Those pesky moral standards
Autor: Biljana Vankovska
Originally Published at Peace and Conflict Monitor on: 07/12/2005
Category: Diaries
According to a wise man, morality consists of drawing a line at some point. Indeed, this is a personal attempt to talk publicly on drawing one particular line, i.e. to share with you my own moral dilemma which proved to be more important than my professional ethics. Well, feel free to judge whether or not it is wise and useful at all in a world of real-politik to have a need to draw a line, when to draw it, and on what particular issues.
Not so long ago I received an invitation to attend a conference in Pristina. Unmistakably, the title was “The Final Status of Kosovo/a”, where Serbian Helsinki Committee appeared as organizers (no, there is no mistake, I am referring to the one with a seat in Belgrade, Serbia), along with USIP from Washington D.C. The list of invitees was also impressive, beginning with Rugova and Petersen, leading all the way to intellectuals like Surroi, Vesna Pusic, Latinka Perovic, etc. It was my honour as the only participant from Macedonia to serve as a speaker on the panel dealing with the regional context. Truly, at first I was thrilled and accepted the invitation promptly: it’s my deep belief that dialogue is the only way to find solutions for disputes among and between peoples, communities and individuals… Besides, unlike many poisonous critics I still (naively?) believe in the power of civil society, experts and intellectuals to empower peace and democracy.
There was, however, one tricky detail: my co-panelist was supposed to be Gen. Agim Ceku. I don’t know why, but the alleged regional ‘expertise’ of Ceku awakes associations on his engagements in Croatia (massacres of civilian victims in Medjak Pocket and Krajina), but also in Macedonia in the spring of 2001 when troops of his Kosovo Protection Corps were penetrating the Macedonian border. I was puzzled: how could I possibly be a fitting expert with appropriate expertise to a person who knew the matters literally from the terrain? Nevertheless, I said to myself: a dialogue is a dialogue, what has been – has been. We need to move forward to the future of the region. Well (I continued with my self-suggestion), for us here in Macedonia it is very important what is going on there in Kosovo/a. It is important to portray our vision for neighbourly relationships, for a Macedonia with no open border issue with Kosovo/a, for a region with no visa and custom barriers, etc. Finally, let me be honest and admit that my researcher’s curiosity helped a lot in making my decision to go to Pristina: It would have been such an extraordinary opportunity to take part as a participant-observer (in the language of sociological research methodology). As the responsible professional that I am, I started re-reading all relevant reports on the Balkans (ICG, Carnegie Commission, etc.), and the latest news and statements, including the testimony of USIP Director Daniel Serwer before the US Congress on Kosovo’s final status.
When analysis avoids going into ‘slices’ but instead embraces the whole mosaic, even a notorious cynic can be astonished. All of sudden you realise that it’s not enough that violence has been legitimized and justified – for instance, through appointment of Ceku as Chief of Staff of the KPC (on a UN payroll), through UNMIK Chief Petersen’s compliments on Ceku’s achievements in security sector reform, through the fact that Ceku was a guest of honour at USIP in early May, and through the fact that this (in)famous general gave a lecture to the cadets of a US military academy. Despite all this legitimization, the past is what it is.
That was the critical moment of ‘enlightenment’: that my presence, as well as that of the other intellectuals from the region, was to be but an additional (regional and intellectual) legitimization of violence, which would be unavoidably symbolized through Ceku’s coming together with other ‘heroes’ from my own country (such as Ali Ahmeti, the leader of the Albanian fight for ‘human rights’ in 2001). Perhaps in the world of real-politik, in which lives my Prime Minister, that kind of dialogue is diplomatically wise and even necessary. But in the world I belong to, I alone decide to whom I will talk and give my sincere respect, even if I disagree with a person. It is a bare fact: I am never (thank God) going to have the expert knowledge and experience of Mr. Ceku.
At that moment, I broke and decided to draw that moral line. I called Mrs. Biserko’s associate and told her that for the sake of their project it would be better for them to find a replacement for me – that is, to find a person who would be courteous and hypocritical enough to not talk about the evil, to not listen to the evil, and to close her eyes before the evil. It seemed we understood each other, so there was not even the slightest attempt to make me change my mind or to give me assurance I would be welcome to openly express my opinion.
