My Images of SEE – 14:17, Mon 8th August

So, this morning my alarm didn’t wake us up at our scheduled time of 08:00. It was my intent to leave early to get to ‘Simeondis’ travel agents for 09:00. However, we slowly crept from our sleep to get ready for going out. Liam was frozen all night, him sleeping under the air-con and all, meant he had a disturbed sleep. I, on the other hand, stirred only once. We departed our hotel at 09:25 and headed west towards Democracy Square. We then turned off down 26^th October Street. I expected the shop to be at the bottom of this street – a good mile away. However the Law Courts, as indicated in my e-mail instructions, appeared to our left. So we crossed over and located our building. A porter indicated, using sign language, the first floor. So we went up. On the door there was a sign – in Greek. It said ‘Simeondis’ on it, but there was no answer. We tried opening it but no luck. Reading a number (and a vague similarity to numbers, a second ‘numeral’ we assumed it opened at 10:00, so we departed. To kill time, we discovered the old city wall. So we walked around the back (behind the Law Courts) via a small park, back to our original destination. The walls were a good 3000 yards from the sea, beating my assumption that they went all the way to the waters edge.

Once 10:00 had been reached, we moved in once more. Again the door remained unanswered and locked. Liam suggested we go up a floor, which we did. Lo and behold, there was the office. I produced my e-mail to the girl on the front desk. She opened her book and saw my name. I noticed it was at the top of the list for the bus that day – talk about forward planning! She took our passports, and gave us a stamped ticket and our passports. We paid €20 each for the one-way coach. It was to depart tomorrow at 17:30 opposite our building.

We then walked back to our hotel room. We rehydrated and applied sun cream before departing again – handing in our room key to the friendly reception man. Liam noticed a fort of the hill yesterday, so we decided to hike it there. So we stuck to a northeasterly route up the hill. We passed a massive open space, in front of what looked like a municipal building, which contained what one could only presume to be Roman/Greek ruins. They were spectacular, especially against the overbearing buildings around us. We then continued.

Above one of the next east/west roads we appeared to be in more residential surroundings. There were still slim and windy streets but the gradient was getting steeper. The housing must have been built mostly in the 1950s or 1970s – depending on the block. All had small balconies and over them had screens for shade. Cars were almost always parked chaotically on the road, especially at junctions. We pressed on.

Only for the local bus going past, to indicate some sense of familiarity in somewhat unfamiliar surroundings, we were best able to predict that we were on the right track. So we pushed on. We then got to a point where a house wasn't built in-between the sandwiched buildings.

The views were superb. It reminded me of images I have seen of Jerusalem – only with a bay; the crisp, turquoise sea glistening in the midday sun. Facing south, we could see east to where the airport was, scanning the bay – with its smattering of sea vessels – across to the tip of the port in the west. To our left was the old city wall, crawling past us, up the hill, to our destination. The Fort.

So we continued on for the last leg of the journey. Once we reached the ‘summit’ we realized it was closed. But I did get the opportunity to buy postcards and fridge magnets. We then went to the door of the tower, which had a decked area. The views were stunning. Now you could see the entire port too. 

 

Directly ahead of us, looking south was the wall striding towards the Rotunda. We could see the small, spiky tower next to the Archaeological Museum we visited yesterday, and the vastness of the Thermaikos Gulf before us. We then retreated back to the town, following the wall south, capturing a glimpse of the Rotunda close up as we went past. 

Its brick was almost sandstone like. Its accompanying tower must have been a later addition. We retraced out steps westwards down Egnatia in search of food. We intended on going ‘local’ out of a street side fast food outlet, but were put off by there being no English to help us make an informed culinary choice. So we walked down the ‘Bond Street’ of Thess, Tsimiski, and back to Aristotle Square. Here we ate at a different establishment, but still soaking up the daytime atmosphere.

Liam then wanted to witness the forum. So we walked up to Archea Agora Square, where we saw a pack of wild dogs snoozing in the shade, and onward to the forum beyond. Another sighting of a vast Roman settlement. A massive plaza in its centre but then tunnels and archways underneath, at its edge. To the right, an amphitheatre where Liam said discussions would have been held. Battling with the heat, we returned to the hotel for 14:00.

Watching some TV, it is interesting to observe how it compares to UK TV – and I do say that it is no competition. A TV show that looks like it is a 1990s repeat does actually seem to be recently made. So I opted for Eurosport – always modern!


It was on this day that I became aware of the depth of history of the city. I had known the regional history, but that it made its appearance in a city, hiding under grass, near the sea, next to more modern buildings, brought home the idea of Thessaloniki having more that what was being presented at first glance.

Since my visit, I have read Mark Mazower's Salonica: City of Ghosts (2004). This book enlightened me so much on the history of the city covering the last 500 years. Given that it rests within a Greek state, this city has been under Byzantine, Ottoman, German and Greek rule, and been targeted for rule by Bulgarians and Serbians. This was already known to me, but the diverse make up of the people that made this walled city was unknown. Most presentations of the city look at the Greek, Turkish or Bulgarian populations that inhabited this city, but lacking in study were the Jews who, up to 1912, were the largest ethnic group in Thessaloniki. The Ladidka is what remains of their physical presence in the centre. This was not only down to the mass slaughter on the city's dwindling population by the Nazi's during the course of World War II; but also because of great many a fire in the city over the years, or economic opportunities elsewhere. These residents and a host of other peoples resided in Thessaloniki over the centuries, ebbing and flowing in numbers as time went on. This book captures the vibrancy of how these people lived, how they were organised, what the customs were, and in what buildings they lived. One of my fascinations is the aesthetic beauty that buildings have, and my curiosity as to the intent of a certain style. At present the Modernist builds project rationality and purpose. But past building had other purposes that may be redundant now yet instead posses that aesthetic beauty somewhat more.

The home of Ataturk, the founder of modern Turkey, had Ottoman as its style, with its characteristic bay window which can still be seen today. On the note of Ataturk, who would now have been born in Greece, it should be remembered that after Greece took over Salonica, he was one of the Turkish generals engaged in the war between Greece and Turkey in 1923 that saw hundreds of thousands displaced. Greeks fled Anatolia, whilst Turks and Muslims fled to Turkey. This meant that by 1929, 75% of the city was now Greek. The Greek nationalising of the city could then begin in earnest.  

And it is this ethnic homogenisation, along with the binary of nationalisation/de-Ottomonization of Thessaloniki, that can be witnessed at present in the architectural and social structures of the city. This is what Maximilian Hartmuth observes in his article in Urban Life and Culture in Southeastern Europe (Roth and Brunnbauer, 2006). This leads on to the wider concepts of national identity, nationalism and citizenship, as categorisations of people, whether objective or subjective, and the processes that these concepts engage in or emanate from. But these will out in further debates. Only to finally say that Thessaloniki is a city that may seem 'modern' in its presentation, and Greek in its identification, but it has 'resided' in numerous states and empires, yet always remained regionally in 'Macedonia' (however one wishes to define its borders) whilst being historically diverse in its populations.

