Introduction
Serbia’s antibureaucratic revolution was one of the key episodes in the chain of events that led to the violent breakup of the multi-ethnic socialist state. In the summer and fall of 1988, thousands of citizens took to the streets and in large populist rallies. They demanded solutions for tense Serb-Albanian relations in Kosovo and asked for the resignations of “bureaucrats,” that is, corrupt and distant elites in Vojvodina, Kosovo, and Montenegro. This turbulent period propelled Slobodan Milošević to political stardom, transforming him into a man of the people. In the aftermath of this wave of popular mobilization, Yugoslavia’s disintegration began to accelerate. Kosovo, Slovenia, and Croatia all began to chart courses toward independence. In Serbia, Milošević established the foundations for a new form of authoritarian regime. Violence and war were on the horizon.
Despite the episode’s importance, our understanding of the antibureaucratic revolution is still incomplete. Most scholarship has simply noted that Milošević and his allies organized a series of supposedly spontaneous but actually orchestrated mass rallies. For example, Josip Glaurdić says that “there was nothing spontaneous in their [the rallies’] organization and timing” (Reference Glaurdić2011, 29). Sabrina Ramet echoes this statement when she writes that the protests were “ostensibly spontaneous” but really “carefully organized” (Reference Ramet2005, 56). Christopher Bennet again suggests that “there was nothing spontaneous about the meetings, which were all carefully stage-managed” (Reference Bennett1995, 98). Dejan Jović (Reference Jović2014) writes that “even when they [politicians] mobilized ‘the people,’ they manipulated them successfully in every moment.” Other contributions similarly speak of the protests as “stage-managed” (Little and Silber Reference Little and Silber1995, 58; Pavlowitch Reference Pavlowitch2002, 194). The literature on the whole is quite elite-centric (Vladisavljević Reference Vladisavljević2008, 2–5; Grdešić Reference Grdešić2016, 775–777). There is very little focus on the actions and thoughts of ordinary Yugoslav citizens.
An emphasis on elite involvement is not so much incorrect as incomplete. When it comes to the motivations of ordinary people, we are left in the dark. Many scholars reacted to the “ancient hatreds” thesis (Kaplan Reference Kaplan1994), the notion that hate is deeply instilled in the culture of various ethnic groups in Yugoslavia, by blaming elite manipulation. However, this has led to the emergence of another simplified narrative, one that can be called the “paradise lost/loathsome leaders” perspective (Cohen Reference Cohen2001, 465; see also Dragović-Soso Reference Dragović-Soso, Cohen and Dragović-Soso2008, 15). New research should therefore be sensitive to the opinions and actions of ordinary citizens. This is especially relevant with regard to the antibureaucratic revolution since it represents a case of mass contentious action, unimaginable without the voluntary participation of thousands of people.
It is therefore important to give voice to ordinary participants and provide a bottom-up corrective to the existing literature on Yugoslavia’s final years. The main question posed by this article is about ordinary participants: what do they now think of their involvement in this often unsavory episode of mass mobilization? Given the dark side of the antibureaucratic revolution—aspects such as exclusionary nationalism and political authoritarianism—it is important to ask ordinary people what they think about their participation today and how participation in this event shaped their attitudes toward politics. Given that a full three decades have passed since 1988, such a reevaluation is both possible and timely.
There are several scholarly contributions that are important in pushing forward our understanding of Serbia’s antibureaucratic revolution. The initial steps come from Veljko Vujačić (Reference Vujačić1996; Reference Vujačić2003; Reference Vujačić2015), whose work downplays the role of elites in order to focus on long-term historical legacies. Another important contribution is Nebojša Vladisavljević’s 2008 study, which encompasses both the top-down and the bottom-up dimensions of the revolution. More recently, historians have begun to investigate the involvement of various working-class communities (Musić Reference Musić, Archer, Duda and Stubbs2016; Archer and Musić Reference Archer and Musić2017). Other contributions have emphasized the importance of understanding the mass resonance of Milošević’s discourse (Grdešić Reference Grdešić2016). Building on this body of work, this article focuses on in the opinions of regular citizens, the ordinary “foot soldiers” of the antibureaucratic revolution. How do people assess their own personal involvement? How far can they go in critically examining their role in this often unsavory, but important episode? Finally, how has taking part in this episode shaped their view of politics in the present?
Other scholars have begun to address the involvement of ordinary people and the connected processes of coming to terms with the past, but mostly focus on the terrain of the wars of the 1990s (Pavlaković Reference Pavlaković2010; Nettelfield Reference Nettelfield2010; Obradović-Wochnik Reference Obradović-Wochnik2013; Gordy Reference Gordy2014). A particularly promising way to approach this topic is through focus groups (Ćorkalo et al. Reference Ćorkalo, Ajduković, Weinstein and Biro2004; Banjeglav Reference Banjeglav, Simić and Volčić2013; Sokolić Reference Sokolić2016). In a collective and interactive discussion, participants can be asked to explain what they thought then and what they now think of their involvement. The focus group can provide a setting in which participants can begin to engage their own personal histories critically. Of course, it is the task of the researcher to create an atmosphere in which people can freely talk about such sensitive and controversial topics. In particular, research ethics make it imperative to avoid shaming participants in any way.
