[LAW – GREGOVIĆ (Dušan)]
Diplomats, who managed foreign affairs of Montenegro, came into daily working contact with diplomatic business, and owe a lot to the law and legal side of diplomatic work. Not all of them are equally committed to the influence of law on diplomacy, nor to the place of law in diplomatic communication. There are gradations. Some are more, some less oriented towards the indivisibility of international relations on the one hand, and rights on the other, and this interactive orientation is stronger when the state is stronger: among the late Petrovićs, that is, their diplomatic officials. The number of classical lawyers, at the same time career diplomats, is smaller - one of them is Dušan Gregović, Minister of Foreign Affairs in 1911-1912. Mr.
Gregović, who studied law in Constantinople, and went through all the career steps in the service (first secretary of the ministry, consul in Shkodër, while Lazar Tomanović was a minister, later consul in Constantinople, negotiator of border disputes with Turkey, etc.) appears after the legal discontinuity, lawlessness and chaos, where the voice of law is either weakly heard or absent - a century-long legal drought in the Balkans.
The influence of law was visible earlier, in the eras before the generation of Gavr Vuković and Dušan Gregović, only in Boka Kotorska, a province subordinate to the Venetian judiciary. And there, in the Western aura, in its heart, and even in the secluded Venetian provinces, like Boca, the hunger for justice fills many pages and the highest literary reaches.
One moment in Dante, the most influential author from the West, is legally and therefore diplomatically interesting (see: Raj, VI, 10 - 12):
I was emperor, Justinian, because I am a mako, love first feels the voice, from the law everything is superfluous and easy.
"When Dante, on his journey through paradise, says the French historian Michel Balard (1959), questions Justinian's soul, he is aware of the unity and continuity of the empire, symbolized by the eagle, which flew from Troy to Rome and then stopped in Constantinople to ruled all Christianity from there. For Dante, Byzantium represented the idea of an empire governed by law, and as if he wanted to see the same here in the West," he adds in his work Byzantium through the eyes of the West (see more M. Ballard: Les Latins on Orient, Paris, 2006, 119).
An empire, organized, according to law and right - this is the demand of many rulers with a pen in hand, enlightened autocrats, and even those who do not hold a pen but strive to trace the pen. - Skilled politics tends to raise the role of words and text in the state.
Law is, what else would it be, actually the rule of the pen, and even in epochs where literature has its influence, And, in a way, it rules, such as the brilliant French epochs, for example, literature resembles law and order when the word governs.
Recently, I ran across strange lines somewhere, that Peter the Great said, allegedly, to Cardinal Richelieu: "I would give you half of Russia, if only you would arrange the other half for me like France!"
This is nonsense, of course, but only in one direction, that Peter was born almost a century after this great French diplomat, and they could not meet. I come in another sense, originally syllogistic, so let's say Dante's sense, this is profound wisdom: it suits the emperor to pronounce it, whose wild country is state-legally unorganized, but it also suits the cardinal to hear it - the cardinal who pronounced the next one, on at first glance a legally intoned, in fact infectiously empirical thought:
"Just give me three sentences from any writer, taken out of context, and I'll find a legal way to hang him!"
[GENOCIDE – (ŠTILJANOVIĆ, S.); (PLAMENAC, J.)]
What kind of face humanism has when it is tested in evil, and what kind when it is tested in good, especially in wealth, progress, peace, where it is easier to answer the challenge, the nineteenth century, but also the twentieth - Jovan (John) Plamenac, on example.
Flamenac belongs to those, political thinkers, who, being brought up more widely, spontaneously expand the field of their views. There are no fundamental differences between church and civilian diplomats in this matter - it is enough to look at the most critical periods, to peer into the most dangerous waters. For the church and the people, it was the sixteenth century.