My Images of SEE – 23:04, Sun 7th August

After our brief break we left the hotel once more and headed due south towards the sea. We noticed to our right a small square with numerous restaurants there. It must have been 20:00 yet only a handful of people were in each of the 5 or so establishments. We picked one that had ‘meze’ in its title. 

We sat down to an English menu that our waiter correctly predicted we’d need, and noticed a list of Ouzo. The price was rather steep, but it was interesting to note the wide selection. By 21:20 we had finished. We had a mint-like tasting meatball platter in tomato sauce; a pastry wrapped cheese and tomato roll; a potato, bacon and cheese lasagne-cum-shepard’s pie, and stuffed peppers. All fantastic. We had beer, water and to finish – fresh slices of watermelon. All reasonably priced. Again the street sellers were out, others had musical instruments now.

We then went for a walk along the front to the place where we ate today. The moon sent a shimmering reflection down to the bay water. An ever so light breeze blew, and the locals were out in force. It must be that with the heat so high in the day that the locals only come out at dusk. We reached the square that was now buzzing with life, and sat on high stools at one of the trendier bars. This was indicated by the price of the drinks.

We observed the atmosphere enjoyed by the locals. Some with families, some men on mobiles texting away, a gaggle of girls drinking cocktails and getting chatted up by the barmen. Also an older man swooning over his somewhat younger partner – and the occasional broken glass. After finishing the complimentary nuts and crisps, we headed off back up the hill to our hotel. What a pleasant evening.

This short diary entry is a hangover from the previous one, and just rounds off the first day in Thessaloniki. It does denote my first awareness of the different daily routines that people from alternative climates have, which dictate their work and leisure routines. It also describes the presentation of eastern Mediterranean cuisine – meze/tapas in its delivery, with pastry and meat as their staple. Again, not much more to add only that the area where the square with the restaurants on was the Ladadika. This was actually the old Jewish Quarter up to World War One, and in its small area contained buildings (whether actual or reconstructed) from that time, which made it stand out from the more post World War Two modernist style of the majority of the city.

Thoughts on Gerald Creed's 'Masquerade and Postsocialism: Ritual andCultural Dispossession in Bulgaria'

2014 saw the relaxation of the transition controls that were imposed on Bulgaria after it was accepted into the EU as a mechanism to reduce the number of workers who travelled west seeking employment. Whilst this has been at the forefront of British media and political discourse over the past two months, and with it this notion that large swathes of Bulgarians teeming at the border eager to plant themselves in the UK, this refreshing text enlightens us with the converse notion. Creed returns to the villages of Bulgaria and their remaining residents to observe the annual celebratory events known as kukeri or survakari, and seeks to place them in their new postsocialist, globalised setting.

Kukeri, or mumming as it is known in English, is as striking in its visual display as it is unique in the rituals that it follows in the early months of the New Year. Creed, in his general introductory observations, describes the participants as usually having masks, furs, bells, a staff, and an assortment of other props. A usual celebration lasts a day or two, and starts from the making of the masks or the unpacking of ones from past events. The acts that make up this event consist, in varying order, of a procession, a ritual dance around a fire in an open space in the village, trips to nearby villages or visitors from them to perform together, setting up road blocks for ‘donations’, but all contain a central event – the procession around each of the houses in the village.

Each participant is assigned a different role, and each has their part to play during the proceedings. Even these adhere to village specific protocols. All the participants are traditionally men, their varying roles including the bride, the groom, a priest, an arap or gypsy, a bear and bear tamer, as well as other carnivalesque figures. He describes many visits, ranging from those residents accepting them cheerfully; to those who are obviously not playing the game, to those who lavish food, brandy and paper money or those less able that provide eggs, beans or coins to the guests. Mocking of the people or property through pinching or throwing yard furniture around is to be expected. The perishable booty is then consumed and money counted in the evening. This could be repeated the next day.

What Creed then does is go one to describe in more detail individual rituals but in the context of four themes: Gender and sexuality, civil society and democracy, autonomy and community, and ethnicity and nationalism. On the first, he looks at how gender relations have evolved through socialism and postsocialism, and how the mumming ritual took on or replaced lost symbolic meanings for men as women became more equal. Also, since socialism departed a Western image of homosexuality arrived and began to alter the way in which an all male troupe saw their innocent comradeship, especially centered on the transvestite bride.  Katherine Verdery and Jane Sugarman in their commanding review for the Slavic Review (Vol. 71, No. 1 (SPRING 2012), pp. 135-137) focus on Creed’s analysis of masculinity in this context, and highlight his observation that prior to the transition masculinity was a ‘whole’ and took on many behaviours, but now rested on a continuum whereby being a lesser ‘man’ equates with new ‘feminized’ behaviours. The homogenization of gender and sexuality roles is the consequence of postsocialism. In looking at civil society, he takes umbrage at the West’s perception of what civil society does and what it should look like. Mumming, he argues, has taken on this role, as the state withdrew during the transition, and it either retained or nurtured further relations between villagers and villages. Accepting that civil society can be formal and informal, in its interactions with the state, he sees elements of civil society in mumming that the West tend to ignore because he believes it is seen as a premodern ritual in a supposed modern state (i.e. a representative democracy with a formal civil society); and thus not accepted to be included in such classifications.

In terms of the third theme, he observes the paradoxes of conflict and atomization & community that the rituals express in social relations in the village. On the one hand social relations express conflict – over booty, over who plays what roles, between the performers and the villagers in their homes, or between rival groups. But it also showcases unity – in the face of ‘outsiders’ such as other village troupes, arguments between families actually underscore their unity as a ‘village’ through the autonomy and interdependence of households. Finally, in addressing ethnicity and nationalism, he looks at the character of the gypsy in the mumming ritual along side the inclusion of Roma in the events themselves. Although inclusion was ambivalent with racism still present, mumming allowed Roma to participate because indigenous Roma (according to the villagers) were ‘their’ Roma. However, the threat to inclusion was always from those who returned and never interacted with the Roma on a daily basis, anchored in ethnic Bulgarian feelings of national inferiority. And so Creed ends by mourning the modernizing trends in mumming ritual and appearance, as a result of the transition from socialism and the penetration of Euro-American norms.

