By: Gašper Blažič
The term “orchestrated democracy” does not appear very often in Slovenian public discourse. Perhaps this is also because the phenomenon is not strongly evident in European democracies, whereas it is frequently encountered in countries outside Europe – for example, in Russia.
Russia formally has a democracy; formally, there is an opposition and media pluralism as well. In practice, of course, everything is different. Yet it seems that such patterns of “democrature,” as the writer Drago Jančar termed this phenomenon more than twenty years ago, are also being transferred to Slovenia via the so-called Serbian world, something that became especially visible after the referendum on the law on assistance in voluntary ending of life.
Opposition responds with palliative care
One thing is clear: the referendum result clearly shocked the ruling (degenerate) left, as it had expected an easy victory in line with opinion polls. Such a victory would also have meant a psychological advantage ahead of the parliamentary elections, which are just over three months away. It is no secret that behind-the-scenes patrons wanted to launch a major public-opinion offensive against the opposition on this basis, which, in the event of a referendum defeat, would almost certainly have faced another internal split. That did not happen. In fact, opposition parties gained strength, and the possibility that a new, relatively firm and stable centre-right coalition could be formed after the next elections is now significantly greater. This is especially true for SDS, which only a few days after the referendum submitted a new bill to parliamentary procedure to regulate palliative care.
They would annul the referendum outright
The referendum result has evidently dealt a heavy blow both to the Srebrna nit Association and to the main executors of the media agenda of “assisted suicide.” Interestingly, both Srebrna nit, the main initiator of the law, and the weekly Mladina are thinking along the same lines: about filing a complaint with the National Electoral Commission (DVK) and perhaps even the Constitutional Court, which could, at least in theory, simply annul the referendum, claiming that illegalities occurred and that it was conducted under irregular conditions. Mladina’s editor Grega Repovž, for example, refers in his editorial to the fact that the Constitutional Court has already intervened in referendum decision-making once before. In fact, it was the Supreme Court that did so in 2018. At that time, the judges ruled that the government had financed an inadmissible referendum campaign with €97,000 of budget funds, because it emphasised only the positive consequences of adopting the law on the second railway track and the negative consequences of rejecting it, while failing to present potential risks of its adoption. For voters to freely express their will, it is crucial that they have access to all information and different viewpoints. This violation of constitutional rights was the reason the referendum had to be repeated. In that first case, the referendum ultimately went in the government’s favour, whereas in the case of the law on assistance in voluntary ending of life, although it was supported by the governing coalition, a slim majority rejected it in the referendum. Through his editorial, calling for a “complainant”, Repovž encouraged Srebrna nit to consider filing an appeal. As Repovž puts it, such a complaint would be necessary “not only because of this referendum, but so that the court once and for all clarifies what is actually permissible in election and referendum campaigns.” “Can you be active in a campaign without registering as an organiser, as the Medical Chamber and the Church did? Can you abuse the power of your position and pressure patients to influence the referendum outcome? Can you do this in a public institution? Can you, as a professor, write agitational letters to medical students? We experienced all this this time as well.”
Repovž insinuates an illegal campaign
Repovž thus suggests that only officially registered campaign organisers may participate in a referendum campaign. However, it has already been reported that opponents attempted to attack the Catholic Church (which was not the only religious community involved) and even doctors with criminal complaints, ultimately to no effect. Legislation on referendum campaigns stipulates only that individuals or legal entities must register as campaign organisers if they actively participate in the campaign, finance it, and collect funds for it. Media appearances by representatives of civil society do not fall into this category, provided they are not paid pre-referendum advertisements. In other words, Repovž is firing blanks here, because everything he lists has been happening among his like-minded circles for many years. After all, did not even President Nataša Pirc Musar publicly support the law in question during her presidential campaign? She later became more reserved, as overly explicit support could have been harmful. Yet on the very day of the referendum she again hinted – à la Danilo Türk – at discrediting doctors and the Church, mentioning the “separation of Church and state,” even though Article 7 of the Slovenian Constitution refers only to religious communities in general. After the tragedy in Novo mesto, she had already attempted to blur responsibility by claiming that “we all failed.” After the referendum, Dnevnik columnist Goran Vojnović used the same formula, “we are all to blame.” This is reminiscent of the socialist era, when everyone was responsible for everything and at the same time no one was responsible for anything.
When a Freedom Movement MP loses control
Clearly, Repovž’s main pain – and with it the pain of the entire transitional left – is that this was already the second referendum defeat for the government in a short period of time. Recall the referendum on privileged pensions. In the most recent referendum, they had hoped for a civilisational “awareness” that people who suffer should be helped to die. There is no doubt this was a spiritual struggle, which is why there were furious outbursts, such as that of the infamous Freedom Movement MP Lena Grgurevič about “blacks” (a term that sounds highly racist). It was not entirely clear whether by “blacks” she meant the Pope, Slovenian bishops, Janez Janša, or perhaps even a well-known former NK Maribor footballer who also publicly opposed the law. Grgurevič’s outburst is merely a symptom of something deeper: the temptation for the governing coalition to tighten its policy of orchestrated democracy and create conditions in which a managerial class, supposedly empowered by voters in April 2022, could decide authoritatively. This explains the near-immediate activation of the so-called Serbian lobby, which influences the top of Slovenian politics primarily through Zoran Janković, and of course with the tacit consent of Milan Kučan. The recent appointment of the director of the Ljubljana Drama Theatre – Serbian director Ivana Djilas – only confirmed this. But this is just one symptom. Let us recall that the Ministry of Foreign Affairs under Tanja Fajon, so generous toward Palestine and also toward Velika Kladuša (which is to receive a substantial taxpayer donation for its water supply), does not dare impose sanctions against Milorad Dodik, who recently gained his own regent in Republika Srpska. Such election-legitimised regencies are a hallmark of orchestrated democracies: an outgoing authoritarian leader appoints a successor whom voters are then expected to support – and it appears Janković is seeking just such a figure for succession at City Hall.
Two months waiting to submit a bill
However, Balkan “games without borders” also occur where one might least expect them. Polls ahead of the parliamentary elections suggest a possible fragmentation of votes among new parties, for example, between Kordiš’s new socialists and the “old” Left, while Prebilič’s Revival and Logar’s Democrats could also enter parliament. For now, NSi, SLS, and Fokus (led by Marko Lotrič) are discussing cooperation. From the background, Zoran Stevanović is trying to cross the parliamentary threshold; he had an excellent opportunity in 2022 thanks to his “anti-vaccine” agenda. Recently, he drew attention by submitting a bill intended to “abolish” the RTV licence fee, a topic that could attract many voters. However, editor and journalist Peter Jančič warned of a trap: Stevanović’s party boasted of having collected enough signatures to submit the bill as early as mid-September, but then waited two full months before actually filing it, until the government proposed raising the RTV fee. Parliament will decide quickly on the government’s proposal, while Stevanović’s proposal will apparently be decided by no one. Had it been submitted in mid-September, the situation would have been different. Was this, then, another case of help from the Serbian lobby to Golob? Two birds with one stone: mentioning “Stevanović’s bill” would give his party publicity and embarrass the opposition, while the late submission would consign the bill itself to the trash. Everything is clear.