Unfinished, but Ready

TIME Reporter Judith Friedberg concluded a four-week tour through Yugoslavia, reported:

EXPERIMENT is the rule throughout every phase of Tito's Yugoslavia, and the general result is regimented confusion. Much of the government resembles the experimental laboratory of a university: a lot of kids--some with textbooks still in hand--are trying to run a country.

Betterment projects--roads, schools, housing developments, steel mills--are begun and never completed. At Zenica, slated to be the Pittsburgh of Yugoslavia, you see it spelled out. Peasants undertaking to become skilled workers wander back to the land. Youth brigades are digging foundations for a rolling mill--a job best done by trained laborers with bulldozers and steamshovels. But bulldozers and cement mixers stand idle because no one apparently has been able to train the men to use them. The labor force is unstable because it is at the mercy of any bureaucrat's interpretation of the Plan. "Just when we get a good gang of men working," said a U.S. engineer at Zenica, "some joker decides to send them to another job."

I asked Mosa Pijade, the tiny, hunched intellectual who presides over the party's long-range thinking about this chronic indirection and indecision. He began with the standard visionary explanation: "Now you see only the difficulties and restrictions. We have no results yet, but we make big things, hydroelectric plants, steel mills. These take time, much work, manpower, but when the day comes when we can produce, then you shall see." Then he introduced a twist: "When we made the first five-year plan, we were full of ideas we had received and accepted from the U.S.S.R. without any criticism. If we had had then the ideas we have now, we would have made our revolution differently--not necessarily with more attention to consumer goods, but certainly in different proportions."

Grim Jaws. I found few rank & file Yugoslavs who looked that far ahead with that much optimism. Why then do the people set their jaws grimly and bear the confusion and hardship? Apathy is part of the answer. It is easier to get along with the police state than to stand up to it.

The apathy extends to the youth--the sought-after darlings whom the Tito Reds woo with special treatment and propaganda. I went to a youth demonstration to celebrate the partial completion of dormitories for Belgrade's new University City on the Zemun Marshes. Thousands of teen-agers billed as students had worked here for months in "Voluntary Labor Brigades." With the major construction done (though floors and windows were not in), the volunteers had been summoned to a monster rally.

Remembering tales of the Hitlerjugend and the pictures of young Komsomols in Red Square, I expected to see precision, enthusiasm, rah-rah, songs and dances. Instead I found several thousand grimy youngsters in faded khaki fatigues, wandering aimlessly or just standing, looking bored. There were a few flags and some banners with slogans. A few tired songs came from loudspeakers, which were the only things in topflight working order. At length the youth leaders stepped to the improvised platform and began to make their pitch to the crowd. Almost nobody seemed to be paying attention. Some of the audience cleaned their nails, others polished muddy boots. A few nudged each other and grinned. The rest dozed in the sun as the speakers droned on: "Socialism, Five-Year Plan," etc., etc.

Dragging Feet. Now & then Tito's name cropped up. Eager shock workers and some of the political leaders planted up front would dutifully bellow: "Tito, Tito, Tito." Ten rows back there was scarcely a murmur. After an hour and a half, the last speaker folded his notes, someone let out a faint "Tito, Tito, Tito" and the meeting ended. The youths began filing out--more or less in step, more or less in order. Seeing foreigners, one or two of the group leaders called for more snap in the marching. It didn't last long. As I drove away, the kids were slouching along in semi-formation, their flags barely off the grounds.

But on the issue that counts most for the West--resistance to the Russians--apathy stops; Tito has his people behind him. In fact, his break with the Russians was his most popular move.

The Yugoslavs view their sketchy new entente with the U.S. against Russia with the same relief that Peter showed welcoming the wolf hunters. At the Nov. 29 reception at the Praesidium (the former Royal Palace) marking the Republic's fifth birthday, English was the language, and the Yugoslav cordiality to Americans was as warming as the kognak. Marshal Tito, a large diamond flashing from his left hand, tried out his English, somewhat self-consciously. He commiserated with me over New York's recent "uhricane."

It is plain that the Yugoslavs are now ready to fight. But are they able to do so? An American viewing rank & file soldiers as they march in most unmilitary fashion down a road might doubt the Yugoslav capacity to stop an attack. But if he takes a good look, he sees tough kids, stolid and nerveless. They have never been coddled. Their officers are young. They have no PXs, no U.S.O.s; their rations and pay are at rockbottom. But they have been taught to handle their weapons; they know the rudiments of guerrilla warfare. At the Nov. 29 reception, a Yugoslav general said to me: "If it comes to war, you of the West will be safer here than anywhere else on the Continent--Yugoslavia's army will fight."

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