ECUADOR: STATE OF EMERGENCY IN OIL ZONE

from Weekly News Update on the Americas

AMAZON: STRIKE IN OIL PROVINCE

Residents of the oil-rich Amazon province of Napo in eastern Ecuador began an open-ended strike on Feb. 20 to demand resources to carry out public works in the region. On the first day of the strike, hundreds of people seized a pumping station of the state oil company, PetroEcuador, shutting down the flow of oil for nearly 17 hours. On Feb. 21, protesters shut down the Sardinas pumping station of the privately owned Heavy Crude Pipeline (OCP); police broke up the occupation there early on Feb. 23. The OCP is owned by the US oil company Occidental, the Canadian firm Encana and the Spanish-Argentine company Repsol-YPF.

The government refused to negotiate with protest leaders, and on Feb. 21, protesters clashed with police. The protesters exploded sticks of dynamite, seriously injuring several police agents; police used gunfire against the protesters. A 19-year-old protester, William Mamallacta Noa, was struck in the head by a bullet; he was transferred to Quito where he remains hospitalized in intensive care. Doctors believe he may have permanent brain damage. Activists say 34 people were wounded by bullets, detainees have been tortured and 12 protesters have disappeared.

The government declared a state of emergency in the zone on Feb. 22, suspending civil liberties. Massive raids were carried out in Tena, the provincial capital, and soldiers confiscated food and supplies from local residents. Security forces blocked anyone from entering the oil town of Baeza, including human rights volunteers trying to verify reports of abuses. A police general in Tena told the Ecuadoran Permanent Human Rights Assembly (APDH) that army Gen. Gonzalo Meza is directly responsible for the repression and excesses committed by security forces.

After at least six hours of negotiations in Quito, Napo provincial officials, representatives of the government of President Alfredo Palacio and Gen. Meza reached an agreement late on Feb. 23. The government agreed to free some 35 people arrested during the protests, lift the state of emergency and arrange for about $100 million worth of public works in the region, including a highway through the Amazon, a new airport and funding for education and for water, sewer and electric services.

Napo governor Gina San Miguel announced the end of the strike on Feb. 24: “I want to tell the entire country that this [strike] was a response to the lack of attention from each successive government,” said San Miguel. San Miguel and Quijos mayor Rene Balladares were among 30 people arrested on Feb. 21; both were freed hours later. Journalist Pedro Arevalo was also among those arrested. (Resumen Latinoamericano, Feb. 24; Miami Herald, Feb. 24; Diario La Hora. Quito, Feb. 24; APDH, Feb. 24; Financial Times, Feb. 23)

Weekly News Update on the Americas, Feb. 26

QUITO: PROTESTERS BLAST TRADE PACT

On Feb. 8, at least 2,000 people marched through the historic center of Quito, Ecuador, to protest the Andean Free Trade Agreement (referred to as the Free Trade Treaty, TLC) being negotiated with the US, Peru and Colombia. The students, retirees, teachers and union members were also marching to demand that the US oil company Occidental (Oxy) be forced to leave Ecuador for having violated its contract terms. Students were also demanding special discounted bus fares, and the retirees were demanding an increase in their pensions. Unlike similar marches in January, there were no serious incidents with police. (EFE, Feb. 8)

Some 1,500 residents of Sucumbios province in northern Ecuador, led by provincial governor Luis Munoz and Lago Agrio council member Angel Villacis, left in buses on the night of Feb. 6 to attend the Feb. 8 protest in Quito. The Sucumbios residents are also demanding that the government of President Alfredo Palacio fulfill promises made in the resolution of a regional strike last August, as well as cancel Ecuador’s contract with the US oil company Occidental and reject the TLC.

Police initially tried to block the caravan of 50 buses in Santa Cecilia, just outside Lago Agrio, but the protesters managed to evade police and continue toward Quito. In Canton Baeza, an hour and a half from Quito, police stopped the buses and forced the protesters to get out. The police then attacked the protesters with tear gas. The demonstrators continued their march toward Quito on foot. (Campana Continental contra el ALCA, Feb. 7 from Servicio Informativo OPCION)

Some 100 striking Ecuadoran flower industry workers demonstrated on Feb. 7 at the Mariscal Sucre airport in Quito to protest the harsh conditions faced by flower workers. The workers at Rosas del Ecuador have been on strike for three years; they were supported at the demonstration by the Confederation of Indigenous Nationalities of Ecuador (CONAIE) and by the Austrian organization Swedwind – ConAccion. The protest was held at the hangars where boxes of flowers were being loaded onto planes headed for Valentine’s Day sales in the US and Europe. A similar protest was held in Vienna, Austria.