Creed’s text does provide a provocative insight into one cultural event that Bulgarian’s enact by weaving it into a polemic on the legacies of socialism, the ‘transition’ and the difficulties of postsocialism for the ‘village’ and villagers. But by describing mumming as ‘modernity in drag’ he does perhaps pine too much for what he sees as a ritual that had better days before it, and perhaps even under socialism. But he does this not from a rose tinted view of the ‘golden age of mumming’, but more as a critique of how Western imaginings, assumptions and concepts have altered the symbolism and meanings the rituals had as they were carried out by the mummers. I would argue though that the cultural value of the ritual must still be worth something if villagers continue to practice it, even if it has ‘modernised’ in its attempt to be more Western. And this chimes with Creed’s pursuit to account for the increase in the practice of mumming. The fact that the celebration takes place owes much to the value it has to the participants and the observers, many who travel home to witness it, despite the overarching postsocialist and neoliberal challenges to it from outside ‘the village’.

My Images of SEE – 17:37, Sun 7th August

To add a more personal flavour to this blog, I thought I would share with you the diary I kept when I travelled around South-East Europe in August 2011. The accounts span from part of a day or up to a day and half, depending on when I was able to sit and write. I will provide the mainly unaltered diary entry italicized, then add my current thoughts on that trip along with views garnered from readings undertaken since my MA studies; as well as some pictures of my trip. This first entry details my departure from the UK and my arrival to Thessaloniki, but I will leave this one without comment. I travelled with my partner of the time, but I have changed his name for this purpose. Enjoy.

Today is the first day of this mammoth trip that I am about to undertake, along with Liam. I will write this at the specified time, but will begin where I previously left off. However this being the first day, I should begin at the start.

I awoke at 2:07 this morning, and hour before my wake up alarm. I blame it both on the worry of sleeping in, and the apprehension of taking this trip. I wished away the minutes to 3:15 then promptly woke Liam up.

We showered, changed, received a call from the taxi firm, then had a quick brew before being whisked away to Gatwick Airport. We found our area to check in, but had to cart our backpacks to a separate location, as they couldn’t go down the normal conveyor belts. We then marched to security and swiftly got through. I needed to buy cough/chest mixture, so did so at the Boots store.

After that the boards showed our departure gate so we briskly walked the 15 minutes route to arrive there. We had a snack from Costa Coffee whilst waiting.

Within 20 minutes people were queuing up as a steward showed movement – so like sheep we obligingly followed. I notified the world via Facebook of my growing nerves about the flight.

We slowly and surely began moving. We got on to the plane, a larger on from EasyJet than I’m used to but still not massive. I luckily had my preferred seat on the last row.

Take off was fine, although I still had to show fear. We dozed off for an hour or so during the beginning of the flight. We then emerged out of our snoozing, and I decided to read the Lord of the Rings that I had brought with me. In between doing this, I kept peering out of the window with Liam as we passed over Montenegro.

The pilot then informed us that we would be passing over Tirana shortly, then begin our descent.

30 minutes later we circled the Bay, at which Thessaloniki was its head, then landed smoothly. We then piled into busses to get to the terminal to collect our bags. The weather was clear, a slight breeze but a glorious temperature. It was now 11:10 local time.

Inside the baggage hall, Liam struck gold with his bag coming out first. However a moment of panic gripped me, as mine wasn’t to be seen. So I went closer to the entry point and I could see it at the bottom of the pile waiting to get out. 5 minutes later I was reunited with it.

We then left the departure area looking for signs for a bus to the city, we followed what we found, and saw a two-piece ‘bendy bus’. I asked the driver, slowly, how much. He explained in easy English that I get a ticket out of a blue machine in the back – a choice of two. I directed Liam to the farthest door, so I took the second farthest to buy us both a ticket.

Two Euro’s later and a validation stamp meant that we had paid our way into town on this packed bus. However, armed with only a tightly focused map of the hotel, and an impression that the bus would go down the main boulevard ‘Egnatia’, I hoped a park or name would be familiar. After reaching a small, local bus station, we realized we’d gone too far. I stood up as if ready for the next stop but people were still on the bus from the airport; so again, following others (locals I assumed, too), we stayed on until the end. This happened to be the KTEL bus station. What looked like a run down domed cathedral/ice rink was in fact the transnational bus station. We could either try our luck on the 78 again, or get a taxi. Liam opted for the second option.

So I pointed out to the taxi driver the name and address on my map. He took us back the way we came and dropped us off outside ‘a’ hotel, just not ours. As we walked in another direction, he exclaimed “that is your hotel”. Not keen on offending him, we did the British thing and went to the door of the hotel, waited until he drove off, then walked to where our hotel really was – 50 yards away on the other side of the Egnatia.

A few comments on the first impressions of Thessaloniki. As we drove through on the bus going north, you could instantly tell that the recession and current financial turmoil was having its effects. Closed forecourts, empty buildings and a quiet feel of a loss of hope. We drove past a very ‘western’ shopping park towards the town proper. Upon entering its eastern city limits, you could tell it was the area of low socio-economic residents. Unkempt gardens, rubbish patterned about the place, and a lower standard of shops and services.

Once we started approaching the city centre the content of the shops, or people outside, changed somewhat, but the general ‘untidiness’ remained. Graffiti is widespread, as is the case with most European, continental countries. When we bypassed the city centre, the malaise I could sense drifted back – epitomized by the bus station I previously mentioned. The city didn’t seem alive, although I do concede that it is a Sunday. Maybe it will spring to life tomorrow.

This general feel for the city so far, although not disappointing but also not awe inspiring either, reflected my impressions of the hotel. Upon entering we were warmly greeted by a young Greek who spoke great English. He gave us our key to our room, took my passport to make a copy, and kindly highlighted a map for us to some café’s for food.

Entering the room was akin to stepping into an Agatha Christie tele-movie starring Poirot! The best word to describe it is quaint. Neoclassical style décor with tiled flooring and an old fashioned rug struck jarringly against the 14” LCD TV. However it looked comfy and had air-con. After refreshing, we departed a light lighter, grabbing my passport on the way.

We walked the 10 minutes to Aristotle Square then down to the front. We found a café with fans so sat down and ordered two salads, beer, Cola and water. All this gave us a second wind. One thing that I can see will be a regular annoyance is the street sellers. 4 times we were disturbed whilst eating. Their wares are fake DVDs and jewelry; the sellers of black ethnicity and possibly north African descent (as I don’t know the accents).

We walked eastward along the front to the White Tower. A beautiful sand-like coloured tower, some 40-50 meters tall and the same distance from the sea. We walked around and tried to get in, but as it was 14:55 we were denied entry as closing was 15:00. So we wandered back to a Starbucks we saw for a light, cool relief. Again, the street sellers were out in force.

