KOSOVO

By Nicolette Preradovic

            To say that Serbia and Kosovo have finally crossed over into a realm where true friendship is possible would be to pull a white rabbit out from a top hat. We all like a good magic trick, but that doesn’t mean we wouldn’t want to know how it was done. Such is the case with Serbia and Kosovo’s convoluted word games. A case of “he-said, she-said.” Since Kosovo’s declaration of independence in 2008, Serbia and Kosovo have been putting on a show for the world, through daily news articles and web briefings. Active verbs and semiotics display the source of their contention through depoliticized speech, set against the background of the “Kosovo Myth.” The one accusing the other of wanting to create conflict, represented as strategized messages.

            One of those messages was recently displayed on a train traveling from the capital of Serbia, Belgrade, to a northern town in Kosovo, Mitrovica. The slogan, “Kosovo is Serbia” was written on the vessel in 21 different languages. Red, blue, and white stripes were painted across the length of the train to symbolize the Serbian flag. Inside, Serbian Orthodox icons and saints adorned the walls and ceilings. The chairs were blue with bags sitting on top, also the colors of the Serbian flag. Female hostesses walked up and down the isles in black uniforms with red and blue accents, and white blouses. The train was supposedly a gift from Moscow, so that the Serbian people could celebrate their heritage with pride. Who knew it would lead to more conflict?

            As the train approached closer to the Kosovan border, word had gotten out that Kosovans were planning to blow up the tracks. The Prime Minister of Serbia, Aleksandar Vucic then ordered the train to stop at Raska, a small region near the southern Serbian border, “to show that we want peace.” But the Kosovan officials were having none of it. The first Prime Minister of Kosovo, Hashim Thaci, made a statement saying that there were weapons on the train and Belgrade was supposedly arming the Serbs in Mitrovica, in case Albanian threats surfaced. He also stated, “If the train had come any closer, I’m not sure that it wouldn’t have led to armed conflict.” Vucic declared, “We sent a train, not a tank,” and the President of Serbia, Tomislav Nikolic, raised the question, “If there is no freedom of movement, what kind of western civilization are we talking about then?”

            On the “Claiming Human Rights” homepage, titled “Definitions of the right to freedom of movement,” it states that “The right to freedom of movement is enshrined in Article 13 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights.” Below that, “The right is enshrined in Article 12 of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights.” In the United States of America, the law is listed in the Constitution under Article 4. In America, however, this “freedom of movement” became automatically naturalized during the Industrial Revolution and the development of railways, so there was never any reason to keep it enforced. A significant aspect of the origin of the American mythology was born during this development. As labor workers sacrificed themselves to lay tracks down and create new pathways, through valleys and mountains, using explosives, many lives were lost as this vision for new passages was implemented. Trains quickly became the symbol for progress, even at the expense of other land owners, like the Native Americans. They represented a system for the acceleration of dreams, a manifestation of desire, a path towards possibility and the expanding of experience.  As a dominant force in the emerging American culture, trains were a source of inspiration for musicians and song writers, as they rode the rails in search of love, money, and possibility.  Linguistic phrases were introduced, like “sidetracked,” “derailed,” and “wrong side of the tracks,” to suggest someone who steered from “the path” or was born into a low-income household. It also became a great symbol for freedom, as the Underground Railroad would become one of the biggest turning points in American history. Those who would help the slaves escape the south used code words like “conductors,” “passengers,” and “stations,” as a metaphor for the guides that helped the fleeing slaves to safe houses. Many African American spirituals mention the train in religious music, as a symbol of salvation or emancipation.

            The slogan, “Kosovo is Serbia,” is much like the myth of the train in American tradition and folklore. It mobilizes an idea, and places it on its tracks, from point A to point B. Allowing for freedom of expression, freedom of association, and freedom of movement. In this case, it is an expression of Serbian heritage, but also the freedom to express oneself, and the freedom to move while doing so. Like the train, however, this mobility comes with a sacrifice. Perhaps not many people are familiar with the myth that has only recently pitted Serbia and Kosovo against each other. It hangs out, in the background of our lives, unsuspecting and precarious, just like every other national narrative. The one we all have but for some reason are too afraid to share, or simply don’t know. Just as each person carries within them the story of their lives, each country carries with it its own national narrative. It roots itself firmly in the history of the countries formation, and guides itself into the future; the story expands, unfolds – it grows, and moves. The “Kosovo Myth” is one such story. There are many versions, the following, is one.   