Christina Schroeder of Swedwind – ConAccion clarified that the purpose of the protests is to inform people about conditions and demand fair treatment for workers, not to boycott the industry. According to Jaime Breilth of the Health Research and Advisory Center (CEAS), 80% of Ecuador’s 400 flower producers “dramatically fail to comply with international codes of social, labor and ecological conduct.” (Minga Informativa/ALAI, Feb. 8)

Weekly News Update on the Americas, Feb. 12

——

Weekly News Update on the Americas
http://home.earthlink.net/~nicadlw/wnuhome.html

See also WW4 REPORT #118
http://www.ww3report.com/node/1535

——————-

Reprinted by WORLD WAR 4 REPORT, March 1, 2006
Reprinting permissible with attribution

Continue ReadingECUADOR: STATE OF EMERGENCY IN OIL ZONE 

VENEZUELA: U.S. ATTACHE EXPELLED

from Weekly News Update on the Americas

On Feb. 2, in a ceremony marking the seventh anniversary of his first inauguration, Venezuelan president Hugo Chavez Frias announced the expulsion of US naval attache Cmdr. John Correa. “I have evidence,” Chavez said, that Correa was carrying out espionage work along with a “group of traitor [Venezuelan] soldiers who are being brought to justice.” If US military attaches continue these activities, Chavez added, it may be necessary to “withdraw the entire so-called US military mission in Venezuela.” The US embassy denied that any attaches were “involved in inappropriate activities.” Chavez had warned on Jan. 30 that Venezuelan intelligence had “infiltrated” the US embassy.

At the same ceremony, Chavez announced a number of social measures, including a 15% increase in the minimum wage and the end of an unpopular 1% tax on bank transactions. He also signed a decree granting 80% of the new minimum wage to Venezuelan housewives with serious economic difficulties.

Chavez’s expulsion of Correa came on the same day that US defense secretary Donald Rumsfeld and US national intelligence director John Negroponte delivered unusually harsh criticisms of Chavez in Washington. “He’s a person who was elected legally, just as Adolf Hitler was elected legally and then consolidated power, and now is, of course, working with [Cuban president] Fidel Castro and [Bolivian president] Mr. [Evo] Morales and others,” Rumsfeld said. (New York Times, Feb. 3; Resumen Latinoamericano, Feb. 3)

[German dictator Hitler came to power in January 1933 when he was appointed chancellor (prime minister) to head a coalition government which included his National Socialist party; Chavez was elected president in 1998 with 56% of the vote.]

Weekly News Update on the Americas, Feb. 5

——

Weekly News Update on the Americas
http://home.earthlink.net/~nicadlw/wnuhome.html

See also WW4 REPORT #117
http://www.ww3report.com/node/1435

“Chavez threatens to cut off oil to US,” WW4 REPORT, Feb. 27
/node/1659

——————-

Reprinted by WORLD WAR 4 REPORT, March 1, 2006
Reprinting permissible with attribution

Continue ReadingVENEZUELA: U.S. ATTACHE EXPELLED 

WATER PRIVATIZATION FOR EL SALVADOR?

by Paul Pollack

The office of SETA, El Salvador’s water workers union, sits like a mouse at the elephant’s feet. The union’s plain, two-room office lies next door to the huge, block-long two-story building which is the headquarters for El Salvador’s National Water and Sewage Administration (ANDA). Inside the SETA office, union reps equipped with an old computer and chairs with broken rollers are bracing for a fight against government attempts to privatize their industry. Representatives for SETA say losing the fight could mean the “extinction” of their union, and limits on Salvadorans’ access to clean water.

Tropical El Salvador receives in rainfall three times what its six million inhabitants consume annually. But water is a delicate topic where less than six in 10 households have it piped in. Even in urban San Salvador, where potable water is more pervasive, service is unpredictable.

“We wake up at four o’clock in the morning to fill our containers,” says Azucena, who lives in San Martin, a San Salvador suburb. “If not, you have to wait three days until it comes again.” To demonstrate, she turns the knob to the only faucet in her two-room home. Nothing comes out.

Sometimes water stops running for days, sending residents scrambling to bathe or relieve themselves at friends’ houses. Those who can afford $15-20 a month can buy drinking water from private companies that sell five-gallon containers door-to-door out of large blue trucks. The cost is about six times the monthly ANDA bill and out of reach for most Salvadorans. About 70 percent of those with jobs earn the minimum wage of $158 per month.

Workers say that President Tony Saca is pushing a privatization proposal to comply with requirements couched in a 1998 loan from the InterAmerican Development Bank (IDB). The IDB loan was revised to rebuild water systems destroyed by a devastating 2001 earthquake. Strangely, the revision also provided money to “decentralize” ANDA, set up smaller municipal water companies and open them to public-private concessions. The government has not yet passed ANDA reform legislation, but 19 municipalities, representing 18,000 household water connections, are voluntarily experimenting with a variety of concession formats.

SETA workers argue that concessions are a stepping stone to full privatization. “The government is exacting an institutional sacking of ANDA to justify the need for concessions,” says Wilfredo Romero, general secretary at SETA. He notes that ANDA’s 2006 budget is 15% lower than 2005. Funding is lower than any time in since 2000—despite the fact considering that one-third of the country’s homes lack running water.

According to the right-wing daily La Prensa Graphica (Dec. 27), the majority of this year’s cut—$13.3 million–came from the “investment” section of ANDA’s budget, a 37 percent slash from the 2005 level.

“There’s no way that local municipalities can maintain the level of funding of a national entity like ANDA,” says Oscar Carpio, SETA’s secretary of negotiations, “So, in most cases, local water management will eventually be fully concessioned to private investors.”

Despite the deep cuts in their budget, ANDA officials seem unconcerned. In a La Prensa Grafica interview, ANDA President Manuel Arrieta calmly maintained that co-investment is the answer to the budget shortfall. “If we add up what we receive from international cooperation and other institutions, we’ll maintain the amount of investment that we had [in 2005].”