We walked north-east from there for 10 minutes to the Archaeological Museum. €6 each and Liam was in his glory. Lots of pots, tools, jewelry, sculptures, sarcophagi, grave stones, and more reflecting 8 centuries of Macedonian culture from 4^th century B.C. It was all very educational – especially the technological side to the experience.

We departed there heading north-west to Egnatia, where we came across the Arch, and further up the hill, the Rotunda. The Arch is not that impressive size wise, but its carvings were excellent. A little tired, we walked back to the hotel for a short rest.

The ‘nationalism’ question in Communist states

Given the vast number of states that had Communist regimes during the 20^th century, this post will aim to compare the approaches to dealing with nationalism in the former Soviet Union and former Yugoslavia, during the early life of those regimes. In doing so, I will initially define terms such as ‘nationalism’, ‘nationality’ and the ‘nation’, using views expressed by leading scholars, and those held by leading Communists. This will enable me to link communism to nationalism as an ideology, and show how Communists understood the concepts of nation, nationalism and nationalities. I can then consider why Communists needed such definitions to enable them to establish their respective regimes, and to claim their legitimacy.

I will begin by comparing the various ways that the two regimes structured their societies and the functions that operated within it. I will look at the concept of self-determination, and judge whether these regimes followed the various components of what constitutes a nation, and to reflect on whether these considerations were met. I avoid commenting on whether the demise of these two states in the 1980’s and 1990’s stemmed from these policies, as it would be unfair not to include the other numerous factors that were involved in these processes that this post will not cover. I will finish by evaluating whether communism did indeed ‘deal’ with nationalism.

In order to understand nationalism, one must first look at the related notion of the nation. Both the nation and nationalism are modern phenomena, which both ethno-symbolist and modernist scholars on nationalism agree on (Smith, Gellner, Hobsbawm). Anthony Smith (The Ethnic Origins of Nations, 1988) begrudgingly accepts that nations can be modern, however he believes that there were ethnies prior to modernity, which had 6 characteristics, and contributed to the formation of modern nations and established lines of continuity. However his overall view implies that ethnies are somewhat rigid and bounded in structure and have not merged or split over time, which ties in to Ernest Gellner’s criticism (Nations and Nationalism, 2006). In the reverse of Smith’s argument, Gellner acknowledges that groups and cultures have always existed, but that over time they have had either firm and/or fluid boundaries. Modern nations however grew out of the radically altered social conditions that existed in the latter 18^th and early 19^th centuries that homogenized certain elements of pre-existing high cultures, aided by education, leading to the only unit that humans could identify with. These nations were therefore inventions, or social constructs, in the era of modernity. Albeit two conflicting arguments, there is common ground in both. Therefore I will employ Smith’s definition of an ethnie (An ethnie needs a name, common myth of descent, a shared history, a distinct shared culture, an association with a territory and a sense of solidarity) as a basis for a ‘nation’, and relate to Gellner’s idea that modern nations were created only because a certain set of conditions were reached, when analyzing the two states that are the focus of this post.

To define nationalism, I return to Gellner whose view it is that ‘Nationalism is primarily a political principle, which holds that the political and national unit should be congruent.’ Smith also agrees with this aspirational tone as the aim of nationalism, and concedes that today’s nation-states rarely have congruent lines. Eric Hobsbawm (Nations and nationalism since 1780: Programme, myth, reality. 1991) also agrees with Gellner on his interpretation of nationalism, and adds that this principle is the bond between the people and the polity, and overrides all other obligations. I will return to this theme of legitimacy later on. But both agree that nationalism came before the nation, or as Hobsbawm puts it ‘Nations do not make states and nationalisms but the other way around.’ It is this view that I align myself with, and hope to highlight during this post, in that states used nationalism as a vehicle for political legitimacy, and created nations. However, the boundaries of such terms as the ‘nation’ or ‘state’ will be picked up later.

Finally nationality, or national identity, can be described as identification with the nation-state or nation.  This can be how individuals describe themselves, or have it bestowed on to them as an individual. The different applications of this term will be evident in the rest of this post.

Having now defined the terms that I will use in this essay, I can now look to how communism viewed nationalism. Given that all attempts at creating Communist states have all tried to apply the theories of Karl Marx and Frederick Engels, I will look to the Communist Manifesto for reference. In the founding document of communism, it states:

            ‘The working men have no country. We cannot take from them what they have not got. Since the proletariat must first of all acquire political supremacy, must rise to be the leading class of the nation, must constitute itself as the nation, it is, so far, itself national, though not in the bourgeois sense of the word.’ (The Communist Manifesto 1848)

In essence, although the prime aim of communism was the abolition of countries, Mark and Engels believed that the working class must achieve political power within countries, thus to constitute the ‘nation’ itself. They go on to argue that although capitalism is already dissolving national differences, communism would achieve it faster. Imperialism of one nation over another would disappear, as exploitation of one man over another does.

The fundamental difference here is that communism sees nations only as vehicles on the route to communism, because embodied in the state is political power to achieve its ends; and ultimately it is internationalist as there would be no class differences or antagonisms. Nationalism on the contrary defines itself within borders, sets out to create differences from other groups so that it can ultimately wield political power over a nation within a state – thus create a nation-state. But my main focus is not on the ends but the means to reaching communism. The use of the nation and boundaries, for the proletariat to ascend to power, features heavily in the practice of communism.

One of the leading figures on nationalism in the USSR was Joseph Stalin, who in the early years of the Soviet Union was the Commissar for the Nationalities. In 1913 he developed his own definition of the nation. He explained that a ‘nation is a historically evolved, stable community of language, territory, economic life, and psychological make-up manifested in a community of culture.’ (Marxism and the National and Colonial Question, 1935). His argument reflected the later views of Gellner when he wrote that nations belong ‘to a definite epoch, the epoch of rising capitalism.’ Thus Stalin laid the foundations for two similar future scholars. He preceeded Smith by defining characteristics of a nation, though not correlating exactly with the categorizations he used, but also accepted that the nation only arose out of industrialization.  

As for Yugoslavia, Josip Tito in 1941 co-wrote a resolution of the fifth conference of the Communist Party of Yugoslavia, (The Party of the Revolution, 1980) which contained a section on ‘the struggle of national equality and freedom’. Instead of theoretical points he makes practical ones, focusing on the need for self-determination for the Macedonians, Albanians and other minorities from enemies both outside and inside Yugoslavia. Stalin also wrote on this point of self-determination, by allowing a nation to determine its own future. This can be seen in the state systems in the former USSR and former Yugoslavia.