Viewed from a broader perspective, an analysis of the long-term impact of the antibureaucratic revolution can also inform our understanding of social movement outcomes. In particular, comparative research on the biographical consequences of participation in mass contentious action has suggested that participation has empowering effects on individuals (Giugni Reference Giugni1998; Reference Giugni, Snow, Soule and Kriesi2007). This primarily relates to movements that were formative for social movement scholarship, especially the US civil rights movement and subsequent movements of the 1960s and 1970s. It has been shown that those who participated were more likely to take part in later episodes of activism (McAdam Reference McAdam1989; Reference McAdam1990). It is therefore worth considering whether one of the main episodes of mass contention that took place in socialist Yugoslavia—and that was a key event in its later dissolution—had a similar effect on people’s subsequent political histories. This is especially pertinent since the Serbian case is a case of populist mobilization (Jansen Reference Jansen2011; Reference Jansen2017; Hetland Reference Hetland2014), in which elites were heavily involved every step of the way, even as they encouraged the entry of the masses into political life. This type of collective action contrasts with what is usually studied by social movement scholars, but has been the norm historically, especially in peripheral and semi-peripheral countries (Mouzelis Reference Mouzelis1985).
The main themes that emerged from the focus groups can be summarized as follows. Many participants are surprisingly ready to critically engage their personal political histories. They see themselves as contributing to the political and economic disasters of the 1990s. They even talk freely about their own feelings of guilt and responsibility. Viewed in the long run, the legacies of the antibureaucratic revolution are negative. People have become apathetic and cynical. Following their involvement in the antibureaucratic revolution, most have decided to withdraw into their private lives. Even as most people openly engage their political histories, two blind spots make it possible to shift blame onto others. The two blind spots have to do with conspiracy theories and feelings of urban superiority. First, participants often portray the agency of foreign governments as crucial for the antibureaucratic revolution and the subsequent dissolution of Yugoslavia. Second, they often place responsibility for the event with nonurban outsiders who have not internalized the norms of “cultured” city living. These two tendencies lessen their own responsibility and shift blame for the outcomes of the late 1980s and early 1990s.
The Antibureaucratic Revolution and the “Yogurt Revolution”
Serbia’s antibureaucratic revolution was a turbulent period of mass upheaval that began gathering momentum in 1988. Prior to that year, protests were rare and those who decided to undertake them, such as the group of Serbian nationalist activists from Kosovo, faced various forms of repression (Doderović Reference Doderović1990, 21; Lekić, Pavić, and Lekić Reference Lekić, Pavić and Lekić2009, 2). However, by the summer of 1988 protests were becoming a regular feature of everyday life, especially in Serbia. In September, Milošević decided to publicly support the protests, declaring them an acceptable part of political life in socialist Yugoslavia (Vladisavljević Reference Vladisavljević2008, 150; Jović Reference Jović2009, 310). Following this announcement, protest activity expanded and a series of rallies took place, predominantly in the northern Serbian province of Vojvodina but throughout central Serbia as well. The culmination of these rallies was the so-called yogurt revolution: a large, two-day rally that took place in October in Novi Sad, the capital of Vojvodina. Roughly 100,000 people took part in the protest.
On October 5, 1988, streams of people from Novi Sad and the surrounding Vojvodina towns gathered in front of the provincial committee building. At the time, the committee was holding a session inside the building, which created a very dramatic setting. The demands of the protesters had escalated in comparison with earlier protests. Protesters now demanded that the Vojvodina leadership collectively resign. They expressed support for certain local maverick politicians, notably Mihalj Kertes, who led a group of workers from the nearby town of Bačka Palanka (Borba, October 5, 1988, 3). By the second day of the protests, the atmosphere outside the building became increasingly volatile. Many protesters called for Milošević to address them. Shouts such as “Slobo, help us” were common (Lekić, Pavić, and Lekić Reference Lekić, Pavić and Lekić2009, 51). Instead of coming personally, Milošević sent one of his right-hand men, who read a speech based on the conclusions of the Serbian party and was greeted with enthusiasm by the crowd (Borba, October 6, 1988, 3).
Meanwhile, the Vojvodina committee was inside, discussing what course of action to take. Outside the building, the pushing and shoving between the crowd and rows of policemen grew more dramatic (Lekić, Pavić, and Lekić. Reference Lekić, Pavić and Lekić2009, 52). Local authorities tried to calm the crowd down by giving them sandwiches and cartons of yogurt. Some in the crowd proceeded to throw yogurt at the committee building, breaking several windows in the process and giving the protest the name “yogurt revolution.” In a last-ditch effort, the Vojvodina leadership contacted Milošević, but he refused to intervene on their behalf (Lekić, Pavić, and Lekić Reference Lekić, Pavić and Lekić2009, 28). Fearing violence, the Vojvodina politicians decided to resign their posts. After the announcement was made, the crowd outside the building slowly began to disperse.
This event was one of the largest and most dramatic protests of the entire antibureaucratic revolution. It ended with a victory of Milošević’s faction. After ousting the Vojvodina politicians, Milošević began a purge throughout the province, encompassing the state, party, and large companies (Vladisavljević Reference Vladisavljević2008, 28). The faction that had ruled over Vojvodina up to the “yogurt revolution” was labeled autonomaši (autonomists), a derogatory term for those who supported Vojvodina’s autonomy from central Serbia. By early 1989, they were defeated constitutionally as well, since Milošević managed to amend the constitution in a way that weakened the autonomy of Vojvodina. To this very day, the “yogurt revolution” is one of the best-known events of the antibureaucratic revolution. Within Vojvodina, the two terms are largely interchangeable.
