Montenegrins and Politics

Montenegrins and Politics

By Miodrag Vlahović

The end of August will mark the sixth anniversary of political changes in Montenegro.

Long ago—well before that dramatic year of 2020—we wrote (in vain, of course!) that change was necessary, logical, and inevitable… but that the central question was from which side it would come, and with what platform, parties, and people.

“Montenegro should be changed by those who respect and love it” still sounds like a fine slogan today—yet, evidently, it is impossible and inapplicable.

Montenegro is being changed in the wrong direction. Ethno-federalization—that euphemism for the brutal tearing apart of our country along ethnic and religious seams—is in full swing.

The collaborationist Bosniak Party and the coalition Albanian parties are singing in unison with the Greater-Serbian parties—servants and pawns of Serbian intelligence agencies and the Church of Serbia.

Let no one be misled by the latest struggle for supremacy within the so-called “Serb bloc”: it is merely friction within the same worldview, within the same project. One [Spajić’s] uncle or the other, a clash between two truncated metropolitans, squabbling among Serb pawns …

We do not exclude PES from this either—let there be no mistake—for Spajić’s party is a collection of individuals lacking ideology or a defined plan, yet operating under the control of the same intelligence agencies and the same church. Their policy is clear: grab as much as you can, while you can! Ask no questions about the rest, or simply refuse to state an opinion—much like one of their leading figure did just the other day before Members of the European Parliament, refusing to risk antagonizing duke Mandić …

And Mandić is the boss; meanwhile, the Velje Brdo project, airport and other tenders, and the highways represent the (temporary) price of a coalition with that hodgepodge known as PES—or with that “political amalgam”, if that sounds better.

The European agenda serves as a cover for processes dismantling, negating, and destroying everything Montenegrin—ranging from cultural and traditional matters, through institutions and the rule of law, to personnel appointments. While the execution appears chaotic and clumsy—marked by countless scandals, blatant abuses of power, and unlawful actions—the ultimate outcome is highly effective: a scenario devoid of Montenegro, of the Montenegrin identity, and of Montenegrins themselves—in every sense of the words, whether civic or national—without exception.

There is not a single Montenegrin in the Government: it is comprised entirely of “half-breeds,” ideological Serbs, Serbian nationalists, collaborators and pawns of political and intelligence circles in Belgrade, and protégés of the Church of Serbia … along with collaborators who claim to speak “on behalf of their people”!

Six years and three “August” governments have passed, yet the Montenegrin opposition has no answer to a situation with no end in sight.

Inert in its approach—with rare exceptions—and devoid of new ideas (of which there are exactly as many as there are Montenegrins in the executive branch!), the Montenegrin opposition simply waits.

(An exception, of course, is the recent opposition Platform, which—after some struggle and wrangling—was transformed into an agreement between the ruling coalition and the opposition. Now, it must be implemented consistently, without exception or compromise. The European agenda is a joint undertaking. Commissioner Kos and Ambassador Sattler are aware of this, too—or so we hope.)

The largest opposition party could—hoping not to be misunderstood, though experience suggests that is unfortunately almost certain—compare, in the absence of other acceptable methods, the resonance of its honorary president’s latest activities with the impact of everything else the young “leadership” is doing. They are incomparable.

Support percentages in numerous polls show a steady trend or record slight growth—which, barring dramatic changes on the currently dominant side, ultimately falls short in both quality and quantity regarding the need for a forty-first parliamentary seat.

There is also an evident effort—originating from the party’s formal leadership—to curry favor with certain European quarters by employing old-yet-new rhetoric; after all, the DPS is not against European integration. As if that were ever in question. That cheap trick continues to have repercussions.

Yet, the DPS continues to “prove” it has reformed, while the PES keeps telling them they haven’t—and, evidently, never will as long as the PES exists. Milo Đukanović will be held to blame for as long as he lives.

This is logical for several reasons, and it highlights the utter hollowness of current politics in Montenegro. The 2027 election campaigns of the parties currently in power will demonstrate this: settling scores with the former administration is the easiest path to take.

On the other hand, the smaller opposition faction has its limitations: they are aware of the need for change but—by all appearances—unprepared to take radical steps. It is easier to stick to well-trodden paths, of course, even if those paths simply go in circles. For now, there is speculation regarding certain (“new”) names; to accept these figures as representing a fundamentally new political approach, the electorate would need to either employ “selective amnesia” or significantly increase its dose of naivety.

Both the largest party and the smaller ones show a lack of interest in formulating a new national/state-level program. Or, worse yet, they believe it is of no importance at all. This reduces their politics to a form of retail trading—calculating who will transfer already secured votes to whom, and how. It is a serious and costly mistake.

Such reasoning prevents them from challenging the Bosniak Party (a fact Ibrahimović and his associates fully exploit, supporting—now practically on command—whatever Andrija Mandić maps out for them) or the Albanian parties (except when N. Gjeloshaj goes too far in his nationalist fervor). This is poor, shortsighted policy—especially since, as we reiterate, less than a year remains until the elections.

The “most Montenegrin” of Montenegrin media outlets fit perfectly into this picture. To put it briefly: viewership ratings below one percent, the constant recycling of stale arguments and topics, and the boycotting of “unsuitable” voices. It is monotonous. The Montenegrin opposition lost the media battle long ago.

Montenegrin politics is thus caught in a six-year state of inertia—stagnant, lacking fresh momentum, and stuck in a tedious rut ​​where a torn state flag on a public building causes more of a stir—it bears repeating—than the major, uncomfortable questions surrounding the actions of the Government and the Chetnik duke in Parliament. There are simply too many taboo subjects.

Unless something dramatic happens in the next ten months (and in Montenegro, the most dramatic scenario is the failure to pay salaries and pensions—for at least two months), we will witness the same old fruitless wrangling, toothless “protests,” and a monotonous opposition struggle. And, on top of it all, “political correctness.”

If, in the end, this deliberate monotony and inertia somehow yield a miraculous opposition victory, we will be pleased. Results always matter more than theories and hypotheses.

However, if the outcome is merely a continuation of this destructive status quo, Montenegro will need a new kind of politics—new ideas and the people capable of championing them. That would be logical, politically necessary, and historically inevitable.

Our opposition figures are fully aware of this. At least some of them are, we hope.•