Stefan Štiljanović, a relative of the Crnojevics from Cetinje, when this lordship dies, because of the conflict with the Mlečićs, he leaves his Paštrović family and fights against the Turks in Bosnia. - The diplomat-savior of the decapitated people in Hungary, in his scrupulous historian, testifies to what the era of the Turkish pogroms was like. And for contemporary, and fresh, memory, the genocide of Nazism, what it was, what it represents, writes - Plamenac, an English student. Waving his sword, in the battle, on Mohac, in 1526, and so on for the next fifteen years, until the end of the civil war, Štiljanović, a man from the oral tradition of Pastrovsk, by birth, but a man of grammar education, after moving to the Danube, before his death, lies is washed.
"They are chasing us, and we, what are we going to do, swim between rifle fire like fish in the sea," says this Renaissance diplomat.
He was the maternal cousin of Skender Pasha Mihajlović. He was ecclesiastical and civil at the same time, a diplomat in live fire, on the defensive, when retreating. He was an East-West diplomat, a man with two spheres of experience, a rare bird.
Štiljanović, by choosing, in the Hungarian throne war between Jovan Zapolja (King of Southern Hungary, 1487-1540), and Ferdinand of Habsburg (Holy Roman Emperor, 1503-1564), sided with the latter, and turned to the West, as, after all, a diplomat of the new age, Flamenco. Stefan Štiljanović left diplomatic correspondence with Ferdinand: of an intelligence, military and political nature, which essentially forms the core of all diplomatic literature. A man facing the West - he is facing a walking body with eyes on the back of his head:
"Today I see you, brothers and sisters, hungry and barefoot...!"
However, we see, with skepticism, Plamenac's advanced West, as well as Plamenac himself, not in a completely clear vision, but in confusion and fear when there is nowhere to go, not even with the crimes of the advanced and enlightened, but to acknowledge these:
"In the rich and 'advanced' West in the current century, more serious massacres took place than in the past," says Plamenac and continues:
"In the welty and 'progressive' West there have been in the present century greater atrocities than there were in the last. Who would venture to say that the Western peoples are in general more human than their ancestors were three or four generations ago? They have developed far more destructive weapons of war and have used them ruthlessly, and they have committed genocide." (Cf. more details John Pamenatz: Karl Marx's Philosophy of Man, Oxford, 1975, 257.)
[KOKOTI – (NEGOS)]
Humorous, and political, allegory in Mountain wreath, the cockfight, which the champions of the interested parties, armed with weapons (one Orthodox, the other: a man from the Turkic circle) observe and comment on, speaks for itself politically, dramaturgically and diplomatically - just as interesting. Here it is: Kokoti fight in front of the national assembly, in a public place, for cheering, for sympathy and for prestige. The fight cannot remain without comment. It is no longer a private fight. To fight, to shed one's blood, to lay down one's life, in Njegošev's world, in state affairs, is not a private but a public matter. Heroism, in the old Montenegro, is a deadly transition from the private to the public state field.
Prince Rogan, a man who represents the old Montenegro, a small country burned by the fire of resistance to the occupying empire, cheers for a weaker, equal to himself and measured by his own heart, Kokot:
And I would like it to overpower the smaller one; and you, aga, your beards of saints?
The Turk, the interlocutor, a certain Skender-aga, an observer of this fight, from a height that also passes from the private to the public field, cheers for the fat and large Peruvian:
And I like to overpower the taller. Rashta was given to him by the higher god: when he is higher, may he be stronger!
The dramatic situation with the cocoons is a deeply intimate, tender, private, humorous parable about David and Goliath, but if it doesn't have a deeper diplomatic metaphor - it does, it really does. The two voyeurs of the kokot bone do not know, they do not suspect, that Thucydides, d Peloponnesian wars, considered with strong enthusiasm the position of the weaker Greek states in relation to their stronger neighbors. He made a black-and-white, difficult-to-refute diplomatic diagnosis for both:
"You know well, as we do," say the Athenians to their opponents from the island of Melos, "that the right only applies between equals in power, and that, however, in an inverted constellation, the strong do what they can and the weak what they must!" ”
The Americans, who today are at the forefront of world diplomatic thought, published a monumental monograph on Thucydides (The Landmark Thucydides, edited by Robert B. Strassler, Simon & Shuster, New York, 1996).