Free Trade, Water Privatization and the IFIs

The IDB, the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund are the largest purveyors of water privatization worldwide. These international financial institutions, or IFIs, primarily pitch their privatization plans through “structural adjustment” loans, where borrower nations promise to reform sections of their economies as a condition for receiving loan money.

In World Bank vernacular, “hydro-sector reform” is a euphemism for privatization and the “structural adjustment” of laws governing water management and usage. Behind the charitable guise of providing water to the poor, the majority of the water projects are implementing changes that shift control of water management and propriety over water itself from democratic forums (like city councils and state legislatures) to corporate board rooms.

The consumer watchdog group Public Citizen reports that the IDB and World Bank together administer about 133 different water and sewage-related projects, funded to the tune of $9.7 billion. The majority of these projects are in Africa and Latin America, and most of them include some type of “hydro-sector reform.”

The World Bank often makes the decentralization of national water administrations (such as ANDA) and the implementation of concessions to private corporations mandatory reforms included under the conditions of its projects and loans.

Another common reform is known as “cost recovery,” whereby borrower nations agree to operate national or municipal water companies at a profit. Until “cost recovery” was implemented, most national governments subsidized water delivery since access to water has been traditionally viewed as a right, not a privilege. However, as structural adjustment forces governments to abandon the universal access doctrine, poor folks are stuck with higher water bills and forced to make excruciating trade-offs between water, food, medicine or school fees.

The IDB in El Salvador

While the IDB has been pushing privatization in El Salvador since the 1998 loan was approved, resistance from consumer groups, environmentalists, and the opposition FMLN political party have stalled wholesale implementation. In August 2005, SETA, as part of a larger activist coalition, prevented the introduction of a bill that would have mandated concessions in 152 of the 262 municipalities throughout the country.

The bill would have gutted ANDA and ceded its management role to newly formed municipal water companies, as the IDB loan stipulated.

The stalling of the bill was a sweet but short-lived victory. SETA reps worry that if the ruling ARENA party wins a congressional majority in the March elections, the bill will be re-introduced—signaling a gloves-off fight over whether corporations have providence over El Salvador’s water.

CAFTA’s Hidden Influence

As political parties gear up for the coming water law debate, the Central American Free Trade Agreement is set to go into effect March 1, 2006. CAFTA creates a new legal framework for the sale of water and other public services, although it allows countries to “opt-out” of the public services of their choosing. (Nicaragua and Honduras have exempted water from CAFTA’s rules.)

In El Salvador, President Tony Saca chose no service exemptions, and thus opened the entire water sector to competition by international corporations. Under CAFTA, multi-national water companies must be given “national treatment”—though there is no obligation for corporations to sell water nationally. If a new concessions law is passed, as Saca and his friends at the IDB wish, multi-national water corporations could start hawking over El Salvador’s lavish supply with an eye toward more lucrative consumer markets.

According to Alejandra Castillo, with the Committee in Solidarity with the People of El Salvador (CISPES), water privatization combined with CAFTA’s new rules “will leave poor Salvadorans high and dry.”

CAFTA rules guarantee that a country cannot voluntarily reduce the export level of a good or service provided. Therefore, if El Salvador becomes a water exporter, CAFTA, not national policy makers, will decide whether water will flow in El Salvador’s homes or be sold internationally.

CAFTA also gives corporations the right to sue national and local governments if a company feels that its “right to profit” has been infringed. Laws ensuring that local populations be prioritized in the provisioning of water, as well as environmental laws guaranteeing water quality could be viewed as “barriers to trade.” In the case of NAFTA, the trade treaty CAFTA was modeled after, the threat of corporate lawsuits has often been enough to deter or overturn environmental legislation.

“If we take the electricity sector and telecommunications as guides, privatization has meant higher rates, lower quality, less access, and less sovereign control over our public services,” said Castillo. “CAFTA multiplies those effects, since it brings in the international heavy hitters and the rules they play by.”

Privatization Polemics

El Salvador’s recent past is peppered with privatization attempts that led to increases in prices, mass firings and, in some cases, massive popular resistance to defend access to public services. The sale of telecommunications sector and the attempt to privatize the parts of public healthcare system provide starkly contrasting outcomes.

In 1998, ANTEL, the former state-owned telephone company, was sold to France’s Telecom, which then sold it to Carlos “Hank” Slim’s America Mobil. (Slim is considered the Bill Gates of Mexico.) The privatization led to the layoff of 5,.000 workers, the loss of seniority, salary cuts and the dissolution of ASTEL, the ANTEL workers’ union.

ASTEL activists were targeted and fired. Three years passed before workers could overcome government obstacles and legally re-constitute a union, now known as SUTTEL. In the meantime, the rate for a home phone line shot up to $30 per month, second highest in Central America. (Costa Rica’s still-not-privatized phone company offers the region’s lowest rate at just under $11 monthly.)

Not all government attempts at privatization have gone to plan. In 2002, the nurses and doctors of the Salvadoran Social Security Hospital System (respectively the STISSS and SIMETRISSS) went on strike to oppose the implementation of a healthcare voucher system and the privatization of hospital janitorial services.

