---------------------------

 The Croats channeled their resentment over the imposition of the language's eastern variant into the unfortunate creation of the Independent State of Croatia, a Nazi puppet state that lasted from 1941 to 1945. Croatian language policy went through radical changes during those four years. One major change was the replacement of the common Serbo-Croatian phonetic alphabet (set down by the 19th-century Serbian language reformer Vuk Karadzic under the principle: "Write as you speak; speak as you write") by an etymological one, in which the stem of a word is retained through all its forms. In addition, the Government Office for Propaganda issued a list of forbidden words. The policy was to cleanse the "Croatian language" of "Serbian words," creating new words to replace them.(1) During the whole history of standard Serbo-Croatian, that was the only episode of enforced language planning.

     Unsurprisingly, history has repeated itself. In August 1995, four years after Croatia proclaimed its independence, Vice Vukojevic, a parliamentary deputy from the ruling Croatian Democratic Community, proposed two draft bills on language. In the first, Vukojevic proposed that the phonetic alphabet be replaced by an etymological one and that 30,000 of the existing 60,000 to 80,000 words be purged from the Croatian language as non-Croatian.(2) If passed, the bill would have turned the Croats into an illiterate people who would have to learn their new language virtually from scratch. The other draft bill was aimed at establishing a Government Office for Croatian Language, which would have a police function. Anyone found breaking the new language rules would be fined or even imprisoned, depending on how serious the violation was. Both draft bills were rejected by the parliament, while the independent media and some of the top Croatian linguists regarded the proposals as outrageous.

     Even so, an ETYMOLOGICAL ORTHOGRAPHY textbook from 1942 is now back in print and dominates bookshop windows in Zagreb. Prominent linguists are given special columns in the state-run papers to teach the public which words are considered Croatian and should be used and which words should be avoided as non-Croatian.(3) That is not just an academic exercise--in Zagreb today, anyone using words regarded as Serbian risks not getting a loaf of bread in a shop or a train ticket at the station. Croats who have moved to Croatia from Serbia or Bosnia have to pass a proficiency exam in Croatian language and culture to obtain Croatian citizenship. Many of them fail, as it is nearly impossible to learn the new Croatian words as quickly as they are invented. In addition, university diplomas from other centers of the former Yugoslavia, such as Belgrade or Sarajevo, are not recognized in Croatia. As yet another symbol of Croatian language identity, only the Latin script is in official use.

     By the same token, Cyrillic is the only script officially used in Serbia and Montenegro, although the Latin alphabet can be found on stamps, signs, coins, and bank notes and in certain publications. While the Latin script had been widespread on the territory of what is now the Federal Republic of Yugoslavia (especially in the multiethnic province of Vojvodina), with the rise of Serbian nationalism the Cyrillic script became one of the most important symbols of Serbian national identity. That the Croatian and Serbian strains of nationalism are identified with their respective scripts is ironic, since the two scripts have always had their roots only in different religions, not in separate nations.

     Still, the Serbian language policy cannot be compared with the radical, protective Croatian language planning. The fact that no spectacular changes in language have taken place in Serbia and Montenegro speaks for itself. Obviously, the Serbs were never culturally endangered in the territory of so-called Serbia proper, and no protective mechanisms were needed. But they were very vocal about language in the rest of former Yugoslavia, particularly in Croatia and Bosnia-Herzegovina, the republics that had significant Serbian populations. As far back as 1986, Pavle Ivic, the most respected Serbian linguist, outlined a program stipulating that all Serbs, wherever they live, should be guided by the imperative of Serbian cultural unification.(4) In addition, he said that Serbs must establish Serbian as the language of Serbs in Croatia and introduce it into the education system, administration, and culture. The patronizing attitude of the Serbian intellectual elite reached its culmination during the recent Croatian and Bosnian wars, when the attempt to spread "Serbian culture" to all areas inhabited by Serbs resulted in the tragic extermination of people of all nationalities. After five years of bitter conflict, it is obvious that the idea of "Serbian unification" has collapsed, with tragic consequences for both the Croatian and the Bosnian Serbs. Croatian Serbs, gambling on getting it all, eventually ended up losing it all.

