If it was full of strategists and visionaries, and not dubious experts and saboteurs of the former government, the government would send a prime minister to Cetinje instead of police and excavators. Ministers would be calmly preparing for lunch in Šipčanik, military helicopters would be stationary, and the state would not be firing tear gas and rubber bullets at a time when belts are being tightened everywhere. As when he was laying down with the corona on his feet, Professor Prime Minister would resolutely stand in front of the Comite barricades without security or body armor. He would dissolve the piles of used tires on the Belvedere like Moses the Red Sea, gather the quarreling brothers and turn them into a blessed electorate.
Instead of the police divided between the kingdoms of heaven and earth, he would approach the retired Philip, take him by the hand and lead him to the monastery. That like two political righteous people they reconcile Montenegro, while the sun of freedom shines from the Orlovi Karst, and the Veljović-Bošković disappear in an instant like Đukanović from the City Tavern. Before our eyes, a transformed Montenegro would be built in which believers sometimes behave like citizens while spending a salary of one thousand euros.
Because the professor-prime minister has already shown the people that miracles are possible in Montenegro, even after the defeat of the famous school of miracle workers from the right bank of Morača. When ministers in the white world were looking for vaccines as the Holy Grail, the Prime Minister promoted immunization with prayer. While anti-vaxxers were being invited to enter discotheques, the prime minister defended himself against the vaccine with antibodies and kissed his hands and cheeks. With open borders, he revived tired Montenegrin tourism and handed out bottles of oil to citizens like DPS soldiers before the elections.
When he was already unable to move hills as much as special prosecutors, he introduced cats with Facebook recommendations, stronger than the diplomas of Med and Moma Koprivica, into ministerial offices. He defended the bread prices as a committee for Montenegro and forgave the disaffected coalition partners - by opening up the administration in depth. He pacified the indebted airlines and prepared new ones for the crowded death bed of Montenegrin losers.
On the way to the transformation of Montenegro, the prime minister showed himself mostly by performing political miracles, although politics is not his branch as much as Molotov cocktails. Instead of political veterans, he enthroned experts, ready to one day become the leaders of some god-pleasing party. He let former collaborators down the drain more easily than Kazan's mistresses, and promised citizens reforms, just like the signing of the Fundamental Agreement to the Church. After years of reigning in harsh words and raised eyebrows, he introduced folk proverbs and the language of the gospel into the government and parliament.
At public gatherings, he promoted the Prime Minister's tear, whose power is moving the civil party to the right or at least bringing them to the brink of breaking. Showed that not even in the Balkans every prime minister is Batman, but there is also some Bruce Wayne who modestly walks down the street in a church dress and carries a bag full of greens. The prime minister embodied the Montenegrin political ideal in which one man has Slavko's lucidity, Milo's stubbornness and Momir's smile of a good neighbor.
But the prime minister's greatest miracle is the resurrection of the former government, which had been dying for months in hidden cabinets and selected bars. With the help of some coalition partners, he managed to invigorate the arch-enemies with the cup of division and gave them the power to turn cohabitation into open war. Political deceased and retired police officers became heroes - instead of sitting under the sprinklers at the Budućnosti stadium last fall. In the transformed Montenegro, he concluded a system in which the police seize cocaine smugglers - but after one call from the king from the neighborhood, its deserving bosses fall easily.
A year after the refresher, they ask again who told us to come to Konik, while religious rights are defended with armored blankets instead of the Constitution. Enthronements and local elections are announcements of civil war, and the political scene looks like a tabloid in which coalition members divorce like famous celebrity couples. In this kind of Montenegro, neighbors hate each other again, while everyone together is looking for guarantors to go to the supermarket.
This is why, if he really plans to transform Montenegro, Professor Prime Minister will have to pull a few more miracles. Because the people, even if blessed like this, will not be helped for long by tears and straining in front of the cameras. It's just not enough to justify that the critics on duty only put a cross on his back and blame him for what his predecessors were not.
Because by the will of the heavens or the voters, Prime Minister Zdravko accepted to lead a company in bankruptcy that was dragged out for thirty years by the fathers of the nation and the godfathers of liberal capitalism. And to begin with, it would be a good idea for him, as a bankruptcy administrator, not to quarrel between the workers and the brave old management, when he is already not in a position to immediately lead us to the green branch. If he has spent all his miracles, let him retire with the father of the nation, and a transformed Montenegro will look for a new messiah in the elections.
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