Tens of thousands took to the streets in “white marches” (named for hospital employees’ white scrubs) to defend Article 65 of the Salvadoran constitution, which guarantees universal healthcare for all. Resisting jail and constant repression, healthcare workers and protesters forced the government to retract its privatization proposal. Moreover, the Legislative Assembly passed the “State Guarantee of Health and Social Security,” scribed by activists to reinforce Article 65 and bury the healthcare privatization issue. Doctors and nurses fired for taking part in the strikes were ordered re-hired by the Supreme Court.

Resistance to water privatization has been common throughout Latin America since the World Bank and the IDB began quietly administering hydro-sector privatizations in the 1980s. But many nations are faced with the unenviable position of agreeing to water privatization by signing off on structural adjustment loans or being without the resources necessary to provide service in the first place. The movement to defend water in Cochabamba, Bolivia, in 2000 raised eyebrows because of its mass character, its pressure on the Bolivian state and its principled opposition to corporate control of water.

The Bolivian government granted Bechtel-subsidiary “Aguas del Tunari” a 40-year contract to run Cochabamba’s water system in 1999. The contract imposed fines for home rainwater collection and increased rates by 100 percent. The increase meant that many families were spending one-fifth of their monthly incomes on potable water. In January 2000, a four-day strike against the Aguas de Tunari contract froze the city. Negotiations between movement leaders and city officials went nowhere. The government sent 1,000 soldiers and imposed Martial Law. Protests of any kind were explicitly banned.

Despite the repression, the anti-privatization movement only gained strength. Ensuing protests resulted in 200 people injured, and one dead. When the government desperately negotiated a rate rollback with Aguas de Tunari, movement leaders didn’t budge. By April 2000, tens of thousands of Cochabamba residents were regularly participating in anti-privatization actions. Finally, the government nullified the contract and created a new publicly elected water commission.

As in Bolivia, mass movements in Honduras, Nicaragua, and Costa Rica have significantly stalled or stopped plans to decentralize national water agencies. All three countries, however, have initiated co-investment “pilot projects” allowing private investment in some cities.

Historic memory of Latin American resistance to privatization is not lost on Salvadoran officials as they continue their march to decentralize ANDA and implement co-investment.

In Nov. 2005 a forum was held on Water Management at the San Salvador Sheraton Hotel. A government water technician dutifully explained, “Co-investment is not the same as privatization. We’re not talking about a Cochabamba here.”

Activists in the audience roared, but the declaration revealed the government’s cognizance of recent history: officials here have tweaked their strategy and they’re hoping no one notices.

Meanwhile, residents like Azucena in San Martin continue to suffer the effects of an under-funded public water system held hostage by the drive to privatize.

“They charge me about $7 per month, but water only comes every three days,” she says. “I don’t know who is responsible, but service should be better.”

From his humble office in the shadow of ANDA’s formidable block-long complex, Oscar Carpio of SETA squares himself in a creaky, worn-out office chair.

“When they privatized other services in El Salvador, collective contracts were torn up and the unions were declared illegal. Some workers weren’t prepared for what hit them,” said Caprio. “We will be.”

——

This story originally appeared in Upside Down World, Feb. 22
http://upsidedownworld.org/main/content/view/205/1/

——————-

Reprinted by WORLD WAR 4 REPORT, March 1, 2006
Reprinting permissible with attribution

Continue ReadingWATER PRIVATIZATION FOR EL SALVADOR? 

THE NEW BOLIVIAN EXPERIENCE

Grassroots Activists Take Reins of Government

by Gretchen Gordon

The newly elected Bolivian president, Evo Morales, recently swore in the 16 ministers who will form his new government cabinet. For the first time in Bolivia’s 180-year history as an independent nation, the majority of those who now fill the highest governmental posts come from within indigenous and social movements.

During last year’s elections, one of the most common criticisms against Morales, an Aymara Indian who never studied past high school, was that, in contrast to his closest opponent, US-educated former president Jorge Quiroga, Morales lacked the experience and education befitting a presidential candidate. Now, as Morales formulates his government and begins the work of governing, criticisms of “inexperience” have resurfaced.

The Economist recently accused Morales’ cabinet choices of smacking of “radicalism,” stating that Bolivia’s new ministers “nearly all have as little experience of government as Mr. Morales…” (Jan. 26)

The perceived “inexperience” of Morales’ government, however, has a unique political significance here in the poorest and most indigenous country in South America, where positions of power have historically been reserved for a minority light-skinned criollo elite.

December’s stunning election victory for Morales is part of a larger political shift in the country, creating a new reality in which previously marginalized campesino, labor, indigenous, and other social movements are now finding themselves in power.

A “Cabinet of Change”

In the swearing-in ceremony for what Morales has dubbed his “cabinet of change,” Casimira Rodriguez takes the oath before a crowd of cameras. With two thick braids trailing down her back, Rodriguez stands in the shawl, lace shirt, and wide pleated skirt called a pollera, which since the 18th century have made up the traditional dress of indigenous women in much of Bolivia.

Rodriguez is Bolivia’s first Quechua Indian to serve as a government minister. Her experience, not just her appearance, is uniquely different from those who have stood here before her.

When Rodriguez was 14, she was taken from her rural village in Mizque and brought to the city of Cochabamba, with the promise that in exchange for her labor, she would be provided with the schooling and care her campesino parents could not afford. Instead, Rodríguez was held in servitude—forced to work long hours with no pay and regularly abused by her supposed employers—until she was finally rescued two years later.