What is the relevance of Serbia’s antibureaucratic revolution, viewed from a broader vantage point? In terms of Yugoslavia’s subsequent dissolution, the wave of protest that took place in 1988 was crucial. It amplified the already strong centrifugal tendencies that characterized the multi-ethnic federation. For other republics, notably Slovenia and Croatia, the most pertinent aspect of the antibureaucratic revolution lay in the emergence of a newly energized Serbian nationalism. The rise of Milošević as a popular and populist strongman also fed the desire to locate similar leading personalities in other republics. Additionally, the antibureaucratic revolution deeply shaped the subsequent path of Serbia. It provided crucial legitimation for a new form of authoritarian politics that dominated Serbia throughout the 1990s. The protests of the late 1980s never questioned the socialist regime and, indeed, were a plea for more socialism, not less (Musić Reference Musić, Archer, Duda and Stubbs2016). Therefore, Serbia faced difficulties extricating itself from socialism even as the entire East European region embarked on a transition to competitive elections and private property (Vujačić Reference Vujačić2004). This made the whole transitional period more complex and protracted in Serbia.
The popularity of socialism should be underlined: unlike other East European countries, where socialist regimes were established with the help of Soviet tanks, Yugoslav socialism had deep domestic roots in the partisan-led resistance to fascism. So, while the revolutions of 1989 in Poland, Czechoslovakia, and Hungary were revolutions against socialist rule, the events in Yugoslavia were markedly different (Grdešić Reference Grdešić2016, 799). The antibureaucratic protests of 1988 targeted parts of the socialist establishment while strengthening others. The events also played out with assistance from the regime: party-state institutions were crucial in boosting participation and frequently worked with local-level activists and enthusiasts (Vladisavljević Reference Vladisavljević2008, ch. 4). This makes the antibureaucratic revolution rather different from the East European revolutions in which all of society confronted the state (Ekiert Reference Ekiert1996). Instead, the Serbian case is an instance of mobilization in a populist fashion under the auspices of a semi-authoritarian regime (Vladisavljević, this special issue). With the rise of both hybrid authoritarian regimes and the rise of populism globally, the antibureaucratic revolution may provide insights into other cases of mobilization not only under state socialism, but under contemporary authoritarian regimes as well.
Focus Groups
Focus groups provide an inductive way to research the opinions of ordinary people. The collective and interactive character of focus groups is a unique strength of the method (Morgan and Krueger Reference Morgan and Krueger1993). Focus groups make it possible to investigate group meanings and collective norms, including the uncertainties and ambiguities that underline such group assessments (Bloor et al. Reference Bloor, Frankland, Thomas and Robson2001, 4). This allows the researcher to ask questions that are socially and political controversial and receive different, at times opposing, answers. The interactive aspect of focus groups sets them apart from one-on-one interviews since focus groups make it possible for participants to develop ideas based on what their peers say. In particular, people often find it easier to formulate an opinion or attitude if they can formulate it against another opinion or attitude (Puchta and Potter Reference Puchta and Potter2004, 21).
Such interaction between members of a focus group cannot be fully engineered. Moreover, once it occurs, it cannot be completely controlled either. Often, the researcher feels like they are holding a tiger by the tail (Bloor et al. Reference Bloor, Frankland, Thomas and Robson2001, 48). The goal is to try to create the conditions under which such interaction can unfold, while steering the conversation away from potentially destructive or harmful directions. Furthermore, the interactive character of the focus group may be able to generate more honest answers, especially if participants react to each other in a spontaneous manner (Langord and McDonagh Reference Langord and McDonagh2003, 20). Finally, focus groups make it possible for people to use the language they use in their everyday lives. The interaction that takes place in a focus group is like that of any other social setting, which means that most people have spent much of their lives perfecting just such a skill set (Puchta and Potter Reference Puchta and Potter2004, 19; Hennink Reference Hennink2007, 7).
The main drawbacks of focus groups concern their lack of replicability and representativeness (Stewart and Shamdasani Reference Stewart and Shamdasani2015, 47–49). No group could ever hold the same discussion twice, even if they tried. Therefore, replication is a goal that focus groups can never fully reach. With regard to representativeness, the relatively small number of people who usually take part in focus group research makes it impossible to treat the groups as representative of a wider population. Although efforts should be taken to include all relevant subgroups, a focus group is nevertheless not a survey. Rather, the focus group should be used as a tool that can deepen our understanding of a phenomenon, in particular by highlighting the various views that surround a controversial topic and by giving the people an opportunity to present their opinions in their own words. They give research a bottom-up element of popular participation, especially useful in researching joint norms and collective assessments.
A single populist rally was selected as the main locus of research: the “yogurt revolution” that took place in October 1988 in Novi Sad, the capital of Vojvodina. Since focus group discussion can go in multiple directions, focusing on a single event provides a way to keep at least certain aspects of the discussion constant. In addition, the “yogurt revolution” is one of the best-known populist rallies of the entire antibureaucratic revolution. This means that it is still remembered as an important event in the recent political history of Serbia in general and Vojvodina and particular. There are few events that stand out in quite the same way in the entire course of the antibureaucratic revolution.
A total of six focus groups were formed in the town of Novi Sad, with a combined 34 participants. There is no strict rule about the proper number of focus groups, but for most social science purposes, saturation occurs with four to six groups (Morgan Reference Morgan1996, 144). There is also no firm rule with regard to group size, since focus groups can have anywhere from four to 12 participants. In the social sciences, smaller group size is usually preferable (Bloor et al. Reference Bloor, Frankland, Thomas and Robson2001, 27). Smaller groups provide a less intimidating setting for participants. In addition, smaller groups reduce the chances of a particularly dominant individual taking over the debate. A total of 34 people took part in six groups. Thus, the average group had about six members. The smallest had four and the largest seven.
