Amnesty International Slovenia in cooperation with the erased, organizations of the erased, activists and others organizes several events, among other exhibition with portraits of rhe erased at Gallusovo nabrežja in Ljubljana.
Thirty Years of Solitude: Portraits of the erased, through the photography of Borut Krajnc
On 26 February 1992, the Slovenian authorities illegally deleted 25,671 people, including 5,360 children, from the register of permanent residents of Slovenia. The consequences of the erasure were dire. They lost their jobs, social security and health insurance, as well as access to education. Many were driven out of the country, separated from their loved ones, and the rest lived under the daily threat of deportation.
The erased won their case at the Slovenian Constitutional Court and at the European Court of Human Rights, but now, 30 years later, full redress is yet to be achieved: only about half have regained their permanent residence, many exiles have not been able to return to Slovenia, many families remain separated. Some of the erased have received meagre compensation – most have received nothing. Of those in Slovenia, some have remained, to this day, without official status and the legal rights associated with it. The erasure has never been properly investigated, and no one has admitted responsibility for it.
In this exhibition we peer through the lens of Borut Krajnc to glimpse some of the memories and experiences of the erased, and their attitudes towards the erasure thirty years on. And they testify that, for each of them, the struggle caused by the erasure continues to this day.
Katarina Keček
On the way back from the K4 Club I was stopped by military officers. Because I didn’t have my documents they took me to Trdinovo. In the morning they took me, along with others, in a police van to the Croatian border, and then in another van to Slavonski Brod. Yet again they had deported me, and yet again I returned on foot.
Katarina Keček
At the time of the erasure Katarina was a first-year journalism student. In just a single day she found herself with no home to live in, no money, separated from her parents and with no social security. For five years she had no home, no identity documents and no insurance. She slept in dormitories, in basements, and during the summer in a car.
Ljubinko Tomić
Last year I wanted to go to France for my brother’s funeral, but having only a temporary residence permit they wouldn’t allow me to travel.
Ljubinko Tomić
Before the erasure Ljubinko had worked in France, Algeria, Morocco, Mauritania, Brazil and elsewhere. His work was installing gas pipelines. After the erasure he no longer went abroad. He still doesn’t have permanent residence; for the past five years he’s had just temporary residency status. Before this he didn’t have any valid form of ID.
Aleksandra Todorović Novak
“The stigma was the worst. They spat at my father, they beat him up, not just once but many times over. Now, I am proud of him.”
Aleksandra Todorović Novak
It is regrettable that, 30 years since the erasure, the erased people and their children have not received any comprehensive redress for these injustices. Some things can’t be fixed, but it is imperative that at least what is possible to put right be done so unconditionally.
Budimir Vuković
I am aware that the erasure was not committed by the Slovenian nation, but by a handful of politicians and officials.
Budimir Vuković
Because of the erasure, Budimir has not had the opportunity of consistent employment. He could not get married, start a family or establish himself in his career. He became a stateless person, a person without citizenship of any country. He is a writer, and now makes a living working for Kralji ulice, a humanitarian organisation and magazine that supports homeless people. He still has only temporary residence, no social security or permit to work. Nor does he have rights to a pension or access to a non-profit housing scheme. The erasure is still ongoing for him.
Mirjana Učakar
I owned an apartment and lived there without a permit. Whenever someone rang at the door I froze. I was even scared of the postman. A neighbour dropped articles about the erasure in my mailbox and reported me to the police. A police officer came to the house and was shocked when I explained what had happened to me, saying only: ‘Madam, try and sort out your papers somehow’, whereas he could have taken me straight to the border. We were dependent on the understanding and goodwill of others.
Mirjana Učakar
Mirjana’s documents were destroyed by officials who had known her all their lives because her mother was secretary to the mayor. Born in Ptuj to a Slovenian mother and a Serbian father, she had to obtain Croatian citizenship in order to apply for permanent residence in Slovenia. She befriended Aco Todorović, however it was eight years before they confided in each other that they had both been erased.
Cvijetan Blagojević
“When I remember, it’s awful. Persecution, harassment, and so on. You have a trade, you pay taxes, but you have to work through someone else. From 1991 to 2002 I wasn’t able visit my mother’s and father’s grave.”
Cvijetan Blagojević
Today, Cvijeto does not blame the police – they did what they had to do. He had no papers, as they had torn them up – his identity document, his passport, everything. What trauma it was for his children – they often cried. He got divorced too, the erasure being the cause. He could not buy his apartment, and therefore he cannot leave it to his children. To Cvijeto the erasure was economic genocide.
Irfan Beširević
They didn’t just take away our permanent residence. They took away our personal identity. They took away our pride.
Irfan Beširević
Without documents, Irfan hid in basements and under stairs. He didn’t eat for days. Unable to see a doctor, he survived thrombosis without medical attention. At the time, he feared it was the end for him. It was especially hard for him when he would walk past a bar and see people happily eating and drinking, while he was hungry.
Pajo*
Before the erasure I had a stall at Ljubljana market. I had a good life. Now I live in a trailer. The Kralji ulice organisation provided me with some polystyrene to insulate the trailer, and they put polyvinyl on the roof. I didn’t have documents for 26 years, and now I have just temporary residence.
Pajo*
Some of the erased have been living in Slovenia without official status for 30 years. There is no legal basis to protect them from removal from the country, so they remain in an extremely precarious position. The journey to receiving a permanent residency permit takes at least seven years.
* We have changed the name to protect Pajo’s true identity, for fear that public exposure could undermine his already vulnerable position.