RodrĂ­guez’s experience is unfortunately not an uncommon one for many women in Bolivia, where historic racial and economic discrimination remains strong. Domestic work is almost exclusively relegated to Quechua and Aymara women forced for economic reasons to migrate from rural to urban areas.

Now, however, at just 39 years-old, Casimira RodrĂ­guez is now Bolivia’s new Minister of Justice.

Breaking with History

The presence of people like Minister Rodriguez in Bolivia’s new government reflects the country’s recent political history. Spurred by 20 years of failed free-market policies (called neo-liberalism here), which have exacerbated economic and political discrimination, Morales’ campaign rode a wave of popular demand for profound structural changes, including nationalization of the country’s gas reserves and a restructuring of the state.

When it comes to creating a new government of Bolivians and for Bolivians, however, the territory is largely uncharted. Bolivia has a long history of governments which haven’t governed for the majority of Bolivians. It also has a history of governments which in many areas, didn’t govern at all.

Since colonial times, administration and policymaking in Bolivia has often been ceded to foreign interests. With the advent of the Washington Consensus neo-liberal economic model, those interests have taken a different shape over the last 20 years. Transnational petroleum corporations were handed Bolivia’s gas reserves on easy terms and now operate with almost no regulation. International financial institutions such as the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund rewrote entire areas of Bolivian law to facilitate the privatization of the country’s strategic state industries. The US Embassy directs the priorities of Bolivia’s military forces and helped write the country’s expansive drug law, imposing the concept of guilty until proven innocent for those accused of drug-related crimes.

The impact of this 20-year cession of governance to foreign economic interests is clear. The Chilean company that bought the national railroad sold it for scrap. The US and French companies that took over municipal water systems in Cochabamba and La Paz raised water rates up to 200%. US-crafted drug policy has facilitated gross human rights violations by the military, in addition to the incarceration of 40% of those in Bolivia’s jails, the majority of whom have never been charged. While a handful of businessmen and politicians have enriched themselves, Bolivia as a whole has higher unemployment and a lower standard of living than 20 years before. The government income once generated by state industries now must be borrowed from international lenders, and the country’s resultant national debt is over a crippling $4.5 billion.

The promises of foreign-imposed economic and political policies have proven to be far removed from the reality experienced by the majority of Bolivians. In response, citizens have taken to the streets in repeated mass protests over the past three years. Hundreds of civilians have been killed or wounded by subsequent government violence, and two successive presidents have been removed from office.

What the country has called for, across class and ethnic lines, is a major change—a government of Bolivians, for Bolivians—what Morales calls “the nationalization of the government.”

The Challenge

The challenge before Bolivia’s new government is by no means a small one. The task of implementing profound structural changes and attempting to step outside of current global economic norms, in what remains a greatly divided and highly indebted country, will not be easy.

But, ironically, Bolivia’s new “inexperienced” government has a few things in its favor.

Elected with an almost 2-1 majority—the first majority popular vote and the highest voter turnout in Bolivian history—Morales’ popular mandate for change is unprecedented. His outsider cabinet picks reflect that mandate, drawing their experience from within the social movements and affiliated academic circles which for decades have been struggling to create a more just economic and political system.

Andres Soliz Rada, the new Minister of Hydrocarbons is a lawyer, journalist, ex-parliamentarian and longtime nationalization advocate. Walter Villarroel, the new Minister of Mining, is a leader of a miners’ cooperative. Nila Heredia, the new Minister of Health, is a longtime public health worker and social advocate exiled by the Banzer dictatorship in the ’70s. Abel Mamani, the new Minister of Water, led efforts in 2004 to reverse the privatization of La Paz’s water system. Justice Minister Rodriguez was elected secretary general of the Confederation of Women Domestic Workers of Latin America and the Caribbean, and was responsible for the creation and adoption of national legislation which for the first time afforded rights to Bolivia’s over 132,000 domestic workers.

As Morales stands before his new cabinet in his now famous attire of a striped sweater, in lieu of the western-style business suit of his predecessors, he describes the mandate of the new government. “This is the first cabinet of change, chosen to fulfill changes in democracy against the neo-liberal model, and to resolve the structural and social problems in the
country.”

Can it Work?

On inauguration day in a hotel bar in La Paz, bartender David Garzon listens to Morales’ first national address as president. He gaffs, both pleased and shocked as Morales announces a 50% pay cut for the presidency and urges congress to implement the same.

I ask him what he thinks of the new president’s discourse. “It’s great,” he says emphatically, “better than other past presidents.”

When asked why, he replies, “He’s suffered and so he understands the country.”

In the short weeks since the election, Morales has used his victory shrewdly. Even before taking office, Morales embarked on an four-continent tour yielding various agreements of international support, including debt forgiveness from Spain, literacy programs from Cuba, commercial agreements with China, technical assistance on oil and gas development from Brazil, and a soy for diesel agreement with Venezuela.

A recent public opinion poll by Apoyo Opinion y Mercado indicates that Morales’ post-election popularity has increased to 74%.

I ask Garzon if he thinks Morales and his government, with their limited experience, can succeed in making the profound changes the country is expecting.

“Yes,” he says. “He can because he has the backing of the people.”

As Rodriguez explains it, “To administer justice well you don’t need to be a lawyer.”

