The Eastward expansion of the European Union has once again spotlighted the tragic events taking place on the Eastern border and put forward the need to find a reasonable solution for the exiles’ problem.

The now imminent entry of Slovenia into the European Union and into NATO and the prospect that Croatia will follow within a few years have caused the Eastern border problems to re-emerge, after having being shelved for a rather long period by Italian public opinion. Reintroducing the Eastern border problems with the purpose of improving our integration with our neighbours does not involve requesting an impossible return to the 1939 frontiers, but rather the requirement to finally tackle, with a European approach, a whole range of problems which are still outstanding despite the subsequent Italo-Jugoslav treaties: the restitution of the assets the Venezia Giulia and Dalmatia citizens were confiscated at the time of the exodus, a redefinition of the Trieste gulf territorial waters, a greater protection for our own minorities who remained in ex-Jugoslavia upon the withdrawal from Istria and the ban of the many restrictions which are still imposed, both by Lubiana and by Zagabria, with respect to our economical and cultural enterprises. The opening of the frontiers requires us above all to overcome a reciprocal heritage and a historically deep-rooted hostility, which went through its most tragic times before and during the twenty years of Fascism, with our clumsy attempt to “Italianize” the multiethnic provinces conquered in 1918, and then during the last months of World War II, when the Slovenian and Croatian winners carried out, on the Italians living in the lands which they had taken possession of, a bloody ante litteram ethnic cleansing, which culminated in the doline horror. It has been impossible to assess the exact number of victims for this operation, which was conducted between September 1943, when Tito’s supporters took advantage of the disbandment of the Italian army to carry out a first invasion of Istria, and 1945, when they occupied for a few weeks Trieste and Gorizia: in addition to the thousands of people thrown alive into the karstic clefts, there were the missing people, those who died in the concentration camps or were killed during deportation.

However, one thing we know for sure: among the 10/12 thousand people who were got rid off, often in a barbarous manner, there were not only people who were somehow related to Fascism, but also government functionaries, military men, clergymen, notables, land owners and many many women, whose only fault was that of being Italian and being against the Slavicization of their lands. For almost 50 years, the frightful memory of that slaughter was guiltily repressed by the leading political parties: the subsequent Christian-Democrat controlled governments did not want to upset the relations with Jugoslavia, which following the breaking off with Moscow in 1948 had become a key pawn to oppose the Soviet hegemony in the Balkans; on the other hand, the communists, who had aided the transfer of the Giulia and Dalmatia districts to Belgrade and had actively participated in the elimination of those who opposed this transaction, had everything to gain by this historical incident falling into oblivion and have always accused whoever tried to bring up the matter of “revanchism”; MSI (the Italian right-wing party), the only party which had an interest in keeping the flame of memory burning, did not have at that time sufficient power to impose the duty of memory outside the Giulia area. This unforthcoming attitude also had an impact on the reception shown to the approximately three hundred thousand refugees from the lost provinces, the only Italians who had actually faced the consequences of the defeat: in fact, upon their arrival in their ‘homeland’ (a word which, at that time, was not even in use) they were not welcomed as first-rate Italians, but rather as troublesome and undesirable protagonists of a tragedy that everybody else would have rather forgotten. Not even when Milovan Gilas, after having broken with Tito, literally admitted “In 1945 Kardelj and I were sent to Istria with the purpose of persuading all the Italians to leave through all sorts of pressures”, the Italian political class deemed it appropriate to re-open the file. With the exception of the throb of national pride which, in autumn 1953 led the Prime Minister Mr Pella to mobilise the army to block Tito’s claims on Trieste, also during the following years the Italian governments maintained towards Jugoslavia a resigned and docile attitude, which reached its climax in 1975, with the acceptance of the Osimo treaty: a treaty which was negotiated in all secrecy to avoid any kind of debate, and ratified the final transfer to Belgrade of the B zone of the formerly Free Territory of Trieste, which had been ruled ever since 1954 (although under doubtfully legal