They have another unparalleled study of the warring states, again, of course, the polis in the Greek world, which gave birth to the idea of the unity of the book and the state, especially the connection of the book and the small state - Sheila L. Ager: Interstate Arbitrations in the Greek World 337-90 BC, devoted to third-party diplomatic interventions and the refined state protocol of the Hellenistic period.
And the author of the dramatic scene about cockroaches, a poet from our region, there is no doubt, was obsessed with the connection between the law (the book) and the small state. This is evidenced by the characters, people from the era of Pregoševo, and his countrymen, from Njeguš, Čevo and the surrounding area, simple people from the people whom the young poet got to know closely on a private level (his sister was married in Čevo). That's why it is The Mountain Wreath imbued with deeply private, indescribably tender tones, despite the bloodthirsty aura that spreads as if blood were evaporating around that poetry.
Minor and anonymous Davids, in the face of Goliaths, make a deadly escape from the private to the state field, laying down their lives from the private plane to state property. Surrounded by the great, who do what they can, they are what Thucydides, that is, what they must, did, did - and completed, just as her pure heart dreamed, full of blood, which smokes, a miracle, in her chest.
[PARADOX – (DISSIDENTS)]
The smell, and the taste, of the diplomatic style is significantly different in relation to cheerfulness. It depends on the diplomatic tradition. Irritability interferes with diplomatic communication and in the Western tradition, it is considered an open disturbance. Emotion no, or not quite, but exhilaration - yes.
In recent decades, former Yugoslav diplomats have been recalling, here and there, in public, their village, in flames, with an emotion they call nostalgia. In the end, the taste remained bitter for them, on their return from wide continents, religions and races, where they did diplomatic business with success, and their vision narrowed on the ravine of bloodshed and calvary in the disintegration of Yugoslavia, which only a few years earlier they persistently called brotherhood-unity. An excess of exuberance, along with a lack of critical thinking, pays dearly in international diplomatic business.
In utopia, they once found relief from oriental boredom, and this was occasionally provoked by the critical opinion of Yugoslav apostates, whom the communists labeled traitors, since they could not accept and adopt her precious role. In the last three decades, nationalists, those in the cabinet, budget-patriots, and others, poured from barrels of beer and cauldrons of brandy, spew live fire at their communist ancestors, with more hatred than reason, but no one looks back on it anymore. . To describe the world to one's village, and the village to the world, is really a long shot.
Paradoxically, the communists did advocate rhetorically for artistic creativity, but the lion's share of the work was done by the dissidents. The heart of every true apostate beat for the text and the book. Why are the book, on the one hand, and the modesty of life, on the other, so bound by fate, and why do they always have a bad time in this world, God in heaven?
I am not completely clear about the spirit of that era, in which creatively those from the bottom, starving, in prnjas and minor sausage bohemia were stronger than those from the top in cabinets and limousines. A political opponent, a dissident, left the most significant creative mark - how is that?
For Yugoslavia, the tragedy was that it had only a handful of real dissidents (as if it got tired after giving birth to the father of the dissident movement, Đilas, and let him down the river of history without a real successor), you can count them on your fingers, and half-dissidents, pseudo-critical , false apostates, beer and brandy anarchists - there were thousands. In Poland, the Czech Republic and Hungary, the situation is significantly different: prisons are full of writers, novelists, dramatists and film workers who have been admired by the world - and the pub is quiet, full of informers, audible only under the breath, like a grave.
Finally, the year 1990 comes to reap the fruits of dissident culture in Eastern Europe (dissent), but only Yugoslavia wakes up in a nightmare. She states that she doesn't have those goods (except some bofl) and that she will have a bad time.
Bonus video:
