The export offensive, a grand strategic plan to conquer foreign markets with Croatian manufacturing troops, has vanished like the Khazar people. Quietly and without a written trace. It began at a precisely determined hour, with trumpets and fanfares, broad support from the masses and intellectual elites, just like a real military offensive (precisely: The Dictionary of Foreign Words Anić – Klaić defines an offensive as a military attack, an advance, an aggressive and provocative stance).
However, no one was frightened by our invasive forces. Not a blink, let alone retreating before them. In the Croatian manner, the assault had no commander, so no one could be held accountable for failure and aimless wandering. Our armada, contrary to military and export logic, has camped before the walls of the Upper Town, and now its eyes have inertially turned towards the command – the Government of the Republic of Croatia. Incentives, favoritism in public tenders, tax and other reliefs, are just some of the requests that have been pleadingly directed to those above.
It is difficult to present an overview of all the invasive forces that have flooded the European continent in previous centuries, but in my humble opinion, all the fear they caused did not stem from their anonymity. All those hordes, armadas, armies had a terrible and far-reaching reputation. It is unclear who was more notorious, more famous: the Goths, Vandals, Avars, Saracens, Vikings, Mongols, Ottomans. All of them have collectively added clearly shaped stereotypes to Europe, which you can read across the entire continent in incredible ways today.
To be feared, to conquer, as if they had to recognize you, you had to be shaped. Almost a product. And then perhaps it is no wonder that a Dutch offensive could succeed. It would certainly be called the orange offensive, carrying with it liberalism, Van Gogh, cheese, beer, windmills, clogs, some consumer electronics, a multitude of shipping, banking, and generally agricultural experiences. In a word, polders. We need not waste words on a potential Italian, Swedish, or Swiss invasion; it is here, just peek into your apartment, refrigerator, or closet.
It may be clear that I am exaggerating, but I was prompted by a text recently published in the Wall Street Journal titled: The Lure of the Unpronounceable – Grapes from Croatia, Hungary and Slovenia are gaining a following (imprecisely translated: The Charm of the Unpronounceable – Wines from Croatia, Hungary, and Slovenia are gaining attention).
In a charming way and entirely between the lines, you can see what it means to export Croatian goods and how laborious that work is. Without tasting them, Croatian wines receive the word “crap” (again imprecisely translated: garbage, no quality) attached to them. And now you establish a reputation, prove quality. Exporting is not just saying and writing. It is sometimes a futile struggle against stereotypes, which is, for example, harder than starting to import goods originating from Equatorial Guinea, Lithuania, or Gabon into Croatia. It is to be assumed that you know little about those countries and that it would be very difficult for you to attribute qualities that we already have ready for Germans or Austrians.
