I'M WITH STUPID ...and other insights from Macedonia

First, and most importantly: if I wrote my name in Albanian, I would spell it “Xheremi.” How cool is that?

I thought that for this week, instead of (or, more accurately, in addition to) just making fun of the places to which I’m traveling, I would provide a more substantive update on the situation here, the research I’m doing, and some of the more sensational things to come out of the mouths of my interviewees.

To set the context: the current governing coalition in Macedonia consists of 2 parties, the ethnic Macedonian “Internal Macedonian Revolutionary Organization – Democratic Party of Macedonian National Unity” – which should be in the Guinness Book of World Records for longest party name, and which will henceforth be referred to by the Macedonian abbreviation of its abbreviation, VMRO – and the ethnic Albanian “Democratic Union for Integration” (DUI). VMRO was the closest thing Macedonia had to a Communist dissident movement. Today, it is a conservative nationalist party with close ties to the church. One American professor I talked to here called VMRO “crude and stupid,” and said it is made up of a bunch of “fascists” who are “turning this place into a police state.” DUI is an outgrowth of the National Liberation Army, which took up arms against the Macedonian state in 2001 on behalf of the country’s Albanians. It itself is in large part an outgrowth of the Kosovo Liberation Army (they have the same acronym in Albanian), though everyone here seems to have their own story on the real origin of the insurgency. Seems like a governmental odd couple? Well, yeah, it is – but then again, is anything normal here?

In 2006, VMRO formed a coalition with the other major Albanian party, the Democratic Party of the Albanians, despite DUI winning more seats than DPA. DUI threw a tantrum, saying that whichever Albanian party wins the most seats should be in the coalition, regardless of the biggest party’s preferences. This complaint reveals a prominent strain of thought in the Albanian community here: it is as if there are two political systems – one Macedonian, one Albanian. Each chooses their leader, and then the two must work together, even if they despise each other.

And VMRO and DUI pretty much despise each other. I met with an MP from DUI last week, who complained about VMRO’s growing uber-nationalist moves. If VMRO doesn’t start being more conciliatory, the MP said, DUI will need a new platform. The MP stopped there. “You mean, a more nationalist platform?” I enquired. “Well, I don’t know,” was the response. “But if VMRO continues to be inflexible, then it will be unacceptable for us to continue being flexible.” Read: things are tense, and about to get more so.

To be fair to DUI, VMRO has been partaking in its fair share of absurdity and provocation. For example, an architectural hodge-podge built in honor of Mother Teresa (see pic below) displays a Macedonian flag prominently, emphasizing her citizenship; a big cross, emphasizing her religion; and many mentions of her origins in Skopje, emphasizing where she is from, geographically. And yet there is no mention of her being Albanian. As one political analyst pointed out to me, the government lost a great chance to do something powerful – the Albanian community cares a lot about symbols, and VMRO threw out a chance for a big symbolic gesture of inclusion to the Albanian community.

Overall, it seems as if the leaders of the two communities, in an effort to prevent their being out-maneuvered by the other, have also made sure that the other does not out-stupid them either. Every provocative move by one is taken as a cue to return the “favor” in kind.

Not that ideology really matters. In a country with around 35% unemployment and in which the state controls many resources, political activism is job-seeking. Multiple people to whom I’ve talked, completely independently of one another, have described people’s view of political parties using the same two words: “employment bureaus.” The economic crisis has hit – though as one Albanian said to me, “We’ve had so many crises here over the last 20 years, what’s one more?” – and parties are often considered the best possibility for finding a job. Yet the Law on Civil Servants makes firing past parties’ employees difficult, so basically the bureaucracy keeps expanding, while the EU demands the opposite.

