Slovenia's politicians and media took the country's hosting of the historic first meeting between American President George Bush and Russian President Vladimir Putin very much to heart. In their view, the summit was a reward for good behavior in Europe's most troubled region, a chance to assert Slovenia's rightful place in the New Europe, possibly even a birthday present for the ten-year-old republic. Among ordinary Slovenes, however, the event seemed to create scarcely more interest than the following day’s referendum on artificial insemination. Like any other weekend, this one found most people far away from their homes and TVs. Nor was this general lack of interest too surprising, since the presidents kept their distance from Slovenia at large, meeting in Brdo Castle near Kranj, whose remote location and handy proximity to the airport made it ideal for two men with high security requirements and not much time to spare.

But most people seemed to agree that the summit would be "good for Slovenia", mainly in terms of greater visibility for the country. In that respect, as well as the basically smooth running of the event and the positive sounds the two leaders made after their meeting, it may be called a success. Having proved their considerable diplomatic skills by landing the summit in the first place, the Slovenes showed their skills for organization on the great day itself. Even the weather, the finest in weeks, seemed to have been special-ordered for the occasion. And then, just before he left, Mr. Bush gave the tourist trade everything it could have hoped for, calling on his fellow Americans to come and visit Slovenia.

Of course the Slovenes weren't taking any chances: policemen were thicker than lampposts on the highway between the airport and Brdo, while armored vehicles and helicopters created an atmosphere of vague menace in the capital city. Following the protests Mr. Bush had inspired on his previous tour stops, or even the edgy student demonstration in Ljubljana a few days earlier, the police may have been expecting the worst. However, whether it was due to their preventative border controls, arrests and deportations, or simply an idle, sunny day, only about 500 protestors gathered for an orderly, if rather unfocused parade. And even they would have had to agree that Slovenia's police, too, had met Western standards of organization and public order.

So the summit is now history, with Slovenian officials and the media expressing satisfaction and some relief. The country clearly demonstrated that it deserved the confidence the two superpowers placed in it. In memorable fashion it proved, even to the geographically-handicapped American public, that it belongs among Europe's "civilized" nations. In this sense, it seems like more than mere coincidence that such a high-profile event virtually coincided with the tenth anniversary of Slovenia's last hour in the international limelight. On 25 June 1991 the country declared its independence from socialist Yugoslavia. Fighting between the Yugoslav Federal Army and Slovenian forces lasted just ten days, with minimal casualties. International recognition and UN membership quickly followed. For the first time in history, Slovenia appeared on the scene as an independent nation, heading due West.

Since then, Slovenia has distinguished itself mainly as the only former Yugoslav republic that avoids the headlines. With only a little exaggeration, it may be said that the same government has ruled this country during its entire first ten years, thereby ensuring a certain internal stability (or stagnation, depending on your point of view). The past decade has likewise seen average yet steady economic growth, enough to make Slovenia one of the hottest candidates for the first wave of EU accession. And while Slovenia's failure to make NATO expansion in 1998 was a disappointment for some, the country may well have owed its chance to hold the Russian-American summit to this very fact.

When the news broke that Slovenia would host the meeting between Presidents Bush and Putin, many people, including Slovenes themselves, had to wonder why this country was chosen. Russian Foreign Minister Ivanov's blunt remark that he and Mr. Bush had simply spun the globe and pointed a finger only added fuel to the envious indignation of newspaper editors in neighboring Austria. Vienna, with its long history of high-level diplomacy (and diplomatic intrigue), was incensed that so prestigious an event could be entrusted to an inexperienced former province. Slovenia's leaders, on the other hand, regarded the summit as a sign of recognition for its rapid progress and excellent relations with both superpowers. Ordinary citizens seemed less convinced, wryly recalling how Mr. Bush greeted Slovenia's Prime Minister, Janez Drnovsek, as the leader of Slovakia during last year's American presidential campaign.

One fact was clear from the beginning: Slovenia is not the most direct point of intersection between Poland and China (from where Mr. Bush and Mr. Putin, respectively, were scheduled to arrive). So the reasons that made Slovenia the right place for the two touring presidents to meet were most likely strategic ones. Slovenia is practically the only country in Europe which is neither a NATO member nor the next-door neighbor of a former Soviet republic or Balkan hotspot. It thus represents the same sort of "neutral turf" that Geneva or Helsinki did in the days of the Cold War, yet without any such unwelcome historical associations. With tough issues like the American missile shield proposal and NATO expansion heavy on the summit agenda, Slovenian diplomats were able to "sell" Slovenia to the superpowers as a sunny, friendly, unproblematic little country, much as the national tourist board might have done.

The choice of the summit venue, Brdo Castle, also provoked some head-scratching, not least of all in Ljubljana. Many people in the capital city readily assumed (with typical arrogance, Slovenes outside Ljubljana might add) that a summit in Slovenia must ipso facto signify a summit in Ljubljana. Yet the Russian and American organizers obviously found Brdo, a 15th century palace with a stunning Alpine backdrop and a name that's relatively easier to pronounce than Ljubljana's, more to their liking. Whatever their reasons, the castle has excellent diplomatic credentials. Once the summer residence of legendary Yugoslav president Tito, Brdo has since been visited by leaders like Pope John Paul II, Prince Charles, Bill Clinton and Mikhail Gorbachev. Although the presidential summit was probably the most high-level event these old walls have yet witnessed, once again the choice of location was not as mysterious as it might have seemed at first.