I look into the eyes of those who threaten me

If anyone can testify to what local journalists go through when they dare to do their job professionally—reporting in the public interest, rather than in the interest of the authorities—it is Verica Marinčić, editor of the IN Media portal from Inđija. The list of threats and insults, both online and in the field, along with the attacks and SLAPP lawsuits she has faced, painfully illustrates what it means to be a journalist in a small community where everyone knows each other, power is held by the local tough guy, and institutions perform their duties, at best, partially. Nevertheless, Verica Marinčić knows exactly why she is in journalism, what journalism actually is, and has the guts to persist in it. Serious guts.

At this moment, she is facing SLAPP lawsuits—one penalty has been paid, three have reached first-instance verdicts and are awaiting appeal, and four more are pending—whose plot somewhat resembles a comedy by Larry Charles: during the 2023 pre-election campaign, young karate practitioners found themselves at a reception with the then-mayor of Inđija, Vladimir Gak. Among the gifts for the children's sports success was honey for potency, "Fruškogorski skočko." The IN Media portal received that information immediately but waited until after the elections to publish it so that, as Marinčić explains, the children would not be further exploited for political purposes. Then, following the publication, the lawsuits began.

VERICA MARINČIĆ: After the publication, some parents protested, made a few threats, and then sued us. A total of seven parents for eight children. They wanted to know who found the gift unacceptable, but we did not want to disclose that information. The lawsuits claimed that by using a photograph—taken from the municipality's website and shared by other local media—we targeted and harmed the children. The court took the stance that, although the text was true, such a photograph could not be placed under that text because it was not affirmative. During the trial, the children stated that, after that article, their sports achievements were disregarded and that the national team selector mocked them. At that point, I told the judge that this story has a broader context because if a selector targets and mocks children, then the problem is not the photograph. In short, we were found guilty, we paid the penalty based on the first appellate verdict, the appeal confirmed the amount of 161,300 dinars, and we paid it thanks to donations from people in Inđija, from Serbia, Europe, and even the world. Many people responded to that initiative. My assumption is that the verdicts for all lawsuits, as well as the appeals, will be the same as for this first one.

“VREME”: In previous years, you have been the target of various attacks, you were even expelled from the municipal building, where you were physically attacked, and there are everyday threats… What is the situation like in recent months?

Although it is the same ruling party, the mayor of Inđija has changed, and regarding him and his close associates, the situation is more relaxed. I am at least sure that they would not publicly physically assault me. As for the public discourse, the situation is roughly the same—there are supporters and critics of our work, which is normal, and there are also extremists who write that we are Ustasha, that we should be killed, slaughtered… Although these things are not normal, we have become accustomed to them. We have decided to bypass the courts and confront those issues face-to-face instead.

What does that look like?

For example, just the other day, I saw a man who has been writing for years, under his name, that we are Ustasha and that we should be killed, detailing where each of us lives, our biographies… When I went to the police to consult whether I should report him, I was told in a private conversation that he had been part of Ratko Mladić's security, that he has Vietnam syndrome, and that it would be better not to proceed. And he continued as before. Then I approached him while he was sitting in a café with friends, and quite loudly, so half the town could hear, I told him to stop doing that and that any further mention of us being Ustasha, or any threats, would not be ignored. His friends later threatened me on social media, but we know who they are. So my colleague and I decided to personally confront those who write under their real names. It’s much easier for them to be bold behind a keyboard than in public.

Over all these years, are there examples in your case where, as the famous phrase goes, institutions did their job?

It happened once, two or three years ago, that a man who is not close to the authorities threatened me over Facebook (due to an article about a local priest who, under the influence of alcohol, caused a scandal in a store). I reported him, he admitted to it, but I did not want to seek monetary compensation because the man is a construction worker and has four children. It’s not about the money; it’s about making someone aware that they have overstepped.

Also, we have a very good and close collaboration with the police in Inđija—since 2017, we have gone through all the points regarding the protection and safety of journalists, and it works excellently. This cooperation was evident when a police officer reacted on the spot when an older man hit me and yelled that I was Ustasha, and he also attacked my colleague. We did not want to report him—I felt sorry for him. He is old and poisoned, as if reciting headlines from "Informer." Among a crowd of children protesting with icons and Serbian flags, he saw Ustasha.

