By: Vančo K. Tegov
It is not right that it is already 2026, yet it feels as if we are still in 1946 – as if everything that happens still revolves around dividing the spoils after the fighting in the woods: between those for whom the forest was the ultimate horizon, and those who actually had skills but were not part of this “forest economy” (steal, take what belongs to others, kill, and never answer for anything). The forest‑dwellers never wanted to adapt to the economy – they subordinated the economy to themselves, to their own pockets, to stealing from others and distributing the rest to their chosen few. That is exactly what we have received in the past four years. We have Marxists and Stalinists in practice: take as much as you can for yourself (for villas, foreign destinations, basketball games in the USA or Cuba), and throw sand in everyone else’s eyes – miserable crumbs that, in the context of monthly income, amount to little more than a coffee and perhaps a cheap dessert.
Because of the unfulfilled ambitions of the red aristocracy (salon leftists, grandchildren of those from the woods), because of immaturity and a lack of belonging to their own civilisation, and because of their submission to fantasies of justice and equality at any cost – and the distribution of what belongs to others (already produced or not yet produced) to those who contributed nothing – we have ended up with a system that is a millstone around society’s neck. It drags it down until it breaks. The diagnosis is known. Now we only need a good specialist – a surgeon capable of performing the operation. Let us hope that moment comes soon.
It is not right that our present suffers because of the delusions and dead ends of bad leaders – those who, as we like to say, were born with a golden spoon in their mouths, yet cannot handle an aluminium one because they break their teeth on it. These are exactly the people in charge today. This is what they have done throughout their four‑year mandate, which they won with the help of “street” cyclists and other pampered types who ate with similar cutlery, smoked themselves into a haze, and snorted white lines. The street is not a parliament. Parliament is not a circus or an artistic installation, as they like to call behaviour that has no place in a normal democracy. These same street activists still maintain their image (crumpled trousers, even urine‑stained, shirts missing buttons, worn‑out sneakers), yet before the last election they pulled hundreds of millions from the state budget for street support. Politics – or rather governing – in this mandate has turned into an experimental theatre for the drunk, the stoned, the spent, or the discarded cliques from all sorts of spheres, who have unfortunately reached a harmful and irreversible maximum. That is why our country, society, and economy are smoke‑filled, blurred, deranged, and dysfunctional. The only way it operates is through dysfunction, destruction, and degradation.
It is not right that the international community avoids us as if we were contagious – except for the Balkans, parts of the Middle East, and Africa. It is awkward, almost shameful. It appears that the entire state apparatus has knelt before one frivolous influencer who has ensnared (or pressured) everyone around the prime minister. When her arrival is announced, large amounts of work are pre‑loaded in advance, or people simply disappear from offices and protocol rooms.
And what must it look like when this “tariff‑lady” appears on the parquet or marble of international events – in her characteristic pose, “on the prowl” near modern, polished hallways and restrooms, where, after statesmen and real power‑brokers finish their “private” business, she suddenly materialises at the exact moment someone is zipping up or fastening a button of formality. Catching someone while adjusting their trousers or mid‑stride as they aim for their next interlocutor – this is an obstacle she must leap over (with pre‑arranged PR, of course). Then Instagram celebrates a world‑class achievement. The shame of the shamed is invisible. But the shame inflicted on the country these people are supposed to represent is visible and screaming to the heavens.
And as if that were not enough, we also have a pale, bloodless, and disoriented foreign minister, whose brain the African sun from her frequent visits has apparently “fried” so much that she no longer sees the European terrain at home – or simply ignores it. She conducts a non‑aligned, Titoist foreign policy, relegates excellent diplomats at Mladika to basement offices, greets and sympathises with dictators and autocrats, and worries that the normal world is placing obstacles in the way of her Asian and African friends. Only part of the Balkans still senses her now and then – and even that selectively, since her post‑socialist friends are no longer in power there. All that remains is for her to put on her sneakers and go for a “purifying” meditative walk by Lake Zbilje. Meanwhile, the country’s reputation – with her help as well – goes down the drain.
It is not right that people are indifferent to everything we are seeing these days: theft, covering up theft, settling personal frustrations, confusion, and lack of credibility. And the main broker – Vesna Vuković – with an extremely vulgar vocabulary that would not be out of place even in a barroom brawl, labels people and hands out diagnoses (crazy, stupid, idiotic) in recordings that were very likely produced by her or are part of the script of her defensive shield for the days when the curtain falls on this incompetent government and the washing of dirty laundry begins – without detergent. Many will bury themselves without even realising that the gravedigger’s shovel has already struck. Only ten more days of dying out and departing, with the greatest possible damage that can be left behind by a period of governance by a completely incompetent, unqualified, impotent, and deranged government and its apparatus. We must rid ourselves of monastic and similar princesses, street‑corner tariff‑ladies, horse‑lovers, and aging rockers.
It is right that citizens wake up. That the weather clears for all of us, that life improves, and that the future becomes brighter, safer, and more dignified. Because that is right – and we all deserve it. A beautiful opportunity that must be seized.
Therefore, Slovenians, know your duty!
