National Crisis

Torrential Serbian protests filled the hall of a great mansion at Belgrade. "No, no--you shall not go out. Think, father Nikola, of what the doctor said! Please, you must not go out into the night air. . . ."

"Bring me my overcoat," said Nikola Pashitch gruffly. Bearded and patriarchal, he spoke with the quiet firmness of one who has been his country's Premier eleven times. He had taken only a glass of milk and some cheese for supper, and soon he would be 81, and the doctors had spoken of apoplexy-- but he was Pashitch. A crisis threatened, and King Alexander was waiting. When his coat was brought M. Pashitch slung it about him, kissed his eldest daughter gravely, and rolled away in his limousine. . . .

Since 1923, when an assassin fired upon him, seeking to kill the Bismarck of Serbia, the windows of the limousine have been of bulletproof glass.

Crisis. The events which sent M. Pashitch hurrying to his King were typical of many a Balkan crisis. The country had supposed that Foreign Minister Nintchitch* was in close touch with Premier Mussolini, and also that the new Jugoslav-born President Zogu of Albania was under his thumb. Like a thunderclap had come the news that Albania and Italy had concluded a mutual accord (TIME, Dec. 13). A rumor spread that this treaty contained secret military clauses which would make Albania an Italian pistol pointed at Jugoslavia. Suspicion, fear, hate seethed. Evidently Foreign Minister Nintchitch was a fool. He had pursued a conciliatory policy toward Italy, he signed an accord with Rome last year; and now Signor Mussolini and President Zogu of Albania had both double-crossed him. He was a numskull-- so raved the press of Belgrade. Down with him!

Thus popularly reviled Foreign Minister Nintchitch resigned. The long tottering cabinet of Premier Uzunovitch fell with him. All this occurred--in typical Balkan fashion--before the Italo-A1bania Treaty of Tirana had been registered with the League, as it soon will be, and in spite of vigorous Italian denials that it contains any military clauses whatever. A scalding teapot tempest brewed.

Man of the Hour. Jugoslavs turned in their alarm and uncertainty to the great Pashitch, the bulwark of the present dynasty, the statesman who trebled the Kingdom of Serbia at Versailles, expanding it into Jugoslavia.

What if he would soon be 81? Did he not say recently in jest: "So, so! My tasks are nearly done. I have only to live until I find a wife for our five-year-old Crown Prince Peter" (TIME, May 10). The sap was running strong in M. Pashitch yet, it seemed. When he rode away to the Royal Palace it must have been to accept the Premiership for the twelfth time. Pashitch would take the helm. Everything would be all right. ...

When M. Pashitch returned from his conference with King Alexander he went straight to bed. Later he tossed and moaned, became unconscious. His physicians, hurriedly summoned, found that an artery in the brain of M. Pashitch had burst. There was no hope. The right half of the brain was already paralyzed. To relieve the blood pressure and permit M. Pashitch to recover consciousness for a few minutes external bleeding was induced by an incision. For an instant he rallied, recognized his daughter and whispered something as she bent over him. Then Death came in a red mist. Jugoslavia had lost her Great Man.

Aftermath. The national sorrow exceeded all ordinary bounds. Black flags were unfurled spontaneously everywhere. King Alexander came and stood as though dazed at the bedside of his dead counselor. Tears streamed from His Majesty's eyes. When he finally left the room he returned a moment later to clasp the dead statesman's hand. . . .

For two days and nights speaker Trifkovitch of the National Congress watched over the Great Leader, then fainted from exhaustion. . . .

A plain golden oak casket received Nikola Pashitch at the last. Slowly, on a rumbling gun carriage, he passed to his grave through broad avenues which were muddy roads in his youth. As clods fell upon the casket a priest bearing a silver tray of steamed wheat gave to each onlooker a few grains which they munched in mystic symbolism.

For the time being all efforts to form a new Cabinet ceased. But the national crisis was not forgotten in the national sorrow.

*Recently President of the Assembly of the League of Nations (TIME, Sept. 20).