     DIVIDED BOSNIA-HERZEGOVINA

     Linguistically, as in virtually every sphere of life, Bosnia-Herzegovina today is divided. Yet the fragmentation of the language is only symbolic. Serbo-Croatian was a single, standard language with two major variants (the western or Croatian and eastern or Serbian variants) and two varieties (that spoken in Bosnia-Herzegovina and that in Montenegro). The variants contain many words exclusive to themselves, while the varieties blend elements of both variants. Serbo-Croatian would probably have split into Croatian and Serbian much earlier if it weren't for the multiethnic situation in Bosnia-Herzegovina. The thesis of one nation, one language did not work in Bosnia, where members of all nations spoke the same Bosnian language variety. Nobody could distinguish a Bosnian Serb from a Bosnian Muslim from a Bosnian Croat by their speech alone. The language spoken by Bosnian Serbs was much closer to that of Bosnian Muslims and Bosnian Croats than to that of the Serbs from Serbia or Croatia. In the same way, Bosnian Croats were linguistically closer to their Muslim and Serbian neighbors than to Croats in Croatia. Nevertheless, along with the forcible creation of artificial ethnic boundaries, nationalists on all sides began to create language boundaries, too.

     The most radical turn in language policy was undertaken by the Bosnian Serbs. Spurred by a strong desire to show their distinctness from their Muslim and Croatian neighbors, they abandoned the way they had spoken for centuries and adopted instead the Serbian form of the language, based on the Belgrade dialect. The move has had tragicomic results. On government-run television, members of the political elite now sound semiliterate as they struggle with an unfamiliar tongue. The Bosnian Serb parliament recently adopted legislation stipulating that only the eastern variant and the Cyrillic script be used officially.(5) The problem is that hardly any Bosnian Serb teachers are qualified to teach Belgrade speech. Yet some highly nationalistic teachers in Banja Luka have reportedly even insisted that students write their English and German lessons in the Cyrillic alphabet.

     Another result of the switch to the Belgrade dialect is the abandonment of a rich cultural heritage. The dialect spoken by most Bosnian Serbs had become the standard of Serbo-Croatian. All Bosnian Serb folk literature and epic poetry, in which the people take great national pride, is in that dialect. Yet they are now replacing it with the Belgrade dialect in an attempt to demonstrate that their national identity stems from their language identity. They feel their native dialect to be a part of their territorial (Bosnian) identity, and they would rather choose a dialect that belongs exclusively to Serbs.

     Linguistic purity is also highly valued by Bosnian Serbs. They are trying to cleanse their language of all Turkish and "Croatian" words--but without the words borrowed from Turkish, they would not be able to name such basics as socks, sugar, tobacco, cotton, soap, copper, kidneys, hammer, steel, boots, pocket, pattern, box, lemon, monkey, slippers, brandy, craft, or even their favorite weapon: the cannon.

     For their part, the Croats of Bosnia-Herzegovina now claim to speak "Croatian." However, while urban Bosnian Croats speak the same dialect as urban Bosnian Muslims and Serbs, Herzegovinian Croats, who have been under the exclusive influence of the Croatian media for the last four years, reading only Croatian papers and using only Croatian textbooks in schools, have become linguistically "Croatized." Still, Mostar Croats and Mostar Muslims, who have lived on separate riverbanks for the past four years, will be recognized by their accent primarily as Mostarians and not as Croats or Muslims.

     A language bill passed in 1993 gave a new official name to the language spoken in Bosnia-Herzegovina: "Bosnian, Serbian, Croatian."(6) The Latin and Cyrillic scripts were proclaimed equal. The authors of the language policy in the mostly Muslim government-held part of Bosnia tried in that way to grant each nation the right to call the language by its national name. But a riddle remains: do these three names refer to one language or to three different languages? If Bosnia-Herzegovina were to be a unified country, the three-names invention would probably be praised as an act of tolerance and an acknowledgment of the right of each nation to call its language by its national name. Bearing in mind, however, that Bosnian Serbs and Croats have already firmly established their respective national language policies, it is more likely that the Bosnian, Serbian, and Croatian languages will be regarded as the three different languages of Bosnia-Herzegovina.

