The issue of the apology of fascism remains unsolved for the Croats. Although exposing ultra-nationalist symbols and greeting with the fascist slogan “Za dom spremni” (“For the homeland-ready!”) is punishable by law, attitudes towards such expressions remain mixed. Recent polls reveal that the majority of teenagers consider them a mere expression of patriotism. The warning has been renewed by the European Commission against Racism and Intolerance (ECRI), which has invited the Croatian State to intervene when far-right mottos are used during artistic performances, sport events or – even worse – when emblems, plaques and revanchist insignia are glorified in war memorials.
The story begins with the formation of the Kingdom of Serbs, Croats and Slovenes, which was established in the aftermath of the collapsed Ottoman and Austro-Hungarian Empires (December 1918). Immediately afterwards, the Orthodox Serbs tried to dominate the union. However, this gave way to the rise of nationalisms. In particular, a Croatian member of the Parliament, Ante Pavelić, founded the separatist movement of the Ustaša (“the insurgents”), while he was in exile in Italy. The Ustaša were protected by the Italian Fascist regime, which used them in 1941 to lead the newly-formed Independent State of Croatia (NDH). This State was actually a puppet regime created after the Nazi occupation of the country and established under German and Italian patronage.
The NDH was short-lived, but after World War II the extremist ideology that characterised the Ustaša survived among the Croatian diaspora around the world. It resurfaced in June 1991, when the nationalists won the first free elections in post-Yugoslavia. As soon as Croatia declared independence, it was immediately attacked by Serb forces. What kept the fighters’ morale high was music: robust doses of national pride, Roman Catholic identity and the fight for freedom inspired a kind of nationalist folk-rock that intertwined war lyrics and well-known traditional melodies. Such songs have become symbols of the Croatian identity and are still performed today during historical and sport events.
Commemorative and celebratory sculpture has similarly taken on ideological features. Works such as the Altar of the Fatherland, made by Kuzma Kovačić in Medvedgrad in 1994, aimed at redefining the cultural identities, impose a new national-populist ideology in stark contrast with the socialism of the past, and become a point of reference for the community by means of a Nazi-fascist inspired iconography.
We discussed the Independent State of 1941-1945, the Homeland War of the 1990s and the long-lasting legacy of historic memory expressed through arts and monuments with Hrvoje Klasić, associate professor of history at the University of Zagreb. Klasić is also the host of Kontrapovijest (“Counter-history”), a discussion-based TV programme broadcasted by the Croatian channel VIDA. Because of his public engagement against historical negationism, Klasić regularly faces threats and insults in Croatia. Nevertheless, his academic contributions represent a reference point for scholars dealing with the Balkans.
Firstly, let’s step back in time. Why were the Ustaša politically baptised by the Italian Fascist regime?
The Italian government welcomed the dissolution of Yugoslavia because it was disappointed by the unfulfilled promise to claim the whole Adriatic coast. Indeed, according to the Treaty of London (April 1915), Italy had joined World War I alongside Great Britain, France and Russia, in exchange for territorial gains (after the War, the USA president Woodrow Wilson rejected the fulfillment of the Agreement, because it did not respect the people’s rights of self-determination. Moreover, after the collapse of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, the treaty lost meaning, since no authority could actually enforce it, editor’s note).
The Italian government subsequently hosted and trained the Ustaša movement, hoping to use it later. However, in 1934 a completely unforeseen event occurred. Pavelić’s group organised the assassination of the Yugoslavian King Alexander I in Marseille, but accidentally the French Minister of Foreign Affairs Louis Barthou was also killed. An outburst of anger in France led the Italian government to imprison Pavelić and scatter the Ustaša throughout Italy, forcing them to suspend their activities. After one year in prison, Pavelić was released and sent to Florence with his family, remaining available for any eventuality.
As a consequence of the 1941 Nazi-Fascist agreement for the partition of Yugoslavia, the Ustaša took control of the Independent State of Croatia, but lost consensus among the people because of their territorial concessions to Italy.
True. After World War I and the founding of the Kingdom of Yugoslavia, Italy already wanted territories mostly populated by Croatians and Slovenians, such as Istria. Following the Treaty of Rapallo in 1920, Yugoslavia ceded them. Yet, when the Ustaša took power, Pavelić signed a new agreement, according to which Italy received Dalmatia as well as several more islands. Thus, Italy gained control of the eastern Adriatic shores.
However, this decision, together with changes to the educational system and the Italianisation of names and toponyms, proved unpopular. During World War II, Evgen Dido Kvaternik, a Croatian Ustaša General-Lieutenant and Chief of the Internal Security Service of the NDH, constantly criticized Pavelić by claiming that Italy had received far more than it had asked. Official documents proved he was right.
Did the Serbian general Draža Mihailović, commander-in-chief of the Yugoslav Army in the Homeland (aka Chetniks), and his units antagonize the Ustaša?
