In memory of Gordan Lederer,
by Dario Topic, Journalist, Osijek

Gordan Lederer filmed his own death. The ominous sound of the sniper's bullet is recorded in the last frame of the video film that has been seen all over the world. THe bullet entered the reporter's body with a dull thud and the camera fell to the ground. The TV picture lost its balance, the screen turned over several times, and then came silence and the sky. After a few moments the picture turned over once more, the wounded Lederer was obviously trying to aim the lens at the place from where the shot had come. He managed to do so for a moment, but only for a moment. The lens veered inexorably towards the sky again, this time for ever. Gordan went to heaven, too. Through the lens of a TV camera. He went to a place reserved for the stout-hearted, the courageous, the able and the intelligent when evil decides to seize what is good and to collect an imagined debt. To whom? For whom? For what reason? Why kill a reporter doing his job? A cameraman and reporter. A man who was a whole little TV-crew rolled into one. A media man. THe most vulnerable and the bravest. He fell for the truth. And he became the only one in a series of victims who will guarantee of peace. If peace ever comes.

The enemy knew whom they meant to kill. Through the sniper's telescopic sight they saw a man with a camera. They also saw the three members of the Guard reconnaisance patrol that preceded him. Between these tow targets they chose the one armed only with a box which was recording the truth and transmitting it to the world. But they did not, and cannot, kill the box. It recorded the tragic death of its operator. And that is the truth. One of the greatest truths. It has gone out into the world. Like the sharp point of an arrow striking directly and mercilessly int the eye and the heart.

How can one end the obituary of a man in one's own profession without saying that the same end lies in wait for each one of us just around the corner? Not the street corner in a town or village, but the corner created by the shackles in the human mind. Or maybe they are not people like us, after all. And maybe there are no corners, because the mind has long been imprisoned in akind of metal casing like like the sniper's cartridge. And then they shoot reporters, don't they?

Gordan Lederer is a victim of Mindlessness. His in memoriam is at the same time the first line for a ballad about the year 2000.