By Biljana Vankovska
Anyone from the former Yugoslavia will immediately understand the title. Mujo is a legendary (though fictional) Bosnian character, the protagonist (together with his inseparable friend Haso) of countless jokes that generations of Yugoslavs grew up with. Wars took many lives, erased towns, and destroyed futures, yet Mujo survived even the darkest days of the Bosnian conflict. One particular joke has stayed with me for more than three decades, because it captures, better than most analyses, the arrogance of superficial Western “expertise.”
The scene unfolds in a small Bosnian town, in a local tavern where a foreigner (from the West, of course) is instantly recognisable. One day Mujo walks in, notices the stranger, and—warmly, as locals do—approaches him. He asks when he arrived and how long he plans to stay. “Yesterday,” the foreigner says. “Tomorrow, I leave.”
“And what are you doing here?” Mujo asks.
“’I’m writing a book about Bosnia.”
“And what will the book be called?”
The answer is unforgettable: Bosnia: Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow.
This is how ignorance dressed as authority looks. A brief visit or two, or no visit at all, some borrowed impressions, a few media clichés, and suddenly one claims mastery over an entire country, its people, its history, and its future. So let me be unequivocal: I have never been to Iran. I say this openly, unlike many loud voices who pretend otherwise. I work with Iranian colleagues; Iran has long been a dream destination for me. I hoped to visit it before the pandemic, but now I genuinely wonder whether such a moment will ever come....
