Marathoners

Under the two beams of Ostroška/Marathon is angry and fights...

Local elections in Nikšić in recent years have traditionally aroused the need for non-standard rhetoric, mostly of an epic nature - the type Battle for Nikšić - so it's nothing new for the election weeks to turn into a festival of all sorts of nonsense.

Whether Ostroh Half Marathon a regular athletic event or part of the current election campaign in Nikšić... Wait. Wait, come back a bit - Ostroški half marathon, what is that?

I know about the Ostroh Assembly in 1942, it is a bright page of Montenegrin history, I have also heard about the Ostroh treasure, and there is also a darker page of history - the Ostroh agreement between politicians and Amphilochius... But this half marathon is a completely new thing for me, even though the organizers say it's an old and long-standing race.

If someone wanted to make fun of the upcoming election, this would actually be the perfect way to do it. Why? This word - Marathoners (even in the half marathon version) unmistakably evokes the legendary dramatic text Academician Dušan Kovačević "Marathoners Run a Lap of Honor" which most people probably know thanks to the great movie of the same name Slobodan Šijan.

It is precisely the spirit of that black comedy - the characters, the events, the village madness, the explosive frustration, the two bloodied families - that all perfectly resembles today's Nikšić city and its political elite... Don't the current Nikšić champions resemble Kovačević's characters, and that's without the intention of caricaturing things. On the contrary, naked realism. Đenka to Đenka...

But, if you will allow it, someone over fifty must be astonished - isn't Nikšić the most precise diary of the decline of Montenegro and its economy? Isn't that city the most brutal reminder of the effect and spirit of transition in Montenegro? Wouldn't that be a real wake-up call? I mean, surely the pre-election days in Nikšić could be marked by much more meaningful discussions and more rational tones?

However, when it comes to Nikšić, somehow it all started in a sign of political perversion and irrationality that is difficult to explain... To some, all of this might seem just bizarre if we didn't see the consequences to this day, all around us. If this isn't worthy of Kovačević's dramatic plots, we don't know what is. (Headed by the writer's surname.)

Let us recall, that is an episode that many have gladly forgotten, including the Count of Kočani. The year 1989, the so-called Hunger Rally in Nikšić (and the average salary was 1500 marks). Yes, I am thinking of the eerie political cry from that year, 1989 (and which has gained its full meaning in recent years) from the main square of Nikšić, where 20.000 people were shouting: “We want the Russians”... It seems to me that the echo of that cry still rings today.

It's also interesting - I don't believe that in 1989 (the year the Berlin Wall fell), it was possible to gather so many people in the middle of Moscow to shout - We want Russians. But here it was clearly possible.

And a spectacular “extraction.” Namely, since that message was too much even for Yugoslavia Milošević events of the people, then they would expound by announcing that the people were actually eager for music, and not for a Russian view of the world and presence. That is, that they shouted - We want a fiddle. (By the way, the political message of such a cry would be even worse... and that's what we got. Not long after this rally, the "extermination of Turks" began in Bosnia, accompanied by the gentle sounds of the gusal, of course. It goes without saying that these things are inseparable - like coffee and sour cream...)

And now, suddenly, in Nikšić and its surroundings - marathon runners. As we can see, this race began a long time ago.

Like Kovačević's characters in Marathoners a world outside of time, a cocooned palanka that wages its own ridiculous and senseless (but no less bloody) wars, wasn't this Nikšić square from 1989 a worthy announcement of just such a thing - an exit from (its) time... Into myth and irrationality of all colors.

I'm afraid this marathon won't end either - without the gusla.

Just let it be without Russians, if possible...