Balkan Shadow of Berlin Celebration

The celebration of the 20th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall is over. Tens of high-ranking foreign visitors, many of whom had nothing to do with the historical development at the time it took place, spoke about the enormous importance of the German unification and the symbolic significance of the event which put the final dot in the history of the Cold War. The truth, however, is that there are parts of Europe where the fall of the Berlin Wall is not regarded as a totally positive change since immediately upon the alleged completion of the bloodless Cold War Europe had to face a proliferation of real armed conflicts.

The widely held view is that the 1989 German unification opened the era of the demise of totalitarian regimes across the continent and ultimately made the creation of the united Europe possible. Numerous private conversations with the residents of the Balkans actually led me to a different conclusion. The disintegration of Yugoslavia — a process that cost thousands of lives – commenced only a year after the demolition of the Berlin Wall, notably, the unified and extremely powerful Germany was one of its drivers. Germany was behind the urgent declaration of independence by Slovenia and Croatia, as well as behind their snap recognition by the international community regardless of the fact that the latter clearly lacked a viable model of coexistence of its Serbian and Croatian populations. Besides, the origin of the ethnic conflict that erupted in Bosnia and Herzegovina in the spring of 1992 can only be grasped if the activity of outside forces is taken into account.

Why did Germany, a country just rebuilt after the traumatic partition imposed on it after World War II, take the active role in the Balkan geopolitical overhaul? Napoleon used to say that every nation’s politics stems from its geography. The concept applies perfectly to the late 1980ies — early 1990ies situation in Europe on the whole and at the Balkans in particular.

It should be realized that following the collapse of the eastern bloc and the unification of the two Germanies Berlin saw itself as the strongest player in Europe and actively sought European leadership over which it traditionally competed with France. US military bases that Germany continued to host in the framework of its international obligations after the withdrawal of the Soviet forces presented the main obstacle in the way of the country’s aspirations. There were indications that Germany hoped to have the problem resolved by shifting the bases to the Balkans, where their existence could be based not on Soviet-era international agreements but on a NATO mandate, and where Germany could be guaranteed a place among the key players. What it needed to make the plan materialize was a serious pretext for the Balkan expansion, and the process including the break-up of Yugoslavia and the emergence of several protracted ethnic conflicts spread over its former territory conveniently provided one. The implementation of the scenario began in Slovenia and Croatia, where, due to historic reasons, the German influence was deeply rooted. Already in the 1980ies the German intelligence service had strong positions in Slovenia and especially in Croatia as various émigré nationalist and extremist groups it sponsored gradually made inroads into the administrations. German advisers and NGO envoys flocked to Croatia in numbers in 1989-1990. It was due to their activity that eventually the republic became the scene of the first armed clashes in the former Yugoslavia, which scared even the no less active US representatives.

In May, 1990 Croatia’s First President Fanjo Tudman introduced a new constitution (put together largely under German advisers‘ supervision) via the parliament dominated by pro-independence forces. It proclaimed that Croatia was a national state of the Croats and other peoples inhabiting it rather than, as formulated previously, the state of the Croatian and Serbian peoples as well as of others inhabiting it. The legal subtlety automatically left Serbs who used to be a state-forming nation in the position of a minority. Discontent with the downgrade, Serbs launched a referendum of their own in August 1990, during which, however, their response was limited to asserting their right to sovereignty and autonomy within Croatia. Secession was not on the agenda, but the Croatian government nevertheless resorted to force to prevent the referendum from taking place, and the moment marked the onset of the armed conflict in the republic.

Serbs of Croatia offered a political solution even after the incident. On September 30, 1990 the Serbian National Council proclaimed the autonomy of the Serbian people on the ethnic and historical territories they inhabited within Croatia as a member of Yugoslavia, but Zagreb’s course agreed with German advisers remained unchanged. The new Croatian constitution entered into force on December 22, and the very next day the neighboring Slovenia called an independence referendum during which 94% of the ballots were cast in favor of separation from Yugoslavia. Interestingly, over the weeks preceding the enactment of Tudman’s constitution Washington kept calling the Croatian leaders to exercise restraint and to avoid steps prone with an armed escalation. Still, Berlin’s influence prevailed, and German advisers managed to convince their Croatian protégées to act resolutely. On May 19, 1991 the Croatian administration held a referendum with over 94% of those who went to the polling booths opting for immediate secession. The Serbs of Croatia did not attend, and Germany assisted by Vatican promptly ensured the European recognition of the two new independent countries. Soon Sarajevo followed the suit, massive fighting swept across the Balkans, NATO got the desired pretext for intervention, and Germany emerged as the key force in the new European geopolitical architecture.

