The Incredible Tito: Man of the Hour (6 page)

The Germans attempted counter-attacks. Panzer units that slashed into Slovenia were cut off and destroyed; and at that time, Russian pressure was growing. The Germans could not afford a full scale Yugoslav offensive against Tito's strengthened forces. Allied troops were hammering at them in Italy and the air attacks from the British Isles were assuming huge dimensions.

In addition, American and British liaison with Tito had been tremendously improved. The Yugoslav Government in Exile could no longer make its lies hold water, and only the diehard reactionaries in the American Press still praised Mikhailovich. Now, when Tito undertook a military action, flights of American and British planes supported him. Rumor had it that varied supplies were being transported by the Allies across the Adriatic in small boats.

THE PROVISIONAL DEMOCRATIC GOVERNMENT

A
T this juncture, the Yugoslav Liberation Front took a historic step. A Congress was called at Jajce, in the heart of Bosnia. There, delegates from every part of Yugoslavia met. In a large hall that was formerly a gymnasium, peasant leaders and working class leaders, priests and Communists, old political leaders and young military men sat side by side. It was fitting that they should meet there, in one of the oldest and loveliest Yugoslav towns, under the picturesque castle of old King Tvtkas.

The town had a festive air; this was free Yugoslav soil. Here was a school, a hospital, even a college hastily set up. Everywhere flags hung, most of them homemade, the American flag, the British, the Soviet flag, and the Partisan battle banner with its single five-pointed star.

Here, on December 4th, 1943, Marshal Tito proclaimed a provisional democratic Yugoslav government, and disowned the government in exile. The Free Yugoslavia Radio told the world that 140 elected delegates had met in a parliament representative of free Yugoslavia. Dr. Ivan Ribar was announced as the head of this government, and General Joseph Broz (Tito) was elevated to the rank of Field Marshal and made chairman of a new committee for national defense.

As might be expected, the Yugoslav Government in Exile screamed with rage, disowned Tito and the Liberation Front, and hysterically told the world that they were still the legal rulers of Yugoslavia. By this time, however, both Britain and the United States were too weary to listen. Tito and his men were killing Germans; the Partisans had driven the enemy from two-thirds of the land—and they had proved that the people of Yugoslavia supported them. Yet only a few days before this goes to press, the Yugoslav Government in Exile announced, with complete contempt for the truth, that Mikhailovich's army numbered 250,000 men—waiting for an allied invasion to attack the Germans.

Actually, Mikhailovich has ceased to be a factor in Yugoslavia—except for a certain nuisance value to the Germans. He harries the Partisans when he can; he is no longer strong enough to oppose them directly.

THE BATTLE CRY IS “LIBERTY”

T
ODAY, in Yugoslavia, the war goes on. The front stretches four hundred miles, from the German border in the north to Albania in the south. And along this front, 250,000 men of the Partisan Army battle the Germans. There, in Yugoslavia, are crack German divisions, some of the few remaining panzers, so sorely needed on the Russian front, assault troops, badly wanted in Italy, and seasoned Wermacht fighting men whom Adolf Hitler would dearly prize on the French coast. Here, in the grim mountains, in the deep forests, and on the wooded hills, the battle goes on—day and night.

Here men fight for the dignity and the freedom of all people; here Communists and non-Communists stand shoulder to shoulder—enacting together one of the most glorious and courageous dramas the world has ever seen. And leading them is a man of such stature as the storied heroes of old—Tito.

They will fight on until the battle is won, until a new and free and proud Yugoslavia stands again among the family of nations. And their battlecry echoes across the world:

DEATH TO ALL FASCISTS!
LIBERTY TO THE PEOPLE!

—THE END—

A BIOGRAPHY OF HOWARD FAST

Howard Fast (1914-2003), one of the most prolific American writers of the twentieth century, was a bestselling author of more than eighty works of fiction, nonfiction, poetry, and screenplays. Fast's commitment to championing social justice in his writing was rivaled only by his deftness as a storyteller and his lively cinematic style.

Born on November 11, 1914, in New York City, Fast was the son of two immigrants. His mother, Ida, came from a Jewish family in Britain, while his father, Barney, emigrated from the Ukraine, changing his last name to Fast on arrival at Ellis Island. Fast's mother passed away when he was only eight, and when his father lost steady work in the garment industry, Fast began to take odd jobs to help support the family. One such job was at the New York Public Library, where Fast, surrounded by books, was able to read widely. Among the books that made a mark on him was Jack London's
The Iron Heel
, containing prescient warnings against fascism that set his course both as a writer and as an advocate for human rights.

