STUDIA CROATICA
Year XVI – January – June 1975 – Vol. 56-57
Is there
justice in the world?
Strengthening
Centralism and Offensive Against the Opposition in
Yugoslavia
"...Workers'
self-management exists more on paper than in reality"
"Praxis"
- A Falsely Liberal Magazine
Cause of the
Kosovo Uprisings
Roko
Matjašić, Painter in Chile
French Opinions
on the Work of a Croatian Communist
News and
Commentary
The Argentine
Reality
Croatia, a
People Whose Spirit Tito Did Not Break
Repression in
Yugoslavia
Croats Reappear
Ivo Andrić
Died in Belgrade
The Nazis Were
Almost Right
The
"Absence" of Serbs in Tito's Current Yugoslavia
The 70th
Anniversary of the Croatian Peasant Party
Micro-News
Book Reviews
Aleksa Benigar:
Alojzije Stepinac — Croatian Cardinal —
Smail
Balić: Kultura Bošnjaka - Muslim Components
Dionyslus
Lasić, O.F.M.: De vita et operibus Sancti Jacobi de Marchia
Douglas Darby:
"Why Croatia?"
The poetry
corner: Ana Maria Petričević, nun and poetess
Is there
justice in the world?
Reflections on the Thirtieth Anniversary of the
Bleiburg Tragedy
Franjo Nevistić
In May 1945, one of the greatest tragedies in the
history of the Croatian people began: the Bleiburg tragedy (which would
continue for several months). Some 200,000 soldiers and as many civilians were
handed over by British troops in Austria to Tito's communists or prevented from
crossing the Austro-Yugoslav borders in search of refuge with the Western
Allies. These were the ones who had promised freedom "to all" at the
end of the war.
Tito's communists, considered allies of the
British, took charge of the "mission." Interpreting it in their own
way, the Serbian communists[1] practically
exterminated the flower of Croatian youth enlisted in their country's army. Its
fundamental task was the defense of both the right to self-determination of its
people, considered a prerequisite for all other freedoms, and the independence
of Croatia against Serbian reoccupation under the pretext of communist
revolution. The true agent of this "mission" was the Yugoslav
Communist Party, a party with a Great Serbian character.[2]
This Party was simultaneously a docile and
enthusiastic instrument for the expansion of Soviet power. Mortal enemies of
Croatian independence, Tito's communists, disguised as national and social
"liberators" of the peoples of Yugoslavia, unleashed a fury of
humiliation, torture, and massacres against the Croats—unarmed soldiers and
civilians. Instead of the promised freedom "for all," crimes were
committed that only a morbid fantasy and subhuman fanaticism could conceive.[3]
Having completed this direct operation of
"liberating" hundreds of thousands of prisoners, Belgrade established
a totalitarian regime of national discrimination in the country, especially in
occupied Croatia; a neocolonial regime of exploitation that persists to this
day, with variations in appearance and tactics, but intact in its character as
an effectively genocidal regime.[4] More than one and a half million Croats
exterminated or exiled from their homes are the consequence and the most
authentic fruit of the "liberating mission" that Tito's communists
carried out and continue to carry out after the last war.
Currently, the victims of that Great Serbian regime
are Croatian communist intellectuals: philosophers, poets, writers,
journalists, economists, students, etc. Men and women are "housed" in
Tito's prisons. Ironically, we could write on its facades: School of Unity and
Fraternity, as it was in its time, also with bitter historical sarcasm,
incising the word Libertas over the chains of the slaves of the Republic of
Genoa. There the students are the cream of Croatian intellectuals and their
"teachers" are armed Serbian ex-shepherds, "re-educating"
them as they are re-educated in Solzhenitsyn's Gulag Archipelago[5].
Is there justice in the world? The cruelty of the
occupier and Tito's regime doesn't surprise us. There, the decisive word is
that of the Serbs, mortal enemies of Croatia's very existence. What does
surprise us is the deafening and persistent silence of the free world. At every
opportunity, and repeatedly, attempts are made to cover up these crimes and
their true perpetrator. After 25 and 30 years, first in France, and now in
England,[6] they are beginning to write timidly about this tremendous and
undeniable reality. No one has attempted to officially and publicly draw the
attention of world public opinion to these crimes, let alone accuse those
responsible! Even after reading the British documentation on the matter, the
British Secretary of State for War was advised not to respond to a documented
letter denouncing these crimes, prepared by the Yugoslav monarchist minister,
Dr. M. Krek. This "would signify a violation of the Protocol and a gesture
of hostility toward the recognized regime in Belgrade," reports Nova
Hrvatska, London, 1975, the aforementioned newspaper. See also: British Foreign
Office document R 15888.
Thanks to respect for the Protocol and this delayed
reaction (if indeed there was one!), these horrendous crimes were committed and
officially silenced for thirty years.[7] And to top it
all off, as clear evidence of its contempt for human rights and justice, the
Belgrade regime "inaugurated" the celebrations of the 30th
anniversary of its victory by killing Nicolás Martinović, a 63-year-old
Croat who survived the tragedy of his comrades in 1945, on February 17 of this
year. Throughout this period, it organized religious ceremonies in Bleiburg in
commemoration of the fallen. Once again, a segment of the Western press, under
Belgrade's influence, presented the case as a consequence of internal squabbles
among the remnants of the "Croatian fascists."
A request had been made to the Washington
government, also at that time, for the United Nations to intervene in the
matter. But everything was postponed indefinitely; that is to say, that voice
was lost like one crying in the wilderness. Is there even justice in the world?
Did the United Nations fulfill its obligations? Did they heed the voice of that
American commission, which was merely a flicker of humanity's moral and legal
conscience? A flicker, and nothing more! Currently,
this supreme global political body, massively "reinforced" by the
votes of the former Afro-Asian colonies, is attempting to build a new world
structure by elevating massacres to the pedestal of the most suitable methods
for the triumph of national and social liberation. Old crimes are forgotten,
but humanity is confronted with new ones. Isn't this a situation enough to make
one despair?
Commemorating the thirtieth anniversary of that
great tragedy, ours and the world's, that human holocaust, we have no intention
of providing new and sensational evidence in this regard. Killing 54,000 or
100,000 men does not substantially change the crime committed. Nor do the
testimonies of 100 or 200 witnesses. We do not want to accuse anyone on this
occasion. Nor can we weep.[8]
Must we, then, write a new philosophy of tragedy?
No! We do not feel capable. Our voice is too weak. We pay only homage to our fallen
comrades. Among them—we say this emphatically, now and always, here and before
any independent court of justice—were many "little souls," because of
their innocence and their lack of guilt. All the members, even the sinners, of
that tremendous and brutally massacred human mass were in the service of an
idea and a right that are considered the backbone of all rights and all
freedoms: the right to self-determination. This is the right that constitutes
the very subsistence of Western democracy and civilization, of Civilization in
its most genuine sense. Nor do we weep, even though we could find meaning
precisely in its meaninglessness.[9]
Here, in these words, in the meaning of their
meaninglessness, lies the reason for these lines of ours. We would weep because
there is no meaning where there should be. We would do it despite the faint
echo of our cries, where only the voices of the powerful are heard.[10] Is there justice in the world? We never tire of
repeating the question. If we are already among the wise and wisdom itself, we
ask with Job: "But where is wisdom found? And where does understanding
reside?..." Where is justice found? And what is
its court? we can ask, and ask ourselves. We could
continue not only with Job's "conversations" with Eliphaz, Zophar,
and Elihu, but also with those of Socrates and his adversaries, led by
Thrasymachus.
The relevance of those discussions about the
concepts of friend and enemy, just and unjust, justice and law, despite the
millennia that have passed, is of paramount importance at this historical
moment, both from the perspective of the West-East confrontation in general,
and also from the perspective of our Croatian case, small on the outside and
vast on the inside. The withdrawal of American soldiers from Vietnam, Cambodia,
and Southeast Asia brings back the significance of those distant debates
against all possible opposing viewpoints. They touch upon the very essence of
civilizations, indeed, of Civilization itself.[11]
Despite differing opinions about whether classical
Greece belongs to the West or the East, one thing is certain: the discussions
between Socrates and Thrasymachus, which we inherited from Plato, encapsulate
the core of the problem with the two criteria for division between West and
East. Both, therefore, are products of the authentically Greek, classical
spirit. The West has chosen the Socratic path, and the East has followed the
path of Thrasymachus. After having taken to absurdity Thrasymachus's view that
right is the advantage of the strongest, Socrates also explains the concept of
friend and enemy. A friend "would be one who shows a good
disposition," but a true friend is "one who shows it and has it. One
who shows it only as an appearance is an apparent friend," said Socrates. It
is necessary, he added, to examine the concepts.[12]
Without accusing anyone, the following can be said,
which may also serve as our final conclusion. The British were, until then, the
most outstanding representatives of Socratic political thought, art, and
civilization. However, in 1945 they did everything to contradict themselves.
They succumbed to Thrasymachus's opinion, accepting the view that right was
whatever the strongest wanted, and the friend-enemy concept of those who show
but lack feelings of friendship, rather than those who possess them but, due to
adverse circumstances, cannot openly demonstrate them.
The true British will at that time is being debated
and will continue to be debated. For us, the following opinion of Churchill,
considered a political genius, is a fundamental guiding principle in this
regard. When the head of the British mission to Tito's guerrilla commandos
informed him that Tito was a communist and would establish a totalitarian
regime, Churchill replied: "Do you intend to settle in Yugoslavia after
the war?" "No, sir," I answered. “Neither do I,”
he told me. “That being the case, the less you and I worry about the form of
government you will establish, the better…” This was
Churchill’s reply [13].
The British commander, upon handing over the
Croats, said that they were "on the wrong side" and that Tito's
communists were their friends, adding: "I have received assurances that
they were all going to be repatriated and that I need not worry because he
(Tito's commissar, the Serb Milan Basta—N. Obs.) will see to it. But whether
they abided by this or not, I don't really know. I don't know if they killed
them all. But I wouldn't be surprised if they did…" [14]. N. Bethell
relates the mitigating circumstances for his general, P. Scott. We also know of
the similar circumstances that inspired Churchill to express himself with
evident contempt for human and national liberties and the form of government.
But, at the moment of victory, to speak and act
with such contempt and irony constitutes a symptom of immense significance. It
is the abandonment of the criteria of Western civilization at the most critical
moment of the confrontation between the two civilizations mentioned. Churchill
and Scott retreated, surrendering Western territory. to
the despotic East and enabled the "orientalization" of a part of the
West.[15]
After this general aberration, what can we all
expect, not just us Croatians? Dimitry Merejkovsky wrote shortly before the
start of the Second World War: "Europe was saved from a universal war, and
look how today it is preparing for another. Nothing has changed since the war
except for the worse." Faced with the current deterioration, there is talk
of the death of our civilization and the birth of another. Perhaps this is so.
But if this new civilization is to be the evolution and not the involution of
the world, it cannot do without law and freedom.
Without accusing anyone, the following can be said,
which may also serve as our final conclusion. The British were, until then, the
most outstanding representatives of Socratic political thought, art, and
civilization. However, in 1945 they did everything to contradict themselves.
They succumbed to Thrasymachus's opinion, accepting the view that right was
whatever the strongest wanted, and the friend-enemy concept of those who show
but lack feelings of friendship, rather than those who possess them but, due to
adverse circumstances, cannot openly demonstrate them.
The true British will at that time is being debated
and will continue to be debated. For us, the following opinion of Churchill,
considered a political genius, is a fundamental guiding principle in this
regard. When the head of the British mission to Tito's guerrilla commandos
informed him that Tito was a communist and would establish a totalitarian
regime, Churchill replied: "Do you intend to settle in Yugoslavia after
the war?" "No, sir," I answered. “Neither do I,”
he told me. “That being the case, the less you and I worry about the form of
government you will establish, the better…” This was
Churchill’s reply [13]. The British commander, upon handing over the Croats,
said that they were "on the wrong side" and that Tito's communists
were their friends, adding: "I have received assurances that they were all
going to be repatriated and that I need not worry because he (Tito's commissar,
the Serb Milan Basta—N. Obs.) will see to it.
But whether they abided by this or not, I don't
really know. I don't know if they killed them all. But I wouldn't be surprised
if they did…" [14]. N. Bethell relates the mitigating circumstances for
his general, P. Scott. We also know of the similar circumstances that inspired
Churchill to express himself with evident contempt for human and national
liberties and the form of government. But, at the moment of victory, to speak
and act with such contempt and irony constitutes a symptom of immense
significance. It is the abandonment of the criteria of Western civilization at
the most critical moment of the confrontation between the two civilizations
mentioned. Churchill and Scott retreated, surrendering Western territory. to the despotic East and enabled the
"orientalization" of a part of the West.[15]
After this general aberration, what can we all
expect, not just us Croatians? Dimitry Merejkovsky wrote shortly before the
start of the Second World War: "Europe was saved from a universal war, and
look how today it is preparing for another. Nothing has changed since the war
except for the worse." Faced with the current deterioration, there is talk
of the death of our civilization and the birth of another. Perhaps this is so.
But if this new civilization is to be the evolution and not the involution of
the world, it cannot do without law and freedom.
There, we Croats also place our hope, remembering
our tremendous tragedy of Bleiburg. We would not say so if Cardinal Stepinac
were not also a witness, a defender of the victims, and a victim himself of
that tragedy. Nevertheless, Tito's communists continue to publicly label that
"image of the Divine Shepherd" (John XXIII) a "war
criminal." A logical attitude on the part of G.
Princip's compatriots. One of them, upon learning of the assassination
attempt against Franz Ferdinand in Sarajevo, wrote: "Children of
Yugoslavia, do you not feel that only assassination is the greatest god... The
life of a race subsists through blood. Blood is the God of a nation..."
[16].
From this Serbian atmosphere, especially from
within its minority in Bosnia, emerged assassins, racism, violence, and
guerrilla warfare—a complete manifestation of human evil, elevated to the
pedestal of a deified nationality. Stepinac, in turn, told the students of the
Croatian Military Academy: "...for who would dare to look with contempt
upon one who is the image of God... and that is every man without
distinction..." To the Croatian soldiers he said: "Take up the sword
of the Spirit... Our weapons are in vain if they are not accompanied by the
strength of God." If you have this strength, "then the Church and the
homeland can count on you, according to the Apostle: 'If God is for us, who can
be against us?'"
If the free world does not wish to re-examine the
friend-enemy concept, even 30 years after Bleiburg, nor change the course of
its policies, we must remain silent. Let the law of the strongest prevail! A law that offers little promise for the future of humanity.
Strengthening
of centralism and offensive against the opposition in Yugoslavia
A synoptic vision of the recent situation in that
communist country
Jure Petricević
Within a framework of cordial relations and without
major inconveniences, Yugoslav-Soviet cooperation develops and deepens in all
fields. The visit to Moscow of the Yugoslav Minister of Police, General F.
Herljević, with the purpose of coordinating his activity with the Soviet
police apparatus, the deepening of the collaboration of Herljević himself
with the Hungarian police authorities and the presence of the Hungarian
Chancellor in Belgrade are expressions of the growing cooperation of Yugoslavia
with the Soviet bloc in such a sensitive area. The visit of the Hungarian
Chancellor to Yugoslavia served to show public opinion that there are no
difficulties in Hungarian-Yugoslav relations, but on the contrary, both
countries collaborate closely politically and economically.
On the other hand, the visit to Moscow of B. Šefer,
vice president of the Yugoslav government, means a new step in the broad
Yugoslav-Soviet economic cooperation. The growing link between Yugoslavia and
the Soviet bloc was reflected in a statement by the Yugoslav authorities
regarding the use of the Kotor seaport by Soviet warships for repair and supply
purposes. It is the formal confirmation of a pre-existing fact that the Yugoslav
regime had legalized through a special law.
In parallel with this turn in relations, measures
against the opposition are intensifying. Although liberal circles, close to the
magazine "Praxis", in addition to Mihailov and Djilas, are targets of
attacks by the Tito regime, they are considered adversaries of the regime but
not of the State of Yugoslavia, unlike the Croats and Albanians. These circles
do not want the disintegration of the State and constitute a moderate
opposition group.
The trial against sixteen Croats in Zadar, the
death of two Croats in alleged battles in Velebit, the mysterious explosion of
a foreign parcel in Zagreb, the rumors about the urban guerrilla in Croatia,
everything is used! by the government to justify the
strong measures adopted within a framework of cooperation with the Soviet bloc.
Also the demonstrations and disturbances of the Albanians in Kosovo and an area
of Macedonia at the end of 1974 indicate rather an organized
response to the ill-fated Serbian-Montenegrin pro-Soviet coup than an attack by
Albanian nationalism against Tito and Yugoslavia, as claimed by a Soviet
intrigue.
In any case, Yugoslavia's frequent confrontations
with Croatian and Albanian nationalism mean the beginning of a new phase of
disturbances and events that go beyond the framework of Yugoslav internal
events.
The deep economic crisis that is tearing Yugoslavia
apart and the dirigiste policy of the government in Belgrade seriously harm the Croatian economy. From this arise new reasons for
discontent for the Croats and conflicts with the Yugoslav state. North American
intervention and its dollars do not alter the course of political events. Both
the Soviets and their allies in Yugoslavia, as well as the opposition, know
this well.
1. — Cooperation with the Soviet bloc
The Federal Assembly of Belgrade recognized and
legalized by a law of April 26, 1974 the visit of the Soviet war fleet to the
Adriatic ports for the purpose of repairs and provisioning. In principle, this
facility is also provided to other war fleets, excluding "aggressors"
and "countries that help aggressors." By this clause, the war ports
on the Adriatic coast are accessible only to Soviet ships and those of their
allies.
Although prior to the promulgation of the
aforementioned law, Soviet ships entered Adriatic ports and stayed there for a
long time, it was not until December 1974 that it was reported, through foreign
correspondents, that Soviet ships for supply and repair purposes were in the
port of Tivat. With this, the visit and stay of these ships in the Adriatic
ports appears as a normal and harmless thing because it is a commercial
agreement. At the same time people get used to the "friendly" visits
of Soviet warships.
However, Belgrade's official recognition of the
Soviet navy's visit to Tivat caused concern, especially in Albania, which after
the failed Serbian-Montenegrin pro-Soviet coup in the summer of 1974 had
reestablished "normal" relations with Yugoslavia. The political
leaders of Tirana consider that the presence of the Russian war fleet in the
Adriatic ports is not only a measure to strengthen the Soviet positions
conquered in Yugoslavia but also a direct danger for Albania. Visits by Soviet
ships to Adriatic ports were very frequent during the last year. The intensity
of these visits and the Yugoslav-Soviet cooperation did not diminish after the
Serbian-Montenegrin cominformist "affair" in the summer of that year.
In this regard, it is interesting to note that Belgrade
lodged its protest with the governments of the US, Great Britain, Italy and
Turkey for having participated in the NATO maneuvers in the Adriatic in
November of last year. On that occasion, Belgrade stressed that the Yugoslav
government strongly opposes the Adriatic being transformed into a
"military range" and maintains that "the Adriatic must be a zone
of peace." The use of Yugoslavia's Adriatic ports by Soviet warships
speaks against the Yugoslav thesis about "the sea of
peace." The Belgrade government introduces the Soviet war
fleet as a disturbing factor in the Adriatic Sea and directly refutes its
assertion about the threat of peace in the Adriatic by another power.
Yugoslavia, in collaboration with the Soviet Union, has been systematically transforming
the Adriatic into a zone of potential war conflicts.
Herljević's visit served to coordinate the
work of the police and information service between Belgrade and Moscow. His
statements shortly before his trip to Moscow against "the bureaucratic-dogmatic
counterrevolutionary forces", "against the imform-bureauvist
conspirators" [17] and "the terrorist-diversionary actions in
Yugoslavia" served as a maneuver to cover up the true situation.
While the Yugoslav political police and the army
collaborate closely with the communists and with them organize
"diversionary actions" and pro-Soviet coups, Herljević censures
these actions. The purpose of such statements is, first of all, to deceive the
West, which should again believe in the "non-alignment" of
Yugoslavia. In fact, Herljević himself belongs to the group of pro-Soviet
elements in Yugoslavia.
On behalf of the Yugoslav army he played an
important role in the organization and liquidation of the "Bugojno
diversion" of 1972. (A group of young Croatians, deceived by Tito's
agents, returned from Australia to Yugoslavia with the intention of organizing
the guerrilla, and were handed over to the communist military force that was
waiting in ambush. They were all killed. S. C. Network Obs.)
Furthermore, Herljević also officially visited
Hungary, arranged close cooperation with its police chiefs and smoothed out the
"differences caused by the communist affair" of the summer of 1974,
in which Hungary would have played an important role. Hungary had previously
served the Soviets as a stage for the Warsaw Pact troop maneuvers in relation
to the events in Yugoslavia. The Western press described these maneuvers as a
direct danger to Hungary. Yugoslavia, although in reality they served to
strengthen the pro-Soviet forces in Yugoslavia, in their gradual and systematic
conquest of power, the head of the Yugoslav police, General Herljević,
also belongs to these forces.
Following a mild condemnation of the
Serbian-Montenegrin coup plotters, both Belgrade and Moscow placed all the
blame for this conspiracy on Western circles. Herljević's visit to Moscow
and Budapest confirmed the friendly cooperation between the Yugoslav police and
their Soviet and Hungarian counterparts. Furthermore, the visit of Hungarian
Foreign Minister Frigyes Puja in early January of this year confirmed the
existence of close and friendly Yugoslav-Hungarian cooperation in foreign,
economic, interstate, and party spheres. Puja held talks not only with his
Yugoslav counterpart, M. Minić, but also with the Vice President of the
State, P. Stambolić; the Secretary of the Communist Party of Yugoslav, S.
Dolanc; and the Prime Minister, M. Bijedić.
The purpose of Puja's visit was "to promote
political, economic, and other relations between Yugoslavia and Hungary, which
have been cordial for years and are constantly improving" (Vjesnik,
January 8, 1975). Hungary participates in several economic projects in
Yugoslavia (for example, the Omišalj-Sisak-Madjarska-Bratislava oil pipeline
and the gas pipeline from the Soviet Union, within the framework of Soviet
strategic interests). On the occasion of Puja's visit, the Yugoslav press
reported that Hungary intended to invest significant sums in certain Yugoslav
programs, such that "it would invest one hundred million dollars per year
for the next 20 years." It also intends to expand cooperation and
specialization, since "the arrangements agreed upon so far have proven
economically justified for both contracting parties."
This close relationship between Hungary and
Yugoslavia serves, first and foremost, to fully integrate Yugoslavia
economically into the Soviet bloc and to subordinate the Adriatic to Soviet
political, economic, and military interests. During the Hungarian Foreign
Minister's visit to Belgrade, particular emphasis was placed on the fact that
there were no insurmountable difficulties or problems between Yugoslavia and
Hungary.
Soviet-Yugoslav cooperation at the party level
continues apace, despite attempts to establish "a Stalinist party."
The visit to Yugoslavia by Katushev, Secretary of the Central Committee of the
Communist Party of the Soviet Union, in mid-December is clear evidence of this
cooperation. Katushev arrived at the invitation of the Executive Committee of
the Chairmanship of the Central Committee of the Communist League of
Yugoslavia, and, according to the official statement, following his meeting
with Dolanc, talks were held "on the further
development of ties between the two countries and the two parties and on
certain current issues in international relations." It appears that these
"current international relations" referred primarily to "the
preparations for the conference of European communist and workers'
parties."
Meanwhile, visits by Soviet party delegations to
Yugoslavia continue, and cooperation between the two countries is increasing.
In mid-January, a study delegation from the Communist Party of the Soviet Union
was in Yugoslavia "analyzing the activities of the Communist League of
Yugoslavia after its 10th Congress." This delegation was headed by V.
Borikov, Deputy Head of the Department for Party Organizational Work.
Cultural cooperation is also very active and
reciprocal. It is interesting to note that Moscow paid special honors to the
Croatian communist writer Miroslav Krleža, staging his drama
"Glembajevi." Furthermore, it also celebrated Serbian culture during
"Belgrade Week." All this cultural activity serves to mask Soviet
penetration of Yugoslavia and to bring Tito's "non-aligned" Yugoslavia
into the Soviet bloc.
Something more is known about Yugoslav-Soviet
economic cooperation, although many projects are being carried out discreetly,
and the concessions granted to Moscow are known only to high-ranking party and
state officials.
The visit to Moscow in December 1974 by B. Šefer,
Vice President of the Yugoslav government and Chairman of the Yugoslav side of
the Joint Committee for Economic Cooperation between Yugoslavia and the Soviet
Union, reaffirmed the importance of Yugoslavia's inclusion in the Soviet bloc
within the framework of broader political and strategic-military plans. Šefer
held talks in Moscow with the Vice President of the Soviet government, V.
Novikov, who also chaired the Soviet side of the Soviet-Yugoslav Joint Economic
Commission. Šefer was also received by the President of the Soviet government,
A. Kosigin.
Upon returning from Moscow, Šefer declared on
December 25 that his talks with the Soviet Union had been positive: "The
mutual assessment is that economic cooperation is developing well." Trade
in 1974 reached $1.4 billion, and this year its value was expected to reach
$1.9 billion. The volume of goods exchanged, as stipulated in the five-year
agreement, would be achieved in 1975. "During the negotiations, the issues
of long-term promotion of economic cooperation between Yugoslavia and the
Soviet Union were also discussed, especially concerning industrial cooperation
and joint action in third-party markets," Šefer stated.
They also discussed the "presence of Yugoslav
builders in construction projects in the Soviet Union and also addressed issues
related to greater cooperation in the tourism and agricultural sectors."
The work of "our builders" in constructing hotel complexes in Yalta
was commended, as it was completed ahead of schedule and deemed excellent.
Regarding the upcoming meeting of the joint economic commission, Šefer stated:
"We hope that preparations for the conclusion of the future five-year
cooperation plan will be considered at that meeting, along with certain aspects
of close cooperation in machine manufacturing, activities in third-party
markets, and the disbursement of loans to Yugoslavia approved by the Soviet
government in 1972." The Soviet Union is becoming Yugoslavia's most
important economic partner. Šefer's talks with Kosingin addressed the
challenges and long-term development of economic relations. Previous
cooperation was described as positive, and it was expressed that many
opportunities remain untapped.
Shortly after Šefer's return, Emerik Blum, a
well-known pro-Soviet industrialist from Yugoslavia who represents major
Soviet-Yugoslav interests, visited Moscow. Novikov, who had negotiated with
Šefer, received Blum at the Kremlin on January 2nd in his capacity as
representative of Jumel and chairman of the operational committee of Energoinvest.
According to the Tanjug news agency, they discussed "cooperation between
the respective Soviet and Yugoslav organizations in the production of
implements."
A special Soviet economic delegation, headed by J.
F. Vlaskin, Undersecretary of the Ministry of Chemicals, signed a special
document in Belgrade on December 20th concerning trade with the Soda-So
chemical and salt complex in Tuzla. The Soviets have so far purchased
approximately $60 million worth of products from this company. The Soviet delegation
headed by Vlaskin went to Tuzla, and on that occasion, the press wrote that
"the inauguration of new facilities at the Tuzla chemical plant will open
new possibilities for the exchange of goods with the Soviet Union."
"The real business will develop when the
construction of the chlor-alkaloid complex is completed next year, which will
produce 30,000 tons of TDI annually. Half of the production will be delivered
to the USSR. Soviet economists expressed their interest in acquiring creosol
from the 'Boris Kidrić' factory in Lukavac, where one of the largest
complexes in Europe for its production is being built."
Soviet-Yugoslav cooperation should have been
especially boosted by Brezhnev's visit to Belgrade at the end of last year or
the beginning of this year. But it seems that Brezhnev's illness or the crisis
in the Soviet leadership made this meeting with Tito impossible. Nevertheless,
there were no interruptions in Moscow-Belgrade cooperation.
Faced with this systematic political, military, and
economic integration of Yugoslavia into the Soviet bloc, the United States, as
the leading Western power, feels quite powerless. Washington believes that the
balance of power in Yugoslavia has not substantially changed. The NATO troop
maneuvers in the Adriatic in November 1974 did, admittedly, demonstrate the
West's interest in what is happening on the eastern Adriatic coast. An
important instrument of American policy is the intensified economic aid to
Yugoslavia. Washington's interest in what is happening in Yugoslavia is also
reflected in President Ford's announced visit this year, during which he also
plans to visit Romania.
The weakness and impotence of American policy in
the face of the Sovietization of Yugoslavia lie in the fact that this process
is not unfolding through external action but rather through changes occurring
within Yugoslavia itself. Thus, on the international stage, Yugoslavia's
apparent status of "non-alignment" and the order established by the
1945 Yalta Agreement can be maintained for some time.
2. — Severe Measures Against
the Opposition
The Sovietization of
Yugoslavia and the intensification of centralism tolerate no opposition
whatsoever. The defining feature of this new phase of Yugoslav politics is the
relentless persecution of internal enemies and the simultaneous offensive
against exiles. Settling scores with the opposition stems from the very nature
of the new pro-Soviet military-police regime. In this respect, the regime acts
against two fronts: one comprised of liberal communists, grouped around the
Zagreb-based journal "Praxis," and liberal-leaning publicists such as
Mihailov and Djilas; the other front consists of Croatian and Albanian
nationalists.
The Yugoslav authorities
see both groups as their main adversaries. But the "Praxis" group,
along with Mihailov and Djilas, are considered ideological adversaries because
they uphold the Yugoslav conception of the state and oppose the demands of the
Croats and Albanians for national self-determination and their own state, as
well as the partition of Yugoslavia. These liberal groups agree with the regime
regarding the preservation of the Yugoslav conglomerate, and therefore,
measures as severe as those applied to the Croats and Albanians were not
applied against them. Mihailov and Djilas even defend and promote the political
and state order of Yugoslavia in their articles in the American press, as both
advocate for the Greater Serbian conception of Yugoslavia and write in favor of
Pan-Slavism.
