Yugoslavia, once my homeland, was a European country that existed in the 20th century. This socialist federation of six republics was one of the most ethnically diverse societies in the world. Ruled by a charismatic authoritarian leader, but with important democratic liberties preserved, Yugoslavia successfully balanced between East and West in the bipolar world established after WWII.
But the Cold War ended, and the country failed to adapt to new realities. As a result of exclusionary politics that quashed reformist voices and ignored rising nationalisms, Yugoslavia disintegrated in a series of brutal wars in the 1990s. While the conflicts raged, those who identified as Yugoslavs, forgoing their original ethnic categorization and embracing a supranational sense of community, were labeled as traitors of ethnic interests.
New, troubled nations arose from the ashes of Yugoslavia, forging their newfound statehoods by revising their history and suppressing the traces of their shared past. The old model of the collective Yugoslav memory, one that was founded on the ideas of brotherhood and unity, peace and reconciliation after WWII, was replaced with nationalist mythology. Gradually, fewer and fewer people considered themselves Yugoslavs, reverting to their nominal ethnic groups.
The Last Yugoslavs documents the aftermath of a violent dissolution of a multiethnic society. It delves into the factors that shape the identity and memory of the people living in this forgotten enclave in the heart of Europe. Two decades after the cessation of hostilities, the seven countries birthed from the collapse of Yugoslavia remain clinched in post conflict mode, lost in the murky waters of endless transition. War, trauma and fear define day to day life, persisting as the central elements that mold personal identity and collective experience. The nationalist ideas responsible for the Yugoslav conflicts still dominate the public discourse, and the region continues to float somewhere between bloodshed and peace, in a prolonged state of uneasy truce.
This work examines the identities of those who remain Yugoslavs - more than twenty years after the bloody demise of their beloved homeland. This marginalized group often ignore the negative aspects of life under the old autocratic rule, equating Yugoslavia to Utopia. Yet, by tying their collective identity to a country that no longer exists, they struggle to preserve the memory and the values of Yugoslavia, seeking to revive the tolerant, multicultural ideas it symbolized.
Through taking portraits, documenting the reunions and private lives of Yugoslavs, I look to explore pieces of individual and collective memory of the former country. Contrasting the images of Yugoslavs against those of transitional realities surrounding them sets a critical view of the societies that inherited Yugoslavia. Impaired with a legacy of violence, populist politics, failed economies, the new states fall miserably short of achieving the standards of life, personal liberty and human rights of a flawed, authoritarian, albeit functioning system of the past.
This subject gains in importance as the worldly affairs are dominated by post-truth narratives. Xenophobia and populism are resurgent in America and Europe. The brutal decomposition of Syria and the continued conflicts in Afghanistan and Iraq sent waves of refugees through the Balkans, and the history of Yugoslavia intersected with world history once more. Hundreds of thousands of people fleeing from war in their home countries passed through farms, fields and towns that were once on the front lines of the Yugoslav conflicts. This confluence of broken multiethnic societies emphasizes the parallels between Yugoslavia’s collapse and the new universal existence, full of cruelty and uncertainty. In today’s world, the Yugoslav wars and the ideologies that triggered them seem not the shadows of the past, but a prediction of the future, the forefront of the new global reality of the 21st century.
In the aftermath of war, the dead are counted, the displaced return, the physical wounds heal, the damage is repaired, and the focus and empathy of others eventually move on. But identity and memory, both personal and collective, are casualties of conflict that often go overlooked. These essential aspects of human existence are damaged by the brutality of war, the trauma it induces and the ideologies it brings forth. Shedding light on these factors, their correlation and their extent into the fabric of society aims to open new channels of communication on the causes and consequences of the Yugoslav wars. If we fail to explore our common history and collective memory to a higher degree, we run the risk of violence dominating our future, as it dominated our past.