In order to reach potential participants, an advertisement was placed in the local newspaper Dnevnik and a local newspaper that publishes small personal and business advertisements. Fliers were also printed and placed in busy locations, such as post offices. After a television journalist noticed the newspaper advertisement, I was given a chance to appear on local television. Participants were also asked to invite their friends and acquaintances. All in all, the most effective tool for outreach was the advertisement in Dnevnik. However, the fact that it reached a large number of people had certain downsides as well. In particular, it caught the eye of a small right-wing party whose leaders made a public appeal that the research be stopped. Luckily, this incident had little long-term impact, though a few participants decided to withdraw. Nevertheless, it is a reminder that the antibureaucratic revolution is still politically controversial in Serbia and that researchers should be cautious.
Although focus groups are not representative of a wider population, efforts were undertaken to include a mixture of men and women, old and young, blue collar and white collar. The biggest difficulty was reaching women. Out of the 34 participants, only five were women. It is quite possible that this gender imbalance is reflective of the antibureaucratic revolution itself. Indeed, photographs and video footage from the time suggest that crowds were overwhelmingly male. Therefore, the gender imbalance in the focus groups may reflect the broader population of people at rallies. During focus groups, women and men did not present divergent opinions, which suggests that, in all likelihood, nothing dramatically different would have surfaced had more women taken part.
“I Was Literally Infected”: Participants Look Back
How do participants view their participation? Can they see that they contributed, at least in some small measure, to the disastrous outcomes of the 1990s? Such questions raise the issue of personal responsibility and thus pose ethical issues for the researcher. In particular, these concerns need to be raised without making the participants feel shame in any way. However, participants in the focus groups would bring up the issue themselves, often without any prodding. They talked openly about the negative aspects of the antibureaucratic revolution and even their own feelings of guilt for having taken part. Indeed, in most focus groups, they had to be explicitly asked if they also see any positive aspects to the episode.
Several of the participants’ comments show how they approach the topic of individual responsibility: “I now bitterly regret that I took part. I think I bear part of the guilt as a participant.”Footnote 1 Similarly, “I was ashamed that I took part in something so dishonorable.” Or “I didn’t go [to other protests]. I was afraid I would make another mistake [laughter]. Because I feel guilty.” Many associated the antibureaucratic revolution with the beginning of a protracted period of economic crisis that has severely impacted their livelihoods. As they often emphasize, their current situation is one of economic hardship, while they associate the socialist past with a sense of economic security. But they are also aware that the yogurt revolution was an event in which their political involvement was instrumentalized by Milošević, that they were used as a chip in intra-elite conflicts. As one person said, “In the end, it turned out to be a conflict within the party.” For many, it was difficult to see any positive aspects to the yogurt revolution: “I am trying here, to see something nice, positive, I am trying here.” But most participants had a hard time thinking of anything.
On the whole, participants would readily admit that they were swayed by nationalist rhetoric. As one person remembered: “I was literally infected, I would call it an infection of some sort … We went to Kosovo Polje, took pictures there with a kokarda, I was glad to be in that sort of company.” They remembered wearing a kokarda, a metal emblem traditionally worn on caps by Serbian soldiers, including the World War II Četnik movement. This person kept the kokarda as a “reminder of my stupidity.” Another person similarly sees their youthful engagement with nationalism as some sort of infection: “I have to admit that I was pretty enthusiastic about nationalism, intoxicated with nationalism.” Therefore, many participants are willing to admit to taking part in the nationalist euphoria of the time. This enthusiasm also extends to the way they viewed Slobodan Milošević:
– He said what he said a few times and the people put him next to [religious] icons, which is a sin, god forbid.
– Although he was a communist.
– Yes [laughter].
– Terrible sin. At weddings you could not avoid nationalist songs, on religious holidays [slave], at celebrations. And Slobo’s picture had to be as large as possible.
– That’s right.
– He captivated everybody with his charisma, he had style [šlif], he had class [šmek].
Even if they now view Milošević in a different light, participants readily attested to his allure in the late 1980s. Milošević was appealing because he instilled a sense of hope and pride. This included pride in their Serbian identities. As several participants said, he was the first politician who made it possible for Serbs “to say that they were Serbs.” However, this awakening of national sentiment was also attached to manipulation. As one participant person said, “National consciousness was awoken, but I think there was a lot of manipulation after that. We were manipulated, like a million times after that.” As some admit, this type of manipulation depended on a degree of political naivety. For example, one person noted how they idolized Mihalj Kertes, a local ally of Milošević: “I was 46 years old and I acted like I was 15 or 10, listening to this Kertes, like I see god in him. I had a university education and I listen to him and follow him like sheep. Charge! We should charge on the bunker, if necessary! Like it was forty-something [the World War II era], bring them down!” This person admits to behaving as something less than a political adult.
Political naivety and immaturity, partly fostered by the apolitical way of life that most experienced prior to the antibureaucratic revolution, was also combined with a relentless media campaign. One person compared it to Nazi Germany: “It was all propaganda. Goebbels introduced the standards in the thirties. And it was implemented successfully, here, in 1988.” In other words, it is not unusual that so many people were persuaded: “Every day, you say that this juice [on the table] is not really yellow, maybe it’s a little orange, or actually its orange and red, and for one month, several months, this goes on.” The “infection” of which people spoke was partly due to their own weak defenses—since most were politically inexperienced—and partly due to the barrage of Milošević’s allies in the media. Many participants see that they acquiesced to a nationalist agenda and regret this.