The attitude toward the
Croatian and Albanian national opposition, which constitutes the most dangerous
force for the centralist Yugoslav state, is quite different. In its struggle
for survival, the state aligns itself with the Soviet Union and thus becomes
part of the Soviet bloc. Both Belgrade and Moscow know that the Croats and
Albanians constitute the greatest obstacle to the consolidation of the Soviet
Union in the Adriatic, and for this reason, they are joining forces to wage a
ruthless struggle against them.
The pro-Soviet rulers of
Belgrade seek open confrontation and armed conflict with the Albanians and
Croats. They provoke national discontent among these peoples and try to
exacerbate it to the extreme in certain areas, only to then premeditatedly take
countermeasures, such as arrests, fabricated trials, and extremely harsh
punishments. They seek to "destroy" their enemies—that is, Albanian and Croatian nationalism and
"separatism"—through strange and unexplained armed clashes. From the
new actions of the Yugoslav government against the Croats and Albanians, some
basic motives for this policy of "brotherhood and unity" can be
deduced. Belgrade, with Soviet help, is trying to show public opinion that
Croats and Albanians are the main opponents to unity and peace in that part of
Europe.
Furthermore, it seeks to incite Croats and
Albanians to a premature national uprising and, by declaring even the slightest
Croatian and Albanian resistance as "separatist diversion" and
attributing to these actions a scope they do not possess, attempts to annihilate
its most dangerous enemies "on already obliterated ground." In doing
so, they aim to demonstrate both the importance and the insignificance of
Croatian and Albanian demands for national liberation, as well as the certain
failure of any future similar actions.
Moreover, the fabricated trials against Croats and
the diversionary actions serve to justify the heavy-handed measures. In
Croatia, this is explained as the harbinger of renewed pressure and
persecution. At the same time, these maneuvers serve to distract attention from
the growing cooperation with Moscow.
Thus, the political developments in Kosovo and the
Belgrade-Tirana relationship since the summer of 1974 appear contradictory. It
is highly probable that the pro-Soviet Yugoslav military leadership and the
political police attempted last summer, through Serbian-Montenegrin Stalinist
circles, to stage a pro-Soviet coup (with the collaboration of B. Balluk, the
Albanian Minister of the Army), overthrow Tito and Enver Hodza, and quickly
bring Yugoslavia and Albania "through an internal upheaval" into the
Soviet bloc, without altering the formal status quo of Yalta. This coup was
primarily directed against the Albanians.
Despite Tito's rapprochement with Hodza and China
after the failed coup, and despite the improvement in relations between
Belgrade and Tirana at the end of December, demonstrations and riots broke out
in Kosovo and the Albanian-populated areas of Macedonia. These protesters
demanded the annexation of Kosovo and parts of Macedonia to Albania, cheered
Enver Hodza, and expressed their discontent with Tito and Yugoslavia. Neither
Belgrade nor Tirana offered any explanation for these demonstrations.
Shortly afterward, Yugoslav authorities announced
that a group of Albanians in Kosovo had been sentenced to prison terms ranging
from three to nine years for separatist activities and inciting national
intolerance. Although Belgrade labeled these demonstrations
"irredentist" and even "informburovist," and even vainly
tried to deny them, it appears that these demonstrations were a planned and
well-prepared response to the failed Serbian-Montenegrin coup of the summer of
1974. Since Albania does not currently wish to jeopardize its recent
"friendship" with Yugoslavia, Tirana is not providing a clear
explanation for the demonstrations by its minority in Yugoslavia. It is
unlikely, however, that pro-Soviet Yugoslav forces will publicly demonstrate
today in favor of Enver Hodza and the inclusion of Kosovo and part of Macedonia
in Albania—that is, that they will publicly call for the partition of
Yugoslavia—while the pro-Soviet rulers in Yugoslavia are trying, at any cost,
to retain these territories, overthrow the Enver Hodza regime in Albania, and
dismantle its alliance with China.
Another event casts a strange light on Yugoslavia's
recent "friendship" with Albania and China. When Yu Chan, China's
Undersecretary of Foreign Affairs, arrived in Belgrade via Tirana at the
beginning of last December, various political circles expected Tito to receive
him to demonstrate his non-alignment with Moscow. But Yu Chan was not received
by Tito, and nothing is known about Beijing's invitation for Tito to visit
China. It seems that in this way, the Chinese and Albanians skillfully tested
Tito at a very critical phase in Yugoslav-Chinese relations. It is also
interesting to note that at the end of November, China inaugurated the
Beijing-Tirana air route via Tehran and Bucharest, leaving Belgrade outside
that network.
In Croatia, it was known from the beginning that
the high-profile Zadar trial against 16 Croatians was entirely fabricated and
that all the activity of this alleged Ustaše group consisted of innocuous
conversations.
Furthermore, the widely publicized elimination of
the "terrorist Ustasha duo" in the Velebit area at the end of
November raised several doubts in local and foreign circles. It is noteworthy
that the Croatian "terrorists" Prpić and Matićević
killed the Serb Milan Vucinić in the fighting in Velebit and that in 1972,
in an ambush, they allegedly killed the Serb Djuro
Uzelac, militia commander in Karlobag.
Furthermore, since on the 15th of that month an
explosive device in an international parcel killed a postal worker in Zagreb
(of course, the authorities blamed the Croatian exiles), and since persistent
rumors about urban guerrilla warfare were circulating in Zagreb at the time, it
is obvious that the Zadar trial, the "entertainment" in Velebit, the
explosive device, the urban guerrilla warfare, and the supposed "Croatian
Liberation Army"—invented by certain anonymous Yugoslav-Soviet circles in
exile and similar to the "Croatian Revolutionary Liberation Army"
mentioned in the Zadar trial—form a network planned and orchestrated by
Belgrade to justify the intensification of persecution against Croats and to
indirectly achieve other political ends. (One of the accused managed to escape
to the free world and explained the case in detail as an officially fabricated
trial. - Note from the S.C. editor)
The pro-Soviet military and police forces in
Yugoslavia receive recognition for their terrorist activities from the so-called
Politburo of the Foreign Bureau of the Communist Party of Croatia, which
includes a handful of Soviet and Yugoslav provocateurs in Western countries.
These shadowy individuals act provocatively and call themselves "Croatian
socialists." The "chairman" of this Politburo, in a special
communiqué published in the newspaper Socialist Croatia, No. 3, November 1974,
endorsed the attempted Serbian-Montenegrin coup in Bar
(summer 1974) and described this large Serbian group and its actions as a
"positive nucleus of Yugoslav communists." His appeal,
addressed to the Croatian working class abroad and to the homeland, was ignored
by Croatian workers.
This action also demonstrates how Moscow would
resolve the Croatian question!
Tito announced during Australian Prime Minister G.
Whitlam's visit last January that the persecution of Croatian emigrants was a
substantial part of his foreign policy. In Tito's toast at the luncheon in
Whitlam's honor on the 10th of that month, and in Whitlam's response, Croatian
immigrants in Australia were the main topic. Tito labeled the Croatian
immigrants in Australia as renegades. Belgrade, for political reasons,
postponed economic development and exported nearly 200,000 Croatians to
Australia as merchandise. These Croatians, removed from Croatia for being
dangerous opponents, now serve as a source of foreign currency. But these
Croatians retained their national consciousness and did not forget Yugoslavia's
antisocial and anti-Croatian policies. They publicly expressed their conscience
and convictions in Australia.
3. — The Yugoslav military and police regime
exploits and destroys the Croatian economy.
Croatia is not only politically oppressed and
enslaved. Economically, Croatia finds itself in a colonial situation with
respect to the central Yugoslav government. The dire state of the Croatian
economy is reflected in the local budget for 1975. The Executive Council, that
is, the government of the Socialist Republic of Croatia, submitted the budget
for this year to Parliament at the beginning of December, amounting to 11.4
billion dinars. Of this sum, 7 billion, or 61%, represents Croatia's
contribution to the federal budget, leaving only 4.4 billion dinars, or 39% of
its total expenditures, for its own needs (Vjesnik, December 7, 1974). The
Republic of Croatia must raise funds to transfer to the central government in
Belgrade.
At the same time, the Belgrade Parliament approved
the federal budget for 1975, totaling 58 billion dinars. According to official
figures, the increase in the federal budget compared to the previous year was
22%. But since the original budget for 1974 was 41.5 billion dinars and during
the year it reached 47.3 billion, the approved budget for 1975 was in fact
increased by 17 billion, or 41%, compared to the previous year's.
Therefore, the expenditures of the "federation" are the main cause of
inflation and the high cost of consumer goods.
According to the first draft of the federal budget
for 1975, 26.5 billion yen were allocated to "national defense,"
meaning the armed forces of Yugoslavia, and 8.4 billion yen to "disabled
and veterans," representing almost 60% of the total budget. If we add to
this the expenditures for "the needs of federal bodies," amounting to
3.8 billion yen, then the military and administrative services of the
"federation" absorbed almost 67% of the central government's
spending. However, since the true purpose of many line items in the federal
budget was concealed, the actual expenditures for military, administrative, and
police services were higher.
This budget also confirms the fact that Yugoslavia
was a typically military and police state.
We have seen that the current Republic of Croatia
had to cede 61% of its 1975 budget to the central government in Belgrade. This
again clearly demonstrates its colonial position and its powerlessness within
the framework of Greater Yugoslavia. In the parliamentary debate on the central
budget for 1975, data concerning the "federation's" obligations in
previous years were published. These obligations amounted to 105 billion
dinars, and it was agreed to cover them "by taking special measures in
accordance with the republics and provinces." This means that the majority
of this burden will be absorbed by the Croatian regions. Part of these
obligations is covered by the issuance of bonds and securities which, due to
rising inflation, represent an onerous burden for their holders, who are the
poorest segments of the population. These bonds and securities are not backed
by any real assets and become worthless. A portion of the
"federation's" old obligations is covered by domestic and foreign
loans and credits, which in turn increase the "federation's" deficit
and, ultimately, are passed on to the Croatian economy.
During the debate on the 1975 "federal"
budget, the data on the "federation's" off-budget balance—that is,
the "federation's" secret budget—was not published. During the period
of liberalization and reform, under pressure from the opposition, certain
summary data were released, indicating that this secret budget reached the
amount of the public budget.
This secret budget still exists, since the public
budget is referred to as "Revenues Realized and Distributed from the
Balance Sheet Budget." This means that there is an off-balance sheet
budget, controlled by a small circle of leaders in Belgrade. How much is this
budget? What are its revenues and expenditures? The public doesn't know, but it
is certain that its amount is substantial and that it serves to consolidate the
military and police regime at the expense of the Croatian economy.
In Croatia, the debate continues regarding
non-economic organizations that "receive surplus economic resources, while
the economy that generates those resources must seek new calculation techniques
to ensure liquidity." The current political puppets in Zagreb, pressured
by the economic crisis, publicly acknowledge this.
Thus, the Speaker of the Croatian Parliament, Dr.
Ivo Perišin, in an interview published in the newspaper Komunist, responding to
a question about workers' self-management in total social investment, admitted
that the constitutional amendments have changed nothing in this area, nor are
there any signs of future changes. According to Perišin, centralist factors
influence the economy, investments, and economic results. Perišin describes
these forces as "the domination of a very robust interventionism that
determines the fate of workers' organizations... And this interventionism,
whether it manifests itself in price policy, in the foreign trade, exchange, or
customs regime, signifies the alienation of the conditions that determine the
fate of producers" (Vjesnik, November 24-25, 1974).
The central banks of Belgrade continue to play a
predominant role, serving as a powerful instrument of Great Serbian policy
toward the Croats. Perišin laments the preponderance of these banks in Croatia:
"The economic sector chronically lacks the additional resources to solve
its problems, and precisely these additional resources that determine the investment
process appear alienated, completely separated from the producers of these
means—that is, anonymous resources that are distributed. Although the
liquidation of state capital was essentially carried out in the same way as the
liquidation of anonymous capital in bank funds, all of this has not altered the
relationships... The resources from primary issuance, foreign loans,
remittances from our workers, and citizens' savings converge on the banks. And
all these resources, as if they had fallen from the sky, are anonymous, hence
the anonymous decisions regarding them... The banks are like a repository where
all the possibilities for solving all the current and developmental problems of
the impoverished and dependent base are concentrated, and someone has the dominant
role in deciding how to use these additional sources."
That "someone" is the omnipotent Great
Serbian central power in Belgrade, which, through its servile confidants
Perišin, Sirotković, Milka Planinc, Vrhovec, General Ćorković,
Dušan Dragosavac, and others, governs Croatia without any accountability or
oversight. In this way, it ensures its unlimited Great Serbian power over the
Croats, even though Perišin, Sirotković, or someone else occasionally
criticizes this power, which also affects the government.
Besides this centralized monetary and credit system
that decides on investments, loans, and the use of foreign currency to the
detriment of the Croatian economy, the "federation" consistently
practices a policy of exploitation and destruction in other essential sectors
of Croatia. The devastating floods that struck Posavina in the autumn of 1974,
with their catastrophic consequences, resulted from the neglect of regulating
the Sava River and its tributaries in Upper Croatia and Slovakia. It has been known
since the Austro-Hungarian era that water regulation and flood protection are
essential for the development of this region. This age-old problem continues to
plague Croatian villages along the Sava River, as neither monarchist nor
communist Yugoslavia undertook the necessary water regulation and land
improvement projects.
After the last flood, the satellite representatives
of the Belgrade authorities in Croatia cynically declared that they knew
perfectly well what they should be doing, but that "the lack of money
remains the main obstacle to regulating and managing our longest river"
(Vjesnik, October 29, 1974). This is what the men who have claimed, and
continue to claim, to represent the working people, and especially the
peasants, declared. This statement came from the current head of Croatia's
water resources department!
This policy of the Yugoslav government led to a
serious crisis for the Croatian merchant fleet, threatening its very existence.
Much has been written in Croatia lately about this crisis, and there are calls
for decisive measures to resolve it, but the "federation" responds
with vague promises regarding the development of plans. Although the merchant
fleet's contribution in foreign currency is significant—estimated at $395
million in 1974—the "federation" is hindering the fleet's
development.
The merchant fleet of Yugoslavia, of Croatia, which
owns 80% of its fleet, must acquire its ships abroad, while local shipyards
build almost exclusively for foreign shipping companies. Local shipyards should
primarily build for domestic shipping companies, but they cannot do so because
they lack access to central bank loans. The "federation" follows this
policy for specific reasons.
By exporting ships, the state, i.e., Belgrade,
receives large amounts of foreign currency, which it does not use to promote
the Croatian economy but rather to cover its own needs. Meanwhile, for the
purchase of ships abroad by companies, the "federation" provides no
guarantee and assumes no obligation, as the transaction is carried out
privately through mortgage loans with long-term repayment terms. Thus, the
Croatian merchant fleet cannot acquire or renew all the necessary vessels.
Obsolete ships and insufficient tonnage are the reasons why the Croatian
merchant fleet is relegated in international trade.
It is clear that the Yugoslav authorities are
deliberately pursuing this policy. discriminatory
policies designed to harm this vital sector of the Croatian economy.
Furthermore, the investment policy seriously
damages Croatian ports, which, due to a lack of funds, are unable to renovate
or modernize. This is particularly evident in the construction of certain
facilities and storage areas at port terminals, on ships, and at railway
facilities. The construction of the container terminal in Rijeka, which should
have been completed in 1975, was only ten percent finished due to a lack of
funds (VUS, December 11, 1974). In addition to Rijeka, the ports of Bar, Kopar,
and Ploče also requested loans from the Inter-American Development Bank
(IDB) in Washington for the construction of container terminals.
Yugoslavia won the concession for the port of Bar
and obtained a loan of $44 million. This port, along with the Belgrade-Bar
railway line, was built for strategic military purposes by Great Serbia and the
Soviet Union. The American government, perhaps wishing to participate in this
project of Soviet penetration in the Adriatic, subsidized the expansion of the
peripheral and economically unjustifiable port of Bar, to the detriment of the
port of Rijeka, which possesses all the necessary conditions to become the main
port on the eastern Adriatic coast.
The Washington government recently granted larger
loans to Yugoslavia. This American economic aid intensified after the Soviet
Union emerged as a participant, creditor, and buyer in major economic
operations and projects in Yugoslavia starting in 1971. It is obvious that
Washington wished to counter Soviet political influence in Yugoslavia. But
Moscow linked its influence and participation in the Yugoslav economy with
close cooperation with Belgrade in the political, military, and police spheres.
In contrast, Washington provides economic aid
without political influence.
Furthermore, Washington should agree to annual
assistance of $2 billion to $3 billion so that Yugoslavia can meet its current
international obligations. Yugoslavia is currently experiencing its worst
economic crisis since the war. This is demonstrated by the extremely
unfavorable performance of exports and imports, which showed a deficit of $3
billion in the first ten months of 1974, 2.4 times greater than the deficit for
the same period in 1973. Thus, the total trade deficit in 1974 will likely
reach $3.6 billion, an increase of $2 billion compared to 1973. If we add to
this the payments on the foreign debt with their corresponding interest,
amounting to $1.5 billion, the trade deficit in 1974
would reach $5 billion. The inflow of foreign currency in 1974 will likely
amount to $2.5 billion, resulting in a deficit of $2.5 billion, compared to $1
billion in 1973. The Yugoslav government does not publish its external debt
figures, making it very difficult to provide a complete picture of its economic
relations with other countries. Furthermore,
Belgrade falsifies its financial statements.
The deficit in this summary table of Yugoslavia's balance of payments in
1974 is very high, especially considering its large external debt, which
requires the payment of high annual installments in foreign currency for a long
time. This situation worsened in 1975, as the external deficit increased while
the flow of foreign currency decreased due to the return of a large number of
workers from Western Europe. Added to this was the uncertainty surrounding the
development of tourism.
Due to rising unemployment and rampant inflation, the economic crisis
increasingly impacted political life. The strike at the Split shipyard in
December 1974, caused by the sharp increase in food prices, exemplifies this.
The deteriorating living conditions of the broad masses were also reflected in
the acute housing shortage. Mika Špiljak, as president of the Federation of
Trade Unions of Yugoslavia, declared at the seventh congress, held in December 1974,
that almost half a million new apartments were needed, while according to
Berislav Šefer, vice president of the Yugoslav government, only 140,000
dwellings were built in 1974. This means that at the current rate of
construction, the housing shortage will only be resolved in three or four
years, without considering the increased demand due to natural population
growth. If one takes into account the large number of workers returning from
Western Europe due to lack of work, then the housing shortage in Yugoslavia
takes on staggering proportions. According to some estimates, more than 100,000
workers returned to Yugoslavia from abroad by the end of 1974.
The profound economic crisis is symptomatic of the political crisis in
Yugoslavia. In its current form, this crisis can only be resolved by modifying
the political structures of the state and the regime. This was recognized by
the decisive political actors, who, starting in 1971, began to implement a
rigorous centralism in close collaboration with the Soviet Union. This process
was accelerated by the Serbian-Montenegrin coup attempt in the summer of 1974.
The main course of this process was not altered despite the failed coup. While
the Washington government believes it can halt this process with a few hundred
million dollars, the Soviet allies in the army, the police, the Communist
League, and other key positions in Yugoslavia think otherwise. They enjoy firm
support from Moscow. This is known to the threatened peoples of multinational
Yugoslavia and their neighbors, and above all, the Croats, Albanians, and
Romanians. The Albanian uprisings of late 1974 in Kosovo and Macedonia are
ominous signs of the coming conflicts in this region, where the interests of
not only the affected peoples but also those of the great powers intersect and
clash.
Brugg, Switzerland, 21 - I - 1975.
"...Workers'
self-management exists more on paper than in reality"
Rudi Supek (*)
After noting that the existence of the workers'
self-management system in Yugoslavia reached its twenty-first anniversary (in
1971 — Translator's note), the author states that this is indeed a more than
sufficient period to analyze its development and that it authorizes us to
re-examine its capacity. "We will attempt," he says, "to answer
this question critically." He then continues: "We do not know if our
response will differ from that of others, but it will coincide with others on
at least one point: the general understanding that some difficulties have
arisen in our self-management and that something must be changed. We will
eliminate all the circumstances and moments typical of our country that could
derail even the best system and lead it to failure. Despite all the subjective
difficulties and adversities, already known, we will address everything
considered rational and ideal in this system and examine it on the basis of its
own logic and development. In this way, we will protect ourselves in advance against
any accusation of making a 'destructive critique' to the detriment of our
socialist system. A critical consideration of this system is necessary not only
because of our current internal situation, but even more so because of the high
interest of the contemporary workers' movement and of progressive spirits
throughout the world, who advocate participatory democracy or, better yet, the
system of self-management as the only alternative, thus far, to the statist
version of [socialism/socialism]. Socialism.
"Minimalism" and "Maximalism"
Despite having begun amidst acute political and
ideological isolation, the workers' self-management movement has shown
itself—along with the suspension of the division of the world into blocs—to be
the most effective instrument of local political decision-making for the
construction of socialist society. The initial position regarding "the
path to socialism itself," verbally accepted by all, was not limited to
choosing a neutral path among the many that lead to socialism and are models of
socialist society, but rather revealed itself as the path to overcoming a
socialism that is not socialism, as the rejection of certain socialist
practices, as opposed to statist and bureaucratic socialism, taking on a
distinctly offensive character.
Within the critique of statist socialism and its
most well-known deformation—the Stalinist form—there are two currents in the
contemporary workers' movement. One that defends the "minimalist"
viewpoint and another that we could call "maximalist."
1) The "minimalist" viewpoint is based on
the importance given to the principle of "one's own path to
socialism," that is, it denies the negative phenomena that have appeared
in some socialist countries and promises to do better in its own country. This
in itself implies different forms or a certain
pluralism in the Marxist interpretation of socio-political reality. Most
communist parties have practically accepted this principle, even though they
have not drawn the necessary theoretical conclusions so as not to affect the
"unity of the workers' movement."
2) The "maximalist" current places
special emphasis on overcoming, critically and theoretically, state socialism,
starting from the Marxist theory of the gradual "withering away" of
the state and of alienation (political-state institutions are forms of
alienation in human society), and in Yugoslavia (also practically). In this
context, the idea of communist self-management is a problem that becomes
compelling.
While the "minimalist" viewpoint remains
at the level of a political tactic, attempting to justify its opportunism with
explanations that are not always conventional, "maximalism" is a
consistent theoretical critique that questions even the nature of socialism
itself, the very content of the socialist revolution, and the paths to its
realization. Therefore, it has a general theoretical and political-strategic
character.
It is thus not surprising that the most prominent
Marxist theorists, from G. Lukács to R. Garaudy, have rejected the dogmatic and
apologetic philosophy that, under the name of "Marxism-Leninism,"
presents the foundation of state socialism, demanding, in and of itself, an
unwavering revision of Marxist ideas. The intensified attacks by official
Soviet ideologues, especially after the occupation of Czechoslovakia, against
so-called "revisionism" and against leading Marxist philosophers such
as E. Bloch, E. Fromm, G. Lukács, E. Fischer, H. Lefevre, J. Habermans, K.
Kosik, L. Goldmann, H. Marcuse, and R. Garaudy, among others, as well as those
associated with the journal "Praxis," only confirm that state
socialism has lost the battle in the theoretical arena, at least on our
continent, where it originated.
The Reason for Workers' Self-Management
The philosophical critique of the theoretical
foundations of state socialism began simultaneously with the strengthening of
the idea of workers' self-management, which is gaining ground
through existing forms of worker participation in the trade union movement in
Western European countries, as well as through pressure for a qualitative
change within the movement itself. This idea was accepted by students,
especially those of the new left, as well as by other intellectuals, and
clearly by the so-called "wage-earning intelligentsia." Thus, a
convergence has occurred between the labor movement and leftist currents
regarding the idea of workers' self-management.
If we were to briefly explain the reasons for the
acceptance of the self-management movement within left-wing intellectual
circles, as well as within a segment of the progressive bourgeoisie for whom it
became a hot topic, we should mention the following:
1) After the discovery of the "human
factor" in production, modern sociology and social psychology have
dedicated numerous research studies to the "motivation and
participation" of workers and employees in production, concluding in most
cases, without regard to Marxism, that worker participation is indispensable in
the decision-making process within companies. But from participation to self-management
there is only one (revolutionary) step.
2) After the unions, through collective bargaining
agreements, secured the right to participate in specific company decisions
(voting rights, joint consultation, works council), especially regarding
working conditions themselves, the logical next step was to move from a
"quantitative demand" (wage increases) to a "qualitative
demand" (increased participation leading to self-management). This effort
was particularly evident during the turbulent year of 1968 in France.
3) The expansion of the service sector, the
emergence of the "intellectual proletariat," the rise of company
unionism in technologically advanced enterprises with its new forms of
integrating manual and intellectual workers, and the growth of the anonymity of
corrupt capital (also called the "manager revolution"), have all
contributed to the increasing acceptance of the idea of
self-management as a consequence of democratization and
administrative "normalization" in companies.
4) The visible and growing coercion and terror
imposed by state socialism (severe punishments for dissenting opinions, lack of
citizens' rights, the confinement of critical intellectuals to asylums,
antisemitism, the occupation of Czechoslovakia, etc.) made the existence of another
socialist alternative increasingly necessary—one that would not necessarily
lead to bourgeois democracy or social democracy, but rather to a truly new form
of socialist democracy. The Idea of Self-Management
5) The conviction has matured that highly developed
countries that have applied statism or centralism in social decisions must seek
a solution through participation or direct democracy. The scientific and
technological revolution, with the development of cybernetics, automation, and
modern means of communication, offers the possibility of greater
decentralization than in underdeveloped countries. Technology becomes the
"infrastructure of society," freeing it from economic and technical
constraints and offering far greater possibilities for its organization
according to human needs.
6) The idea of self-management made it necessary to
formulate an offensive strategy for the labor movement in developed countries,
where, although still in its infancy, it signifies a decisive break with the
passivity that stems from waiting for European countries or the "Soviet
Army" to liberate "the forces of the Third World."
The offensive nature of this strategy is evident in
the converging efforts toward self-management both within the working class and
among broad sectors of the "wage-earning intelligentsia."
Unfortunately, these two groups have not achieved the necessary synchronization
in their ideas and actions, so the workers' movement remains under the sway of
dogmatism and intellectual movements under the "leftism" of the
radical left, lacking a clear vision of their objectives and a strategy that
could facilitate a firm relationship with the workers' movement, despite the
capitulations of some party leaders.
7) The Marxist intellectual vanguard recognizes that
the idea of self-management is an essential element in the
development of an offensive strategy, and therefore is not surprised by the
attacks from bureaucratic leaders. Some of these leaders, in socialist
countries, are increasingly and openly calling for the rehabilitation of
Stalinism. As before, the Marxist vanguard knows now that historical truth is
on its side and that it is its duty and responsibility to bring socialism and
the workers' movement into line with the progressive aspirations of contemporary
humanity.
Without exaggeration, we can say that in Europe,
numerous reasons—political, scientific, and humanistic-philosophical—speak in
favor of self-managed socialism. These reasons are so compelling that even the
complete failure of workers' self-management in Yugoslavia could not shake
them. Incidentally, we could paraphrase: if "the truth about Stalin"
could not undermine faith in socialism, but only prompted a more incisive
articulation of its content and objectives, so too "the truth about Yugoslav
workers' self-management" cannot shake faith in workers' self-management,
but only articulates more clearly the question of how it should be implemented.
But are we in a position today to speak "the
truth about Yugoslav workers' self-management"? That is, do we currently
have a broad and sufficient perspective to understand its "good and bad
aspects" and to know objectively what must be eliminated and what must be
preserved, both in our country and in others that are trying to implement it?
We believe that certain things have become clear to us and that we have an
obligation to speak them out in our own interest and in the interest of others.
It is evident that the principles on which workers'
self-management is built are not false: the individual—the producer—has the
right to decide on the outcome of their labor; the State should not, by its own
power, dispose of the surplus value created by the working class; all those
involved in the employment relationship—workers and employees—have the right to
manage the organization of work (i.e., the company. Note from the editorial
staff of the newspaper mentioned at the end). Only its insufficient development
and its integration into the social system can be considered false. Proudhon's
Conception
It would seem that a democratic-liberal conception,
or the Proudhonian conception, dominates the development and application of our
workers' self-management. What are the characteristics of this conception?
1) The free association of producers is the basis
of society (mutual organization); it does not need any political intermediary
in the form of a state or a political party (the state "withers
away"). These organizations must possess a certain "possession,"
which is a synthesis of private and collective property. Proudhon, like our
jurists, had difficulty defining the legal status of an organization of this
kind according to Roman law, and yet it best corresponds to what we designate
as "group property," that is, a mixture of private and collective
property.
2) The relations of production between production
associations rest on the free exchange of products and contractual relations
between the interested parties, without the intervention of a third party. The
society that is based on mutual association develops according to the following
principle: "Service for service, product for product, loans for loans,
insurance for insurance, credit for credit, guarantee for guarantee... In this
system the worker is no longer a slave of the State, he is a free man, truly
his own master, who is acting on his own initiative and under his own
responsibility" (P. J. Proudhon, Select Writing, Doublesday, 1969, p. 59).
3) Once the emphasis is placed on free exchange as
the principle of personal freedom and the autonomy of association, the market
then appears as the essential means for that exchange, and supply and demand as
the regulators of production. The proponents of mutualism are well aware, as
everyone is, of the law of supply and demand, and therefore will do everything
possible not to contravene it. “Detailed and current information, precise
instruction regarding needs and the standard of living, an honest and thorough
analysis of production costs, the provision for contingencies, the
determination of the maximum and minimum profits after a friendly discussion,
the consideration of the risks connected with all this, the organization of the
coordinating society: all these measures, generally speaking, are means by
which we hope to regulate the market. Here there will be as much freedom as we
desire; but far more important than freedom, however, is openness, mutual
understanding, and the education of all” (Ibid., p. 70).
