I had no idea what was going on when I was awoken by the alarm clock this morning. It was still dark outside, but my beloved had to get up early. Before she went to her office, where a busy day awaited her, she told me what she had dreamt in a few sentences. Several policemen barged into her apartment. They were in festive spirits, but they wore Nazi insignia on their uniforms. She was frightened out of her wits. “You don’t know what I went through during the war,” she concluded her story with a frown. Her dream came in the wake of yesterday’s presidential elections, it goes without saying. Together we watched on her laptop the tumultuous celebration at the winner’s headquarters. Thousands of people were there. Untold Croatian flags were waving and nationalist songs were sung by everyone present, including the new president, whose speech revolved around a single word: Croatia. The nationalist jubilation was frightening even to me, who was far away when the war of independence was fought and won.