Despite announcements that the pandemic will knock down its immunity, democracy in Montenegro is holding up well while waiting for another election test. In mild days when only safe votes are counted, the number of patients in the country decreases, and the coronavirus recedes faster than before the Russian vaccine. With the expected growth of pre-election promises, the number of guest workers ready to visit their relatives in their homeland and stand in line at the polls is proportional.
The secretaries of the NKT become flesh and blood people, who hear the draft in the empty state coffers better than the profession. Planes are landing again at Montenegrin airports, while the people of Belgrade are finally catching up with the people of Podgorica from the beaches. Like once upon a time, Serbia and Russia sent tourists with PCR tests in their hands - to save what was left of the summer season. Montenegrins don't even wear masks on their elbows anymore, only their neighbors keep social distance. Under the watchful eye of the party headquarters and sleeping international observers, Montenegro is preparing for another holiday of democracy in which the healthy can vote only under masks, and the sick can vote by letter.
As in the previous election films, the Montenegrin king plays the main role, from billboards to promotional videos where, instead of the prime minister, he goes around the waiting highway. While his subjects are preparing for the winter recession, as always when the party wants, Đukanović is turning from the president of all citizens into the father of a privileged part of the nation. He gives speeches in the yards of houses in the north and rises in the Houses for the first time since the referendum. Like at literary evenings, he sits in front of a select audience and tells fairy tales about big-handed investors who won't have enough people to fill all the jobs. The heir to the throne and ministers tour the field and do not drop shovels and scissors from their hands, while the cities smell of pre-election asphalt. Under masks, like Ali Baba and bandits, they promise towers and cities, while Monstat protects the people from statistics until the post-election summer of Miholy. While the people are waiting for new hotels and roads to spring up in Montenegro, former godfathers eager for change and the rule of law are being resurrected on Instagram. As in some historical spectacle, he speaks mutely and wakes up depressed to ask for changes and forgiveness from God and the people.
While the former leaders tell their memoirs to the Instagram camera, the professor-politician visits churches and monasteries in Montenegro as if on high school field trips, while his new party colleagues trade him shoes for trampling the ungodly. Strong female leaders visit markets in Montenegro, but this time they are not mixing pies. They admire flowers and give advice to voters about the impact of politics on beauty. According to the tried-and-tested recipe, the "peacekeepers" tour Montenegro, argue with the police and treat the citizens with cold juices and beer. The Black and Whites publish letters of support from European MPs, hand out disinfectant wipes, and use press releases to deny party officials who are unfamiliar with history. Minorities again dream of places in the administration and call on the diaspora to help them realize their dreams. Ivan admires the Montenegrin karst and forests and anxiously awaits the counting of votes under Prokletije.
In the meantime, the field recognizes real Montenegrins who bypass the litia even when they like on Facebook. While their chemical bottles are being stolen from their offices, the party guards are ticking off the lucky ones who can hope for their first job in September or at least keep their existing ones when systematization starts. Like Paja and Sinđa, the secret seers from Cetinje, they are asking future voters if they are ready to give their votes and the votes of their families and carry the flag when the victory celebration begins. Party cadres create software for verifying signatures, while their less skilled IT colleagues list safe voters. On the basis of ticked lists, as always before elections, a horoscope for the administration is written by ministries and state-owned companies, in which, for sympathizers of the opposition, retrograde Mercury enters the 12th house of work. Konik brigades prepare thermometers to check uninvited election guests, and party coordinators give motivational speeches for voters who are afraid of an epidemic at the polling station. VD prosecutors are enjoying a well-deserved rest, while cowgirl judges prop their horses on two legs and jump over mountain streams like a shallow Constitution.
And then the election fairy tale will end and the post-election soap opera will begin with the announcement of the winter social drama. The ruling coalition will become as wide as the embrace of the father of the nation, the opposition will first persecute the mangups in its ranks, and then seek forgotten electoral reforms. The church will get its parliamentary club, in the parliament we will watch the performances of proven scandal-masters and wonder how to equip the children for the delayed school year. We will put the masks back on the ashamed faces and pray to all the saints of the NKT not to lock us in our houses again before preparing the winter quarters and the holidays. During that time, Montenegrin democracy will be recovering from another electoral coup and reading the reports of foreign observers. The leaders will strengthen the country's national immunity before a new round of protests, and we will ask ourselves with an empty stomach why we didn't round up anyone in August. At least an empty stomach will be heard, when the mouth is silent anyway.
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