “I don’t care about independence; I
just want a job. Now, our economy is so poor that the only thing
we are really exporting is money [for imported goods].” I would
add that another significant export from Kosovo is people.
In Prishtina, I spoke with my friend Loran, the nephew of Gzim.
He brought me up to date on political developments in Kosovo.
Loran and all his relatives, many cousins, some uncles and aunts
too, were all subject to the occupation and attacks by Serb
forces in the late 1990s. Most of them were temporarily
displaced; it’s fortunate and rather remarkable that they all
survived that period, though not all of their properties were
found intact after the war.
I spent some time in Kosovo in 1998 and 1999 during that
turbulent period, and wrote about it: see
http://balkanwitness.glypx.com/kosovo98.htm
from 1998;
http://balkanwitness.glypx.com/kos99-1.htm
from 1999;
and various other reports whose links you can find if you scroll
down towards the bottom of this page:
http://balkanwitness.glypx.com/journal.htm.
When NATO was intervening and bombing many parts of Yugoslavia
in the spring of 1999, around 800,000 Albanians fled Kosovo for
Montenegro and Macedonia, in response to heightened persecution
from Serb forces. Those forces destroyed several hundred
villages and killed thousands of Albanians.
Loran told me something I had not heard before about that
period. The NATO intervention started in late March of 1999, and
mistreatment of Albanians, which had been going on all along,
immediately increased in a premeditated bid to rid Kosovo of its
majority Albanian population. But, Loran told me, the expulsions
stopped in May of that year, before the end of the intervention
and the defeat of the Serbian forces. At that time, Loran said,
“the Serbs stopped killing and expelling Albanians from
Kosovo. They started registering us, instead.” Apparently it
was deemed acceptable by the Serb authorities to retain a
certain disempowered minority of non-Serbs within the province.
Loran also told me that, among the Albanians when he was growing
up, “no one really believed that Yugoslavia was going to last
for a very long time.” I remember speaking to young people in
Kosovo, as long ago as the early 1980s, and hearing resentment
of the discrimination and mistreatment they experienced at the
hands of the Serbian rulers of their autonomous province. Some
of them advocated the creation of Kosovo as a seventh republic
within Yugoslavia – but I never heard promotion of Kosovo as an
independent country at that time. However, Loran said, “The
elders told us that Yugoslavia was not going to last forever.”
Present-day, semi-independent Kosovo has been engaged in
state-building, but it faces a raft of problems. The poor,
unproductive economy, with little to export, is one of them.
Corruption among the leaders is another. Bad relations with
neighboring Serbia is a third problem. The relationship between
Kosovo’s government and Albanian majority, on one hand, and its
minorities – especially its Serb inhabitants, on the other, are
a particularly difficult problem. In the south, Serb enclaves
are for the most part living in cooperation with the government.
But in the north, the Ibar River acts as an unofficial border
between the main part of Kosovo and a primarily Serb-inhabited
region.
This area has repeatedly been the scene of violence between Serb
separatists who refuse to recognize the sovereignty of Kosovo,
and Kosovo’s authorities. And the status of northern Kosovo has
served as a political issue to be manipulated by the Serbian
government in Belgrade.
Because of ongoing instability, NATO has retained a military
force, KFOR (Kosovo Force) in Kosovo. Over the years this force
has been reduced to the point where it now numbers around 5,500
troops. The UN Interim Administration Mission in Kosovo (UNMIK)
has created and enforced civil administration procedures. After
Kosovo’s declaration of independence, UNMIK reduced its role in
favor of EULEX, the European Union Rule of Law Mission in
Kosovo. EULEX deploys several thousand European police and
judges in Kosovo, and concerns itself with security and defense
policy.
These international institutions have in some degree constituted
a protectorate, their intervention in domestic matters
compromising Kosovo’s sovereignty. That is why I call Kosovo
semi-independent, in addition to the fact that, without Russia’s
consent, its prospects for admission into the UN are nil.
However, in the past year international supervision was declared
to be over. And under international pressure, relations with
Serbia are making very tentative steps forward as negotiations
have been resumed and an agreement has been reached on bilateral
supervision of the tense northern border of Kosovo.
For an overview of Kosovo’s international position, see the
recent article,
Kosovo: Year of the Historic Handshake, December 28, 2012.
Pro-Vetevendosje graffiti, Prizren,
Kosovo
Over the years, the movement for self-determination
Vetëvendosje (full name in Albanian: Lëvizja Vetëvendosje!)
has played an interesting role as gadfly, a fighter against
corruption and against the compromise of Kosovo’s sovereignty
both by Serbia and the international officials who they see as
giving that sovereignty away. Led by former student activist
(and for two years political prisoner in Serbia) Albin Kurti,
Vetëvendosje started as a grassroots movement, and a few years
ago it transformed into a political party. During its movement
years it was often in the headlines for fomenting unruly
demonstrations in which projectiles were thrown and people were
arrested. Kurti himself seemed to be in jail or under house
arrest by the Albanian authorities just about as often as he was
free. The organization has also been very creative in its use of
graffiti and political theater.
