Spoiling for a Fight

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Vojislav Seselj is not a subtle man. During the Bosnian war, the veteran Serbian politician threatened to level the Croatian capital, Zagreb, with a nuclear bomb. Paramilitary units under his leadership did not carve out enemies' eyes with pocket knives, he once told a reporter, they used rusty spoons. He's even accused ex-President Slobodan Milosevic of being too tolerant of minorities. That resumé might be a liability in some parts of the world, but not in Serbia, where the leader of the Serbian Radical Party, 48, is expected to get 30% of the vote in presidential elections scheduled for Dec. 8. He won't win, but the result could provide an unexpected pulpit for his hardline views. "He's my heart and soul," explains Ilinka Tasic, 50, kissing Seselj's silver-haired likeness at a vegetable market overlooking the Danube. "He is a true patriot."

Authoritarian politics still has an audience in Serbia. But Seselj's re-emergence reflects a more general frustration among Serbian voters with their democratically elected leadership, which, two years after Milosevic's ouster, has yet to produce the kind of economic results that many Serbs had hoped for. Seselj insists he is running to flush out corruption and succor the poor. But for Serbs like Nikola Barovic, a human rights lawyer who was once kicked in the head by Seselj's bodyguard, his campaign means "the catastrophe of the Milosevic era is still going on."

Next week's election represents Serbs' third try in less than three months to choose a president. The previous effort, a runoff, failed because not enough people turned out. (Under Serbian law, 50% of registered voters must cast a ballot to validate the result.) Diplomats in Belgrade say the vote could fail again for lack of interest, forcing another attempt next year. The biggest loser so far is Vojislav Kostunica, the current President of Yugoslavia, who has outdistanced his rivals in both elections but who could be out of a job next year, when the Federal Republic of Yugoslavia becomes just "Serbia and Montenegro."

In the first round, Seselj came in third, with 23% of the vote. But he insists all "Serb patriots" will vote for him this time, thanks to the endorsement of Slobodan Milosevic and his old party. But Seselj has run a strangely negative campaign. In press conferences and on TV talk shows, he has attacked not just his presidential rivals, but most members of the current government. In a press conference last week, he claimed that Serbian Vice Premier Nebojsa Covic recently ordered his assassination, and that Kostunica's office was "in a panic" to cover up evidence of its ties to organized crime. "They will sell everything that is worth selling to the foreigners and then move to the Bahamas," he said. "My aim," he later explained to TIME, "is to destroy the mafia. I am showing that I am not afraid of criminals no matter where they are."

Others say he is doing what he has always done: dish the dirt against his political enemies. Milosevic and Seselj "want to make Serbia's new leaders look as bad as possible," says Ljiljana Bacevic, head of the Institute for Social Sciences at the University of Belgrade. Given voter discontent, that shouldn't be too difficult. In a recent survey, 50% said they were not satisfied with the direction the government was taking, versus just 14% who were content. Voters are dismayed both by the country's economic troubles and the infighting that has plagued the new leadership, notably between Kostunica and Prime Minister Zoran Djindjic, former allies whose rivalry, diplomats say, is blocking reforms.

The biggest casualty of Seselj's noisy run may be voter interest. His supporters' fervor is matched only by the disgust of many ordinary Serbs, who see his continued presence as proof that the whole process is tainted. Their failure to vote could leave the post open indefinitely. On a windswept afternoon last week in the Square of the Republic, an American official working for the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe (O.S.C.E.) invoked the democratic tradition of Athens and Rome to urge Serbs to turn out. "It's about you," read a huge billboard behind him. "Vote! December 8!" Few passersby paid attention. With candidates like Seselj gracing the ballot, many would prefer to look the other way.