     The Bosnian Muslims always seemed to be the most tolerant of the former Yugoslav nations with regard to the language issue. But during the 1991 census, most of them volunteered "Bosnian" as the name of their language. They were advised to do so by the Muslim Party of Democratic Action because it was clear that a national separation of former Yugoslavia was on its way. "Bosnian" seemed the optimal solution when taking into account the country's multiethnic composition. It was a name that did not refer to any nation but to the territory that has been shared by all of them.

     Unfortunately, although Bosnian could have easily become the common name for the language shared by all Bosnian peoples, particularly as that name for the language had a long history of use in preceding centuries, Muslim linguists began at the beginning of the war to pursue the thesis that Bosnian was the language of Bosnian Muslims exclusively.(7) Consequently, after Muslim "linguist-missionaries" intervened in the language with the final goal to make it a "real, ancient Bosnian language," the hope that this name could be accepted by all was lost. Interventions included putting back the voiced h wherever it was suspected one might have existed in the distant past, insisting on the extensive use of borrowed Turkish words along with the Turkish greeting instead of the common Slavic greeting, and changing some orthographic rules. The new Muslim language nationalism reinforced the already existing Croatian nationalism, so today Muslim and Croatian teachers of the "native" language claim they speak two different languages. Yet they still teach one grammar.

     Language identity became a highly emotional issue for the people in the successor states of former Yugoslavia. It has become highly politicized, too. Nobody asks linguists for their opinion anymore. Politicians and linguists who truly believe in their missionary zeal--an enforcement of separate national languages--are the loudest voices to be heard.

     From the point of view of internal language history, which refers to language structure, the language spoken in Serbia-Montenegro, Croatia, and Bosnia-Herzegovina is a single language, because differences among its spoken varieties in those countries make up no more than 3 percent to 7 percent of total lexicon. Native speakers do not need interpreters to understand each other. However, from the point of view of external language history, which refers to the broader context that influences language development, such as sociopolitical and cultural determinants, Serbian, Croatian, and Bosnian can be regarded as separate languages if the people who speak them so decide.--Daria Sito Sucic

     NOTES

     1. Pavle Ivic, SRPSKI NAROD I NJEGOV JEZIK [The Serbian People and Their Language] (Belgrade: Srpska knjizevna zadruga, 1986). p. 206.

     2. NOVI LIST, vol. 49, no. 141, 26 May 1995.

     3. See D. Brozovic, "Vjesnikov jezicni savjetnik" [Vjesnik's Language Adviser], VJESNIK, nos. 339, 341, and 343, March 1994.

     4. Ivic, SRPSKI NAROD..., p. 221.

     5. SVIJET, no. 34, 19 September 1996, p. 21.

     6. VECERNJE NOVINE, 2 November 1994.

     7. S. Halilovic, BOSANSKI JEZIK [The Bosnian Language] (Sarajevo: Biblioteka Kljucanin, 1991); A. Isakovic, RJECNIK KARAKTERISTICNE LEKSIKE BOSANSKOG JEZIKA [A Dictionary of Characteristic Words of the Bosnian Language] (Sarajevo: Svjetlost, 1991).

     * * *

     MAKING SLOVAKIA MORE 'SLOVAK'

     The Current Government Has Used Language As an Instrument to Promote National Identity in Slovakia. In the Process, However, It Has Alienated Not Only the Hungarian Minority but Also Many Slovaks

     Since the Czech-Slovak split in January 1993, Slovakia's successive governments have faced the problems of building a state and strengthening the national identity of a populace that for the most part did not favor independence. The current nationalist-populist coalition government, which came to power after the fall 1994 parliamentary elections, has taken numerous steps to make the state more "Slovak." Instead of uniting the populace in a feeling of national identity, however, the government has alienated certain key groups of people, many of whom are no longer sure what it means to be Slovak.

