Behind Tito's Curtain

From Austria, only a massive range of mountains and a four-dollar visa (easily obtainable) separate the American citizen from Yugoslavia. Near the frontier, the Loiblpass rises like an angry snake, symbolic of Tito's political machinations over the last eight years; but on the other side, Slovenia, one of the seven federated states, stretches into a timid plain.

Each village in this plain and throughout the state, however, is armed and ready for action--although most maneuvers take place on foot and in horse-drawn carts. Surprisingly, this military complex causes little disruption. Almost everyone took an active part in World War II and knows the value of armed strength, especially with Russia next door. War memorials are rare. Yet a military funeral inspires a grand spectacle and letters still bear the phrase "Death to the Fascist, Free the People." On top of this, Tito played heavily on national solidarity and self-interest to save his own neck when the 1948 split with Russia seemed imminent. Under his wand, the greatly diverse Yugoslav people have submerged their peculiar cultural and racial differences into a proud nationalist feeling. Yet they still keep their language and practice old customs in the antonomous provinces. With the possible exception of Trieste, Tito directs his brand of nationalism to domestic construction and economic rehabilitation.

In blend, the summer capital, I met an economist who had just been promoted from a high school teaching post to the University of Belgrade. In answer to my questions on his profession, he began to praise Tito as "the hero and leader of our people" and methodically continued with a doctrinaire exposition of Marxist economic theory. In spite of my attempts to interrupt his logic, he proved he had swallowed whole the official line. On a more practical level, he explained, "we have introduced an incentive wage for the worker. According to his production, he receives up to forty percent more pay in coupons which he must spend equally with dinars. This has increased the movement of goods and we are very happy about it."

But this incentive plan has by no means solved Tito's most pressing problem. In Bosnia and Montenegro, the peasants are reluctant to make the long and costly trek to the cities; and those who are attracted by new industrial centers often return home because the factories tend to expand too quickly while raw material sources remain meagre or distant. The larger deposits of coal and iron in Serbia and Slovenia, however, have made a speedier development of heavy industry there possible.

To encourage business Tito has relaxed his nationalization program. Talking to a camera store proprietor in Bled, I found that he was an independent. Like the 1930 NEP in Russia, small trades may remain individually operated provided they do not exceed a certain number per district. A free market in grain and other food stuffs also exists.

Other incentives include government supported gliderports where industrious workers and students may rest and fly for two or three weeks vacation. Labor unions run resorts on the Dalmatian coast for the "champion" workers. Few resorts exist, however, because Tito's effort to build an industrial complex in the agrarian south has not been very successful.

While trade and industrial output have increased on the whole, construction has slowed down. A recently built model city, Titograd, in Montenegro stands half-finished and deserted. The ugly, square, cement hotel, a huge department store, administration buildings are surrounded by open spaces and ruins of the old town. Another mark of prestige, the excellent cement highway between Belgrade and Zagreb conveys more hay-wagons than cars.

Lubiana, a modern city in Slovenia, is bustling with activity. While eating breakfast there, a doctor sat at my table, the only available place. After introduction, he spoke to me in low tones, in French. "Why are you sending aid to Yugoslavia?" "Well, you must realize its strategic importance for us," I replied. He shrugged his shoulders. "Yes, but you don't expect anything from it, do you?" The doctor had been a political prisoner and was still under surveillance. It was his way of expressing hostility towards the regime. Feelings towards Tito range from outright reverence to doubt as to exactly how the federation will-develop to hostility and resignation. There is little chance of revolt, except perhaps among peasants in the south. Military units have parallel political units, so organized resistance is snuffed at the roots. With the notable advance in the standard of living over the last two years, as a matter of fact, many doubtful people have gained confidence if not faith in the government. Although only 5% of Yugoslavia is communist, the one-party system assures the continuation of Tito's policies.

American aid to Yugoslavia has been one of our most successful international projects. Money (no strings attached) which has gone into construction in Bosnia and Macedonia and CARE stations for milk and margerine in southern towns have met with wide approval.

A characteristic and, I think, sincere reaction to Tito's regime came from a man who had been a European correspondent before the war. "Yes, I enjoyed that way of life; I could write anything I wished, made a lot of money, met important people. But I came back here because I loved Yugoslavia. I knew she would live and grow. I took a job as street-car conductor. There are many things I don't like; sometimes we can change things on a local level. I can complain to you sitting here, but I can't get on a soap-box or use the press. Not so much freedom, but I have faith in the Old Brother."