The Billboard as a Paradigm

Written by: Nevena Kovačević

State holidays, oddly enough, have taken on a kind of unexpected charm – at least in the past five years. As the Duke might say: just in time for us to get used to this new, shall we say, Ice Age. But to his misfortune, we won’t be adjusting – much less accepting the Duke’s standards.

The tools of the PR machinery that frantically defended Mayor Mujović have overheated – some may have even burned out – so, naturally, a few euros from the state budget will be tossed in for repairs. After all, it’s no small feat to fire off dozens of press releases to dozens of outlets. And all that time spent manically tweeting in his defense? Surely that warrants a reward – likely a luxury getaway. On the taxpayers’ dime, of course – how else?

Anyone not living in our godforsaken corner of the world might assume the mayor, who, to be fair, isn’t quite a fascist but is certainly their ally and enabler, was physically attacked by a group of anti-fascist protesters. The reality? Just a chorus of whistles – an increasingly common soundtrack wherever Mujović and his unofficial legal counsel Spajić appear. You don’t need to follow sports or theatre to catch it; the online clips say it all.

The mayor was expecting a hero’s welcome this time – after all, he came to honor the heroes of the anti-fascist struggle. A comrade of the clerical-fascist bloc and a political turncoat – could it possibly get more absurd?

And yet, somehow, Mujović managed – unintentionally – to unify a fragmented majority. From pro-Serb parties to centrists, even the Albanian ones (assuming Nik speaks for them), all were equally shocked and appalled. But predictably, most of the criticism was reserved for opposition MPs, for allegedly inciting the public. First to whistle, then, heaven forbid, to violence – if Mujović hadn’t “stoically” endured the booing and “dignifiedly” fled the scene.

Among his defenders, one stood out. Asked to comment on the incident, the Prime Minister – clearly prepped and visibly irritated – shrugged it off with a blissful smile, saying they were “very busy”, and that there’d be time for questions… eventually, when no one cares anymore.

If Mujović’s defenders hadn’t reminded us a hundred times that he’s a university professor, we might’ve assumed he’d lost his voice. As it stands, the whole scene has an eerie echo of Vučić silencing his many puppets, or storming out of a press conference because he couldn’t bear Dačić’s excuses about the lack of police response. It seems Montenegro’s “mini Vučić” has been replaced by a not-so-mini version.

Speaking of radicals – Vojislav Šešelj never stopped waving around his doctoral dissertation, yet he remains a war criminal and fringe figure, still clinging to his delusion of redrawing Balkan borders. He knows full well it’s a fantasy. Instead, he lobs threats from media outlets staffed by loyal lapdogs, while his political “son” pays him no mind whatsoever.

Now, to the billboard in Nikšić’s town square. It somehow slipped by with barely a ripple, despite being impossible to miss. Beyond a few murmurs, it stayed under the radar.

Let’s ask ourselves: how did Mr. Kokarda come up with such a “brilliant” idea? The Duke’s speech in Nevesinje, paired with the “bright” minds of Šubara and the slightly dimmer Dario, was already overflowing with nonsense.

The Duke denied Bosnia and Herzegovina’s territorial integrity, lumped Montenegro and Serbia together, and invoked pan-Serbian unity under the guise of reconciliation.

Therein lies the symbolic and strategic logic. If he can't send in church-backed brotherhoods or unleash tear gas on citizens, he can still provoke and undermine the state with stunts like this.

To be fair, Šubara likely learned his history from church propaganda rather than textbooks, so his enthusiasm is almost understandable. Sure, our textbooks aren’t perfect – but they beat political pamphlets.

For the record, the Nevesinje Rifle has no real connection, outside of revisionist fantasy, with July 13th or the Berlin Congress, where Montenegro and Serbia were recognized as distinct, independent states. But then Marko added another masterstroke: no red flags, only the old tricolor. We’ve long accepted that Nikšić doesn’t celebrate national holidays properly. So please – spare us the billboards that rewrite history. We’ve had enough of billboard-driven “economics,” hate-filled graffiti, and banners that try to repaint the past.

Let’s be clear: national holidays in Nikšić don’t get celebrated on Šubara’s terms. That’s the deal – we maintain the peace because we know where we stand.

And now, for the twist – the billboard reflects the current ruling coalition, the so-called “Troika.” Not a single centrist batted an eye. While the opposition laid wreaths for Ljubo Čupić and King Nikola, the kokarda crew clumsily celebrated Montenegro’s “ties” to old Herzegovina. Again, they missed the point entirely, peddling a church-forged tale of a Montenegrin-Herzegovinian, by Milan Knežević’s logic, Serbian uprising. If we weren’t sane, we might think the Partisans and the Chetniks fought side by side for Garašanin’s Greater Serbia dream, repackaged for modern times.

But attempts to dismantle the foundations of anti-fascism, from every direction, fell flat.

Lies remain the most expensive word in the Greater Serbian vocabulary, and truth the most elusive. Just look at the case of a certain well-bred nephew’s favorite, who fired a gun, but didn’t mean any harm. He was just “playing war,” practicing what he learned from a proud member of the infamous Seventh Battalion.

A word of warning: don’t even think about protesting when this “cultured young man” gets arrested. And as for Boris Bogdanović, along with Koprivica and Bečić, when it’s time to do Mandić a favor, don’t forget to extend the vetting to the Forensics Center, too. How dare those clueless experts bungle the analysis of pure and innocent Danilo? And while you’re at it – make sure Ljubiša, a.k.a. Methodius, isn’t harassed. Speed up his vetting as well. It’s just not fair to go after a priest for falsifying history and glorifying executioners and Hitler’s loyal servant, Pavle Đurišić.

So what have we learned? A lie told a thousand times is still a lie. Insulting a citizen’s mother is, in truth, an insult to the anti-fascist legacy our centrists only pretend to honor. And hopefully, we’ve also learned that we must be more proactive. Because no one–not the DF-style neofascists cloaked in cassocks and nationalist kitsch, nor their centrist cousins who toast the same ideas behind closed doors, will save us from this creeping horror.

Only we can.

And let’s not forget the disgraceful episodes involving Vuković and Stanišić – just as we shouldn’t have forgotten the one with Dragan Koprivica. We owe Miloš a sincere, heartfelt embrace for reminding us that yes, there is light at the end of this shameful, dark tunnel – when he shouted: “The homeland is not for sale”.