Although “returns of retirement” have been recognised as a distinct category of return migration as early as Cerase (1974), and identified as lying on the intersection of two highly important phenomena: ageing and migration (King, Cela, and Fokkema, 2021), “retirement return migration” has not yet received the full attention it deserves (Ciobanu & Ramos, 2016).
An important contribution towards a better understanding of retirement return migration comes in the form of a recently organised museum exhibit entitled “Gastarbeiter stories: On the other side of the Pliva river,” collected and curated by Aleksandra Momčilović and Ljubica Vlahović at the Museum of Yugoslavia in Belgrade, Serbia and by Elma Hodžić at the Historical Museum of Bosnia and Herzegovina in Sarajevo, BiH.
The exhibit delivers a fascinating perspective on guest worker programs by outlining the grand historical narrative and infusing its “dream space” (Kavanagh, 2000) with an intimate glimpse into the lives of individual labor migrants and their families– through a compelling display of interviews, documents, authentic artefacts, and personal belongings.
Exporting labor – a “solution” to Yugoslav unemployment
The aftermath of WWII, the world is ideologically divided between the Soviet and the US spheres of influence. Yugoslavia’s Tito breaks up with Stalin in 1948, leaving the communist and socialist Yugoslavia outside of the international block divisions of the Cold War era. By the early 1950s, the Yugoslav unemployment problem becomes apparent and citizens from various parts of Yugoslavia begin emigrating to Western Europe in search of job opportunities. In its early phases, labor emigration was considered illegal by Yugoslav authorities, however, by 1962 a new law decriminalises labor out-migration and amnesties Yugoslav citizens working abroad. In 1966, Yugoslavia signs the first bilateral agreements on labor migration with Austria, France, and Sweden, officially becoming the first and only socialist country to provide a formal arrangement for its citizens to emigrate to the capitalist world. Yugoslavia signs a guest worker agreement with West Germany in 1968. Exporting labor is widely accepted in Yugoslavia as a “solution” to growing domestic macroeconomic instability and the high rate of unemployment.
The official relationship: The labor migrant and the two states
The exhibit positions the Yugoslav guest workers within the grand historical narrative marked by Cold war political dynamics. As exhibit viewers, we enter the migrants’ personal space first by examining their official documents formalising their relations to the two states. We see copies of their passports, employment contracts and, most importantly, the document which gives fulfilment to the migrants’ mission: the pension certificate.
Gastarbeiter Stories
The “On the other side of the Pliva river” exhibit in Sarajevo is an extension of the 2016 “Yuga, my Yuga” collection presented in Belgrade. Ethnographic fieldwork for the two exhibits also included 90 semi-structured interviews with guest workers and their children, mainly returning from Germany, with roots in Serbia and 30 interviews completed in Bosnia. The interviews discuss a wide range of topics related to integration abroad, their personal experiences of encounters with co-ethnics and the native-born populations, their shifting ethnic identities from the late 1960s to the breakup of Yugoslavia in the early 1990s, as well as their perspectives on life and working conditions abroad and how these compare to what they left at home. In terms of return decisions, there is a noticeable gender difference in the interviewees with women preferring to stay abroad with their now grown children (and grandchildren), while men tend to return to the home country in greater numbers.
A glimpse into the intimate space
The exhibit further humanizes guest worker programs and returns of retirement by offering a personal lens to examine a global phenomenon and by infusing new meaning(s) to the well-known phrase “We asked for workers; we got people instead.” We see pieces of autobiographic writing, family photographs from wedding ceremonies, belongings of personal significance brought back from Germany upon return, images from festivities organised in Yugoslav clubs and pictures of remittance houses built in the guest workers’ home towns.
Transnational encounters
Although the term “guest workers” or as they were called in Yugoslavia “workers temporarily residing abroad” (B-C-S: “radnici na privremenom radu u inostranstvu) implies a transitory, short-term state, for many this “temporariness” meant 40+ years, or their entire working lives. The time of living away from home also meant active interaction with the native-born residents. We see snippets of these interactions in a vivid collection of views German citizens share about the gastarbeiter from Yugoslavia living in Germany. Upon return to their homes in the Balkans the guest workers reminisce about various transnational phenomena such as labor union cooperation or the cultural significance of international festivals.
A tale of two (three) songs
There is an interesting musical side note to complement the main theme of the exhibit. The Belgrade version of the exhibit is named after the 1971 hit song “Yuga, my Yuga” performed by Silvana Armenulić and dedicated to Yugoslav guest workers abroad and their reflections on return home (B-C-S: kad se vratim u zavičaj). It is simply perfect as a title for the exhibit!
The Bosnian extension of the exhibit is titled “On the other side of the Pliva river” (B-C-S: S one strane Plive). Performed by various artists, also including the late Silvana and more recently the Sarajevo-based Divanhana, this Bosnian traditional song is also appropriate to some extent. Its piercing lyrics refer to Bosnia’s long history of out-migration and the deep pain associated with life “in foreign lands.”
Not denying our difficult past and with a sincere desire to overcoming its challenges, I felt it my responsibility to point out this small curating omission. The title of the Sarajevo exhibit could have been another Bosnian migration-themed song that does not simultaneously have such strong statehood symbolism for BiH. Having said that, the Historical Museum of Bosnia and Herzegovina in Sarajevo and the Museum of Yugoslavia in Belgrade cooperating on an important subject of shared history sets a wonderful example for future collaborative work. It gives hope for other similar initiatives, where we are able to look critically at our Yugoslav heritage and learn from it for the betterment of both Serbia and BiH.