conditions) by the Slavs; at the same time, this treaty accepted a ridiculously low compensation for the confiscation of the exiles’ assets by Tito’s regime. In view of this situation, the few free spirits among the Italian Members of Parliament, with Luigi Durand de la Penne, gold medal awarded, at the head, voted against the ratification, in the hope that the wind was actually changing and that there would soon be the opportunity to obtain less onerous conditions. As a matter of fact in 1992 an opportunity did arise to rearrange our relationship with our Eastern neighbours, upon the dissolution of Jugoslavia. Both Slovenia and Croatia – that is two republics which had a direct interest in their relationship with Italy – asked to succeed to Belgrade as partners in the Osimo treaty. It would have been perfectly justifiable for our government (Prime Minister Mr Giuliano Amato, Minister of Foreign Affairs Mr Emilio Colombo) to appeal to the “altered conditions” clause and request, as a compensation for this diplomatic acknowledgement, the review of certain parts of the treaty. On the other hand, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs simply accepted the “fait accompli”, and even rejoiced at the good intentions shown by Lubiana and Zagabria. And when, two years later, the first Berlusconi government attempted to stipulate as a basic condition for the entry of Slovenia into the European Union, the total or at least partial restitution to their lawful owners of the assets left behind, Lubiana put on a screen of the pacta sunt servanda principle: all that Italy (where in the meantime a Centre-Left government, much less sensitive to the issue, had come back to power) was able to achieve was the so-called Solana Award, that is a privileged access for exiles to the real-estate market in the areas they had escaped from, which Slovenians have had no difficulties in evading. However, the atmosphere has radically changed compared to 10 years ago, when the Il Giornale, daily newspaper, which at the time was still run by Mr Indro Montanelli (who, in his capacity as correspondent of the Corriere della Sera, had personally witnessed the great flight from Pola in 1947), was the first to break the taboo, by re-proposing to the general public the horrors of Tito’s occupation of Trieste, Gorizia and Istria, and collecting 160,000 signatures for a review of the Osimo treaty. By now, it is no longer politically unacceptable to mention the dolines. Major books have been devoted to the subject, such as La foiba grande (The Great Doline) by Carlo Sgorlon, L’esodo (The Exodus) by Arrigo Petacco, Bora by Anna Maria Mori and Nelida Milani and the very recent Foibe (Dolines) by Gianni Oliva, which have been integrated by a number of reporters’ surveys and television documentaries, which have made no bones about pointing their finger at the Slovenian and Croatian supporters and their own supporters within PCI (the Italian Communist Party). A film was devoted to the Porzus hut slaughter, during which communist and pro-Slav supporters massacred through a treacherous attack twenty partisans from the Osoppo brigade, who were fighting against the annexation of the Venezia Giulia region to Jugoslavia. The forced exodus of the 300,000 Italians who chose to abandon their country rather than submitting to a foreign and totalitarian regime is no longer deemed, also from the west wing’s point of view, the flight of a band of fascists and reactionaries, escaping their judgement, and has taken on the noble aspect it deserves. Streets and squares named after the “Dolines’ Martyrs” have made there appearance in many Italian towns (or at least in those run by the Centre-Right);, when visiting the north-east, the Head of State regularly goes to pay homage to the Basovizza doline and the Eastern boundary events have become a teaching subject in many schools. The Bosnia and Kossovo vicissitudes helped us, on the other hand, to refresh our memory, by emphasising how the physical elimination of rival ethnic groups represents a traditional custom of Balkan peoples. In harmony with this renewed attitude by public opinion, the various governments which have followed one another have also taken a firmer stand when faced with the abuses that, with their chauvinism, Slovenia and especially Croatia continue to perpetrate against their respective ethic minorities. Possibly fearing the danger that Italy’s economic and cultural superiority may represent for them in an open-frontiers situation, the two republics often tend to panic when faced with initiatives aimed at reassessing the historic truth. Zagabria, for instance, has decided to postpone the signature of a friendship and co-operation treaty as a reaction to the awarding, by President Ciampi, of a Distinguished Service gold medal to the free town of Zara in exile, aimed at acknowledging the heroic behaviour of its population during the latest phases of the