No. In April 1941, the regular army of the Kingdom of Yugoslavia capitulated immediately. However, a few dozen soldiers, led by General Mihailović, returned from Bosnia and Herzegovina to Serbia to oppose the Nazi occupation. They were known as “Chetniks“, meaning “the troops”, and consisted of a nationalist militia loyal to the King Peter II and the Orthodox Church. Initially their resistance was successful, despite provoking terrible reprisals against civilians.
In addition, a new force gained prominence in the conflict: Tito‘s partisans, ready to fight the Nazi-Fascist occupiers for the establishment of a Republican and Communist Yugoslavia. For the Chetniks, this represented the worst case scenario, as it was completely in opposition to all their ideals. The resulting hostility was irreconcilable.
The Chetniks’ experience in guerrilla warfare made them valuable for the Italian soldiers in Dalmatia and Montenegro, who were struggling in the fight against the partisans. Because of their ideological stance, the majority of Chetniks joined the Anti-Communist Voluntary Militia, a paramilitary force supporting the Fascists.
It was a paradoxical situation: the Ustaša were killing Serbs, while the Serbian Chetniks accepted their regime in exchange for weapons and supplies. Many agreements between the two groups have been documented, as well as examples of joint battles, in which German, Italian, Chetniks and Ustaša troops fought altogether against the partisans.
To make matters worse, towards the end of the War, in spring of 1945, Mihailović sent a delegation to Pavelić in Zagreb demanding medicines, weapons and a safe passage to the British-occupied zone in Austria – all of which he regularly obtained. Indeed, the Chetniks feared the partisans’ revenge and saw no alternative but to flee.
What role did the Croatian Catholic Church play?
Unfortunately, it focussed much more on nationalism than on Christianity. In May 1945, when the War was already lost, numerous Ustaša officials and clergymen managed to escape to Austria and then to Rome, where they were protected and hidden by elements of the Catholic Church.
After a few years, with the Church’s active support, they made their way through the so-called ratlines – clandestine networks used by Nazi-Fascists to escape reprisals or judicial condemnations – to the Americas and Australia. However, when in 1991 Croatia proclaimed independence, many of them and their relatives or descendants returned to help the new government led by the nationalist Franjo Tuđman.
The majority of the Croatian Catholic priests actively supported the NDH and the Ustaša regime. Clearly, they were also critical of the Vatican’s position during the War, but – due to the creation of a communist regime – such voices remained an absolute minority. After 1945, the Catholic Church became the protector of the independent Croatian identity even abroad. In the Americas and Australia, it is still possible to find photos of Pavelić and maps of the NDH, not only in Croatian clubs and organisations, but even in some churches.
To summarize, did the Ustaša turn from being war criminals during World War II into freedom fighters in the 1990s?
Correct. The diaspora played a crucial role in transforming war criminals into heroes, something that remains deeply confusing in modern Croatia. Let me explain. For 45 years, the official narrative and artistic representations were one-sided: the partisans were the heroes, whereas the Ustaša were the villains. It was impossible to openly talk about them or to carry out research into the at least 80,000 Ustaša officers and soldiers captured and executed by the partisans while fleeing to Austria in the summer of 1945. However, the victims’ relatives did not forget.
When, in 1991, part of the Croatian diaspora helped establish the new State, the issue re-emerged. War broke out: Croatia declared its independence and was attacked by the Serbs inside the country and from Serbia. As a matter of fact, the Yugoslav army soldiers were almost identical to the partisans during World War II.
The members of the diaspora could easily argue: «Who is bombing Dubrovnik, Vukovar, Zagreb? Those who wore red stars and were followers of the partisan movement. And are you saying that the partisans were the saviours? No, we are freedom fighters today, as we were in 1941. Who’s the main enemy? The Serbs, in 1991, just as they were in 1941».
This confusion between good and evil can still be seen today in memorials. How is it possible, for instance, that in Split there is still a monument with the name of the Ustaša military commander Ranko Boban?
The problem is that in May 1990, with the democratisation of Croatia and the fall of communism, new parties were formed. One of them was an extreme-right movement called The Croatian Party of Rights (HSP), which did not hide its sympathies for the Ustaša. Soon after the elections, as already pointed out, a new war started. Alongside the regular army, the HSP organized paramilitary formations named Croatian Defence Forces (HOS). They wore black uniforms reminiscent of those of the Ustaša legion, reintroduced their motto and named their squads after Ustaša war leaders, including Ranko Boban and Jure Francetić, the founder of the Black Legion (an Ustaša infantry unit, editor’s note).
So, the HOS militias were fighting for Croatia against Serbian aggression, but they had acquired part of the cursed identity of the Ustaša. Here is the question: «Is it acceptable to have a monument dedicated to the fallen of that war that at the same time commemorates a movement responsible for genocides and all kinds of war crimes?». Thirty-five years later, Croatian society and its political elites have still not found an answer to this question.
During the commemorations, you can see many young Croatians wearing those black shirts and displaying their insignia. They say: «No, we are not nostalgic for fascisms, we are Croatian patriots. In 1991, the militiamen fighting for a free and independent Croatia were wearing these very shirts».
What about the plaque with the infamous slogan “Za dom spremni” placed near the village of Jasenovac? There used to be a Ustaša concentration camp nearby.
