Recognition Without Power

Dumnica, Kosovo

A month has passed since Kosovo declared its independence on February 17. Cynics had predicted the meltdown of Kosovar Albanian society, accompanied by atrocities against Serbs and other minorities, but this has not taken place. Ordinary Kosovar Albanians, however--farmers and urban workers and tradesmen--have gotten over their immediate exultation and returned to a hard-headed wariness about Europe and its promises to help defend, democratize, and develop the new republic.

The meltdown, or something close to it, has come instead in Serbia proper, where on March 13 President Boris Tadic dissolved parliament and called for new elections on May 11. Serbian prime minister Vojislav Kostunica, the nationalist sold to the West in 2000 as a clean alternative to the late Slobodan Milosevic, precipitated the collapse of the Serbian administration. Put simply, the Tadic faction wants to continue to press for Serbia's entry into the European Union, even if it means giving up its historic claim to Kosovo.

By contrast, Kostunica and his supporters are ready to turn their backs on Europe in rage over Kosovar independence, and put all their hopes on support from Russia. In the coming Serbian elections, the "liberal" Kostunica may form a bloc with the Serbian Radical party, the most violent nationalist entity west of the Russian fever swamp.

Kosovo has been granted a status best described as "recognition without sovereignty." The list of countries establishing relations with the new nation (the roster can be found at kosovothanksyou.com) grows longer almost daily. But notwithstanding wild claims by Serbia and its supporters that Kosovo would become an Islamic republic, the Arab states and Iran are notably absent from the inventory. The only Muslim countries that had recognized Kosovo by March 20 were Afghanistan, Senegal, and Malaysia. Informed opinion in Arab circles holds that recognizing Kosovo would be viewed by Islamists as support for American policies rather than solidarity with a Muslim-majority country. Bangladesh, the Ivory Coast, Kuwait, Mauritania, Morocco, Pakistan, Saudi Arabia, and Tunisia have indicated that they will probably recognize the government in Pristina, but they seem to be in no hurry.

Still, diplomatic recognition of Kosovo, while viscerally satisfying for Kosovar Albanians and their friends, means little without the normal institutions of a free republic: clearly defined borders, a new constitution, an army, police, and an independent judiciary. Such powers are to remain in the hands of Europe for nine months or longer, under the Ahtisaari Plan, yet another of those tatty "road maps" promised to people at risk around the world.

NATO and especially the United States have given fairly clear assurances that a Serbian attack on Kosovo, or attempt to annex the northern corner of the country, will be met with military force, and U.S. Marines are among the contingents from the Kosovo Force (KFOR) that have been deployed to the divided city of Mitrovica, where Serbians continue to patrol, as they have since 1999, at the northern end of the bridge over the river Ibar, which runs through the town.

On March 14, having already seized control of railroad and customs facilities north of Mitrovica, a mob of Serbs occupied the U.N. court there, tearing down the blue banner of the international organization and replacing it with an extremist banner. U.N. police declined to confront the mob; a Ukrainian member of the U.N. police even placed a Serbian flag on a U.N. vehicle, for which the officer was suspended. After more dithering, international police took the building back from the crowd, but on March 17 the Serbs, allegedly coordinated from Belgrade, struck again, heaving grenades and gasoline bombs and shooting at the "internationals," killing a Ukrainian officer and wounding many. The U.N. police withdrew and were replaced by KFOR troops. But Serb soldiers and irregulars continuously poke and prod at Kosovo's northern frontiers.

Whether Belgrade will actually throw itself into a full-scale provocation against Kosovo statehood is debatable. Kosovar Albanians are more concerned that the European Union will simply divide the country and hand the north over to Serbia. Strikingly, Kosovars have a clear-sighted view of global politics: Vladimir Putin's Russia is the big threat, and Serbia is a pawn in Russia's bid to turn back the expansion of NATO and assert Russian influence over the whole of Europe.