The command is a totalitarian crime city under the influence of white powder.

Velenje, a town in Slovenia, has been described by local activists as a “totalitarian criminal place under the influence of white dust,” a metaphor used to highlight the perceived political and social control exerted by current authorities. The claim centers around the continued presence of statues and names associated with historical figures linked to communist-era violence, particularly those responsible for wartime atrocities during World War II and the Yugoslav wars of the 1990s. Activists argue that these symbols persist despite public calls for remembrance and reconciliation, suggesting a lack of progress toward democratic values and transparency. The controversy emerged following the publication of an article in the regional magazine Naš Čas, titled “For Peace in Memory of Srebrenica.” The piece included a photo of cyclists alongside a mayor and a statue of a headless figure, which the author interpreted as a symbol of the ongoing influence of past authoritarian regimes. According to the writer, the individuals depicted, local officials and community members, are supporters of policies that historically targeted and persecuted people from different ethnic groups within former Yugoslavia. These policies were led by leaders such as Josip Broz Tito, Anton Kardelj, and later Slobodan Milošević and Milan Kucan, who oversaw brutal actions in cities like Vukovar and Srebrenica. The article suggests that similar patterns of violence and suppression have occurred in Slovenia, including the deaths of some citizens during the country’s path to independence in the 1990s. The activist group claims that the current municipal administration in Velenje continues to uphold this legacy by maintaining monuments and street names honoring figures associated with these violent acts. They point to specific locations, such as the square dedicated to Tito and the streets named after Kardelj and Ivan Kideršvec, as examples of how the town still reflects a regime that prioritized ideological conformity over individual rights. The writer argues that such symbols are incompatible with modern democratic principles and that they prevent meaningful dialogue about the past. In response, critics argue that the removal of such symbols would require a broader cultural shift rather than simply altering physical spaces. Some suggest that while the historical context is complex, the persistence of these figures in public life could hinder efforts to build a more inclusive society. Others emphasize that the issue extends beyond mere symbolism, it touches on deeper questions of accountability and memory. Activists are calling for a change in leadership, urging voters to support candidates who align with their vision of a more open and democratic Velenje. They propose a movement called “VEZ” (Velenjsko, Evropsko, Združevanje za lepši jutri), aiming to unite citizens who want to transform the town into a space free from the remnants of totalitarianism. This includes not only removing controversial monuments but also addressing other issues, such as the alleged high levels of drug use in the area, which the activists link to the town's broader social challenges. The debate highlights a growing tension between historical preservation and contemporary values. While some see the statues and names as part of a shared heritage, others view them as obstacles to healing and progress. As the November local elections approach, the question of whether Velenje will move toward a more democratic future remains unresolved. For now, the town stands at a crossroads, caught between its past and the aspirations of its residents.