Fast began his writing career early, leaving high school to finish his first novel,
Two Valleys
(1933). His next novels, including
Conceived in Liberty
(1939) and
Citizen Tom Paine
(1943), explored the American Revolution and the progressive values that Fast saw as essential to the American experiment. In 1943 Fast joined the American Communist Party, an alliance that came to define—and often encumber—much of his career. His novels during this period advocated freedom against tyranny, bigotry, and oppression by exploring essential moments in American history, as in
The American
(1946). During this time Fast also started a family of his own. He married Bette Cohen in 1937 and the couple had two children.

Congressional action against the Communist Party began in 1948, and in 1950, Fast, an outspoken opponent of McCarthyism, was called before the House Un-American Activities Committee. Because he refused to provide the names of other members of the Joint Anti-Fascist Refugee Committee, Fast was issued a three-month prison sentence for contempt of Congress. While in prison, he was inspired to write
Spartacus
(1951), his iconic retelling of a slave revolt during the Roman Empire, and did much of his research for the book during his incarceration. Fast's appearance before Congress also earned him a blacklisting by all major publishers, so he started his own press, Blue Heron, in order to release Spartacus. Other novels published by Blue Heron, including
Silas Timberman
(1954), directly addressed the persecution of Communists and others during the ongoing Red Scare. Fast continued to associate with the Communist Party until the horrors of Stalin's purges of dissidents and political enemies came to light in the mid-1950s. He left the Party in 1956.

Fast's career changed course in 1960, when he began publishing suspense-mysteries under the pseudonym E. V. Cunningham. He published nineteen books as Cunningham, including the seven-book Masao Masuto mystery series. Also, Spartacus was made into a major film in 1960, breaking the Hollywood blacklist once and for all. The success of
Spartacus
inspired large publishers to pay renewed attention to Fast's books, and in 1961 he published
April Morning
, a novel about the battle of Lexington and Concord during the American Revolution. The book became a national bestseller and remains a staple of many literature classes. From 1960 onward Fast produced books at an astonishing pace—almost one book per year—while also contributing to screen adaptations of many of his books. His later works included the autobiography
Being Red
(1990) and the
New York Times
bestseller
The Immigrants
(1977).

Fast died in 2003 at his home in Greenwich, Connecticut.

Fast on a farm in upstate New York during the summer of 1917. Growing up, Fast often spent the summers in the Catskill Mountains with his aunt and uncle from Hunter, New York. These vacations provided a much-needed escape from the poverty and squalor of the Lower East Side's Jewish ghetto, as well as the bigotry his family encountered after they eventually relocated to an Irish and Italian neighborhood in upper Manhattan. However, the beauty and tranquility Fast encountered upstate were often marred by the hostility shown toward him by his aunt and uncle. "They treated us the way Oliver Twist was treated in the orphanage," Fast later recalled. Nevertheless, he "fell in love with the area" and continued to go there until he was in his twenties.

Fast (left) with his older brother, Jerome, in 1935. In his memoir
Being Red
, Fast wrote that he and his brother "had no childhood." As a result of their mother's death in 1923 and their father's absenteeism, both boys had to fend for themselves early on. At age eleven, alongside his thirteen-year-old brother, Fast began selling copies of a local newspaper called the
Bronx Home News
. Other odd jobs would follow to make ends meet in violent, Depression-era New York City. Although he resented the hardscrabble nature of his upbringing, Fast acknowledged that the experience helped form a lifelong attachment to his brother. "My brother was like a rock," he wrote, "and without him I surely would have perished."

A copy of Fast's military identification from World War II. During the war Fast worked as a war correspondent in the China-Burma-India theater, writing articles for publications such as PM,
Esquire
, and
Coronet
. He also contributed scripts to
Voice of America
, a radio program developed by Elmer Davis that the United States broadcast throughout occupied Europe.

Here Fast poses for a picture with a fellow inmate at Mill Point prison, where he was sent in 1950 for his refusal to disclose information about other members of the Communist Party. Mill Point was a progressive federal institution made up of a series of army bunkhouses. "Everyone worked at the prison," said Fast during a 1998 interview, "and while I hate prison, I hate the whole concept of prison, I must say this was the most intelligent and humane prison, probably that existed in America." Indeed, Fast felt that his three-month stint there served him well as a writer: "I think a writer should see a little bit of prison and a little bit of war. Neither of these things can be properly invented. So that was my prison."