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Croatian Corn Belt Becomes a Bargaining Chip : Yugoslavia: Serbia has gained control. The region will be vital to talks between the warring republics.

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SPECIAL TO THE TIMES

The silence envelops the streets here. On a sunny summer afternoon, the window blinds are drawn and the central cafes have more empty tables than customers.

This county seat of the lush land wedged between the Danube and the Drava rivers fell quickly in clashes between Serbian irregulars and national guard forces of the breakaway Yugoslav republic of Croatia.

But since the territory--known as Baranja--fell under control of Serbian nationalists and the Yugoslav army last week, a veil of secrecy has fallen over what makes up 27% of Croatia’s only commercial agricultural region. It is an area that Croatian government analyst Marijan Zivkovic pointed to on a map and said, “That is Kansas.”

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With its hundreds of acres that can be farmed, and its dairy, agricultural machinery, livestock and sugar industries, the Croatian corn belt promises to become a prime bargaining chip as leaders of the warring Yugoslav republics of Croatia and Serbia sit down for talks over the 73-year-old nation’s future.

Before it was taken over, the area surrounding Beli Manastir had a population that was 41% Croatian and 25% Serbian, with the rest being Hungarians or Gypsies, according to government estimates.

Now many area residents are turning up in refugee centers. Hundreds are missing and some are believed dead. And Croatian government officials admit that they have no firm idea of what is happening in the region. An estimated 20,000 refugees from the area have fled over the Hungarian border alone, said Davor Krtic, the main secretary for the crisis committee of the region.

Since the region collapsed, Serbian officials have set up a government, taken control of the Croatian radio and television tower and are broadcasting programming from the Yugoslav capital of Belgrade, Croatian officials said.

Now, on the outskirts of the region, half a dozen tanks and twice the number of other Yugoslav army vehicles have set up camp. The Yugoslav flag bearing a red star flies from the main checkpoint. The flag of Croatia and its checkerboard shield is used as a doormat for one of the buildings used by the rival Serbs.

Serbian nationalists, aided by the Yugoslav army, quashed any resistence quickly, Croatian officials said. The entire region collapsed within 10 days, said Zlatko Kramaric, mayor of Osijek, the nearest major city.

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Reporters trying to travel in the region have been stopped and questioned. One Croatian reporter is missing. One group of photographers came under fire and abandoned their car in the zone on Sunday.

“This is our holy land. You cannot understand this. We’re not interested in Western opinion or what the world thinks of us,” Ilija Celar told a small group of the first Western reporters to reach the capital since its siege. “We have our truth.”

Celar, one of the Serbian irregulars holding the region, declined to describe what had happened in the area. A quick tour of the area showed shattered windows and some evidence of machine-gun fire, but little other, visible damage.

The stories, instead, came from refugees like Mato Posavac. Just over the Hungarian border, he sipped a cold beer and relaxed in the shade, moments after fleeing his home in Beli Manastir. He said he was going to bypass much of the unsecured territory in Yugoslavia to drive across Hungary to a more secure part of Croatia.

“The army came with tanks, and, after that, you couldn’t do anything,” he said. He said the guerrillas gunned down his grandfather as he sat outside their house. He said they shot at him, too, but missed. “They went from house to house and shot everyone who hadn’t run away. Now, I’m going. And I’m not coming back (to Beli Manastir) until Croatia is a free country.”

For those who remain on the streets of towns, like Batina, deeper in the region, life seemed calm. But it was impossible to miss the two tanks stationed on either side of a bridge in the middle of town.

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One Batina resident, fearful of giving his name, said he saw 87 tanks leave for clashes between Croatian national guardsmen and Serbian nationalist guerrillas. He appealed to Serbian President Slobodan Milosevic and Croatian President Franjo Tudjman to settle their differences.

“We do not have any problems here,” he said, wiping tears with the back of his hand. “We have neighbors who are Serbs (and) Hungarians. We go to their house for dinner. And they come over to ours. . . . I wish I could tell everyone to live this way. We all walk on the same land. Everyone has children. Let’s have people think of that.”

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