     Language has been a key instrument used by the government to promote Slovak national identity. A controversial state-language law, approved on 15 November 1995, begins: "The Slovak language is the most important characteristic of the Slovak nation, the most valuable part of its cultural heritage, an expression of Slovak sovereignty, and the general means of communication of its citizens, guaranteeing them freedom and equality in dignity and rights on Slovak territory." Based on that premise, the law restricts the use of other languages in various spheres of daily life and requires the use of Slovak in official contacts.(1) That is in contradiction to Article 34 of the Slovak constitution, which gives minorities the right to use their own languages in official contacts.

     Five years earlier, many Slovaks would have been pleased with such a law. When Slovakia's first post-communist language law was approved in October 1990, many Slovaks complained that it went too far in granting rights for minorities. A compromise between proposals put forward by ethnic Hungarian politicians and by the nationalist cultural organization Matica slovenska, the 1990 law allowed for the use of a minority language in official dealings in communities with an ethnic minority of at least 20 percent. That provision was especially controversial: Slovaks had been oppressed by Hungarians in the past, and many thought that preventing ethnic Hungarians from using their language in public in Slovakia would provide a sort of historical justice. Matica slovenska and the Slovak National Party (SNS) were particularly vocal in their opposition to the approved version of the law, and extreme emotional outbursts erupted from the population as years of pent-up anti-Hungarian sentiment was released.(2)

     By the time the 1995 legislation was approved, however, the population's mood had changed, and the government's efforts to control the use of language was controversial not only with ethnic Hungarians--Slovakia's largest minority, making up 11 percent of the population--but also with many Slovaks. Much of the criticism of the law centered on the fact that various versions and interpretations appeared in the domestic and international media, giving a confusing picture of how things might look after the legislation's approval. Culture Ministry officials went as far as to say that Czech-language films would have to be dubbed and that well-known Slovak opera singer Peter Dvorsky could be criminally prosecuted for singing an aria in Italian.

     Although strong nationalist sentiment certainly continues to exist among some groups of Slovaks, a high percentage of Slovaks are losing interest in politics, while others feel alienated by the government's "pro-Slovak" policies and frequent finger pointing at "anti-Slovak"--or, rather, anti-government--activities. The Slovaks' declining willingness to fight for nationalist ideals was demonstrated by Matica's rather ineffective demonstration in front of the parliament on the day of the language-law vote. Although Matica invited all "the right Slovaks" to the rally to display their love for their mother tongue, only about 300 citizens--bused in from all over Slovakia--attended, while more than 10,000 Slovaks have appeared at recent demonstrations to protest government culture policies.

     Still, the threat of political repercussions for failing to promote Slovak "interests" remains strong. Prime Minister Vladimir Meciar has frequently called the opposition Christian Democratic Movement (KDH) "anti-Slovak" because the party did not support the 1992 declaration of sovereignty or the constitution. Meciar's rhetoric during the fall 1994 election campaign was often aimed at what he considered "anti-Slovak" elements. He frequently attacked the left-right coalition that came to office after the collapse of his previous government in March of that year for cooperating with ethnic Hungarian parties. When the language bill came before the parliament, coalition representatives again played the nationalist card, calling to mind that the territory that is now Slovakia was ruled by Hungary for 1,000 years. Zora Lazarova, who represents Meciar's Movement for a Democratic Slovakia (HZDS), said that "anyone who votes against that bill is against the fulfillment of the Slovaks' desires and deserves public contempt." Probably the most influential factor in voting was an HZDS proposal that each deputy state his opinion out loud after his name was called, with the entire proceeding broadcast on Slovak Television (STV).

     The opposition parties were clearly afraid of being labeled "anti-Slovak" if they did not support the bill, and several deputies walked out before the vote in an apparent effort to avoid making a decision. In the end, most deputies from the opposition Democratic Union (DU)--formally a "liberal" party--and the former communists' Party of the Democratic Left (SDL) felt obliged to vote in favor of the language bill, despite the fact that many of the opposition's amendment proposals were rejected during parliamentary discussion.

