Monday, Aug. 01, 1994
Return To Sender
By Bruce W. Nelan
The Bosnian Serbs wanted to just say no. They did not intend to accept the U.S-European proposal for partitioning war-torn Bosnia and Herzegovina. At the same time they preferred not to proclaim themselves the main obstacle to peace. So after two days of secret discussions last week, the Serbs' self- appointed legislature in Pale sent a written reply, coyly sealed in a pink envelope, to the international mediators in Geneva. It turned out to be a no masquerading as a maybe: without giving a straight answer, the Serbs called for "further work" on the proposed map and other issues.
The map was the heart of a last-ditch peace effort offered by the so-called contact group of the U.S., Russia, Britain, France and Germany. Under their rules, hedging was unacceptable, and the two sides were expected to take the plan or leave it. When the proposal was presented to the Muslim-led Bosnian government and the Serb rebels on July 6, it came with an ultimatum: if they turned it down, they would be punished. The Bosnian government signed on without conditions. But the Serbs, who have never met a peace plan they liked, coolly called the bluff. Foreign ministers of the five would-be peacemaker states are to meet in Geneva on July 30 and try again to muster the political will to punish Serb defiance.
Not that the Serbs' rejection was a great surprise, since there was plenty in the plan for everyone to dislike. The Clinton Administration approved a partition that would award the Serbs title to towns they had purged of Muslims with violent "ethnic cleansing" -- something Washington had said it would never accept. The Bosnian government and its Croat-federation partners thought the 51% of the territory they would receive was too little. They may have said yes only because they expected the Serbs to say no.
For their part, the Bosnian Serbs also viewed the 49% share they were allotted as too small; their troops have already captured 72% of the country. Last week they presented additional demands, including Serbian access to the Adriatic Sea, a share in governing the capital city, Sarajevo, an end to economic sanctions against Serbia proper and certain "constitutional arrangements." The last is a veiled reference to the Bosnian Serbs' call for recognition as a separate state free to merge one day into a Greater Serbia. For the Bosnian government, on the other hand, a legal unity of the state is essential.
In hopes of putting pressure on the Serbs, the contact group had floated hints of the punishment they would inflict on the naysayers. First, they warned, they could tighten economic sanctions on Serbia, the Bosnian Serbs' backers and suppliers. Second, they might expand and police the security zones around six mostly Muslim areas. Finally, as a last resort, the Bosnian government might be exempted from the international arms embargo that affects all of the former Yugoslavia but hurts the Muslims and Croats most.
Now that members of the contact group have to deliver on some of those threats, it is not certain they will be able to do so. The Russians, traditional allies of the Serbs, did not share the American view that Pale had said no. The reply, said Russian Foreign Minister Andrei Kozyrev, had "a positive element" and was "not devoid of logic." In other words, let's keep talking. Even if it turns out that there is enough harmony in the contact group to squeeze Serbia with new economic sanctions, they are unlikely to be more effective politically than those already in place.
Expanding the security zones around Muslim enclaves -- where tanks and artillery are banned -- could require the use of military force beyond the strength of the 13,000 U.N. troops in the country. If they tried to push the Serb forces back, Pale's troops might launch a full-scale attack on the lightly armed blue helmets. "If the exclusion zones are enforced," warns Yasushi Akashi, the U.N.'s special representative, "peacekeeping troops may be seen by the Serbs as an enemy, which would make our withdrawal necessary." Says another U.N. official: "Extending the exclusion zones would amount to going to war against the Serbs."
The U.N. military commander in Sarajevo, British Lieut. General Sir Michael Rose, also fears that his forces are stretched too thin. "If we are going to go further down the road of enforcement," he says, "there will come a time when I will have to say I really do have to hand over to somebody else, such as NATO." Of course, NATO would not be likely to take that assignment without U.S. participation, and Washington has ruled out use of its ground troops except to police a peace settlement.
Lifting the arms embargo on Bosnia, though much discussed, seems even less likely. The Serbs could respond with an immediate offensive aimed at winning the war outright before new weaponry could reach the Muslims. Britain and France, with thousands of their troops on the ground, are worried that they would be targeted for revenge attacks but now might be ready to consider dropping the embargo. Russia would almost certainly veto the idea.
Summing up the outlook for this week's meeting of the contact group, Bosnia's U.N. Ambassador Muhamed Sacirbey says, "The international community < is together only as long as there are no potential disagreements. It's a joke." That is exactly what the Serbs were counting on when they rejected the partition plan. Some analysts believe the Bosnians will go on the offensive to try to reclaim some of their lost land. Either way, as long as it is impossible to secure a negotiated peace, all that remains is more war.
With reporting by James L. Graff/Zagreb