The first reaction was relief, but on second thought I felt cowardly. Maybe it would have been useful for someone to break the idyllic picture created by the politicians and to straightforwardly point out that that the region’s future will be volatile and far from pinky as long as one can get to power using guns. Also there can’t be a stable and prosperous region as long as the foundations of the newly created states (ones embedded in 1999 as well as in 2001 conflict aftermath) include legitimating violence as such. There will be no sustainable peace as long as people involved in war crimes against civilians are amnestied for the sake of ‘peace’ (we still remember that the Dayton Accords created such a guarantor of peace who is now indicted in The Hague). Ah, it’s amazing how relative things are in the world of real-politik – one day you can be a war criminal and the next the peace perspectives lie in your (bloody) hands! We, the others, who still stick to morality and international law like a blind man to his cane, we are so outdated, like dinosaurs, we simply don’t understand anything in these ‘post-modern’ times…
At the end of the day, I did not attend the conference. Forgive me for holding a stupid, ethical principle that prevented me from informing the respected audience in Pristina on how humiliated and worthless is the Macedonian state when Kosovo/a (a state-in-making) imposes visas for our citizens and customs on our products, Kosovo/a whose Prime Minister officially says that demarcation of the border with Macedonia was not a priority on his government’s agenda (isn’t it a bit strange when said by people who fought for territories and new borders?). At the time, while the Hague Tribunal rejects Macedonian state assurances on behalf of the two Macedonian indictees for war crimes, Mr. Haradinaj walks freely in his state-in-making. Surely, with the blessing of some people who understand the world of real-politik.
Footnote:
Bio: Prof. Biljana Vankovska works at the University of Skopje in Macedonia
Poems for Peace
Autor: Olumide Olaniyan
Originally Published at Peace and Conflict Monitor on: 03/10/2005
Category: Diaries
RAPED BY THE INCUBUS
In the hot
sun
By the side
of the road
The incubus
over-powered us
Tore off our
flesh
Leaked our
blood with snake-like tongue
Like dying
stones, we screamed voicelessly
With shrill
laughter, the incubus crushed our souls
We crumbled
to the soil
Decomposing
alive,
Lost the
ability to think
Searched for
the elusive death
But the
incubus returned
Wrapped
itself around our living remains
Carefully ate
our outer flesh
For if we
die, he dies
The incubus
was one of us
His mother
lived down the road
He
metamorphosed after the mandate he stole
Our fauna and
flora became his bequest
Foreigners he
brought bought our land and labour
Demeaned our
daughters, enslaved our sons
Strong men,
he turned to fauns
To guard him
from our mouthed curses
Election time
is here again
Rivaling
incubuses lurk round the ballot box
They appear
human again
Promising
schools for our brood
Swearing to
pay labourers wages
But it is
another deja vu.
THE EARTH FOUGHT BACK
With cutlasses, hoes and other
weapons,
We tore up its
face
Dug out its
intestines
Drained out its black
blood
These are liquid energies for our
machineries
Not satisfied with its
degradation
We ate up the greens
leaves
With which it hid itself from the
sun
We tramped on it day and
night
Oblivious of its agony
As we marched, drove and skied
To everywhere and
nowhere
In our daily search for happiness
It fought back this
morning
Quaking from its placidity
Buried us beneath our
homes
Which were standing on its
face
Shook the seas and the
wilderness
Killing many
thousands
Showing us its strengths
Which are stronger than our
weaponry
While it is ready to serve
us
(For we are doomed without
it)
We have to tread with
caution
Avoiding it depletion
For if we kill the
earth
We kill ourselves.
THE JOURNEY TO
INEQUALITY
Before we were literate
When development was a stranger
to our land
The happiness of one another was
our goal
Communality was our
ethos
In unity we conquered seas
And mountains and
wildernesses
The inalienability of our rights
was undocumented
Yet, they were not violated
We were a united
para la humanidad
In our endless search for
civilisation
We developed science and
letter
Men then subjected the
women
Whites then enslaved the
blacks
North then sat on the
south
The old then bullied the
young
Able-bodied then oppressed the
disabled
The canny then subjugated the
meek
We struggled to rule
others
Sacrificing liberty for
power
Keeping bullets in barns of
grains
Fighting two wars in one
century
Killing some for their beliefs
and religions
Enslaving others for their colour
and location
Today, we have outlawed
barbarism
The blacks have been
emancipated
Women are conquering
patriarchy
The rest are accusing the
north
Freedom is returning into our
midst
We are becoming human again
THE THOROUGHFARE TO MANKIND
He was born human
With blood and
placenta
Frail, helpless with tearless
cry
With no knowledge of what is
here
Nor with memory of what was
there
But he has come into
despair
His destruction commences at
birth
With the structuring of his
being
He is nurtured to be
wild
And taught to break the vessel of
milk
So he thinks of insidious
attainments,
Letting blood for dominance and
possession
He grows up to become a
brute
Working with his
head,
And never his
heart
Proclaiming to be
strong
When he is weak
Enforcing
leadership,
Where he ought to
follow
With his inside overwhelmed from
without
The grave awaits him at his
prime
But he vomits his venoms into his
kind
Maintaining a self-bondage and
her woes
This is the journey that created
the road
The thoroughfare to
mankind.
Footnote:
Bio: Olumide Olaniyan is a masters candidate in Gender Studies at the University for Peace. He can be contacted at olumydes@yahoo.co.uk.
