Croatia: Dubrovnik, Behind the Tourism
[excerpted from, Europe, South & East: Stories across Cultures ©2023]
Dalmatia.
And that strange bit to the north that disconnects Dubrovnik and surrounds from the rest of Croatia.
Croatia, once a kingdom, then part of the Austro-Hungarian empire precisely to avoid Ottoman encroachment (while Bosnia, at certain times part of Croatia, was Ottoman — and thus, Muslim — instead), part of Yugoslavia thereafter (thus, in its post-WW2 iteration: communist), has had an interesting millennium or so.
So — what’s the story? I went to Dubrovnik, from that capital of cool, Zagreb, in August 2018 to find out more. [Note to all: never, ever, go to Dubrovnik in August. I’ve never been in a more crowded circumstance in my life. Even so — breathtakingly beautiful.]
That tiny 20km (12.4mi) corridor to the north of Dubrovnik is in fact Bosnian coastline (smallest such in the world apart from Monaco), splitting Croatia’s territory in two — and is a concession to Bosnia following the breakup of Yugoslavia, in particular due to an agreement centuries ago between Dubrovnik and the Ottoman empire that gave up this tract of land.
Dubrovnik, meanwhile, though most often through its history a part of Croatia, was under the Venetians (that glorious fortress was built to keep them out — though, 2 centuries later, they got in anyway), the French empire under Napoleon, and part of larger Dalmatia as a distinct kingdom under the Austro-Hungarian empire (alongside the Kingdom of Croatia), then reabsorbed by Croatia in 1945 as part of (communist) Yugoslavia to 1991. Dubrovnik, too, has rather a checkered past — including a near-complete destruction in 1667 by earthquake.
The Dalmatia culture as well differs from that of Croatia as a whole. The dialect is distinct, and the lifestyle more Mediterranean — relaxed, not particularly time-conscious, open and friendly including conversation with friends as a major pastime, the midday meal followed by a nap (similar to siesta), and a generally easygoing way of life.
Naturally, Dubrovnik has always been oriented to the sea, and was a major seafaring culture from 14th to 19th centuries. The walled portion of the city holds a stunning maritime museum, as well as one of the most beautifully displayed ethnographic museums I’ve seen, in a former palace. Clearly, the city’s value of aesthetics is high.
The Museum of Modern Art, just a few steps outside of the walled city to its south, is also quite lovely, and surely informative, not shying away from difficult themes. During my stay there was a photo exhibit of the 1991–92 war between Croatia and Serbia, for Croatia’s independence (in the breakup of Yugoslavia), in which this city was severely damaged. The date of my museum visit, 05 August, is a related national holiday: Victory & Thanksgiving Day.
There is a tiny synagogue, at the top of a nearly hidden staircase and no longer in use, now a small museum. “Only 45 Jews in Dubrovnik today,” the man there told me, “eighty percent of them, old women.” The darker side of Croatia, the likes of which is appearing (and I’ve previously addressed) in much of Central Europe, includes a revisionist history of its role in the Holocaust; the 2016 national election prior to my visit saw a return of ultra-conservative nationalists to the government, in a related European trend.
Freedom House, an international human rights organization ranking Croatia currently at 84/100 [political rights 35/40; civil rights 49/60], has noted that in this predominantly Catholic nation, the church has begun associating with conservative and even far-right civil society groups, an observation echoed in French media earlier this year.
Racism and hate crimes have been on the rise for several years, prompting one news outlet to refer to Croatia in 2020 as a “crucible for hyper-nationalism” and a 2023 editorial in another to say that the country “must confront its fascist past”. While the 2020 election saw a return to more moderate governance, the world still watches as its ultra-nationalists remain active.
While this is not Dubrovnik-specific, surely the trend overall, considering this country’s complex history, is somewhat worrying.
Europe, South & East: Stories across Cultures, by Anne Hilty, ©2023
