By: Gašper Blažič
As a media representative who regularly follows the Trenta case at the Celje court, I naturally read with great interest the anonymous letter published this morning by the Spletni časopis portal. Since I am, at least partially, also an ‘insider’ who has been receiving information for several years about how our judiciary actually operates, I was not surprised by the content itself. In fact, what surprised me the most was that someone finally broke the conspiracy of silence and spoke out about what, until now, had only been whispered about.
Based on the information I have had up to now, I have no doubts about the truth of the claims made in the anonymous letter. In fact, the whole situation suggests that the Trenta case is even dirtier than the Patria affair, since the directors of this process have resorted to a rather absurd legal trick. Three people have been put on trial, but Janez Janša is not the main accused – Branko Kastelic is. And if Kastelic is “proven” to have harmed the company Imos, which he himself managed, for some minor sum, then the other two co-defendants, Janša and Klemen Gantar (from Eurogradnje), are automatically considered equally guilty. It is that simple.
This, on the other hand, is also proof that the transitional left has never won an election fairly – meaning through free political competition and a clash of arguments. And they are going to try the same play again. This probably would not be happening if a similar trend were not emerging across Europe, and if they did not have the constitutional court judges on their side this time. And this is not just about some personal grudge against Janša. This is about the business of transition, where the protection of all the existing privileges and mafia-style dealings is at stake. Because if the godfathers manage to “screw over” (to quote Branko Masleša) Janša through institutions that are only nominally independent – like the court – they solve a lot of problems at once and buy themselves more time. They know the psychological makeup of the opposing political camp. They also know how dangerous it is that more and more classic left-wingers are distancing themselves from the old guard and demanding real change – an end to the charade of “new faces.” Honestly, it is not even about sending Janša to prison again (he has already been there). It is about permanently disabling him in the court of public opinion – and in doing so, smearing the entire movement for change.
Now, someone like Janez Pogorelec would probably argue that the whole opposition is now hostage to Janša’s supposedly shady real estate dealings. If, of course, you believe in fairytales. Because anyone with a bit of common sense knows that nobody was harmed in the real estate deal involving the Trenta property. Not even Imos, despite going bankrupt – not because of Trenta, but due to the unfavourable conditions following the 2009 financial crisis, when the era of massive real estate investment ended, and cheap credit dried up. Imos had been involved in massive projects worth a hundred times more than the Trenta estate. Technically speaking, the court is dealing with petty cash that Janša supposedly “forgot” to return.
When I started attending the hearings at the Celje court some time ago, I quickly realised that I would become practically “at home” at the court’s front desk (at the Ljubljana court, they would probably search me head to toe every time and likely confiscate my laptop and phone). The atmosphere there feels rather “gentlemanly” – the staff greet you like an old acquaintance, and you start to wonder if they recognise you from somewhere. The prosecution team, Boštjan Valenčič and Luka Moljk, also exude a gentlemanly air. Their boss is Darja Šlibar – connected, at least through her daughter, to Robert Golob. During recesses, the few journalists covering the case (at times I was the only one) mostly gather around the prosecutors, chatting with them in a friendly manner. Nothing unusual – defence lawyers also joke with the prosecutors like old pals. Because in court, nothing is personal – it is just business, as the famous Don Vito Corleone would say.
As for me personally: I have spoken the most with Kastelic and Gantar during this trial. Often about things that have nothing to do with the case. I have barely exchanged a word with the others. The trials themselves often felt Kafkaesque – the judge, or rather the president of the panel, practically took on the role of the prosecutor throughout. The actual prosecutors barely had to say anything, since someone else was doing their job for them. The one who, constitutionally, is supposed to be separate. After all, the prosecution does not belong to the judicial branch. But paper can handle anything. The old saying “the judge prosecutes, the judge rules,” which you might expect to find somewhere in central Africa, seems to have found a comfortable home here as well.
Amid all this, there is also a bit of luck in misfortune. According to the anonymous letter, the plan was to wrap up the trial back in December – with a pre-written verdict they could tweak as needed. But the protest rallies in front of the court delayed everything. And during this delay – from January until now – several hearings took place that exposed the prosecution’s claims as lies. While most witnesses could hardly remember anything, as they saw Trenta as something insignificant (since there were many other, much larger deals where financial damage could have been far more substantial), at least two made it clear that the Trenta case is a complete farce. I am talking about appraiser Izidor Salobir and urban planner Lidija Dragišić. Both confirmed that the land had development potential, and refuted the claim that nothing could be built or restored on the Tonder property. And, miraculously, the land was sold twice during Imos’s bankruptcy proceedings (first to the company Nepremičnine, and then from them to a private owner), and at a price comparable to what it sold for in 2005.
And here is the most telling part: not one of the prosecutors even bothered to object – because it was understood that, thanks to the political backdrop, the battle was already won in advance.
Now pay attention: many will recall that the transitional left already claimed two major victories using the Trenta affair – both of which were, in fact, defeats for Slovenia. First in 2011, with media reports about Janša’s apartment, while Zoran Janković was being crowned the new “messiah.” When Janković failed to become prime minister and Janša eventually did, the affair was picked up by then head of the anti-corruption commission (CPC), Goran Klemenčič. In 2014, it ended with Janša going to prison and Klemenčič becoming justice minister. Meanwhile, the prosecution continued pushing the Trenta case, only to later dismiss it.
All this is unfolding in a rather “septic” time politically. Celebrity-tabloid media are now confirming that Urška Klakočar Zupančič and Bor Zuljan are indeed a couple, while Zuljan’s daughter – publicly trashed by Marko Crnkovič – will likely never receive an apology. Robert Golob, who is essentially “Janković’s houseplant,” now seems aware that he has nothing left to lose, and that his political career will likely end with the next election. On the other hand, a new messianic figure, Vladimir Prebilič, is warming up to enter national politics. And he knows very well that the Trenta verdict could be his golden ticket into the political arena. Unless…
Unless the revelations from the anonymous letter ignite a major revolt among citizens. If we once again crouch down like hens, then what our writer Ivan Cankar wrote more than a century ago will sadly still apply: “Born as servants, raised as servants, made to serve. The master may change, but the whip remains – and will remain forever; because the back is bent, accustomed to the lash, and even longs for it!”
Palm Sunday, the beginning of Christ’s Passion, is here. We are entering Holy Week. And we must be aware that we, too, have our own Caiaphases and Pilates in the judiciary – those who wash their hands of it all. And that this may steer our future in the direction of “deepest Africa.” Will we resist it – or accept Cankar’s (self-)accusation of the Slovenian people as a nation of servants?