Speaking of the EU, it seems to me that just about everyone I meet here either works in or has worked in EU integration. Joining the EU, and perhaps NATO, is seen as the best – perhaps last – hope for this country. As one employee of a prominent NGO told me, “The only time I was optimistic was when I was working in EU integration.” So when Greece vetoed Macedonia’s entry into NATO at the infamous Bucharest Summit, people here really started to lose hope. “What have we gotten from democracy?” that NGO worker asked rhetorically. “With a Yugoslav passport, we could go anywhere without a visa” – everyone here talks about the visa issue – “but now we are a landlocked country that no one cares about, and we’re even more locked in because we need a visa to go almost anywhere.” The reaction, naturally and unfortunately, is nationalist defensiveness. Hence VMRO’s success. People see how destructive the party is, but in their indignation I guess they don’t care. “A bent head cannot be cut by a sword,” goes a Macedonian proverb I heard, referring to many Macedonians’ acquiescent attitude towards the authorities. So VMRO goes on planning a multimillion dollar 30 meter-tall statue of Alexander the Great that will achieve only the laudable aims of wasting money and pissing off Greece.

Probably the most colorful character I’ve met is a self-described “insane” foreign independent economic consultant named Sam who has lived in the region for decades. Though his completely freelance operation makes him a bit sketchy to me, his credibility was established about 20 minutes into our conversation, when the Minister of Health called his cell phone. Sam got irritated with the minister for trying to schedule a meeting at 9 am on a Saturday.

During his 1 hour, 45 minute giganto-lecture/tirade, in which he interrupted his talking at me to sip multiple huge cups of decaf, he criticized just about everybody. He thrashed the West’s (mis-)understanding of the Balkans, the commanders of the 2001 Albanian insurgents (“troglodytes”), Albanians in general (“they are intolerant of sharing space with others”), ethnic Macedonians (“self-destructive”), all of the country’s elites (“they can teach you nothing”), Macedonia as a whole (“it’s going backwards”), and by extension VMRO, as the party most responsible for sending Macedonia backwards.

His views can perhaps be summarized as follows: the Balkans is (or was) “the least nationalistic region” in the world. It was made up of multicultural societies, and the idea of “narod,” usually translated as “nation,” was not exclusivist. Then, a combination of Great Power imposition and misguided local intellectualism falsified history to create the idea of exclusivist, genetically borne nations. Albanians are the one exception to the multicultural rule, having lived in mostly homogeneous communities throughout history. Thus, when the wave of nationalism swept over the Balkans in the 1980s, Albanians were best equipped to ride it. At Macedonia’s independence in 1991, Albanians showed their unwillingness to participate in the state’s society by boycotting the referendum on statehood. Macedonians, “as usual, ten years behind,” were just getting going on the process of constructing their own pseudo-historical national narrative when the Albanians were most keen on self-exclusion – hence, discrimination against and exclusion of Albanians from the state’s institutions. By taking the Albanians’ bait, the Macedonians looked like the bad guys in 2001 and had to pay the price in the peace treaty. Now the two communities are entrenched in their suspicion of one another, and there are portents of another conflict, which he doubts Macedonia can survive.

On the potentially hopeful side, a new generation of Albanian politicians is arising that is exposed to the West and abhors violence. Yet this is only good news if Macedonians don’t “continue as they are now.” If they do, Albanians may decide they don’t want to be a part of the state, and they have the perfect crop of politicians to secede – nationalist moderates who can “explain their position to the West in the West’s terms.”

Sam’s financial independence allows him to maintain his political and ideological independence, which he does by operating under what he calls the “fuck-off principle.” He consults for free, but as soon as he finds out someone is corrupt, “I tell them to fuck off.”

Yet his outspokenness has its consequences. His apartment was burned two years ago. “It’s not a game,” he said. “It’s a minefield.”

I must add a word about what I’ve been hearing regarding the Greece-Macedonia name dispute. One jolly TV news anchor told me he’d be OK with calling this country “Northern Macedonia” as long as Greece calls its portion of the region “Southern Macedonia.” He added, “I don’t know whether I’m joking or not – it’s a stupid issue!”

“Stupid” seems to be the running theme around here. It is, unfortunately, an apt word to describe the way things have been handled by the region’s people, their elected and unelected leaders, and the international community.

I’ll conclude with a more nuanced metaphor. A man from the Skopje branch of the National Democratic Institute, one of the most influential NGOs here, asked me, “Do you like soccer?” Well, duh. “It’s like an ‘own goal,’ when you score on your own team. In Macedonia we are getting attacked from all sides, but on top of that, everything we do is committing an own goal against ourselves.”

