Balkan Universities: a Degree in Irony
The absurds of higher education in Bosnia and Herzegovina
One of the accomplishments I’m most proud of is the international literary festival Poligon which has been taking place in Mostar since 2015. Ever since it started, it developed into a mainstay on the literary map of this country, or at least that’s what I’ve been told by former participants. Some of them did their first readings in this country or this city within the program of the event and for many, it was their first visit as such. This is slightly absurd because there are people I’m close to that have been off to very far eastwards like China or Japan, but not to this city or others in the country that are next door to theirs. That’s a whole separate issue so I’ll save my nerves for that later. What was this about? Ah yes. Anyway, we usually have amazing visuals due to Zoran Zelenika, the designer behind our visual identity that’s particularly appealing this year.
He designed four posters in a colour field manner meandering somewhere between Barnett Newman’s aesthetics and Julije Knifer’s morphology. It’s virtually impossible to walk past one of these without taking notice. We live in a time where you need to stick out to make your target audience notice things that have some added value. You need a color splash like this and Zoran hit the nail on the head.
However, in our case, the nail is usually as slow as a snail which is why it takes so long to expand your outreach pool. What you need here is a strategic approach. A place that attracts people like bus stops, bars or squares, otherwise you’ll have to keep your fingers crossed they don’t keep scrolling when they see it. The digital square may be the most important platform but doomscrolling isn’t your friend and it inevitably distracts from your brand. That’s exactly what I’m trying to avoid and this year I feel hopeful about it.
Two things happened when I went to put up the posters. There are several locations where you’re most likely to see announcements for all kinds of events so that’s what I did too. You assume arts & humanities students at the two local universities would be the target audience since it likely complements their respective fields of study. I know because I was one of them too, during my studies of English and Croatian language and literature.
Admittedly, the place progressed ever since I graduated. Not because I left, but because they stepped up their game, at least in terms of infrastructure. The new building looks new and purpose-built, while most others on campus were originally built as military barracks and dorms. Across the street from the main entrance of the building, there’s a place where people put up their posters, so I did it too. And stick out it did.
The two local universities are a remnant of the post-war dichotomy that affected everything in the city, including education. Suddenly, there was a double number of everything: two universities, and two schools under one roof (that’s a thing here too) and the curricula they teach you at these schools are very particular in terms of what they include and what they ignore. Especially in history courses.
According to alumni who went through that system, things they were taught were true indeed. But it was cherrypicked similarly to the one employed by Jordan Peterson. In other words, they didn’t dive too deep into topics that don’t make a particular ethnic group look like the best thing since sliced bread. It was rather entertaining listening to couples who attended these separate classes. Like two faces of the same medal meeting in the long-lost middle ground.
However, it’s been a while since I visited the other campus and what I saw there took me by surprise. Just like my own university, this one is within an old Habsburg military complex that’s been repurposed in the meantime. With the difference that there’s a mosque in the middle and their equivalent of my college looks like a derelict immigrant asylum. At least from the outside, the building is in dire need of a makeover. Or rather a do-over, after they raze it to the ground to build something as decent as the school next door, prepped up quite nicely.
I’m friends with several members of their staff whose enthusiasm, competence and ethics embody the exact opposite of this dump because there’s no real way around a pejorative like that: the extra 10 per cent of effort many teachers aren’t exactly willing to invest to earn not just a paycheck but respect. Because that’s something money can’t buy. It’s also the reason why these people are never paid for what they invest in their calling.
This is a great indicator of values that are on top of the list of the higher education system: sometimes it’s a question of the appropriate infrastructure, lack of staff or funds. Then again, it’s also about the involvement of students and audience development. Theoretically, this should be the breeding ground for both shareholders of the future and their audience because it’s always a two-way street. Or at least that’s what I thought until I went to my campus and saw that one of my posters was pulled down.
All that was in front of a building that suggested a more serious approach judging by its appearance. But that first impression is notorious for a reason. Underneath all the new veneer, the core was still rotten. Why would anyone want to pull a stunt like this? After all, it’s a public space for those seeking improvement and education. Is it a statement about my eligibility for their standards? Don’t know and honestly don’t care. The new dean is a young guy who’s a fresh breeze compared to the antiquated establishment before him. Thanks to him, this situation was resolved.
It all goes back to the initial dilemma: if the academic world is a mirror image of society and its values, we have a problem. And no, I’m not referring to engineering, law or medicine. While they may be instrumental to the structure of the system, they’re the frame for the essence of its identity. I’m not saying these people are stupid or irrelevant. But it’s the people who get their degrees in that humble hut of a college at the other campus that shape our media landscape, and public discourse and inspire a critical discourse that’s so elusive because it disturbs the firmly established chaos necessary for maintaining the status quo. I imagine going to work over there every day and feeling like you can’t spread your wings as much as you’d otherwise be able to because you’re cornered by the institution into a rather claustrophobic frame.
It makes you work even harder and better to convince students they’re not wasting their time in a place with walls still covered with bulletholes 30 years since the noise of artillery made way for the chirping of birds. And that’s disturbing. It’s quite ironic: an institution that’s supposed to symbolise rising from the ashes of the 1990s is kind of still stuck in 1995.
Over there where I got my degree, the dean of one of the colleges owned a bar where people gathered for a drink after their exams. It’s a bit like a CEO running a kebab stand underneath the windows of his fancy corner office. Fortunately, this one is no longer holding the position that added one more notch on the list of embarassments related to this institution. When people tell me I’m pooping all over my education, I say it taught me how to think critically so against all odds, it wasn’t a waste of my time. Especially due to professors who influenced my values and challenged my beliefs.
Judging by my experieces from that little walk, the future of those pursuing a career path not very far away from gig economy, may look like blowing into a broken trumpet all the time. But we can’t measure the success of this field of science and study according to the standards applied to most other colleges. The academic world is a bit of an isolated bubble full of people who buried their whole private life underneath piles books. Primarily as a good excuse for a private life hardly worth the effort. That’s why some of them slip into alcoholism or similar addictions.
The bubble of academia is a comfort zone protecting them from a reality that doesn’t need their expertise. Yet. It’s a fight we shouldn’t abandon. Maybe some day in the future, you won’t need an eye-popping poster to attract students. But needs must. One step at a time and maybe we’ll actually get there. I am certainly hopeful. No need to waste time on prophets of doom. Better spend it on an evening at my literary festival. I promise, it’s going to be exciting.
