1 All that’s left for us to do is laugh, isn’t it? That’s probably the easiest way to digest the news that the president of the Anti-Corruption Commission is under investigation for corruption. The president of the State Commission for the Prevention of Corruption (SCPC), Tatjana Dimitrovska, is suspected of providing information about an ongoing investigation to a person accused of corruption. She sent him messages via Viber and WhatsAPP. The president was elected as a member of the SCPC with the highest marks from the parties in Parliament, with the explanation that “she has extensive experience in the fight against corruption and conflict of interests, and has a clear vision for the work of the SCPC.”
Can we agree that all that’s left for us to do now is laugh? It’d be a pity to feel disappointed now that we have our very own Katica 2.0. The leading anti-corruption investigator under investigation for corruption. It’s the same story as with special prosecutor Katica Janeva, who was tasked with tackling corruption, but ended up in prison for corruption. The defendants gifted Katica furniture and handbags, whereas Tatjana sent the defendants messages about the proceedings against them via phone. This supposedly experienced anti-corruption investigator not only committed a crime by revealing official secrets but also left a trail behind. Basically, she made it even easier to get caught. Who knows, maybe that’s why she asked for and received a diplomatic passport as soon as she became president. Perhaps she thought a diplomatic passport came with diplomatic immunity too.
At least Katica lasted a few years in office, during the most difficult times, no less, and managed to file a dozen charges against high-ranking officials before the very people she was prosecuting threw her in prison. And Tatjana, after just three months in office, was already spying for the defendants. She’s been giving away official secrets for longer than she’s actually been in office.
2 And until just a week ago, we were wondering how the Anti-Corruption Commission had no work to do and then, suddenly, they found one. They had the bright idea to check how the laws are phrased. So they recommended amending the Law on Public Procurement, arguing that it disclosed very confidential information that threatened the privacy of participants in state tenders. They decided too much information was being made public. After all, there’s no point in telling citizens in such detail how the state spends their money.
Imagine, that was proposed by the anti-corruption investigators. The very people who are supposed to be tackling corruption. But then I thought to myself, absurd as it sounds, maybe they’re doing it for our own good. Let’s not trouble ourselves with how they spend our money. After all, the more we know, the more we worry.
This isn’t anything new. Back in 2018, at SAKAMDAKAZAM.MK, we published a series of articles revealing that the anti-corruption officers elected in 2015 were claiming travel expenses with forged claim forms and fake taxi receipts, even though they hadn’t gone to work, and were renting apartments for 100 euros while submitting bills for 350 euros. For months, they went back and forth over whether to resign. That was the same commission where President Goran Milenkov, when asked by journalists to show Nikola Gruevski’s asset declaration, said: “I kindly ask for us to put an end to this issue forever and ever, amen.”
The only new thing is that the current anti-corruption officers asked for diplomatic passports as soon as they took office. Their explanation was that they travel to a lot of training sessions abroad, and that way they wouldn’t wait in queues at airports.
Just like that, Katica had her sofa taken away. Tatjana had her diplomatic passport taken away. The training on fighting corruption will have to wait.
3 The Assembly has finally got down to business. President Afrim Gashi announced a call for submissions for a new logo for the Assembly that should “modernise the visual identity of the institution.” The logo should be trilingual and reflect “the national values, mission, and vision of the institution.”
I don’t think the artists working on the logo will have much of a dilemma, since a stylised toll booth would be the most fitting visual identity for the institution, given that travel expenses are undoubtedly its true mission and vision.
I didn’t quite understand why the logo needs to be in English as well as Macedonian and Albanian. But then again, we mere mortals are probably unaware that our Assembly makes decisions of global importance, and that, this way, people from the English-speaking world will be able to understand us more easily. Or perhaps it’s more practical. The children who are moving abroad will be able to understand the achievements of Macedonian MPs more easily. Sooner or later, they’ll start to forget their mother tongues.
We’re talking about an Assembly whose MPs took three weeks off after the tragedy in Kochani, where 62 people died, just to avoid the temptation to quarrel. And President Afrim Gashi didn’t even convene a commemorative session because if he had held one for Kochani, they would have been angry at him for not having convened commemorative sessions for the previous tragedies, like the modular hospital fire in Tetovo and the bus accidents near Laskarci and in Bulgaria.
We have a saying: The village is burning, and the grandmother is combing her hair. In line with the modernisation of the institution’s identity, as required by the logo advert, that saying now reads: Kochani is burning, and the Assembly is combing its hair.
4 The Minister of Culture and Tourism, Zoran Ljutkov, proposed in an interview with TV Telma a change to the law that would allow the private sector to do business on cultural heritage sites.
“That way, through a private-public partnership, the whole idea can be materialised. The whole world has opened up like that, and we’re the only ones still protecting and closing off cultural heritage,” said Ljutkov.
It’d be really nice, for example, if a café owner were handed the area around the Skopje Aqueduct, which is being renovated with money from the American Ambassador’s Fund. A dozen tables to start with, urban equipment, so to speak, then it gets cold, and they’ll need to enclose the space with windows so the smokers aren’t cold. Then it gets warm again, so we’ll add another ten tables on the terrace. And Heraclea? Imagine the strutting people of Bitola, parking on top of the mosaic next to the café. The Skopje residents from Debar Maalo, with their Porches, would seem like small fry compared to them. Or the palaces in Stobi. That place is just begging for luxury fine dining restaurants, and once they put a few glass domes, tourists will feel like kings. Skupi? Why leave so much space empty when it’s perfect for a summer disco. A hotel with a panoramic terrace will spring up at the Vinica Fortress, so grandiose it will be unmatched even by the people of Shtip and their spa centre at the Isar Fortress.
The minister’s proposal sounds ideal. It’s a shame it’s yet another idea from the “We are Sweden” series.” It’s completely out of touch with reality.
In reality, the entire Old Bazaar in Skopje is cultural heritage. And what does it look like? A month ago, the Municipality of Chair built a glass canopy there, which the Conservation Centre labelled as illegal construction that should be demolished. What do you think? Will it be demolished? And who exactly will demolish it?
And Bitola’s Shirok Sokak is an ambient street and cultural heritage site. Along with the plastic-covered cafés.
Don’t get me started on Ohrid. The entire town is a cultural heritage site protected by UNESCO. And the residents of Ohrid are doing their best to save themselves from UNESCO.
In Skopje, along the main street and the main square by the Vardar River, neither the state, nor the City, nor the Municipality of Centar can stop the usurpation of public space. The monuments will have to be relocated to make more room for cafés, because the tables are practically glued to the pedestals. Chento spits in their coffee.
The state failed to control a shed in Kochani that operated as a nightclub because everyone signed off that it was up to standard and safe, and 62 young people burned to death, and now we’re expected to believe it will control businesses operating on cultural heritage sites.
While our institutions, politicians and businessmen are the way they are, it’d be best for our cultural heritage to remain hidden but accessible, rather than for the entire country to turn into a plastic-covered café.
Translated by Nikola Gjelincheski
