Ambassador Nikola Dimitrov Macedonia Discovers Whatís in a Name by Larry Luxner At 32, Nikola Dimitrov is the youngest ambassador in Washingtonóand his country is even younger. Rising out of the ashes of the dying Yugoslavia, the Republic of Macedonia was born only 13 years ago. And by the way, itís now politically correct to call the country Macedonia, now that the Bush administration has finally done away with the awkward and contrived Former Yugoslav Republic of Macedonia (FYROM) moniker that had been forced upon the country since 1991. Dimitrov says that Nov. 4óthe day the State Department officially tossed FYROM into the trash bin of historyówill be remembered as "a great day" for his nation. "It brought confidence to my countrymenís hearts," the ambassador said in a lengthy interview last month. "People who are not involved think this is just another typical Balkan dispute over symbols. But for us, it became a security issue, because thereís a perception that provisional names are for provisional countries. People associate FYROM with the dissolution of former Yugoslavia, and with instability." FYROM, which Macedonians have hated for years, was a concession to Greece, which vehemently opposes the "Republic of Macedonia" name on the grounds that it implied territorial ambitions on a northern Greek province also called Macedonia. Following the path of breakaway Slovenia, Croatia, and Bosnia and Herzegovina, Macedoniaóthe poorest of the six republics of Yugoslaviaódeclared independence on Sept. 8, 1991, and was admitted to the United Nations in 1993. But because of loud and bitter Greek objections, many countries including the United States insisted on referring to the nation of 2.2 million inhabitants as FYROM. Some U.S. publications even went so far as to call citizens of that country FYROMians, out of deference to official State Department protocol and their Greek readers. Greece imposed two embargoes on Macedonia: The first lasted from August to December 1992, the second from February 1994 to September 1995. Both blocked Macedonian access to Greek ports and severely affected trade with nations to the south. And because of the strict U.N. sanctions against Serbia, Macedonia lost 70 percent of its market, which was a great blow to the economy. Today, however, all of the Balkan countries have diplomatic ties to one another, and Greece ranks as the number-one foreign investor in Macedonia. "We have very good relations. This name issue has been the only open issue left," Dimitrov says. "I firmly believe that we have common national interests in terms of having a stable region that will one day be part of the European Union and NATO." He points out that Macedonia amended its constitution at the request of the Greek government in 1995 "to explicitly say that we do not have territorial aspirations toward any other country." One possible solution to the name dispute, he says, "might be to have one name for our bilateral relations with Greece, and another name for the rest of the world." Dimitrov, an easygoing sort who speaks fluent English and Serbo-Croatian as well as his native Macedonian tongue, has a law degree from the University of St. Cyril and Methodius in Skopje and a masterís degree in international law from Kings College in Cambridge, England. He began his Foreign Ministry career as a human rights lawyer in 1996, and then in 2000 became deputy foreign minister. After six months, he resigned in protest of Macedoniaís decision to establish diplomatic relations with Taiwan, a move that infuriated Chinese authorities in Beijing. He notes that "itís not up to a small country like Macedonia to have a say with regard to that problem." Dimitrov then became national security adviser to President Kiro Gligorov and worked closely with him during the countryís crisis of 2001, in which 90 people died in clashes between Albanian rebels and Macedonian security forces. As a reward, he was sent to Washington to replace the countryís first ambassador, Ljubica Z. Acevska, who had served since 1995. "I am probably in between a career diplomat and a political appointee. Iím not a member of any political parties in Macedonia," says Dimitrov, who is here with his wife, Maja, and their 5-year-old daughter Jana. As in many formerly communist regimes, Macedonia, upon independence from Yugoslavia, quickly replaced its old guard with young, Western-educated technocrats. A case in point: Before Dimitrov took up his post in Washington three years ago this month, the youngest ambassador in town was from Latviaóanother newly independent Eastern European nation. "With countries in transition, trying to change their economic and political system, it often happens that we have generational gaps," the ambassador says. "People who worked too long in another environment are not quite used to these new things. So thatís why there are many opportunities open to young people." It hasnít been easy, however. Ethnic tensions continue to divide Dimitrovís landlocked little country, which according to the last census is populated by Macedonians (65 percent), Albanians (24 percent), Turks (4 percent), Serbs (2 percent) and smaller numbers of Vlachs, Romas and other minorities. The predominantly Muslim Albanian minority has long contended that their numbers are actually closer to 40 percent, and that the government officially discriminates against them in ways ranging from denying them Albanian-language education to making it difficult for Albanians to become citizens of Macedonia. In fact, proportional employment of ethnic Albanians in the administration was a key provision of a Western-brokered agreement that ended the 2001 hostilities. "We have always tried to develop good relations with our neighbors," Dimitrov