The USSR was the first Communist country in the world therefore it did not have a country to look to for establishing its system, but it did have a legacy to deal with from the Russian Empire. Self-determination was the key to ensuring that the former empire, and all its nations, stayed within the new Soviet Union. Albeit it in opposition to the internationalist stance of communism, this approach was seen as necessary for it would promote further revolution. Walker Connor (The National Question in Marxist-Leninist Theory and Strategy, 1984) takes a less theoretical and a more political stance on the context within which this policy developed. He believes that this policy was necessary because of several factors, mostly relating to internal political consolidation, and to ward off external threats. However, Connor points out that a change of heart soon came about and that socialism, or the unification of the working class, was re-established as the ultimate goal, so a proviso was added to statements regarding secession. However, the ‘working men of the world now had a country’.

Socialist Yugoslavia, on the other hand, formed after World War Two, when it had the experience of being united under a monarch, even if dismembered by the Axis powers. Prior to the war, the political discourse revolved around the structure of the state, and the balance of power between a strong centralized centre, and a loose confederal system, typified by the Serbs arguing for the former, and the Croats the latter. This power issue was linked to the desire for political control over territorial boundaries that existed within the state. It also had the legacy of being split by two former dominant empires, the Habsburg and Ottoman, along with all their cultural, social, political and economic baggage. The paradox here though was that at the time, the notion of one Yugoslav nation was preeminent. The idea of self-determination was a recruiting tool Tito used for his Partisan forces, attracting, notably, the Serbs domiciled within the Croatian republic borders, but also those residing in Bosnia-Herzegovina. The use of ‘Yugoslav’ as a tool for mobilization, however, was omitted, and the national name of the audience being addressed was used.

From the start of Tito’s rule then, we can see that there were many obstacles to overcome when navigating the troubled waters of nationality and the nations. Tito opted for a federal state structure with which to deliver his socialist utopia. Silvo Devetak (The Equality of Nations and Nationalities in Yugoslavia, 1988) details five spheres of social relations that were regulated in Yugoslavia between the nations and nationalities. The legal, constitutional and institutional apparatus was the first of these. It followed strict rules in ensuring that the nations and nationalities were represented fairly and equally. They were allowed to express their cultural and linguistic differences, but also to interact with the state in their own tongue. Socio-economic considerations were met with targeted funds to those areas deemed ‘backwards’, for fear of dissent from the local nation that may raise national sentiments. The educational system was used to foster friendship and mutual understanding, but this was applied, and could only be effective, in the more diverse areas. Socio-political organizations were set up to get gather different groups together, and tried to be as broad as possible, such as the Socialist Youth League. Finally, the penal system outlawed the practice of national inequality and hatred. It was the exercise of the last point that was visible when Tito purged the Croatian party in the 1970’s.

Parallel to this was the structural issue of territorial boundaries. The ambiguity in the constitution arose around who had the right to self-determination. If one decided that the republics were the boundaries, then it would justify a claim by a nation to a ‘state’. However, if you invested in the nation the power for self-determination, then the lines are less clear. Therefore the system that operated in Yugoslavia institutionalized the differences between the nations, but also tried to blur the boundaries between the nation and republic. Through the use of nationalities within the republics and the guarantee of equality, they aimed to eliminate the desire for nations to seek assurances from a ‘mother’ nation, or in Bosnia-Herzegovina’s case, to be split by there being no majority nation.

In the USSR, although workingmen now had a country, to govern it, the Communists had to wear some of the nationalist’s clothes. Self-determination was still the language of the Communists, but the application of it was somewhat different and varied. Martin McCauley (The Soviet Union 1917-1991, 1993) points to the strategy of korenizatsiya that allowed for the establishment of local institutions to be run by indigenous people. This would give the air of legitimacy to the regime, so that it wouldn’t be seen to be imperialist; yet carry out the diktats of the Party arriving from Moscow. A federal system of national and regional autonomous areas was therefore established. The original intent of Lenin and Stalin was that nations could determine their own future, on the assumption that if they chose to leave, then their bourgeois revolution would then lead to a socialist one and a return to the Soviet fold.

However, as McCauley points out, there were many obstacles here too. Firstly, there was only a limited proletariat in the Soviet Union, and it was its geographical fringes that lacked the education and skills to develop one. This led to increased Russian labour migration to these areas assigned for industrialization. An example of the rise in nationalism came via collectivization when the Ukrainians opposed this move in the 1930s. Secondly, the Communist Party itself was significantly made up of Russian members. A drive was initiated to increase non-Russian numbers, but subsequent purges led to their numbers dropping again. Thirdly, the use of local languages was enshrined in law, however there were disparities between those local speakers of languages, and those elites who were readers and writers of those indigenous or other languages. However, the Communist Party had its impact on this too, and in certain areas one language was favoured more than others, or the authorities would change between Latin, Cyrillic or Arabic scripts, dependent on its objectives in that nation; an example being the imposition of the Cyrillic alphabet onto an original Latin text Moldavian language. Thus ‘Great Russian chauvinism’ quietly crept back into fashion, and at the same time standardized ‘national’ languages were codified.

These points by McCauley illustrate that ‘Leninist nationality policy deliberately promoted the formation of nations and the development of national languages and cultures. It was believed that these new nations would be socialist-orientated and would therefore support the building of socialism in the Soviet Union.’ Therefore Stalin’s characteristics of the nation, reflective of Smith’s, were used to bestow onto people a national identity and with that, a polity of Communists to govern the newly demarcated autonomous republics. These boundaries were sometimes arbitrary and some often created for political reasons, but given legitimacy because of state backing.

To conclude, the Communist states had a theoretical base upon which to assume that with the transition to socialism, nationalism would cease to exist. However, as realities hit those Communist leaders in the first decades when establishing their power, they had to go some way towards the goal of nationalism by providing for territorial borders for nations, and also creating new nations within borders they established. Smith’s ethnie is evident here in that Communist states couldn’t start from a blank page, but had recent historical/cultural baggage to deal with, so even the creation of a new ‘Soviet’ or ‘Yugoslav’ identity was a big task. Gellner’s view of nations being created in the context of certain circumstances is reflected by the fact that Communists sought to speed up industrialization and thus negatively gave a hand to developing nationalism.

Self-determination is a key idea that the two states shared. Through their employment of it they ensured that local leaders were loyal to the Party as opposed to their nation, allowing for the effective governing of those states. In Yugoslavia this was ambiguous as there were boundaries of the nation and similarly boundaries to the republics, and nationality was often fluid. In the USSR, boundaries were fixed and often drawn up to ensure it contained sizeable non-national groups, and nationality was determined at birth. Both of these methods sought to establish political control, as reflected on by Hobsbawm previously, and therefore needed nations and nationalities to rationally organize their societies; but in doing so they became exposed to nationalism. In short, communism couldn’t ‘deal’ with nationalism but instead it had to embrace it.

