Real Change Not Expected in Serbia Vote

When the people of Serbia go to the polls this weekend to elect a new president, this is their choice: the milquetoast proxy of dictator Slobodan Milosevic or a bombastic and violent proponent of ethnic purity.

Serbians will vote Sunday for a replacement for Milosevic. After two terms as president of Serbia and barred from serving a third, Milosevic in July decided to instead become president of Yugoslavia, which now consists of Serbia and its ally Montenegro.

Ten years of Milosevic’s strong-arm rule have so perverted the political system in Serbia, analysts and diplomats say, that there is little ground for democratic development. That, combined with the weaknesses and petty divisions in opposition forces, leaves Serbia apathetic and despairing of real change.

Newspapers have given only token coverage to the election, which also includes races for 250 parliamentary seats.

Instead, they have focused more on political intrigue in Montenegro and in the neighboring Republika Srpska, the Bosnian Serb-controlled regions of Bosnia-Herzegovina.

Opinion polls, notoriously unreliable in Serbia, nevertheless give high percentages to those who won’t vote or won’t say. One survey put Milosevic’s man in the lead: Zoran Lilic, an obedient member of Milosevic’s Socialist Party of Serbia. Lilic was Milosevic’s predecessor as president of Yugoslavia, but he barely made a ripple when he held that until-now ceremonial post.

The same poll showed Vojislav Seselj slipping into second place after months at the top. Seselj is an ultranationalist who formed paramilitary squads that drove Croats and Muslims out of villages in Croatia and Bosnia at the start of the recent Balkans war.

Asked once if he was bothered that many people fear his fascist tendencies, Seselj responded:

“I’ve been accused of being a homosexual and of being a Croat. Those are far worse accusations. . . . We are chauvinists. We hate Croats. What is fascist about that?”

Many analysts believe that Seselj is merely a tool used by the Socialists to destroy real opposition, and that the Serbian Radical Party leader would never pose a true threat to Socialist control.

Another candidate who has lately moved up in the polls is the erratic, flamboyant Vuk Draskovic, who, with other opposition leaders, rallied tens of thousands of demonstrators week after week last winter to protest election fraud.

Those demonstrations represented the most sustained challenge ever to Milosevic and created enormous expectations. But today, Draskovic and his partner in leading the protests, Democratic Party chief Zoran Djindjic--who in February became mayor of Belgrade--are at each other’s throats. The momentum of last winter is a distant memory not likely to be revived.

Draskovic on Thursday night closed his campaign with a large rally in downtown Belgrade and a promise of “big, historic democratic change” on election day.

Djindjic is one of several politicians supporting a boycott of Sunday’s election. The boycott comes over the objections of U.S. officials, including special envoy Richard Holbrooke.

“We have to say ‘enough’ to the violence, humiliation, national and civic collapse,” Djindjic told the Belgrade magazine Nin. “The race is a farce. . . . These elections are being staged in a way that will make everyone sick of politics so that everybody loses hope that things in Serbia can be different or better than now.”

The boycotters contend that promises Milosevic made last winter to an international mediating team, led by former Spanish Prime Minister Felipe Gonzalez, have not been kept and that conditions for a free and fair vote do not exist. Milosevic at the time agreed to several reforms, including opening the media to opposition voices.

Although Draskovic gets more air time now than before, Milosevic tinkered with voting districts to dilute potential opposition strength. He resisted allowing independent international election monitors, relenting only under pressure.

While the politicians bicker, Serbia sinks into deeper malaise and international isolation. Only a big infusion of cash from the bargain-basement sale of the state telecommunications system allowed the government to pay long overdue pensions and health benefits. Just in time for the election.