It is unnecessary to describe the nature of
discussions on self-management in the Yugoslav reality, the determination of
profit-sharing, and the concepts of openness and reciprocity. Proudhon was a
clear bourgeois liberal regarding the role of the market, even though he
understood that the market must be controlled through analyses of economic
processes and, consequently, intervened upon. Our practice in this respect is
even more liberal than Proudhon envisioned. We will discuss its consequences
later.
4) Contractual relations must dominate not only in
the economic sphere but also in the political sphere of social life.
"Instead of laws, we will have contracts. No law will be made by majority
vote or unanimously. Every citizen, every commune, or every association will
make its own laws." (Ibid., p. 99). A consistent
principle of political decentralization excludes laws of general application.
5) Social integration will be achieved from the
bottom up, based on economic relations and not on common political decisions.
"Instead of administrative power, we will have economic forces." (Ibid., p. 99).
Foreshadowed Contradictions
6) The clan-based division of society will be
eliminated by a socio-professional or corporate society. "Instead of the
old class division of citizens into nobles and commoners, bourgeoisie and
proletariat, we will have categories and classes determined by the difference
in fractions: agriculture, industry, commerce, etc." (Ibid.,
p. 99).
7) Proudhon was sufficiently dialectical and
possessed the necessary skills for a zigzag political approach, which allowed
him to see that his society based on free association and self-management could
not escape internal contradictions. Having equated the democratic-liberal
exchange of goods through the market with the freedom and independence of the
productive forces, he had to acknowledge that the market destroys both the
equality of producers and their solidarity. Furthermore, he believed that
equality without legal intervention—that is, without some general laws or
regulations governing exchange—is unattainable.
That is why he demanded: "The community
necessarily requires equality and the law. Property, which arises from rational
autonomy and respect for personal service, postulates above all independence
and proportionality... Uniformity understood as law and identified downwards as
equality makes society tyrannical and unjust. Property, by its despotic
character and its destructive nature towards law, will soon become the
oppressor and will act against the interests of society... What the community
and property want is good, but what they actually produce is bad. Why is that?
Because each of the two is mutually exclusive and overlooks two things in
society: the community refuses independence and proportionality, while property
does not comply with the conditions of equality and the law." (from What is Property?, 1840, p. 342).
Proudhon proposes paying attention to a balanced
application of these four elements, which are mutually exclusive: equality,
law, property, and proportionality.
Contradictions in the Yugoslav Model
We find the same contradictions and dilemmas in our
workers' self-management. On the one hand, we guarantee full economic autonomy
to individual self-managed organizations, which necessarily leads in a market
economy to inequality in personal purchases (opposition to the "fashion of
equality" or to the observance of "proportionality":
compensation according to the effect of work on the organization and not
according to individual work); on the other hand, and in the name of the community,
there is pressure from workers for equal pay and position in society.
Our system has extended this full freedom to market
economic relations, that is, commodity-money relations. (Certain restrictions
arising from the transfer of a portion of surplus value to the State are
omitted here as they are a matter of principle.) A special ideology of
"socialist commodity-money relations" and the "socialist
market" has been invented, ignoring the fact that market laws operate in
the same way in capitalism as in socialism and in all societies that have
maintained market commodity-money exchange.
This democratic-liberal type of self-management
organization undoubtedly bears a strong resemblance to our workers'
self-management, which draws attention to certain problems and contradictions
in our system. Let us examine, then, what concrete difficulties and
consequences the application of the democratic-liberal concept of workers'
self-management would produce in our society.
First of all, in the spirit of bourgeois
liberalism, social organization is conceived as individualistic or
"atomistic," meaning that all associations in the economy are equal
in their legal status and occupy the same ideal social level (as was the case
with each bourgeois citizen in their capacity as owners of the means of
production in classical democracy). The organization of production was first
defined politically in the spirit of democratic freedom and not in the
economic-functional one, as is necessary, taking into consideration the
complexity of the division of social labor and the different roles in the
economic system.
Thus, we have cases where a certain type of
political democracy also determines the nature of "economic
democracy," which means that legal and political equality quickly leads to
economic inequality within production organizations.
In our country, as in classical bourgeois
liberalism, precisely this occurred, thanks to the lower level of development
of social organization in general and the division of labor in particular (and,
accordingly, the definition of the concept of "socialized labor"), as
well as through legal formalism that perfectly equates all production or
economic organizations without being able to understand their function, which
essentially differentiates them in society. (In our system, this legal
formalism is a consequence of the still dominant role of the
"prosecutor" in political life, compared to specialized
intelligentsia such as economists, sociologists, and engineers who work within
social organizations.)
The "Socialist" Market Ideology
The freedom of social activity was understood
primarily as the freedom of enterprise, whose main task is the exchange of
goods in a market dominated by competition and under conditions such that
supply and demand are truly the best mechanisms for economic development. The
view that the decisive factor in economic development is technological
development itself, and that sound principles are necessary regarding the
strategy for development and the distribution of collective and individual
income, is rejected.
Furthermore, despite the general understanding that
the market no longer plays the role it did in the last century, that it must
adopt various restrictions, and that it is generally no longer the primary
regulator of economic development, a "socialist ideology" was made of
it: commodity-money relations became "socialist commodity-money
relations," and the market became the "socialist market"; even
capital, thanks to the logic of profit, was transformed into "socialist
capital."
The absurdities of this kind are highlighted to
obscure the fact that the market, with its law of supply and demand, had
already experienced considerable restrictions under capitalism, not only due to
the socialization of production and distribution (social control of the means
of production) but also thanks to the role of trade unions (control of
so-called "indirect wages" or social performance). Social
intervention, which varies greatly depending on whether it concerns consumer
goods or the means of production, especially when it involves the development
of the forces of production in the form of scientific and technological factors
(training of work teams, organization of production, etc.), has currently led
to a polymorphic economic structure, such that the market has only secondary
significance (especially if we consider the importance of contemporary means
for promoting the development of the forces of production and research).
Political decentralization is not merely equated
with the loosening of the centralized, administrative economy, but also with
the abandonment of any development plan, which, under the conditions of modern
technological growth, is a sine qua non for rapid and harmonious societal
development. It is also understood that market logic cannot prevent internal
contradictions and inequalities within individual companies or in different
sectors of production, nor can it prevent unfair competition and conflicts of
all kinds. This is especially true considering our "Balkan circumstances,"
which demand constant compromises and require a mediator to resolve the
conflicts that arise.
Who should mediate?
But who should bear this mediating role? Perhaps a
"coordinating organization," as Proudhon proposes? Or a political
representative of the "permanent interests of society"—that is, the
Communist Party—as is proposed in our case? Or perhaps it is the
"mediating bureaucracy," whose existence is justified precisely by
the political, economic, and cultural atomization of society? It must be
clearly stated that behind Yugoslav workers' self-management lies a
"vertical organization of social power," embodied in the Communist
Party, which aims to perform these tasks. We will see later what the
consequences will be.
If we wanted to characterize our current system of
workers' self-management, we should point out the following features: a) legal
formalism; b) anti-functionalism in relation to the social role of the
organization of production; c) bourgeois liberalism with respect to the market
and the self-management of economic development; and d) the combination of
self-management organization at the horizontal level with the vertical
structure of state power. In short, it is a conception that remains within the
framework of democratic-liberal theory and has not yet reached the level of a
functional, democratic-humanist organization of production.
Consequence of Legal Formalism
One of the most visible negative consequences of
legal formalism for workers' self-management was the legal and social
equivalence of production organizations and intermediary organizations—that is,
those that produce surplus value and those that dispose of this alienated good
in the sphere of circulation (banks, commerce, foreign companies, etc.). This
legal equivalence quickly led to the subjugation of production organizations,
under market economy conditions, by intermediary organizations, which began to
exploit them ruthlessly.
The economic reform (the author is referring to the
changes implemented by the communist government in Belgrade in 1966.
Translator's note) led many production organizations into a serious
monopolistic situation within the financial structure. While banks and commerce
provided services in the previous period, in the current one they only
contribute to strengthening the economic power of financial centers, naturally
to the detriment of the interests of the working class and a sound development
policy.
The consequences of the non-functional and
legal-formal equation of production organizations with those of mediation are:
a) the monopolistic position of mediation organizations with respect to
production organizations; b) the unacceptable profits accrued by production
organizations. (A report from an assembly confirms that this financial and
commercial capital "brutally exploits" the lack of means for
investment and has logically taken the form of usury, exploitation, and
profiteering. This attitude, due to its forms and scale, surprises even
economists of the current capitalist system); c) the hindrance of the normal
increase in reproduction within production organizations by allocating
resources to enterprises that guarantee faster profits, especially through
negligence in modernizing production in accordance with current technology
(which, due to short amortization periods, cannot be achieved without the help
of social funds or without a comprehensive economic development strategy);
d) This investment orientation has stifled economic
development (and the economic reform also bears a large part of the
responsibility for this) and caused a mass exodus of labor abroad, as well as
inflation and a negative balance of payments due to imports of mostly useless
goods (imports clearly ensure high provisions for a small segment of society);
e) the excessively rapid enrichment of the so-called "middle class"
and an elite that emerged with financial and commercial capital, and, as a
concomitant phenomenon, the impoverishment and emigration of large masses of
workers in recent years; f) as the new centers of financial power occupied the
same space left by the privatized state capital, the business practices quickly
led to a sharpening of relations between nationalities in Yugoslavia. (Some
analyses received from Dalmatia specifically refer to "colonial
exploitation").
"Entrepreneurship" and "Consumer
Culture"
All of the above clearly demonstrates that the
working class in our country has faced significant economic hardship in recent
years. This is further confirmed by the thousands of strikes that occurred
during that period. Simultaneously, the streets overflowing with cars, the rise
in prices (a pair of shoes—this was in 1971, translator's note—cost 30,000
dinars, half a worker's salary), the proliferation of weekend homes, etc.,
demonstrate that a social stratum has rapidly become wealthy. People who visit
our country recognize at first glance that this is not a country of workers and
worker self-management, but rather the country of the "nouveau
riche." Many of our newspapers, mostly the most widely read, have contributed
to the rise not only of "entrepreneurship" but also to the psychology
of "consumer culture."
We have already pointed out that the
democratic-liberal conception of self-management rests on a certain atomization
of society. The same applies to the working class. It was incorporated into
self-managed organizations (i.e., companies – Editor's Note), which ostensibly
enjoyed the same rights and freedoms but quickly became unequal and extremely
dependent in the market.
The consequences of the non-functional and
legal-formal equation of production organizations with those of mediation are:
a) the monopolistic position of mediation organizations with respect to
production organizations; b) the unacceptable profits accrued by production
organizations. (A report from an assembly confirms that this financial and
commercial capital "brutally exploits" the lack of means for
investment and has logically taken the form of usury, exploitation, and
profiteering. This attitude, due to its forms and scale, surprises even economists
of the current capitalist system); c) the hindrance of the normal increase in
reproduction within production organizations by allocating resources to
enterprises that guarantee faster profits, especially through negligence in
modernizing production in accordance with current technology (which, due to
short amortization periods, cannot be achieved without the help of social funds
or without a comprehensive economic development strategy);
d) This investment orientation has stifled economic
development (and the economic reform also bears a large part of the
responsibility for this) and caused a mass exodus of labor abroad, as well as
inflation and a negative balance of payments due to imports of mostly useless
goods (imports clearly ensure high provisions for a small segment of society);
e) the excessively rapid enrichment of the so-called "middle class"
and an elite that emerged with financial and commercial capital, and, as a
concomitant phenomenon, the impoverishment and emigration of large masses of
workers in recent years; f) as the new centers of financial power occupied the
same space left by the privatized state capital, the business practices quickly
led to a sharpening of relations between nationalities in Yugoslavia. (Some
analyses received from Dalmatia specifically refer to "colonial
exploitation").
"Entrepreneurship" and "Consumer
Culture"
All of the above clearly demonstrates that the
working class in our country has faced significant economic hardship in recent
years. This is further confirmed by the thousands of strikes that occurred
during that period. Simultaneously, the streets overflowing with cars, the rise
in prices (a pair of shoes—this was in 1971, translator's note—cost 30,000
dinars, half a worker's salary), the proliferation of weekend homes, etc.,
demonstrate that a social stratum has rapidly become wealthy. People who visit
our country recognize at first glance that this is not a country of workers and
worker self-management, but rather the country of the "nouveau riche."
Many of our newspapers, mostly the most widely read, have contributed to the
rise not only of "entrepreneurship" but also to the psychology of
"consumer culture."
We have already pointed out that the
democratic-liberal conception of self-management rests on a certain atomization
of society. The same applies to the working class. It was incorporated into
self-managed organizations (i.e., companies – Editor's Note), which ostensibly
enjoyed the same rights and freedoms but quickly became unequal and extremely
dependent in the market.
This is necessary because, alongside the division
of the working class, numerous groups and associations of business and finance
managers emerged. Workers are aware that their influence on management in a
market economy is less than their influence on trade union relations and the
suitability of the commercial and market apparatus. This forces them into
increasing passivity and submission to the technicians and managers, on whom
their very existence often depends.
Therefore, most of the "wildcat strikes"
were not directed, as the press claims, against the "bureaucratic
management of companies," but against the actual situation of these
companies within the socialized economy. The disorganization of the working class
led to their protests often escalating into rebellions (destruction of
machinery, assaults on management, etc.).
Petty-Bourgeois Capitalism
If one considers that the non-functional status of
economic organizations led to exploitative relations between them, it is not
surprising that workers had grounds to accept it as an expression of respect
for the law of supply and demand (by granting the status of independent,
self-managed organizations even to intermediary organizations, despite the fact
that our Constitution provides for this definition—"social
administration"—which until now has only found application in the
University and in insignificant organizations, such as museums and lower
schools, because the leadership is more interested in controlling the intelligentsia
than the people in commerce and banking!).
This resulted not only in the loss of workers'
solidarity and equality, but also in the promotion of entrepreneurship in the
sense of market competition (read: capitalist), all of which contributed to the
inevitable development of "group egoism" and the spirit of the petty
capitalist businessman. Thus. Not only was the
impoverishment of certain working-class strata accepted, but also the
enrichment of the middle classes, as a normal phenomenon. Workers' protests and
strikes were therefore declared illegal.
In this way, workers' self-management in our
country brought about something entirely different, namely,
"petty-bourgeois capitalism," instead of "self-managed
socialism." This may seem paradoxical to those unfamiliar with democratic-liberal
thought and Proudhon's ideas on the characteristics of a self-managed society.
(Although this capitalism, with respect to the concentration of the means of
production, has taken the form of "big capital" in our country, it is
still far below the concentration of capital found in contemporary capitalist
countries; in our case, what is lacking is a modern policy of organization and
development, that is, advanced technology, instead of the petty-bourgeois sense
of usury and short-term profit.)
The rise of the petty-bourgeois mentality has also
been considerably influenced by the mass media, which immediately oriented
themselves towards the new politics of "market economy relations",
believing that they were more progressive if they propagated a "consumer
society" of the Western European type.
The argument began to be made that the law of
supply and demand applies to both culture and the sale of "sausages,"
so anything reminiscent of Marxism disappeared from newspaper columns (the
political bureaucracy set the tone for the battle against Marxism), and thus
new concepts of value emerged: the promotion of sensationalism, forms of social
pathology, eroticism, pop music, snobbery, naked women, the latest car models,
and everything that appeals to a petty bourgeois, a nouveau riche, and that
might interest them.
If we compare the dominant style in our society
with that of Western "consumer" society, we must immediately say that
we fall short. Bourgeois society never formulated an ideology of the
commodity-money relationship, but rather always sought to counter the negative
consequences of the capitalist system with "higher values"—moral and
ideological values, emphasized as being in the "general interest"
(contrary to private interest)—for example, the consideration and resolve of an
"honest businessman" and "fair competition" as opposed to
our Balkan orientation of usury and peasant cunning, of enrichment without
effort or work—as well as the transplantation of Puritan morality to economic
life and religious modesty and a sense of ethical duty to private life and
administration, in such a way that moral and social principles were constantly
opposed to the practice of the capitalist market.
Increasingly less "of socialist
consciousness"
This contradiction of capitalist or bourgeois man
is well known from numerous analyses of bourgeois society. In our time, a more
consistent art of ideological thought was sought to resolve these
"bourgeois contradictions" at the level of ideas, not in the sense of
the positive aspects of the bourgeoisie (its business ethics) but in the
negative sense (enrichment and the creation of social differences). From this,
it becomes clear why certain criticisms—admittedly quite moderate—from our
Marxist philosophers and sociologists, referring to the negative consequences
of the competitive and consumer society, were met with fierce opposition from
the "official ideologues."
It is understood that the social processes of this
kind led to the dissolution of the class consciousness of the working man and
to the rejuvenation and affirmation of the class consciousness of the social
stratum of the means and profits. It was becoming increasingly clear,
especially in the realm of social consciousness and the community forces that
shape it (mass media, the official ideology of society, cultural production),
that this society has less and less connection with a "socialist
consciousness" and, moreover, does not want one.
More recently, the ideologues of the
petty-bourgeois revival have also tried to convince us that socialist consciousness,
along with Marxism, endangers society and must therefore be eradicated with
more vigor than has been done so far. Who could claim, based on serious
sociological analysis, that workers' self-management at the global social level
has not turned against the working class?
Consequences of Political Decentralization
The recent decentralization measures, through the
transfer of most of the Federation's powers to the republics, have provoked—as
is well known—concerns in Western European countries, even though they were
welcomed in our country. This concern should not be limited solely to the
failures of our economic system, known abroad—rampant inflation, stagnant
economic growth, the mass exodus of labor, the constantly growing trade
deficit, etc.—but should also extend to the fear that Yugoslavia, due to its
internal difficulties, may lose its role as a "bridge" between West
and East, as a neutral factor in the politics of the great powers and blocs, a
role in which it has so far performed successfully… From the perspective of our
internal development, we should understand this political decentralization as a
natural unfolding of those processes defined in the theory of state extinction,
that is, as the strengthening of the foundation of self-management in our
society and the process of integration of its different regions. But precisely
the opposite trends have been revealed: the emergence of antagonisms between
our republics; the publication of economic data on equal relations between the
republics and the accentuation of their state character, without corresponding
changes in self-management; the mobilization of "national interests"
in the presence of political tensions to exert pressure from other quarters;
the reactivation of nationalist sentiments among some intellectuals (as well as
among some unorganized workers); and the manipulation of rumors and other
factors of tension between nationalities.
All this demonstrates that the rulers of this
country are ignorant of the "strategy of social innovation," which
presupposes a reasonable and well-considered introduction of the changes to be
undertaken.
As we have said, political and economic
decentralization perfectly aligns not only with our theory of the withering
away of the state, but also with modern conceptions of a dynamic and immediate
approach to the development of society. Logically, this is under one condition:
we must know what we can rationally decentralize; under what conditions, given
the highly complex organization of modern society; and how and for what purpose
we should do so, when the goal is to develop this society rapidly in order to
occupy the desired position among industrialized nations.
But precisely what we lack is such a conception,
and that is why rational argumentation is being replaced by cheap demagoguery.
It is clear that a common language could not be found in the development
processes of a multinational community while the new centers of finance and
commerce threatened to definitively destroy the balance in relations between
nationalities. Thus, "the national question" was resurrected, in
reality alongside the class question. Therefore, the development of our
national relations will depend, to a large extent, on how we resolve the class
dimension of this issue.
Those who today attempt to resolve this situation
through political means are, naturally, not very keen to discuss how this came
about, how the alienation of the working class's surplus value (translator's
note) occurred through political decisions within the "capitalist
group"—that is, how doubly alienated capital was transformed into capital
that "normalizes" itself in its traditional capitalist functions...
Trends of National Separatism
In addition to the idea of the state
character of the republics (within the Yugoslav Federation—Editor's note for
Wissenschaftscher Dienst Suedosteuropa), there is now talk of the
"national economy" in each of the republics separately, even while
the unity of the Yugoslav economic system is acknowledged, at least in declarative
form.
This is why the tendency toward separation within
the framework of the republics at the present time, a tendency evidently
instigated by nationalist and separatist circles, cannot be entirely
discounted. If we are dealing with small nations, such as the peoples united
today in Yugoslavia, then it is necessary to have a clear understanding of
several development alternatives that emerge at every stage of both political
and economic decentralization.
First, it must be clearly understood that in the
decentralization of the economic system in the most developed capitalist
countries, there is a well-advanced practice precisely with respect to the
objectives that must be achieved through the efficiency of production
potential. Therefore, not every form of decentralization should be seen as a
weakening of that potential.
The decentralization of economic decisions takes
place under conditions of greater integration of the economic system (an
advanced division of labor, coordination of production tasks). Decentralization
is not in contradiction with greater integration of the economic system. It
must be borne in mind that the contemporary economic system is a heterogeneous
and multifaceted creation that extends from the highly integrated areas of
"large systems," such as the energy sector, telecommunications, and
transportation, through the fields of basic industries, to fully integrated
consumer goods companies.
Real integration goes beyond the control and
regulation of the entire system through functional intervention of state or
societal funds; its objective is not only the maintenance of a certain balance
(equilibrium) in economic processes, but also the preparation of a secure
foundation for development processes in the most important sectors of overall
economic progress.
Dilemma of Small Nations
Here we see the dilemma facing small nations: it is
common knowledge that decentralization, along with the tolerance of
"national" and regional interests, is only feasible in sectors
lacking significant investment and requiring no highly developed scientific or
technological foundation. In sectors requiring large-scale integration based on
advanced scientific and technological systems, certain norms of "large
systems" must be respected.
The danger to the economic progress of small
nations lies in isolating entire economies within regional boundaries, that is,
in promoting maximum independence and autarky at the level of a technically
underdeveloped economy. Some proponents of this process, of enclosing
themselves within "national borders," invoke the possibility of
establishing relations with developed economies outside Yugoslavia, with their
large industrial complexes. However, we know that they grant their partners
patents and licenses whose high technical level precludes any possibility of
competition.
Because of the inclination of our country's
commercial agents towards foreign capital, the arguments of this class fall on
fertile ground. It is unnecessary to demonstrate that "independence"
by this class would be nothing more than the continuation of semi-colonial
dependence on foreign capital, that is, a return to the situation in which
Yugoslavia found itself during the war...
The countries of Western Europe that were once
"great powers," such as Germany, France, and Italy, have understood
that each of them, despite their 50 or 70 million inhabitants, is small when it
comes to developing companies with modern technology (for example, computer
production is a US monopoly) and that they need measures for economic integration.
For small nations that have achieved a degree of
economic independence and also wish to utilize scientific and technological
advancements in their development, this problem is much more acute, as they
face the danger of their most talented and skilled people leaving the country
because they "see no prospects for their own future..." To encourage
them to remain here, in their homeland, it is necessary to establish a sound
economic and social development policy; to identify the industrial sectors that
require advanced technology and that, within the Yugoslav territory, best
utilize available reserves and productive potential; to ensure integration with
European countries on equal terms in terms of technological advancement; and to
promote a broad network of supranational or European educational institutions
(with the possibility of faculty exchange) in our country. And, consequently,
to awaken the awareness among producers and intellectuals that it is worthwhile
to sacrifice for this country...
This is achievable, in my opinion, only if the
citizens of small developing towns have a well-developed social consciousness,
thus placing themselves at the forefront among more developed nations. In our
country, this can only happen if we have a special conception of the social
revolution, that is, a yearning to realize self-managed socialism.
Two Periods of the Revolution
Each social revolution has its own dynamic, and
logically, so does the socialist revolution. It can be limited to the entire
class if identification with its objectives is at its maximum, if the
individual "I" is incorporated into the new social "We," if
the utopian ideal of social reality approaches maximum realization.
It can also be limited to the detotalized phase if
the individual plan begins to differentiate itself from the new social
"We" (and "We" becomes the former); if the chasm opens up
between utopian reality and that of society (a chasm between word and deed). If
the real structure, with its social and ideological stratifications, begins to
crack again, and instead of common goals, the discussion shifts to the
rightness or wrongness of social institutions, the future begins to disappear
from the horizon. And the past in our country, with such horrifying memories,
renews its plea for the right to life.
It is natural that precisely in the phase of
detotalization, it becomes clear how many revolutionary changes were
"real" changes and how the new social consciousness was a
"socialist consciousness" and not just an empty phase, behind which,
in a new form, the old and familiar phenomena were hidden: petty bourgeoisie,
individual and petty-bourgeois egoism, fanaticism, nationalism, and chauvinism.
We could paraphrase Nietzsche and say that socialism, too, is like that force
that always desires the new and always engenders the old. The conservatives,
naturally, are thrilled by this... Are revolutions the greatest consumers of
human spirit and illusions? Don't they leave behind a trail of human skeletons,
terrible in appearance, who rush to the mounts and
armor of medieval knights? Clearly, there are no longer any mounts from the
past so gleaming that they could cover the nakedness of those spirits who have
lost the illusions of their youth. The loss of illusions can still only be
masked by the power acquired, and this is merely a disguise for impotence
through apparent power.
National Sentiment
The psychology of the revolution's
"companions," their enthusiasm and their decline, if we are talking
about revolution and communism, raises for us the problem
of human orientation. The revolution itself clearly cannot be measured
according to such oscillations, because it has a transcendental dimension and
is not affected by superficial rebellions.
Regarding communism, it must be said that for those
who have the courage to identify as communists, communism exists not only as
class struggle, as the conflict between communists and capitalists, which does
not disappear with the disappearance of class struggle, with the defeat and
disappearance of capitalism, nor with the transformation of all people into the
"working people." It exists not only as the opposite of bourgeois
nationalism, and it is not here to hand the red book to "progressive
nationalism" (which has not yet been able to define itself). Rather, communism
transcends both class and national orientations... Many currently consider
"national sentiment" to be the essential element not only of national
identification but also of social identification altogether. Thinking this way,
national sentiment is used in an indeterminate and irrational manner to defend
positions ranging from the left to the most extreme right. In fact, this
currently serves to disguise and mystify the very positions and ideas that it
should be protecting.
But it must be said immediately that "national
sentiment" is by no means a mystery from the standpoint of modern
psychology and sociology. Based on numerous studies of both a theoretical and
experimental nature, it is now possible to determine precisely when progressive
tendencies and positions are hidden behind it, and when reactionary ones are.
"National sentiment," therefore, like any
other group identification, can rest on two kinds of identification, between
which one can oscillate, sometimes leaning to one side, sometimes to the other,
giving national sentiment a character of varied meanings, an ambivalent
character. It is thus founded on the mechanism of internal group solidarity
(Gruppen intern, German expression. — Translator's note) and antagonism with
the external group (Gruppen-extern). One identifies with one's group, feels a
sense of belonging to it, and is drawn into its internal relationships,
regardless of whether it is family, tribe, nation, or race. One sniffs out and
marks the boundaries for those who do not belong to one's group, those who are
Gruppen-extern, that is, outside one's own group...
"Ethnocentrism" and Nationalism
The question arises as to whether, in general,
there exists an internal group identification without antagonism toward the
external group; that is, whether national sentiment can manifest itself without
enmity toward another nation. Research demonstrates that there are internal
group identifications that are not unconditionally the result of antagonism
toward an external group. We have a special case, in this sense, when the
internal group identification is not only with one's own nation or people but
with all of humanity.
Romanticism, which had revived national sentiment,
simultaneously strove to develop this internal group sentiment for all of
humanity. If enmity toward other peoples predominates as a condition for
national identification within "national sentiment," then we speak of
"ethnocentrism," a persistent tendency to emphasize the superiority
of one's own people and to defame others. This ethnocentrism constitutes the
essence of nationalism and, therefore, can never be progressive, as certain
ignorant people claim.
How can we recognize ethnocentrism? A nationalist cannot, for example,
understand that one can be loyal simultaneously to a more restricted social
construct and a broader one, that one can be at the same time a good Croat or a
good Serb, a good Yugoslav or European, and finally, a
good world citizen... Despite the differences within a society or a people,
which are greater than those between peoples who have reached a similar level
of development, nationalists try to emphasize the differences between peoples
and conceal the differences within their own. They are convinced that the
differences within their people are not a consequence of real social relations,
but rather of some "imported ideas"... "Patriotism" pushes
their ethnocentrism toward hatred of "foreign ideas" and the
"foreign agents" who are importing them.
Logically, these external agents and these external ideas serve as
scapegoats for one's own inconveniences and adversities... Nationalism and
chauvinism in an advanced society are always a sign of collective neurosis, so
it is no wonder that they unite a large number of such unequal and immature
people, thus producing fusions between "primitive mentalities" or
"primitives" who willingly act as tribunes, and intellectuals who,
disillusioned in their ambitions, dislocated by their unresolved conflicts, and
uncertain about their objective, desire a strong social authority and a
"firm social order..."
Mussolini and Hitler considered it their duty to transform the workers'
class-based unions into "national unions," that is, to liberate them
from proletarian internationalism. For the nationalists, the internationalism
of the working class and that of the Catholic Church was the "principal
enemy of the German people." In our country, too, some nationalists demand
the suppression of class-based trade unions, that is, the elimination of their
internationalism. They call for a fight against "international
communism" and "international Catholicism." Many of these
ideologues carry in their pockets the membership card of the Communist League
of Yugoslavia (of the Communist Party—Translator's note)... Historical
experience teaches us that nationalists are incapable of resolving the problem
of equal relations between peoples. Now it is revealed to us why this is so.
This problem can only be resolved from an internationalist perspective, from
the standpoint of the great community of peoples, from which all ethnocentrism,
all mutual hatred, and all other kinds of prejudice must be expelled...