war. Lubiana, on the other hand, has, through a number of vetoes, prevented a mixed committee of experts from carrying out an objective and acceptable reconstruction of all the events taking place in the ‘40s, stressing the responsibilities of Fascism and passing over the Tito regime, even though repudiated today. At a lower level, unknown people have destroyed, in various areas of Istria, memorial tablets and plaques placed in memory of the victims of the ethnic cleansing carried out 55 years ago, and an ill-concealed boycotting attitude by the local authorities often opposes the initiatives that somehow look back on the Italian presence in the region. Life is not always easy also for businessmen who wish to operate across the border, and the acquisition of certain Croatian banks by Italian parties has aroused the opposition of the nationalists. Now that Slovenia is about to enter Europe and Croatia (which is still kept under special surveillance because of its contribution to the Balkan wars) has started its march of approach, many things are due to change. Once the so-called acquis communautaire concept has been accepted, discriminations against Italians will no longer be allowed, it will become more difficult to shut up like a clam with respect to still open problems and certain forms of co-operation will no longer be opposable. The relationship between Italy and the two republics will in time have to go through the same positive evolution that, against the same European background, was experienced by the relationship between France and Germany. However, in the latter country, a new fact has materialised over the last few months, which may also positively affect the Giulia-Dalmatia claiming: the rediscovery of the tragedy of the 15 million Germans who, following World War II, were driven out of Eastern Prussia, Pomerania, Slesia and the Sudetes. Exactly like the refugees from our Eastern regions, they lost everything and had to make a new life for themselves under extremely difficult conditions on this side of the Oder-Neisse frontier. For two generations, collective guilty conscience has led to deem this forced exodus as an inevitable, if not rightful, punishment for the Nazi crimes. Today things have changed: the victims of the great flight of the German population towards the West have even found a bard in a left-wing writer, Guenther Grass, who with his book Im Krebsgang (which can be roughly translated as: Crab-Wise) has paved the way for a torrent of memories (and claims), which on the eve of the European Union expansion to include the countries which had incorporated the lost lands, is having a certain impact also at a political level. After having opposed the earlier Italian initiatives concerning Slovenia and Croatia, in fear of reviving unpleasant memories of the past, it is now the Germans themselves who raise their voice, especially with respect to the Czech Republic, despite having signed with it a “reconciliation treaty” only three years ago. The matter under dispute is represented by the 1945 Benes Decrees, which prescribed mass deportation of three million Germans from the Sudetes and the confiscation of their belongings. When in January the Czech Prime Minister defined such decrees as “an essential element for the Denazification of the country”, the Conservative Chancellery candidate Stoiber replied that they represented “a wound for Europe which will have to be healed when the Union expands Eastwards” and the Austrian nationalist Haider even requested to subject the entry of Prague into Europe to the cancellation of such decrees. No serious political initiative has so far been taken towards Warsaw, but the exiles’ organisations are already on the war-path and the Polish live in the constant worry that a progressive “Regermanisation” of Slesia and Pomerania may take place through the power of the Euro: in view of this, they are asking the EU for a long transition period before the Germans are allowed to freely purchase (or rather repurchase) real estate or agricultural properties. The problem also involves the human rights which will be solemnly consecrated through the European Constitution which is being drafted in Brussels. The question whereto a possibly homogenous response will have to be found is the following: which are the rights of the peoples who, following the defeat of their country and the loss of the provinces in which they used to live, have been forced to go into exile? Is it admissible that they have been forced to personally face the consequences for other peoples’ faults and that they are not even able to obtain justice within a continent such as Europe now heading for unity? If we are to be all brothers within a continent without frontiers, it is obvious that, without making any changes in the territorial set-up, something will have to be done in favour of the exiles and of their descendants. Livio Caputo Translated by interpres sas