At least officially, the monument is dedicated to the memory of the paramilitary soldiers who fell during the Balkan wars, between 1991 and 1995. The plaque bears their slogan. But, at the same time, during World War II, about 83,000 people were killed in the nearby concentration camp in Jasenovac under the same slogan.
Those who built the monument have not admitted responsibility for it, but it is clearly a form of provocation and the plaque should be removed.
Memory and war are always contentious, but here there is a lot of ambiguity.
Indeed. Between 1945 and 1990, approximately 6,000 monuments dedicated to the victims of fascism were built in Croatia, and many more on the territories of Yugoslavia. However, during the first 10 years of democracy, some 3,500 of them were destroyed, damaged, ruined, or neglected.
In the 1990s, anti-fascism was expelled from the public discourse, while this idea that the Ustaša were not only war criminals but they also served as freedom fighters and patriots rose steadily. If partisans were fighting for Yugoslavia, the Ustaša were fighting for Croatia. Both had committed crimes, but people stand with their own faction. This rash conclusion is still polarizing our society.
About “Thompson” Perković: his Catholic-patriotic folk-rock is virtually unknown abroad, but the European media wrote with concern about one of his concerts in Zagabria because thousands of youths responded enthusiastically to the Ustaša salute. Should we assume that Croatians are heading towards fascism once again?
No, not at all. The vast majority of those who joined the Zagreb concert – I think – are neither radicals or extremists, nor do they hate Serbs. Actually, they adore Serbian turbo-folk. Provided that I am not the kind of person who would downplay extreme right sentiments, Thompson’s success must be properly contextualised.
Thompson came out in the 1990s, when he joined the Balkan war as a volunteer. His nickname, indeed, comes from the American submachine gun that he carried. During that period, he recorded Bojna Čavoglave (Čavoglave Battalion), a song which became a non-official anthem of all the fighters. The first three words are “Za dom spremni” (“For the homeland, ready!”) that was the official salute during the Ustaša regime in 1941-1945. The rest of the song, though, does not contain apologetic lines.
Thompson revealed himself as being pro-Ustaša during the 1990s. However, that came back to haunt him. His concerts were banned and his songs could not be broadcasted by the mass-media. Thus, he completely stopped talking about the Ustaša movement. His lyrics often refer to the past, but he never let them become too explicit. For instance, in another song, he mourns about mass killings of Ustaša by the hands of partisans after the War in 1945, without mentioning any of their own war crimes.
Many other public figures have found themselves caught between anti-fascist laws and far-right sentiments.
Yes, but things should be viewed in a wider context. For instance, after the 1990s war, when athletes returned home victorious, public celebrations were accompanied by nationalist songs. It was part of the whole choreography, so to speak. Generations of young people grew up feeling that those lyrics were authentically patriotic.
Nevertheless, just before the aforementioned concert, the left achieved a clear victory in the local elections in Zagreb. Unlike other European countries, extreme-right parties now have reached their nadir, according to recent polls.
What should one think, instead, of those conservatives who portrayed revanchist feelings in their works? My mind goes to the diaspora painter Charles Billich and his work Historical tournament, in which he puts together medieval heroes, religious characters and symbols of the special forces of the Croatian army of the 1990s.
As a matter of fact, in arts, textbooks and public spaces, you cannot find clear and unequivocal support for the Ustaša movement and its ideology. However, you perceive strong anti-communism, anti-partisan and anti-Yugoslavian feelings, even in artistic productions. So, although Croatia is an anti-fascist State under the Constitution, today it has actually turned into an anti-antifascist country.
Broadly speaking, the line between a conservative, patriotic and a nationalist stance is a very thin one in my country. Very few Croatian right-wing politicians and voters would say openly and honestly that both the Independent State of Croatia and the Ustaša were unacceptable and claim that they were all fascists. Instead, they always try to relativise things in a deterministic way by saying: «You know, the situation in the 1940s was as such and consequently it could not have gone a different way». Similarly, they neglect atrocities committed by those groups, while emphasising partisan and communist crimes.
Current political elites, especially those on the right – and they have been ruling for years – are not proud of the Croatian antifascism or partisan movements. This is strange, as the founder of the ruling HDZ and first president of Croatia Tuđman was initially a communist and a volunteer partisan. After World War II, he became a general in the Yugoslavian army and, again, a communist. He only became a dissident long after that.
He was the first person to allow this negationist revisionism to spread and I think his wrongdoing was enormous. His motivations represent another topic that deserves further discussion.
To know more
Drndić Dasa. 2019. EEG. A novel. New York, New Directions.
Hawkesworth Celia. “Identity and managing the memory of war. Yugoslavia: a case study”, in Emsley Clive. (a cura di). 2003. War, culture and memory. Milton Keynes, The Open University UK, 309-354.
Laušević Mirjana. “Some aspects of music and politics in Bosnia”, in Halpern Joel M. e Kideckel David A. (a cura di). 2000. Neighbors at War. Anthropological Perspectives on Yugoslav Ethnicity, Culture, and History. University Park, PA: The Pennsylvania State University Press, 289–301.