"Praxis"
- A falsely liberal magazine
Zlatko Markus (*)
After noting the doubts and confusion caused by the
journal Praxis in Zagreb and in "Yugoslav" society in general due to
its incomprehensible philosophical ideas and terminology, the author states:
"Nevertheless, the role and significance of Praxis became clear in
concrete situations. If some individuals did not understand what Praxis wrote,
the concrete actions, let's be frank, of its members clarified what they really
think about a whole series of crucial issues. Namely: when these men in 1968
tried to transform the student revolt (June Movement) into an exclusively
anti-Titoist arena, on the one hand, and an anti-Unitarist-Grand Serb
opposition arena, on the other, from that moment on, the "system" of
thought of Praxis no longer needed to be deciphered in the alchemical
laboratories of philosophy seminars about the young Marx.
They did not highlight either Unitarianism or the
[unitarianism] as the main danger." Stalinist dogmatism,
but above all, to the nationalist movements in Croatia. Thus, however,
they showed Praxis's calling card, and the face that appeared before the Croatian
public, viewed from the broad platform of his struggle for national and social
freedom, was neither sympathetic nor acceptable in the slightest.
Many felt relief upon realizing that before their
eyes, yet another illusion was being shattered: Praxis, therefore, was not a
messenger of freedom and, more importantly, he had not even remotely developed
his position regarding the preparation and execution of the struggle for
national freedom. For those people, socialism was and remained merely a
theoretical problem: abstract entities that floated in his texts in both a
national and social void.
But, nevertheless, the people lived,
they lived in fact, suffering injustices both nationally and socially,
especially when it came to the Croats in Yugoslavia. Regarding this concrete
aspect of the problem, regarding the continuous filling of prisons with
Croatian prisoners, Praxis, thus ridiculing his own Namely,
he had neither ear nor genius. Indeed, every anti-Croatian act found explicit
approval in the pages of this newspaper. But to dispel the theoretical fog that
obscured Praxis's intentions, it is necessary, as always in similar cases, to
resort to incontroversial facts known to all.
1) Praxis first appeared in September 1964 as the
journal of the Croatian Philosophical Society. Initially, the main voice was
that of Croatian philosophers, who attempted to give a humanist dimension to
Marxist economic theory. They tried to give Marxism a concrete and human
meaning. But without success. Some of the texts from
that time will remain in the history of philosophy as a contribution to the
humanization and concretization of Marxist abstractions, which had meaning in
the time in which they arose but which, from the 19th century onward and in
parallel with economic and political changes, began to lose it. Moreover,
Marx's general predictions of the revolution in Western Europe They proved to
be fundamentally wrong.
2) On the dates 10/VI/65 and 11/XII/66 Miko Tripalo
(the number 2 of the Croatian communist leadership, dismissed by Tito in 1971
relying on military force. — Translator's obs.) said about Praxis and its
people "they did not participate in the social liquidation of Stalinism,
but were verbally included in that struggle when the main battle had already
been won..." that "to Ranković's group, Naturally, the role of
the Croatian leadership did not suit him (Tripalo was referring to the attempts
to "contribute in the most effective way to the realization of real
equality of the Croatian people and our Republic within the Yugoslav
Federation." — Author's obs.).
That is why an attempt was made to direct a part of
the intellectuals against the Central Committee of the Communist League of
Croatia, and thereby bring about its discredit. Unfortunately, some, perhaps
without knowing it, played an unpleasant role..."
At that same time, the first controversy also began
between M. Tripalo and Danilo Pejović, then editor of Praxis. Today
Pejović himself ("purged" also after the "purge"
against the "Croatian spring" in 1971. — Translated
obs.) recognizes that there has never been a
more honest controversy between a politician and a philosopher. Tripalo had
enough strength, intelligence and conviction for an open controversy, although
it did not lead to Praxis being persecuted by the Croats, despite the fact that
he constantly acted against his communist leaders. He well sensed the trap that
was being prepared for him and the Croatian leadership, in international
opinion, if he had pursued philosophical ideas. Furthermore, Tripalo knew very
well that the policies of the Croatian leaders were much more popular and
accepted by the people than anything that appeared in the pages of Praxis.
In 1967, with the appearance of the
"Declaration on the name and status of the Croatian literary language",
Praxis had to show its cards. For Praxis, an act of this nature was extremely
suspicious. In Croatia and in Yugoslavia in general, it was openly said that
Praxis received help from Belgrade through the people of Ranković (a
feared police chief at the time. — Translated obs.),
who remained unshakable in the federal apparatus. Furthermore, it is no secret
that some of the most prominent men of Praxis were imprisoned on Goli Otok (a
small desert island in the Adriatic, place of atonement for so many victims of
the Tito regime. — Translated obs.) by
Stalinists or followers of the Informburo. (Currently the regime takes
advantage of this argument in its revenge against eight philosophers from
Belgrade).
3) In 1968 Praxis tried to impose an oppositional
content on the student rebellion where unitarianism appeared as the main point.
Secondly, the vote against the economic reform, initiated in
Croatia. The source and inspiration of Praxis' solutions, which its
people did not hide in the least, was the old "planned economy" of
Ranković. Ranković's group was interested in bringing Zagreb students
within reach of police beatings. I have participated very actively in these
events and written about the real need for neo-leftist thought in Croatia.
At the student assembly in Zagreb in June 1968,
bloodshed was prevented primarily by Ivan Supek and Vanja Sutlić (Vanja
Sutlić remains, even after the last war, one of the most prominent figures
in Croatian philosophy). I was among the student masses at that time, along
with Sutlić's daughter, who—upon hearing her father address the students
and warn them that the Stalinist dark forces, through Praxis, wished to exploit
the rebellion for their own purposes—took a stand against him, at least
initially. It was a speech of paramount importance and great resolve.
Sutlić did not falter, despite seeing the
gravity of the situation and feeling compelled to raise his voice against his
own fellow philosophers. He did so with composure and dignity. I tried to
convince his daughter that Sutlić was literally saving the skin of
Croatian youth at that moment, as well as the Croatian political and national
intelligentsia. In the other faculties of the University of Zagreb, Dr. Marko
Veselica and Dr. Šime Djodan spoke, in service of Sutlić's objective, that
is, presenting Croatian students with the choice between unity or freedom.
4) Then came "the
Croatian Spring," a period in which Praxis gradually sank into
inconsequential waters and exhausted its "philosophical" activity in
the drunken revels of Korčula. (These are the international philosophical
congresses, inaugurated and held by the people of Praxis on the Croatian island
of Korčula for several consecutive years. — Translator's note). Then
Karageorjevo intervened. Praxis found itself back in "its own
element."
One of the most morbid members of the new quisling
group, Marinko Gruić, at a seminar held in Krapinske Toplice, awarded
Praxis the highest Unitarian distinction, noting how this newspaper, during the
now-past period of the "Croatian Spring," "defended correct
theses regarding the national and the nationalist." Instead of feeling
ashamed of the benevolent hand of a representative of the sectarian Stalinist
regime, Praxis swelled with joy, and its editor publicly explained how Praxis
never acted politically, except in 1971 against the Croatian (communist, of
course) leaders, when it attempted to portray the "Croatian Spring"
as a movement of the "middle class." In Marxist terminology, the
middle class is always reactionary, among other things.
5) After the conflict over the declaration on the
national language, Croatian philosophers left Praxis one after another. They
were: Danilo Pejović, Ante Marin, Zlatko Posavac, Vladan Švacov, Muhamed
Filipović, and, most recently, Besim Ibrahimpašić. Meanwhile, Praxis
had not completed its unitarian mission. As the
Croatian philosophers departed, it increasingly became the mouthpiece of
Serbian philosophers, primarily the Belgrade professors, now dismissed. (In February of this year. — Translator's note.) Their
judgment should not be blanket. Among them are eminent philosophers and
sociologists. The work and thought of Ljubo Tadić and Svetozar
Stojanović deserve and inspire admiration. These are honest and insightful
men who, through their work, secured a considerable number of friends and
admirers, especially in Croatia. The case of Mihajlo Marković is another
story altogether, for example.
It is neither a secret nor a revelation that
Marković, at the end of the war, was demobilized as an officer of OZNA (secret
police) and earned the label of Great Serbian nationalist. When the newspaper
Enciclopedia Moderna was founded in Zagreb, and while the project for the
Encyclopedia of Our Time was being prepared, Marković was commissioned to
write the philosophical section. He came to Zagreb often, and we, who worked in
the newspaper's editorial office, would receive him and have lunch with him at
the Palace Hotel, where we frequently discussed matters. Marković spoke to
us about the reasons for his involvement.
He once told us that there are three important
organizations in Zagreb that disseminate ideas in the manner of Strossmayer
(the great orator at the First Vatican Council, see SC Nos. 32-35, pp. 44-88,
essay by I. Tomas, translator's note) throughout Yugoslavia. These are the
Lexicographical Institute or the Yugoslav Encyclopedia, the Yugoslav Academy,
and, currently, the Encyclopedia of Our Time. According to him, the place that
directs these institutions or enterprises—eminently spiritual and no less
political—will hold power and influence in Yugoslavia, and this is undoubtedly
Zagreb. This is why he maintained that he should commit himself in the name of
Serbia. I replied that we Croats would gladly like to call the Yugoslav Academy
of Sciences and Arts by a Croatian name. Even after the publication of the
first texts by Sime Djodan (a former Tito fighter, a Croatian professor
specializing in political economy, currently in precarious health, sentenced by
Tito to six years in prison—Translator's note), Marković loudly protested.
We warned him, especially Professor Supek (the
purged former rector of the University of Zagreb, one of Yugoslavia's leading
experts on atomic energy, and a professor of theoretical physics—Translator's
note), that there was no reason for his protest and that he was demanding
undemocratic things, namely, the right to write for himself and the prohibition
of that same right for Djodan. The hatred with which Marković spoke about
Djodan on that occasion went beyond the norms of academic conduct.
One of the editors of Praxis—until its very last
moment—Gajo Petrović was at the Faculty of Philosophy in Zagreb in 1945,
among those who arrived with pistols on their belts and wearing American
military shirts. He himself demanded the removal of Logic from the curriculum,
calling it "a bourgeois discipline." Dr. Vladimir Filipović, the
most renowned Croatian philosopher, warned the newcomers that his matter was
not so simple. And it wasn't long before Dr. Filipović appeared in court
for having taught philosophy courses during the existence of the Independent
State of Croatia. Petrović, meanwhile, received his doctorate in
philosophy and was appointed professor of the very subject he had sought to
abolish in 1945. Dr. V. Filipović recounted this to us as a witness,
informing the students without malice, deeply aware that it was he who had
educated and taught philosophical thought to that group who appeared with
pistols on their belts at the philosophy seminars.
6) It was precisely from the Croatian philosophical
circle that a sharp and unpleasant critique of Praxis emerged during the
"Croatian Spring." Among other things, it referred to the
"masturbation of young Marx's Marxism." (I intentionally omit the
name of the philosopher who made this assessment because I know that Praxis
still has many friends within the regime.)
The author then reproduces the well-known opinions
of Marx and Engels regarding their contempt for small nations, specifically
labeling the Croatian people as "reactionary." The Habsburgs used
Croatian soldiers to strangle the Vienna revolution. He then continues
verbatim: "The fact that Marx and Engels thought this way and wrote these
opinions according to which a people could be by nature 'counter-revolutionary'
is no indication of the intellectual brilliance or political maturity of their
authors. It seemed normal to them to deny the Croats their language and their
homeland. Moreover, and not just to console myself, Marx and Engels, I dare
say, were precursors of Hitler in their dark racist theory, according to which
Slavs were, in accordance with revolutionary criteria, inferior beings.
Thus they wrote: 'We repeat, with the exception of
the Poles, the Russians, and perhaps the Slavs in Turkey, no other Slavic
people has a future of their own for the simple reason that they do not have
the elementary historical, geographical, political, and industrial conditions
for independence, which could prove vital to them...'" It was precisely
these ideas of the young Marx that Praxis drew upon when it came to Croatia. On
his many trips abroad, Praxis's collaborators —Marković above all, the
others less so— they said after the Karageorjevo coup that the imprisonment of
Croatian intellectuals and workers was an "internal matter of Yugoslavia."
All this time, they instructed their friends in the West along these lines, and
not without success.
In this maneuver, they gave preference to the US,
considering America decisive in Western policy regarding Yugoslavia. Special
attention was paid abroad to every word, every step they took. The dean of the
Faculty of Philosophy in Belgrade, Sima Ćirković, resigned because of
the expulsion of these people from the faculty. A few words must also be said
about this individual. He is "known" as the author of the history of
Bosnia, where, in his own words, he tried to ensure that "the Croats did
not take over Bosnia." This criterion reveals the scholarly nature of the
historian Ćirković.
7) Then a storm arose surrounding these professors.
Let us forget the fact that the Belgrade regime did not show even a fraction of
the patience it had shown to Serbian professors when it came to Croatian
professors, and let us look at what NIN (a Belgrade newspaper, a Serbian
police-military organ—Translator's note) wrote in its February 2, 1975 edition:
"The decision of the Assembly of the Socialist Republic of Serbia last
Tuesday deprives this group of the possibility of continuing to use students
for their political purposes. However, their personal salaries and other
opportunities for scholarly work remain unaffected.
From now on, they will only receive their salaries
from the treasury of the Secretariat of the Republic for Education." Does
it, therefore, make sense to compare what is happening to the Belgrade
professors with what was done to the Croatian professors and students? No
Croatian professor receives their salary; Entire families were suddenly left at
the mercy of dire economic conditions. Croatian professors were imprisoned in
places where they were slowly poisoned. Serbian professors only faced
reassignment, as they continued to receive their previous salaries and were
able to continue their scientific work. Two Yugoslav criteria are present here
in all their dimensions... I repeat, what hurt us Croatians the most was the despicable
maneuver by the people of Praxis behind our backs; it was a constant incitement
of the regime to attack Croatian leaders; also, denunciations by these same
people abroad against the Croatian struggle, labeling it "fascist."
Wherever Praxis and its group went, they declared that the Croatians were
fascists. An interview with Ernest Bloch was published in the German weekly Der
Spiegel on February 3 of this year. He is a nonagenarian who, even if he wanted
to, could not have any real knowledge of the conditions in Yugoslavia.
Nevertheless, E. Bloch's name currently carries considerable weight in Europe.
We saw him in Croatia, in Korčula, at the
Praxis seminars. Gajo Petrović and others led him by the arm, speaking to
him gently and deliberately, not about philosophical problems, but about the
bad and corrupt Croats—the "fascist" Croats. Now the old man is
repeating this "information" to Der Spiegel. Answering the question
of whether in Yugoslavia "economic misery is being confused with the
nationalist emotions typical of a multinational state," Bloch replied:
"Yes, this is a dangerous moment in the Croatian case. But the ban is
directed against the professors in Belgrade, not those in Zagreb. The Croats,
as fascists, were dangerous, I can imagine..." He is clearly referring
here to the "Croatian Spring," the period before 1971, labeling it,
against the prevailing public opinion here in the West, as "fascist."
What is to be said to Bloch regarding this disconcerting accusation? It is
worth noting the reports in Time magazine, both in London and New York, which
emphasized that there is no fascism in Croatia, but there is in Serbia,
especially in the Stojadinović movement.
American and British correspondents emphasized that
Zagreb would take a different path from Belgrade, no matter what happened, and
so it did. But the best response to Bloch, on behalf of the Croats, is
contained in an idea of Camus's, uttered after the crushing of
the Hungarian Revolution of 1956: "If absolute truth belongs to some unknown
entity in this world, it does not belong to the man or party that claims to
possess it. If it is a matter of historical truth, the more one claims to
possess it, the more one lies. In the final analysis, one becomes the
executioner of truth. The Hungarian rebellion erupted against widespread lies.
It was therefore necessary to kill the men who fought against lies and then
denigrate them with a counter-lie by declaring them fascists." These words
need no explanation. They were spoken by one of "the most lucid minds of
this century," and they resonated with the majority of opinions. It must
be remembered that in the West, the Hungarian rebellion, like the Croatian one
today through Bloch's words, was labeled "fascist." I should add that
a book by Bloch was published in Yugoslavia. It was translated by Davor Rodin,
a Croatian, and the introduction was written by another Croatian philosopher,
Danilo Pejović. The book was printed in Croatian by Nolit, a publisher in
Belgrade.
Among the few books I took with me into exile was
also *Introduction to Philosophy* (Tübingen). I took it primarily because it
proclaimed humanity as a possibility. At the end of his book, Bloch says:
"Man, who is in the making, is a real possibility that is not yet
completely determined; these are, indeed, incontrovertible categories for the
development of our lives: literary, philosophical, and practical. To keep them
open in the experiment of humanity and in the experiment of the world—this is
the aim of this introduction."
I would publicly ask Bloch: has he excluded Croats
from his "human experiment"? Are they also men? According to him,
they are "fascists."
Be that as it may, there's no need to stir up
emotions in this case, because it's... quite simple: Bloch has repeated what he
heard from the people of Praxis and, above all, from Gajo Petrović. We can
also demonstrate this materially. In 1968, Petrović attacked Veselica (a
former federal deputy, former professor at the University of Zagreb, a Croat,
sentenced to seven years in prison. Translator's note) after all his attempts,
on behalf of Rankoviéć, to attract Croatian youth had been thwarted.
At that time Petrović wrote: "Veselica's
true face appears both in the police-like distrust with which he takes an
interest in the 'various political and other motives' that are present behind
the stormy student refrain 'students - workers' and 'Zagreb - Belgrade'
(Veselica, perhaps, would like to hear 'workers - capitalists' or 'Zagreb -
Madrid') and in the enthusiasm with which he speaks about Šime Djodan's speech
at the Faculty of Philosophy, which was made impossible by a prolonged chant:
'Brotherhood - Unity'."
When Dr. Veselica was taken to prison in 1972, Mata
Rajković, a man pathologically possessed by hatred of Croats, quoted this
very passage from Praxis. As for Petrović's lies about the supposed
refrains, many of us were present when a couple of shouters chanting the
worn-out slogan "brotherhood - unity" were silenced. Doesn't Gajo
Petrović remember that Croatian students used to sing: "Zagreb weeps,
Belgrade laughs, they killed our dearest ones"?
There is therefore no doubt that Petrović told
Bloch that the Croats were dreaming of a Zagreb-Madrid axis. There is no doubt,
and the source of this tiny bit of malice uttered by Bloch takes on a new
dimension, for he who said it did so simply out of hatred; that is to say, it
carries no weight even when repeated by a world-renowned nonagenarian.
Here the circle of Praxis is closing. Tito is the
person, the ultimate authority, whose judgment in this matter could have
decisive importance. But the same cannot be said about the information he was
receiving, which allowed him to say at the 9th Congress of the Communist League
of Yugoslavia: "Here we have several philosophers of Praxis, several dogmatists,
including those who carried out various distortions in the administration of
state security, etc. All of these have now joined forces. Tito, if he had not
had a real basis for his statement, would not have said it at the Party
Congress, putting together the philosophers and officials of UDBA (even the
worst ones...) (UDBA is the omnipotent police service of Yugoslavia. —
Translator's note)." Thus, we finally return to the beginning of Praxis, that is, to the fact already pointed out by Tripalo
that some of its members began their work solely to discredit the Croatian
leaders. We return to the beginning of Praxis, when these people, in the name
of Ranković's planned economy, attacked Croatian economic reform and the
market economy.
The reactionary magnitude of this fact and the These ideas are increasingly confirmed by world public
opinion. Recently, Andrew Nagorski, a writer for the weekly magazine Newsweek,
traveled throughout Eastern Europe and reached the following conclusion:
"Simply put, economic reform was always a detonating factor in Eastern
Europe" (Newsweek, 10/11/1975).
Indeed, this kind of "political dynamite"
was first used in Croatia, orchestrated by Tripalo, Crvenkovski,
Dabčević-Kučar, Kavčić, and others. Against them stood
Ranković's old federal team, which found its spokespeople, friends, and
mercenaries in a philosophical journal whose editor is still listed today in
the Croatian Philosophical Association.
Finally, and more recently, Dobriša
Ćosić, now a leading figure among Serbian writers, became an
unavoidable part of the Praxis narrative. Because of him, the last issue was
withdrawn from circulation. number of Praxis.
Ćosić wrote about his country and said that its history would be a
"knife history". (With these words begins his novel Deobe
(Divisions), where with full right and conviction he tried to discover motives,
inspirations and the energy of the četniks on Serbian soil.
Better than anyone else, Ćosić knows that
in Croatia, no book about the motives of the "ustaša" phenomenon could
be printed at any time after the last war, not even in 1971. Moreover,
Ćosić himself denies the right to write and publish a book of this
kind, which gave rise to the problem of his relationship with the Croats. In
Hrvatski Tjednik (The Croatian Weekly), No. 32, November 26, 1971 (newspaper
suppressed by Tito — Translator's Note), I published a review of
Ćosić's book, entitled "Power and Fear."
At that time, this book represented a classic
provocation to democratic development in Croatia. Its author was nothing more
than a Serbian-communist, a writer about the mythical Serbian struggle, about
partisans, during the Second World War. No, this was a book by a different
Ćosić.
This new Ćosić returned not only to Vuk
(Karadžić, a self-taught Serbian from the last century, who, with a
primitive megalomaniacal spirit, proclaimed all peoples, especially their
folklore and folk songs, as Serbs, and whose blatant falsification served as
information for the public opinion of the time. — Translator's note) and to Dositeo
(another Serbian writer of that era with a similar Great Serbian megalomaniacal
mentality. — Translator's note), but also, and above all, to Nikolai Pašić
(the president of the Serbian Radical Party and one of the main Serbian
political figures responsible for the catastrophic political development of
Yugoslavia, created in 1918 through fraud, terror, and the introduction of a
Great Serbian regime. — Translator's note), to a victorious Serbia, to a Serbia
"with a mission".
Writing about this, I mentioned that it was more
than characteristic of the time when Ćosić began writing his last
and, let's be frank, quite unusual texts on political engagement, all bound
together in a single book. Its main theme is a defense of Serbian integrity
after Ranković. (It is worth mentioning today that it was Ćosić
who wrote a book about Goli Otok under a pseudonym during Ranković's time
in power).
Ćosić's motives are clear and we can
state them as follows: He was content with postwar Yugoslavia up to that point,
which marked the limit of the primary dominance of the Yugoslav idea in his
dictatorial philosophy of power; and when we say Yugoslav idea, it is more than
normal to think of the Serbian idea and Greater Serbia as the basic energy and
main profit derived from this kind of Yugoslav idea.
With Ranković's disappearance opening a new,
necessary, and undoubtedly more democratic horizon for life, Ćosić
was deeply concerned. From that moment on, he suddenly began to speak and write
about the "Ustaša genocide" and about the Serbian people, who
"committed themselves without speculation or measure to the future."
He then concluded that the "Declaration on the Denomination and Status of
the Croatian Literary Language" is something "that makes it easy to
identify Unitarianism (a part of the Orthodox within Croatia that centuries ago
accepted union with Catholicism and identified nationally with the Croatian
national majority. — Translator's note) with the old Gran Croatian nationalism,
which, in my opinion, has recently gone on a clear offensive."
Ćosić's diagnosis is evidently simple: we
Serbs are honest people who fight honestly "without speculation or
restraint," but here are these Croats, responsible for the
"genocide" and who now again provoke disorder, destroy, and
"distort the Yugoslav ideal." The fact that the
Croats—unfortunately—created and, with insistent idealism, nurtured this ideal,
as well as the circumstance that Great Serbian power, both in monarchical
Yugoslavia and in post-war Yugoslavia, turned it into a slaughterhouse for
Croats, is something Ćosić either doesn't want to see or can't see,
and this is a touchstone for his conscience. Ćosić emphasizes, to the
point of nausea, his own opinion that there is "a symmetrical system of
nationalism, both Serbian and Croatian."
But at the same time, according to him, this
symmetry shouldn't exist, because Serbian nationalism is a state-creating
force, as generals in Belgrade's military academies also reiterate.
Ćosić also fails to see that the "Ustaša" movement emerged as
a pure reaction to the notorious crimes of the Belgrade bourgeoisie and their
king, Alexander... I will reproduce here, by design, an opinion about what was
happening in monarchical Yugoslavia.
Just recently, a series of broadcasts on British
television entitled "The Mighty Continent," subtitled "A Vision
of Europe in the 20th Century," is being shown. The author of these
broadcasts is the English historian John Terraine. Referring to Yugoslavia
between the two world wars, he writes: "It (Yugoslavia) was supposed to be
a federation, but it was really a state cruelly ruled by the Serbs.
No one resisted this policy more than the Croats,
who believed that they, and not the proud Serbs, were the true architects of
Yugoslav independence." In 1928 the world suffered once again the impact
of Balkan violence: a Serbian national deputy in the Yugoslav Parliament pulled
out his revolver, killing Croatian leaders one after another, mortally wounding
two of them and seriously injuring three others, before freely leaving the
Parliament building.
Then the Croats began to talk about how much better
off they were under the Habsburgs' rule..." (The Mighty
Continent, p. 196, British Broadcasting Corporation and Hutchison edition).
There are currently many writings that describe and appreciate the old
Yugoslavia in a similar way. Time and distance from the events have their
effect, and the truth about the absurdity of Yugoslavia is increasingly
emerging into world public opinion. And to better grasp the meaning of these
texts, it must be emphasized that they are being written by men whom we could
hardly consider friends of the Croats.
Quite the
contrary. Terraine, at
the end of his book, makes a serious error by saying that the Croats have not
"forgotten" their quarrels with the Serbs, which indicates that the
author does not understand that we have not the slightest possibility of
forgetting, whatever the issue may be, because the Great Serbian terror and the
Yugoslav prisons constantly remind us where we are and what we must do if we
intend to... "We must still be considered a nation if we wish to
survive..."
The author then continues: "While
Ranković's policy was in effect, guaranteeing Serbia the position and role
of an unchecked ruler, Ćosić was content; when something truly
meaningful began to change, Ćosić wept bitterly, invoking all the
'ideals' for help. And not only them.
Ćosić didn't limit himself to a few
polemical texts. He also wrote a novel—Time of Death—in which he meticulously
clarifies his position. The text was printed in Vienna in an obscure,
serialized newspaper sponsored by a small group of Ranković supporters and
backed by the Yugoslav embassy. Now we can ask Ćosić if he can
imagine what would happen to a Croatian writer if he had published a novel
abroad in a newspaper not recognized by the regime?
Simply put, he wouldn't be able to walk freely through Zagreb as
Ćosić does through Belgrade." Is there anything of the
"system of symmetry" here, Comrade Ćosić? Can he afford to
flatter his people, portraying them as great, bold, and honorable, while his
neighbor has suffered every depravity imaginable? Can Ćosić afford
not to see that the četniks and the Ustaša are two sides of the same coin:
the problem of Balkan terror?
Is it possible that he doesn't know that the number
of victims of četnik terror in Croatia is greater than that of Serbs at
the hands of the Ustaša? He should know that the četniks of Zlatibor began
their massacres in southern Croatia. He can think what he likes about Croatian
Muslims, but the massacre of this population by the četniks has provoked
(once again) reprisals from the Ustaša... All this that we are Writing about Ćosić reminds me of a detail from
Meštrović's memoirs. (The author is referring to the
book by the great Croatian sculptor I. Meštrović: Uspomene na
političke ljude i dogadjaje — Memoirs of Political Men and Events, Buenos
Aires, 1961, published by the Croatian Review — Hrvatska Revija. — Notes by the
translator.)
Meštrović recounts how he was alarmed by Serbs
during a visit to Belgrade, given that they were public figures and
"democrats," because Croats were "killing" Serbs in
Croatia. This refers to the case in which a Serbian gendarme lost his life
during a bloody conflict known as the "Victims of Senj." (In 1937, in fact, during a visit by the Croatian Choir
"Trebević" from Sarajevo to the city.) On June 9th of
that year, in the Croatian town of Senj, Serbian gendarmes opened fire in an
ambush against Croatian youth from Gospić, the capital of the Croatian
province of Lika, killing six boys and a girl, while many others were wounded. (Translator's note). On another tragic occasion, about ten
Croats were killed, the author continues, along with only one Serbian gendarme,
so in Belgrade they reacted as if it were a massacre of Serbs. No one mentioned
the Croats killed so fiercely. Why? Possibly because a Serbian life "is
worth more," since Serbs are permanently and "without limit"
behind the Yugoslav ideal, etc.
Finally, the author reproduces a long section of
Ćosić's text, published in the latest issue of Praxis. We limit
ourselves to reproducing some of Ćosić's ideas concerning the current
situation in communist Yugoslavia.
"In this issue, I do not wish to enumerate
causes known to all and essential. Why, after three decades since the victory
of the revolution, has the social situation of intellectual creation not
changed? Why has the fundamental liberation from the past and from the
traditional inertia of this land not been achieved? Why do we deny ourselves
and the world the hope of a democratic socialism and an alternative to consumer
culture?..."
The abuse of freedom is possible, and it is
happening more and more, but not from the sphere of creation. In the history of
the world, as well as in this country, the greatest abuse of freedom has always
been perpetrated by men of power and political passions... Democratic
socialism, or better yet, a self-managed society, is that society in which the
representatives of power and political privileges are not the sole
representatives of truth, judges of spiritual values, authoritarian
specialists for socialism, those who decree history... The search
for the essential truths of our reality and the recognition of truth have
become a very rare passion in Yugoslav society... Truth is sinking ever deeper
into illegality. Morality is extremely subordinated to political calculation
and material utility. The great virtues of humankind currently rest on library
shelves.
