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For all former Yugoslavs, and especially for Serbs, the Albanians of Kosovo were once “our blacks”. Today, they are portrayed as sworn enemies of Serbia – a myth that is shamelessly used by nationalist politicians, even during the negotiations that are already underway on the status of Kosovo. If someone in Western Europe asks how this transformation happened, I will answer you, because I have seen and heard how it happened in my country.

The former Yugoslavia was a state of ethnic and cultural diversity. Marshal Tito called this diversity the Yugoslav “melting pot”. In reality, it was never so pleasant. After Tito’s death, the diversity of the country was tragically instrumentalized; the people were divided on the basis of ethnicity and culture into groups that economically belonged to a hierarchy, from the most prosperous to the poorest. Thus, Yugoslavia after Tito became a vertical European state.

At the top of the vertical was Slovenia, the most economically advanced republic. Descending southward came Croatia, Bosnia-Herzegovina and Serbia in the center, and Montenegro and Macedonia in the far south, areas that were chronically “weak”. “The further south, the worse” (“Sto juznije, to tuznije”) went a popular proverb, reflecting the scale that the original Yugoslav racism built.

Thus, the Slovenes looked down on the Croatian peasants; the Croats transferred their hatred to the Serbs, who made it their own and enjoyed mocking the Macedonians and Montenegrins. The Bosniaks, on the other hand, suffered the contempt of everyone else at their expense. But at the very bottom of the scale were the Albanians who lived in the southern province of Kosovo.

Their language was not Slavic. They were poorer than the rest of us. Their culture was strange. And in the face of the various types of South Slavs, the southernmost ethnic group of Albanians was condemned to play the role of absolute outcasts. We Yugoslavs almost always based our opinions about Albanians on offensive clichés. We usually called them contemptuously “Siptar” or “Shiptar”.

When we did not openly hate them, we simply thought that they did not deserve to be hated. Even in the best case, we never had a dialogue between “us” and “them”. But, just as the Yugoslavs of Tito’s time did not notice the existence of Albanians, so today, the cultural racism of that time seems harmless in the face of the violence and massacres that the Serbs inflicted on the Albanians of Kosovo at the end of the last century.

Hatred of Albanians grew especially during the years when nationalism was on the rise in each republic of the former Yugoslavia, and took on tyrannical proportions with the rise to power of Slobodan Milošević. During the 1990s, politicians and the media began to openly use the term “Shqiptar” in a derogatory manner, a designation that fueled public paranoia against Albanians. More and more people began to talk about Albanians as if their only reason for existence was to attack us Serbs.

One of the legends that circulated during Milošević’s rule was this: “Once upon a time there were fewer Albanians than Serbs in Kosovo. Over the years (as a result of a never-explained miracle!) Albanians came to Kosovo from Albania and settled here, on our land.” In our eyes, they had animalistic qualities, including the determination of bees and the reproductive abilities of rabbits. Their ability to multiply gave us shivers of horror.

At the same time, you could not be a proud Serb if you had not developed and preached your hatred for the “Shtats”. And so the media propaganda of the “Slobo” era made the Albanians the historical enemies of the Serbs, so much so that without these enemies the existence of the Serbs themselves would have been practically unthinkable.

What would Batman be without the Joker? Thus the Albanians were no longer amusing clowns, but they were transformed into terrible devils, unstoppable in their mission to take away from us the historical territory of the Kosovo plain, the “cradle of our culture”, which belonged to us as a historical right! Determined to resolve the resentment against the Albanians once and for all, Milosevic prepared a fantastic plan.

The Serbian police and army, aided by the media, would be allowed to discriminate and humiliate Albanians without any request. Albanians could be fired and arrested, their property could be confiscated and their villages destroyed. Completely irresponsibly, the president started with violence and destruction in Kosovo, and spread this throughout the Yugoslav territory. After Dayton, there was a short break, but in 1999, he returned to where it all began, in Kosovo.

