Monday, May. 11, 1998
Kosovo Smolders
By Massimo Calabresi/Vienna
Ethnic warfare hasn't disappeared from the crumbling remains of Yugoslavia; it's simply moved south. The rebellious province of Kosovo today looks dangerously like Bosnia yesterday: Serb soldiers marauding through isolated villages, firing wildly at the inhabitants; corpses of women and children laid out for identification by relatives; stony-faced refugees scrambling for shelter across hillsides covered in scrub oak; belligerent young ethnic Albanian rebels waving Kalashnikovs and grenades at random roadblocks.
Amid the tenuous Balkan peace, the ethnic Albanian majority in Kosovo is rising in revolt against the heavy-handed nine-year rule of the Serb minority. Tired of domination by Belgrade, alienated by linguistic, cultural and religious differences, the Kosovars, as the Kosovo Albanians are called, have long pushed peacefully for freedom from Serb-run Yugoslavia. Now they insist on nothing less than full independence, but Serbia's strongman, Slobodan Milosevic, who set the bloody standard for nationalist retaliation when Croatia and Bosnia tried to break away, is just as determined to block that. As the hatred builds and hard men on both sides pick up their guns, the U.S. and Europe's key powers are once again unable to unite behind any plan for strong action.
Until a year or so ago, the estimated 1.8 million Kosovars responded to Belgrade's iron hand largely with passive resistance. Then a small militant group calling itself the Kosovo Liberation Army started killing Serb policemen and Kosovar collaborators. By the end of last year, they had carved out several no-go zones in the central region, pushing the Serb police into hasty retreat. Starting Feb. 28, Milosevic ordered a lethal sweep against the strongest of the rebel zones, killing more than 80 Kosovars, including 30 women, children and elderly men.
That galvanized ethnic Albanians. The Liberation Army built up a concentration of forces near the Albanian border, and with an escape route closer to hand, the guerrillas grew more brazen, attacking Serb police and military camps. Four rebels maintaining a checkpoint at the border village of Smonica two weeks ago were cocky with confidence they could take on the Serbs. "I hate them so much that if I fired my gun up in the air, the bullet would find its own way right between some Serb's eyes," said one of the guards, cradling his rifle. "Every day people come to me on their knees and beg me to give them weapons to fight," said another, a tough guy in sneakers, camouflage fatigues and a red Chicago Bulls cap. "The Serbs may come to Smonica," he says, "but I'll take as many of them as possible before I die."
Milosevic has responded in kind. In mid-April members of the Yugoslav Army's elite 62nd and 73rd airborne brigades were dispatched to the rebel zones to weed out bands of fighters. Last week Serb police forces called up their reservists, boosting the total Serb strength in Kosovo to almost 40,000, complete with helicopters and artillery. Belgrade defends the crackdown as necessary to stop growing arms traffic from Albania, which it claims is abetted by the government in Tirana. To prove it, Serb officials last week displayed a massive cache of captured weapons. While there is some gunrunning across the highly porous border, Milos Vasic, a military analyst based in Belgrade, doubts there is any grand Albanian conspiracy. "I think the military has brought most of the weapons they displayed from elsewhere," he says.
Albania denies it is actively supporting the rebels and in turn accuses Serbia of cross-border incursions. Now Tirana has called on NATO to prevent further violations. "We're worried about Serbs crossing our borders," says spokesman Ben Blushi. "That's why we've appealed to the international community for a military presence."
They shouldn't hold their breath. The Contact Group charged with monitoring the Balkan peace, made up of the U.S., Britain, France, Germany, Italy and Russia, has done little to cool off the crisis. After it threatened to impose new sanctions if Milosevic did not end his crackdown, the Serb President launched a propaganda barrage, filling the state-run media with spurious tales of the torture and murder of Serbs by Kosovars. When the Contact Group suggested international mediation to settle the separatist struggle, Milosevic ordered up a plebiscite in Serbia--that won hands down--against outside involvement.
Those tactics merely inflamed the ethnic Albanian drive for independence. "If he wants to keep Kosovo stable and in Yugoslavia," said a Western diplomat, "he's doing absolutely the wrong thing." But the dodges were enough to flummox the Contact Group. At a meeting in Rome last week, the U.S. privately threatened to pull out if the group didn't stiffen penalties. Washington finally managed to persuade four of the members, but not Russia, to freeze Yugoslav assets overseas. Even that gesture was largely symbolic because Milosevic had already transferred much of the money to Yugoslav banks.
As the Contact Group fails to unite, their greatest fear--local war erupting, then spreading quickly into Albania and Macedonia--comes closer to materializing. And if serious fighting does start, quelling it may be too costly. The U.S. and its allies still hope they can persuade Belgrade to give Kosovo greater autonomy and convince Kosovo to remain part of Yugoslavia. One goal could be to grant the same status to Kosovo enjoyed by Yugoslavia's remaining republics, Serbia and Montenegro, if Kosovo gives up the right to secede. A tough mediator might be able to force the necessary concessions, but so far the West is too weak even to bring Milosevic to the table.
Meanwhile, the Kosovar rebels have grown just as dangerously belligerent and uncompromising. "The Serbs have been trampling all over us for years," said the young tough at the Smonica checkpoint. "Not any more. We are not Bosnian Muslims, and we will not allow ourselves to get butchered." That cockiness, combined with Serb intransigence and Western inaction, is a perfect recipe for a wider war.
--With reporting by Dejan Anastasijevic/Smonica and Douglas Waller/Washington
With reporting by Dejan Anastasijevic/Smonica and Douglas Waller/Washington