     When the legislation went to President Michal Kovac for approval, some hoped that he would veto it. But even he was afraid of being seen as the president only of Slovakia's Hungarians, as ethnic Hungarian deputies were alone in actually voting against the bill. After intense discussion with his staff and outside experts, Kovac decided to sign the bill, provided that the ruling coalition meet its promise--made by both the parliament chairman, Ivan Gasparovic, and Meciar--to put forward a bill on minority languages in the near future. If the government did not draft such a bill, Kovac promised that he would send the language law to the Constitutional Court. The KDH--which had abstained from the vote--and the Hungarian coalition beat the president to it, sending the law to the Constitutional Court in early February.

     LANGUAGE LAW IN PRACTICE

     Shortly after the language law took effect, observers noted that its repercussions were marginal.(3) Today, it remains unclear how the law will be used in practice; this year only warnings are being issued, and many people are not taking the law seriously. Beginning on 1 January, though, stiff penalties will be levied for breaking the law--as high as 500,000 crowns ($15,974). By that time, opponents of the law hope that the Constitutional Court will have ruled on the legislation's legality.

     One of the law's provisions still not enforced requires that only Slovak be used in official contexts. Shortly after the law was passed, a number of local mayors in southern Slovakia issued directives allowing for the use of the Hungarian language in official contexts. Milan Ferko--the director of the language department at the Culture Ministry and author of an early, more restrictive version of the language law--criticized the mayors, saying that such behavior was an "illegal" tactic and an effort to evade the state language law.(4) The Hungarian coalition responded to Ferko's criticism by pointing out that although the new language law cancels the previous law on the official language, it also fails to regulate the use of minority languages.(5) Janos Fothy, deputy mayor of the predominantly Hungarian town of Samorin, said that in allowing for the use of Hungarian language, he was simply following Article 34 of the constitution, which gives minorities the right to use their language in official contacts.(6) Months later, Hungarian Christian Democratic Movement (MKDH) Chairman Bela Bugar said that the government currently does not dare to interfere in that matter.(7)

     Other controversial provisions have taken effect, including the banning of bilingual documentation in schools. All cultural programs, including Hungarian language theater presentations, must first be introduced in the state language.

     MKDH representative Pal Csaky explained that the authorities are apparently afraid of taking a tougher course of action in implementing the language law because that would result in increased pressure to approve a law on minority languages.(8) By early November, the government had yet to draft its version of that legislation, despite frequent calls to do so from representatives of such organizations as the European Union and the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe. In August, a Culture Ministry commission proposed that the cabinet not adopt a special law on the use of minority languages, arguing that the issue was already covered by 35 valid laws, including the constitution. The ministry favored introduction of the Council of Europe's European Charter for Regional or Minority Languages; however, ethnic Hungarian representatives expressed disagreement with that proposal. Although the Hungarian coalition has drafted its own bill on minority languages--allowing for the use of minority languages in official contacts where the minority group makes up at least 10 percent of the population--the bill has been supported neither by the coalition nor by opposition deputies, since it is seen as going too far. It remains to be seen what the coalition's version will look like, although it is presumed that the provisions of the 1990 law will be reinstated, giving Hungarians the right to use their mother tongue in official contacts in places where they represent at least 20 percent of the population.(9)

     Meanwhile, Slovak sociologist Vladimir Krivy commented on the futility of attempts to get the Hungarian minority to use Slovak. The latest figures from the Statistical Office's Institute for Public Opinion Research demonstrate that in southern Slovakia, both ethnic Hungarians and Slovaks are now using Hungarian more often than before. "This is a great lesson for the legislators," Krivy said. "If they are lacking tolerance, they can at least inform themselves of the counterproductiveness of their restrictive laws."(10)