Under nihilism, even those who are creating
something become nihilists out of selfish despair... To be an intellectual in
our conditions and to work for culture and the future currently means to be a
revolutionary; to create in a socialist way, and according to one's own
conscience, means "to create dangerously." Yes, "dangerously"!... I am convinced that the fundamental question for our
land is how to become a society of democratic socialism without plunging into
consumerist Stalinism. To achieve a more successful alternative, I still
believe that a change in the social situation, in the role of the meaning of
culture, is necessary... in the union and organization of all the intellectual
forces of the people and their transformation into the subject of history.
All this so that intelligence does not become a
servant of the bureaucracy and a moral cover-up is not laid for historical
failures, while a small stratum of it remains alone as a
privileged elite amidst the misery and spiritual poverty of the people. For me,
there is no other path. .."
Markus concludes his remarks: "There is no
doubt that this text reveals a disillusioned and bitter man. In this, we can
understand Ćosić, but only until he starts again breaking his cane
over our heads, claiming that everything has failed because of the Croats, as
if we were the cause of that bloody Balkan abyss, as if we were not the first
to react against that abyss, unfortunately, also with the same means."
But where Ćosić stubbornly and unfairly remains a continuator
of the politics of the bloody Balkan abyss is in his condemnation of the Croatian
attempt to gain a little more freedom, an attempt known as the "Croatian
Spring." Ćosić proceeds cautiously on this point, but for those
familiar with the matter, it is quite clear. In short, he "betrayed"
himself. He has thus written "consumer socialism."
These two words of Ćosić refer directly to the "economic
reform" of Savka (Dabčević-Kučar, former president of the
Communist League of Croatia, dismissed by Tito in 1972—Translator's note), of
Tripalo, and of his "spring." It is difficult to believe that
Ćosić is unaware of the truth, so clear and generally acknowledged:
that "economic reform," not only in Yugoslavia but throughout Europe,
was the path to political freedoms.
It was condemned only by dark, police-like figures like Ranković.
Praxis, a mercenary newspaper, also condemned it. It has joined, I repeat, the
Balkan and criminal abyss. Ćosić will not succeed in deceiving anyone
by calling the "springtime" period "consumer Stalinism." There
was no Stalinism then.
On the contrary, it was disappearing, especially in Croatia, destroyed
by Croatian democratic forces. Thus, Croatia reappeared before the world with
its true face. And only this rebirth of Croatia was the reason Ćosić
proclaimed that period as "consumer Stalinism." At that time when
Stalinism truly rode like the apocalyptic horseman between the Yugoslav
meridians and parallels, Ćosić remained silent, mute."
Cause of the revolts in Kosovo
A Permanent Element of Yugoslavia's Insecurity
T. R.
The Russo-Turkish Peace Agreement in San Stefano (1878)
and the London Conference (1913) on the end of the Balkan Wars awarded
significant Albanian territories to Serbia and Montenegro, especially Kosovo
and Metohija. Simultaneously, in 1912, the independent state of Albania was
established, and naturally, from then until now, one and a half million
Albanians in Yugoslavia have aspired to rejoin their homeland.
This yearning is particularly strong in Kosovo, now
an autonomous socialist province within Serbia, where the Albanian population
exceeds one million, representing more than 75% of the total population.
Following the fall of Ranković in 1966,
notorious for his brutality against Albanians, violent revolts erupted in
Kosovo, particularly in late 1968, on the day of the Albanian national hero,
George Kaspriota (Skenderbeg), when young Albanians, in bloody clashes with the
police, demanded the status of a federal republic and even the incorporation of
Kosovo and Metohija into Albania. A few days later, in an ad hoc interview
published in the Belgrade newspaper Politika, Tito attempted to downplay this
rebellion, stating that "he would not allow various hostile elements to
impede the normal internal development of Kosovo."
A year earlier, the Red Marshal visited Kosmet,
seeking to convince the Albanians that the declaration on the status of the
Croatian literary language was an attack on "brotherhood and
unity"... Since then, disturbances in Kosovo have been periodic, and
lately they have erupted more violently, especially at the end of last year
during the Islamic religious holidays.
On par with Bangladesh
In October 1968, a month before the bloody
demonstrations, the Albanian representative in Kosovo, Ismail Bajra, warned
Tito about the explosive situation among the Albanian population due to their
dire economic circumstances and the abuse of loans.
As was his custom, Tito avoided giving a proper
response and inquired about "partisan organizations in rural areas,"
among other topics, without addressing or changing anything about the essential
problems. Bajra was later replaced by Veli Deva, a supporter of a Yugoslav
solution to the Albanian problem, and more recently, this role was assumed by
Mahmut Bakal, Deva's successor as president of the Kosovo Communist League's
Provincial Committee.
Party leaders come and go, but the economic
situation of Kosovo Albanians does not improve. With a per capita income of
$250, Kosovo Albanians have a standard of living up to six times lower than
that of Slovenes, nearly five times lower than that of Croats, and almost two
and a half times lower than that of their Montenegrin neighbors.
The situation is similar in the cultural and
economic spheres, with only one hospital for every 160,000 inhabitants of
Kosovo, meaning three beds per 1,000 inhabitants. Of Kosovo's 1,400 localities
(villages), only 90 have running water; 50% lack electricity; 6% of the urban
population lacks sewage systems; illiteracy reaches 30% among adults, and so
on.
Due to the high population growth rate—up to 3%
annually—and Belgrade's colonial economic policies in Kosovo, the participation
of the working-age population in the total workforce does not even reach 30%.
The concept of economic and social development in Kosovo after the war was
colonialist in nature and based on mineral exploitation.
These operations used a great deal of capital but
little labor, resulting in only about 70,000 Albanians being employed in the
state sector of the economy today. A similar number had to emigrate
to Western Europe in search of work, while more than 100,000 families live off
agriculture, on plots of land ranging from 1 to 4 hectares, making Kosovo the
only region in Yugoslavia where the rural population is increasing.
Kosovo and the Congresses of the League of
Communists of Yugoslavia
The 9th Communist Congress, held in March 1969,
just a few months after the bloody uprisings in Kosovo, recommended
"devoting special attention to the more rapid development of the
autonomous province of Kosovo." It is known that the Albanian problem was
discussed at the 8th Meeting of the Presidium of the League of Communists of
Yugoslavia in 1970 and at the 10th Congress the following year.
The result of the "positions" and
decisions taken was the so-called medium-term plan for Kosovo (1970-1975),
according to which "faster development" should be encouraged. This
plan, like all previous ones, was never implemented, as was stated during the
Trogir deliberations on the problems of Kosovo.
The Trogir deliberations made it clear that for
decades the Fund for Underdeveloped Regions, to which the Croats and Slovenes
had contributed considerable sums of money, had yielded no results whatsoever
regarding Kosovo, and that this policy needed to be changed. Even in 1970,
Arsian Fazlija, then president of the Kosovo Socialist Working People's League,
declared that the Fund for Underdeveloped Regions was inadequate, since Serbia
already had access to such a fund under its own constitution and the
Constitution of Yugoslavia.
After the Croatian Spring (in 1971), Fazlija
disappeared, but the problems continued. Therefore, it was proposed in Trogir
that aid to Kosovo be channeled to companies, exempting them from paying taxes
if they invested more than 50% of their value in any establishment there.
Of course, this proposal was only a partial
solution, since Croatian and Slovenian companies would logically have to assume
all the risks of this operation in direct collaboration with Kosovo's companies
and authorities, which is impossible without prior recognition of Kosovo's
sovereignty, even if this is within the framework of the current republics that
make up federal Yugoslavia. Belgrade refuses to recognize Kosovo's sovereignty.
Moreover, any further aid to Kosovo requires an inter-republican agreement.
Consequently, the current Republic of Croatia could demand that Kosovo's
distinct statehood be guaranteed. But who in Zagreb or Ljubljana has the
political courage to raise this issue, even within the framework of federal
Yugoslavia?
Kosovo is not Montenegro.
In the guidelines of Yugoslavia's common long-term development
policy up to 1985, there is frequent mention of "the need for accelerated
development of underdeveloped regions," and especially Kosovo, but in
fact, resources are being secured for other regions. areas.
It is already known that until 1985 Montenegro
would invest 50 billion current dinars in its economy; of this sum, 60% would
be contributed by "other republics" and foreign loans. Meanwhile,
regarding Kosovo, "deliberations continue": a few hundred million
dinars are planned from funds that do not yet exist. The "Kosovo"
hydroelectric plant incurs a loss of more than 300 million dinars per year,
even though the richest coal deposits in Yugoslavia are located there.
The thirty years of communist Yugoslavia, like the
twenty years of the previous monarchy, demonstrate that this state formation is
incapable of ensuring the normal development of the Albanian ethnic minority or
other peoples. Consequently, the current conflict between Albanians and Serbs
in Kosovo will deepen even further and become more frequent.
All the more so since Albania enjoys the support of
China, geographically distant but politically and diplomatically very active in
the Mediterranean and even in the Balkans. The first phase of Albanian
liberation could be that of a "federal republic" within Yugoslavia,
followed by its annexation to the mother country. Such a process would favor
Croatia's interests, as it would accelerate the "Scandinaviation" of
Yugoslavia and thus the creation of a modern Croatian state.
Translated by bk.
Roko
Matjašić, painter in Chile
Milan Ivelić *
His Life:
In the small village of Pučišće, on the
island of Brač, which faces the historic and ancient city of Split, Roko
Matjašić was born at the dawn of the century.
Like most of the inhabitants of this Adriatic
island, he was the son of a farming family. The island, a vast quarry, provided
and continues to provide Roko's village with stones, which were once shaped by
hand and are now, with the help of machines, into ornamental pieces,
gravestones, and building materials. It was here, alongside the rough
stonemasons, that he developed his budding artistic talent, drawing and carving
the rock with whimsical imagination. Before long, even the walls of his family
home were not spared his precocious creativity, as he drew crosses, figures of
saints, and a wide variety of other shapes with charcoal. His time in primary
school provided him with yet another opportunity to continue drawing.
The limited horizons offered by his native island
spurred him to travel to the mainland. There, he encountered historical works
of art for the first time in the ancient Greek colony of Trauguir, a city with
a wealth of artistic artifacts.
While these pursuits unfolded, he was caught up in
the First World War. Despite his youth, he was drafted into the army and served
on the Italian front. Military actions took him as far as Udine. The end of the
Great War left the country in dire straits: the Austro-Hungarian Empire had
collapsed, the territory of Yugoslavia was occupied by Italian troops, and
economic hardship was severe. His island offered no prospects, ravaged,
moreover, by a terrible plague that decimated the vineyards, one of its main
resources, bringing ruin and misery to many homes.
Faced with such a bleak situation, Marko
Matjašić decided to leave his homeland; like him, many of his compatriots
made a similar decision. The island of Brač witnesses the exodus of its
young people who, faced with a bleak future, emigrate in search of new
horizons: America is their north, and it is to this continent that the vast
majority will arrive. They establish homes, start families, and contribute
their labor to the development of the countries that have welcomed them. Today,
their descendants look back with pride on the legacy of their parents.
In 1919, Roko arrived in Bolivia; for four years he
worked in the tin mines of Cataví and Siglo XX; in his free time, he studied
drawing and painting by correspondence. But, as his restlessness and yearning
to explore new lands were already deeply rooted within him, he embarked on a
journey to Chile; by the end of 1924, he was in Santiago, its capital.
At this stage of his life, his artistic vocation
called to him with unwavering conviction: he enrolled as a student at the
School of Fine Arts and, to support himself, found work as a night watchman and
caretaker at Santa Lucia Hill. For two years, he studied tirelessly with
masters Ricardo Richon-Brunet, Exequiel Plaza, and Juan Francisco González,
earning remarkable grades. He won the admiration and friendship of the latter,
a bond that would only deepen in the years to come. He was the favorite pupil
of this great master and distinguished Chilean painter.
Having graduated and demonstrated his talent (2nd
prize at the Official Salon of 1988; 1st Prize at the Talca Salon, the same
year), he traveled to Valparaíso. The port and the ocean attracted him,
awakening memories of the Adriatic, his island world, and his youthful dreams;
however, he did not settle there permanently. His thirst for knowledge led him
to explore new countries. In 1932, he was in Europe, spending a year between
Spain and France. He justified his desire to travel by recalling Rodó's advice:
"Anyone with even a shred of artistry should travel to enrich their
expressive abilities." "To travel by any means, even on foot."
In Europe, he visited museums and copied masterpieces of universal painting to
refine his drawing and deepen his experience in the craft. It was academic
work, the craftsmanship, that he solidly perfected
through his contact with the works of established masters. His talent did not
go unnoticed in artistic circles: he was invited to exhibit his work in Paris
at the Salon d'Automne, an honor rarely bestowed upon relatively unknown
artists. Upon returning to Chile, he began a vast body of work, exhibiting it
regularly. He received numerous awards, critical acclaim, and public applause.
The inveterate traveler tirelessly explored the
country, especially the southern region as far as Magallanes, showing a
particular fondness for the Valdivia region, whose natural beauty deeply moved
him. In 1936, he was in Colombia, hired as Director and Professor of the School
of Fine Arts, which he himself had organized. He visited Cali, Medellín, and
Manizales. His artistic talents and teaching skills impressed him. His stay was
extended, and he took advantage of the time to visit other Latin American
countries, immersing himself in their vibrant atmosphere, the customs of their
people, and the tropical exuberance of their countryside. Newspaper clippings
with laudatory comments about Romo's artistic and teaching work reached his
brother Marko, who lived in Santiago.
In 1945, he returned to Chile once again,
continuing his vocation as a painter, because, as he once said, "the day I
don't paint, I suffer terrible remorse." He exhibited the works he had
created in Colombia in Santiago and the provinces with great success, without
neglecting the creation of new pieces. His affection for his adopted country
led him to apply for Chilean citizenship, which was granted by Supreme Decree
of the Government on June 29, 1947.
In 1948, he was hired as a professor at the Academy
of Painting and Drawing in Valparaíso, thus extending the teaching experience
he had gained in Colombia.
One day, Very early in the morning, Roko
Matjašić set off for the beaches of Viña del Mar, as he did every day. He
carried his box of paints and some cardboard under his arm to capture the
beauty of the sea. It was a journey of no return; he mysteriously disappeared,
and his body was never found. The vastness of the sea, which he loved so much,
became his tomb. It was November 11, 1949.}
His work:
Roko Matjašić occupies a place of honor in the
history of Chilean painting. He was an artist who knew how to assimilate the
new world presented to his artistic perception, freed from visual or aesthetic
prejudices.
He was fortunate to arrive in Chile at a
significant moment in the evolution of his painting: conservative, rigidly
academic, almost naturalistic painting was beginning to fade. The impact of his
teacher Juan Francisco González's work and the audacious plasticity of the
Montparnasse group, formed by Chilean painters who had assimilated avant-garde
trends in Europe, were influences that the budding painter quickly and
intuitively absorbed. It was no coincidence that he chose Juan Francisco
González as his preferred teacher.
From him he learned an unyielding stance against
any prejudice, and his phrase is suggestive in this regard: "I have
resisted everything that could be a constraint on my painting and in my
life." For this same reason, he always spoke ironically of his teacher
Richon-Brunet, who demanded an academic rigor that was far from being shared by
this gifted student.
There is an interesting and revealing coincidence
of thought and attitude toward art between González and Roko Matjašić. In
a letter sent to him before his disciple traveled to Europe, the former advised
him: "I wish you not to waste your time making copies in the Louvre or
elsewhere, but to see as much as you can: museums, exhibitions, and everything
worth seeing; seeing is enriching. Likewise, immerse yourself in the refined
and original aspects of French culture. Study everything it represents. Be very
careful with the influences of schools: be independent until death. And that's it—live painting. Make many sketches every night
at the Grande Chaumière or any free academy..."
Roko Matjašić was always open to avant-garde
movements, not to imitate them, but to adapt their techniques to the extent
required by his own artistic explorations. Hence, he fully understood the
meaning of modern movements, without falling into condemnatory judgments born
of aesthetic dogmatism: "The Impressionists brought us light, the Cubists
construction. The former had their intoxication of color; the latter their
intellectual affinity bordering on pure algebraic speculation. What matters is
the artist's own expression, which makes use of the techniques contributed by
the various movements. It's like scorning typing in favor of writing with a
quill pen. Absurd! Typing is more convenient and faster."
Following his artistic trajectory, one can
appreciate a keen perception of the sensory qualities of the American
atmosphere, placing his refined vision in harmony with the world he was
beginning to discover: "The landscape of America," he once said,
"is richer in forms, nuances, and vigor than the European one."
Referring to Bolivia on another occasion, he expressed: "Everything in
this land is heat."
Indeed, his palette vibrated with the luminous chromatism of the
American air; in this sense, his work is linked to the plein air luminism of
the French at the end of the 19th century. Intimately connected to the sensory
enjoyment that nature produces in him, his drawing is free, mobile, changeable,
and saturated with color. He does not shy away from the challenge that nature
presents him with in its multicolored forms, its changing tones, and the
instability of its colors due to the effects of light: his palette profusely
mixes colors, and with agile and loose brushstrokes, he leaves his imprint on
the canvas. He has no inhibitions about saturating the canvas with color,
offering veritable plastic topographies; he is not intimidated by academic
tradition, which demands a refined drawing style that perfectly defines
contours and does not betray the subject with "imaginative excesses."
For Roko, on the contrary, line and color are his language, and he makes them
"speak" according to his design; thus, the line will be either inert
or firm, the stroke soft or hard; the color does not conform to the demands of
the model, but rather to the impulses that arise from its creator. His works
invite approach or distance, because his forms dissolve or recompose themselves
depending on the viewpoint and the distance the spectator takes from the
canvas.
His versatility allowed him to explore diverse techniques: he paints in
oil, fresco, and watercolor. He also dabbled in large-scale mural painting,
leaving behind some important works in Colombia. In his mural compositions, he
demonstrated his profound understanding of the American soul, and his work
"Water Carriers" is a human recreation of the native continent; just
as his "Andean Soul" is both suggestive and revealing of the unique
characteristics emanating from the American people.
Roko Matjasić, within the context of Chilean painting, is at the
forefront of his time; he knew how to adapt the most innovative currents to his
original mode of expression. He was not swayed by tradition, but rather his
innate intuition allowed him to recognize and distinguish between what was a
mere reiteration of outdated molds and conceptions and what was
an authentic and legitimate revitalizing proposition. And if he did not
align with the purely avant-garde movement in Europe, it was simply because
they did not correspond to his worldview and his personal mode of artistic
expression.
French opinions
on the work of a Croatian communist
Stanko Lasić: Intellectuals and Ideological
Coercion — Intellectuals and Ideological Coercion. Deniël,
Les lettres nouvelles. The work's original Croatian title is
"Sukobi na literarnoj ljevici" (Conflicts in the Literary Left). The
French translation is by Mrs. J. Matillon, Lasić's wife, who is currently
a lecturer in Croatian and Serbian at the Sorbonne.
(Lasić is Croatian by birth. — Translator's
note.)
This book should not be overlooked. Certainly,
there is nothing immediately appealing about it: it deals with the
controversies that shook the communist and progressive intelligentsia of
Yugoslavia between 1928 and 1952, and the author made little effort to make it
engaging; the "theological" disputes he recounts seem as distant and
unreal as those of Scholasticism; This distancing effect is surprising and confirms
that we, in the 1950s, entered a new era. Nevertheless, this is a passionate
document on an essential and still poorly explained problem, one that likely
evokes the follies and grandeur of post-World War I Europe: the return to the
Middle Ages, keenly felt by Berdjaev, with its dogmatic imposition, the
inquisition of heresies, and the endless debates over concepts, which were
evidently not concerned with truth but with the violence of a power that
defines truth.
S. Lasić sets out to examine "the
Stalinist theology of the Yugoslav Communist Party," but is it really
"theology"? We should examine and explain the word. Theology is not
synonymous with the "obstinate spirit of assertion" that indeed
characterized the debates of that era among various communist tendencies. This
assertion is all the more vehement because its object does not exist; it is not
in that realm. This is precisely what Lasić understands by theology:
"speaking about that which is there without being."
Art and revolution are two
"transcendences" that must be reconciled at all costs. But why this
demanding will to achieve synthesis? What kind of relationship do these
theoretical questions have with concrete issues? While this book is passionate,
it doesn't give us the answer. But if we did, we would undoubtedly understand
the profound truth of the era, the very essence of totalitarianism.
The author implies that it cannot be otherwise,
that the aesthetic politics of communist parties cannot be different from what
it was: the enlistment of artists and writers in the service of a political
strategy. But why? Above all, because these parties
had to conform to Stalinism in order not to break with the Soviet Union,
without which they would have been handed over to
fascism without resources. The total mobilization exerted absolute pressure,
and the Manichean spirit reflected the fascism-antifascism dichotomy. Is this
Lasić's opinion? Given this, the question is turned on its head: what
produced this inexorable dichotomy? Nazism, certainly.
But didn't Nazism itself thrive on this very ground? This is the central
problem that was never addressed, despite numerous books dedicated to
totalitarianism.
Yugoslavia offered a privileged field for this
study for three reasons: the intelligentsia there played an exceptional role;
Surrealism propelled a particularly vital branch; and, finally, the great
Croatian writer Krleža, through the eminence of his great talent, managed to
balance the Party's fanaticism and keep the space for discussion open at all
costs. One can imagine, in this example, what role d'Aragon would have played
in France had he possessed the courage.
It is impossible to summarize the vicissitudes of
the discussion, all the figures of the realism-dialectics-creation combination
that dance a ponderous theoretical ballet.
Below are the demands of a strategy, the war being
prepared. Above, this great, this insoluble problem that Sartre will take up
again in diverse and contradictory ways: how can the artist, the writer, avoid
betraying the struggle of the oppressed? This is impossible, Lasić finally
answers in a beautiful conclusion, because art not only foresees class
alienation, a concrete situation, but also "the constant tragedy of man...
his fundamental alienation from existence... Art dissolves and abolishes all
pragmatism, including revolutionary pragmatism and, even more so, revolutionary
theology."
Political history has destroyed what it had built.
The Yugoslav intelligentsia, whether willingly or not, united with Stalinist
theology through the anti-fascist struggle, found itself, through the break
with Stalin, once again, perhaps of its own volition, freed from this
"absolutist consciousness," which burns for creation but liberates
from the pressing question:
"Is salvation possible?" Liberation? Certainly, Tito does not prescribe legal norms
regarding art. In Yugoslavia, one can paint whatever one wants and read almost
anything one wants. But the bleeding political discourse hovers over a country
where consumerism stifles poetry. The Communist Party, like the Church,
demonstrates how difficult it is to escape dogmatism and reconstruct the
universal that premature syntheses have failed to consider.
(In Esprit, October 1974, signed by Jean-Marie
Domenach. Translated by F N)
Art and Revolution
(The
impossibility of their reconciliation within the framework of Marxist doctrine. — SC Editorial Staff.) The Quinzaine littéraire,
Paris, from June 1 to 15, 1974, also published the following article by Maurice
Nadeau on the aforementioned book by S. Lasić, which we reproduce here in
Spanish:
"You will forgive me for the liberty I take in
speaking here about a work published by 'Lettres Nouvelles.' It deals with a
subject I am particularly passionate about, a subject rich in observations,
continued reflections, and fundamental questions. While I don't feel capable of
recounting every 'moment' of such agile thought, a reflection that leaves
nothing in the shadows, I can at least assure you that its author provides a
decisive answer to the questions raised here by a number of left-wing
intellectuals.
It concerns the relationship of these intellectuals
with Marxism as it is practiced in communist parties, whether they are in
opposition (legal or clandestine) or in power. With the aim of eliminating
'liberal' charlatanism and excluding from our field of interest those who
consider the problem already solved, we point out that the writers discussed in
this work are those who have accepted the prospect of a necessary transition to
socialism and are part of the masses who hope to bring it about." They do
not see themselves as separate beings, and they do not demand special status
for themselves. They even consider themselves scandalously privileged. How is
it that there are problems in their relations with the communist parties, and
for what reasons?
"The answer would not be of a moral or
metaphysical order. At least not initially. If one
wishes to uncover them, there is no other recourse than a precise and
documented study of these relations in time and space, and for that purpose, of
well-defined cases with the components of the problem clearly determined. Then
all the conditions have a chance of being met so that the particular study,
circumscribed to the narrowest field, authorizes conclusions of a general nature."
"A Croatian writer, affiliated until recently
with the Communist League (the party), dedicated himself to this study. He
refers to 25 years of history: from 1928 to 1952, that
is, to a Yugoslavia where the Communist Party experienced a difficult existence
and to a socialist federal republic where Tito's party held all the
power." This is solely about the issue of left-wing writers, communists
dependent on the party, both before and after the war.
"While some of them, meanwhile, perished in
the ranks of the partisans (Tito's guerrillas) or in the camps where they were
murdered by the Ustaša (we ask Lasić and Mr. Maurice Nadeau, why don't
they also mention those killed by the Serbian četniks—for example, Goran
Kovaćić!—placing the blame only on the Ustaša who had to fight for
the independence of their homeland against the communist and Serbian minority
in their own country?), their most eminent representatives—Marko Ristić,
Mirosiav Krleža, Milovan Djilas—(faced) under Tito with the same pre-war problems,
fought in the same positions, wielded the same weapons, with the only
difference, evidently of stature, being that some had the tacit or express
approval of the Power and others, even being in full agreement with the regime,
had to hide behind not to be seen as political opponents, as well as to avoid
any discussion about a point —also literary— that could attract the attention
of an entire ideological orientation.
What must be pointed out, despite everything, is
that the discussion among writers continued almost freely, and while socialist
Yugoslavia had its own small-time Zhdanovs, never, until the Croatian conflict
two years ago, did the government use physical coercion against intellectuals
who did not publicly question it (which is not the case with Mikhalov or, more
recently, Djilas, which is also regrettable because they cannot express
themselves freely). Nothing comparable, then, for Yugoslavia with what has happened
and continues to happen in the Soviet Union and the other people's democracies.
(However, there are authoritative voices that maintain that in present-day
Yugoslavia writers are experiencing worse times than Russian writers. A whole
series of Croatian writers severely condemned and cruelly treated, and the new
condemnation of Mikhalov, refute Messrs. Lasić and Maurice Nadeau. See note in this issue of S.C., p. 75 — Translator's note).
Stanko Lasić points out, first and foremost,
that the Yugoslav "literary left" formed a unified whole: "They
were all obsessed with the salvation... of Man. They longed to discover and
live with meaning... Among them there were neither cynics nor functionaries...
They belonged to that revolutionary generation that could not overlook a
universal synthesis..." Thus, the question is posed in almost pure terms:
could this "obsession with salvation" be realized in the synthesis
toward which they all aspired, and which for left-wing writers could be none
other than the synthesis of art and revolution? For some, in fact, who rejected
aestheticism, it was a matter of transforming the "potential
universality" of art into a "de facto universality," which
encompasses authentic political and social relations. For others, revolution is
inconceivable without the total transformation of being, with which art, in its
practice and its outcome, is associated. This synthesis, no one before or after
the war, was able to achieve. It constitutes, nevertheless, a horizon for
everyone, enduring as "a demand, as a will, or as an object of
study." Despite the doubts expressed by some, such as Ristić and
Krleža, regarding the possibility of its realization, the literary left as a
whole starts from this a priori premise: the revolution can only be total, that
is, it must encompass all human manifestations and all fields, or, as was said
at that time, transform the world and change life.
"Indeed, very soon, some sided with art,
others with the revolution, each dedicating themselves, on their own, to attempts
at annexation. Not out of taste, temperament, or philosophical position, but
through the practice of discussions, manifestos, congresses, and the adoption
of positions that pitted different conceptions of artistic creation against
each other, while, on the other side, the course of the revolution in the
Soviet Union and the 'Bolshevization' of the communist parties raised concrete
questions."
In the ebb and flow of events, the "defenders
of art" at least have the security of solid positions, not subject to
fluctuations. Their adversaries, Djilas and Kardelj, who advocated a
"social literature"—that is, a "neorealism" that would
become a "socialist realism"—attempt to dissuade men, certainly
writers and artists, who would identify as communists. The controversy dragged
on, but the weapons are no longer the same for those who maintain that
"art carries out the revolution" and for those who speak in the name
of this revolution, in the name of History, which they claim to embody.
Then comes the moment, under the pretext of
defining the function of the artist and of art and the nature of their work,
when cutting terms appear, such as "revisionism,"
"subjectivism," and, worst of all, "Trotskyism."
Ristić, for whom poetry is, by its very nature, revolutionary and
subversive, was labeled a champion of an art "bourgeois in its worst form
of decadence": surrealism. While Krleža continues to be considered the
greatest living Yugoslav writer, he is nevertheless advised to learn some
lessons from Marxism.
Opposed to his "retrograde" conceptions
is an art "more total, more conscious, more passionate, which carries
within it elements of a more beautiful, truer, more
humane future": the art of the Party. Yesterday's "revisionists"
will soon become mere "reactionaries," followers of a
"degenerate literature" who work to ideologically disarm "the
working class." These expressions are direct translations from Russian and
mark the triumph of "socialist realism" between 1945 and 1952.
Tito's Intervention
"Ristić, Krleža, scientific researchers
like Richtman, essayists like Bogdanov, did not remain silent. They were not
content with simply defending a 'subversive' art and unfettered exploration:
around the 1940s, they attacked the narrowly propagandistic aspect of Party
art, the disguise that subjugates a complex and concrete reality, the chain it
imposes through its sole orientation towards 'freedom of movement and
research.' It was at this point that Tito himself felt compelled to intervene.
He was careful not to name his friend Krleža, but condemned his collaborators.
Krleža chose to remain silent, to let the vagueness pass."
