They used to come in hope. Nestled in the basement of Belgrade University’s Faculty of Philosophy, Industria is at the center of the city’s student life. Just more than two years ago, those students led massive demonstrations against the regime of Slobodan Milosevic. They thought of themselves as the class of ‘96, poised to bring democracy to Yugoslavia. Now they look more like a lost generation. “They’ve gone underground. But most importantly, they’ve stopped caring,” says Veran Matic, whose opposition radio station, B-92, was closed down by the government and then reopened last week with a Milosevic stooge in charge.
NATO’s war on Milosevic has given the dictator an excuse to crush his liberal opposition. The most prominent victim so far is Savko Curuvija, former editor of the Daily Telegraph, an anti-corruption broadsheet, who was assassinated by masked gunmen on Orthodox Easter Sunday. Despite fears of arrest, more than 2,000 people attended his funeral at the New Cemetery in downtown Belgrade last week. The marchers included students, journalists and opposition politicians–almost all that remains of the activist core from 1996. “This murder is a message to [the opposition], who are called a fifth column by the regime,” said one mourner. The message, he says, is that “they can be killed as well.”
Many of the younger men from the class of ‘96 have become draft dodgers. Bogi, a 26-year-old law student, has been living at home only sporadically, in order to avoid conscription. “The military police have even come inside to search through closets for me,” he says as he watches antiaircraft shells explode in the night sky.
His friend Igor never sleeps at home. A 28-year-old who works in the film industry, Igor has already done Army service and consequently is in much greater demand than men like Bogi, who has yet to don a uniform. But these onetime peace activists know they can’t hide forever. If the MPs have to come to their homes more than twice, they face 60 days in jail–provided they eventually show up for duty. Should they be caught before they can report, it’s three to seven years. “If it comes to full war, we’ll all be in the Army,” says Bogi.
Fearful for their future, many young activists have retreated into drugs. The usual rule of thumb is that people under 35 smoke pot, while those over 35 take antidepressants. One of the ironies of this war is that much of the marijuana comes from Albania. “Luckily,” says one dealer, “we stockpiled for the war.” Most young liberals no longer profess an interest in politics. “We lost, and 1996 is long gone,” 30-year-old Mikica, a deejay at Industria, says outside the club. “All I want to do is get as far away from here as possible.” But under martial law, even exile is a hopeless dream.