Trivo Damjanić
I had such terrible problems that I wanted to just give up. When I had to replace my car registration plates the tormenting began: asking when I will go to Bosnia, threats to evict me, asking what I’m looking for here, saying they’ll come for me. They came to my door; I changed the locks. They sprayed the word RAUS on my front door.
Trivo Damjanić
In 1992 they took away Trivo’s housing rights, after he and his wife, also erased, had paid into the Cinkarna residence fund, and had twice made a downpayment into the fund on moving into the apartment. Today they are still paying rent on the same apartment. Since the erasure they have paid over €70,000 in rent.
Ratko Stojiljković
We used up all our money paying a lawyer to arrange permanent residence for us, to the extent that our electricity was cut off. There was only one salary in the family, so by the 6th grade of elementary school I also started work, so that we could survive.
Ratko Stojiljković
The erasure directly cut into the lives of not only 25,671 people, but also the lives of their children and relatives. They also took on the hardships and fears of the parents, and also suffered a financial disadvantage. The children of the erased were not entitled to child benefit allowance, nor were they included in the compensation scheme.
Slavica Đuričič
“It was in Bosnia that I registered as a refugee from Slovenia, but I still had to pay for my child’s doctor visits. I worked on farms to make money. All those years I just wept. My daughter grew up with me and wept with me. For 17 years I lived without documentation, without income, without child benefit allowance, without health insurance.”
Slavica Đuričič
Slavica filed a lawsuit for damages, a lawsuit that dragged on for four years. She relied on a lawyer, who was convinced that she and her daughter would win. When she found out the year before last that the court had rejected her case, and how much she now owed the state attorney’s office due to the lost lawsuit, she was mentally crushed. Up until the end of last year she was repaying the state attorney’s office with borrowed money, and she is still repaying the debt today.
Mahi Berisha
The most difficult moment was when the police came to our asylum home in the middle of the night and took us to Germany where, due to the erasure, we had to seek asylum. My son was three months old, and we were given no water or food during the journey.
Mahi Berisha
Mahi is the wife of the late Ali Berisha, one of the six who won their cases before the European Court of Human Rights. But this victory did not allow Ali to return to Slovenia together with his family – a law that “regulated” the status of the erased allowed only the return of him and his son, born in Slovenia, but not his wife or children born abroad. Not until 2014 were all of them able to return, following the intervention of President Pahor.
Marko Perak
Since I had no right to work, I worked illegally in Austria. They caught me, the inspectors took me to the border crossing, and I told them what had really happened to me. When I told them about the erasure I was not fined or banned from entering Austria.
Marko Perak
Marko Perak, Aleksandar Todorović and Mladen Balaban set up the very first association of the erased. “We met in my apartment in Mežica in December 2001 and agreed to establish the association. In 2002 we had the founding assembly. Rights must be fought for. For me, the essence of this struggle was to preserve my family – to stay together. That’s how it was.”
Živa Kerner
I felt excluded. They kept asking me what exactly my mum wanted, and that they would send her to where she came from. I would barely survive. The will and strength shown by my mother helped me through.
Živa Kerner
Year after year the children of the erased, who shared anxieties and hardships, did not at all understand what had happened, what they had done wrong. They grew up in low income homes, enjoying very few holidays, trips, etc., while their parents tried to solve problem after problem. They, too, lived in fear of what might yet happen, as the unthinkable had already happened to them before.
Zvonko Bago
In the past my father had always been in a good mood. He loved to play the mouth organ, always traditional Slovenian folk songs. After the erasure he became very anxious and the instrument fell silent. By the age of 90 he was bitter and despondent.
Zvonko Bago
For many years Zvonko took care of his father Ivan Bago, who was erased and left without social security and health insurance. Once, when he needed antibiotics, he even tried to get them from a vet. He didn’t get them. ‘Erasure is like dying, one droplet at a time’, he says. ‘I saw this process from start to finish with my father.’
Mladen Balaban
“It’s important that we prove to people, including former friends and acquaintances, who thought we were to blame for the erasure, that this is not correct. The rulings of the Slovenian Constitutional Court and the European Court of Human Rights confirm this, and that fills me with satisfaction.”
Mladen Balaban
They said the erased people were themselves to blame for their situation, even after the courts found the erasure to be illegal, unconstitutional and discriminatory. For years it was hard to live with that.
Niko Jurkas
In June 1956 I attended Holy Communion in Brežice. At that time the executioners of my destiny were not yet born.
Niko Jurkas
At the time of the erasure Niko employed 28 people in his company. For ten years after the erasure he did not have an identity card, a health insurance card or a driving licence. For five years he worked illegally in his own company, so at least he could make a living. He had to lay off one employee due to improper documentation. It was only years later that he fully appreciated how the erasure had turned their lives upside down.
S.S.
Because I had no papers and no money I couldn’t go to high school, but instead worked illegally for many years in a bar. I also had to take care of my parents, who had also been erased and had lost their jobs. For eight years I went around speaking to countless officials asking them for proper ID. They always said, ‘Madam, you don’t exist!’ What do you mean I don’t exist? Did I die?!
S.S.
5,360 children were erased. S.S. was erased on her 14th birthday, along with her parents and siblings. Her brother was granted citizenship, but the rest of the family never received a response to their applications. No one understood what had happened to them. Everyone in the family was on edge and they would argue over and over about what to do. They thought it was just happening to them. When S.S. fell ill she could not see a doctor because she didn’t have health insurance. Only once her status had been settled the doctors examined her and determined that she needed surgery.
From 25 February to 31 March there is an exhibition under the same name at the Kresija Gallery depicting the struggle of the erased and their supporters to get full redress for the injustices.