"Revenge was exacted at the Congress of the
Union of Writers in Ljubljana (Slovenian capital) in October 1952, which marked
the end of "socialist realism," while Stalin, who after a long time
saw Tito slip from his grasp, was fading away. Krleža
had the courage to say, without the walls breaking down, that art subordinated
to revolutionary practice is no more useful than art subordinated to its own
ends. From that moment on, the controversy returned to its source: how to
achieve the famous synthesis? Twenty-five years of discussions, confrontations,
precautions, exclusions, and formal condemnations from one side or the other
had passed. And it cannot be said that they were spent in vain.
"They do, in effect, allow S. Lasić to
reflect on this past, to question it and to question himself.
Is synthesis possible? Is it even desirable? Are artistic activity and
revolutionary practice compatible? There is an even more serious question: 'Is
salvation found in the revolution?'"
"The theorist who replaces the historian here
rejects the possibility of operating in the abstract. He starts from
experience, from lived experience, and what survival has taught him is that both
the theorist and the historian had lost sight of the essential: the role and
function of the intellectual in existing societies. Aware of his privileges and
'guilty' of them in his own eyes, the intellectual rejects the bourgeois world
and affirms the revolutionary values of the exploited class.
If these values become 'institutionalized' (by a
party or a regime), he falls into another 'alienation': one that leads him,
even without apparent constraint, to adopt a different way of thinking, to make
the thinking of another his own. If he wants to be at peace with himself, he is
led to exchange his 'bad conscience' for an 'absolutizing conscience': to make
art, revolution, or their impossible synthesis an absolute, without thereby
feeling any less faithful to art or to revolution.
Thus he acquires what Stanko Lasić calls it
"theological consciousness," the "universally widespread
intellectual disease of socialism," which resides in the rejection of all
questions, of raising any questions at all. "The ideal of the tranquil
man... A man of very serious bad faith, a lucid imposter, perfectly aware of
living outside of salvation, in contingencies and absurdity, yet determined to
act as if he were saved... this kind of man embodies, before our very eyes, the
most complete alienation, the worst form of intellectual betrayal.
"If thought is a permanent questioning, it
must also question itself, ask, above communist parties and revolutionary
practice, even Marxism itself, to reject the imposition of a doctrine that would
have answers for everything, that would be an absolute. If this is the
philosophy of alienated man or 'the history of class man,' this task should
suffice, even though it has nothing to do with the dialectic of nature, which
moves according to other laws and falls, on the plane of knowledge, under other
jurisdictions." In the sciences, there is no such thing as "Marxist
thought" and "bourgeois thought," but rather "exact"
or inexact thought. This is the field of analytical reason. On the other hand,
the human being who apprehends himself from within as "totalization in
progress" reveals his dialectical reason. One cannot treat in the same way
an object "whose law is externality" and a consciousness that
experiences its freedom in practice.
By making art and revolution, or their syntheses,
absolutes, Yugoslav writers have constructed entities that have no place in any
artistic consciousness, because the latter experiences its relationships
"as a tragic relationship" where the two appear, but in a contradictory
way. According to the choice, it can only be a matter of "betrayal":
whether of art or of revolution. "The artistic consciousness can only
lucidly acknowledge its betrayal and seek solutions knowing that none
exist." Its fate is anguish, but this anguish is the sign of its freedom.
"Passing through thousands of iterations of a
line of thought that we regret having schematized, the Sartrean accents must be
readily recognized. Interestingly, these accents are less borrowed from the
author of the Critique of Dialectical Reason than prompted by the history of
the very relationships that Stanko Lasić describes and analyzes,
continually providing the pertinent explanations. History and theory
intertwine, ultimately resulting in the absence of the answer that is the true
answer: the one that clarifies the fate of the disinherited man, who has no
right to speak and in whose name artists and revolutionary militants claim to
speak. Once the ground has been cleared and the stage set, we can then address
other questions."
The Search for "Homo Sapiens"
The same French
newspaper, in the aforementioned edition, writes:
"One must
read Stanko Lasić's book several times to appreciate its richness. 'Intellectuals and Ideological Coercion' is truly a work
that we can approach with pleasure from the perspective of a historian or a
philosopher, an activist or a creator.
"The
content may be unwelcome to a French reader: Lasić's arguments were
developed from the climate that existed in Yugoslavia from the 1930s until approximately
1954. Because of its meticulousness, the reader might initially try to put the
book down. But this is a mistake, because Lasić's conclusions concern
every reader who, a quarter of a century after questioning Sartre, persists in
grappling with the problem of literary creation through political
engagement."
"The
content may be unwelcome for a French reader: the theses Lasić puts
forward are relevant to any reader who, a quarter of a century after
questioning Sartre, continues to grapple with the problem of literary creation
through political engagement." "Lasić truly attempts to extract
the meaning of literary creation from 'extremist situations,' starting from a
practice that is developing within a crisis. Indeed, over the past 25 years,
our world has undergone many metamorphoses. But the texts of Krleža,
Ristić, and others concern (strangely) our future.
"'Art is a
struggle between the individual and the structure,' Lasić states. This is
the struggle that makes the artist. 'The individual,' writes Krleža, 'is not
absurd, but the pre-foundation of the human.'
"Truly
human man is not this small, motorized dinosaur we know; we still have to find
Homo sapiens. The same is true for revolution.
"The error
of communist countries, as well as Western ones, probably stems from the fact
that art is not considered (within their movement) as a means of accessing
knowledge.
"The
material difficulties experienced by Eastern countries perfectly explain the
prosaic aspect that communism imposed on art. In 1974, the West, for various
reasons, also stifled artistic wealth and deprived the collective of a useful
perspective. Indeed, all comprehensive research in literature clashes worldwide
with the mystique of work, with a conception that stems from "work."
Our planet is already teetering, as a result of this same "progress,"
between Knowledge and Suicide. It is up to us now to understand "the
ambiguity of artistic experimentation and research."
"Let's not
talk anymore about a guilty conscience (what happens in this world that can
make us nauseous and in which we continue to live). Lasić perceives that
the creator has an obligation to see their creation through to the end. The
timidity of some old wolves disguised as Marxists is a luxury: the luxury of
those who don't come to choose between militancy and creation." (Signed by
Paul Hordequin, translated by fn.
News and commentary
The Argentine reality
Six months ago, in these same pages and under the
same title, we attempted to sketch a picture of the Argentine Republic in its
most salient and general features at that time. The open dialogue between
political, labor, and economic-productive forces, with the armed forces, within
their strictly constitutional limits, offered the country and its people a
promising outlook, despite the inflationary phenomenon and the presence of
violence, which produced almost universal insecurity. We had also expressed our
personal and moderate optimism, all the more moderate the more we wished to see
it positively superseded by an increasingly hopeful and genuinely happy
evolution.
Today—six months later—can we say that nothing has
substantially changed? In this time, a notoriously anti-inflationary Minister
of Economy was replaced by one of the opposite inclination, and a supposedly
"interventionist" Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces was replaced
by one who declares himself firmly "legalistic." The two high-ranking
officials who were replaced, it seems, were unable to change anything.
Inflation continues to rise, as does violence. One
side has been unable to stop and eliminate the essential economic causes, as is
often claimed, of discontent and violence, and the other has been unable to
suppress the outbreak of violence.
Considering this aspect of reality, nothing has
substantially changed in these six months, unless we apply here, in politics,
knowledge and criteria borrowed from the scientific field, namely nuclear
physics. One of the experts in the field states that between a subatomic unit
and millions of the same there is a difference not only in quantity but also in
quality, a substantial difference. Has the increase in inflation and violence
in our country reached the necessary proportions to substantially change the
course of life of the community? We don't think so. But there is another
element that worries us all.
We have heard, both from the opposition (the
radicals) and from a sector of the national government's collaborators, that
dialogue, as the safest method for the normal development of the country and
its democratic institutions, has suffered considerable deterioration, even
being interrupted at times. Herein, it seems to us, lies
the main reason for the apprehension of those who love freedom and want to see
it realized and guaranteed within a pluralistic framework of socio-political
forces.
The cause of this phenomenon would be the
following: While the labor and union sector increasingly insists on the
importance of its voice in the community, the business sector feels its rights,
profits, and consequently, the very spirit of its entrepreneurial spirit are
being diminished, to the detriment of all.
Absenteeism and apathy towards work would
correspond to the flight of profits abroad, converted into dollars, instead of
being invested in the country. Logically, political power, of union and popular
origin, can hardly maintain balance and impartiality in these specific and
conflictive cases, which are not the only ones. Essentially, it is a matter of
determining what corresponds to each of the parties in the national dialogue,
which is not always a strictly academic dialogue or discussion. "Suum cuique tribuere" (to each his own), this old
principle of Roman law changes with the course of time and eras.
"Suum" has become in our time the most important and central issue not
only in the Argentine Republic, but throughout the world.
A cultured and astute observer of modern life,
recently deceased (Daniélou), said, in a socio-political analysis, that there
is no plan, however ideal, that the "devil" does not try to sabotage.
Faced with the threat of a repeat of this almost universal experience in our
Argentine community, there is no greater urgency than to prevent it,
maintaining dialogue and a constant effort to overcome biased criteria and
harmonize the conflicting parties in public life, naturally opposed but not
necessarily enemies.
The sectoral interest must lead to the national
interest, to the common good, which is and must be the ultimate goal of all:
the government, the workers, and the business sector. Daniélou's true "devil"
is the imposition of one sector's interest under the guise of the common good.
From this have sprung, and continue to spring, the causes of most revolutions
throughout history. Despite their regular recurrence, revolutions, as a phenomenon
that sacrifices so many innocents and causes so much suffering, contradict
human rationality and degrade us to a being below this category. Fully aware of
the tragedy caused by violent revolutions, an intelligent community can and
must avoid them at all costs. — The S.C. Editorial Staff
Croatia, a
people whose spirit Tito did not break
By GUILLERMO MARTINEZ MARQUEZ, special
correspondent for "La Prensa"
NEW YORK, 1975. — The struggle of peoples subjugated by communism
extends throughout the world, but it is almost unknown.
Free men are too busy solving their own economic
and social problems and have no time for other people's concerns. This
indifference increases the anguish of those who, driven from the land of their
birth, have scattered across foreign lands and yearn only for the understanding
that might sustain false hopes of return.
The Wandering Croats
The Croats, deprived of their national rights by
Tito's totalitarian government, constitute one of these wandering groups.
“We are close to two million, more than half of
whom live in the United States; in New York alone, we number over fifty
thousand…,” says our colleague Kruno Mashina, editor of the Croatian magazine
Vjesnik (News) and host of a radio program that airs three times a week called
“The Voice of Free Croatia.”
Mashina is a young man, although he has lived in
North America for about ten years and before that, he lived in Paris for about
five years. He had to emigrate from Croatia when his brother John, sentenced to
eleven years in prison, was murdered in jail. All the distraught mother of the
student knew was summarized in a laconic telegram that read: “Your son is
dead.”
Thousands upon thousands of Croatians imprisoned
“There are thousands upon thousands of Croatians
imprisoned by ‘Titoist’ communism,” says Mashina. “Many of
them for years, without just cause; some without trial or prior conviction.
From the outside, it is impossible for us to determine their number.”
The Croatians are tenacious and continue their
struggle tirelessly in defense of their ancient traditions, their culture,
their religion, and their language. In North America, they have organized
themselves into patriotic and artistic associations, meet regularly, and work
and live with their minds fixed on returning to their free homeland. They have
an academy dedicated to preserving the purity of their ancestral language. It
is called "Matica Croata" (Croatian Motherland) and has established
branches in major cities across the country, such as New York, Cleveland,
Chicago, and Los Angeles. They maintain contact with the three groups scattered
throughout Europe and the rest of the world.
Recently, "Le Monde" of Paris reported on the protest made by
the German writer Boel during the PEN Club meeting in Jerusalem regarding the
dramatic situation of political prisoners in Croatia. Just over a month ago,
Amnesty International London named student Dražen Budiša its "prisoner of
the month" and began efforts to secure his release. Budiša had been
sentenced to four years in prison shortly before. News of his imprisonment had
reached several European capitals unexpectedly.
He was one of those sanctioned. Pavle Perovic was the bearer of the
details of the case. Under false accusations, sixteen students had been
sentenced. One of them was Perovic. Because he was the son of a guerrilla
fighter from the Tito era, and later a police chief, he was released. He was
offered the opportunity to go abroad to spy on the activities of the exiles.
This allowed him to leave Yugoslavia. But upon reaching free lands, he informed
his exiled compatriots of what had happened in Croatia.
Remembering
Cardinal Stepinac
The Croatians of New York have a center for their meetings in the heart
of Manhattan. This month they will commemorate the sixth anniversary of its
founding. Beforehand, they will remember the death of Cardinal Stepinac,
sentenced to 16 years in prison and who died on February 16, 1960. The event
will be of extraordinary solemnity. Cardinal Cooke of New York has promised to
attend. Croatian believers and patriots will come from remote regions of North
America.
Several times a year, the exiles in this city organize parades: hundreds
of cars travel for hours through the city streets, with signs alluding to the
inhumane treatment their compatriots receive in Yugoslavia. A crowd of more
than five thousand people gathered in front of the United Nations building last
December to protest against communist slavery.
On "Free Croatia Day," Croats around the world gather to bear
witness to their resolve to continue the struggle until they win the right to
once again be a free and independent state. Since 1971, this day has
commemorated the dramatic events of the so-called "Croatian Spring,"
when, encouraged by the constitutional reform enacted by Tito, they began to
organize and were soon subjected to a situation worse than before.
They will
continue fighting for independence.
"I have
nothing personal to add," Mashina declares at the end of his presentation.
"We will continue the struggle because the freedom and independence of
Croatia is our sole aim."
But Juan Rojnica—an Argentine industrialist, born in Croatia, who
witnessed the conversation with Mashina—provides a revealing detail about the
inhumane actions of the communists: "When the authorities reported the
death of his brother John, the family requested the release of his body, and
the response was that they could not do so because he had been sentenced to
eleven years, and the body had to serve the full sentence."
"Things like that cannot last," Rojnica affirms. "I have
faith in justice. I am optimistic and a believer. In the long run, democracy
and freedom must prevail."
La Prensa,
February 2, 1975.
Repression in Yugoslavia
The End of a Two-Sided Magazine
The French newspaper "Esprit," in
December 1974, wrote about the magazine "Praxis": For ten years now,
this philosophical-sociological journal from Zagreb has been the main target of
criticism from the leaders of the Yugoslav Communist League. The attacks are
more virulent in Belgrade, even though it is published in Zagreb (suppressed,
as is now public knowledge, last February, along with the dismissal of eight
university professors from Belgrade, its main contributors. — Translator's
note), the Croatian capital.
The explanation for this apparent paradox is very
simple: the magazine is considered by everyone to be the Belgrade magazine,
because although its editorial staff is mainly composed of Serbian professors
from Zagreb and some others considered Yugoslav "unitarians," it
counts among its contributors a considerable number of professors from the
University of Belgrade.
Precisely during the last few months, these
Belgrade professors—philosophers and sociologists—along with some of their
students, bravely fought against their expulsion from the University, supported
by petitions and interventions from Western Europe and the USA. These
professors had forged many friendships and academic ties outside of Yugoslavia.
Through the summer seminars in Korčula (the
island of the Republic of Croatia in the Adriatic Sea—Translator's note), which
were organized for many years by "Praxis" in southern Croatia, and
after numerous trips to Western countries, these Serbian academics had acquired
the endearing reputation of being the "freest thinkers" in the
"freest country in the socialist world." Not without reason, because
"Praxis" develops the "liberal Marxist" ideas already
professed in the 1930s by Theodor Adorno and his group: the studies of the
"young Marx" and the bold critique of "existing socialist
reality," including that of Yugoslavia.
There is, however, one aspect of "Yugoslav
socialist reality" that "Praxis" systematically overlooks, and
that is the "national question" in general and in Yugoslavia in
particular. This is probably the main reason why "Praxis" (and its
translations into French, English, and German) was always eligible for
government subsidies. For the same reason, "Praxis" was, for nine
years, the target of criticism from the left within Yugoslavia.
“‘Praxis,’ it was said, was ‘liberal,’ and yet its
editors maintained excellent relations with the Yugoslav Beria, Alexander
Rankovic (the fearsome head of the Yugoslav secret police—UDBA—a Serb,
dismissed in 1966 and currently considered the invisibly pulling all the
strings of the pro-Soviet conspiracy in that country—Translator’s note); and
they considered the era of terror as the period in which Yugoslavia had reached
‘the zenith of its democratic development.’
“‘Praxis’ is always on the front line of the fight
for the interests of the working class, except when it comes to the Croatian
working class and other sub-proletariats of Western Europe and mass
unemployment in the country itself;
"Praxis presses to build a 'socialism' with a
human face, but fiercely combats the 'Zagreb Spring' (the attempt by Croatian
communists to achieve equality between Croatia and Serbia, which culminated in
1970-1971 with a massive strike by Croatian university students, repressed by
the coup d'état carried out by Tito using brutal police and military force. —
Translator's note);
"Praxis constantly defends intellectuals
persecuted for their opinions, but not Croatian intellectuals, under the
pretext that it is an internal Yugoslav matter."
We will not use this argument against
"Praxis." While "Praxis" is generally liberal but
conservative on Yugoslav issues, its publication, as well as the personal and
intellectual safety of its contributors, constitutes a matter of freedom on
which compromise is impossible. The Yugoslav authorities have initiated
multiple legal proceedings against Students and intellectuals, friends of
"Praxis." If they end up with convictions, the friends of
"Praxis" will find themselves in prison alongside the architects of
"socialism of human appearance" in 1970s Croatia, whom they had
"forgotten" to support in the years 1971-1972. (The Serbian
professors, now dismissed, travel freely abroad, can continue their studies, and
receive their full monthly salaries. —Translator's note.)
But the living conditions of the imprisoned
Croatian political prisoners—students, workers, and intellectuals—are currently
deplorable. Most are in Stara Gradiška prison, reserved, according to
regulations, for those who repeatedly violate the rule of law; these
representatives of the Croatian New Left, convicted for the first time, are
relegated to the status of common criminals and deprived of the most basic
rights. Let us limit ourselves to a few concrete examples:
Mr. Sime Djodan, professor of political economy at
the University of Zagreb, former combatant and former Party member, the most
popular member of the intellectual group of the "Croatian Spring,"
sentenced in 1972 to six years for "verbal" and written offenses, is
in danger of death: he is seriously ill (high blood pressure, pulmonary
cavernous lesions, kidney problems, and a broken leg), but nevertheless, he is
forced to carry coal. After his protest ("You want to kill me at all
costs"), he has been "isolated" from the other prisoners.
The solidarity of another prisoner with Djodan
earned him the same "disciplinary measure": isolation; this is José
Ivičević, a university professor in Zagreb and secretary general of
the Croatian cultural association Matica Hrvatska, author of an admirable
statement before the Zagreb Court that "Esprit" published in January
1974 (p. 140). The same statement was published in "Studia Croatica"
No. 48-49 of 1973, pp. '77-78. — (Translator obs.)
Vlado Gotovac,
philosopher and poet, former editor-in-chief of the Croatian Spring's
mouthpiece, Hrvatski Tjednik, suffers from atrophy of his right hand. All
requests for medical attention were denied for four months. His wife, also a
former combatant, was denied the right to bring him medication. Like the other
"political prisoners," he is deprived of the right to read and write,
except for one letter per month. His wife is allowed to see him once a month
for twenty minutes in the presence of a guard. He is also entitled to receive a
three-and-a-half-kilogram package every two months.
The Daily Telegraph of London wrote about this last November: "For
a writer, being deprived of reading and the means to write is worse than being
forced into physical labor. Even Andrei Sinyavsky, a Russian writer currently
safe in France, was allowed to write and take his prison notes out of the
Soviet camp, which have already been published in the West."
When one remembers that Marshal Tito was also a political prisoner in
the 1930s, and that the prison regulations of that
time ("Great Serbian bourgeois monarchy") were such that Tito himself
was able to use his situation to study Marxism and translate works by the
"classics" of Marxism!
There are islands in the archipelago that are not connected. It is up to
us to rebuild a bridge between them and unite in the same protest the
persecuted group of "Praxis" and the lesser-known victims of
repression in Croatia. The "isolated" prisoners of Stara Gradiška and
Lepoglava (another prison in northern Croatia) must not stifle the bold voices
of the Vice-Rector of Student Affairs at the University of Zagreb, Ivan
Zvonimar Chichak, and the Croatian student leader Dražen Budiša, nor those of the many other lesser-known followers of the
practice of a destroyed "spring." Because, according to Yugoslav law
and the common practice of all so-called socialist countries, the category of
"political prisoners" does not exist.
(Trans. F.N.)
(If Z. M.'s article on page 75 is partially inaccessible due to many
elements and specific names from that milieu, this note from "Esprit"
summarizes it very clearly.)
The Croatians reappear
With barely concealed anxiety, some observers are
linking last Saturday's attack on the Yugoslav vice-consul in Lyon, France, to
the imminent 34th anniversary of the Restoration of Croatian Independence, an
event that took place on April 10, 1941, and which pitted then and in posterity
against each other two men with opposing trajectories: university professor
Ante Pavelić and guerrilla leader Josip Broz Tito, who later became the
leader of Yugoslavia.
On Tuesday, a newly formed nationalist group called
"Croatian Resistance" claimed responsibility for the eight shots that
sent Mladen Djogović to the hospital in that old city of weavers and
sailors. The Croatian resistance fighters in exile accused the official of
actually acting as the head of the Yugoslav secret police in his diplomatic
post.
For its part, the powerful and feared nationalist
organization "Ustaš" warned again yesterday that "Croatian patriots
will continue the struggle on all fronts until the freedom of the Motherland is
achieved." This threat is intended to mask a potential political outcome
that would lead to the removal of President Tito, a Croatian by birth, whose
nom de guerre is the acronym of a communist cell to which he belonged in his
youth.
Croatia, a name that means "Very Free" in
an ancient Persian language, is one of the five federal republics that make up
the unsettling Yugoslav grid, also comprised of peoples with such disparate and
conflicting ethnic and cultural roots as Serbia, Slovenia, Montenegro, and
Macedonia. Croatian territory is the largest of them all, and its population is
close to 7,000,000.
To these figures must be added the 2,000,000 who,
starting in 1945, embarked on the path of exile, and a similar number of
Croatian seasonal workers in various Western European countries, seeking better
employment and educational opportunities. A highly industrialized region, the
Belgrade regime (the former Serbian capital) was never able to completely
suppress the nationalist sentiment of its inhabitants, a circumstance that
eventually spread to the rest of the republics, including Serbia, from which
the politically dominant core under Titoism originated, and the underdeveloped
Macedonia, where strong tendencies exist in favor of eventual incorporation
into neighboring Bulgaria.
With the proclamation of the "first
Yugoslavia" following the dissolution of Franz Joseph's Austro-Hungarian
Empire, just after the end of World War I, which erupted after the
assassination of the heir to the throne by Serbian terrorists from the
"Black Hand" organization, power fell to King Alexander I
Karageorgević, a figure notoriously linked to his enigmatic leader,
"Colonel Apis."
Alexander exercised a veritable fascist-style
dictatorship until 1934, when the Croatian counterpart to Serbian extremism,
the Ustaša, assassinated him in Marseille along with French Foreign Minister
Louis Barthou. At the head of this autonomist group was Ante Pavelić, an
anti-Bolshevik who had studied at several European universities and who managed
to rally the main sectors of public opinion in his homeland around his program.
Moving with great skill, Pavelić secured
German and Italian support—the latter at the price of some strategic
concessions on the Adriatic that earned him antipathy among his followers—and
on April 10, 1941, he announced to the world, engulfed in the fury of World War
II, the "Restoration of Croatian Independence."
Fourteen
states, including Argentina, the United States, and the Holy See, established
relations with the newly formed government. It was then that Tito emerged, a
veteran of the Spanish Civil War, a man of humble origins and a member of the
Communist International during his captivity in Russia as an imperial soldier
in the 1914-1918 conflict.
Josip Broz organized the resistance against Pavelić at the head of
his famous "partisans" and, taking advantage of the disagreements
between the Croatian head of state and his Axis allies,
led them to final victory in 1945, annihilating the remnants of the nationalist
army in Bleiburg, Maribor, and other locations. This army had long been
fighting not only against the "friendly" forces of Hitler and
Mussolini.
The old Croatian resistance organizations, however, managed to survive,
branching out throughout the world and constantly unsettling Tito's
centralizing ambitions.
On March 15, 1967, one hundred and thirty prominent Croatian writers and
scientists, many of them communists, signed a manifesto in Zagreb, their
capital, demanding "the end of Serbian hegemony and the full sovereignty
of Croatia." The response was a series of political and administrative
purges in this republic, culminating days ago with the closure of the magazine
Praxis, where admirers of the late Pavelić would hardly have been found. He
died in Spain at the end of 1959, a victim of bullets fired by unknown
assailants in Buenos Aires.
In this context, last Saturday's attack against the Belgrade vice-consul
in Lyon would be the calling card of the renewed Croatian nationalist
resistance, which goes beyond the scope of its patriotic commemoration on April
10. The objective, ultimately, is to ensure they are not forgotten as the
process of redefinition unfolds in a Yugoslavia without Tito.
Martín Allica
(Clarín, Buenos Aires, April 4, 1975.)
(We publish this article, inspired, of course, by the good faith and
spirit of friendship toward the Croatian cause on the part of its author.
However, we must point out that, according to information from the French
authorities handling the matter, the attack that prompted Mr. M. Allica to
write was perpetrated by Serbian četniks. Recently, one of their own was
killed in Belgium by Tito's secret agents, and the attack against M.
Djogović must be revenge between those who have known only revenge and
counter-revenge for centuries. To mislead the authorities, the terrorists
distributed leaflets accusing the Croats—the Ustaše—who should be an eternal
scapegoat for the crimes of the Serbian extremists, committed against the
Croatian people and possibly repaid by the Ustaše.)
Furthermore, Pavelić was never He was a university professor and
did not study at foreign universities. He graduated with a law degree from the
University of Zagreb, where he practiced law and, as a politician, was elected
to the Croatian National Assembly in 1927 in the Croatian capital, Zagreb.
After the massacre of Croatian National Assembly members in the Belgrade
parliament in 1928, which included the president of the Croatian Peasant Party,
Esteban Radić, Pavelić decided on "direct action." From
this emerged the Croatian liberation movement, the Ustaše, which would later
play a historical role, opposing its own strength against the violence of the
Serbian occupier. This is the essence of the issue, while other aspects are
subordinated to many interests of a more varied nature. (Note
from the S C. Editorial Staff).
Ivo Andrić died in Belgrade
BELGRADE, 8
(ANSA). — Yugoslav
writer Ivo Andric died yesterday in a Belgrade clinic.
The writer, who had been suffering from a serious
illness for more than a month, had deteriorated in recent days.
Considered one of the two best Yugoslav writers of
his time—the other being Miroslav Krleza—Andric's name became world-famous when
he was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1961. His works, one of his
critics said at the time, were those of someone who, "having fully assumed
his responsibility, knew how to intelligently handle the material that the
land, humanity, and his native history placed within his reach."
Andric—who preferred to define himself as an
observer rather than a creator—was born in 1892 in Travnik, the former capital
of Bosnia. Its atmosphere, where Catholics, Muslims, Orthodox Christians, and
Jews mingled without becoming indistinguishable, provided him with almost all
the themes for his books. He later lived in Sarajevo, where his early poems are
dated, and during the years of the Second World War, in Belgrade, where he
wrote his major novels and short stories.
These works, a blend of chronicle and fiction,
express the introspective horror of a witness to tragic events: wars,
persecutions, massacres, insecurity, and the struggle for survival. Thus, his
"Chronicle of Travnik" (1962), his "Chronicle of Bosnia"
(1963), and, earlier, "The Bridge on the Drina" (1945), "The
Young Lady," and his numerous short stories and tales, which, appearing
from 1920 onward, have been celebrated for their formal perfection and the
power of their expression. Andrić's work encompassed the life of Bosnia
from the arrival of the Turks to the present day, but his complete output
belongs to literature, rather than history. A literature that is sometimes
sensual, at other times somber, and often filled with horror and despair.
From "La Nación," March 9, 1975.
IVO ANDRIČ DIED IN BELGRADE
BELGRADE, 13
(UP). — Ivo
Andrić, the 1961 Nobel Prize winner for Literature, died at the age of 83
after suffering a stroke, doctors at the Yugoslav army hospital reported.
He was the only Yugoslav to have won the Nobel
Prize in Literature.
He traveled extensively throughout the world and
worked under a wide variety of governments. But his chronicles of his native
Bosnia offered an intimate portrait of the region, evoking feelings common to
people of all countries.
The symbol and title of his most famous work is
"The Bridge on the Drina," the great stone bridge near Visegrad,
Bosnia, built during the height of the Ottoman Empire and which remained intact
under the Austro-Hungarian Empire, the Yugoslav monarchy, and the current
communist administration.
Andrić, born in the former Muslim village of
Travnik in 1892, spent much of his childhood in Visegrad, where the bridge
stands that inspired the epic novel that would earn him the 1961 Nobel Prize in
Literature. Like many young people of his time, Andrić, who came from a
poor family, suffered persecution and arrest for his activities against the
Austro-Hungarian Empire, which administered Bosnia before World War I.
Educated at the
universities of Zagreb, Vienna, Krakow, and Graz, the writer was also a member
of the revolutionary nationalist organization "Young Bosnia," which
planned and carried out the assassination of Austrian Archduke Franz Ferdinand
on June 28, 1914, in Sarajevo—an attack that triggered the First World War.
This momentous event in human history, which focused global attention on
Bosnia, is the culmination of the four-century-long history of the bridge over
the Drina River.
After the war, Andrić entered the diplomatic service and served in
Rome, Bucharest, Trieste, Budapest, Madrid, and Geneva. At the beginning of the
Second World War in 1939, he was Yugoslavia's ambassador to Berlin.