Thoughts on Branka Magaš' 'The Destruction of Yugoslavia: Tracking the Break-up 1980-92'

Deftly avoiding the western media’s, some academics, and some historians, portrayal of the reasons for the collapse of the second Yugoslavia and the wars that followed, Magaš provides an ‘insider account’ which details the events as they occurred in the 1980s and early 1990s.

Magaš charts in ‘real time’ the course of events during the 80s and early 90s with snippets of political and historical context that allows you to comprehend how she came to some conclusions on the actions that led to a notable events in this period. This may come across as somewhat repetitive as you near the end of the book, but understanding that this book’s writing was not a fixed event with the benefit of hindsight, but a commentary on events as they happened, explains her style. Thus she doesn’t resort to explanations of the current collapse of the State, Party, and descent into war on a return to ‘ancient hatreds’ or ‘unsettled scores’; but points to the immediate causal chain of events to set the ‘present’ event in context.

Focus of the book falls on the nature of relations between many actors, processes and events; the League of Communists of Yugoslavia (LCY) and the state; the federal LCY party and the republican and provincial LCY parties; democratizing forces and orthodox Stalinist zealots; economic reform and adherence to self-management; the ‘Memorandum’ and the 14^th Party conference; and calls for decentralization and recentralization.

It is this latter tussle between centrifugal and centripetal forces and actors advocating these positions that provides the central theme in the text. This originates from the 1974 constitution in a political/legal manner regarding the distribution of power (in a post-Tito world), and the reactions of the federal and republican LCY parties and state bodies to the growing economic instability in the 1980s. However, Magaš places emphasis on Kosovo as the arena in which the post-Tito consensus began to waver. Disturbances in the region due to socio-economic factors, brought with it calls for martial law, and later calls for repatriation of the Autonomous Province’s powers, to the Serbian republican centre. Latterly, most Western blame lies on the doorstep of Slobodan Milosevic, and Magaš provides enough illustration later on in the 80s as to why he is largely the actor who is responsible; but at this moment it is the Serbian Academy of Arts and Sciences and the leaking of their infamous ‘Memorandum’ which draws her ire. 

Nationality and the ‘national’ question only come into play after this event in official political discourse. This event witnesses a chasm appearing, eventually turning into a gulf, between official federal LCY ideology epitomized by ‘Brotherhood and Unity’, and the Serbian party’s increasing nationalist rhetoric backed by its local media. Stambolic’s fall symbolizes the latter’s eventual take over and is parallel to the accession of Milosevic to power.

The arena of Kosovo and the linchpin of the Memorandum fused and led to the events that we are familiar with – the fall of republic and provincial LCY party leaders in three eastern regions, the centralization attempt of Milosevic at the federal LCY level, the counter response by Croatia and Slovenia to thwart this attempt, the deepening economic stagnation, and finally the collapse of the LCY after the Slovenes walked out of the 14^th Party congress. This final act, and the observation that the Party held the second Yugoslavia together, saw the Federal idea diminish. What then occurred was an acceleration of the centralizing forces of the Serb leadership (evolving onto calls for a ‘Greater Serbia’) being juxtaposed to the loose confederation idea espoused by Croatia, Slovenia, tentatively backed by Macedonia and Bosnia & Herzegovina. However, the former idea took the view of uniting all Serbs whilst discrediting the idea that republican borders were inviolable. The other republics saw them as such. On top of this was the role of the Army. If Yugoslavia ceased to exist, so would the Federal Army. They had a stake in the future of the state, and thus sided more with Milosevic in order preserve the external borders of Yugoslavia. Yet, not even a short war with Slovenia could prevent this. So the Army, with a lot of its officer corps being Serbian, backed Milosevic and the Greater Serb idea, as their preferred option was now redundant. Croatia was its next focus.

You can see Magaš’ tone change in the course of the text; initially it is the Party that needs to work together internally to ensure the return of economic and national stability. Yet as bureaucratic machinations prevented the effective functioning of the LCY (and thus the state) she comes to see that the Party is then the problem; and without economic reform and a democratic Federal Yugoslavia, she predicts that the state would collapse. The constant underlying anti-Albanian rhetoric from the Serbian leadership acts as the kindle for the future fire.

Magaš delivers a text that looks at the power struggles at the bureaucratic and elite levels, and the actors that interact with them, such as the media, at this level. With this in mind, it seems to suggest that nationality and the exploitation of socio-economic conditions were mere tools for certain actors to pursue their goals. And this relates back to the theme of a clash between centrifugal and centripetal forces. However, with this as the dominant theme of the text, its does not investigate from an anthropological perspective the events, actors and processes that either informed this clash or were in contradiction to it. An example would be that she looks at how national tensions were used by certain republican leaders (and tried to be quelled by federal leaders), but it doesn’t seek to inform us whether this debate was being had at the village or town level, or if national tensions were present prior to such inflammation at the republic/federal level. In saying that though, extensive attention was paid to family living standards decreasing in the 80s, with focus early on in the text looking at the non-nationalist actors who were agitating in the spirit of ‘Brotherhood and Unity’. But this reinforces my critique that only those who were organized received any attention, so one could assume that the rest of the population were either ignored or lazily assumed to have ‘followed’ their co-national ‘leaders’. Overall, its power is in the descriptive observation of the collapse of the LCY and the second Yugoslavia, from a bureaucratic and elite level; providing a refreshing ‘event by event’ analysis detailing the causal chain context prior to each event and its possible implications in the future.

The dissolution of the Yugoslav polity – Thoughts on its demise

The question of the dissolution of the Yugoslav polity has led to varieties of theoretical explanations. These explanations vary from legacies of the former Imperial empires and the clash of civilizations, the incompatibility of the separate nations’ ideological goals during the 19^th and early 20^th centuries, aspects of the Socialist structure of the second Yugoslav state, and the impact of intervention by foreign powers. However, I will focus on the actions of certain social and political actors within Yugoslavia during its demise, beginning in the 1980s - not because the other periods are unimportant, but because this decade immediately predates the collapse, and thus must witness certain events and actors that played a central role to its demise.

To investigate this I will initially provide a brief description of the events and battle of ideas that occurred in the 1970s and early 1980s. This will provide a context within which to view the events that occurred from the early 1980s onwards. Two political actors will receive particular attention, Slobodan Milošević and Milan Kučan, as these were the two significant individuals who led Serbian and Slovene political elites, respectively; and contributed to the tumultuous political discourse of the late 1980s and early 1990s. I will look at the intelligentsias of Serbia and Slovenia and their relationship to the rise and backing of more nationalist movements in their respective republics. I will also pay attention to the leaking and content of the ‘Memorandum’ of the Serbian Academy of Arts and Sciences and the final extraordinary League of Communists of Yugoslavia (LCY) in 1990 as two events that spurred the dissolution of Yugoslavia.