Pictures: Skopje really started to get on my nerves, especially after my real estate agent – who got fired in part for finding my apartment outside the agency – stole my camera (or at least I’m like 90% sure). Luckily, that frustration coincided with my favorite holiday of the year, “Slavonic Enlighteners’ Day,” so I decided to take the opportunity to get out of the capital. I headed – new, cheaper camera in hand – for the town of Prilep near Treskavec Monastery, featured in “Before the Rain,” which is probably the most important Macedonian film. After seeing it I still have no idea what it’s about – all I got from it was “the circle is not round,” and I’m not even sure what that means – but the scenery is awesome:


Prilep


The center of Prilep, with Alexander the Great, symbol of nationalist lunacy in Greece and Macedonia – notice the map of Macedonia on the statue, which extends beyond this country’s borders. Exactly what Greece fears.


Campaign ad with successful VMRO presidential candidate George Ivanov


Town of Veles, between Skopje and Prilep


View from Sveti Panteljemon Monastery over Skopje and the Vardar Valley


The “Mother Teresa House” in Skopje

ZDRAVO from Skopje, capital of Macedonia (or FYROM, or Greece’s Northern Neighbor, or whatever)

The reason for the name confusion is – you guessed it – nationalism. Northern Greece is also known as Macedonia, and the Greek and Slav Macedonians have been bickering over whether Macedonia can call itself by that name, and some Greeks instead call it “Fyrom,” i.e. “the Former Yugoslav Republic of Macedonia.” I, however, am going to call this country what the people here call it, without making a political recommendation.

This country is a little nuts. And that’s a very loose definition of a little. I thought I’d arranged an apartment with a real estate agency, but the night before I took the bus through Kosovo I found out the apartment was no longer available, so the agent found me an “under the table” set-up with her mother’s dentist’s uncle (well, duh – who else would it be?). It’s a great apartment right in the center of the city, a short walk from the big new mall that may be built on top of the site of the house where Mother Teresa (Albanian from Skopje!) grew up. The agent made a “contract” by crossing out and handwriting over a form she had. She asked Jovan, the owner, if he wanted a copy in Macedonian. His reply (in Macedonian) was approximately, “I don’t give a shit. In Macedonia, we still do things with a handshake.”

I’ve started my research – I’ve had a bunch of interesting conversations, including one with a female parliamentarian from a nationalist Albanian party in government with a nationalist Macedonian party - sounds like there's some tension. One concept that seems to be important is vrski, which basically means the network of all the personal and familial connections one has. Vrski seems to run just about everything, which means much of my research will have to be quasi unofficial, since it often involves helping others do illegal things. I’ll wait to compile some more interviews before giving detailed stories, but here’s a quick one to give you a sense of this place:

I met 3 American students here on Fulbrights the other night who welcomed me to “The Mack,” as they call this country, One is dating a Macedonian woman, known in Macedonian as a “Makedonka” (apparently Peace Corps volunteers call dating a Macedonian “Makedonkin’ it”). A couple nights ago, the trio was hanging out in one of their apartments during a storm, when all of a sudden they heard a loud crash. They went outside and saw that the entire roof of the apartment building across the street had been ripped off by the storm, and lay in a heap on the street. The Makedonka’s Fulbright boyfriend was so excited to tell his girlfriend’s family about this crazy thing he had just witnessed. But the father of the woman was nonplussed, responding matter-of-factly, “It was a new building, yes? Ok, that makes sense.” Building codes haven’t been well-enforced since independence, in case you couldn’t guess.

The stories I really wanted to tell you, though, are a couple more things from Montenegro. First, just briefly, I had a really interesting conversation with Ivana and the US Ambassador to Montenegro for about 45 minutes in his office. We talked about a lot of Balkan political stuff that I won’t get into – including his personal, unofficial views on the Greek-Macedonian name dispute – but I’ll send you my notes if you’re interested. He summed up his views on the pace of progress and European integration in the Balkans as follows: “It’s very slow – frustratingly slow,” he said. “Every day some stupid issue – like a naming issue – comes up. But I’m optimistic – if you think about how bad this area was during the 90s, and how far it has come…. I would say that for the first time in a long time – maybe ever – there is a general vision for the region.”