During the war, the writer lived in seclusion in Belgrade, and during
the German occupation of his country, he remained out of the public eye.
It was during this time that he produced his best-known works, including
the so-called Bosnian Trilogy, consisting of the novel "Miss,"
"Travnik Chronicle," and "The Bridge on the Drina."
The civil war between Yugoslav royalists and Marshal Tito's forces,
which occurred during the world conflict, caused Andrić's sympathies to
shift toward the communists.
After World War II, Yugoslav literary circles hailed him as the greatest
writer in the Serbo-Croatian language. Andrić was a member of the National
Council, a parliamentary body.
Despite his age,
he never lost touch with his native Bosnia, frequently visiting the region,
especially Travnik.
(LA Prensa, Buenos
Aires, March 14, 1915).
*According to
the official 1971 census, the population was: 43.9% Muslim; 40.6% Catholic; and
13.5% Serbian Orthodox.
The Nazis were almost right
Alicia Jurado
is currently a renowned Argentine writer. Her literary works and articles in
the Buenos Aires press have a following. She declares herself politically
aligned with liberalism. Of course, she has no problem accepting all the
constitutive elements of Argentina's past, where Catholicism represents the
axis around which the country's culture and history have been structured. As
the author of these lines, an avid reader of Alicia Jurado's writings, I must
admit that at times there seems to be a contradiction, an irreconcilable
conflict, between her general position and some of her specific statements.
Thus, for example, in her article "The Problem of Power,"
published in LA PRENSA on May 6, 1975, the highly esteemed writer seems to have
formulated certain fundamental ideas that are difficult to reconcile with those
of the Argentine cultural, philosophical, and religious orientation. Indeed,
referring to the problem of power in human society in connection with the same
phenomenon in the animal kingdom, especially among monkeys, Alicia Jurado
identifies with the position formulated by Aldous Huxley in his novel
"Island."
The article we are referring to ends thus: "The inhabitants of the
happy island had managed to keep the tendencies of the bossy in check with
'early diagnosis and three pink capsules a day, before meals.' It would
undoubtedly be more beneficial for researchers to dedicate their efforts to
discovering the chemical composition of these capsules than to perfecting
nuclear weapons; once this preventive therapy is applied, it is almost certain
that weapons would be unnecessary," concludes Jurado.
It seems to us that here the cure is worse than the disease. The
manufacture and refinement of nuclear weapons is, or can be, a grave evil. It
is about ensuring the power of the strongest in the world, not the most just.
But altering human nature through biochemical castration, it seems to us, is
even worse. The moral greatness of man consists in possessing passions stemming
from his biophysical nature and then mastering them for ethical and cultural
reasons, generally through free will.
Where we have man's behavior automatically deemed "good," that
is, without the possibility of subjecting it to the ethical criteria of a free
will, there is no more human behavior. If "red pills" are accepted
today, tomorrow black, white, or green pills will be accepted and recommended,
substantially altering human nature at its material substrate. And then what? The Nazis began with sexual castrations. The
civilized world condemned them. Now should we continue expanding repudiated
methods? Human morality and ethical perfection, without a field of practice,
lose their meaning. Only in overcoming instinctive forces in the light of
higher values are merits and the meaning of morality, law, and
culture in general found. Otherwise, the Nazis were almost right.
The "absence" of serbs
in Tito's present-day Yugoslavia
Below we reproduce the list of Party officials, the
true neo-feudal masters of the Yugoslav communist state that currently governs
the fate of that political community:
|
Nacionalidad |
Comité Central |
Comisión estatutaria |
Comisión control |
Total |
|
Servios |
46 |
9 |
5 |
60 |
|
Croatas |
26 |
2 |
2 |
29 |
|
Eslovenos |
22 |
3 |
2 |
27 |
|
Montenegrinos |
22 |
3 |
2 |
27 |
|
Macedonios |
18 |
3 |
2 |
24 |
|
Albaneses |
13 |
2 |
— |
15 |
|
Musulmanes |
11 |
1 |
1 |
13 |
|
Húngaros |
4 |
1 |
— |
5 |
|
"Yugoslavos" |
2 |
— |
— |
2 |
|
Rumanos |
1 |
— |
— |
1 |
|
Eslovacos |
1 |
— |
— |
1 |
|
Turcos |
1 |
— |
— |
1 |
|
Totales |
166 |
24 |
15 |
205 |
These figures,
officially provided by the authorities of that country, indicate that the
selection of members of the Party's Central Committee and its auxiliary bodies
was based on "strict national proportion." This statement is
inaccurate. The situation is as follows: in the three bodies, Serbs have 60
representatives and Croats only 29. Furthermore, to better isolate the Croats,
the allocation of representatives from other nationalities was carried out to
the detriment of the principle of proportionality and in favor of Serbs and
those who align with their interests. Thus, Slovenes are represented by 27
delegates, compared to 29 Croats, even though the total Slovenian population is
1,700,000 compared to the Croat population of 4,520,000. Montenegrins have the
same number of representatives—27—as Slovenes, meaning only two fewer delegates
than Croats, and their total population is 508,000.
The Macedonians, in turn, natural Croat sympathizers, despite their
population of 1,595,000, have only 24 delegates. The Albanians, also potential
Croat allies, have only 15 delegates, while their population is 1,310,000. The
Muslims, Croats, and pro-Croats, who number 1,730,000,
have only 11 delegates in this central body. In short: despite the monolithic
nature of their respective parties, the pro-Serbian Serbian bloc has about 34
more officials in the center of power than the pro-Croat Croatian bloc.
Consequently, those who are talking about the alleged Serbian
absenteeism in present-day Yugoslavia are ignorant of the matter.
The 70th anniversary of the Croatian Peasant Party
Last year, the Croatian Peasant Party celebrated its 70th anniversary.
The Party's role in national life is of historical importance. Not only the
modern national consciousness of the peasant masses—85% at that time (1904)—but
also a democratic, humanitarian, and socio-political vision
are intimately linked to this Party. Esteban Radić, its undisputed
leader, was also the most voted-for and most beloved politician among his
people. But he was shot dead in the Belgrade "parliament" in 1928. Thus died the idea of a democratic community between
Croats and Serbs, because it was a Serb who fired with near impunity.
Tito's communism represents only a worsened version of Serbian
monarchical despotism. That is why the current president of the Party—Dr. J.
Krnjević—lives in exile. Supported by organizations gravitating towards
him, with epicenters in Canada and Belgium, Dr. Krnjević is developing
activities for the liberation of Croatia. The Conference on European Security
has commendably received a Memorandum prepared by him; Dr. M. Zorkin, president
of the party organizations in Canada, secured the intervention of Canadian
authorities to release a Canadian citizen of Croatian origin who was brought
before Tito's communist tribunal while visiting his parents in Croatia.
"The History of Humanity," prepared by UNESCO, records the
role of this Party while ignoring the existence of communist Yugoslavia. This,
and the attention this work devotes to Croatian culture and politics rather
than to that of Serbia, irritates Belgrade. Truth and authentic values
must prevail. This party, with its long democratic tradition,
remains the most suitable instrument in the struggle for the liberation of
Croatia.
Micro-news
Fourteen thousand Croatians "flooded"
Rome to celebrate the Holy Year last May. The encounter between the pilgrims,
their bishops, and Pope Paul VI was more cordial than ever. In his address, the
Pope praised Croatia's thirteen-century history and its martyrs—both clergy and
civilians—in an unprecedentedly laudatory manner. European radio and television
stations highlighted that the Croatian group was the largest of all the nations
present up to that point. L'Osservatore Romano gave the event great prominence,
dedicating its editorial and numerous photographs to it on the front page. The
New York Times reported the presence of approximately 10,000 Croatians.
The French and Italian press spoke of around
14,000. Il Tempo, a prestigious Rome daily, lavished praise on the Croatians
who filled St. Peter's Basilica to celebrate Holy Mass with all their bishops
in the presence of the Pope. There, Paul VI delivered his significant speech.
But it is also significant that certain international news agencies either
silenced or distorted the event. If it wasn't overlooked, the Croatian
"phenomenon" was presented as something to be disguised under the
common label "Slavic."
The biologist Julian Huxley, former first director
of UNESCO, died on February 15 of this year. He was considered one of the most
outstanding biologists of our century. He was a member of a family of
world-renowned biologists, philosophers, and writers. The recently deceased
scientist was a proponent of materialist monism, opposed to the dualism of
matter and soul and to religion. About ten years ago, there was a lively
discussion on this topic between him and his compatriot E. L. Mascall, a
university professor and Catholic priest, author of, among other works, the
book "Secularized Christianity." As a result of this discussion,
which resonated almost universally, some voices on the European continent
pointed to Sir Julian as the natural path leading to Moscow. Indeed, between
dialectical materialism and a mechanical, politically liberal materialist
monism, there is only a difference of method. The question remains: for how
long?
At the age of 83, Cardinal J. Mindszenty, a
Catholic symbol of resistance to communism, died suddenly in Vienna on May 6,
1975. During his long "exile" in his native Hungary, the Vatican's
foreign policy marginalized the dignitaries of its "Ostpolitik"
framework. Cardinal Casaroli's "Ostpolitik" continues to marginalize
traditionalists, extending a hand to those it excommunicated until recently. Isn't
our Cardinal Stepinac discreetly facing the same fate? Times change...
"The Croatian Review" celebrates a
quarter of a century of existence in exile. It appeared in 1950 in Buenos Aires
and continues to be published in Munich and Barcelona. It has become the
central organ for Croatian writers—literary, political, social, historical, and
others. Its second "European" issue, published in Paris in 1967, was
destroyed by the French police at Belgrade's behest. Six years later, the
French Administrative Court acknowledged the error and issued a ruling granting
moral satisfaction to the journal's editor, Professor V. Nikolić, and
covering all legal costs and compensation for the destruction of the printed
copy. This now definitive ruling honors both the French judiciary and
recognizes the integrity of the "Croatian Journal" and its editor.-
Los profesores Bogdan Radica y Christopher Spalatin
de la Fairleigh Dickinson University y de Marquette University, EE.UU.,
respectivamente, fueron distinguidos por las instituciones mencionadas. En la
Universidad mencionada en primer término existe ya "The Bogdan Raditza
History Award" que anualmente premiará al mejor alumno de Historia.
Spalatin a su vez recibió un diploma "for teaching excellence" con un
cheque de mil dólares. Los dos profesores son croatas y colaboradores de la
revista Studia Croatica.
-
The former Archbishop of Zagreb, Cardinal F. Šeper,
currently Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, was
recently appointed Camerlengo to Pope Paul VI. Now, rumors persist that the
high-ranking dignitary, due to his disagreement with the Vatican's
"Ostpolitik," should relinquish his position. Isn't this a case of
the well-known ecclesiastical practice of "promoveatur, ut amoveatur"
(promote, then remove)?
Aleksa Benigar: Alojzije Stepinac — hrvatski
kardinal —
Luis Stepinac, Croatian Cardinal, "Ziral"
Edition, Rome 1974, 939 pages with 70 illustrations.
"Taking all this into consideration,
especially the evidentiary material, some of which I have mentioned here, while
the rest is known to the court, my conscience does not permit me to agree with
the prosecutor's final proposal.
"The newspapers have published numerous
telegrams in recent days, but I counter them not only with the declaration of
the 150 priests of Zagreb, presented to the court refuting the archbishop's
accusation, but also with the prayers of thousands upon thousands of Croatian
parishioners who, in their churches and homes, have been praying without
interruption for several days now, and are still praying, that God may grant
him release as the most just verdict possible.
"I, too, in my capacity as his defense
attorney, propose that the Supreme People's Court deign to release the accused,
Archbishop Dr. Luis Stepinac."
" Thus, we are taken back spiritually to the year 1946,
etched in the painful history of Croatia. With these final words of the defense
attorney—Dr. Ivo Politeo—who was in charge of the defense of the Archbishop of
Zagreb, later elevated to the dignity of cardinal, another tragic chapter
closes in the life of this singular man, so exceptional in our time. The
components of this chapter, certainly numerous and very complex, despite its
predominantly religious character, will lead the conscientious historian, when
they decide to write and dedicate their pen to the recent period of Croatian
history, to the date of December 1, 1918, that is, the date of the proclamation
of the union of Croatia with Serbia. There, according to our profound
conviction, both the humanly tragic case of the cardinal and the general
situation of his Croatian people today begin.
On October 11, 1946, the archbishop was sentenced
to "imprisonment with forced labor for 16 years."
This sentence had been predetermined and was
pronounced by the court, whose task, as the archbishop himself told his judges,
was simply "to carry out the orders of a certain organization."
Knowing all this, Archbishop Stepinac stated the following in his short and
concise address:
1) "I will not personally defend myself;
" 2) "I decline (refuse) any possible legal
defense;
3) "Against the sentence, however it may end,
I will not make any appeal, because I see no use in it, nor any possible
meaning, because it is known that the court pronounces no other sentence than
the one desired by a very specific organization." It is evident and clear
which organization was being referred to. The truth of what the archbishop said
would later be confirmed by both Tito and Milovan Djilas, in conversation with
the Croatian sculptor Ivan Meštrović. Tito himself told the aforementioned
sculptor that the Croatian archbishop was condemned to appease the Great
Serbian Orthodox, while Djilas told him verbatim: "To tell the truth and
with all honesty—I believe I am not alone in this opinion—Stepinac is an
irreproachable man, of firm character, who does not allow himself to be broken.
He was condemned innocent..."
Almost everyone knew all this. All the essential
elements of the case brought against the archbishop, individually or as a
whole, were published by the free press in the West. Nevertheless, everything
remained as planned, for reasons of political opportunism. After five years of
imprisonment in Lepoglava, the archbishop was "conditionally"
released on December 5, 1951, and confined to his native village of
Krašić, where he died on February 10, 1960. We draw these elements, which
refresh our memory, from the monumental work of Father Aleksa Benigar, recently
published in Rome. It is a very well-documented work that no one dedicated to
the history of the Catholic Church in Croatia, from 1943 to the present day,
can afford to overlook; indeed, it will be indispensable to their research.
This will be especially essential for anyone who decides to study the life of
this towering figure, who was, in his time, the living
center of all religious, cultural, social, and, to a great extent, political
life in Croatia. Not as if Stepinac were a politician or engaged in politics in
the conventional sense.
No! His intensely religious life—a diffusive
goodness of his own—spontaneously radiated throughout the entire life of his
people, including their politics, giving it the fundamental orientation rooted
in unwavering ethical values. Cardinal Stepinac's existence was turbulent, yet
profoundly marked and guided by divine will and design. In total surrender to God
and to the faith of his people, he dedicated all his strength to the faithful,
teaching them in his countless pastoral letters, where he advised, pacified,
consoled, and warned, but also rebuked and protested whenever he considered it
his duty as shepherd of the flock entrusted to his care.
The chapters in Father Benigar's work, "In the
Whirlwind of War," "Stepinac in Communist Yugoslavia," and
"Before the Communist Tribunal," are especially moving because of the
gravity of the events they describe, in which Stepinac
is the central figure, protagonist, and bearer of the weight of those events. His
letters and pastoral letters perfectly reflect that reality.
In them, the archbishop intervenes and pleads,
warns, or, with necessary resolve, refuses or rejects, always making himself a
protector of the persecuted, a defender of the humble, and one who welcomes
those deprived of their homes. These documents reflect the archbishop's soul: a
serene, candid, and magnanimous soul. There was no problem that overwhelmed the
people in those times, especially during the last great war,
that Stepinac did not touch, despite so many adversaries and enemies, exposing
his own life to danger. He knew no fear when it was necessary to publicly
expound the Church's teaching on racism. In doing so, he disregarded the fact
that National Socialism was at the height of its power. Likewise, he was not
afraid to undertake everything within his power to protect the Orthodox, those
unjustly persecuted, or the Jews, the primary target of the persecution. This
same intrepid man displayed spiritual courage by opposing communist materialism
during the worst moments of Tito's tyranny.
Stepinac was, at that time, the ecclesiastical
figure about whom more was written and discussed than any other. His attitude,
his sermons, and his advice were received with enthusiasm by many, while others
questioned them.
He dedicated most of his life as coadjutor
archbishop to the internal organization of his diocese, a task he continued
even after becoming archbishop, founding new parishes and promoting the need
for lay religious organizations (Catholic Action).
A steadfast personality who loved truth above all
else, his behavior was consistent and uniform both in his daily interactions
with the faithful and his neighbors, as well as in the pulpit and his pastoral
letters. Truth, Christian morality, and general understanding constituted the
unwavering foundation of all aspects of this dignitary's life.
Simplicity and humility were two further
characteristics of this man of God. The secret of all these virtues lies in his
faith: In Te, Domine, speravi — I trust in You, Lord — this is the motto of our
cardinal. Having before his eyes the example of Saint Teresa of Ávila, the
Archbishop of Zagreb believed and was aware that no human action can have a
lasting effect without a profound spiritual life grounded in faith. In this
sense, Stepinac was a living example for his parishioners and for all his
neighbors.
These virtues radiated logically and spontaneously
from his conversations with the most powerful as well as with the humblest.
There are certain details in his life that attract the attention of the
attentive reader of this book: a great love for his mother, for children and
family, but above all, a patriotism untainted by any
kind of prejudice. Despite coming from a rather wealthy family, a profound
sense of and understanding of poverty was highly developed in him, so much so
that he shared everything he owned with his neighbor until the very last moment
of his life.
The life of every man is a great mystery, almost
indecipherable. But the life of Louis Stepinac, Archbishop of Zagreb, with all
his sacrifices, his work, and his selfless love for humanity in general—in
short, his entire life—is a secret above all other secrets, comprehensible only
in the light of divine grace. Such was he, and such is how Father Benigar
presents him in this invaluable work.
If it is true that 95% of the books currently
written and published are absolutely unnecessary, and
only 5% are necessary, then this well-documented, well-written book, written
with seriousness, responsibility, and love for the person it presents,
undoubtedly belongs to that 5%. A book so useful and
necessary for our generation. Upon finishing this reading, we feel stronger
and more determined to constantly overcome our human weaknesses; more
encouraged and more at peace with our daily anxieties.
The personality of a spiritual giant attracts us,
calms us, inspires confidence, and gives us the courage to confront all the evil
that dwells within us, in our nature so intimately bound to physiological and
material laws, in disharmony with ethical law and Love, the only thing that
elevates us above the animal world and guarantees us all a brighter future that
we must deserve. The example of Archbishop Stepinac is a sign of divine
intervention in the darkness so characteristic of humanity today.
The integrity of that "image of the Divine
Shepherd," as Pope John XXIII called him, shines forth in this book and
casts its light upon all who wish to see. A light and
splendor that know no bounds, to which we must open our eyes and, above all,
our hearts. The Ziral publishing house has greatly benefited us all, and
first and foremost the Croatian people, by publishing this book of immense
value. Commemorating the fifteenth anniversary of his passing, Ziral could not
have paid him a better tribute.
The Yugoslav government protested to the Italian
authorities about the publication of Father Benigar's work. This Yugoslav
action has a twofold significance: the truth disturbs the peace of Belgrade's
despotism, and, even worse, that despotism seeks to transplant its police
methods to Italy!
M. Rakovac
Smail
Balić: Kultura Bošnjaka - muslimanska komponenta
(Culture of the Bosniaks - Muslim Component),
Vienna 1973, p. 247 (Self-published)
Dr. Balić, expert and rapporteur for Oriental
affairs at the National Library of Vienna, attempts to present in its entirety
the cultural achievements of the group of South Slavs who are currently
officially called "Muslims in the ethnic sense," and therefore
written with a capital letter in Croatian, i.e., "Muslims."
The author begins with the assertion that in the
literature on Bosnian culture, the Muslim component is completely marginalized,
leaving the impression that the period of Turkish occupation of Bosnia, from
the 15th to the end of the 19th century, represents, culturally speaking, an
era of backwardness and darkness. This impression stems from a lack of
knowledge of the cultural heritage that our ancestors of the Muslim faith
bequeathed, not only to their own country but also to the Muslim world in
general.
To fulfill his purpose, the author has outlined a
comprehensive plan to encompass all cultural expressions of Bosnian Muslims.
Therefore, his work comprises the following sections: A) Introduction; B)
Popular Culture; C) School-Type Culture (Advanced Culture); D) Synoptic Table
of Current Developments; E) Conclusions; F) Summary in German; G) Bibliography;
H) Register of Individuals; and I) Illustrations (13 tables).
In the introduction, the author describes the few
existing testimonies of culture in Bosnia prior to the Turkish conquest:
Gothic-style Catholic churches in Bihać and Srebrenica, for example,
converted into mosques; the Missal of Prince Hrvoj (1399); the Gospel of Hrvoj
(1404), with its excellent illustrations; cultural exchange with neighboring
countries, especially the Croatian coast, and so on.
He addresses popular culture from a dual
perspective: spiritual and material. The spiritual aspect of the culture
primarily encompasses folk poetry, composed of heroic poems, whose originators
were singers and poets residing almost always in the residences of
"agas" and "pashas" who fostered this art, and lyrical
poems, whose most complete expression is the "sevdalinke," mostly
amorous in nature and expressing refined lyrical sentiments, sung on both
joyful and sorrowful occasions, with or without instrumental accompaniment.
An example of the, we might say, universal
acceptance of the "sevdalinka" is evidenced by the German film
"Die letzte Brücke" (The Last Bridge), where the background music is
the song "Kad ja pojdoh na Bendbašu"
("When I Went to Bendbaša"). Within lyric poetry, ballads, which are
recited, hold a special place. The first Muslim ballad to enter the Western
cultural sphere is the "Hasanaginica" ("Hasan-aga's Wife"),
first published by Alberto Fortis in 1774 in his work "Viaggio in
Dalmazzia" (Journey to Dalmatia). This ballad, recited in the Ikavski
dialect, and therefore belonging to the Croatian linguistic heritage, has been
translated into several languages repeatedly. On page 147/7, the
author provides a summary of the translations by country and author, namely:
into Czech, 4 times; into English, 15; French, 15; Latin, 1; Hungarian, 1;
Malay, German, 40; Polish, 7; Russian, 5; Slovenian, 3; Swedish, 1; and
Italian. 2. It has never been translated into Turkish, Arabic, or Persian!
The author reproduces, in whole or in part, other
beautiful ballads such as "Majka Bajrambegovica" ("Bajram-bey's
wife as a mother") and "Omer and Merirna," which represents the
Bosnian variant of the classic love story of "Romeo and Juliet."
Other components of spiritual folk culture include:
folk music, in which, despite Eastern influences, the main elements remained
indigenous; folk tales, such as the comic tales of Nasrudin-hodža; and folk
dramatic arts, the most representative of which is shadow puppetry, called
Haradjoz (Qaragõz), named after its central character, and similar to puppet
theater.
The material aspect of popular culture is
represented by decorative folk art in metal and wood, especially in the making
of weapons, profusely decorated with filaments and engravings, and by housing
culture, which the author explains through its three main types:
"kula" (fortified castles), "ćardak" (castle, seat of
the bey's family), and "odiak" (seat of wealthy families; in reality,
a ćardak with tall chimneys and a wooden or metal "block"
indicating that passersby will find free lodging). Compared to housing
relations in neighboring Serbia, Bosnian housing culture during the Turkish
period represents a real advance, says Dr. Balić.
The second part of this work deals with school-type
culture, which includes its literary manifestations throughout the Ottoman,
Austrian, Yugoslav, Croatian (1918-1945), and contemporary periods.
The author presents the period The author
extensively examines the Ottoman period, first from the perspective of
spiritual culture and then material culture, though this approach will not be
the same when dealing with later periods.
Discussing the significance and place of the
Eastern component in the literature of the South Slavs, the author argues that
the unfavorable assessment of their cultural heritage during the Ottoman era is
scientifically untenable. While Serbian literature of the period is rightly
denied the status of literature because it is exclusively religious and
mystical, Bosnian literature is also historical, linguistic, philosophical,
poetic, and so on—works which, according to all criteria, constitute literature
in the true sense of the word. Therefore, the author, in a way, criticizes
Salko Nazečić's opinion in the Encyclopedia of Yugoslavia that
"four centuries of Turkish rule completely halted all economic and
cultural progress." Thus, according to the author, clarifying the Ottoman
past is not only a scientific necessity but also a Contribution to the
elimination of superstitions and national prejudices.
His criticism in this regard is directed especially
against Nobel laureate Ivo Andrić, who had conceived his concepts about
the intellectual and moral backwardness of the "Bosniak Turks" as a
scientific discovery, since he wrote his doctoral thesis on this subject at the
University of Graz in 1923, and incorporated it, with only slight
modifications, into his two main works, Na Drini ćuprija ("The Bridge
over the Drina River") and Travnička kronika ("Travnik
Chronicle").
The purpose of this work is also to provide an
overview of Bosniak cultural contributions to Oriental languages. Indeed,
between 1463 and 1878, Bosniaks contributed to the Ottoman Empire. Meanwhile,
their contributions to Turkish, Arabic, and Persian are justifiably denied. The
most fruitful period in Bosniak literature corresponds to the time when the
Empire It was at the height of its power (1544-1683).
For religious reasons, Bosniaks devoted
considerable attention to the Arabic language, adopting the Arabic alphabet
even for annotations in their native tongue, Croatian. This type of literature
is called "Aijamiado" or "Alhamiado," a Spanish derivation
of the Arabic "al-agami" (foreign), meaning foreign literature. A
classification of writers according to the language they used (Turkish, Arabic,
Persian) and a list of writers and poets in alphabetical order, with
biographical information for each and their most important works, demonstrates
the enormous contribution of Bosniaks to Islamic culture in general.
Epistolography as a literary genre is not
sufficiently researched. However, the author cites some examples, such as
fragments of the correspondence of Orner Bey Begzadić, from the 17th
century, with the people of Dubrovnik.
Given the flourishing of folk poetry, there was
little perceived need for artistic poetry. Created on the basis of Arabic
metrics and written with Arabic letters adapted to the Croatian
language—"Arabica"—this literature is the aforementioned
"Aljamiado literature." The oldest poem in this category dates from
1588 or 1589 and is by a certain Mehmed, who at that time lived in
Transylvania. It is written in "Ikavski" and is titled "The
Croatian Poem." It is of a reflective-amorous nature, which is rare since
most are religious, moral, human, and, to a lesser extent, political, and very
few are amorous in nature. Dr. Balić dedicates several pages to the poet
Muhammad Uskufi Hawai, the most important of "Aljamiado literature,"
whose 100-verse poem, addressed to the Christians in Serbia, has caused divisions
due to misinterpretation.
Indeed, each of the twenty-five stanzas ends with
the line "Hod'te nami vi na vira!", which the Serbs interpreted as an
incitement to embrace Islam ("Come to us, to our religion") instead
of interpreting it as: "Come to us, word of honor!" This poem is also
written in "Ikavski," a proper Croatian dialect, although the poet
himself often refers to it as "Bosniak."
The author dedicates a chapter to public Islamic
libraries, some thirty of which were founded by Bosniaks. The most important
was the Gazi Husrevbegova, founded in 1537 in Sarajevo. The private library of
the Croatian scholar Dr. Safvetbeg Bašagić, especially his rich Oriental
collection, is now in the library of the University of Bratislava, where it was
sold. At the end of the 18th century, Sarajevo had five public libraries and
two hundred private libraries.
After describing the spiritual aspect of
school-type culture above, the author provides a picture of its material aspect
by describing the main characteristics of architecture and the visual arts in
Bosnia.
Regarding buildings, mosques deserve the most
attention, which is not surprising given that during the 52 years that the
office of Grand Vizier was held by Bosnian Muslims, they erected artistically decorated
and magnificently endowed mosques in their homeland and throughout the Muslim
world, especially in Istanbul (Constantinople).
In 1958, there were 946 mosques in Bosnia, of which
about 30 had domes, ten of which were of considerable artistic value. "Medrese"
(schools), "tekije" (houses of the "dervis" for religious
acts —the first one founded before 1463—) and mausoleums complete the
description and enumeration of the sacred buildings.
The construction of bridges, the now-vanished
"karavan-saraji" (caravan inns), "bezistani" (covered
markets—only found in Sarajevo today), "sabat kule" (clock towers),
aqueducts, baths and drinking fountains, and above all, the "imareta"
(free public kitchens near the largest mosques), complete the picture of
secular buildings and structures, all bearing the names of the principal
architects and patrons.
The author begins the section on "Visual
Arts" (likovna umjetnost) by explaining that, due to the great
significance of the Quran in the lives of Muslims, Arabic script and its
artistic development belong to the most elegant branches of Eastern art. Hence
the large number of Bosnian calligraphers and miniaturists. The author mentions
234, indicating their principal works and the year of death of each. Among
other sources for this meticulous work, the author highlights the work of Dr.
Savfet Bašagić, *The Illustrious Bosnian Croats in the Turkish Empire*
(Zagreb 1931), and Djoko Mazalić, *Pictorial Art in Bosnia and Herzegovina
during the Turkish Era* (Sarajevo 1965). Based on these sources, Dr. Balić
vigorously refutes certain assertions that Islam prohibits the visual arts.
In the final subdivision of the "Advanced
Culture" section, the author provides a synoptic overview of early Bosnian
literature worldwide, through a list of authors whose works have been
translated from Arabic and Turkish into English, French, German, Hungarian,
Romanian, Russian, and Croatian. The following section offers a somewhat
incomplete overview of Bosnian writers of the Ottoman school and their works
published in Oriental languages. The chapter dedicated to cultural creations in
Bosnia during the Austrian, or Austro-Hungarian, era (1878-1918) has an
encyclopedic character, in which the first cautious steps towards the
modernization and Europeanization of literature are manifested in the works of
the well-known: Mehmedbeg Kapetanović-Ljubušak, Sevfetbeg Bašagić,
Edhem Mulabdić, Osman Nuri-Hadžić and Musa Čazim
Čatić. From the brief section on memorial literature, it is clear
that the author possesses the 727-page manuscript of memoirs by Ademaga
Mešić, a prominent philanthropist and patron of science and the arts, who
died in 1947. The author treats the Yugoslav and Croatian period (1918–1945)
only briefly, listing the writers who had achieved a certain literary
reputation, while the current period—that is, the cultural development after
the Second World War—is described extensively through the sections on
literature, painting, drama and theater, music and folklore, and scientific
activity under the aspects of the humanities, natural sciences, and
engineering. In the chapter dedicated to journalism, the author lists 80
Bosnian newspapers and magazines that were published at one time or another in
Sarajevo or in other national or foreign cultural centers.