Even those who supported Milošević at the time now see themselves as manipulated. The following exchange, rather heated in tone, testifies to this:
– Until half past 1 … when did they resign? We sat there until 3, half past 3, and then let’s go home and back to work.
– You drank, you drank. I have to stop you.
– I never had a drink my whole life.
– It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter. Why didn’t Serbs from here and Serbs from Serbia gather in all those buses and go there [to Kosovo] and help those Serbs? Why were they helping them from Novi Sad?
– Somebody had to lead them there.
– How do you not see that you were manipulated?
– Partly, yes.
– Well why didn’t we get into buses and go down there? … I literally feel sick when I hear such things.
Even persons with diverging views on the antibureaucratic revolution agree that the nationalists manipulated the sentiments of ordinary people. Yet, though explicit nationalism is now rejected, some nationalist sentiments remain. In particular, Albanians are still viewed with the same skeptical eye as they were in the 1980s. One person expressed this sentiment in the following way: “I am glad that I haven’t changed my mind from those times’til today in one way… . I have a son; my daughter-in-law is Slovak, so there’s no nationalism to speak of. Be a human being, it doesn’t matter. Actually, if he had married a Hungarian girl, he would have more fun at night. But, I never liked Šiptars, never… . Just keep them as far away as possible.” As this person says, a diversity of ethnic groups is welcome, but the line is drawn with Albanians, for whom the derogatory expression Šiptar is used. Nationalism is not fully exorcised.
“I Will Never again Go into That Kind of Mass”: Long-Term Legacies
What is the long-term impact of participation in the antibureaucratic revolution? How has this event shaped attitudes toward politics in general? For many, the late 1980s were a time of political awakening. From a state of disinterest, they were suddenly politicized. Politics entered their lives in an unprecedented way. As one participant noted, “Absolutely, it [politics] entered our lives then and has not left since.” Another person echoed this sentiment: “Politics entered all pores, families, individuals, society.” This was an abrupt change. Prior to the late 1980s, politics was not of much interest: “Look, if somebody asked you in 1985 who the president of some [party] committee was, I guarantee that nobody in Belgrade would know. We were depoliticized to such a degree and later so polarized, like you say.” During the final years of socialist Yugoslavia, people started paying a lot more attention to politics.
But since then, the focus group participants indicated, they have become much more passive and apathetic. Of course, this is not solely the fault of the antibureaucratic revolution, since most people in Serbia have since experienced a variety of political and economic shocks. But the antibureaucratic revolution was their real first lesson in mass politics. In general, people have concluded that politics is a dirty business and that it is best to stay away. Therefore, many have become not only passive but also cynical: “We thought we could change something. We changed only the names [of those in power].” There is very little trust in politicians: “There is nobody honest in politics, they are all crooks.” This contrasts strongly with the late 1980s when they invested a lot of hope in politics, including Milošević personally.
Their attitude has swung from one extreme to the other. As one person said, “I would most like it if somebody governed whom I didn’t know, but I had the means to live. To pay what I have to and do what I have to. And so long. What do I care if you are in power or you are?” This particular person is nostalgic about the pre-political state that characterized the socialist period. Given the hardships of the last two or more decades, it is not unusual that people crave economic security. Another person summed it up by saying “you should bow your head like a horse if you want to live like a man.” Many would be willing to exchange the formal political freedoms they now enjoy for a dose of economic security. Indeed, economic nostalgia is very strong. Most see their current economic conditions as much worse than the late 1980s. This deeply influences their attitude toward politics. Overall, their experience with the antibureaucratic revolution and the entire transition period has taught them that not much can be changed through politics. One participant summed it up as follows:
It was a complete fraud. I felt like Wile E. Coyote… . I will never again go [to another protest]. I think about myself, I have to earn some money, eat something, drink something. Eat a pizza, a piece of meat, earn something, spend it all quickly, so that I don’t regret anything… . I live from day to day. I vote, but I don’t discuss politics. In socialism, I now think that the system was nobler than what we have today, which is idiotic and perverse. That one [socialism] was only idiotic. And I will never again go into that kind of crowd.
For many, the central fear is that they would once again be manipulated: “I didn’t go [to other protests]. There were opportunities, far from it. I did not want to be manipulated.” Or, similarly: “I will never go anywhere again [to other protests]. I will not allow somebody to take a million Euros while I think to myself that I matter. I am blind, pathetic, small, I can’t change anything.” Far from instilling a sense of political efficacy, the antibureaucratic revolution seems to have contributed to the opposite: a sense of political weakness.
When they contrasted the socialist with the post-socialist period, many of the focus group participants remarked that the socialist period had certain advantages in the political sphere as well. Despite the fact that the socialist regime is now regarded as authoritarian and the current system as democratic, many participants noted that they felt more confident as citizens then than they do now. They discuss this change in terms of the “depression” that now prevails. For example, a discussion of this aspect took place when one person recalled a recent television commercial in which a woman asks to borrow detergent from her neighbor:
– I saw a commercial the other day, for some detergent. And I think to myself, when was the last time that one of you asked for something [from your neighbors], like, give me some sugar, or coffee?