I have mentioned Vetëvendosje because people in Kosovo have
strong opinions about it. They either love Vetëvendosje or
despise it. In any case, I think that the organization brings up
very important issues and it is correct to mistrust Kosovo’s
leaders, Serbian leaders, and international officials who they
see as too willing to compromise on important issues. For these
reasons, I tried to learn what people I met with thought about
Vetëvendosje.
Some people call Vetëvendosje “nationalists” or “extremists.”
Loran told me, “Vetëvendosje says that they are in favor of
uniting with Albania, but they are not serious about it. This is
just rhetoric.” Commenting on Vetëvendosje’s indoor-outdoor
practices, he said, “It is not ok that they are in Parliament,
but still organizing rowdy demonstrations...Vetëvendosje opposes
negotiations with Serbia. But negotiations are needed. It shows
that we are serious. And the European Commission has taken steps
to bring Kosovo closer to the EU, even though our sovereignty is
not complete. Maybe this took place because we have been willing
to negotiate.”
For more information on Vetëvendosje, see its
English language home page.
Loran criticized the leaders of Kosovo for corruption, saying
that money that comes into the country “is all going into the
pockets of the politicians.” He added, “Most of the development
money in Kosovo comes from the diaspora. Some of it comes from
money laundering.”
On local administration in Prishtina, Loran said, “The
mayor of Prishtina was chosen because he was popular, not
because he was capable. He rejected a 30 million euro offer from
the European Commission to build a sports complex behind the
shopping center, simply because his party would not have control
over the property.”
I bought a SIM card for my cell phone so that I could arrange
meetings. Unlike in several other countries where I have done
so, I was required to register my identity as owner of that
phone number. In Bosnia, Croatia, Germany, and England you can
walk into any cell phone store or a corner market, or even a
kiosk, and purchase a phone number for the equivalent of a few
dollars. In Kosovo I had to show my passport and fill out a form
that even asked my father’s first name. Loran explained that the
government has decided on this measure in order to cut down on
crime. I told him, “I guess they don’t like the competition.”
Loran spoke of a lack of hope in Kosovo, saying that more
Kosovars are now seeking asylum in Europe. He himself is
thinking of leaving Kosovo. It would be hard for him and his
wife, he said, but in the long run, it would afford a better
life for his children.
*
For a recent article on militant Islam in Kosovo and in
Macedonia, see
Fissures in the Faith: Rise of Conservative
Islamists Alarms Kosovans, December 24, 2012:
*
I spoke with my old friend Erëblir
Kadriu. I met him when I came to Kosovo immediately after the
NATO intervention. Then, he was a skinny high school kid, but a
very intelligent and helpful one, and already an activist –
among other things, a member of the regional
PostPessimist
Network.
He helped me set up interviews with various activists.
Over twelve years later, Erëblir
is the same guy – just not skinny anymore. He spent five
years in the United States, finishing his high school and
undergraduate studies. Then, he
returned to
his native Kosovo – a patriotic and optimistic act – and became
a teacher. Later he received a master’s degree in psychology and
education at Cambridge. He is considering pursuing PhD studies.
You can see that this puts Erëblir
in an area of interest very similar to Belma and the staff of
Krila Nade in Sarajevo, whom I wrote about in my last report.
Today, Erëblir wears many hats;
his list of undertakings is impressive. He works as a guidance
counselor at American School of Kosovo; runs the American
Advising Center-EducationUSA Center in Kosovo; teaches social
psychology and research methods at the University of
Prishtina; and does research in educational activities for
students. Erëblir
also works with an NGO called IPE,
International
Progressive Education.
IPE provides information about state building and civil society,
and supports research on educational issues. The NGO is involved
in research on training teachers in this work. One study that it
has implemented asked students about their perception of a good
teacher. Another study dealt with teachers' experience in
curriculum reforms in Kosovo. IPE also plans to conduct a study
on school violence.
Together with colleagues from the American School and IPE,
Erëblir
organizes an event called the “Kosovar and Regional
Student Conference on Social Issues.” Participants are a mixed
group of young people including local Albanians, Serbs, and
Americans. The most recent conference took place this year in
Kosovo, on December 7th and 8th. Young
Serbs from North Mitrovica and Serbia attended. Students
presented reports on social issues such as economics, education,
privatization, gender issues, and religion.
Erëblir told me, “People who attended from different parts of the
region became good friends with each other after a few days. On
Friday and Saturday the activities were at the school dormitory.
People went bowling together.”
Regarding the research that IPE shares with teachers,
Erëblir
says, “The teachers learn and say, ‘These are great
techniques, but we can’t practice them in classes of up to 45
students.’ …There is a disconnect between the theory and the
practical. People attend the trainings but then they are blocked
because of the large classes, also because of problems with
resources. For example, it is difficult even to photocopy
something for the students. A class lesson has to go to the
school principal for approval. And some school maintenance
projects even have to be approved by the municipality. It takes
forever, for example, just to fix a broken window.”
