[BRIEF NOTE] The Fate of Croatia's Krajina
Croatia's 1995 Operation Storm offensive resulted in the destruction of the Republic of Serbian Krajina and the flight of most of Croatia's Serbs. B. Vekic wrote in September 1995 for the Yugoslav newsmagazine, Vreme that this flight, involving the depopulation of a good-sized chunk of Croatia, would have permanent effects.
Judging from the current situation, most of Krajina will remain unpopulated. World statistics show that only one-fourth of the displaced people decide to return to their homes and Croatia will probably not be be the exception. But Knin, which did not suffer heavy damage and which lies on an important communications route and close to the seaside, stands a good chance of starting to live again very soon - with new inhabitabts, of course. Some 600 applications have been received so far for the renting of business premises in the town. Similar will happen with Petrinja, Plitvice and places in the valleys of the Kupa and Una rivers.
Unless these areas are repopulated by next spring (which is technically infeasible) or the Serb refugees return to their homes (which is politically infeasible) - grass and weeds will overgrow towns and villages in Krajina and that will be the region's second death.
In 1998, the Neue Zürcher Zeitung's Anders Weysling wrote an article, "Looking for Life in the Ghost Towns of Croatia (cached copy available here). Weysling concluded that the prospects of a lasting resettlement of the area--whether by returnees or by new settlers--are low, save in the most economically favourable areas.
Nearer the Bosnian border, however, farther down the road through the green hilly landscape, the uncomfortable feeling of emptiness quickly returns. There are many houses with new windows and tiled roofs in the hamlets, and here and there fields have been freshly plowed. But, again, the people are missing. In Donji Ladjevac an old Croat peasant woman stands in a blossoming garden. She fled with her family and neighbors in 1991. In 1995 she came back with her husband, right after the Croatian "storm." The house and stall had been plundered and burned. "We worked for seven years in Germany for the house. Now we are living in a tool shed." The strength of the old people is limited, causing reconstruction to move sluggishly. There is still no barn; the dog is their only livestock. Nor do they have a tractor and plow. The son and daughter-in-law come on weekends to help out, but they have no plans to return to live in the village. The young woman is especially opposed to that idea. She has a job in the city and little desire to resume the strenuous life of a peasant in an out-of-the-way village.
Judging from the current situation, most of Krajina will remain unpopulated. World statistics show that only one-fourth of the displaced people decide to return to their homes and Croatia will probably not be be the exception. But Knin, which did not suffer heavy damage and which lies on an important communications route and close to the seaside, stands a good chance of starting to live again very soon - with new inhabitabts, of course. Some 600 applications have been received so far for the renting of business premises in the town. Similar will happen with Petrinja, Plitvice and places in the valleys of the Kupa and Una rivers.
Unless these areas are repopulated by next spring (which is technically infeasible) or the Serb refugees return to their homes (which is politically infeasible) - grass and weeds will overgrow towns and villages in Krajina and that will be the region's second death.
In 1998, the Neue Zürcher Zeitung's Anders Weysling wrote an article, "Looking for Life in the Ghost Towns of Croatia (cached copy available here). Weysling concluded that the prospects of a lasting resettlement of the area--whether by returnees or by new settlers--are low, save in the most economically favourable areas.
Nearer the Bosnian border, however, farther down the road through the green hilly landscape, the uncomfortable feeling of emptiness quickly returns. There are many houses with new windows and tiled roofs in the hamlets, and here and there fields have been freshly plowed. But, again, the people are missing. In Donji Ladjevac an old Croat peasant woman stands in a blossoming garden. She fled with her family and neighbors in 1991. In 1995 she came back with her husband, right after the Croatian "storm." The house and stall had been plundered and burned. "We worked for seven years in Germany for the house. Now we are living in a tool shed." The strength of the old people is limited, causing reconstruction to move sluggishly. There is still no barn; the dog is their only livestock. Nor do they have a tractor and plow. The son and daughter-in-law come on weekends to help out, but they have no plans to return to live in the village. The young woman is especially opposed to that idea. She has a job in the city and little desire to resume the strenuous life of a peasant in an out-of-the-way village.