In 1974 the new constitution of Socialist Yugoslavia was enacted that shifted power from the centre to the republics, appeasing some of the demands that Croatia and Slovenia had been requesting in the previous years in regards to decentralization. It proclaimed Josip Broz Tito as president for life and codified Kosovo and Vojvodina’s position as autonomous provinces from Serbia. Once Tito died in May 1980, the 9-member Federal Presidency governed Yugoslavia. Rajko Muršič (in Halpern & Kideckel’s Neighbours at War, 2000) believes that the socialist revolution and federal constitution, along with Tito, were what kept the country together and that ‘As long as enough ordinary people acted as believers in self-management, one of the bases of support for the second Yugoslavia was affirmed. But when this confidence was lost…then questions about the pre-existing Federal Constitution inevitably came to the fore.’

Although a fatalist statement in its suggestion of inevitability, it does highlight the dominance of the League of Communists in the political life of Yugoslavia. Yet, the other party concept of ‘Brotherhood and Unity’ had pressure exerted on it from events in Kosovo, according to Muršič, and I believe can be viewed as one departure point for the dissolution of Yugoslavia. A shift in demographics in the region over the decades since the establishment of Socialist Yugoslavia produced a commanding Albanian majority that left the Kosovan Serbs feeling sidelined by the local political apparatus, as Albanians took up the party positions, and thus began to agitate. This unrest was seen as a test of both ‘Brotherhood and Unity’ in post-Tito Yugoslavia and the Party itself.

Michael Palairet (in Cohen & Dragovic-Soso, State collapse in South-Eastern Europe, 2008) describes the economic situation in the 1980s as dire for the Socialist planned economic system that led to a test of its durability. From this emerged a shift in the debate about reinvigorating economic growth from one of funding an investment cycle by making those idle performers more efficient in a Yugoslav context, to one which charged the republics of finding their own way towards growth. This was viewed through the debate on the 1974 constitution over decentralization.  The excuse each republic used to justify their own misfortune was that of exploitation by the other republics. This led to resentment between the northwest republics and the southeast ones over distribution of federal funds.

A picture of the early 1980s can be characterized as being in flux with regards to political, economic and ethnic tensions and rivalries, which the federal system and LCY had to balance. The issue of decentralization re-emerged as different actors came to the fore to achieve their preferred remedy for the Yugoslav malaise.

The ‘Memorandum’ of the Serbian Academy of Arts and Sciences (SANU) was leaked to Večernje novosti in September 1986, and is the first event that led to the start of the renewed public interest in nationalist rhetoric that involved Serbia’s intellectual elite. It was seen as a document that reified already held nationalist beliefs, criticizing the state of the economy and decentralization. But Dr. Jasna Dragovic-Soso (Saviours of the Nation, 2002) sees it as a relatively conservative programme – one that harks back to the golden age of the 1960s. Its content chimed with the already developed notion of national victimhood suffered by the Serbs, epitomized by the loss of control over Kosovo. It blamed Slovenia and Croatia for wanting to maintain the status quo – and thus Serbia’s inferior position in Yugoslavia’s institutions. The ‘Memorandum’ didn’t advocate violence nor call for a greater Serbia but called for a revision of the 1974 constitution to re-establish federalism over decentralization.

Nick Miller (in Cohen & Dragovic-Soso, State collapse in South-Eastern Europe, 2008) believes the issue of Kosovo cemented the intelligentsia’s union with nationalism, with the ‘Memorandum’ acting as one of those events that highlighted this. Dragovic-Soso agrees and feels the Serbian intelligentsia turned towards a more national than civil cause, especially because of Kosovo. Stuart Kaufman (Modern Hatreds, 2001) sums up the importance of the ‘Memorandum’ by stating that ‘The fact that the respected Academy made such charges gave them a weight in public opinion that protestors in Kosovo lacked.’ However, Miller argues that ‘Their movement did not become political until a political figure emerged who would…embrace the picture that the intellectuals had created; Slobodan Milošević did this.’ Yet one must recognize that the document came first and Milošević ran with many of its ideas afterwards. However, Kosovo provided a link between the ‘Memorandum’ and Slobodan Milošević, and would later fashion an alliance between him and the Serbian intelligentsia.

There are two ways in which to view the development and progress of Slobodan Milošević in Yugoslav political life. One is that he had a set plan with goals to reach, and the other is a populist who saw emerging issues and took a lead on them. Sabrina Ramet (Nationalism and Federalism in Yugoslavia, 1962 – 1991) felt that he had a four-stage plan. First was to establish control in Serbia, along with a ‘cult of personality’. Second was to reassert control over Vojvodina and Kosovo. He then sought to recentralize the state apparatus and reduce the powers of the 6 republics. Only then was he going to enact dubious ‘controlled democratization’ whilst consolidating political control for himself. The extent to which this was ‘a plan’ needs more research and questioning on events and conversations to uphold these claims, yet one can accept that the first two steps were achieved.

So how did he achieve the first two ‘goals’? His career in the LCY saw him aligned with Ivan Stambolić, which earned him the accolade of being the future Serbian President’s ‘right-hand man’. However, in April 1987 Stambolić sent Milošević to Kosovo to meet Party delegates there because of the unrest. At the supposed closed meeting, thousands of Serbs and Montenegrins converged on the meeting, and were beaten back by police. In reaction to this, Milošević went out and uttered the infamous words that Ramet felt ‘assured Milošević of a place in Serbian mythology. Bette Denich (in Halpern & Kideckel’s Neighbours at War, 2000) places a lot of emphasis on the importance of the visit to Kosovo by Milošević. ‘That moment transformed Milošević from a Party bureaucrat into a mass leader.’ Months later, he made a decisive move and ousted his former mentor so he then commanded the Serbian party. Denich also believes that the mass public in Serbia was fed the image that Milošević was their natural leader, standing up for Kosovo, against the rigid bureaucratic establishment, with apparent popular support. The importance of this event led to a strengthening of his image in Serbia proper, and highlighted his ability to manipulate the Party machinery to his advantage.

What followed was the reassertion political control over the autonomous provinces. He had been leading on the Kosovo issue almost as a civil rights issue on the side of the Kosovan Serbs, but then sidestepped to be seen to take on the ‘establishment’. The ‘anti bureaucratic revolution’ was Milošević’s attempt to recentralize power in Serbia through ‘unity’, harking back to Titoist ‘Federalism’ via mass demonstrations. His campaign achieved the results that he desired and his allies were installed in Vojvodina, Kosovo and Montenegro. On a constitutional level this was important as he could now rely on the support of 4 republics or provinces out of 8 with votes at the federal level. These processes wedded Milošević and the Serbian intelligentsia together. It instilled in the intelligentsia the idea that change was on the horizon, by combating the old guard of the LCY, yet have one of its members at the helm, i.e. Milošević, as the head of state. He tied it to the Kosovo issue and became outspoken on it. Dragovic–Soso believed it was this union that led the intelligentsia into the arms of Milošević.

