 |
||||||||
 |
||||||||
|
||||||||
|
Yugoslav police allow key strike
©New York Times © St. Petersburg Times, published October 5, 2000 KOLUBARA, Yugoslavia -- If the regime of Slobodan Milosevic breaks and Vojislav Kostunica takes office as Yugoslavia's president, it could be because of what happened Wednesday at a coal mine here.
But the strikers refused, calling for help. Confronted with up to 20,000 ordinary people pouring into the mine to defend the workers, some from as far away as the central Serbian city of Cacak and from Belgrade, the capital, 40 miles to the northeast, the police stood aside. The police watched as Kostunica himself arrived Wednesday night, pushing through the crowd of miners and their families, to cheers and shouts of "president," coming closer to claiming the office he says he won with an outright majority in elections Sept. 24. "I will be with you until we defend what we won on Sept. 24," Kostunica said. "Is there anything more honest than the miners of Kolubara rising to defend their votes?" Some miners began to chant; some cried. "I'm telling you, what you are doing here is not subversion," Kostunica shouted, his voice breaking up over the primitive sound system set up beside him on the steps of a single-story wooden office building. "You are defending the people's will, and those who step on the people's will and try to steal their votes are the ones committing subversion." Kostunica vows not to take part in a second-round runoff against Milosevic on Sunday, saying that the government stole votes and faked the election results. He is appealing to Milosevic to recognize his defeat and step down to spare the country. The opposition is planning a huge rally in Belgrade today, which it hopes will be decisive and will push Milosevic out. On Tuesday, the Serbian government issued a stern warning to the organizers of this spreading strike, saying that they would be arrested for action that "threatens citizens' lives, disrupts normal functioning of traffic, prevents normal work of industry, schools, institutions and health facilities." The government has accused the strikers here of subverting the national interest, and early Tuesday sent the country's top general, Gen. Nebojsa Pavkovic, to tell the workers to go back to work or face punishment. Blaming the miners, the government began power cuts all over Serbia, and a judge issued a warrant for the arrest of 11 strike leaders, plus two opposition politicians. But the police failed to make the arrests Wednesday. Miners said they had behaved correctly and, said Dragan Micandinovic, an electrical engineer, with "a sense of shame." Micandinovic has remained here for three days except for two brief visits home to see his children. "During the NATO war, we worked four shifts, including Sundays, and the government called us heroes," he said bitterly. "I was here and saw the missiles flying over my head. Now the government calls us enemies. "But we are victims," he said. "Their victims." Slavoljub Sajic, a mechanical engineer, said, "This is the heart of the protest, the heart of Serbia, and we're not leaving until Milosevic leaves." Police hung back while Kostunica spoke but did not immediately withdraw from the office buildings and other facilities they had occupied earlier in the day. Wednesday night, workers were negotiating with them about whether they would withdraw altogether but expressed confidence that the police could not get the mine going again. The police, in camouflage uniforms and riot gear, with helmets and batons, arrived about 11 a.m. when only about 100 workers were gathered. "They came from all directions," Micandinovic said. "They threatened us and told us to leave or they would drag us out. It was very risky. "There are a lot of people here now," he said. "But it was pretty risky this morning." The police set up a cordon around the mine with roadblocks and moved into offices, talking with a strike committee and the management, who are supporting the workers. But Micandinovic and others began to telephone opposition politicians in nearby Lazarevac, 30 miles south of Belgrade, and independent Radio Lazarevac spread the news. Relatives, workers and ordinary people began to come toward the mine, some dodging the police roadblocks by crossing fields and streams. By early afternoon about 1,000 people were trapped behind a police roadblock on a bridge just outside the mine itself. Two opposition politicians, Vuk Obradovic, a former general, and Dragoljub Micunovic, negotiated with the police, to no avail. "This shows the weakness of the regime," Micunovic said as he stood at the bridge. "They are faking this campaign of an electricity shortage to frighten people and make them suffer and blame it on the opposition." The Kolubara coal mine is critical, he said. "Copper mines are on strike, too, but people can live without copper, not without electricity." But the police were clearly unhappy with their orders, Micunovic said, adding, "Both sides are being very patient." A bus full of protesters moved slowly through the crowd and, almost gently, shoved aside a police van blocking the bridge. The crowd surged forward; the police moved aside, looking sheepish. Some protesters gave them apples and clapped them on their shoulders. The mood on the long walk from the bridge to the strike headquarters was that of exhilaration, even as opposition leaders sped by in cars and buses. Then more cars moved by, with license plates from Cacak and other towns, full of people who had come to defend the mine. People shouted, "Cacak! Cacak!" and the slogan of the student resistance movement, "Otpor!" ("He's finished!") Nadia Ruegg told the police to let her through to see her brother, Aleksandar Nikitic. "When I asked the guy, "Do you have a brother?' he didn't answer," she said. "Then he told us, "We won't beat you.' And we told them, "Well, we won't beat you either.' " In 1914, Kolubara was the site of one of the most famous Serbian victories, when the Serbs turned back the Austro-Hungarian army. The "Kolubarska bitka," or "Kolubara battle," became part of nationalist folklore, and the famous writer and later, briefly, Yugoslav president, Dobrica Cosic, featured it in his novel, Time of Death. That part of the novel became a stage play in Belgrade in 1986, as Serbian nationalism was growing. At one point, the Serbs wait for ammunition from the French, but when it arrives it turns out to be the wrong caliber. As the soldiers start to wail and weep, the commander turns to the audience and says, "Don't cry, no one can do anything to us." On the Kolubara coal field Wednesday evening, those words were echoed by Milanko Bulatovic, a miner here for 26 years, who has been here every day of the strike from 6:30 in the morning until the evening. "This is the end of him," he said. "This is the beginning of the new Serbia. Milosevic cannot do anything to us now." In other developments Wednesday: Yugoslavia's highest court, in an apparent attempt to buy time for Milosevic, invalidated parts of the presidential election. The ruling came in a case brought by the opposition, which sought to have Kostunica declared the winner. Instead, the constitutional court, dominated by Milosevic supporters, annulled "parts" of the election. The state news agency Tanjug said details would be released today. If the presidential vote or parts of it must be repeated, it could prolong Milosevic's hold on power. There were signs that Milosevic's control over the media was fraying. The main state-run daily in the northern province of Vojvodina declared Wednesday that its editorial policy would switch from following the government line to reporting on events objectively. Its Wednesday edition for the first time carried reports on opposition activities. -- Information from the Associated Press was used in this report.
 © 2006 • All Rights Reserved • St. Petersburg Times
490 First Avenue South • St. Petersburg, FL 33701 • 727-893-8111 
|
From the Times wire desk
From the AP |
