The recently published biography of the last minister of foreign affairs of socialist Yugoslavia, Budimir Lončar: From Preko to the Top of the World, written by Tvrtko Jakovina, is undoubtedly an exceptional achievement. Its author, who teaches contemporary history at the University of Zagreb, is also among the leading voices in the Cold War studies, whose previous books helped situate the unusual role played by Yugoslavia in this global confrontation (The American Communist Ally, 2003 and The Third Side of The Cold War, 2011). The Yugoslav trajectory from an expansive satellite of Stalin that abruptly switched sides in the late 1940s, only to anchor its foreign policy to the emerging club of nonaligned countries is still in many ways fascinating, and so are the people who took part in it.
One of the best witnesses of these zigzags is certainly Budimir Lončar, whose career the book examines chronologically. We are able to follow the journey of a young man from Preko, small town on a Dalmatain island, from his schooling and participation in the Second World War (43–53) to an astonishing career in the hearth of international diplomacy (591–628). The subtitle of the book therefore attests not only to the talents of the protagonist, but also to the society that was able to make use of them. He entered Yugoslav diplomatic service in 1950, starting as a consular official in New York (59–118), returning to Belgrade in 1956 to establish an analytical department that he headed for a decade (119–78). He held ambassadorial posts in Jakarta (1965–69), Bonn (1973–77), and Washington (1979–83). He gained experience under impressive conductors of Yugoslav diplomacy such as Koča Popović, Marko Nikezić, and Mirko Tepavac, enjoying direct access to Tito, its principal creator. He not only witnessed but also actively contributed to positioning Yugoslavia in international relations during the Cold War, and was especially engaged in developing its policy of nonalignment, taking visible part in crucial summits in Lusaka (1970) and Havana (1979). After Tito's death, he remained one of the key figures in this domain, ascending to the position of a Minister of Foreign Affairs in 1987 (381–502). He resigned in late 1991, by which time Yugoslavia effectively ceased to function (503–90). During the Yugoslav wars, he was a high UN official, returning to Croatia as a presidential advisor for foreign policy.
Lončar's long and eventful career spans through several distinct epochs, spanning from the Korean War to Croatian accession to the European Union. His list of his acquaintances ranges from popes and communist strongmen to American presidents and European leaders, as well as businessmen and prominent figures from the cultural sphere and world of art. That only would make this book very important. What makes it indispensable is a symbiotic intellectual relationship that developed between Jakovina and Lončar during this project, conducted through a set of interviews from 2004 to 2019. That is not unusual in the realm of international relations history. One thinks of Winston Churchill's collaboration with William Deakin's team, or the authorized biography of George Kennan by John Lewis Gaddis. There is no such precedent in Yugoslav historiography, save for Tito's collaboration with his trusted biographer, Vladimir Dedijer (Tito Speaks, 1953). This cooperation went sour quickly, as Dedijer fell out of power. He spilled all his bitterness after Tito's death, publishing the multivolume edition, New Contributions for a Biography of Josip Broz Tito, which played a major role in undermining his cult during the 1980s.
Cooperation between Lončar and Jakovina developed along completely different lines. A skillful and sympathetic biographer, Jakovina made the most of Lončar's impeccable memory and his willingness to leave a detailed account of his activities. So detailed, in fact, that occasionally it is difficult to discern Jakovina's voice from Lončar's. However, although a favorable tone is certainly prevailing, this is not a book without critical reflections. The author was fully aware of the delicate nature of his position as a friendly biographer (12). He met that challenge by careful balancing between personalized narration and extensive documentary evidence, resulting in almost a hundred of pages of bibliography and references (631–723). Jakovina will hopefully succeed in his intention to open this sizable material for public scrutiny (16). That would be a huge impetus for further research and would maximize the effect of his book, which stands head and shoulders above previous attempt to unlock the citadel of Yugoslav foreign policy through conversation with its guardians.