The Fall of the Serbian Empire

From that high town, holy Jerusalem,

There comes flying a gray bird, a falcon,

And in his beak a small bird, a swallow.

Yet this gray bird is not just a falcon;

It is our saint, the holy Saint Elijah.

And the swallow is not just a swallow,

But a message from the Holy Virgin.

The falcon flies to Kosovo’s flat field.

The message falls in the lap of the tsar;

For Tsar Lazar is the message destined:

“O Tsar Lazar, prince of righteous lineage,

Which of the two kingdoms will you embrace?

Would you rather choose a heavenly kingdom,

Or have instead an earthly kingdom here?

If, here and now, you choose the earthly kingdom,

Saddle horses, tighten the saddles’ girths,

Let all the knights put on their mighty swords,

And launch you then assault against the Turks.

Then their army, all the Turks, shall perish.

“But if instead, you choose the heavenly kingdom,

Then you must build a church at Kosovo.

Do not build it upon a marble base,

But on pure silk and costly scarlet cloth,

And give your host orders to Holy Mass.

For every man, all soldiers, will perish,

And you, their prince, will perish with your host.”

When Tsar Lazar has heard the whole message,

Lazar is vexed; he ponders, he thinks much:

“O my dear lord, what shall I ever do?

And of the two, which kingdom should I choose?

Shall I now choose the promised heavenly kingdom,

Or shall I choose an earthly kingdom here?

If I do choose, I embrace the latter,

If I do choose the earthly kingdom here,

Then what I choose is but a transient kingdom;

The eternal one is that promised in heaven.”

Prince Lazar chooses the heavenly kingdom and sacrifices the Kingdom of Serbia for the Kingdom of Heaven. The famous battle that took place in Kosovo Polje in 1389 against the Turkish Army would become the main source of mobilization for the creation of the narrative. As Prince Lazar fought Sultan Murad in the battle, both went down suffering tragic losses. But it was Prince Lazar’s choice that became the signification for the Serbian people. He was viewed as a “martyr” thereafter.

For 500 years, the Ottomans ruled over Serbian land. The narrative began its fruition during this time, and stories were told in the form of music, epic poetry, and oral tradition. Inspired by the stories, the Serbs were eventually able to reclaim the land they had lost 500 years ago during the First Serbian Uprising.

Under Ottoman rule, the area of Kosovo slowly became dominated by Muslims. It grew over time, and eventually Serbs became the minority in the Kosovo region. But Kosovo was still very much littered with Serbian Orthodox culture: churches, statues, and sacred sites were sprawled across the land.

The annexation of Serbs from Kosovo was a slow process that lasted through multiple wars throughout the 20^th century, but it wasn’t until the Kosovo War of 1998 that full blown attacks were made to expel Serbs once and for all and claim Kosovo as Muslim. Churches were burned, and holy sites were leveled and destroyed. Serbs were also kidnapped and taken across the border into Albania where experiments were done and organs were harvested and sold on the black market. Serbian people were no longer safe in Kosovo. The myth had become a symbol for their sacrifice, yet again.

            With progress, there must come sacrifice. The mythology of progress is not singular to any one nation, state, or region. It is an idea that mobilizes future developments in a direction that allows freedom of expression, freedom of association, and freedom of movement to blossom in a globalizing world. The train in American culture, and the national slogan in Serbian culture, both move towards a greater order of things, where dreams and reality are weaved together to create a new path. One which allows history, culture, music, and experience to continue having a voice. In 1853, Boston, a song was produced by a man named Charlie Converse, called, “Riding on a Rail.” The song symbolizes riding on a train as a synchronizing representation of new social and political causes. One which represents an experience in social equality. Perhaps one day, Serbia and Kosovo can unite in this experience.

  

Men of Different Stations

In the eye of fame,

Here are very quickly

Coming to the same;

High and lowly people,

Birds of every Feather,

On a common level,

A travelling together.