Finally, in his conclusions, he states that the
research conducted to date has demonstrated that the segment of the Bosnian
population that embraced Islam in the 15th, 16th, and 17th centuries has been a
bearer and creator of cultural values, continuing to some extent its
pre-Islamic traditions and carrying these cultural values beyond national
borders to other parts of the Ottoman Empire, without this implying any
evaluation based on international criteria.
The analyses carried out in this work and the
conclusions drawn from them indicate the path—says the author—that we must
follow to attempt to answer three important questions related to the essence
and development of Bosnian Muslim culture:
1) Is there a genetic relationship between the Bogomil
and Bosnian Muslim cultural heritage?
The author argues for the existence of such a
relationship, basing his assertion on the active participation of Bosnian
Muslims in mystical literature and Gnostic philosophy. The presence of the
earlier tradition is also revealed in the houses (tekija) of the
"dervish," which have replaced the "hža" of the Bogomils,
and in the construction and location of cemeteries.
2) What is the relationship of this cultural
heritage to the other components of Bosnian culture?
There are no direct links, although the Muslim
component occasionally appears alongside other Bosnian components, such as the
Croatian Catholic component, in the selection of themes (biblical,
philosophical, and historical), in ways of thinking, and in mood. The author
argues that the indigenous elements in popular poetry are closely linked to
Aljamiado poetry, thus making it also indigenous.
3) In general, to what extent is it justified to
speak of a Bosnian Muslim culture?
The author answers this question by asserting that,
with regard to the advanced type of cultural creativity, it belongs to the
sphere of Islamic civilization, without excluding its national
characterization. Through their bearers, these cultural creations are
undoubtedly a Bosnian heritage.
This work was previously published in a more
concise form at the symposium Croatia: Land, People, Culture, Volume II
(Toronto 1970), under the title "Cultural Archives of Bosnian and
Herzegovinian Muslims," and was reviewed as such in Stndia
Croatica, Vol. 46-47, 1972, pp. 215-216. In its current form, it reveals the
breadth and importance of the subject, capable of enthralling and captivating a
cultural historian throughout their life, without having provided anything more
than an outline of the topics for future researchers of culture in Bosnia and
Herzegovina.
Milan Blažeković
Dionyslus
Lasić, O.F.M.: De vita et operibus Sancti Jacobi de Marchia
Franciscan Library (Ancona), 1974, p. 471.
Brother Dionysius Vincent Lasić is a Croatian
Franciscan, a professor at the Franciscan Central University—Anthonianum—in
Rome. He was born in Herzegovina, near Široki Brijeg, a town that once boasted
a Franciscan college, monastery, seminary, monumental church, and residence for
day students. These institutions and buildings were burned or partially
destroyed by Tito's communists at the end of World War II. For this reason, the
town is now considered the Croatian Cassino. Father Lasić had to remain in
Rome, where he currently carries out a multifaceted activity as a priest,
professor, and writer, as do many of his compatriots in other parts of the free
world.
He was known for his austere, seraphic life and his
erudition, and the authorities of his Order entrusted him with teaching the
ascetic doctrine, which the Franciscans have cultivated intensely for
centuries.
After his work *Theologia Perfectiva*, Rome, 1956,
400 pages, and so many other monographs and articles published in specialized
journals of theology and philosophy, this is Father Lasić's second major
scholarly work. In it, the author, in addition to his theological talent, also
demonstrates the vocation of a consummate historian. At the request of the
renowned Croatian historian, Dr. D. Mandić (see SC, volumes 50-51, 1973,
pp. 120-126 and 127-131, two articles by D. Žanko and M. Biažeković,
respectively), to send him a photocopy of St. James of Marchia's *Dialogus
contra hereticos bosnenses* from Rome to his residence in Chicago, Father Lasić,
unable to find it in any manuscript, undertook the study of the matter. After
lengthy and meticulous research, he completed this work in Latin, prepared with
strictly scientific rigor.
Saint James of Marchia was an Italian Franciscan,
one of the renowned preachers and theological experts of his time (1394-1476),
whom the Roman Curia, in agreement with the religious orders, sent to spread
Christianity and prevent the dissemination of heretical doctrine in various
parts of the world. After carrying out extensive work in Germany, Bohemia, and
Hungary, this preacher also arrived in Bosnia to combat Patarenism or
Bogumilism in that Croatian province, which at that time had become an
independent kingdom.
This work by Lasić—besides being of interest
to specialists—is of importance to Croatian religious and cultural history. In
the work of Saint James—Itinerarium—it is not known for certain whether it was
written exclusively by him or in collaboration with others, especially Saint
John Capistrano. There is a precise comparison between the doctrine of a Roman
Christian and a Bosnian priest, which allows us to see exactly the doctrinal
errors and beliefs of that Christian sect. It also mentions some places in
Bosnia: Sutjeska, Fojnica, Visoko, Mostar, Gabela, etc.—as well as some rivers
and lakes: Neretva, Crna Rijeka, etc.—where the saint traveled and worked.
In one of the Franciscan monasteries he helped to
build, it is claimed that one of the rooms was his and the other was that of
Father Angel Zvizdović. who had the misfortune of
facing the Turkish sultan Mehmed el Fatih, who conquered Bosnia, but who, at
Zvizdović's request, assured the Croatian Franciscans and the Catholic
population a tolerable "modus vivendi" for a long time.
Later, in the centuries-long clashes and wars
between Christianity and Islam, the situation worsened, bringing a twofold
negative consequence: a large part of the Croatian population of Bosnia
embraced Islam and enlisted in the victorious and conquering Ottoman troops,
while the other, the Catholic population, joined the Christian armies led first
by their own Croatian leaders and later by Hungarians and Austrians. This
considerably undermined the spiritual and national unity of the Croatian
people, an impact still felt today. Furthermore, the continuous armed
conflicts, which lasted four centuries, cost the Croatian people millions of
lives, both in battle and through emigration to Christian countries bordering
Croatia or within the Ottoman Empire.
Lasić's work is written in ecclesiastical
Latin and presented graphically in a neat and meticulous manner.
Franjo Nevistić
(Why Croatia?) Author's edition, Cheltenham,
Victoria, Australia, p. 51, without year indication.
It is natural that any group of immigrants that enjoys
civic freedoms and a certain economic security in the new adopted homeland
begins, sooner or later, to also act politically. In doing so, he tries to gain
friendships with people or groups with the same or similar political and
ideological idiosyncrasies in general. On the other hand and for the same
reasons, said immigration becomes the object of enmities, mistrust or
indifference on the part of opposing currents in the same environment. At the
government level, however, there is no government that would like the political
activity of immigrant groups outside the limits it has set.
Once these have been passed, the offenders become
liable to rigorous measures in accordance with the existing political and
diplomatic relations with the government of the country of origin of their new
citizens or simple residents. Furthermore, it is logical - and this is the case
of all emigrants in the world - that the State against which the activity of
its emigrants could be directed, tries to neutralize it.
Their agents follow all the activity of these
people, try to locate and denounce them and, this often happens, liquidate
their members. As time goes by, this tactic takes other and more perfidious
forms of action. Such is what characterizes the anti-Yugoslav action of Croats
abroad and that of the secret agents of the Yugoslav government.
This new tactic is visible especially after the
failed attempt to liberalize Yugoslavia, whose protagonists were the Croatian
communists. In effect, now it is not about following the guidelines of the
eventual subversive activity of the emigrants, but, disguised as indomitable
adversaries of the regime, taking part in it, organizing it, leading it and
delivering the deceived Croatian idealists into the hands of their
executioners.
This fact aggravates, and sometimes makes it
impossible to distinguish, when these are genuine acts of emigration, when
those actually undertaken by agents of the Yugoslav communist government,
infiltrated in the ranks of the Croatian emigration. This difficulty produces
confusion and contrary interpretations, also within the active forces of
Croatian emigration, according to their political conveniences or not at the
time.
For this reason, the specter of infiltration hangs
like a sword of Damocles over every action of Croatian emigration. Mistrust and
insecurity characterize, as a consequence of this perfidious enemy action, the
emigration environment, both in the relationship between its members and
between them and the environment and the government of their new homelands.
Douglas Darby, member of the Parliament of New
South Wales and president of the Captive Nations Committee of the same State,
must have faced such problems and uncertainties since 1968, when he set out to
draw the attention of his fellow citizens to the danger to Australia of
communist infiltration, exposing the treatment to which Croatian immigrants in
Australia were subjected on the occasion of the explosion at the Yugoslav
Tourist Agency in Sydney - on 9/16/1972 - and, in particular, on the occasion
of the visit to Canberra of the Minister President of the Yugoslav Government,
Eijedić, in March 1973. Hence the title of this pamphlet: "Why
Croatia?"
G Thanks to his
numerous contacts with various Croatian immigrant groups in Australia, Douglas
Darby, author of several anti-communist works, became quite knowledgeable about
Croatian history and current national issues. This is demonstrated in the
present booklet, despite some shortcomings regarding certain historical facts.
In reality, this work represents an apologia for the Croatian cause, sometimes
in a polemical and satirical manner.
Therefore, based on English-language works about
the great tragedy of Bleiburg (Operation Slaughterhouse, by Ivan Prceia and
Stanko Guldescu; Massacre of the Croatian Army in 1946, by Oton Knezović;
and In Tito's Death Marches and Extermination Camps, by Joseph
Hećimović), he criticizes Miss Phyllis Auty, author of the
biographical work Tito, for her bias, saying: "She destroys herself as a historian
when she doesn't even mention what happened at Bleiburg in her work" (p.
18).
The first seven
chapters of the work deal with Croatian history, drawing interesting parallels
with certain periods of English history, especially covering the periods of
coexistence with other nations up to the "Exodus of 1945." The following three chapters describe the events
in Australia and the deplorable role of Senators Murphy and Turnbull in
orchestrating the persecution of Croatians during Bijedić's visit, through
measures that temporarily transformed Australia into a police state for
Australians of Croatian descent.
In the chapter "The Australian Enigma,"
he severely criticizes the Australian government for its complete lack of
resolve in addressing the case of Australian citizens Vejsil Kekić, Djuro
Horvat, and Mirko Vlasnović, who were executed in Yugoslavia, accused of
attempting to invade Yugoslavia, an act orchestrated by the Yugoslav secret
police. Douglas Darby describes the event as follows:
"In the summer of 1972, some members of the
Yugoslav secret police, posing as members of the Croatian underground
liberation organization, encountered a group of young Australian Croats in
Austria. After exchanging confidences, a truck appeared. Under the impression
of promising prospects for a spectacular uprising, others joined them. Urged on
by their new friends, they headed for the Bosnian mountains,
300 miles away, dodging border checkpoints and avoiding towns.
"They didn't realize that everyone who greeted
them as they passed through the villages was being closely watched. These
unfortunate souls would soon receive a visit in the early hours of the morning,
to be taken to prison for questioning in order to easily identify the actual or
potential domestic revolutionaries—as they are usually called."
"In the Bugojno region, where they stopped to
conduct reconnaissance, the Australian group began to suspect something was
amiss. Everything had seemed so easy, and there were some unclear situations.
They realized they had been deceived. They decided to flee. The driver, who
until then had been so friendly to them, resisted and was killed. With
surprising speed, armed helicopters and numerous infantry arrived. Sporadic
fighting raged across a vast region for a considerable time."
The author says that this maneuver revealed to the
Yugoslav secret police that all of Croatia was potentially ready to rise up and
that a well-organized and led guerrilla force of invaders could succeed.
Therefore, the author argues, it is not surprising that Mr. Bijedić tried
to get the Australian government to act as an agent of Yugoslavia in
investigating any potential anti-Yugoslav Croatian activity in Australia.
Mr. Whitlam, however much he might have wanted to
lend his support, could not turn Australia into the police state to which
Bijedić is accustomed. If the Australian government is going to officially
treat Croatian immigrants in the way Mr. Bijedić expects, the author
continues, it will provide greater impetus to communist infiltration into the
ranks of the younger Croatian generation with the aim of turning them into a
"fifth column" for their assault forces to seize power in Australia.
They will achieve this, the author says, by slandering the parents of the younger
Croatian generation in Australia who fought for Croatian independence, labeling
them "ustashas" and fascists, on the one hand, and covering up their
horrific crimes, especially that of Bleiburg, on the other hand.
The author does not connect the "Bugojno
operation" with either the "Polarka" plan (recently uncovered by
Czech General J. Šejna) or the trial initiated in Zagreb in 1972 against the
protagonists of the "Croatian Spring." Douglas Darby wrote his work
in defense of the Croats of Australia, victims of a campaign of hatred and
terror inspired by communists in Australia.
Therefore, in his final chapter—"The
Conclusion Is Freedom"—he proposes: "1) The Australian government
should not comply with the recommendations of the Yugoslav government against
the Croats, as this would betray its own fundamental principles. 2) Despite
existing diplomatic relations, Australia should clearly state its position: the
self-determination of the Croats and their separation from Yugoslavia should be
implemented if they so desire." 3) Australia must recognize that Croatia
wants to be free and that it must support it in this, "but without any
terrorist activity against Yugoslav agencies in Australia and without preparing
military actions of any kind anywhere." (p. 50).
With this last recommendation, the author admits
his own uncertainty regarding who is actually responsible for some of the
terrorist acts we alluded to initially.
Regarding some historical inconsistencies, one must
regret the evident lack of cooperation between local Croatian intellectuals and
the author, who undoubtedly acted in good faith, prior to the final drafting of
the book, as a sentence like this cannot possibly appear in this work:
"In 1861, a group in the Croatian parliament,
led by Ante Starčević, declared that Croatia should be an independent
nation, and an undercover organization was effectively constituted"
("...and an undercover organization was effectively constituted," p.
8).
Where did Douglas Darby get this false information?
We don't know. But we do know that within the Yugoslav secret service there are
departments tasked with spreading historical lies for political purposes—that
is, for political defamation. Well, who provided Jo Franahal, author of the
article "Terreur sur les Balkanes — Trois generations de
conspirateurs" (L'Histoire Pour Tous, No. 15, 7/15/1961, Paris) with data
for a historical lie like this:
..L'agitateur Croatian Starchevitc' i found a
groupe terroriste, the Parti du Droit, dont le program ne visait rien de moins
qu'à créer un vaste État Croate, englobant tous les territoires situés entre
l'Allemagne et la Grèce. The radical nature of this doctrine did not attract a
large number of partisans, but those who were there were all fanatics who did
not hesitate to use bombs and knives to spread their ideas." (For further details, see the article "Dr. Ante
Starčević in Recent French Publications," Studia Croatica, Vol.
36-37, 1970, pp. 59-62).
The preceding quote contains not a single sentence,
not a single assertion that could even be considered a half-truth. It is all an
outright lie! Similarly, and despite the previously listed English literature
on the extermination of Croats in 1945, and even more so, despite numerous
historically accurate descriptions of the events, on pages 26 and 27 of chapter
In "Exodus," the various episodes of the retreat and extradition are
interwoven and presented in such a way that all the intervening parties—the
Croatian representatives who offered surrender, the English general who refused
it, and the partisan commanders responsible for the massacre—appear equally to
be good people. All rather naive! How and why, then, could a crime greater than
Katyn have occurred? the reader wonders.
Despite many historical inaccuracies, this work
makes a positive contribution to understanding the political reality of
Croatian emigration worldwide, and especially in Australia.
Milan Blažeković
The Little Corner of Poetry: Ana María
Petričević, nun and poet
Miss Professor Anka (Ana) Petričević is
currently a nun of the Second Order of Saint Francis, also known as the Order
of Saint Clare. She lives in Split, the capital of maritime Croatia, or
Dalmatia. Her Poor Clare name is Maria. After obtaining her teaching degree
from the University of Zagreb and attracting the attention of specialists for
her literary and poetic talent, Ana-Maria unexpectedly withdrew young, behind
the cloistered gates and into the semi-darkness of the austere walls of the
Poor Clare monastery.
While thousands upon thousands of young people—both
Croatian and from abroad—expose their beauty to the sun, the sea, love, and the
stars of that ancient Adriatic city's enchanting atmosphere, our professor and
poet—herself a captivating feminine beauty—renounces all of this. The setting
sun, the turbulent sea, fleeting love, and fading stars—the beauty and love of
youth that quickly wither—are not the true environment of this exceptional being. She must have felt what the French poet said: "Autumn is already here! — But how can one regret an eternal
sun, if we are committed to the discovery of divine clarity — far from people
die on seasons."
Ana-María deeply felt a universal autumn of the
visible world. That is why she renounces the ephemeral. She must have felt a
whisper of supernatural grace, a discreet whisper, but for this refined and
sensitive soul it was a true shock, sealing her forever. She herself speaks to
us about this conjecture: she shares her inner "story," that of this
candid soul, an expiation for all the youth of the world, but first and
foremost for her homeland, Croatia, whose youth are exposed—in addition to the
inclinations of a general disordered passion—to the temptations prepared daily
by an atheist regime that officially also attempts to destroy in their hearts
every vestige of religion, transcendentalism, and metaphysics. In a book of
poetry, published in Split in 1974, she "explains" the beginning of
her personal drama:
"You shook the foundations of my citadel
and destroyed all that You did not sustain.
Sitting on ruins I am weeping,
COMFORT ME...
TELL ME, what more beautiful temples
and white marble towers You will raise,
whose walls You will adorn with pearls of my tears...
TELL ME...
That I may never again weep
for beauty that dies!
Is this not the drama of us all? Only those of us
who, illuminated by divine clarity, feel the presence of eternal beauty, can
not weep for passing beauties."
Franjo Nevistić
[1] "The troops under the command of General
Dapčević (Peko) and Popović (Koča) are primarily composed
of Serbs..." These two generals and their troops are primarily responsible
for the massacre that took place on that occasion. See Brigadier Maclean's telegram
to the Foreign Office of February 2, 1945. In the same brigadier's telegram of
January 26, 1945, point 3, he stated: "Tito told me yesterday that
Pavelić's forces number around 200,000 men..." See: "VUS",
Zagreb, July 1973, No. 1108. (British
document: F. O. 48809, R. 1987/6/92).
[2] Naša
Reč — Our World, London, No. 235/1972, where D. Tosić, a Serb and
anti-communist, openly acknowledges the fact. See S.C., vol. 44-45, p. 5, note 4, year XIII,
Buenos Aires.
[3] Tragedy of Bleiburg, special edition of S.C.,
Buenos Aires, 1963, 391 pp.; then: Operation Slaughterhouse, edited by J.
Prcela and S. Guldescu, Dorrence & Co., Philadelphia, 1970, 557 pp., and
Lord Nicholas Bethell, The Last Secret — Forcible Repatriation to Russia
1944-47, Andrés Deutsch, London 1974, especially pages 87-88, concerning the
Croatian case. We note on this occasion that Nova Hrvatska, London, No. 9/75,
p. 5 and pp. 10-15, published highly important details on this matter. There,
Edvard Kocbek, the most renowned Slovenian writer, former guerrilla fighter,
and former minister under Tito, recounts the methods the communists employed
against those in the resistance to secure the ultimate "merits" of
the war and the struggle exclusively for themselves. There is also the
testimony of B. Todorovié, a Serbian and former guerrilla fighter under Tito.
At the time of the surrender of the Slovenian,
Croatian, and Serbian anti-communists, he served as a liaison officer and
interpreter with the British officers, only to later "choose
freedom." Introducing British Lieutenant Lockhead in Rosenbach, Austria,
the liaison officer for the 6th Special Unit, Todorović recounts:
"...He told us that by 10:00 a.m. the next day we should prepare a 30-car
train... and that he would load approximately 1,500 prisoners at Maria Elend
station... The following day, the transport arrived late. It carried half of
the 3rd Battalion, stationed on the other side of the Hrušćica Tunnel, in
Yugoslav territory. These soldiers (ours) were positioned in the cars in such a
way that the prisoners wouldn't see them and wouldn't realize they were being
taken to Yugoslavia, since the British had promised to send them to Italy. When
the train arrived at Maria Elend station, our soldiers hid there until the
prisoners boarded the cars, at which point the doors were closed. The prisoners
boarded the train under British control. But when our soldiers appeared, panic
ensued." Among the prisoners, this was clearly visible on their faces. Some
began to shout, "Long live the English!" "Don't hand us over,
because they'll kill us!"
But the train started moving, and 15 minutes later we arrived in
Rosenbach. More of our soldiers were waiting there and surrounded the train.
There were also British sentries... Upon reaching Hrušćica (Yugoslav
territory—S.C.'s note), the train was surrounded by the entire battalion on the
orders of the brigade commander, relayed by telephone." Todorović
then recounts how Tito's officers arrived to kill 54 officers selected from
among the prisoners. After terrible torture—beatings with sticks until they
fell to the ground—they were taken at dusk "to a small grove, a few
hundred meters from the battalion headquarters. There they argued about who was
going to kill them... I think they all participated..." The witness
continues: "All these murderous officers returned singing. Among them was
a certain Mile, a Serb, commander of a machine gun battery of the 3rd
Battalion." battalion, the commander's favorite. It was the one that killed
the most. To see what happened, I went there and found the bodies that the
soldiers were burying. I saw pools of blood and a body with its throat cut,
which leads me to assume that the others were also stabbed to death, since I
only heard two or three revolver shots and there were 54 dead."
Todorović's account began with the date 24/V/45 and ends with 3/VI/45. On
the latter date, a dinner had been organized for the British officers. "I
thought," he says, "that I would attend alone, as a representative of
the partisan officers. But, seeing that another large transport was being
prepared for the next day, those officers who carried out the aforementioned
massacre also showed up, all except the commander." On the British side
were Captain Brown and two captains from the regiment stationed at St. James's,
as well as Lieutenant Lockhead and Lieutenant Galbraith (?)... See the British
document: F. O. 371/ (48920) R 13674/728/92. We omit the other details in which
Todorović recounts the horrors he personally witnessed. This last
account—the dinner with the British and the preparation of another large and
tragic shipment—confirms the assumption that the transports continued one after
another, awaiting their "passengers" with the same "liberating"
fate. This account also confirms the veracity of the testimonies reproduced in
the book "Tragedy of Bleiburg." Transports and massacres increased,
as did the number of those beheaded, reaching almost unbelievable figures.
There ended the flower of Croatian youth and the intellectual "elite"
of that nation.
[4] See: Croatia and the Current Crisis in Yugoslavia, Spanish edition
of S. C., Buenos Aires, 1972.
[5] See pages 75-77 of this volume by S. C.
[6] See: Bernard George, L'Occident joue et perd la Yugoslavia dans la guerre,
Paris, 1968, Editions de la Table Ronde, 283 pp., and the aforementioned book
by Lord Nicholas Bethell, The Last Secret, London, 1974, 224 pp. Add here: M.
Addis, a senior official at the British Foreign Office at that time, in a
document of instructions to his successor upon being entrusted with another
task—currently British ambassador to Beijing—stated, among other things:
"A considerable amount of time passed before we learned that the poor
(underlined by S.C.) Croats and Slovenes, driven out of Carinthia (Austria),
were mostly slaughtered by Tito's troops after of crossing the Yugoslav border.
The best description of these beheadings is found in document R.
13674/1728/92..."
[8] Tell me, I urge you to answer: imagine that the
fate of humanity depended on you, and that your goal was to give men happiness,
peace, and tranquility, but that to achieve this it was necessary to torture
and kill only one small being, that same child who beat his chest with his
fists, to build his edifice upon unredeemed tears—would you consent to be an
architect under such conditions? “Tell it, don’t lie!” Dostoevsky in The Brothers Karamazov. See Leon Chestov: The Philosophy of
Tragedy, Emece Editores, Buenos Aires, 1949, p. 139.
[9] Recently, Dr. C. Cuchetti gave a brilliant
lecture at the Argentine Croatian Cultural Club in Buenos Aires, organized precisely
to commemorate the 30th anniversary of the Bleiburg tragedy. In his masterful
presentation, the speaker reminded his audience of the famous case of the Greek
sage Solon. When Solon wept for the death of his son, one of his students
rebuked him in a way. The weeping, he said, of a sage of his stature was
pointless. Weeping in the presence of death serves no purpose. The sage
replied: “I am weeping precisely because my weeping serves no purpose, not even
to move my own student.”
[10] Father Cuchetti told us on the same occasion
that an unknown voice... He asked on the phone: "Are you going to speak to
the Croatians? But who are these trots? How many are there...?, etc., trying to
get me to give up on giving the conference, insinuating, in the same voice, a
few historical inaccuracies that are repeated only and solely to denigrate us
and discredit the cause for which we fight and die.
This would be the fundamental characteristic of the
East and its civilization, at least politically. Regarding the West, he notes:
"In the presence of opposing political forces, more or less equal, where
none can obtain absolute preponderance over the others, the State can no longer
be a dominion but rather an expression of equilibrium between conflicting
forces. This equilibrium finds its realization in the Law. Each of these forces
seeks to assert its right. These rights, however, despite being in themselves
indeterminate and unlimited, and mutually exclusive, are subject to a balance
by establishing conditions that apply equally to all. This general limit of all
rights, where all are equal, is the Law, which is why the Western State, by
achieving the balance of conflicting rights, is the rule-of-law state par
excellence." See: R. Maričić: Die Krise des Staatsgedankens in
der Gegenwart — The Crisis of the State Today. Rottenburg, 1960, p. 5.
[12] See: Plato, Der Staat, K. Weinbrenner und
Sëhne, Stuttgart, 1949, pp. 10-17, Book One.
[13] F. Maclean, Eastern Approaches, London, 1956,
pp. 322-23. Cited from La Tragedia de Bleiburg, Buenos Aires, 1963, p. 68.
[14] Nicholas Bethell, Op. cit., p. 87.
[15] The insightful Ortega y Gasset had already
said some thought-provoking things about this British decline. Indeed:
"'Tu quoque!' ('You too!' I said to myself,
'England...'" The Spanish philosopher was referring to the inspection of
the letters his children wrote to him from Spain during the last war. "I
didn't care... that the English censors took it upon themselves to commit an
impertinence...; what terrified me was contemplating the impropriety with which
even a nation like England collaborated so thoroughly in the destruction of the
last and smallest remaining right..." Later he comments: "...the
revolutionaries of so-called justice and the authoritarians of so-called order
had already annihilated almost all the law that existed in the world, and now a
country, neither revolutionary nor authoritarian, like England, came to deliver
the final blow to the smallest remnant of it that remained..." See: Ortega
y Gasset: An Interpretation of Universal History, Madrid, 1960, p. 337.
[16] F. Heer, The Faith of
A. Hitler, Munich 1968, p. 171.
[17] The elements loyal to the Soviet political line.
* R. S. is a professor of Sociology at the University of Zagreb. A
Croatian by birth, his intellectual background is Marxist and his
political-national orientation "integralist," meaning he accepts the
Croatian-Serbian political union regardless. He is also one of the Croatian
contributors to the "famous" journal Praxis who remained there with
the Serbian majority until its suppression in February of this year. He stayed
despite the fact that almost all the Croatian contributors had withdrawn from
the newspaper's editorial staff or refused to collaborate since 1971, when Tito
began a spectacular persecution of the Croatian national movement, known as the
"Croatian Spring."
Rudi Supek demonstrates the illusory nature of such self-management,
also pointing out the distortion of socialism in its Stalinist implementation.
Neither Yugoslav self-management nor Stalinism liberates man from his
socio-political alienation. Nor does "bourgeois"
democracy. Leaving aside this ambiguity, R. Supek continues to believe
in the liberating mission of communism. This could be the fundamental reason
why he abandons the scientific field and moves into the "prophetic"
one. Moreover, his position regarding nationalism, especially Croatian
nationalism, lacks seriousness. Serving a utopian idea—so much so that he
became a Yugoslav nationalist of the worst kind—the idea of
"unity and fraternity" between Croats and Serbs, he "does
not see" the suffering of his own Croatian people or ignores it. He
differs from his brother Ivan, who denounces as false the
"universalists" and "progressives" who weep for the fate of
the Vietnamese people and are insensitive to the tragic fate of their own
people. Ivan Supek accepts this idea "of Krleža" and incorporates it
into his actual behavior in the life of the Croatian people, while Rudi, like
"the master" Krleža, continues down a falsely progressive and
"universalist" path, serving both the communist utopia and the Greater
Serbian version of "Yugoslavism," catastrophic in every respect for
the Croatian people.
This essay was published in Praxis, No. 3-4/1971 and reproduced, in a
slightly abridged form, in German in the journal Wissenschaftlicher Dienst
Südosteuropa, pp. 20-31, Munich. We have used this text due to the lack of the
original Croatian. We draw the attention of SC's readers to this text, which we
consider exceptionally important and insightful. (Translator's
note). Translated by fn.
* Z. M. is a young Croatian writer deeply interested in politics,
culture, and social issues from a higher perspective—literary and
philosophical—and who actively participated in the Croatian youth movement from
1969 to 1971, before going into exile in London, where he currently lives,
studies, and writes. This article was published in Croatian (Hrvatska Revija,
1/75, pp. 78–88, Munich-Barcelona).
* Milan Ivelić is a professor of Aesthetics at the Catholic
University in Santiago, Chile. He was born in Chile and is of Croatian origin.