Macedonia is on edge of all-out ethnic conflict

By Jonathan Steele

LONDON: Macedonia has never been closer to all-out ethnic conflict, and British troops have never been nearer to full-scale intervention in a Balkan war than they are this weekend. That is the size of the potential disaster looming in the wake of the contradictory events of the last few days: on the one hand the initialing of a peace agreement after weeks of tense negotiation, on the other a massive flare-up in the clashes between ethnic Albanian guerrillas and government forces and a new wave of refugees fleeing revenge attacks by angry civilians.

Two separate logics are driving the crisis, and neither is easily stoppable. Inside the country, the tendency towards Macedonia's de facto partition is gathering pace, with villages that were once bi-ethnic gradually being abandoned by their minorities, either after arson attacks against shops and homes, or under pressure from guerrilla gunmen. On the international level, western countries which were accused of acting too late in the earlier phases of Yugoslavia's collapse are being sucked into sending forces to try to pre-empt a civil war.

During the Bosnian war British, French and other foreign troops acted impartially, fulfilling a UN mandate to protect convoys of food aid and medicine, while fighting -- and atrocities -- raged around them. As reports of new horrors shocked people across Europe, calls grew for action to stop the ethnic cleansers, but only in the war's later stages did the international contingent use artillery and airstrikes to try to reduce Bosnian Serb pressure on Sarajevo and the "safe havens" declared by the UN. Its actions were fitful and indecisive, hamstrung by the desire to remain "neutral" -- as the massacre victims of Srebrenica were to discover.

In Kosovo, impartiality was abandoned. The west took sides, and Britain and France were willing to threaten the use of ground troops against Serb forces, although they bowed to Washington's preference for a bombing campaign. Now we have Macedonia, a country which was calm and forgotten during the earlier disasters and often touted as a model of common sense.

When long-simmering grievances boiled over this spring, provoked by an unanticipated guerrilla insurgency, the west's diplomatic intervention came laudably early. It has been energetic and sustained. European envoys and NATO's secretary- general, Lord Robertson, first used moral pressure to urge ethnic Albanian and Macedonian leaders to talk to each other about reforms, with the carrot of eventual European Union aid.

When the talks stalled in June, the envoys became full-scale mediators, controlling the agenda and proposing the compromises. As the Bush administration got its act together (with a Balkan policy that, in spite of last year's campaign rhetoric about disengagement, has turned out just as assertive as Clinton's), a senior American diplomat joined in. Together they persuaded the Macedonian government to offer concessions to meet the Albanian minority's demand for greater civil and language rights even while the insurgents remained in control of several towns and villages.

The international envoys also opened contacts with the guerrilla leaders, brokered local ceasefires, and convinced them to end the armed struggle and hand their weapons to NATO troops if a political agreement was reached. That deal was done last Wednesday, and the way opened for a signing ceremony on Monday and the arrival of a British-led force of 3,500 troops soon after. The political and military parts of the package are skillfully synchronized so that parliament has to pass the laws needed to enshrine the offers of greater rights to the Albanians in the same period as the guerrillas complete their handover of weapons. No delays on "de-commissioning" here.

So far, so good -- except for two major issues. Macedonia's ethnic geography has changed radically. The Macedonian Slav minority has fled from Tetovo and the villages near it, probably never to return. Some had their homes looted and burned. Others are too scared to go back. Similarly, the Albanian minority in Bitola and Prilep has also been forced out by arson or fear.

Even if this week's political settlement -- with its implicit recognition that Macedonia is a bi-ethnic state -- is implemented in full, on the ground the country has moved towards partition on ethnic lines. In Bosnia the Dayton agreement, in spite of its talk of recreating a single state, has not reversed a similar trend. So too in Kosovo, where the Serb minority lives in fragile enclaves, with international peacekeepers barely able to protect them where they are, let alone make it safe for them to go home.

The other major problem is the role of the international troops. On paper their mandate is clear. They will not move in until an open- ended ceasefire is accepted by both sides, and after yesterday's clashes that looks uncertain. Once fully deployed, they will only stay for 30 days. Their job is to organize the collection of weapons. If things go wrong, the squaddies will be "extracted".

But will they? What if the ceasefire breaks down? Each side may be tempted to provoke the other into armed clashes, hoping the foreigners will help it. In historic terms the Albanians, as the petitioning minority, have done best out of last week's deal and have less to gain by upsetting it -- though people's appetite for justice often turns to greed, and gunmen often become addicted to war and find it hard to kick the habit. Macedonians, by contrast, feel they have been bullied into concessions, and some may try to block them or seek revenge. They may also think the west will turn against the Albanians if they can be portrayed as ungrateful extremists, just as has happened to some extent in Kosovo.

So it will need the highest level of professionalism for the British-led force to resist provocations and not take sides. In a sense its mandate of disarming the Albanians already makes it a kind of surrogate brigade of the Macedonian army. It must not slip into becoming a real back-up for the Macedonian security forces if fighting breaks out.

The final danger centers on the capital, Skopje, where around 200,000 Albanians live. What happens if Macedonian hardliners, determined to complete their country's partition, try to drive this huge minority out? Shops have already been attacked and pogroms on a larger scale, fuelled by rumor and tit-for-tat actions, cannot be ruled out. Could foreign troops turn a blind eye if civilians are killed in great numbers? This is where the initially separate logics of ethnic partition and international military intervention start to intersect. The prospect ahead is daunting.

-- Guardian News Service