The printed edition of one of the leading Croatian newspapers has a large portrait of a Chetnik today. Five of them came to Crimea from Serbia to defend Russians there, and he is their proud leader. The name of their unit is “Tsar Lazar,” after the Byzantine duke of Serbian origin who defended Kosovo from the Turks in the Fourteenth Century, and who got promoted to no less than a tsar in the Nineteenth Century. They have all the insignia hailing from World War II, long and bushy beards, and the requisite paraphernalia of Orthodox Christianity. “Serbia is a small Russia,” they preach, “and Russia is a big Serbia.” In spite of the inanity of it all, the Chetnik unit in Crimea has gotten the front page and a lengthy article in Croatia. Some of them have been in Croatia in the Nineties, they boast. I cannot but think of Marx, whose quote from The Eighteenth Brumaire of Louis Bonaparte (1852) used to be the motto of my Residua, which I put into my writings as the breakup of Yugoslavia was brewing (“Some Thoughts on Recent Events in Eastern Europe,” December 26, 1989). As Marx put it, “the tradition of all the dead generations weighs like a nightmare on the brain of the living.” As today’s front page testifies, Ustashas and Chetniks are still at each other’s throats. Like a nightmare, the past is transmitted to the present.