The memory of ordinary, everyday intercultural or interreligious relationships, in brief
This village witnessed close friendships between its Albanian (Muslim) and Serbian (Orthodox Christian) residents until the armed conflict of 1998-99. Residents learned each others’ languages, worked, ate and drank together, attended each others’ weddings, experiencing a common life.
The context in which these relationships made a difference at the time
Movljane (in Serbian) – Mohlan (in Albanian) – is a small village 9 kilometres from the nearest town, Suhareke/Suva Reka. Muslim and Christian families have lived together here for centuries, and socialising and mutual support made life and work easier for residents – both those engaged in agriculture and those with other professions. This continued through the hardships of wartime and post-war Communism.
What has happened since, which makes the memory valuable
In March 1999, Kosovar independence fighters attacked the village, and Serbian residents fled. In many mixed villages, a common life was ended. The Ristic family recalled (The Fates Behind the Numbers, p. 154):
Slobodan Ristic (SR): I am a man of pure soul. I have not insulted anyone nor was I insulted by anyone who is Albanian. I lived more with them than with Serbs. Life was so good… it was extraordinary. They used to come to us, and I would go to them, we spent time together, we drank, we ate, moved freely, no one said anything! We used to go to each other’s weddings… If we had that life again, I would gladly go back today! I was born in the village of Movljane, municipality of Suva Reka. After graduating from the school of education, I got a job there. There I taught the Serbian language to the Albanian children, until the war broke out. With these friends of mine, my co-workers, we were very close! We spoke Albanian; in the Movljane central area, they were 4-5,000 Albanians, only 15 Serb homes. Nothing bad ever happened. Mira Ristic (MR): The conflict came out of nowhere. First they left the schools, the workplaces, then the rest. SR: We used to drink in their houses, but the politics made it happen. There were mercenaries, it wasn’t the neighbours. MR: Yes. We worked together. We had a common life. Back then you were a human. It did not matter where you are from, what you are. SR: When the terrorists attacked us on 31 March 1999, we just left in our house slippers, and went through the woods, just like that. We then left in a Fica, us all packed inside, slowly we went on. Our house was full, we left four cows behind.
We spent 14 years in collective centres. The worst was Mladenovac. They treated us like cattle! God forbid that this happens even to an enemy! Not even pigs would eat that food. MR: We had just one room, the five of us. The children, the granny, and us. We cooked there, we lived there, slept like that. Common bathroom, common restrooms, it was horrific. Dirty. SR: Here the Danish Council gave us this pre-assembled house. Back there in Kosovo we had two twostory houses in the village, and an additional seven hectares of land. My father built it from ground up, with walls of solid rock, half a meter thick. Not like here, eh…
How might the memory be used in bringing people together in practice now?
The Memory Bank project would like to know if this can be of use in your context, bringing students together, or promoting new initiatives that can be inspired by the cooperative life of Movljane/Mohlan before 1999.
Additional context/Some additional reading
Agathe C. Mora, The Fates Behind the Numbers, 2013, p. 154.