And now the good story: the day before that meeting, I gave a presentation for a group of primary school teachers involved in one of Ivana’s inter-ethnic dialogue programs. It was in a small town called Tuzi, which is mixed, but mostly Albanian. The town has many Albanian Catholics, and the religious division (Catholic v Muslim v Orthodox Christian) may be stronger there than the ethnic division (Albanian v ethnic Montenegrin).

The presentation had two parts. in the first section, I talked about minority rights in the US, focusing a lot on how (at least in theory) US law is organized around individual rights and doesn’t want to know your group identity, whereas in the Balkans and other nation-states group rights are crucial. There were some interesting questions, including one about racism in US immigration policy. I asked the teachers about their impression of minority in the US. “We hear a lot from our relatives,” said one teacher – there is a large diaspora from Tuzi in the Detroit area. “They say they like the constitution, but not the economy.” Sounds about right to me.

But the next responses to the question were barely relevant. “We think the kids here are smarter,” one female teacher said. “And American kids have freezers full of food,” added a mustachioed man near the door. “So they get very fat.”

In the second section, I talked about religion and inter-faith relations in the US. This section was much more interactive. When I asked how religious diversity is managed – or not – in Tuzi, there was an awkward silence filled with finger-twiddling and head-scratching. Eventually, an older female teacher said only, “It will be fine.” When I asked her to elaborate, she said, “Uh…no comment for now.”

Moreover, Ivana told me before the event that the only thing members from all religious communities in the group could agree upon was that there should be no mixed marriages. “Look at Sarajevo,” they argued. There were tons of mixed marriages there, and it turned into a disaster. It seems sadly ironic to me that the only thing members of the different communities could agree upon was to stay separate from each other.

The questions started to get a little more ridiculous as the second hour wore on. One balding man in the front asked, “I have applied for a visa to go to the US 6 times, and they have rejected me 6 times with no good reason – why is that?” I told him seriously that I was sorry and jokingly that I would step outside and call President Obama to see what I could do. Another teacher chimed in. “Listen, he’s a friend of mine,” he said with a smirk on his face, “but if I was in charge, I wouldn’t give him a visa.” And then: “but we had another question amongst ourselves earlier – are you married?” A woman from the back then added, “If you married a Montenegrin or an Albanian, it would be very interesting, wouldn’t it?” Great, I thought. I’ve got a whole room of yentas in front of me – so much for avoiding mixed marriages. A senior essay AND a wife in one trip – now that’s efficiency. On that note, please keep your calendars free for Sundays next June. Her name is – don’t worry, just kidding!

Wishing you all the best, and lots and lots of VRSKI!!

And now some pics:


Presenting in Tuzi


The audience in Tuzi


Sunset between Tuzi and Podgorica


The hills separating Montenegro and Kosovo


A soccer game in Kosovo


Skopje: of Ottomans and Communists


An awesome mosque in Tetovo, center of Macedonia's Albanian community (i.e. the community I am researching)

First update

For those of you who don’t know what I’m up to this summer, I’m doing field research for my senior essay in political science on ethnic minority political behavior and majority-minority political relations in Macedonia and Israel – I’ll be spending some time in each of those countries, but making some stops along the way.

First up is Montenegro (oops, looks like I get my 20 dinars), where I have a friend who I met last summer, when I traveled to the Balkans with a group of Jewish and Palestinian students on a comparative conflict trip. Many of you have heard me talk about how transformative that trip was for me. My friend here, Ivana, was one of the teachers on that trip. She works for the Nansen Dialogue Center, a Norwegian-funded network of interethnic dialogue centers spread across the former Yugoslavia. On our trip last summer we met with people from NDC-Mitrovica (Kosovo), NDC-Sarajevo (Bosnia), and NDC-Mostar (Bosnia – err, to be exact, Herzegovina), and I plan to meet people at NDC-Skopje (Macedonia) soon. Ivana is an amazing worldly person who never sleeps – it seems like every time I emailed her to plan the trip she’d just gotten back from a conference in Kenya, or was about to go to a European Commission meeting in Brussels. She’s going to Jerusalem for the first time next week for a meeting of a global network of peace educators – her eyes totally light up every time we talk about her trip to Jerusalem, which she seems to consider a dream come true.