Of course, Bolivia’s new government isn’t immune from criticism. Even some social movements have protested ministers’ political stances. Bolivia’s new government has been and will continue to be challenged on its politics and strategies and, in the end, whether it is able and willing to deliver on what it has promised.

Morales’ decision to choose a government that doesn’t look like past governments, however, is intentional and strategic. For the first time, the government looks like the people. And in Bolivia, where the state has suffered a growing crisis of legitimacy, this credibility of a popular government carries more weight than mere technical credentials.

For many Bolivians, seeing on television the image of Casimira Rodriguez, an ex-domestic worker in her braids and pollera, being sworn in as a government minister, is like seeing themselves.

In a country where the vast majority has historically lived in exclusion and oppression, that is an entirely new experience.

It may just be the experience Bolivia needs.

——

Gretchen Gordon is a writer on Latin America and globalization. She lives in Cochabamba, Bolivia and can be reached at Graciela@riseup.net

This story originally appeared in Upside Down World, Feb. 21
http://upsidedownworld.org/main/content/view/210/1/

See also our last feature on Bolivia:
“Bolivia: A Coming Trial by Fire?” by Ben Dangl, WW4 REPORT #118
/node/1532

——————-

Reprinted by WORLD WAR 4 REPORT, March 1, 2006
Reprinting permissible with attribution

Continue ReadingTHE NEW BOLIVIAN EXPERIENCE 

CAFTA’S ASSUALT ON DEMOCRACY

The New Corporate Agenda for Central America

by Tom Ricker and Burke Stansbury

What does tightening intellectual property laws have to do with “free” trade? That’s the question many people in Central American and the Dominican Republic are asking as the United States trade representative continues to insist on dramatic changes to constitutional laws in the six countries involved in the US-Central America-Dominican Republic Free Trade Agreement (otherwise known as CAFTA).

As if the agreement itself weren’t bad enough for the region—critics say CAFTA will hurt small farmers, worsen workers rights, and lead to environmental degradation, among other negative effects—the US is manipulating the implementation process to demand even further concessions by the six countries involved.

January 1, 2006 marked the date that the Bush Administration set for CAFTA implementation. However, progress has been frustrated due to US insistence on significant constitutional reforms in the CAFTA countries. CAFTA approval in the US Congress is sited by the Bush administration as one of its few legislative successes of 2005, despite the fact that the two-vote margin was the closest ever for such an agreement. In fact, the flawed implementation process lumps CAFTA in a series of administration failures on trade which include stalled negotiations towards the Free Trade Area of the Americas (FTAA) and the Doha round of the WTO.

One country has achieved the reforms necessary for implementation: El Salvador. But much like El Salvador’s turbulent ratification of the agreement—which occurred at 3:00 in the morning in an assembly surrounded by riot police—the process has been fraught with problems. In December the National Assembly rammed through 14 constitutional changes without any substantial debate, leading to the eruption of massive protests by informal-sector market vendors a few weeks later. The reforms will impose fines and even jail time for those who sell and purchase pirated goods, thereby destroying the livelihood of many poor Salvadorans who depend on the informal economy.

The Salvadoran executive introduced the CAFTA reforms just two days prior to the vote, prompting legislators from the largest opposition Farabundo Marti National Liberation Front (FMLN) to abstain from the vote and walk out of the Assembly session. Said Salvador Arias, a leading economist and deputy for the FMLN, “The right is giving our national legislation a coup de grace by putting it completely at the service of transnational corporations’ commercial interests, to the detriment of the common good.”

The Bush administration continues to demand that intellectual property rights protections be tightened in the other CAFTA countries before they can be certified to join the agreement. The US government is criticizing Guatemala’s pending intellectual property law for not being strict enough, using CAFTA implementation to pressure for tighter restrictions on drug patents—benefiting pharmaceutical corporations but certainly not poor people in need of affordable drugs. It’s no wonder that in Guatemala 20,000 protestors demonstrated against the National Assembly’s vote in favor of CAFTA last March.

Despite such popular opposition, the Central American governments continue to promote CAFTA as the great savior of the Central American people, bringing jobs, investment and opportunities for all. But resistance to CAFTA in the region continues to grow, and polls show that Central Americans believe that CAFTA will not improve their economic situation.

Perhaps more embarrassing for the Bush administration is that Costa Rica, representing one of the largest economies in the region, has yet to vote on CAFTA. Opposition has been fierce and is growing stronger. The new US ambassador in Costa Rica recently criticized that country for not having moved forward on CAFTA, and threatened that it could lose its textile export benefits under the Caribbean Basin Initiative (CBI) if it fails to approve the trade deal.

Similarly, in September 2005 under Secretary of State Robert Zoellick was sent to Nicaragua to threaten cuts in development aid should that country not pass the accord. CAFTA was introduced, “debated,” and voted on in one afternoon the week following Zoellick’s visit. Indeed, such threats have been the norm throughout the CAFTA negotiation, ratification, and implementation process.

Meanwhile, legal challenges have accompanied popular mobilization in the region. In Nicaragua, the National Workers Front (FNT) challenged CAFTA implementation before the Supreme Court, identifying 15 specific requirements of CAFTA that contravene the country’s constitution, including the provision granting transnational corporations special legal rights to seek monetary damages in response to regulatory efforts. Court battles are also pending in El Salvador.

