Greater Surbiton

The perfect is the enemy of the good

Being Serb the Bosnian way: Rodoljub Colakovic

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I reached my homeland, in Bosnia, whom I love as it is possible to love only a mother. I love her for her gentleness, her sombreness, wild beauty, for her soft and warm songs, for her pain and suffering yesterday and still today. I love her for her rebelliousness and her struggles, for her proud sons who languish and die in the dungeons and fortresses of two great empires and two small kingdoms: from Asia Minor through Požarevac, Arad and Teresienstadt to Zenica, Sremska Mitrovica and Lepoglava. Among them were various people: archimandrites and metal-workers; long-moustached Franciscans and clean-shaven gymnasium students; the descendants of old Bosnian landowning houses and the sons of serfs; coarse and illiterate people and educated heads who managed to “write little books”. But in all of them burned the same flame: all of them loved our Bosnia, and all of them not only passionately desired, but fought and died so that her children should have more freedom, more bread and more justice.

Rodoljub Čolaković, Bosnian Serb from Bijeljina, Bosnian Partisan leader, Spanish Civil War vet, political secretary of the Bosnian Communist organisation in 1943, first prime minister of the People’s Republic of Bosnia-Hercegovina in 1945, writing in 1941, on the eve of Yugoslavia’s entry into World War II (Rodoljub Čolaković, Kuća oplakana, Svjetlost, Sarajevo, 1966, p. 307).

 

Sunday, 15 September 2019 - Posted by | Balkans, Bosnia |

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