IWPR - September 12th, 2006

Locals try to block "rival" Orthodox church in remote village of northern Serbia.

By Nikola Lazic and Sead Sadikovic in Lovcenac

Zeljko “Bobo” Tanovic, a painter, relishes his traditional Montenegrin brandy in a café in the centre of Lovcenac, a village in Serbia’s northern Vojvodina province.

The brandy is one of the few things in the flat plains of Vojvodina to remind Tanovic of his mountainous homeland. Tanovic, who comes from Cetinje, the old royal capital of Montenegro, has lived in Serbia for more a decade.

But he still feels a true Montenegrin, and celebrated the republic’s decision to declare independence from Serbia in a referendum this year. Though he hardly makes ends meet on his small earnings, the event made him truly happy. “Independence for my native Montenegro is the fulfilment of a lifelong dream,” he said.

Tanovic is far from the only Montenegrin in Lovcenac, where his compatriots make up 70 per cent of a population of 4,000.

Since the Montenegrins settled here in 1945, after Yugoslavia expelled the local ethnic Germans, they have retained many of the customs of their homeland.

They renamed the village from Sekic to Lovcenac, in homage to Mount Lovcen, the mountain that towers over Cetinje and which houses the mausoleum of the Montenegrin poet bishop, Petar II Petrovic, known as “Njegos”.

Now the local Montenegrins want to express their identity by building a church within the fold of the Montenegrin Orthodox Church. But this has met with opposition from the Serbian Orthodox Church, which does not recognise the existence of an independent church in Montenegro.

The new assertiveness of the Montenegrins in Lovcenac has surprised many Serbs, who are unaccustomed to thinking of them as a separate people. This is partly because they are so dispersed, unlike Serbia’s ethnic Hungarians, Bosniaks or Albanians, who live in more concentrated groups.

About 70,000 citizens of Serbia declared themselves ethnic Montenegrins in the 2002 census and almost half of these live in Vojvodina. But Lovcenac is the only settlement where Montenegrins form the majority.

The villagers are poor and barely cultivate the rich farmland that surrounds the community. Tanovic does not have an inside lavatory at his home.

The village boasts little in terms of architecture beyond a 50 metre-high watchtower and a monument to Partisan fighters in the Second World War, surrounded by flowers and inscribed with a line of Njegos’s poetry, “Blessed is the one who lives forever; He had a good enough reason to be born”.

There is a drinking fountain provided by international donors, and two restaurants, one called, predictably enough, Cetinje, where the villagers gather to discuss politics.

“We wish Montenegro would set up a diplomatic mission here in Lovcenac,” said one local.

If it is built, the Montenegrin church will be the second in the village. After the Second World War, when the authorities demolished the two German churges - one Catholic and the other Lutheran - the village had no religious centre until two years ago, when a Serbian Orthodox Church was built.

Soon afterwards, ethnic Montenegrins obtained a permit from the Mali Idjos municipality to build their own church.

But work has yet to begin, because the Serbian authorities have not sanctioned the establishment of a separate, Montenegrin place of worship in the village.

Members of Krstas, a society for preserving ethnic Montenegrin traditions in Lovcenac, argues that Montenegro had its own church before 1918, when it was a separate kingdom.

Nenad Stevovic, the local chairman of Krstas, said building the new church would help “the century-long dream of Montenegrins in Serbia to come true”.

“Constructing a Montenegrin church in Lovcenac will put a stop to the rampant assimilation of Montenegrins in Serbia,” he added.

But Milan Radulovic, Serbia’s minister of religion, says that while everyone is guaranteed freedom of conscience and faith, no Orthodox church can be built in the country without the approval of the local Serbian Orthodox authorities.

“Legally, our state recognises the [Serbian Orthodox] Church,” he added. “This means that Orthodox places of worship cannot be built without the permit of the episcopal management board and the blessing of the bishop in the diocese in question.”

Representatives of the Serbian church in Belgrade declined to comment, saying the issue should be referred to the Backa Eparchy, where the parish of Lovcenac is located.

A representative of Backa Eparchy who asked not to be named told Balkan Insight that the Montenegrin church does not exist and will never be allowed to put up a building in Lovcenac.

"The Montenegrin church is a self-proclaimed one, and will never be recognised. They did not ask us to bless the building of their church [in Lovcenac]. Even if they had asked, they would never have receive our blessing," said the source.

Pero Ladjevic, the Serbian government official responsible for human and minority rights, voiced similar views.

“They cannot create an independent autocephalous church in a place where there is already an [Orthodox] diocese, where there is a bishop, where you already have a certain form of church life,” said Ladjevic.

The privileged position that the state accords to the Serbian church, effectively giving it a veto over Orthodox rivals, angers members of Krstas, who ask why they have to seek permission from the Serbian church rather than the government.

Archbishop Mihailo, the head of the Montenegrin Orthodox Church, said the case showed that Serbia’s government is “in collusion with the Serbian church, despite laws that say there is no state religion.

“The Serbian minister for religious affairs is, in my view, just a deacon [lower ranking cleric] of the Serbian Orthodox Church and is passing on its messages, preventing the Montenegrins from building their own temple,” he told Balkan Insight.

“Because the Serbian church wants to maintain its exclusive position, the state of Montenegro must intervene to protect the Montenegrins’ religious rights.”

Archbishop Mihailo still hopes he will see the day when he conducts the first service in a Montenegrin church in Lovcenac.

Back in the village, opinion remains divided on just how important a church is for a community not known for its strong religious feelings.

Tanovic insisted that the Montenegrins wish only to exercise their rights. “Citizens have the right to form associations and to gather in public in order to display their religious beliefs,” he said, quoting the law.

“It isn’t about not liking Serbs,” he added. “The Serbs are my brothers, otherwise I would have never come to live in Serbia.”

Nikola Lazic is a journalist with Novine Vranjske in Vranje. Sead Sadikovic is a freelance journalist in Montenegro. Balkan Insight is BIRN's online publication.