     LANGUAGE POLICE

     Although fines cannot be issued until 1997, four "language consultants" worked for several months beginning in February to supervise the observance of the language law. Spread throughout the country, the inspectors were supposed to control "language purity" in their surroundings by monitoring the local press and radio and television broadcasting, advertisements, billboards, and shop signs. As fines were not yet in effect, the inspectors were supposed to point to possible offenses and ask violators to redress them voluntarily. Ferko said that as a control body overseeing the language law's implementation, the Culture Ministry and its inspectors should have access to all documents and all meetings, whenever it wishes. The only exceptions are secret negotiations and documents.(11)

     The ministry plans to have a network of inspectors in place early next year. Ferko said that in certain "pure" regions, there will be no need for language inspectors, but occasional reviews will take place to examine the situation from the standpoint of "language quality." He promised that more inspectors will be placed in bigger towns as well as in ethnically mixed areas "in order to give priority to the state language and to protect its purity to the necessary extent."(12)

     An enthusiastic pensioner who had been chosen as one of the first language consultants told a journalist that "initially we will go after only the language, but from that many other things will follow. Language has to unite, implant national awareness, and develop a bond to the state."(13) The inspector chosen to cover the southern Slovak region--where most of the country's ethnic Hungarians live--said that although people were generally informed about the law and that salespeople addressed shoppers in the Slovak language first, some of the language law's provisions were not being followed. He cited, for example, a store that had the word "Butique" on its sign when it should have been "Butik," and he observed that the Hungarian cultural organization Csemadok was using signs written only in Hungarian to invite people to its programs. Churches, he said, would be investigated because, in some of them, inscriptions are written only in Hungarian. He said he had also heard that the Hungarian national anthem was occasionally sung in churches.(14)

     PROTECTING THE SLOVAK LANGUAGE

     While some Slovaks see the language law as intolerant toward the Hungarian minority others are more concerned with the restrictions on the Slovak language itself. The Culture Ministry uses several books as a basis for correct Slovak. One of those--the BIG DICTIONARY OF THE SLOVAK LANGUAGE--was "hopelessly sold-out and outdated" in early 1996.(15) The law's restriction on the development of the language were criticized by some language experts as unnatural.(16) One analyst said that "the notion that only what is written in the official dictionary is allowed and that is it is necessary and correct to prescribe to people how they should speak...is in itself a component of totalitarian thinking."(17) Meanwhile, observers have noted that even most deputies in the Slovak parliament do not speak proper Slovak. When the law first came into effect, journalists amused themselves at HZDS meetings by counting expressions that contradicted the literary norm established by the party's own law. Parliament Chairman Gasparovic was singled out for his incorrect Slovak.(18)

     To increase the use of Slovak in cultural life will be difficult. Slovakia's film industry is tiny, producing only about one feature film per year. Financing for the country's publishing industry is also scarce. Most foreign films are dubbed or subtitled in Czech rather than in Slovak, and many foreign-language books are published only in Czech. Slovak films are also difficult to find in video shops.

     Instead of attempting to gradually phase out the use of Czech through significant financing to help develop domestic culture, the government attempted to restrict the use of other languages through the language law and an accompanying audiovisual law. The original version of the audiovisual law--approved by the government in October--caused outrage among film and video distributors, since it stated that 40 percent of foreign production, including Czech films, would have to be dubbed, while the rest would have to be subtitled in Slovak. Distributors argued that it does not make financial sense to dub or subtitle foreign films in the Slovak language when they are already available in Czech; to do so for an audience of only 5 million under economic strain would simply mean a much smaller range of choices. A milder version of the audiovisual law was approved by the parliament on 14 December.