Anyways, while we were sitting in the restaurant at the Dr. Milosevic spa/rehab center (no, not THAT Milosevic) in Igalo, Montenegro last July, she said that it would be great if I could come to the university in Podgorica, the capital of the country (known as Titograd during the Yugoslav years), to talk about my studies on the Balkans and Israel/Palestine. I said that sounded great, but I thought to myself, “And when’s that gonna happen?” But here I am!

The morning after I arrived, I went to get my U Montenegro student ID card. The man at the desk did not speak much English, but was very nice. As we waited for the card to print, he asked me, "Which is number one university in USA - Yale or Princeton?" So I guess it's actually Harvard that doesn't matter?

I spent my first day visiting the town of Kotor, sandwiched between steep cliffs and the Mediterranean. I’ll let the attached pictures do the talking.

Probably the most interesting thing I've done so far is to give a lecture at a class in the political science department at the University of Montenegro. Ivana's friend, Sonja, is the vice-chair of the department and an advisor to the president on human rights. She invited me to speak in her freshman lecture. Sonja is a very respected academic in the region, though her appearance is probably not what we would imagine, given her position. Dressed in stylish clothes with heels, lots of bright blue eyeliner, and done-up dyed blonde hair, she basically giggled as she recounted her chance conversation with the tall, chiseled-jaw, pro-Western president of Serbia at the inauguration of the new Macedonian president the previous night.

At least 10 minutes after class was supposed to start, we walked into the classroom. Sonja dropped her keys, put her hands on the table, and launched into a discussion about democracy and tyranny, which Ivana scrambled to translate for me ("eh...now she is talking about violence...eh, Hannah Arendt...if a state needs to use violence for control it is not legitimate..."). After about 20 minutes, she invited me up. I talked about nationalism, talked briefly about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict to give them a non-Balkan example, and then described my project. The students seemed attentive, and there were some interesting questions (including a few by one student sitting in the front who says we wants to study at Yale). After a few questions, a hulk with gelled hair in the back raised his hand and said, "I have a question, but it has nothing to do with your presentation: so, how are the girls like in San Francisco?" I laughed, responded with "they're great - you should come and see," and moved on to the next question. Overall, it went very well.

One (obvious) thing I'm quickly learning is just how small Montenegro is. Case in point: as Ivana and I walked from the university towards a restaurant, she bumped into a woman she knew. "That's my relative," she explained after. "She is a judge in the constitutional court." Then at dinner, I noticed a woman at another table who looked remarkably like a younger Tzipi Livni (important Israeli politician). I told Ivana, and she leaned in and told me, "ah, yes, I know her - she is a spokeswoman for the opposition Socialist People's Party." We left the restaurant to have coffee and Balkan spirits with her friend, a diplomat working at the Foreign Ministry on Montenegro's EU integration bid (not an easy project, given that Montenegro's Brussels team is - according to Ivana's friend - understaffed, underpaid, and highly undermotivated).

In a few hours, I’m giving a presentation for a group of mostly Albanian teachers in a nearby town who are involved with an inter-ethnic dialogue project at NDC-Podgorica. I’ll have some other meetings and then head to Macedonia on Saturday. I’ll give you the highlights next time.


I’ve noticed that in many emails I get from people in the Balkans, they love to use :) smily faces but always with at least 4 or 5 parentheses. So I’ll wrap up this email in the way Ivana has ended many of her emails to me: So you see, life here in the Balkans is never boring! :~))))))


view from my room of U Montenegro quad - I hear Robert Frost once called it "the most beautiful college courtyard in Montenegro" ;) - err, rather, ;~)))))


Kotor


more Kotor


The prof. in action at U Montenegro