www.macleans.ca/
June 23, 2003
THE BLOODSHED CONTINUES
Four years after NATO's arrival, Serbs and Albanians are still deeply
divided by SCOTT TAYLOR
During the bloody breakup of Yugoslavia in the early 1990s, Ottawa
journalist Scott Taylor travelled repeatedly to the region. Later,
during the 1999 conflict in the Serbian province of Kosovo, he spent 26
days in Belgrade and Pristina, Kosovo's capital. This year, Taylor
returned to Kosovo in late May, almost four years after the fighting
ended. He says that despite the presence of thousands of NATO troops,
and millions of dollars in foreign aid, crime is rampant, while tensions
remain between Serbs and ethnic Albanians -- who make up the majority in
Kosovo. Taylor's report:
THE CROWD of Serbs gathered outside the charred remains of a small home
on the outskirts of Pristina was nervous. Hours earlier, at about 2 a.m.
on June 4, someone crept into the house and beat Slobodan Stolic, 80,
his wife Radmila, 78, and their son Ljubinko, 53, to death with what
police described as a blunt instrument, and then torched the house. The
brutal message was not lost on neighbours, who believe the three were
murdered by Albanian extremists trying to drive the remaining Serbs out
of the village. And it was a stark reminder that Kosovo is still a
violent place, one where the soldiers who came to protect ethnic
Albanians from Serbs in 1999 now spend their time trying to shield Serbs
from Albanians. "Kosovo," says James Bissett, Canada's former ambassador
to Yugoslavia, "continues to be one of the most dangerous places on
earth -- with little hope for the future."
In 1999, to escape Serbian forces sent in to suppress them, nearly one
million ethnic Albanians fled Kosovo for refugee camps in neighbouring
Albania and Macedonia (Kosovo's population of 2.2 million was about 90
per cent Albanian). Most of the refugees have since returned; now,
thanks to nearly $2.7 billion the West has spent on aid, the country
seems to be prospering. But appearances are deceiving. Nearly 18,000
NATO peacekeepers patrol Kosovo, and a UN police force, made up of 4,400
officers from around the world, tries to enforce the law. Some say they
are losing the fight. Criminal gangs, operating under the guise of
Albanian nationalist militias, traffic in drugs, weapons, and women for
the European sex trade. If it wasn't for the millions of dollars in
foreign aid washing through the province there would be little work. All
this leaves Bissett wondering what the West has accomplished. "The
justification for NATO's intervention was to build a democratic
multi-ethnic society," says Bissett. "But little progress has been made
to establish law and order."
Following the war, over 200,000 Serbs fled the province. The remaining
40,000 live in isolated enclaves along the Serbian border. Nationalist
groups, like the Albanian National Army, are using terror tactics in an
attempt to drive them out. On May 17, in the village of Vrbovac,
41-year-old Serbian professor Zoran Mirkovic was shot repeatedly in the
chest and head. Although UN police are still investigating, the ANA,
which is made up of members of the original Kosovo Liberation Army, may
have been behind the killing.
The ANA is one of several militant groups that are determined to make
Kosovo, which is still part of Serbia, an independent state. Like other
militias, they are also involved in organized crime, but still enjoy
wide public support for their efforts to drive out the remaining Serbs.
Although police have arrested some key Albanian crime bosses, the
problem persists, says Derek Chappell, 51, a former constable with the
Ottawa Police Service who now works with the UN police as chief of
public information in Pristina. He says because the country was
oppressed for so long, the line between freedom fighter and criminal is
often blurred. And whenever the UN makes high-profile arrests, those
apprehended wrap themselves in the flag of Albanian nationalism, and the
streets are suddenly filled with protestors.
Most Western countries had expected democracy, not the mafia, to thrive
in Kosovo. And although under the terms of the 1999 ceasefire agreement,
Kosovo was to remain Serbian territory -- albeit a region with its own
parliament
-- many nations quickly established some measure of diplomatic relations
with the province. Canada was one of the first, when then-foreign
affairs minister Lloyd Axworthy cut a ceremonial ribbon to open Canada's
offices in Pristina in November 1999. Since then, the Canadian
International Development Agency has spent more than $100 million in
Kosovo on programs that include teacher training and helping to rebuild
the country's shattered infrastructure.
The UN had hoped that both Serbs and ethnic Albanians would be fairly
represented in the Kosovo Assembly, which was elected under UN
supervision in November 2001. But many of the resolutions passed by the
Albanian-dominated body have been divisive. On May 15, members approved
a resolution to celebrate the contribution that KLA fighters made in the
struggle for Kosovo's liberation. Serbian delegates immediately stormed
out, and within hours, Michael Steiner, the UN's special representative
in Kosovo, reminded the assembly that NATO's intervention was initiated
as a result of "fundamental human-rights violations," not to liberate
Albanians from Serbs.
Serbs in Kosovo cannot hope for much help from the Serbian government in
Belgrade. There, criminal gangs also run rampant, and are believed
responsible for the assassination of Prime Minister Zoran Djindjic on
March 12. Beset by its own problems, Belgrade may be ready to back down
on its claim to Kosovo, which was part of medieval Serbia and contains
many important Orthodox shrines. According to Slobodan Tejic, a member
of the Serbian delegation involved in negotiations with NATO, that may
mean abandoning most of the province and absorbing a number of small
Serb enclaves located along the Serbian border. "These people," said
Tejic, "cannot continue to live in limbo forever."
Kosovo Serbs might be willing to go along, but only if it means they do
not have to give up even a sliver of their remaining enclaves. That is
certainly the view in the northern city of Mitrovica, where Serbs have
resisted the movement of Albanians into their region, which stretches 60
km from the Serbian border into Kosovo. Mitrovica is divided by the Ibar
River; there, a group known as the Bridgewatchers, who were backed by
Belgrade, often blocked the passage of Albanians. Under the terms of a
recent deal with Serbia, the UN has now opened the bridge -- and that
has raised doubts among local Serbs about their future. But most are
determined to stay. "Even if Belgrade chooses to betray us, we will
continue to resist," said Bozovic Miroljub, a 47-year-old shopkeeper.
"We are not prepared to give up our claim to any of the Serbian
enclaves."
Until the issue surrounding the Serb enclaves is settled, ethnic
tensions will remain. That could mean that NATO and the UN will be
bogged down in the province for years. A harsh reality -- considering
that the West is currently facing a similar problem in Iraq. Problems
could be avoided there, says Chappell, if a strong police force were to
be created immediately to contain crime and ethnic divisions. It is a
lesson the West was slow to learn in Kosovo -- and a mistake that may be
in the process of being repeated in Iraq.
Scott Taylor is publisher of Ottawa-based Esprit de Corps magazine.
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