     The audiovisual and language laws allow for the broadcast of programs and films in other languages as long as they are "intelligible from the standpoint of the state language." At the demand of film distributors, the Culture Ministry issued a statement in February confirming that the Czech language fulfills the requirement of being basically intelligible.(19) Only audiovisual works for children up to 12 years of age must be dubbed into the state language, and some businessmen have managed to get around that requirement. One Slovak distributor of Czech-dubbed Disney cartoons simply labeled the videos with a sticker stating, "Because this audiovisual work is not dubbed in Slovak, it is not...aimed at children up to 12 years of age."(20)

     LANGUAGE AND THE MEDIA

     Among the main outlets for the government's "pro-Slovak" rhetoric are the media. The state-run television station, STV, formally a public-service institution, is now a mouthpiece for the government and all things "Slovak." After the fall 1994 election, Meciar ally Jozef Darmo was named STV director. Shortly after his appointment, Darmo said television should aid in "the spiritual renewal of the nation." He noted that the media law demands that television be a "national, independent, nonpartisan, informational, cultural, and educational institution," meaning that television "cannot continue to be used to offend the nation...[or] national institutions." Within a few weeks, Darmo had canceled three popular political satires that were seen by the ruling coalition as being too critical of the government. Since then, STV viewers had been inundated with "pro-Slovak" programs featuring folk dancing, folk crafts, little-known historical figures, and Roman Catholic Church representatives--to the point where many Slovaks are simply turned off.

     As the privately owned TV Nova--a fast-paced, Czech-based, Western-style station--became more accessible in Slovakia, it claimed multitudes of STV viewers, becoming the most popular television station in areas where it is available. Despite the government's concern that Slovak children grow up knowing their mother tongue and culture, Czech words learned on Nova have nevertheless infiltrated the vocabulary of some Slovak youngsters. STV viewership fell even further after the launch in late August of TV Markiza, Slovakia's first private terrestrial station.(21) While the popular Slovak pop duo MC Erik and Barbara were apparently not "Slovak" enough to appear on STV, Markiza featured them on the first day of broadcasting.(22) Markiza has opted to purchase a number of Czech films, especially fairy tales and comedies, and the station envisages co-productions with Nova, with which it shares a common owner.(23)

     In terms of minority-language publications, state budget funds have been shrinking, and a number of Hungarian-language publications have been forced to close. Instead of helping out the struggling Hungarian-language publications, the Pro Slovakia cultural fund--which was given Culture Ministry funds to oversee the distribution of grants for the support of minority publications and cultural organizations--transferred large chunks of that money to several pro-government dailies, including the HZDS-owned SLOVENSKA REPUBLIKA, to publish supplements aimed at minority groups.(24) It is highly unlikely that minorities read those papers. At the same time, the Meciar government managed to find state funds to help set up a new youth-oriented, pro-government daily, NOVA SMENA MLADYCH, which failed just months after it began publishing in January.--Sharon Fisher

     NOTES

     1. For the text of the law, see BUILDING DEMOCRACY, Open Media Research Institute (Armonk, New York: M.E. Sharpe, 1996).

     2. See Jan Obrman, "Language Law Stirs Controversy in Slovkia," REPORT ON EASTERN EUROPE, 16 November 1990.

     3. LIDOVE NOVINY, 8 January 1996.

     4. NARODNA OBRODA, 2 February 1996.

     5. Ibid.

     6. LIDOVE NOVINY, 8 January 1996.

     7. Author interview, Bratislava, 14 October 1996.

     8. LIDOVE NOVINY, 8 January 1996.

     9. Author interview, Bratislava, 14 October 1996.

     10. SME, 16 August 1996.

     11. CTK, 4 January 1996; DOMINO, 23-29 February 1996.

     12. PRAVDA, 12 March 1996.

     13. Ibid., 7 February 1996.

     14. UJ SZO, 12 March 1996.

     15. LIDOVE NOVINY, 8 January 1996.

     16. DOMINO, 23-29 February 1996.

     17. NARODNA OBRODA, 8 February 1996.

     18. LIDOVE NOVINY, 8 January 1996.

     19. SME, 29 February 1996.

     20. Premiera TV, as reported by CTK, 29 September 1996.

     21. Visio Association poll, reported by TASR, 9 October 1996.

     22. LIBERATION, 9 October 1996.

     23. LIDOVE NOVINY, 15 August 1996.

     24. SME, 31 May 1995; SLOVENSKA REPUBLIKA, 1 June 1995.