AMERICAN IN BELGRADE SEES BOMBS FROM BELOW.

Byline: Dusan Djordjevich San Jose Mercury News 

Dusan Djordjevich, a doctoral student at Stanford University, is one of the few Americans remaining in Yugoslavia as the NATO attack continues.

He is in Belgrade writing a dissertation on 1930s Yugoslav politics and intellectuals, and he has been keeping a journal and writing e-mails to friends over the past several days. He selected these excerpts for the San Jose Mercury News.

Thursday, March 25, 7:30 p.m. Belgrade time

Air-raid sirens have just sounded, marking the second night of NATO's bombing. There were two waves earlier today of two or three hours each, the last one ending with an all-clear signal around 4:30 p.m. We quickly learned to distinguish the two signals, with the help of civil defense bulletins on TV and brochures stuffed this morning into mailboxes.

Downtown was quiet today despite the beautiful spring weather. Half or more of the stores seemed to be closed; the large outdoor market near my apartment was nearly deserted. A state of war has been declared, so gasoline is not being sold for private use. Schools and universities are closed.

Those of us who live and work in Belgrade's central districts don't fear direct airstrikes for the moment. In the outskirts and across the river, people feel less secure. They could hear explosions last night, presumably strikes against a suburban factory and nearby military base.

We have lived with the threat of airstrikes since October, but no one was sure what to expect, and there was a good deal of skepticism that such a serious bombardment would take place. People are calm but very worried and upset. Constant calls to friends and relatives (phone lines are working for the most part).

Saturday evening, March 27

Heavy bombing tonight and last night. Many are spending the evenings in shelters and basements. My cousin has come to stay with us; she lives alone on the top floor of a New Belgrade high-rise and was quite shaken up by raids and the large fire she could see from her window.

Daytime is calmer, a chance to relax a bit, try to catch up on lost sleep, stock up on essentials. Some choose to get out and stroll along the main shopping boulevard and in Kalemegdan Park, taking in the sunshine and sharing news. But when air raid sirens sound, or as the sun sets, the streets are deserted.

Monday, March 29

Ognjen Pribicevic, an opposition-minded scholar at Belgrade's Institute for Social Sciences, in this morning's paper:

``It's almost unbelievable the number of mistakes the Clinton administration has made with this aggression. . . . The biggest mistake is the completely mistaken assessment that through threats and force they can force the Serbian people to sign a document that would mean the loss of Kosovo. . . .

``NATO has accomplished what no one has managed to do before: erase all differences in Serbia between right and left, between conservatives and liberals, so that today we are all united in defense against the aggressor.''

The patriotic statement is representative of the mood and opinion of intellectuals here, even those who have been most critical of the regime and its policies in Kosovo.

In the Western media I hear some speculation or hope that as the damage mounts, anger will turn against the government. This is a misreading of the mood here, to put it mildly. (It also reveals ignorance of the usual effect of airstrikes.)

Nearly everyone now sees the bombardment as an unwarranted attack on their country, and anger and disappointment with NATO and the United States is only likely to grow. The destruction of lives and property is foremost on everyone's mind.

When talk turns to politics, the general view is that the bombardment is almost certain to harden attitudes toward Kosovo and increase suffering in the province; possibly destabilize the wider region; renew and consolidate support for the Belgrade government; and hurt if not cripple the prospects of democratic opposition forces within Yugoslavia.

For myself and many others, the most worrisome aspect is how unpredictable the course of events seems at the moment. It's not just our own ignorance, but the fact that no one in Brussels or Washington seems to have a good answer to the ``What next?'' questions. It is not clear under what circumstances either side might back off.

Tuesday, March 30

Theaters are presenting their plays for free.

Since Sunday, there have been noon rock concerts in protest of the bombing in Republic Square. Tens of thousands are attending, more each day despite the air raid alerts. Signs reflect a variety of emotions: ``NATO equals Nazis''; ``Your planes can't kill our spirit and courage''; plenty of references to Bill and Monica; ``For sale: One used F-117A.''

Most protests are peaceful. The main exception so far is at the French, American, British and German cultural centers along Prince Michael Street, which have been pelted with rocks, ransacked, covered with graffiti. The windows of the downtown McDonald's have also been shattered.

Over coffee, two graduate student friends seem depressed. Students and other Belgraders look back fondly on the good humor and solidarity of the mass pro-democracy protests of 1996-97. Some of that same spirit is evident in the current protests, but the occasion is of course much more grave, and so is the mood.

Last Tuesday, the day before the bombing began, I tuned in to watch the Schwarzenegger comedy ``Twins'' on TV and was greeted instead with a historical drama, ``The Battle of Kosovo.'' Since then, other shows have been pre-empted by old Partisan vs. German World War II movies or, more soothingly, classical music concerts. The patriotic army recruitment video is repeated endlessly.

Today they've shown Charlie Chaplin's ``The Great Dictator.'' Friday night, there was a surprise broadcast of ``Wag the Dog,'' with an introductory reminder about its current relevance. Tonight they're going to air ``Salvador'' and ``Mississippi Burning'' - ugly sides of American politics, as seen by American filmmakers.

On the other hand, one TV station has been broadcasting Disney movies all day long. Intended for bored or frightened children, no doubt, but I too found it comforting to watch bits of ``Peter Pan'' and ``Fantasia.''

Wednesday, March 31

Evenings (for those not in shelters) are spent on the phone and listening to the news via radio. The independent B92 has been taken off the air, although its e-mail news service still operates.

The main daily newspapers continue to publish. Vreme, the independent weekly known for its pro-democracy, anti-nationalist editorial policy, issued its second special wartime edition today. Its tone was solidarity with the people, defiance against NATO attacks.

It is hard to get an accurate picture of events - even for those trained, after nearly a decade of war and propaganda, in reading between the lines. Serbian media coverage seems relatively sober and reliable, although of course damage to civilian structures (factories, schools, homes, churches) is emphasized. Reports on the number of casualties and of NATO planes shot down seem less firm. Much rumor and speculation.

Many people have satellite dishes and watch European stations and CNN, and have thus been aware of the horrifying reports of mass flight and atrocities in Kosovo. Like Belgrade officials, Serbian TV has begun to issue denials, accusing NATO of propaganda. Refugees are interviewed to show that they are fleeing bombing rather than Serbian forces.

Many Belgraders have been allergic for years to the official version of events. However, there is also widespread sentiment - now at a fever pitch - that foreign media coverage has long been one-sided against the Serbs.

The confusion is not helped by contradictory reports from Western officials (Albanian leader Fehmi Agani was killed, then wasn't; refugee numbers fluctuate from 70,000 to 500,000).

So with no one sure whom to believe, there is some private discussion about how much credence to give accounts of atrocities. Most feel that chaos and increased extremism were the predictable results of the bombardment, and that NATO is now ``justifying intervention by the consequences of intervention,'' as Zoran Djindjic, president of the opposition Democratic Party, said yesterday.

There's talk of a pause in the bombing over Easter, which is Palm Sunday here in Orthodox Serbia. I hope so, and I hope it's a chance for reason to prevail, to step back from the brink - if we haven't already gone over it.