Meanwhile, the Slovenian intelligentsia took a different approach to the Yugoslav state, and observed the Serbian developments with unease. The Slovenian intelligentsia grew out of the political and economic context of the early 1980s. It created an ‘Alternative Scene’, one more academic and cultural that gathered around various civil rights type issues. Dragovic–Soso believed that they centered on the notion of ‘Central Europe’ that ‘became the symbol of Slovenia’s national revival, with the Yugoslav ‘Balkans’ replacing ‘Asiatic’ Russia as the alien ‘Other’.’ With this in mind, during that period Slovenia viewed the crisis in Kosovo as a human rights issue on the side of the Albanians, which infuriated the Serbs in Kosovo.

This renewed friction between Serbian and Slovenian intelligentsias started in 1988 when the Serb political elite approached the Slovenes to agree to party reform. Slovenes said no and consequently criticized the Serb leadership. This led to an economic boycott of Slovene products. This then led to elements of the Slovene intelligentsia becoming involved in the Kosovo dispute by criticizing Army deployment there. A dispute followed between the Serb and Slovene Writer’s Associations leading to a declaration by the Slovene political leadership regarding the republics right to self-determination and its right to get involved with Kosovo. Serbia then promised to send the ‘anti-bureaucratic’ movement to Ljubljana but this was thwarted.

Therefore during the 1980s, two groups of intellectual elites in Yugoslavia didn’t come together to ensure that Yugoslavia remained united yet reformed its ways, but instead they retreated to within their respective republican borders and came to loggerheads on the question of self-determination. Slovenia wanted further decentralization for a move towards a more ‘Western’ and democratic path. It was willing to take Yugoslavia in this direction, but resistance was coming from Serbia who wanted to recentralize. Nevertheless, Slovenia’s developing democratization created a space within which to strength its civil society, one that expressed its opinions via cultural and social movements, which were ‘outside of the system’ thus neutering a more overt or dangerous nationalist one. ‘With the arrival of Slobodan Milošević on the Serbian political scene, however, recentralization became associated with Serb nationalism and Serbian interests.’ according to Ramet.

Milan Kučan was the person who took Slovenia on the path of democratization and nourished the new cultural expressions that were taking place, yet remained an LCY politician and leader. Kučan’s ability to hold on to the support of the intelligentsia, even to sacrifice Communist rule, showed his ‘common ground’ approach, according to Miller. The trial of journalists writing for Mladina magazine by a military tribunal in Serbo-Croatian emphasized the injustice of Slovene membership in Yugoslavia, characterized by Serb hegemony. The ‘Mladina affair’ united the Slovene people against Belgrade’s interference in internal matters and Kučan defended the rallies that followed. Although as this point his stance was not for independence, he was to play a crucial role in Yugoslavia’s demise.

And this is where I return to the point mentioned earlier regarding the dominance of the LCY in the life of the second Yugoslavia. The several pillars that provided legitimacy for the LCY had taken a knock, for example ‘Brotherhood and Unity’ and ‘Democratic Centralism’. The weakening economic situation had a severe effect on the citizenry, who now questioned the legitimacy of the regime because so long as living standards rose, political rights weren’t requested –this  was now being undermined. So Yugoslavia was stitched together by a party that was in constant conflict between its own power bases in their respective republics. However, the continuing debate over decentralization and centralization exploded within the LCY and culminated at the Fourteenth (Extraordinary) Congress of the League of Communists of Yugoslavia in January 1990. This is where Kučan came to the fore and locked horns with Milošević.

Eric Gordy (in Cohen & Dragovic-Soso, State collapse in South-Eastern Europe, 2008) writes that Milošević wanted to change the voting structure of the LCY from a republic vote to ‘One member, one vote’. Milošević, and Kučan for that matter, knew that Serbia and Montenegro together had 47% of the LCY membership and therefore could always count on winning the votes at the congress, even with minimal support from the other republic’s delegates. Every vote on a Slovene delegation policy was defeated. This humiliated the Slovenes. Even up to this point, Milošević must have wanted to retain the existing boundaries of Yugoslavia, and believed that the LCY was what kept Yugoslavia together. If not, then he wouldn’t have needed to go through the charade of a Party conference. His goal was simply the domination of the party. Yet, his proposal and the actions he took to secure it pushed the Slovenes to the limit. The Slovene delegation, led by Milan Kučan, proceeded to walk out of the congress auditorium, never to return. The Croats followed suit ensuring no quorum for the congress to continue. Days later the Slovenes left the LCY.

This event was the culmination of all the events that came before it. The rise in nationalist agitation by the Serbian intelligentsia endorsed and carried forward by Slobodan Milošević. The troubles occurring in Kosovo matched with the Slovene intelligentsia’s growing interest in civil rights issues. The economic decline throughout the 1980s and a dominating debate regarding the power and structure of the federal state and the fight to dominate. This led to the final questioning of the role of the LCY, and a loss of faith in the party to control the situation. The 1974 constitution presumed the dominance of the LCY in order to govern the country. Now that the Slovenes walked out, there was no all-Yugoslav party. Ramet, Gordy and Jovic (in Cohen & Dragovic-Soso, State collapse in South-Eastern Europe, 2008) all point to this congress as being a defining moment in the decline of the Yugoslav polity. So according to Ramet’s theory, Milosevic failed at the third step, thus the possibility of a smooth ride to the fourth was rendered void. He only achieved this in a rump Yugoslavia.

In summary, there are a many hundred contributing factors that led to the demise of the Yugoslav polity, and it would be unfair to assume that only the points I have covered are the full sum of those. I have provided a brief description of the events that occurred to place in context my reasoning for those people or groups that I feel played the most significant parts in the polity’s collapse. I feel that Slobodan Milošević, Milan Kučan and the intelligentsias of Serbia and Slovenia are the main political and social actors that most contributed to this, for reasons I have outlined. But an annex to this is the role of the League of Communist of Yugoslavia. One may debate whether it is a social actor or not, but the party’s influence on the life of the people and of its fundamental role in the institutions of the federal and republic institutions, leads me to conclude that so long as the party survived, so did the state. The culmination of events during the 1980s led to the eventual clash of two republican leaders in the arena of the 1990 LCY party congress, which ultimately sealed Yugoslavia’s fate as a functioning and unified.