Praising the German unification, we should not forget how the fall of the Berlin Wall cast a shadow over other countries and their peoples.

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A Tale of Two Subversives


A Tale of Two Subversives
Battling Christophobia in California and Serbia

by Srdja Trifkovic

The intention of postmoderns to destroy real people, with their natural loyalties, traditional morality, and inherited cultural preferences, is the same everywhere. Its specific manifestations may be different in the United States and Serbia—the homes of our two interlocutors and my good friends—but the underlying motivation is identical. It is Christophobia, the incubator of countless secondary pathologies that are imposed and celebrated on both sides of the Atlantic under the label of diversity. Having suffered countless disasters and progressive disintegration during the modern era, how may Christian civilization be effectively revived? “For true-blooded Western conservatives, this is the overarching question of their political life,” says Greg Davis, as we savor boutique vodkas in downtown Santa Monica. “Conservatives are forever trying to get back to something better, sounder, nobler, truer. But how far back? A decade, a century—a millennium?”

I met Greg five years ago, while he was producing and directing the must-see documentary Islam: What the West Needs to Know. He is a soft-spoken convert to Orthodoxy, in his mid-30’s, with a Ph.D. in political science from Stanford and an abiding sense that our civilization is collapsing. Western conservatives, he says, are hoping to save the key institution of the West—namely, Christianity—but Christianity did not originate in the West, and therein lies the crux of the matter: “The development of the West since 1054, in opposition to the Orthodox East, was a revolutionary act. The West, at its core, is revolutionary; hence the shouting of our conservatives for history to stop, while intermittently effective in slowing the slide, has proven vain. The West’s defining act was the fundamental innovation of the filioque. The fruit of the schism was apparent in successive heresies and rebellions, which led to the wars of religion that would kill millions and tear Europe apart. Later subversives would translate the revolutionary logic into decidedly unchristian contexts such as the French and Bolshevik revolutions, with monstrous results.”

While the unraveling of Western Christianity has been under way for a thousand years, it gained a new head of steam in our time. With Vatican II, Greg says, Roman traditionalists were dealt a tremendous blow, and they are still suffering its consequences. Meanwhile, “The more traditionally minded Protestant denominations are now sprinting toward Sodom, while the newer ‘Bible churches,’ holding the line somewhat more effectively on the moral front, show themselves very much of this world in their Dionysian revels featuring ‘Christian’ rock music and self-help philosophies about how to succeed in the world of mammon without really trying. The job of shoring up what remains of traditional Western Christianity is, needless to say, not getting any easier.”

Orthodoxy, on the other hand, does not lend itself to the political realm, precisely because its kingdom is not of this world. It is impossible to turn Orthodoxy into a “movement” in the modern political sense, yet the Orthodox view on most political issues today largely tracks the views of traditional Roman Catholics and Protestants, in spite of their theological and ecclesiological differences: “Even in a decidedly Protestant and “revolutionary” country such as the United States, the Orthodox easily recognize the practical wisdom embodied in a document such as the Constitution and its principle of limited government. They are more than anyone averse to the deification of political figures and of the state that has been the bane of the modern era. But they are by nature ill-adapted to navigating the turbulent waters of modern politics, which grow ever more frenzied and anti-Christian.”

The Orthodox countries still outside the Western orbit have shown themselves routinely outclassed in the geopolitical great game to extend U.S.-style materialism and “democracy” to the far reaches of the galaxy. Davis points out how the Serbs have consistently underestimated the malevolence of U.S.-led designs on their country and culture, and how Russia naively undertook a series of Western-inspired “reforms” in the 1990’s that devastated the country: “Now, however, Russia is pulling herself together. Vladimir Putin, regularly portrayed in Western media as a cross between Nicholas I and Darth Vader, refuses to let his people commit suicide along the lines of Western Europe, which continues to renew its vote of no confidence in itself. With the ancient enemy of both Western and Eastern Christianity, Islam, once again making inroads into both, Western conservatives should see Russia and Orthodox civilization generally as a natural ally. Yet prominent conservatives continue to support the U.S.-led prosecution of Russia. Their support for an ever-expanding NATO, for the missile shield, and for Western-sponsored color-coded revolutions is the support for a revolutionary power that recognizes no limit to its hegemony.”