says. "We cooperated with the international community in the Kosovo crisis, and we accepted 350,000 refugees from Kosovo, which at the time was 18 percent of our population. Most of them have since gone back to Kosovo, though the Roma are still in Macedonia because they donít think itís safe to go back." As violent as it was, Dimitrov says Macedoniaís crisis of 2001 was "incomparable" to the bloodshed that engulfed the other former Yugoslav republics. "Macedonia was the only country that got its independence from Belgrade peacefully," he says. "Macedonia is the last hope for a functioning multiethnic democracy in the Balkans. Weíre still multiethnic, and we intend to remain that way." Still, the State Departmentís recognition of the name Macedonia didnít happen in a vacuum. It was a calculated risk by Washingtonódone at the cost of infuriating its Greek alliesóto discourage Macedonian voters from approving a referendum scheduled later that week, which would have repealed the Ohrid Framework Agreement, a package of civil rights granted to ethnic Albanians after the crisis of 2001. In Athens, reaction was swift and angry. Greek Foreign Minister Petros Molyviatis complained to U.S. Ambassador Thomas Miller that the decision to drop FYROM would have "multiple negative consequences." A Foreign Ministry official said Secretary of State Colin Powell later phoned Molyviatis to "assure him that the decision is not a turn against Greece." Nevertheless, the administrationís gamble paid off, because the referendum was defeated with only 25.6 percent of eligible voters even casting ballotsówhich is exactly what both the U.S. and Macedonian governments wanted. "The United States chose the timing [of the announcement] when they thought a reassurance and a positive message of stability would be needed and most useful," says Dimitrov. "The referendum was based on fear for the future of the country. The recognition of the constitutional name addresses that fear and contradicts it." Part of that agreement deals with broadening the jurisdiction of local authorities in the areas of health, education, infrastructure and environment. Another part deals with territorial reorganization. When Macedoniaís internal boundaries are redrawn, there will be only 80 municipalities, as opposed to 123 before. And under the new law, in municipalities where a particular minority comprises at least 20 percent of the population, the mother tongue of that community will become an official language. So in the towns of Struga and Kichevo, for instance, street signs will begin appearing in Albanian as well as Macedonian. "In every country, the redrawing of boundaries is a controversial issue. Itís especially difficult when there are ethnic issues involved," the ambassa dor says. "Those two cities will now have Albanian majorities. Thatís why this law was so controversial. It raised fears that it would cause migration of Macedonians from these cities." Asked if Macedonians and Albanians get along, Dimitrov replies that the two groups "coexist" even if relations arenít the friendliest. "Iíd say the new generation is more inclined to interact. And I would say thereís a profound understanding that we have to build this country together. Weíre bridging that gap, but itís going to be a very long process. Integrating into the European Union would help." But EU membership is a long way off for Macedonia, a poor country suffering from high unemployment and a shortage of foreign investment. Dimitrov says the country would be hurt even more in 2005, when U.S. quotas on textiles will be removed, forcing Macedonia to compete on a level playing field with low-wage countries, such as China and India. That could further add to problems in Macedonia as factories that produce coats, shirts and suits go out of business for lack of customers. A more short-term goal for Macedonia is membership into NATO. Dimitrov says an invitation to join NATO could come as early as 2006. To that end, the country has around 30 peacekeeping soldiers in Iraq, and a similar-size contingent in Afghanistan. "While working on our multiethnic democracy at home, we want to demonstrate our readiness to help where international missions are needed," he says. "Being on the other side of that story, we have benefited from international peacekeeping missions, so we know how valuable that assistance is." Next June, the embassy is moving to another building, the former French consulate on Wyoming Avenue. Dimitrov hopes the move will persuade his government to allocate more funds to the embassy, which currently has a staff of 10. Yet the road ahead is filled with potholes. Just last month, for example, Macedoniaís prime minister quit his job over disagreements with ethnic Albanian coalition partners. Hari Kostov, who became prime minister in May, had accused the Albanian Union for Integration Party of promoting partisan interests, nepotism and corruptionóalthough Dimitrov downplayed Kostovís resignation and denied press reports that it had "set off a government crisis" in the Balkan state. "This resignation of our prime minister does not mean there is a political crisis in the country," Dimitrov insists. "He was not a member of any political party, and this was a personal decision. He found it difficult to work in that capacity. Weíre going to have a new prime minister way ahead of the constitutional deadlines, and Macedonia will continue to pursue its policies. I have a feeling that we are in the last stage of the tunnel, so to speak. We are leaving our problems behind, and hope to have a better future." Larry Luxner, a Washington-based freelance journalist and photographer, is a contributing writer for The Washington Diplomat. He has visited Macedonia twice.