Macedonian politics has never been recommended for people with softer health and thinner moral tastes, but the way we got to this, the latest Government, it really contains all the tense elements of a top Hollywood political thriller: months of uncertain power struggles were followed by a series of unpredictable, sudden upheavals in which the balance of power hung on a thread like a thick catfish that rolls in the shallow mud caught on weak hooks, threatening at any moment to unhook someone and swim back into the depths of the lake. It happened to some of them, so they only had to tell fishing stories about how big the velvet was and what tablecloths they would serve if they could catch it.

In the very final of the formation of the new Government, in order not to be shortened by melodramatic elements, Nikola Dimitrov took care of the way he decided to leave the active politics at this stage of his official engagement - completely different from the "happy ending" of Radmila Sekerinska which triumphantly said goodbye to the government with the official American flag awarded with high military honors by the most important international strategic partner of the country. And their merits are comparable; only the dexterity and calculations of leaving the stage and entering history, no.

The very discussion in the Parliament about the voting of the new composition of the Government, if you abstract for a moment the contents of the usual fierce barrages of criticism and praise, testifies to the general confusion of the political actors, both those who remain in power and those who the steaks from the unreleased, unburned catfish of power smelled for a moment under their noses. Because, for years, while Zaev was playing on the field, things in Macedonian politics went as in Gary Lineker's definition of the most important side business in the world: "Politics is a simple game: 22 players chase the ball in 90 minutes, and in the end the man from Strumica always wins. "Until the last local match…

But now no one knows exactly what awaits us under the baton of the new Prime Minister Kovacevski. Both the opponents and many of his coalition "national team" still lack the "phenomenon" of Zaev, so while they lament about what it would have been like if it were, Kovacevski is in a hurry to get a job. If he keeps the pace at which he reads the introductory speeches (and that time in the party; and now in the Parliament), it is possible that things will take such a turn that while someone is waiting for a dramatic break or intermezzo between two acts, Kovacevski has already lowered the curtain. His Prime Minister's speech neatly lists the urgent problems his cabinet will solve, from pandemics and energy to standards, inflation and everything in between, but at the top is the return of public confidence in politicians to solve not their own, but their own. the problems of the citizens.

In fact, that message corresponds to the unexpected astonishment of the opposition from the real danger of Danela Arsovska "stealing" Kovacevski's stage fame with the astonishing signs not only of managerial incompetence, but also of a slight political disinterest in performing the first city function, defocusing the opposition propaganda efforts for quick early parliamentary elections due to the alleged failure of the government of "Zaev's pawn"…

As he started his term, the "queen of Mickoski" so far does not show that he understands that, if nothing else, in politics you should at least leave the impression that you are worried about solving problems, because otherwise the problems begin to solve you. If you declare yourself incompetent for anything important - pollution, transport, heating, empathy… - then the underrated "pawn" will quickly become "queen", she, in turn, will destroy the ambitions of her "king", and the velvet will continue freely to swim detached from the hook of power.

Eheeee, there are as many metaphors and allegories as you want! Chess parties in our politics are easier to lose than to gain.