During the Cold War, it was still possible to regard the West, the adversary of revolutionary communism, as a netconservative force in the world, but no longer. Western, and especially American, conservatives are now in the illogical position of defending the actions of the world’s leading revolutionary power. For Western conservatives to remain “conservative,” Davis concludes, they must be willing to support the cause of the few genuinely conservative forces left in the world—namely, those Orthodox nations still willing and able to resist indefinite Western cultural and geopolitical expansion.

Bosko Obradovic is a Serb of Greg Davis’s age who is resisting both prongs of that expansion. He is one of the founders and leaders of Dveri (The Doors,, a Belgrade-based NGO distinguished from most others by two key facts: It does not get a penny from George Soros, and in its many social and cultural endeavors it seeks the blessing of the Serbian Orthodox Church and spiritual guidance from its hierarchs. Bosko is a philosophy and literature graduate in his mid-30’s, a teacher, librarian, and father of three. He was in the news recently for making a key contribution to the cancelation of the planned “gay-pride” parade in downtown Belgrade: “The organizers had everything lined up. The government of Serbia was supporting them because the ruling Democratic Party thought this was one way to show to Brussels that we are progressive enough for E.U. membership. All of the major media, all of the Western-funded NGOs, and countless fashionably enlightened public figures were on their side. This was supposed to be yet another proof of Serbia’s terminal fall, its readiness to sell its soul for the elusive ‘European integration.’”

In the end the parade was called off because of security concerns. Its organizers were offered another location, but they rejected it. This, Bosko says, indicates their real agenda: They did not merely want to march; they wanted to provoke. “Their goal had never been to protect anyone’s ‘human rights’ or to protest ‘discrimination.’ Their goal was to promote a clearly defined ideology, lifestyle, and value system, and symbolically to impose it on Belgrade and on Serbia by taking over, however briefly, the old city center. Their objective was also to assert their political power as a privileged and protected group that promotes modernity. Their goal was to inflict a devastating blow on the traditional spiritual, moral, and cultural code, to present it as marginal, obsolete, and doomed to die out. Last but not least, calling the event off amidst a blaze of publicity was a call to their sponsors to continue and even increase their largesse, because the job is not done: Serbia is still its ugly, reactionary old self.”

Bosko and his friends have been called some nasty names since the parade was canceled in mid-September. There have been calls for a ban on Dveri, supposedly for violating recently enacted “antidiscrimination” legislation, which was drafted completely in accordance with E.U. guidelines. He says attacks are “a compliment to all of us who are determined not to give up on the value system that has kept our people alive through the centuries.” He is nevertheless concerned about the future: “We appear to be well on the way to 2084, when totalitarian NGO types will impose their blueprint for the eradication of our traditional spiritual, moral, and national identity. The NGO elite claims to act for and on behalf of ‘the West’ and enjoys the status of protected species, but no such protection will be extended to anyone if they have their way. Our “democracy” is heading for the abolition of the freedom to think differently from the high priests of Western postmodernity. Just look at the media treatment of Metropolitan Amfilohije, our acting Patriarch, for daring to quote the Scripture on sodomy! Is it not paradoxical? The Orthodox Church and all other mainstream religious communities in Serbia are asked to refrain from stating their position on this issue because doing so makes them liable to prosecution for advocating ‘intolerance.’”

Bosko Obradovic sees the problem in clear-cut terms. Either the Church will speak Her mind clearly and without euphemistic evasiveness, or else She will lose the purpose of Her existence as the saving community based on faith and the teaching of two millennia: “The Church as a whole and individual Christians are expected to refrain from taking a position if it does not conform to the standards of acceptable discourse as proclaimed by those who are not Christians, or—to be more precise—who are determined anti-Christians. Of course, Metropolitan Amfilohije and other bishops did not have any choice: Rather than ignore the intended moral and cultural onslaught, they spoke out clearly and authoritatively. Their authority comes from the Scripture and the Fathers, not from our ‘pro-E.U.’ government, or the ‘progressive’ NGOs, or their foreign mentors. They also condemned all forms of hate and violence, in accordance with the Christian principles, but they, and we, cannot accept a self-isolation that can only end in criminalizing any open profession of our faith.”

