Not a Fairy Tale But… Third Chapter, First Story: Lost Peace

20 Apr Not a Fairy Tale But… Third Chapter, First Story: Lost Peace

“Lost Peace”
-First Story of the April Monthly Chapter-
Written by Nađa Bobičić
Voiceover by Marija Drndić

This is a story about women who refused to give up on peace at a time when that was not a popular stance in Montenegro. Who resisted the intoxication of nationalist fervor when it was at its peak. This is a story about those whose courage lies in the conscious choice of nonviolence and empathy, always and everywhere. Despite the imposed expectations of their environment, despite the pressures, despite the judgment…

The story begins much like it does in other republics of the former Yugoslavia. Sometime in the late eighties, with the so-called anti-bureaucratic revolutions, the seams of the Yugoslav self-management system began to rapidly show. Montenegro of that time was led by an inert leadership that fell under Milošević’s influence, renouncing the basic principles of brotherhood and unity for the sake of personal interests. Instead of brotherhood, we got nationalism; instead of unity, preparations for war; instead of socialism, capitalist plunder…

Although from the perspective of younger generations — those of us who were children during the war in the case of millennials, or not even born yet in the case of Gen Z — the collapse of the Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia seems historically “logical” and self-evident, to those who witnessed the process, it often did not appear so straightforward.

“Few in Yugoslavia could have anticipated the impending invasion of nationalism, revanchism, and the clericalization of society,” writes Ljubomirka – Ljupka Kovačević in a publication issued to mark twenty-five years of work by Anima – Centre for Women’s and Peace Education 1991–2016 from Kotor, in which she presents the feminist and pacifist work of this civil society organization from a personal perspective.

A society whose ideals were based on social justice, multiculturalism, the broader social emancipation of all, and non-alignment between the East and the West, began to slide unstoppably into chaos.

In the memories of Ljupka Kovačević, we read how she expected the women of Kotor to manage to organize more massively even in that time, in the early nineties, as they had often done before for various public events. Unfortunately, this did not happen due to gender roles, the double burden of working in both the public and private spheres, and the general social climate that was increasingly prioritizing a militaristic, machismo model.

Despite the lack of broader support, Ljupka Kovačević proposed the founding of the Women’s Club in late 1990, which later became the Women’s Circle, and then simply the Circle, once men joined them. The goal of the Circle was: “Informing, collective learning, and psychological-preventive action (today I realize the goal was raising awareness and providing support, but I didn’t know how to define it like that back then),” she notes.

Thus began the work of an informal group, which would later grow into Anima. The group met regularly to discuss previously agreed-upon topics. At the first meeting on January 29, 1991, there was a long discussion about the then-uncertain political situation. One of the participants, whose son was in the army, proposed organizing an assembly regarding the situation in Slovenia and Croatia.

On February 2, 1991, this group organized a gathering titled “A Call to Reason and Peace” at the Square of Arms at 11 AM, and wrote a letter to the Parliament of Montenegro.

Excerpts from the text read from the balcony at the Square of Arms:

“It is time to say – Reason and peace among people.

Fear, distrust, and insincerity have taken root among us. There is not a single cheerful face, nor a free, relaxed way of approaching another human being […]

We are mothers and we will not give our sons for dark causes, because ‘history is inhabited by tyrants who did the unthinkable. And the blade is still there…’ […]

What we must do in the name of our future is to avoid evil and organize ourselves to stop the evil we encounter at home and abroad […]

This sky and these squares, streets, churches, and palaces deserve peace, in the name of centuries and the centuries-old tolerance in this area. These spaces have reconciled different nations, faiths, political affiliations, and people here no longer asked who they were, where do they come from, and what do they do; but rather, are they for coexistence, with a warm heart and civilized thought.

Let us lay down our weapons because conversation is impossible in fear. Let us be as persistent as the history and culture of this city, as these walls, as this sea that withstands storms. Let us be humane, rational, and just, and humanity will be present wherever our foot steps and our word echoes. We stand here with great fear in our hearts, but still with a clear mind. And in the name of that reason, which makes a human being human, controls passions, and directs actions, we warn the authorities who have the power to govern our lives — a power we gave them through our trust — that coexistence is possible, because it exists and endures here, in this very city. Let the message from this place be – Peace, a secure future for our descendants, a healthy environment, and love. If there is none of that, there will be no humanity.”