Mavericks on the Road

It's true that the Serbs across the Drina are at war and live under regimes even more repressive than the one in Belgrade but if it's any consolation they're allowed to do some things under the terms of clear thinking and economic interests. For example, a restaurant owner near Bijeljina can list her prices in dinars and German marks at the 2:1 exchange rate although the real black market rate is 2.3:1. The further west you go the weaker the mark; in Okucani it trades for 2.1 dinars and in far away Pakrac for 1.9. Freshly minted bank notes can't get to those distant places at once but the real reason for the low price of the mark seems to be the flourishing black market in gasoline.

The opening of the highway through Okucani provided the local population an opportunity to buy gasoline at Croatian gas stations at reasonable prices and resell it at much higher prices in the Bosnian Serb republic (RS). The whole area suddenly flourished, empty restaurants and bars suddenly filled up, farmers bought relatively cheap fuel for the spring works and the number of businessmen from Korenica, Gradiska, Banja Luka, Glina is rising in Okucani. Trade is flowing the other way as well; after hearing that beef was expensive in Croatia some of the braver farmers started bringing their calves down to the highway.

"The loudest opponents of reopening the highway were the first to start smuggling," one Pakrac resident said.

His friend voiced suspicions: "How are our people on the front lines going to trade with the Croats on the front lines. They'll reveal things about our positions. We're that kind of people. I don't like this at all."

None of the smugglers are concerned about local skeptics but they are worried about something else. Despite the agreement allowing residents of the Republic of Serb Krajina (RSK) to travel the highway freely they need permission from the army. Army permits are issued selectively and many suspect that local power brokers are making sure of securing a monopoly on smuggled goods. So people drive over fields only to find another obstacle in Croatia; fuel is paid for in the Croatian currency (kuna) which Serbs don't have. They can buy kunas at ridiculously high rates (2.8 kuna for the mark although the official rate is 3.6 kuna). If they're smart enough to get around that obstacle they still have to get around the RS customs officers, police and military police who let few things go by on the bridge across the Sava at Gradiska.

People still get through. Traffic on the Gradiska-Pakrac road is rare but judging by the basketball court set up on the road itself, it was even rarer until recently. To get from Gradiska to Pakrac you have to cross the Zagreb-Belgrade railway which has not been in use for four years. Workers are fixing the railway but they don't know when the first train to Zagreb is going to come through. The opening of the railway was planned for April 15 but no one is prepared to bet on that date . An agreement has been reached but you always have to count on "hawks".

"Most" group volunteers play with children in a makeshift plastic cottage they got from the UN; there are around 220 children in Pakrac and no kindergarten. The "Most" group is a humanitarian organization from Belgrade which has been trying to help the people in the devastated and divided town for a year now. So far they have got women to knit sweaters which were later sold in Belgrade's shops, they worked with children, taught young people to weave tapestries, organized the collecting of herbs, got clothes and shoes for the children, brought in seed for farmers, got a TV and video recorder for the youth club, secured funds to buy school equipment and they're engaged in improving the personnel image of the local community.

That aid can seem symbolic at first but it is very precious to Pakrac. Don't forget the psychological dimension: children are helped to get over traumas of war and prepare for a time of renewal.

"Pakrac lacks everything but it's encouraging that something is being done," Obrad Ivanovic, the local community chairman, told VREME. "We're restoring 100 houses and the republican government will finance 10 temporary housing facilities for teachers and offices. I think the local community will survive only through work, and in expectation of a political solution to the RSK-Croatia talks."

Dusan Svilarevic, local secretary for social activities, listed the things they lack: school and medical equipment, a bus for high school kids who travel to Okucani, elementary school teachers, English teachers, a doctor, pharmacist, veterinary.

It's clear that without the basic infrastructure no one will be able to keep the people here and western Slavonia has already lost two thirds of its Serb population: some 65,000 Serbs (official estimates) were expelled from 185 villages around Pakrac, Daruvar, Vocin, Grubisino Polje... Most of the houses in the region were torched by Croatian troops who still control the area. In mid-1992, local Serb leader Veljko Dzakula toured around 90 villages and tried to reach an agreement with the Croatian authorities on a gradual return of refugees on condition that the make up of the police (armed only with pistols) be in accord with the ethnic make up of the population and that UNPROFOR oversee the whole thing. Those talks resulted in the Daruvar agreement between local Serb and Croat authorities. It included restoring the power and water supply systems, free passage along the highway, repairs of rail and telecommunication lines, a joint commission to normalize life and bring all refugees back, checkpoints under UNPROFOR control so people can meet on both sides of the front lines. Divided families and friends really did start meeting at those points but the central authorities in Zagreb quickly distanced themselves from the agreement. In the RSK things were even worse; the agreement was rejected, the signatories were labeled traitors and three of the signatories (Dzakula, Dusan Ecimovic and Mladen Kulic) were dismissed, arrested, beaten and kidnapped.

The mood has changed in the meantime, the RSK and Croatia signed an economic agreement, the highway has opened and Pakrac has asked the RSK government to reopen the meeting points. For the time being, there is practically no contact between Pakrac Serbs and Croats although the dividing line runs right through the center of the town.

The Croatian side of Pakrac is developing slowly. Three fourths of the Pakrac center are under Croatian control including almost all the high rises, hospital and all important economic facilities. As far as we could find out, the Croats have the same problems the Serbs do; intellectuals and experts have left and aren't coming back.

The Serbs in Pakrac have mixed emotions: people long for contacts with others across the line and fear those contacts at the same time. "We can't live without each other," said a local commenting the smuggling.

Prices in Pakrac are slightly higher than in Belgrade and average salaries aren't over the RSK average of 150 dinars a month. Many people are in the army (150 dinars for soldiers on contract and 90 for others) but most are jobless.

Apart from smuggling, people live from small scale farming and dangerously thin foreign currency savings. They get by somehow but with an ever-present fear: of the Croats who they fought against and are now trading with; of the Security Council decision on the UNPROFOR mandate; of the authorities in Belgrade and Knin who tricked them before; of the opening (and closing) of communication lines; of international humanitarian workers (we don't know if they're spying); of snow; of rain; of drought and poverty. They also fear themselves a little bit and their tempers.