What would happen if a Montenegrin Charlie Hebdo appeared on the newsstands on January 7? Here I am coming up with an ad hoc caricature for the front page of that hypothetical newspaper. For example, St. Vasilije Ostroški in mountaineering gear, attached by ropes to the rock above the upper monastery, is trying to escape, while a column of Audis and Mercedes cars is approaching on the winding road from Bogetić. Under the drawing it should say - It's Hard Being Loved by Jerks.
How would the public react to such a pamphlet in a country where Christmas is celebrated with dynamite? There probably wouldn't be an organized manhunt until one of the clergy or politicians blew the horn. Nothing happens spontaneously and by chance, even if all religions say so in unison. Killings in the name of god are always ordered from some point of self-interest. A group of fanatics shoot for political goals, and God is an alibi to justify the crime. These days it needs to be repeated over and over and keep Muhammad and Jesus away from the scene of the crime.
It is possible that the journalists of Charlie Hebdo wrote the epitaph knowing that two madmen would someday arrive at their doorstep. That kind of commitment to an idea causes discomfort in most people, because these are zones of responsibility that the common man on his ass rarely visits. Who cares about cartoons and lunatics ready to die for a piece of paper. In a world where a media bomb like ISIL explodes overnight, when you are unable to see through the background of the violence, fear is normal and drawing a religious caricature is tantamount to an act of sacrifice. It is difficult to imagine such forms of sacrifice in Montenegro, it is even rude to imagine them in a country where the most promising young politician wears a rosary.
So does the Paris Bloody Week have anything to do with us? Who are we Paris? While the Kuaši brothers were loading their rifles, on Orthodox Christmas Eve, dynamite thundered on the outskirts of Podgorica. O beautiful customs, O mild days! The taxi driver tells me - just so you know, every house should have at least one rifle. You think Muslims don't? They are all armed. And Malesia, one day, you will see, there it will burst.
That's what the taxi driver says and rushes home to light the oak tree with his family. Before that, they will watch TV newscasts that begin with reports from the Christmas tree burning. Glory to the heroes of the French newspaper Charlie Hebdo; in my country, editors are the people who start news shows with depictions of church rituals. Journalists are clucking at Cetinje and waiting for Amfilohije to "deliver" something, so that the spent editorial fuel and time can get some sort of meaning.
No one admits that Christmas parties are not a media event but a media symptom of a post-war society that is still looking for a political lesson around the fire. Without an editorial context, without analysis, let alone satire, the media largely legitimizes the political language of priests. The term of the majority church has been struck, inviolable, and it is a legacy of the time when the same church blessed the slaughter.
The journalistic profession in Montenegro is on the wane and gives credibility to the religious understanding of the world, which is not a mandate written in the journalistic code. Dear viewers, Christ is risen! says the editor of the state daily. Although I remember that seminar episode very well, I will not reveal the name of the journalist who, once on the Slovenian Riviera, did not want to set foot in a Catholic church alive. With regret, I remind you that the newspaper "Dan" sold icons under the sticker "sanctified" on St. Nicholas' Day. Faith is a sure source of income in times of crisis. Church calendar, fasting cook - means the printed circulation of all newspapers in Montenegro. The media lacks money, politicians lack influence - they find both with a little religious marketing, under the auspices of the mother church.
The consequences are deadly, and anyone who has heard how horny junfers or criminals fight in Ostrog Kun knows that. In perspective, further collapse of the spiritual, while the high priests turn faith into media manipulation. I am referring to Orthodox and Muslim leaders who are up to their necks in political agitation. Raw dogma or the silence of religious leaders in Montenegro justifies violence in the name of God, that is, unreasonable violence, which we could see at the pride parades, which were a demonstration of collective education, a demonstrative exercise.
Does anyone remember at least one event where a priest, a friar and an imam worked together on something good. Have these people ever done something together, laughed and said - we are brothers, we love this life and hope for eternal life. I don't remember such a message. Do you think that is a coincidence, dear reader. Of course not, religious organizations try to maintain ethical monopoly and interfaith tension. Being stuck within folkloric patterns guarantees a submissive herd that keeps a boundary in relation to the other herd. Recently I found out, a strange example, how Reis Fejzić ignores the festivities of the tiny Jewish community in Montenegro. What a pearl, what a diplomat, he is not naive like the imam of Pljevlja who likes coffins.
Charlie Hebdo is not as far from Montenegro as it seems, as religious leaders maintain the tribe's readiness to attack. Just tighten up the caricature from the beginning, draw Saint Basil counting banknotes, and you're already a legitimate target. Metropolitan Amfilochia in the bass clef would be the first to stand up in defense of the sanctuary, then some assembly tenor would express his personal disagreement. Who would actually moderate the public debate before the lynching? The same inconsiderate snobs that spent a century inciting. Such is our public discourse, and it's no wonder that in the suburbs an army of guys is forming who, with pious whispers, light candles with candles, praying to some deranged, violent god, similar to the one that kills cartoonists and celebrates death. Au revoir Montenegro.
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