The other Macedonians?

Macedonia has a “timeless” history—the region is mentioned in the bible, was the birthplace of Alexander the Great, and has been invaded and occupied for centuries over. No surprise then that it’s rather difficult to pinpoint one’s ancestors here. Look around and there are people with blue, green, brown, dark eyes; blonde, red, brown, black hair; white, yellow, brown skin. While most Macedonians are S. European in their appearance, my point is not to categorize them but, on the contrary, to set them free from any purported ethnic constraints! This isn’t really up to me though, but where I want to go with this is down the path of united historical appreciation.

Ok, to break that down, I’m talking about looking at the region and, if there’s appreciation for particular historical figures, to put them in the category of SE European, or Balkan, rather than ascribing them to an ethnic group. Let me first describe what incites me to do this. Mention “hero” in this country and generally you’ll hear the names of the revolutionaries who overthrew the Ottomans as the true heroes of Macedonian history. Everyone knows their names—Goce Delchev, Pitu Guli, Jane Sandanski, Dame Gruev, Nikola Karev—and the amazing things they did in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. But who brought these heroes to the forefront of “hero-dom”? No doubt they deserve credit for their brave actions, but it was the Socialist Yugoslav government who, in forging a Macedonian identity after WWII, helped make these individuals as famous as they are. The national anthem (“Denes nad Makedonija”—‘Today over Macedonia’ ), written in 1943, somewhat oddly uses their names in the chorus. And the most famous of these revolutionaries, Goce Delchev (for which the town where I worked as a Peace Corps volunteer, Delchevo, was re-named), was brought from his tomb in Sofia to Skopje and reburied in official ceremony here in 1946.

But these guys only lived and did what they did a little over a century ago. Balkan history and prominent figures extend far back before that, and some have even come after. The latter include Mother Theresa, who was born in Skopje and who, admittedly, has just recently gotten more credit for her Macedonian origins. Where there was for many years only a statue of her in the center of Skopje, there has just recently been built a memorial home—a stylish three-level structure with a museum and small church atop. It’s lacking in information in general, and then in English, but it’s a good start.

Another hero being recognized is the late Toshe Proeski, a pop-star cum symbol of Balkan unity who was killed in October 2007 in a car crash. He was cherished not just for his music, but for the humanitarian causes he supported and the way he brought people from the region together through his music and character. A statue is to be erected in his honor, but the location is still to be decided—in his hometown (Krushevo) or here in Skopje on the main square? I’ll head to his hometown this weekend, so should get a better idea of the sentiment there, but it’s great to see a non-militant, apolitical hero in this country. For this is another fascination of mine with all countries—how heroes are determined, propped up, and thus engrained in social memory. Making Toshe a hero is a good start down the path of establishing a true hero in post-socialist Macedonia, for, according to my students who I asked this week (this topics been on the mind), there have not been any others.

But jump back a couple millennia and there are two contenders for Macedonian herodom—Alexander the Great and the less known Emperor Justinian. The former is already a well know figure the world over and particularly here, and the current government has gone on a crusade to make today’s Macedonians the pure descendants of Alexander. They’ve done so to annoy the Greeks, who claim Alexander as theirs (and more rightly so, though he wasn’t actually Greek either, but a pre-Slavic Macedonian of Illyrian decent). The main airport and highway here have been renamed in his honor, and talk of erecting a statue of him is indeed being seriously considered.

Emperor Justinian, however, is never mentioned in the public light. There are no claims to him, despite his birthplace being just outside of Skopje in a village once called Tauresia (under the Roman Empire). Where exactly this is today is a bit uncertain, but given his legacy as a Byzantine ruler who established the Justinian Code—the rule of law that the Western legal system is founded on—and his accomplishments as emperor, he deserves more fame. During his reign Istanbul (then Constantinople) was the seat of Eastern Orthodox Christianity, and he oversaw the construction of the largest Christian church of the time—the Hagia Sophia—an amazing structure that stands to this day, despite its modification into a mosque under Turkish Ottoman rule.

My thinking on these and no doubt many other individuals from the region is that they deserve more attention. But Macedonia is somewhat unique post-socialism—there hasn’t been much of an attempt to revise the particular history that Tito and members of the communist party imposed on the country. Communist monuments still stand throughout the city and country, I’ve never heard anyone talk of taking them down nor of doubting their legitimacy, and on a political note, there’s been little talk of lustration here. It’s as if everything fell apart but no one really thought to ask why, to pick up the pieces, and reconstruct their country, society, history, identity. This may no doubt counter some of the hard work and changes that have come about in the last 18 years of Macedonia’s independence, but there’s a strange satisfaction with the status quo here. If things don’t change with the country’s visa regime and people don’t get out to see what’s happening elsewhere in Europe and the world, this country may just become more of a time capsule than it already is.