But since the whole incident ended up in the media, they told us we had to give a statement. We did so. And just the other day, my colleague and I received an official document stating that, in the name of the people, we are not Ustasha!

In any case, the police do react, but the problem arises in the prosecutor's office. For instance, when I was expelled from the municipality of Inđija, the prosecutor's office decided that everything was fine. And since, as the prosecutor says, that is not disputed, I now calculate that with that document, I can enter wherever I want, into a public company, and if I don't like someone, I can grab them by the ears and throw them out.

What are the other difficulties, and possibly advantages, if there are any, of being a journalist locally?

We are all alone here. Although Inđija has 16 registered media outlets on paper, in reality, most produce nothing, but they exist on paper, and some receive funding. In the field, there are four journalistic teams, and unfortunately, although we are from the same town and are colleagues, we are two sides. None of them, for example, at the moment when I was expelled from the municipality, said a simple: “Hey, wait, that’s really not right.”

That is the difference between us and, say, Belgrade or Novi Sad, where there is support and solidarity among colleagues. Here, it took Vanja Đurić, then a journalist at N1, to come and stand in my defense.

Yet, despite all this, there is an upside to this whole downside: all of us in a small community know very well who is who, so those reactions are mostly expected according to the characters of those people. But that is why it has a significant impact when a local media outlet in a small community is supported by large national media that are trusted, as well as by associations and organizations.

Research and surveys show that the position of female journalists in Serbia is particularly poor—they are more often exposed to threats, attacks on two fronts: both as journalists and as women. They are more likely to consider leaving the profession. What is your experience?

I have noticed that something is wrong, but I did not immediately interpret it as a gender issue until a colleague pointed out to me: the attitude towards me and towards him is completely different. When I ask something, you can literally hear the eye-rolling as soon as I open my mouth; it is all visible on their faces, those facial expressions speak for themselves. And when he asks, even though there are still no answers, the atmosphere is different, there is servility and at least some culture of dialogue.

Personally, I don’t care what they think of me because they cannot think worse of me than I think of them, and that’s not baseless, it is based on what they do. They have only further convinced me that they are misogynists and that they have a serious problem with women. Once, the deputy president of the Inđija municipal assembly stated that someone writes about children but does not have any, referring to me. Or, for example, the derogatory comments about my appearance, my dark circles… All of these are primitive, low, and nonsensical insults. If someone does not have children, does that mean they are less valuable, that they should remain silent? I think to myself, he doesn’t have a brain either, yet he gives himself the right to speak about everything.

What strategies do you employ to cope with those attacks that, as you described, are not normal, but you have almost gotten used to?

It has become so routine and daily that I don’t have the time to stop and analyze it. This is a time of chain reaction: you give me an action, I give you a reaction. The situation in society is such that I don’t want anyone to think that I should look over my shoulder on the street because someone wrote something, that I should wonder if, when a dog barks, someone is going to invade my house, or whether my father has been attacked when he is 15 minutes late from a walk… I refuse to live in fear. I am not pathetic; I just live and work in a society where some people have distorted minds. Neither my colleague nor I are the type of personalities who will tuck our tails between our legs and give up. We know we work in the public interest and why it is important for people to be informed about what is happening.

This system of extinguishing media, pressuring, inundating with lawsuits, pulls our focus to the other side, to fear, to self-censorship, to not being able to ask, to not being able to move, and ultimately—to not exist. There is no point they have not poked at; I reached my limit when they started going after graves, insulting our dead.

For those who threaten us by name, I will look them in the eye. As for those who lack the courage to even write under their own name, I truly do not take them seriously.

Finally, what is it like to be in journalism in the last few months? Is anything different given the climate in society?

The moment the roof fell and everything started to unfold, we held an editorial meeting and agreed: this time we must choose a side. I have been working in sports journalism, I have always passionately supported "Partizan" and have never shown sympathy on the field, even though many times I wanted to clap and cheer, but journalism does not allow that. However, this is a situation—the most difficult in my twenty years in journalism—in which you must clearly define yourself. We cannot support or mitigate what is happening to the citizens of this country. Because the state is not the authorities; the state is the citizens.

The second, much easier decision is that we do not want to report on anything that Aleksandar Vučić does, says, or where he appears. He has not existed for us since March 1, when he insulted colleagues from RTS.

We have assessed that these decisions are the best possible for the public.

Source: Vreme.