Organizations from throughout Central America recently met in Costa Rica for the Sixth Mesoamerican Forum where they pledged to continue fighting CAFTA by monitoring its negative effects in the region and by mobilizing in the streets. In the US, the Stop CAFTA Coalition organized coordinated, local anti-CAFTA actions in January to denounce the likely effects of the agreement in Central America and to hold accountable representatives and senators who voted in favor of CAFTA last July. The actions also celebrated the continued resistance in Central America to “free” trade, privatization, and US economic domination.

——

Tom Ricker is co-director of the Quixote Center‘s Quest for Peace Program. Burke Stansbury is Executive Director for the Committee in Solidarity with the People of El Salvador (CISPES). Both organizations are founding members of the Stop CAFTA Coalition.

This story originally appeared in Upside Down World, Jan. 31 http://upsidedownworld.org/main/content/view/179/1/

——————-

Reprinted by WORLD WAR 4 REPORT, March 1, 2006
Reprinting permissible with attribution

Continue ReadingCAFTA’S ASSUALT ON DEMOCRACY 

“OPERATION GREEN COLOMBIA”

Coca Eradication Brings War to Endangered National Parks

by Memo Montevino

Last June, following months of political contest between the administration of President Alvaro Uribe and environmentalists, Colombia’s government announced that the aerial spraying of glyphosate to wipe out coca crops would be extended to the country’s national parks. Claiming 11 of Colombia’s 49 national parks had been invaded by cocaleros, Uribe named three parks slated for imminent fumigation: Sierra Nevada de Santa Maria, a northern snow-capped peak which is a UN-recognized biosphere reserve; and two in the lush cloud-forests where the eastern Andean slopes fall towards the Amazon basin. This cloud forest belt is the most biodiverse zone of Colombia, and among the most conflicted. These two parks—Cataumbo, in Norte de Santander department, and La Macarena in Meta—are both in areas hotly contested by Colombia’s military and guerillas of the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC).

The fumigation was held up as Colombian environmentalists challenged the spray order before administrative courts and petitioned the US Congress—which funds the spraying program—to intervene. In December, Uribe made a new announcement: that he would order manual eradication of coca crops in the parks as a compromise measure. A thousand-strong work force was sent into La Macarena to uproot the illicit crops. The military and National Police would oversee the program, which was dubbed, with a keen eye to public relations, “Operation Green Colombia.”

“We are going to recuperate for the country [La Macarena] nature park, an area that unfortunately has been harmed mercilessly by illicit crops,” Gen. Jorge Daniel Castro, director of the National Police, told the press.

But the reality has proved considerably less than “green.” On Feb. 6, six National Police agents, part of the contingent sent in to protect the eradication team, were killed in an attack by FARC guerillas in La Macarena. Another six were killed in a FARC mortar strike Feb. 15. At least one of the workers, who make about $12 a day, was injured in the crossfire between the guerillas and security forces, leading the majority of the team to quit because of the danger.

Uribe responded by ordering air strikes on the national park. The park would be evacuated before the strikes were ordered, Uribe told Colombia’s RCN TV from Washington, where he was negotiating a free-trade deal with United States. “It seems we need to be more aggressive in terms of bombing the areas within the park where the guerrillas are located,” Uribe said.

Air Force planes struck positions within the park Feb. 16. “In those areas where guerilla concentrations have been identified or in those places where military targets have been identified, we will proceed with all the istruments that are available to the public forces to neutralize them,” Defense Minister Camilo Ospina told Bogota’s El Tiempo.

Uribe said four areas identified as FARC bases within the park were targeted, but the military could not confirm that any guerillas had been killed. “This has not been an indiscriminate attack,” Ospina told El Tiempo Feb. 17. “The bombardment caused no damage beyond that needed to neutralize some points.”

The force backing up the eradication team consisted of 2,000 army troops and 1,500 members of the National Police. Since the fighting, just a third of the original 1,000 workers are left to tackle the task of clearing La Macarena of an estimated 4,600 hectares of coca. Uribe insisted he remains committed to the operation, while backing away from the original goal of completing the eradication by April.

The distinction between the eradication and anti-guerilla campaign is almost completely disappearing. Uribe chose La Macarena as the first park to be targeted by “Colombia Verde” after a FARC attack on an army detachment just outside the park left 29 troops dead.

“We cannot pretend that eliminating the checkbook of the guerilla will be an easy process,” Ospina told El Tiempo Feb. 16. “The process in La Macarena consist of the eradication of coca in one of the zones of the world with the greatest cultivations, which represents the most important source of financing for subversive groups, specifically the FARC.”

Journalist Yadira Ferrer, writing for Inter-Press Service just before the air strikes on the national park, spoke to some of the Colombian environmentalists who opposed the “Colombia Verde” program.

“The manual eradication in La Macarena may represent progress as a technique,” said Ricardo Vargas, Colombian coordinator in Colombia for AcciĂłn Andina, a group that monitors issues around drug trafficking in the region. “However, it doesn’t replace the government’s erroneous policy, which is to try to get rid of the drug trafficking problem by going after the weakest link: the peasant farmer who feels obligated to grow coca in order to survive.”

“If the government doesn’t directly attack the sources of financing for drug trafficking, those groups will continue to shift to other areas, as they have been doing for years,” he added.

