‘Oh, was that film Titanic made about him?’ and ‘The grief from that night is indescribable’: Two statements about Tito reveal a generational clash

"Comrade Tito has died!"—this was the sentence, delivered in a trembling voice by Miodrag Zdravković, a presenter on Television Belgrade on 4 May 1980, exactly 45 years ago, which left the entire former SFRY in shock and echoed thunderously across the world!m!

Although during the morning hours it seemed there were fewer than in previous years, they were, as always, highly motivated to honour "the greatest son of our peoples and nationalities." On flags, red stars, and caps, in their hands pictures of Tito, bouquets of flowers, wreaths...

Equality, unity, solidarity, education available to all, excellent healthcare, secure jobs—these are the main reasons why many, as they told Kurir, still mourn the Marshal to this day.

“People were human beings back then, and now they are inhuman. You could take a Macedonian health insurance card and get treated in Slovenia and no one would ask you a thing. Order was respected, there was mutual respect—young for old. There’s none of that anymore,” says Jorgij Nikolov from Kočani in North Macedonia for Kurir

He says he saw Tito in 1979 at the JNA stadium as a participant in the final relay rally. When Tito died, Jurij was serving in the JNA in Ćuprija.

“Back then, we all watched the evening news. Not because anyone forced us, but because we wanted to. When they said his condition had improved, we’d all cheer with joy. When they said it had worsened—we’d all fall silent... And then one day, I returned from guard duty, had just lain down when the corporal entered and said: ‘Comrade Tito has died.’ That grief is beyond words.”

Verica Petrović from the United Yugoslavia association also speaks with nostalgia.

“We were all like brothers. We didn’t lock our doors, we could leave our kids with the neighbours to watch. Today, they wouldn’t want to look after them, nor can we trust them,” says Verica, who saw Tito several times and always felt as though he was waving just at her.
There used to be brotherhood and unity, and now we divide ourselves every chance we get, says Zdenka Kraljić from Međimurje in Croatia, while Vlastimir Jeftić from Vlajkovac adds that he visits Tito’s grave every year and won’t stop until he dies:

 “I was a railwayman, and I could afford a brand-new Zastava car on my salary, I took my wife and kids to the seaside. I’d get a free holiday from the union, and just pay for them,” Vlastimir says, while a woman nearby interjects

“More foreign delegations and famous, influential figures came to his funeral than to the Pope’s.”.

Cveće Miljković from Ruma says that for many people today, Tito symbolises their youth.

“Tito was our youth. We were all from that time. We were all Tito’s pioneers, Tito’s youth, Tito’s volunteers, Tito’s youth again... We had that brotherhood and unity. I was a pioneer and went to the seaside through school. It didn’t matter whether we were in Slovenia, Croatia, Montenegro... What mattered was friendship,” he says, adding that as a boy he stood beside the railway in Ruma to see him, and at the same spot saw the train that carried his coffin

Žikica Đorđević from Zvezdara was received by Tito in the White Palace along with about thirty top workers—brigadiers—after returning from a working drive.

“We went wherever we wanted. Travel, clubs, activities... Now you pay for everything. We lived better then than rich kids do today, and we had—nothing!”