When I woke up on November 6th, I expected to see so many disappointed and angry people posting online. Still, even I was surprised by the sheer amount of disturbed and hysterical videos. Like me, being from 1990s Bosnia (actually a real war-torn country where people had reason to fear political consequences), I understand these posts as the activities of serious people. It's difficult. It is impossible to avoid second-order embarrassment for those involved in it.
Did you know that when people are actually scared, they don't go out and publish videos of themselves screaming and threatening the “other side”?
These artificial performance arts are not products of fear. They are vile propaganda.
I was 17 years old when Bosnia held its first multiparty elections. The media was already spreading fear before the election, and it became clear early on that the three nationalist ethnic parties were the favorites. I didn't have the right to vote at the time, but even if I had, as a mixed-race child, there would have been no place for me in any ethnic party.
I don't remember who won, but I do remember waking up and there was no celebration or angry mob. Instead, a sudden change occurred. No one from outside would have noticed. people went to work. They went grocery shopping. The children went to school. But there was an unbearable silence. As fear spreads through the city, the city becomes quiet.
People don't talk about fear. Conversations will be short. There are fewer jokes. People become emotionally detached.
I remember there was no talk of anyone quitting because fear was so prevalent. They may talk in passing about going on a “short trip” to visit family, but most people just walk away and simply don't know what's going on when they're told about it. I knew. This is when I gave in to fear.
The weirdest thing I've learned about fear is that it makes you act normal, maybe Too usually. This type of fear is not felt when one's life is in immediate danger and the threat is easily perceived. Our bodies and instincts are designed to deal with that kind of fear. But in the situation I describe, that very system is designed to protect you from threats. become It's a threat. Intuitively, I knew I needed to let the system know that I was not a threat to the people operating it. Opinions have become too expensive and insults to myself and those I love have ceased to exist.
In short, I became an invisible man, and it was easy. What was even more difficult was not being able to express my fear. Acting out of fear is itself a threat. I learned to measure my speech and body language. My answers were short and vague, and I was the smallest person in every room. All the interactions were exhausting.
Actresses who perform on social media need to learn an important lesson: Anger is not fear. Disappointment is not fear. Threatening someone publicly is not something you do when you're scared. In other words, they haven't addressed it fear. They are dealing with a reality that doesn't go their way. There's a big difference.
The disappointment is also easy to understand, for those who have been resigned to a system that has led them to believe that reality is escapable: that men can become women. That we can live peacefully in a world without borders. That other people will work so you can eat. Silence is the same as violence. These people lack well-developed communication and self-awareness skills. As always, when faced with reality, they express their dissatisfaction in a non-constructive way.
Unmet emotional needs lead some people to seek approval from those who scream the loudest. But if you set up a camera to record your own screams and cries, then take the time to edit and upload it, you don't need to worry. You are ignorant and complacent.
Memes like the ones I see in the bluest parts of my social media feeds include suicide prevention hotline numbers, women shaving their heads and vowing celibacy, and terrified people resisting oppression. This includes people who pretend to be looking for a way out from the country they have fled. For centuries. These artificial performance arts are not products of fear. These are ridiculous tantrums aimed at provoking strong emotions and arousing people for political purposes. They are vile propaganda.
The real fear, as I have experienced, is being isolated and anonymous. In this digital age, and (thankfully) in a country that is still largely free, very little can be hidden or anonymous.
I am not impressed by attempts to gaslight me into believing I am in danger again.
Editor's note: This article was originally published on Chronicle: Cultural magazine.
