My Friend Boris: Legacy of a Lost President

Jason Miko

My friend Boris Trajkovski passed away last week. I rarely called him “Boris.” I usually called him “Mr. President.” Sometimes, when we prayed, I referred to him as “my brother, Boris.” He wasn’t hung up on titles and ceremony and frankly didn’t care what people called him though I know he was a little bit hurt when some people in Macedonia referred to him as “citizen Trajkovski” during his first year in office. I think they probably regret that now. They should.

I first met Boris Trajkovski in early 1997. I had moved to Macedonia in the summer of 1996 and got to know him through an American friend of mine who had introduced me to a Macedonian friend of his who knew Boris very well. I honestly cannot remember the very first time we met, but I will never forget the last.

He wasn’t my president, but over the past seven years, I came to know Boris as a very dear friend. And while I had the high honor and privilege of seeing him go from international secretary in his party to deputy foreign minister to president, the friendship never changed. We shared a friendship that transcended disagreements, difficult periods, and misunderstandings. Boris was always there for me and he told me about two weeks ago how he loved me. And I know his love was not limited to his family or friends. He loved his fellow citizens and his country as much as his family and friends. He was a big man with a big heart.

When September 11th occurred, his was the third call I received. The first was from a friend telling me of the disaster and the second was from my parents in Arizona. Another time I remember when he asked me to give strong consideration to hiring a friend of his (long before he was president), in my organization. I didn’t hire his friend, but that didn’t change our friendship.

It is ironic in a way. Since the tragedy last week, Macedonians of all political stripes and colors, all ethnic groups, all social classes and all religious groupings have been in a funk, a state of shock, at the loss. Boris is much more popular now in death, than he ever was in life. The international community, too, is still reeling from the loss, now coming to the full realization of what a treasure we all had and took for granted. That seems to be the way life works though.

We’ve heard many people over the past week talk about Boris and say he was their friend. I believe most of them are sincere though I also know that there is, even now, some political posturing going on. I know that Boris held no grudges against anyone and even though he could get angry at people for what they said and did to him, he didn’t remain angry for very long. He was that sort of a man – forgiving, understanding and loving. It’s a shame we are only now realizing that.

Boris was a rare individual. He stood for what he believed in and he fought for the values he held dear. He was real, not phony like some politicians can be. In fact, in many ways, he wasn’t even a politician. I clearly remember, in the summer of 1999, as the Kosovo crisis was ending and thoughts were turning to the presidential elections of the fall, the enthusiasm that people had for him as a candidate. And truthfully, he hadn’t even thought of running for president himself until ordinary Macedonians started encouraging him to run. Coming from humble roots in rural Macedonia, he was truly a man of the people and for the people.

Over the past four plus years of his mandate, Boris was able to mingle with the highest and mightiest on this earth and with the most humble. And while he was comfortable in both situations – with kings and queens, presidents and prime ministers on the one hand – he enjoyed himself most with villagers and working men and women of his native Macedonia. How many other elected officials in Europe would go into villages, speaking with the common man and woman and listening to their hopes, fears and dreams? I hope that Macedonian citizens, will demand that of their next president. It is the legacy that Boris would want.

Compared to almost any other figure in the Balkans in modern history, Boris did the most to bring people together. He was respected by all ethnic groups and had a vision for his country which was 20 years ahead. He often talked about rights, together with individual responsibility, the importance of a civil society together with the need for social communication. But his most important message was one of reconciliation, love and forgiveness.

These values he held came from his deep faith and convictions. And while he was indeed a Methodist, it is not important to focus on his chosen religious denomination, but on the tenants of that faith. His deep love for the Son of God – Jesus Christ – and his recognition that man is sinful and needs salvation – prompted him to talk about and live a life of love for all mankind. I remember him – on many occasions – talking about how he was willing to “sacrifice myself” for Macedonia. And ultimately, Boris did pay the ultimate price for his fellow man and his country – he gave his life. He gave Macedonia his life that Macedonia might come together and yet live again.

Something good must come of this. It can start in Macedonia and can spread throughout the Balkans and the world. And it is this: a life lived for his fellow man, and a deep love for his family, his country and for God. The international community, in the meantime, can help continue Boris’ legacy by finally recognizing the name – the Republic of Macedonia. Boris would want this.

I was with Boris last Wednesday, until about 5:30 pm, about 14 hours before he left us for a better place. We were discussing the future, his plans, upcoming trips and the like. How short life is and how foolish the plans of man indeed! In a blinding instant it all changed, for Macedonia, for the Balkans, for the world, forever. It changed for his family, his friends, his fellow countrymen and for the international community.

For people such as myself, and my friend Boris, however, we have a hope of things yet to come. Our faith tells us that one day we will be reunited together along with many others. In the meantime, what life we have left here on earth should be dedicated to spreading his legacy, a legacy of love, forgiveness, reconciliation and friendship.

That is what my friend Boris would want.


Jason Miko is an American citizen who lived and worked in Macedonia for seven years.