Bosko believes that the exclusion of the Orthodox Church from Serbia’s social and cultural life remains the final goal of the parade’s organizers and sponsors. He points out that the chorus of condemnation and indignant disgust against Metropolitan Amfilohije came simultaneously from the usual standard-bearers of “all progressive humanity”—Helsinki human-rights groups, sociology professors, foreign-sponsored “independent analysts,” Soros-financed media outlets—and all had a common accusation: By daring to mention Sodom and Gomorrah, Metropolitan Amfilohije is “objectively” condoning violence and promoting discrimination. Ergo he is guilty of practicing violence and discrimination, of inspiring “far-right groups and all other extremists”: “Their goal is to force the Church into internal exile, just like under communism. This goal is the raison d’etre of many NGOs in Serbia. They always react swiftly and indignantly when the Church adopts a position, treating it as something inherently illegitimate. The Metropolitan’s scriptural reference threw them into rage, as witnessed by the media conglomerate B92, which has assumed the role of ideological prosecutors and star chamber. His reminder that ‘the tree that bears no fruit is cut down’ was twisted in the best tradition of the French Revolution and Bolshevism.”

So what should be a believer’s position on homosexuality—or, for that matter, on any number of postmodernity’s sacred cows? Bosko Obradovic concludes that on this and every other social and political issue of our time, a distinct Christian position can and should be developed: “My faith does not allow it, and I do not want to mistreat, threaten, or discriminate against anyone. At the same time I am obliged to confess my faith, to bring up my children and to contribute to my society in accordance with what has been passed on to me—even if this means suffering legal punishment at the hands of the state.”

That punishment is coming soon to America and Europe alike, and Christians like Greg Davis and Bosko Obradovic are ready for it. They know that the earthly and temporal powers of the state can and should be recognized as imperative only to the degree that they are used to support good and limit evil. In America and Serbia alike, they both agree, a Christian may obey state laws only if such obedience does not demand apostasy or sin. We do not know which of my two friends will be the first to endure martyrdom, but I fear that both will. ¤

Srdja Trifkovic is the author of Defeating Jihad and The Sword of the Prophet.

Колико пута сам себи поставила питање да ли Србима треба други непријатељ сем непријатеља којег носе у себи? Боже, колико пута? – Prica M2-Z

Колико пута сам себи поставила питање да ли Србима треба други непријатељ сем непријатеља којег носе у себи? Боже, колико пута?

Пре 13 година напустила сам свој родни град, своју покрајину и преселила се у матицу Србије. И када сам била срећна, и тужна, и када сам била човек, и мали човек, и када сам сигурно корачала улицама свог града јер ме је новац у џепу сигурном чинио, и када сам са бременом корачала јер ме је празнина џепа секла као и хладноћа празне пећине, у свом граду сам била срећна. Волела сам сваку коцку његове калдрме, волела их и онда када су их асфалтом прекрили. Најлепше снове сам сањала и у стварност претварала седећи на обали и посматрајући тврђаву историје, вапај Варадина.

Онда је дошао тренутак да га напустим. Стиснутих капака да вид бол не понесе, да бол на стази одласка не остане, прешла сам моћну реку и ка Србији се упутила.

Само онај ко губи љубав из срца свог, онај који испушта душу пред стопама корака својих, зна да су неме и болне речи кад дође тренутак да се губитак одласка опише. Али отишла сам и ишла даље.

Да ли се окренути, река се још уназат може прећи? Не, оплакаћу то једном. Пресушиће сузе. Умориће се и из мене усахнути, мораш кренути даље?

Стигла сам у Србију. У град са сангом и будућношћу. Стигла сам међу свој народ, у једну целину и вечну заједницу. И ту у срцу своје нације доживела осећај туђинца, надимак дођоша. И ту у срцу своје нације доживела највеће патње истонационалног вређања, исмевања и осуде да од нас који долазе, они морају да одлазе.

Питала сам се зашто то свој своме чини, па расла сам у вишенационалној заједници и нисмо се гурали, нисмо се вређали? Зашто Србин Србину то чини?