– She comes in with the sour face! [laughter]
– That was completely normal, you don’t have coffee, you go to the neighbors.
– My mom sent me …
– Nowadays, you don’t say hello to your neighbor.
– That collective depression was not there. You don’t have any, doesn’t matter, you’ll give it back, or you won’t. Because in a week she will take five from you, and you took three, and so it goes in circles.
The following exchange made a similar point:
– The people are afraid.
Moderator: Today?
– Today.
Moderator: And you think it wasn’t like that before?
– We weren’t afraid.
– The people have had it up to here. There is a terrible depression. General, collective.
Moderator: You think there was no depression back then?
– There was less, much less.
These two sequences compare life under socialism and capitalism. Something has been lost, something that was important for the daily lives of ordinary people. This sense of solidarity and trust that participants talk about made it possible to create a society that did not suffer from “collective depression,” as the participants call the contemporary malaise. Naturally, the antibureaucratic revolution is not the sole culprit for this outcome. However, for many in Serbia, this was the first episode of political activism that they were involved with. Instead of empowering them, it convinced them that they can only be pawns in somebody else’s game.
“We All Know How It Is Done”: Conspiracy Theories
The focus group participants were, generally speaking, quite ready to engage their personal political histories critically. Yet, they revealed certain blind spots in the way they perceive the “yogurt revolution” and the broader processes of Yugoslav dissolution. The first blind spot takes the shape of conspiracy theories, that is, a tendency to see the world as driven by secret forces, foreign regimes in particular. The second blind spot takes the shape of urban superiority, a tendency for participants to see themselves as culturally superior to others who come from rural backgrounds. Both of these blind spots deflect responsibility and shift it onto others, either foreign agents or (supposedly) backward citizens.
With regard to conspiracy theories, participants often put the blame on foreign agents. As one person said, “We all know how it is done, how foreign [secret] services do it.” Or, similarly, “Global know-it-alls, Americans, they stirred this up.” The implication is that small countries like Yugoslavia do not really control their political fates. Furthermore, ordinary people living in such countries have even less of an influence: “You see, great powers, they run the show, we can talk all we want.” Or, similarly: “Do I think that these processes were served to us from outside? I think they were.” When politics is approached this way, the responsibility of any individual citizen diminishes significantly. Whatever such a citizen aimed to accomplish, his actions would not amount to much compared to the influence of foreign powers.
Conspiracy theories also connect Milošević to foreign plotting. Although he presented himself as a man of the people, someone who implements the popular will, Milošević may have himself been but a pawn in a larger game. As one person said, “He was a bad imitation of Tito, a man who was set up to do what needed to be done.” The key piece of evidence that participants bring up is the fact that Milošević spent some time in the early 1980s in New York. As one participant said,
[h]e came from America. He was instructed, a banker. He had good offers, American offers, to not come back to Serbia as well as to come back to Serbia. But he de facto played a quasi-statesman role. He destroyed the old Yugoslavia, a state with 25 million people. And this was the goal from the foundation of NATO onwards. This state, this Balkan peninsula, is a very important story, it could not be allowed to survive in that form.
As this person said, Milošević was “instructed” by foreigners and he agreed to play his role in the destruction of socialist Yugoslavia, a thorn in the side of NATO and the West. Yugoslavia was given great geopolitical importance. It had to be destroyed. Milošević’s time in New York was brought up on multiple occasions:
– The foreign factor, that’s right. The foreign factor was very important. You know where Sloba went before he came back?
– America.
– That’s right, that’s right. And they prepared Sloba to destroy Yugoslavia.
Another person noted similarly, “I think this was done on purpose. They were looking for new places for wars. It was convenient to throw among these nations, into this multinational state, some stories. It was no accident. That’s my opinion. It was done this way because Yugoslavia was not convenient for the West.” Milošević takes his place in this foreign play. One person recalled party meetings where they discussed American foreign policy, the ideas of Zbigniew Brzezinski, and the so-called special war against Yugoslavia. The Communist Party was always a setting prone to conspiracy theorizing, since the party was always on the lookout for enemies, either internal or external. Yet it is a testament to the lasting power of conspiracy theories that they still shape the opinion of ordinary people.
At times, however, some participants would object when others brought up conspiracies. For example:
– Look, the man lived in America all those years. I can even imagine that he was implementing certain …
– He was given orders.
– Now you are talking about conspiracy theories.
– But look, the man spoke English, he drank coffee with Rockefeller every morning.
It is interesting to note that one person here objected to the interpretation as conspiracy theorizing. In another focus group, another person also rejected conspiracy theorizing by saying that he is “too small to know who destroyed Yugoslavia and why.” Therefore, not all participants accept conspiracy theories. But for many, conspiracies are rather seductive. They extend the promise of a hidden logic that makes sense of a rather turbulent political period. Perhaps just as importantly, they lighten the responsibility of any single Yugoslav citizen. When faced with the long arm of American intelligence agencies, how could any one Yugoslav citizen have an impact? After all, did Milošević not drink coffee with the Rockefellers each morning?
The fear of (once again) being manipulated by politicians also connects to conspiracy theories. Some participants spoke of the behind-the-scenes organizing as something that necessarily taints large protests: “I think that each large protest is orchestrated by some [secret] service. The people never carry that out by themselves. It’s impossible to gather so many people without orchestration.” Their experience with the yogurt revolution, in which shady actors such as the secret police played an organizing role, makes them skeptical of all large protests. Subsequent protests were therefore often compared to the yogurt revolution: “Everybody who spoke in front of Spens [the sports arena in Novi Sad during the yogurt revolution] advanced, got rich. In 1993, I worked for six or seven German marks… . Next time, when they were bringing Slobo down [in the late 1990s], it was also orchestrated.” The political initiation that most people received in the late 1980s made them see politics in terms of orchestration, cynical manipulation, and conspiracy.
