Marko Attila Hoare. Serbia: A Modern History

Marko Attila Hoare’s latest book on the history of Serbia represents a substantial synthesis, covering the period from 1804 to 1941. The work is primarily a political history, with only occasional brief forays into the economic or social structures underlying the political developments. While the title indicates a focus on the political and territorial context of Serbia, the book also encompasses interwar Yugoslavia, thus introducing a degree of conceptual inconsistency. Hoare, however, considers Yugoslavia essentially an extension of Serbia, with Serbian political elites dominating the new state. In light of his emphasis on political history, the author justifies this assertive claim as both warranted and appropriate.The book draws on the most reputable scholarly works, particularly from Serbian historians. Hoare states that his goal was simply “to synthesize as much as possible of their findings so as to transmit them to the English-language reader, while providing a foreign historian’s alternative perspective” (p. 2). However, readers of the book may find this claim unduly modest. While Hoare indeed relies on the data mainly provided by Serbian historians, his interpretive framework and conceptualizations represent a significant departure from the main currents of Serbian historiography.Hoare is well known for his erudition and comprehensive synthetic works, and he deserves commendation for this book, which contributes to a more nuanced and detailed understanding of the internal structures and developments within Serbian political elites over an extended period. This applies to his exhaustive and meticulous analyses of individual historical events and personalities, as well as his examination of long-term processes. As previously mentioned, the author’s primary objective was to provide an English-speaking audience with a valuable guide to key developments in modern Serbian history. Given the originality of Hoare’s interpretation and the bold, incisive conclusions presented in the book, translating it into Serbian would also be beneficial for stimulating scholarly debate within Serbian historiography.While Hoare does not explicitly state his ideological or methodological preferences, it is evident that he adopts a critical stance toward the ethno-nationalist conceptions of the Serbian Grand Narrative. Whereas mainstream historiography in Serbia emphasizes the perceived legacy of constitutionalism (notably the constitutions of 1836, 1889, 1903, and 1921), the early introduction of universal suffrage, and the so-called golden era of democracy (1903–1912), Hoare highlights the presence of anti-pluralism and populism within the agenda of the most influential radical party, as well as authoritarian tendencies on the part of the royal court and executive power. While mainstream accounts stress the exceptional heritage of Serbian peasant egalitarianism, Hoare draws attention to nineteenth-century segregationist policies toward Jews and, later, toward minorities in the expanded Serbian and Yugoslav states. Although he pays respect to the glorious role played by Dimitrije Tucović and Serbian social democracy during the Balkan Wars and World War I, he also identifies anti-modernist and populist elements in the formative period of the socialist movement in Serbia.In terms of Serbian political history, Hoare presents a generalized scheme that developed and matured by the 1890s. In this scheme, the main protagonists are 1) the synthetic elite formed by the (authoritarian) court, joined by factions of the Radical Party; 2) the synthetic counter-elite represented by the radical party’s left, liberal, and republican renegades (Independent Radical Party, later Democratic and Republican Party); and 3) informal army officers’ associations (Black Hand, White Hand, and the putschist group of 1941). According to him, the interplay of these main factors provided much of the inner dynamics within Serbian political structures in the period between the 1890s and 1941. The role of the military was either to consolidate executive power, as in the case of King Milan’s army corps or King Aleksandar I Karađorđević’s White Hand, or to overthrow it, as seen in the coups of 1903 and 1941, in composite alliance with the aforementioned counter-elite.A reassessment of traditional views on the past is neither new in Serbian public discourse nor in its historiography. Hoare’s assertive claims and definitive conclusions will undoubtedly be questioned, but they are unlikely to hinder the reception of his book in Serbia. However, certain aspects of Hoare’s conclusions will certainly be seen as controversial, or even provocative, by both the general public and the academic community. In addition to his characterization of interwar Yugoslavia as little more than an expanded Serbia, this particularly pertains to Hoare’s interpretation of the fatal consequences of two critical moments in Serbian/Yugoslav history: “As the 1903 putsch unleashed forces that dragged Serbia into World War I, so the 1941 putsch hurled Serbia into World War II, ending the life of the first Yugoslavia and, by extension, the first modern Serbia” (p. 5).This claim, reiterated in the book’s conclusion, may suggest certain (perhaps unintended) implications, particularly regarding the responsibility of Serbian political elites and military conspirators for both the outbreak of World War I and Nazi Germany’s invasion of Yugoslavia. If this is an intentional insinuation, it could be dismissed as reductionist and tendentious, akin to blaming the UK and France’s declaration of war on Nazi Germany for the outbreak of World War II. However, it is also possible that Hoare’s conclusion refers to internal dynamics within the Serbian political and military elites, without direct reference to broader foreign policy outcomes. In any case, it is unfortunate that both the academic and general public in Serbia are likely to focus primarily on these concluding remarks, potentially overlooking the significant scholarly contributions that the book otherwise provides.