Now that I finally have the decision of the highest court in Croatia, which rejected my appeal against the decisions of lower courts in Istria, I am focusing on Strasbourg (“The Decision,” March 8, 2015). After the initial confusion, my mind is sharp again. To begin with, I need a good lawyer. The lawyer who has taken care of me so far may not be up to the new legal challenge. He knows Istrian courts well, but that is about it. Even Zagreb is a bit too far for him, let alone Strasbourg. Anyhow, I am still waiting to hear from him, for he appears to be quite busy at this time.

In the meanwhile, I am thinking through my letter to the Court of Human Rights in Strasbourg. That is the only bit of my appeal that is actually in my own hands rather than in the hands of lawyers. In a thousand words or so, I must explain everything that has happened to me in Motovun ever since I started my fight against crooked golf, which came to Istria together with the real estate boom originating in America in the early years of the new millennium. The then mayor of the municipality was part and parcel of the real estate scam orchestrated on the peninsula by the then leader of the Istrian Democratic Assembly, the political party that did its best to capitalize on the real estate boom for its top brass.

The legal onslaught against me is nothing but political repression, which includes the court system. My appeal in Strasbourg is not only against the former mayor of Motovun, but also against his political masters who go all the way up the political hierarchy in Croatia. The then prime minister was squarely behind the golf scam across the country. My victory in Strasbourg will thus be much bigger than is suggested by the legal case itself. And that is the only pleasure I can get from the encroaching misery at this point in time. At any rate, my letter to Strasbourg will take much of my time in the next month or so. Like a nail in the coffin, every word will have to be just right. Nay, perfect.