Some aspects of Kosovo’s educational system are carryovers from
the Yugoslav system of the Tito era. In my report on Krila Nade
I mentioned the pedagogues that were present in Sarajevo’s
schools. They are present in Kosovo as well, but are becoming
less important there. There is a new educational strategy now
that involves having a psychologist, a nurse, a doctor, and a
social worker in each high school. Erëblir
tells me that there is a new framework for the curriculum
as well. New courses include health education. But there is a
lack of resources for implementing the changes.
Erëblir
says, “The official count of students per classroom is
around 36. But it is not true. There are as many as 50 students
in some classes.”
We talked about broader issues of economics and corruption in
Kosovo as well. Erëblir
told me that “Kosovo has a high percentage of the
population that is under 30 years old, but they are leaving.
People are losing hope. Youth unemployment is around 70%, while
overall, it’s around 50%.”
“It is a ghetto feeling here. People want to leave. The only
places they can go without a visa are Albania, Macedonia,
Montenegro, and Turkey. They can’t go to Bosnia without a visa.
There is a special document that they can get to go to Bosnia
and Greece.”
Regarding the economic situation, Erëblir
told me, “Kosovo’s economy has to be focused on
agriculture. We produce potatoes, tomatoes, and apples.”
Kosovo’s biggest trading partners, both for export and import,
are Macedonia, Serbia, Germany, and Turkey. “But the local
Kosovar producers are giving up. Our farmers could grow and
produce our own vegetables. We are importing tomatoes from
Macedonia, and we don’t need to. The farmers can’t compete with
these imports, and financial stimulation for domestic
agriculture is small to non-existent.”
Along with the poor economy comes
corruption – partly a cause, and partly a result. Erëblir
mentioned the Hotel Grand as an example, saying that the
deputy prime minister of Kosovo was involved in the corrupt
privatization of that hotel.
“There was a scandal with the Minister of Internal Affairs,”
Erëblir
continued. “That Ministry entered a tender for printing
Kosovo’s passports. They paid 14 million euros to an Austrian
company. There was a woman who transferred ten percent of that
tender back to some people from the Ministry. Upon inquiry into
this kickback, she said, ‘I will tell the names of the people
who engaged in the corruption, but you have to provide me with
witness protection.’ EULEX refused to do this. …was it because
it would ‘destabilize the government.’” (For more on this
scandal,
click here.)
“Kosovo is a ghetto. There is uncontrolled construction going on
here, without any plan. If there were an earthquake, everything
would fall down like dominoes. There is corruption, and no
enforcement of the laws.
“Then there was a new highway construction project, and the
government wouldn’t tell the public how much it cost.
Vetëvendosje published the figures, how much the international
corporations Bechtel and Enka were being paid.”
I asked Erëblir
his opinion on Vetëvendosje. He said, “Now I am closer to
Vetëvendosje than I was before. I see that nothing is changing,
and we need radical changes. I have given everything a chance,
but in some aspects, things got even worse. Some people
automatically associate Vetëvendosje with nationalism, but don’t
want to take a look at what they are offering. Vetëvendosje
wants the right to a referendum on unification with Albania.
This is prohibited in our constitution. It is having the right
to a referendum that is key. If people are not in favor of it,
then they can vote that way. In any case, we are not going to
wage a war to reunite with Albania. There has already been
enough war.”
Q: Does Vetëvendosje want EULEX to leave?
A: “No, Vetëvendosje says they should stay, but as partners. And we need the foreign judges who are present in our court
system to stay as well, but as equals.”
For my final question, I asked Erëblir,
“Do you have hope?”
“I’m always hopeful,” he responded. “Remember, I was in the
PostPessimists - we were beyond pessimism, but not yet
optimistic.”
Old and new, Prishtina
UPDATES
The Missing
In my previous report I wrote about search for
Bosnia-Herzegovina’s missing persons and Jasmin Odobašić’s work
in this field. I mentioned that he had been removed from his
position as head of the Sector for Operational, Legal, and
Financial Affairs in the Missing Persons Institute in 2010 after
having publicly criticized his colleagues. Odobašić appealed his
removal. In a recent decision, the Appeals Council of the
Bosnian Court found that he should be returned to his position
in the Institute, and should be awarded thirty months’ back pay.
Formation of Srebrenica’s Municipal Assembly
In my eighth report, I mentioned with alarm some news about the
formation of Srebrenica’s municipal assembly. It had been
announced that the SDP and SBB (respectively, the
social-democrat party of Zlatko Lagumdžija and the party of
Fahrudin Radončić) were planning to form a coalition with the
Serb-controlled parties in Srebrenica, thus nullifying the
entire effort to elect Ćamil Duraković
as a candidate from a coalition of parties that do not deny the
fact that genocide took place in Srebrenica. Well, the municipal
assembly was finally formed, on the last day of 2012, and no
coalition was formed. The several parties involved – both Serb-
and Bosniak-dominated – agreed to form a government with no
opposition.
This unusual arrangement could mean that “instant coalitions”
will form whenever it is convenient; it could also mean that the
parties will all cooperate in the best interests of the people
of Srebrenica. Time will tell.