Things have never been the same in Serbia since June 15, 1389, the day their empire died.
I'll spare you the details of the Battle of Kosovo Polje, when the Serbs, led by Prince Lazar, were butchered in a matter of hours by Ottoman forces on their own land.
Every June 15 in Serbia sees a commemoration of the events of more than 600 years ago, and, in the minds of at least some, the wish for a restitution of the pre-1389 state of affairs.
There are two things here apparent about the nature of people and their relationship with the past - two things I shall expand upon if the energy to write properly ever returns. Perhaps this morning is the start of that process, but most likely not.
It seems there is a psychological tic which causes us to mark the end of events, when everything is almost played out and only the tragic denouement is acknowledged. The point in history where the decline of some system or other set in, presaging an inevitable conclusion, is usually overlooked, perhaps in the case of Serbia, the death of Dusan the Mighty some three decades earlier,
Secondly, the longing for a return to the pre-1389 Serbia: without Kosovo, there exists but a trepanned microstate, embarrassing in its illegitimacy. Only the restoration of the 14th-century borders can cure it.
Again, we (because the brief history of Serbia is an analogy for the history of everything) are guilty of selecting an arbitrary point in time, and declaring that it represents a zenith.
Thus affected, the only aim of the future is a recapitulation to a specific past. Macroscopically, the politics of entire nations can be fuelled by this mania. Zooming inwards, the lives of individuals can roil on similar private, internal drama.
