Widespread human rights abuse. A recalcitrant dictator, refusing to obey international law and the will of the UN. A security council split between members willing to act to fight for human rights and uphold the authority of the UN, and those with leaders apparently unable to see beyond a tight definition of national self-interest. A possible decision by the US and the UK to move without agreement in the security council. It must be Kosovo, March 1999.
During the decades before the death of Tito – Yugoslavia’s long-standing president – Kosovo operated as a largely autonomous area within Serbia. The old iron curtain order, however, effectively served as the guarantor of the relatively liberal regime allowed in Kosovo by Belgrade. During the 1980s, as the old Soviet order began to crumble, there was a rise in Serb nationalism, both encouraged and capitalised upon by Slobodan Milosevic. On coming to power in Serbia in 1987, Milosevic revoked Kosovo’s autonomous status and took other measures to ensure that the influence of Kosovo Albanians in the state apparatus was greatly reduced. He also declared a state of emergency.
Initially, resistance to these measures within Kosovo was passive. Then, during the 1990s, the Kosovo Liberation Army began a guerrilla war against Serb forces. The Milosevic government responded with a widespread regime of repression within Kosovo. The tactic of razing communities to the ground led to a growing fear that the coming winter would see the deaths of thousands of Kosovans exposed to the elements. At the height of the crisis, between the first few months of 1998 and 1999, over 2,000 people were killed and over 300,000 displaced.
The international community did not go to war precipitately. For over a year, all parties and interests were engaged intensively, culminating in the Rambouillet conference where, the ethnic Albanians approved the draft accords. The conference was sabotaged, however, by the Yugoslav delegation, which objected to deployment of the international peacekeepers, who would have monitored and assured the proposed accords.
Then, on 20 March 1999, in an apparent ‘final push’ aimed at destroying the rag-tag KLA, the Serbs launched a major offensive in Kosovo. By 23 March, in spite of the obvious refusal of Milosevic to engage meaningfully in a peace process, the Russians were still arguing that there was more room for negotiation and discussion. They refused to back UN action. On 23 March, NATO moved to begin air strikes on Serb positions, justifying them upon humanitarian grounds.
Air operations were suspended a little less than three months later, on 10 June, and NATO peacekeeping forces, as KFOR, began to move in. These forces, which would eventually top the 50,000 mark, set about managing the refugee flow – both of displaced Kosovans back to their homes, and of newly displaced Serbs. There were localised incidents of inter-ethnic cruelty but, at root, the Serb policy of ethnic cleansing had been reversed and neutralised. Subsequently, Slobodan Milosovic was indicted and put on trial in the Hague. His trial continues. Other key players on the crisis have been indicted and tried, and yet others remain on the loose – for the moment.
Kosovo provides ample illustration of the importance on the international stage of leaving room to act on what our hearts and minds say is the right thing to do, once self-indulgence has been discarded. This means having a political caveat for use when effective UN action is threatened by one member’s idiosyncratic decision. And it means achieving clarity about the relative benefits and risks of military action.
Crucially, however, the Kosovo campaign shows how the world’s leading states need a shared vision of a future international order upon which action can be taken, with a clear understanding of the moral responsibilities placed upon them, to enable true development for the world’s poor and oppressed.
Kosovo saw British, US and wider NATO forces deployed to protect Muslims, so the idea that a new world order is driven by some religious or cultural imperative is nonsense. It also saw humanitarianism raised as a legitimate reason to intervene in the internal affairs of a sovereign state. Lawyers can argue whether or not international law, as it is currently constituted (such as it is), allows this. More important is that we ensure that, in future, there is no doubt that international law does allow intervention on humanitarian grounds. This may require a new appraisal of the extent to which it is at present fit for purpose in all respects in this new century.
An enduring theme surrounding interventions by the international community is that of values. Are there universal values which, when breached, justify the effective suspension of sovereignty by the developed nations? Kosovo showed the way in this respect. Ethnic cleansing and government-sponsored human rights abuse are unacceptable and wherever we can prevent it, we will. Non-democratic regimes may not be able to change overnight, but they can engage with developed nations and deserve due credit when they begin to go forward on the long march towards modernity.
Finally, Kosovo helps us understand something about the nature of national and international leadership. The Kosovo campaign saw a strong tie between military and political dimensions. A sense of urgency and need for action was conveyed to the UK public. The decision by the Prime Minister to take military action was not universally popular but was widely accepted.
Broad public support, however, will not always come in the conflicts ahead. On such occasions, it is the lonely duty of leaders to do the right thing, regardless of the short-term implications for domestic popularity. It is worth noting, too, that leadership is layered, and it falls to members of parliament and others to press home the need for resoluteness at such critical moments.