KOSOVA:
A Country Yet Unborn

By Norman M. Naimark

The world is trying to sort out the unhappy province’s future, but Kosovar Albanians can’t wait much longer. By Norman Naimark.

A February 26 New York Times editorial criticized them for having “failed to live up to standards of human rights and democratic governance” spelled out by the United Nations. In fact, the government and people of Kosova have been remarkably patient with the international community, given their constantly frustrated desires for self-determination. Despite episodes of anti-Serb violence, they have also been notably restrained in their treatment of the minority Serbs, who showed them no mercy in the period of martial law and the campaigns of ethnic cleansing that followed.

In November 2005, the United Nations, which assumed responsibility for Kosova after Milosevic’s defeat, appointed former Finnish president Martti Ahtisaari as special envoy for determining the future of Kosova. The United Nations set up headquarters for the Kosova issue in Vienna and sponsored talks between the Serbs and Kosovar Albanians. Ahtisaari promised to deliver a much-awaited plan for Kosova in November 2006, but delayed it, fearing that it would disturb the Serbian elections, which were postponed until January 21. As it had many times before, the world bent over backward to accommodate the Serbs (and their Russian patrons). The Kosovar Albanians were again asked to wait.

Finally, on February 2, the Ahtisaari plan was released to the public. It sought to grant Kosova many of the symbols of statehood and self-rule: a flag, a constitution, and a small army and multiethnic police force, as well as the right to join international organizations. Kosova would remain under the supervision of an international envoy, who would have the right to intervene in Kosova government affairs, not unlike the European Union high commissioner for Bosnia, giving the Kosovars what has been called “supervised sovereignty.” Independence is “the only viable option,” Ahtisaari said when he submitted his report in March.

The most detailed sections of the plan had less to do with the status of Kosova than with the international community’s guarantee of the continued existence of the minority Serbian community. Under its provisions, the Kosovar Serbs would have substantial language rights and communal autonomy, and the Serbian Orthodox Church would be given special protection. Serbian communities would keep the right to make institutional arrangements with the Serbian government across the border.

Once again, the world bent over backward to accommodate the Serbs and their Russian patrons. And the Kosovar Albanians, a majority, were again asked to be patient.

Ahtisaari’s plan was well thought through as a compromise document and did its best to be fair to both sides. The problem is finding compromise between Serbs and Kosovar Albanians. History weighs too heavy on both sides. The Serbs believe that Kosova is part of their territory and cultural heritage, and will not willingly cede sovereignty over it. The Kosovar Albanians are firmly opposed to living any longer under the rule of the Serbs. No arrangement whereby Serbia maintains sovereignty over Kosova—where 90 percent of the population is Albanian and only 5 percent Serb—will be acceptable to the Albanians there.

The international community will have considerable difficulty breaking this stalemate, in good measure because of the attitude of the Russians and, to a lesser extent, the Chinese. Russian leader Vladimir Putin has repeatedly stated that Russia will not support a Kosova plan that is not agreed to by both parties. His foreign minister, Sergei Lavrov, sees no rush to come up with an agreement; he cites Cyprus and Northern Ireland as examples of international disputes that, like Kosova, can take a long time to resolve.

The Russians also play the Abkhazia card: If Kosova were granted independence from Serbia, then Abkhazia and Southern Ossetia should be granted independence from Georgia, and Transdniestria from Moldova. But that argument does not work. The United Nations is not responsible for either Georgian separatist entity or for Transdniestria, nor are NATO troops occupying those lands. Moreover, neither Georgia nor Moldova provoked a war with NATO and the West, as did Serbia.

There have been demonstrations and scattered violence by Kosovar Albanians since the announcement of the compromise plan. Two Kosovar Albanian demonstrators were killed by rubber bullets fired by the international police on February 10. In retaliation, militant Kosovar Albanians blew up several peacekeepers’ vehicles. The Kosovar government condemned the violence and pledged to go along with the Ahtisaari plan, as long as the eventual goal of independence is served. The plan is now being considered by the United Nations, amid fears that further delays might precipitate more violence.

The Serbs believe that Kosova is part of their territory and cultural heritage, but the Kosovar Albanians are firmly opposed to living any longer under Serb rule.

No Serbian politician can afford at the moment to cede Belgrade’s claims to Kosova; thus, the Serbian parliament rejected Ahtisaari’s draft proposal overwhelmingly. But just how deep do the Serbs’ claims go after 15 years of war and severe economic privation? Although the Serbian public is manifestly aroused by nationalist rhetoric about Kosova, when it comes down to it, the Serbs, like everyone else, want a peaceful and prosperous life for themselves and their children. They are weary of international opprobrium and isolation. They are ready to put the wars of the 1990s behind them and become part of Europe, as they deserve to be. Kosova is an ongoing financial and diplomatic drain on the state.

The Serbs hang on to Kosova as a symbol of past greatness and present influence, because they were unfortunately given the choice to do so in June 1999, when the NATO bombing ceased. Once the overblown symbolism of Kosova in Serbian politics is punctured by the reality of permanent separation, the Serbs in Serbia will adjust, just as they adjusted to losing Montenegro.

There will be a time of crisis if Kosova declares its independence, but it will not cause permanent damage. The Serbs have more important economic, social, and political agendas to accomplish. The whirl of rhetoric around the question of Kosova is a last gasp of the politics of Serbian nationalism that have caused too much harm already. Meanwhile, for Serbs in Kosova, the Ahtisaari document, if adopted by the United Nations, serves as the best chance for survival in their homes, churches, and communities.

Serbs, like everyone else, want a peaceful and prosperous life for themselves and their children. They are weary of international opprobrium and isolation and want to become part of Europe, as they deserve to be.

Ahtisaari himself has said that either the Serbian and Kosovar Albanian governments come to an agreement themselves, with minor amendments, or the world must impose one. But he recognizes that an agreement between the parties is highly unlikely, so the choices are really of a different nature. Either the United States and other Western nations persuade the Security Council to support the Ahtisaari plan for Kosova, or the Kosovar Albanians take matters into their own hands and declare independence. In that case, the Americans and Europeans should be satisfied with having done everything possible to mollify the Russians and Serbs. They should recognize Kosovar independence at long last.

Available from the Hoover Press is Reflections on Europe, edited by Dennis L. Bark. To order, call 800.935.2882 or visit www.hooverpress.org.

Norman M. Naimark is a senior fellow at the Hoover Institution. He is also the Robert and Florence McDonnell Professor of East European Studies, director of the Bing Overseas Studies Program at Stanford, and senior fellow of Stanford's Institute for International Studies.