By Andrej Nikolaidis, CdM columnist
Zdravko and the team have decided to go in style.
The day before it was overthrown, Krivokapic’s government continued with the practice of “we are an asylum for homeless people” and housed more than 10 people. Some were placed to official positions, some to advisory positions. That will look great in their biography: “He/She served as an adviser to the Prime Minister for one day.” I don’t know what Zdravko likes to sing when he drinks, but it could be a song by Riblja Corba: “Stay scum until the end”.
The government, which promised to establish the rule of law, violated the laws and the Constitution of Montenegro on a daily basis, with ruthlessness that will fascinate historians. And prosecutors.
That government promised to end the practice of party-affiliated employment. All constituents of the government, as sprinters at the shooting of the starting pistol, rushed to fill every armchair, chair and stool they managed to find from the party quotas, even those covered with dust and sheets, which had been left abandoned in the basements of Montenegrin state institutions for years. If they found a log somewhere, they planted their staff on it as well. Or two.
And so, until the last day. With the last move, if there is someone who pretends that they still do not understand it, they have confirmed what is clear to everyone: this group of people with evil intentions should never have led the local community, let alone the state of Montenegro.
Looking at Krivikapic and his grotesque apostles, Branko Vojicic would often come to my mind. As a young and rebellious journalist of “Monitor”, I would sometimes, annoyed by the nonsense I read, naively ask the editor Vojicic – “why on earth did you publish that idiotic text?”
Branko would laugh and answer: “People should be allowed to discredit themselves”.
Exactly. That is the only bright side of Krivokapic’s ruling in Montenegro: they were allowed to discredit themselves – both he and his experts and those who were employed as puppets to destroy the economic and social substance of Montenegro, erase its culture and fulfill the dark agenda of Amfilohije’s counter-revolution, which is still called “religious processions”.
The government composed in the Monastery flooded the public space with so much lowness, primitivism, systematic, brutal disregard for human life, disregard that at times resembled a physical/political manifestation of metaphysical evil, overwhelmed it with so much violation of law, so much strife, so much demagoguery, so many shameless lies, it took “one thing to say-another to do-yet another to think” for its credo, and established mimicry as its modus operandi…
In short, that government convincingly presented to us the political values of the one who set it. Like apostles, like teachings.
And now goodbye. Although “get lost” would be more appropriate.
The government, as I’ve said, goes in style: it is carrying out party-affiliated employments to the last breath. Zdravko’s apostles would, God forbid, if they were taken to be hanged, pick-pocket the mass through which they would be led to the noose and then, a minute before the execution, hire someone who carried Amfilohije’s portraits on Montenegrin roads to be the executor.
