Quest for Balance in Joining European Union

http://www.nytimes.com/2013/08/03/world/europe/03iht-letter03.html

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KORCULA, Croatia — From where he sits on this island off the Dalmatian coast, Toni Lozica has a clear view of the significance of July 1, 2013 — the day Croatia became the 28th country to join the European Union.

“We cannot stand alone,” said the 52-year-old native Korculan who, after 20 years of living and working in Amsterdam, came home to take charge of an elite hotel in the island’s old town, and to assume his role as scion of large and prominent local family.

His point of reference is not just the political and economic realities of 21st century Europe, or even Croatia’s geographical position on the edge of the Balkans, in a region still scarred by the Continent’s most recent wars.

In his view, the European Union — for all its faults — has stepped into a historical role once played, for better or for worse, by the Austro-Hungarian Empire and later, the Yugoslav Federation, before they fell apart under the strain of war, nationalist politics and hatred.

“We have to learn from these experiences, and learn not to make the same mistakes,” he said. “The Austro-Hungarian empire and Yugoslavia were two entities that existed in this same area, and now we are starting the same thing.”

“The European Union is an intellectual idea,” he added. At its most basic, it was designed to prevent war — “a beautiful thing, of course.” But its ambition is also to combine and coordinate the political and economic forces of its members states, large and small, without sacrificing national cultural identities.

“Europe should be together and stronger and have long-term strategy to become a federation,” he said. “Europe will have to be able to defend itself.”

Of course, Croatians are joining the European Union at a low point, when Euro-skepticism is riding high across the Continent. Only 43.5 percent of registered Croatians cast ballots in the January 2012 referendum on joining the European Union, which passed with 66 percent of the vote.

To a large extent, Croatia, with its population of almost five million, was already integrated into the European Union, even before its formal entry. “We are already dependent on economically stronger nations,” Mr. Lozica said. “Most of our banks are owned by foreign banks, and most of the economy is owned by foreign investors.”

Korcula, with a year-round population of 16,000, has come to live off tourism; since its heyday in Communist times, employment at the local shipyard has shrunk more than 75 percent. Most of the tourists are foreign, many drawn by the well-honed legend that Marco Polo was born on the island.

Like other islands off the Dalmatian coast, Korcula has a history of seeing foreign occupiers come and go. The town’s 15th-century cathedral stands as testimony to the Venetians’ influence. It has lived under Hungarian, French, British, Austrian, Italian and Yugoslav rule, while relishing a certain limited autonomy.

And yet despite the exposure to foreigners (or maybe because of it), the E.U. referendum lost in Mr. Lozica’s home village of Lumbarda, population 1,200, which lies between the Adriatic Sea and the vineyards that produce “grk,” an unusual white wine made there and nowhere else. The anti-E.U. argument came from the local Roman Catholic priest, Mr. Lozica said.

“The priest said they shouldn’t vote for the E.U., and they didn’t,” he said. “He warned we would lose our soul, our heart and our independence.”

It’s an argument that Mr. Lozica finds “unreal.” But it plays to a nationalism that remains virulent in Croatia, 22 years after it declared independence from Yugoslavia. “Croatia is poisoned by nationalism,” he said. “It will take time to drain that poison.”

The problem is not just an unquenched rivalry with neighboring Serbs, but also divisions among Croats, a legacy that dates from World War II when towns and villages — even families — were split between the Communist Partisans, and the nationalist Ustashis.

“The biggest frustration is the split between the descendants of the Partisans and the descendants of the Ustashi, which is still very strong,” Mr. Lozica said. “In this region, people can put history aside, but they can never forget. They can even forgive but it will come up at any moment, when it is necessary.”

Mr. Lozica comes from a Partisan family; his father and seven uncles held powerful positions on the island during the Communist period. This heritage earned him the right to participate in the moreska, a ritual sword dance that is a unique Korcula tradition — and a tourist attraction. A big man with long hair, Mr. Lozica was naturally cast as one of the two kings in the pantomime battle, acted out with real swords.

As elsewhere in Europe, identity in Korcula goes deeper than nationality or even ethnicity, and draws as much strength and sustenance from places, as well as ideas. For all his travel, and his cosmopolitan views, Mr. Lozica is proud of how rooted he is in Korcula.

He boasts of speaking the Korculan dialect, heavily laden with Italian, which people of a younger generation have never learned. “I am very, very local in my thinking and doing,” he said.

Yet Mr. Lozica, with his two passports, also swears by his European identity, just as his father and uncles were proud of their Yugoslav nationality.

“Everybody has to be totally culturally independent,” he said, “but economically, we have to be able to work together and move around freely. In the end, most people won’t leave home if they don’t need to.”