But Kosovo also spelled the end of Milosevic after 13 years in power. When NATO bombed Serbia at the end of March 1999, the Serbian state lost control of the Kosovo province. Thousands of Serbs and Roma fled Kosovo and any hope, however small, that Albanians and Serbs could live together in the near future came to an end.

Milosevic’s game, on the other hand, ended with an epilogue at the War Crimes Tribunal in The Hague. But even then, Milosevic managed to escape responsibility, dying of a heart attack. By escaping justice, he left us Serbs with the burden of guilt. Whether we admit it or not, we citizens of Serbia bear the burden of guilt and shame.

A few years ago, the Serbian media repeatedly reported on a refrigerated tractor from which murdered women, old people and children were dumped in Lake Peruçac. The half-decomposed corpses appeared on our screens as they were pulled out of the water, accompanied by the story of the driver who had been instructed to transport the dead from Kosovo, in order to hide the crime.

One report showed a man bathing in the lake, while the dead bodies were being pulled out of the water. When the reporter asked him if this fact bothered him, the simple man shook his head, and smilingly said: “To tell you the truth, I don’t believe all this.” A second later, he jumped back into the water.

You might think that the man was crazy. But the opposite is true. His reaction is completely understandable. Serbian citizens have been brainwashed for a decade by politicians and the media, a decade that shows us how repeated lies can make people believe lies they have invented themselves. The man who was bathing was simply using a skill he had been learning for 10 years.

Denial is one of the new Serbian qualities. It is so new that we do not have our own word for it, but we must use the English word, “denial”. This fundamental denial, this coldness in the face of human pain, this inability to show even a rudimentary pity for another, shows that we as a society are in “no man’s land”.

Sometimes it seems as if we did not want to leave the circle of the past. The issue of the status of Kosovo, and equally important, that of our relations with the Albanians of Kosovo, are the two most decisive issues of the time, which can be used as a measure of our political maturity. The reasons why we are unable to confront them constructively are deeper.

Today’s Serbian society is tired of politics, of lost wars, of chronic poverty, and of the feeling that we as Serbs must feel either victims or perpetrators. Serbian society today is afraid of change and avoids responsibility. In other words, recent events have ensured that our opinion of Kosovo Albanians will not change for decades.

Traditional contempt has now been joined by the revolt of the loser, which, together with self-pity, supports the mystical idea that we are automatically right. In certain circles, the inevitable loss of Kosovo is seen as something apocalyptic. Not long ago, Belgrade was full of posters declaring “There is no Serbia without Kosovo!”

But, whoever says this is lying, and many of us know this because above all, it is becoming increasingly evident that the status of Kosovo is something marginal when it comes to the daily life of a Serbian citizen. Many Serbian citizens, especially the young, disappointed on all sides have decided not to believe in anything anymore,just like that simple man who was bathing in the lake.

But what can you expect from a generation that grew up amidst war and destruction, fed on open hate policies, denied visas to see other countries and cultures? Unfortunately, you can’t expect much. Our young people have started to hate again, often with great pleasure. Surveys of high school students make the hairs on the head stand up – and match the impressions created in everyday life.

Over 30 percent of elementary school students think that they “should not be friends with Albanians, nor should they visit them.” Almost 1/3 of young people think that Chinese – the only relatively large group of foreigners in Serbia – should not have residence permits, even if they have not broken the law. One in three male teenagers, and one in two female teenagers, look down on homosexuals and those infected with HIV.

Seeing how contemporary Serbian society has managed to deform the thoughts and emotions of young people makes you shudder. Maybe the solution is to wait and be patient. Maybe we can simply hope that a new generation will grow up in more peaceful and healthier circumstances. Maybe the only thing we have left to believe is that our grandchildren will be our real children.

*The author is a writer born in Pula, Croatia, in 1965. His novels have won several awards and have been translated into several languages ​​of the world. He lives in Belgrade.