Local opinion: A warning of rhyme

On Dec. 20, 1991, the prime minister of Yugoslavia resigned. He did so for many reasons, but the tipping point for Ante Markovic was his refusal to submit a “War Budget” for his country as it disintegrated after the fall of the Berlin Wall and, more importantly, the death of Josip Broz, known as Tito. Tito had led the region through the resistance to Nazi occupation in World War II and then Yugoslavia until his death in 1980. He left this life, leaving no real successor. Authoritarians tend to suffer from a strong inability to cede power.

Markovic was a consummate fiscal conservative whose heroic policies were aimed at paying off Yugoslavia’s foreign debt to free the economy and free his people as well. He was close to succeeding at it.

The events that would follow were some of the darkest in the history of Europe since the World Wars. Today’s Ukraine, as bad as it is, would be second.

What happened, very simply put, is a forced division of a nation. Slobodan Milošević would take the reins of power in the Serbian province using thuggish means. He would often hold hateful rallies that just happened to be close to newly dumped piles of bricks. Once elected, he robbed the treasury to pay off paramilitary groups, which caused brilliant economists that had helped Poland rise from the Warsaw Pact to leave in disgust.

The war that would come to Bosnia and Herzegovina used those paramilitaries to do the dirty work. Plausible deniability was the key. The result was nothing short of a genocide of white-faced, blue-eyed Muslims. Whatever side of this conflict one was on, the conversation was irrevocably changed. In defense of these people, al-Qaida was born as the world watched, wringing its hands.

So, what are we to think when an unrestrained president of the United States decides to allocate a $1-billion-plus fund to “compensate victims” of judicial prosecution against his supporters who broke settled law? Milošević did that, and it didn’t turn out very well for all involved, including his supporters.

We who oppose our current national trajectory often misuse history and thereby fuel our opponents. We err every time we say, “just like.” Mark Twain taught us, “History does not repeat itself, but it does rhyme.”

Nonetheless, our president is acting within a known playbook. Simply put, he believes that rules are made to be broken or at least worked around. We should be learning that too much of how America worked has been dependent upon polite company.

As we descend into what is best labeled as “competitive authoritarianism,” we react and forget to advocate for a better future. But do we fear our enemies more than we love our children?

The lesson of the Balkans, like the lessons of the Great War, or the lessons of the one after that, is that civility can crash faster than it can be rebuilt.

Donald Trump is no Tito. He resembles Franjo Tudjman of Croatia better. Both admired themselves seen dressed in glaring white uniforms and sought the grandeur of unaffordable luxury in a nation that could not afford it. The difference was that Tudjman could never be the man that Tito was during World War II when the chips were down.

In 1996, Tudjman traveled to Walter Reed for what was reported as stomach flu. So many of those I spoke with empathized with his plight. Few could understand or feared to admit that one does not travel thousands of miles to a U.S. hospital for stomach flu. Here is the true power of a controlled press. In that same timeframe, I stood in Tomislav Square in Zagreb as a hundred thousand citizens rallied in support of the novel ideal of free speech. I saw a pride of advocacy often taken for granted here. As Tudjman returned from his cancer treatment, he fired his security chief for allowing such a thing.

Perhaps we are like that now, or perhaps we can strive to be better. We should beware the rhyme and seek a better tone, forging an optimism for all of us.