“It Was Imported from Outside”: Urban Superiority
The second blind spot in assessing their personal political histories can be referred to as urban superiority. This is a tendency to view people as segmented into urban and nonurban, the former being politically and culturally more advanced than the latter. In the particular setting of Novi Sad, this division is framed in terms used to describe two groups, terms that are not fully translatable: starosedioci (those who can trace their presence in Novi Sad several generations into the past) and dođoši (those who have arrived more recently). Only the former are pure residents of Novi Sad. They are seen as polite, quiet, tolerant, calm, civil, and disinclined to stir up trouble. Indeed, sometimes they are seen as too passive, for example, if the debate turns to the stereotype of the sleepy lala (resident of Vojvodina). But even if their popular representation is not always positive, it is nevertheless always bound up with a certain respect for others and a disinterest in troublemaking. The other group—dođoši—are people who have not yet internalized the norms of cultured city living.
This divide is ever present in Novi Sad and Vojvodina. Its relevance for the “yogurt revolution” is that participants of focus groups would often shift the responsibility for its less-savory aspects onto those whom they saw as different. The phrase commonly used to express this difference is “mentality” (mentalitet), understood as a set of cultural norms that guide personal behavior. As one person summed it up, “people from Novi Sad don’t have that mentality. The mentality is completely different. It’s not so revolutionary; we are quieter, calmer.” This was something that Milošević and his allies supposedly preyed on:
– This is serious drunkenness. And the hangover has lasted very long. This has absolutely nothing to do with Novi Sad. It was imported from outside.
– That’s right. That’s right.
– Why didn’t [the revolution] happen in Niš, Kraljevo, Kruševac, which are much closer to [Kosovo]? It happened here because they knew that in Novi Sad; they knew the mentality of people here. Well-meaning, sociable, and hospitable.
This person seems to be unaware that large protests did actually take place in the towns they mention in the summer and autumn of 1988. Yet the relevant thing to note here is that they see the people of Novi Sad as incapable of defending themselves: they are too quiet and calm to resist the arrival of unruly outsiders. Another person similarly noted, “When we look at October 5th and 6th, there was very few town-folk, very few people from Novi Sad, very few people from nearby towns … and those who came did so out of curiosity; what is happening here? What are they going to do to us? My people from Kać [town near Novi Sad], what business would they have bringing down the government? It didn’t cross their minds.”
This cleavage is something that radiates outward: the further that one goes, the sharper the difference becomes. Kosovo Serbs are the most extreme case. As one person put it, “My relationship with Serbs from Kosovo was negative. For me, they were a tribal people, the southern regions. I never went to [central] Serbia before I was 20 years old.” This person saw the Kosovo Serbs as backward, a “tribal” people.
Participants would usually reject the possibility that ethnic tensions were present in Novi Sad. Typically, residents of Novi Sad like to see themselves as politically tolerant and open toward a multi-ethnic society. Vojvodina is ethnically mixed. Alongside a Serbian majority, there are sizable numbers of Hungarians, Slovaks, Croats, and others. This is something that people in Vojvodina emphasize with pride. The nationalist aspects of the “yogurt revolution” clash with this stylized representation of benevolent and tolerant multi-culturalism. The following exchange shows how many people see the matter:
– There is hate, personal, but not national.
– I agree with you there.
– There never was, there never will be. Simply, people from Vojvodina don’t have the …
– The gene.
– Yes, for those things, for hate.
Although this attitude was widespread, it was not universally accepted. For example, some participants reject it: “This person from Novi Sad who says they are authentic, that is a lie.” Or similarly: “Can a person live in one place for 100 years and still be a dođoš, how long will he be a dođoš?” Interestingly, however, even those who rejected the label continued to draw lines between themselves and those who arrived in Novi Sad after them. As one such person said, “When I came to Novi Sad, I adapted to it, not the other way around. And those who came after 1995, who were forced to [by wars], they irritated people here; they wanted the setting to adapt to them, which is wrong.” In other words, divisions continue to be drawn even among those who were not born in Novi Sad. Groups are always trying to distinguish themselves as more in touch with that which is supposedly genuine about Vojvodina.
Overall, since the downstream ramifications of the antibureaucratic revolution are seen as negative, the culturally ubiquitous and readily available division between urban insiders and nonurban outsiders can help to do some of the work of blame avoidance: the revolution was something that they did to us, even as we suffer the consequences.
Discussion
Many of the participants in the focus groups saw their involvement in the antibureaucratic revolution in rather negative light. They readily brought up their own responsibility, at times even guilt. They saw that having taken part in Milošević’s antibureaucratic revolution means that they contributed at least somewhat to the disastrous outcomes of the 1990s. Yet it seems that they only wish to go so far in coming to terms with the past. In particular, there are two tactics that participants regularly invoked in order to shield themselves from responsibility. These tactics can be seen as manifestations of unconscious biases that plague even good people, even those who try to act “good” and align their good intentions with good behavior (Banaji and Greenwald Reference Banaji and Greenwald2016, xv). People say that they are willing to take a hard look at their own political past, but they are not fully consistent in actually doing so.