Ишла сам мислима дубоко у време иза себе. Присетила сам се тренутка када су моји суграђани рушили власт и тиме дали подршку Србима са Косова. Још увек памтим слику да сам на раменима држала свог сина од три године, и преговарала са полицајцима, некад својим школским друговима, да раздвоје снагу својих редова и да нас пусте да уђемо у палату власти. Памтим још увек сузе у њиховим очима, жал да стану на страну својих суграђана и страх да службу не издају. Мојим венама још увек тече сок истине, пале су моје речи на њихове душе, раздвојили су редове, повукли ме иза себе са дететом у рукама, и већ следећег тренутка река народне снаге је освојила палату власти.

Сећам се несрећног рата на простору Југославије. Колико сам људи збринула. Колико сам хране за ратна подручија скупила. Сећам се ноћи пред дах рата, болнице на хрватској страни града, једини Срби у болници мој брат пред вратима смрти и ја са његовом главом у мом крилу. И тај дах злогласног рата, и та неизвесност да можда баш сад почне, није угрозио моју жељу да напустим своју слободну територију и да се пребацим до хрватског града где ме је болом дозивао брат у страху умирања. И не могу да се не сетим своје уплакане главе на рамену хрватског лекара, када је покушавао да ме одвоји од умрлог брата. У том сећању морам да се сетим и бриге хрватских лекара да ме у току ноћи безбедно пребаце на српску страну. И они као и ја нису желели да до рата дође. На месту раздвајања града на две националне половине, пољубили смо се као своји, и моје питање „ако до рата дође зар ћете убијати“, дотакнуто је било руком утехе „опрости нам, сви ћемо морати бити уз своје“.

Сећам се ’93. године, преко Дрине рат пламеном бесни, на српској страни инфлација опстанак гази. Одвајала сам од полунахрањених уста своје деце и месила, кувала, довијала се ка морању да се од уста својих одвоји и у прихватилишта однесе. Нисам гледала да ли храним српска уста, или уста мањине.

Сећам се жене која је плакала на вратима катедрале. У пролазу сам осетила бол њеног плача. Застала сам и питала је зашто толико плаче. Рекла је „изгубила сам сина“. Мисао ми пролете „можда је и он као добровољац отишао са својима да ратује?“. Слагах је да сам и ја католкиња и да може све да ми каже. Охрабљена мојом „истином“ рекла је „из Загреба смо се преселили пре 10 година, супруг је морао због службе. Син ми је отишао нашима и погинуо је на ратишту“. Корак по корак развило се наше дружење. Сазнала сам да је пре рата постала удовица. Живи сад сама. Време нашег дружења је текло. Мајка ко мајка, отргла се болу и кренула даље. Када је дошао тренутак да истину чује, рекла сам „не зовем се Мрија…, желела сам да ти у боли помогнем па ми на лажи опрости…“

Освртала сам се на све стране српског простора око себе и питала се „колико бих страна била да сам међу странце отишла?“ Како је коме од мештана тешко било, тако је то њихово тешко морало да нађе кривца међу нама дођошима. Њихове речи су болеле и мене, а колико су тек болеле људе који су ношени ратом своје напуштали и принудом опстанка у Србију долазили.

Корачала сам даље. Ношена мислима да сам својом слободном вољом овде дошла, да избегла нисам, и да јесам, јаче бих секла њихове речи нетрпељивог подсмеха, „натерала“ их да ме се прођу јер нико ниге дођош није. Земља није ничија лична тапија својине.

Таман када сам помислила да је све то иза мене, да ме је дођошко време петворило у станарско право њиховог суграђанина, покрајина је решила да се осамостали. Кривац у некоме мора да се нађе. Стиснутог бола да ми се колевка постојања од државе цепа, терала сам себе да не оплакујем оно што није изгбљено мојом вољом, ни казном за недела душом чињена, затворених мисли о детету које ми тамо самостално живи, доживела сам да казна покрајинсе самосталности мора да се баци мени у лице.

Савесно мирно сам обављала своје радне обавезе. Канцеларија испуњена странкама. Врата се отварају и улази угледан грађанин, у малом граду знан свима. Износи свој разлог доласка, и не сачекавши да му одговорим, поглед зауставља на слику на зиду. „Који је ово град“, пита иако зна. Одговарам му. „Шта ће ова слика овде“, лажном шаљивошћу пита даље. Рекох му „ради љубави и носталгије“. „Ха, скинућемо је да је понесеш када те пошаљемо назат као дар ваше самосталности“, окренуо се ка мени, осмехом кроз зубе ме поздравио и отишао даље.

Да ли Србима треба други непријатељ сем непријатеља у себи?…