lation in belonging to the UniversalrnChurch and a Universal Empire and Serbrnfor those who rejoiced in being just asrnGod had created them.rnThe few Volochs—and many morernSlavs—who accepted Islam sought, inrnall probability, merely a respite from thernimpalements, the beheadings, the housernand village burnings, the eternal rapesrnand pillages that marked Ottoman rule.rnTurkic terror, refined over the millennia,rnhas sometimes mistakenly impressedrneven American servicemen, who haverninterpreted it as a sign of military valor,rnnot of what it really signified—an Orientalrndesperation, desponding of anyrnsense to life, except for the mad, heedlessrndash toward might, glory, and power.rnTo search for a regional, even a European,rnsolution to the Balkans’ ethnic,rnreligious, and other conflicts, withoutrntaking into account their genesis, andrntheir historical justice, is insane. Only arnDoomsday “International Community,”rnrun by people unwilling to concede thatrn”bygones” are an inescapable part of thern”present” as well as of the “future,” couldrnhave committed such an array of sinsrnand crimes as inform the present Westernrnpolicy toward Yugoslavia.rnMoreover, to seek solutions that ridernroughshod over Serb national interests—rnas the West does today—is to court atrnleast failure, if not outright disaster.rn(The Austrians, among others, tried thatrntwice—in World War I and II.) For anyrncalculations about “containing” thernSerbs by using their ancient enemies—rnthe Austrian Germans, the Hungarians,rnthe Croats, the renegade Muslims, thernBulgarians, the Turks, and the Albaniansrn—are a tally without the final wordrnof the innkeeper—in this case, the Serbrnnation.rnWhat should the Serbs be “contained”rnfrom? Is it from reaching theirrnjust goal of living in a single state that ensuresrntheir biological survival, as the sornreadily destroyed Yugoslavia used to be?rnThe “International Community” (a euphemism,rnmostly, for Germany) hasrngiven the Croats a state that includes arnmillion Serbs—a quarter of Croatia’srnpopulation—within borders arbitrarilyrndrawn by Tito, while “Bosnians” (onlyrnthe Roman Catholics and the Muslims)rnare awarded “sovereignty” over an additionalrnmillion-and-a-half Serbs—closernto 40 percent of that state’s inhabitants.rnYet Serbs are not allowed to have whatrnthey have already achieved, by their militaryrnvalor and long-term sacrifice.rnthrough two internationally recognizedrnformer Yugoslavias. If the hodgepodgernof Bosnia can exist as a viable “state,”rnthen, compared to that, a Yugoslavia,rnany Yugoslavia, is a unified nation. Evenrnthe much-maligned “Greater” Serbiarnwould be less multinational, less multiconfessional,rnless multicultural, than thernchaotic Bosnia and Herzegovina of thernChampion of Islam, Alija Izetbegovie.rnIn a sense, Serbs should be eternallyrngrateful to the Croat autocrat, FranjornTudjman, and to the Slovene demagogue,rnMilan Kucan—both former toprnTito cadres and communist officials ofrnthe highest rank—for awakening thernSerbs’ nationalism and reinforcing theirrnwill to survive. Had not this madnessrncome about, in all likelihood Serb liberalrnintellectuals and the Serb effete, communist-rnbred elite, would have emasculatedrnthe Serb national spirit, in keepingrnwith the best intentions of the architectsrnof the New World Order. The Serbs,rnthen, would have become just a regionalrndesignation, much the same as thernScots, who have ended up a mere namernfor the inhabitants of a country once asrnCeltic as Serb Kraina.rnThe Germans, who call all the Romancernpeoples “Welsh,” and the Russians,rnwho so call the Poles, settlers of thernoriginal European Celtic homeland, certainlyrnknow who the Voloch (Volcae)rnwere. As in the ease of the Serbs—thernhated Wends of their genocidal past—rnthey would that there were no history, or,rnat least, that they could rewrite it, morernto their present democratic, humanrights-rnconcerned liking.rnWhat the Americans could do is tornstart thinking at least a few years ahead,rninstead of jerking their knees accordingrnto the political dictates of the moment.rnThough the world is governed by interest,rnAmericans should strive toward arnperception of enlightened self-interest,rnusually called friendship, among thernmore traditional peoples and men. Perhapsrnthe reasons that made, say, thernFrench become historic friends of thernAmericans—as the Serbs and the Greeksrnare their friends in the Balkans—willrnagain reassert themselves, for the causernof mutual survival. In the cacophony ofrnliberal babble, of endless and proliferatingrn”rights,” false “issues,” and interchangeablernmedia crusades (as unjust asrnthey are foolish, unworthy, and forgettable)rnfriends in certain-to-eome needrnmight prove to be a scarce commodity.rnTo search for such “friends” among historicallyrnanti-American and anti-Westernrnnations like the Bosnian Muslims,rnthe Muslim Albanians, the Teuton-lovingrnCroats, and the autistic Magyars, notrnto mention the Oriental Bulgars, is trulyrna puzzling decision. For war there shallrnbe as long as there are men, and wise nationsrnand people keep that in mind whenrnlaying the groundwork for their nationalrnwell-being, not to say survival.rnIn Kraina, among the men who love tornjoke, gamble, sing, fight, or just gab a little,rnthe knowledge of what is and what isrnnot is precise, certain, and well-worn.rnThe Kraina Serbs can hear Americanrncargo planes flying over their stone hamlets,rnon their way to drop “humanitarianrnaid” to their ancient foes, the “Turks”rnof Bosnia. Ljubo Urukalo, a dark-eyed,rnwhite-toothed young soldier, whose unclernthe present-day Croat Ustashi haverncut up into six pieces (the dead man wasrnburied where he was found, so his motherrnwould never learn of how he died), hasrna one-year-old son. Urukalo’s son is arntiny, dark-eyed baby, crawling over arntended green lawn, in a small village onrnthe cdrsf-plateau. Among them, I smilernand feel like a human being: no one asksrnanything of me, except my presence andrnmy good spirits.rnThat, it seems, I have given them asrnan armed volunteer from Serbia. I sit inrnthe enclosed yard and drink brandy withrnthe Frontiersmen, a potent, clear liquid,rnakin to the Italian grappa. We finger ourrnrifles—everyone carries one, the youngrnand the old, many women as well—rnand watch the western sky, where thernCroat coastal batteries sound off, poundingrnour villages, our women, and ourrnchildren.rnIt will be a long war, because someonernin Belgrade has forgotten that Serbs arerna warrior people, not a nation of merchantsrn—or negotiators—like the compatriotsrnof Vance and Owen. After all,rnwhat is there to negotiate if someonernwants to do us in? Let him come and getrnus, we won’t mind, providing he’s willingrnto pay the price. So far, no one in thisrnworld has been rich enough—in men,rnmoney, and hate—to win out over us, nornmatter how fervent his desire.rnMomcilo Selic is a writer andrnjournalist living in Belgrade. Hernwas imprisoned by the communistrngovernment in Yugoslavia forrnsatirizing the cult of the leader. Hernwas managing editor of Chroniclesrnfrom 1987 to 1989.rn44/CHRONICLESrnrnrn