The first way in which participants were seen to have lightened the burden of their own involvement is their invoking of conspiracy theories. Allegedly, the most important decisions of the final years of socialist Yugoslavia were not made within the country. Conspiracy theories offer a tactic of denial, a way to escape a full reckoning with the past (see also Obradović-Wochnik Reference Obradović-Wochnik2013). Conspiracy theories were a well-established part of life under socialism and the immediate postsocialist period (Blanuša Reference Blanuša2011; Živković Reference Živković2012, 225–250; Grdešić Reference Grdešić2016, 789–791). They continue to exist and shape the worldviews of ordinary people three decades after the antibureaucratic revolution. During the socialist period, conspiracy theories combined with official party paranoia. In the immediate transitional period, conspiracy theories offered a way to understand the murky realities of regime change. The fact that conspiracy theories have survived to this day suggests that they are well adapted to many surroundings.
The second tactic is the tendency to invoke divisions between cultured urban residents and uncivilized outsiders. The blame for the unsavory aspects of the antibureaucratic revolution is shifted onto this group: wild outsiders were brought in to cause mayhem. The urban (and urbane) residents were unable to stop them because they were simply too polite. This division between urban and rural is common in the post-Yugoslav space (Jansen Reference Jansen2005a; Reference Jansen2005b; Spasić Reference Spasić2006). Such stereotypes about urban superiority may indeed describe certain aspects of actual behavior, whether because the initial models—drawn up by early 20th century social scientists such as Jovan Cvijić and Dinko Tomašić—were based on a kernel of fact or because people have subsequently lived up to the roles expected of them (Živković Reference Živković1997). More certain, however, is the fact that these divisions are frequently employed by the people themselves as a way to police symbolic divisions.
Another aspect that appeared frequently during the focus groups is nostalgia. Researchers of the post-Yugoslav space have encountered this time and again: the socialist past is seen by focus group participants as a kind of lost paradise (Petrović Reference Petrović and Todorova2010; Kojanić Reference Kojanić2015; Archer Reference Archer2018). This means that researchers must peel back several layers while taking care not to impose any particular view on the focus group participants. When probed a little, the participants did recall the economic hardships of the 1980s. Yet their current economic conditions are so precarious that the economic security of the socialist period dwarfs any nuisance they may have experienced at the time.
The negative appraisal of the antibureaucratic revolution by so many of the focus group participants, even those who were enthusiastic about it at the time, is connected to this shift in their economic circumstances. The revolutionary events of the late 1980s are seen as a watershed moment that divides their lives into two periods: the socialist period that was characterized by economic security and the subsequent period that is marked by its absence. This means that most participants are able to make a direct link from the antibureaucratic revolution to their drop in living standards.
This brings up a limitation of the current study. It is quite possible that where this link cannot be made, for Serbs in Kosovo for example, the antibureaucratic revolution would not be viewed in quite the same way, nor would the focus group participants see much relevance in critically evaluating their participation. However, for the participants of these six focus groups, the long-term legacy of the antibureaucratic revolution is profoundly negative. It contributed decisively to the current material deprivations but also tainted politics for a long time. Indeed, the particular generation of participants who are now reaching old age—and who at the time were in their prime—appears to be more or less lost to all political involvement beyond voting.
These two factors—the economic and the political—are intertwined. The economic security of the socialist period made it possible for people to feel emboldened politically. The current system pacifies them politically by taking away economic security. Of course, it would serve no purpose to admonish participants for being so ready to give up their formal political freedoms in exchange for a dose of economic security. Rather, it may be more fruitful to see economic security as a prerequisite for political engagement.
Seen from a broader vantage point, the detrimental consequences of the antibureaucratic revolution also raise questions about the downstream consequences of social movement participation, especially with regard to the personal biographies of participants. While most social movement scholarship suggests that participation in collective action makes one more likely to participate in the future—that it has empowering effects (McAdam Reference McAdam1989; Reference McAdam1990; Giugni Reference Giugni1998; Reference Giugni, Snow, Soule and Kriesi2007)—the example from Serbia suggests the opposite. Instead of providing people with a sense of political efficacy, the antibureaucratic revolution has helped turn them into jaded and cynical observers of politics. This raises the larger issue of the long-run impact of populist mobilization (Mouzelis Reference Mouzelis1985; Jansen Reference Jansen2011; Reference Jansen2017; Hetland Reference Hetland2014) and how it may differ from other, more conventional forms of collective action. As suggested in this article—and in contrast to conventional contentious action—the impact of populist mobilization on the subsequent political biographies of participants seems to be detrimental.
The antibureaucratic revolution is marked by certain characteristics that set it apart from both typical social movement phenomena and the other East European revolutions of 1989. It took place in a semi-authoritarian setting in which Machiavellian elites used existing party-state resources to boost mobilization in populist ways and did not shy away from various forms of political manipulation, especially with regard to the mass media. The generation that was politicized by the antibureaucratic revolution learned that politics can only ever be a very dirty business. This suggests a more general implication for social movement scholarship: mobilization undertaken through populist means—cases in which participants lose their autonomy and are not aware of the particulars of who has mobilized them into action and why—risks the distinct possibility of subsequent disenchantment.
Acknowledgments.
I thank Tijana Radić, Rory Archer, Viktor Koska, Goran Musić, Tamara Petrović, Nebojša Vladisavljević, Veljko Vujačić, and the participants of the focus groups.
Disclosure.
Author has nothing to disclose.
