From my current perspective, from a tavern in Kokorici, in the company of a little old lady dressed in black who is cleaning the place – and all this after my lecture on gender and Asanaginica, the regular annual fiasco of Belgrade Pride, with all accompanying manifestations and expected voices and statements, looks touchingly close. I arrived here driving on a road adorned with giant billboards advertising Thompson’s concert in Mostar. In Sarajevo, I was haunted by the sounds of Ceca. Grotesque images of sexuality which no longer fits into a permissive frame, has no more poetics touched by ideology, no cultural rhetoric… nothing, nothing, but the sale of leather clothes fitting tightly over private parts – a pitiful offer for pitiful consumers. There is no longer a niche in our society for the language and the art of love.
Therefore, the discussion about a hypothetical Ivica Dacic at the Pride Parade, about the subservience of the police, cunningness of the administration, exaggerations of ministries and even more ministers – is totally out of place. The problem cannot be solved by craftiness. The guy who wants to beat up the participants of Pride is the lowlife from Maja Milos’s Clip, and the whole thing can be solved only by the legal and then physical exclusion of him, and symbolically the entire society thriving on hunger, poverty, lies, dirt, contempt and violence. Pride is a call to mutiny, one of many. What right does the resistance elite have, with their eyes shining at the mere mention of a class struggle, to close one eye when it comes to Pride, and invent a repertoire of trifling arguments equal to those of the state?
The only answer I can give is the absence of the language and art of love. This would mean that no population, LGBT included, should be left without love on the streets, that parades must be held whenever we have an opportunity – instead of allowing ourselves to be secretly relived and nag happily about it when it becomes obvious that the puny organization once again isn’t able to withstand state protection and (alleged) prevention of violence. Love is proven (and learned) with the skills of the word and body. The risk is not small, and sometimes what we risk is life itself. And pondering is not allowed – every human right is equally simple or hard. The question – do I love each gay and lesbian person – should have been answered a long time ago by those who think, at least in the part of their brains which deals with the social spectrum. This is not necessary for the personal spectrum.
A gay couple came to visit Kokorici this afternoon. At least two “same sex” couples were present among the students. The old lady is letting the village cats sleep in the tavern. The Pride has a point if we all want it. Because Asanaginica died as a result of male malice.
Translated by Bojana Obradovic