La Macarena was declared a national park in 1989 and declared a “heritage of humanity” site by the UN Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO). Some 2,500 families of colonos—settlers—are thought to be living within its 630,000 hectares. Most arrived over the past two generations, before it was declared a national park. However, settlement of the park has increased in recent years as the coca economy in the region has exploded. “Colombia Verde” calls for the forced removal of these settlers from the park, although details of how this will be carried out or where they will be resettled have not been revealed.

Vargas charged that Colombian government has never carried out “a serious state policy” for the country’s national parks. He insisted that means of livelihood must be provided for any settlers relocated from La Macarena, and that the eradication be accompanied by a broader development plan drawn up with input from the impacted communities.

According to Colombia’s Integrated System for Monitoring Illicit Crops (SIMCI), in 2004 there were 5,364 hectares of coca planted in 13 of the nation’s parks, equivalent to 0.05 percent of the country’s total protected area and 7.0 percent of the total area cultivated with illegal crops. Protected areas in total cover 10 million hectares—10 percent of national territory. The government’s goal is to eradicate 40,000 hectares of illegal drug crops in 2006.

SOURCES:

“Colombian rebels kill six coca eradication police,” Reuters, Feb. 16:
http://www.alertnet.org/thenews/newsdesk/N15347957.htm

“Colombian Rebels Kill Six Police Guards,” AP, Feb. 15:
http://www.forbes.com/entrepreneurs/feeds/ap/2006/02/15/ap2530658.html

“Colombia to bomb FARC guerrillas,” BBC, Feb. 16: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/4719460.stm

“El Estado llegĂł a La Macarena para quedarse: Ministro de Defensa,”
El Tiempo, Bogota, Feb. 16
http://eltiempo.terra.com.co/coar/ACC_MILITARES/

“Fuerza AĂŠrea lanzĂł cuatro bombardeos sobre ĂĄreas de La Macarena,”
El Tiempo, Bogota, Feb. 17
http://eltiempo.terra.com.co/coar/ACC_MILITARES/

“The Difficult Rescue of La Macarena,” by Yadira Ferrer, IPS, Feb. 9:
http://www.ipsnews.net/news.asp?idnews=32106

See also “Colombia: Chemical Warfare Expands,” WW4 REPORT #110 /node/566

——————-

Special to WORLD WAR 4 REPORT, March 1, 2006
Reprinting permissible with attribution

Continue Reading“OPERATION GREEN COLOMBIA” 

COLOMBIA: MILITARY TERROR IN CAUCA, ARAUCA, LA GUAJIRA

from Weekly News Update on the Americas

CAUCA: ARMY KILLS CIVILIANS

On Jan. 8, Colombian army troops from the No. 26 Cacique Piguanza Infantry Battalion, headed by Lt. Hoyos, shot to death 17-year-old Hortensia Neyid Tunja Cuchumbe and Manuel Antonio Tao Pillimue and wounded William Jose Cunacue Medina in Inza municipality, in the southern department of Cauca. On the night of Jan. 7 Tunja left her home in the community of San Antonio, accompanied by Cunacue, to attend a party in the nearby community of Belen. At 4 AM Tunja’s mother was informed by neighbors that her daughter was wounded on the road about 100 meters from Belen. When the mother arrived, she found her daughter dead, lying face down on the side of the road with bullet holes in her body. Uniformed and hooded soldiers threatened Tunja’s mother and told her that her daughter was a leftist rebel who had been killed along with a rebel “commander.” The soldiers then forced the mother to leave her daughter’s body at the site and go to Belen; they claimed they were waiting for officials from the attorney general’s office to come to the site to officially record the deaths.

The soldiers then blocked anyone from leaving Belen and attacked and beat a number of people at the party there; several people were injured, including one who was hit in the head with a rifle butt. When family members of Tunja and Tao tried to return to the site where their bodies lay, the soldiers fired their rifles in the air to force them to retreat. Around 6 AM, Tunja’s mother managed to return to the site and found the soldiers still there but her daughter’s body gone. She was told that the corpses had been taken to the town of La Plata in Huila department, where the attorney general’s office would file the report on them. Under Colombian law, only the attorney general’s office is allowed to move cadavers from the location where they are found; the army’s removal of the bodies from the site was in blatant violation of the law.

As Tunja’s mother and other family members headed toward La Plata, they found Tunja’s and Tao’s bodies covered up and dumped on the side of the highway about 30 minutes from Belen in the village of Puerto Valencia. Army troops at the site forced the family members to leave the area after telling them that the bodies would be left there for the attorney general’s office to deal with. The army then took the bodies to the military base in La Plata, where they were handed over to the families around 4 PM on Jan. 8. The family members took the bodies to the local hospital. There soldiers again intimidated the family members.

Tunja was a domestic worker who had been employed in Bogota since April 2005; she had been on vacation visiting her family in San Antonio since Dec. 27. Tao Pillimue was a young campesino who lived in the community of San Isidro in Inza municipality; he had left his home on Jan. 7 to go to the party in Belen. Tunja and Tao were members of the Campesino Association of Inza -Tierradentro (ACIT). William Jose Cunacue Medina suffered several bullet wounds and was taken to the hospital in La Plata, where army troops detained him and accused him of “rebellion.” Community members insist that none of the three youths were members of any armed organization; they say the army falsified evidence, planting weapons on the corpses and claiming the victims were guerrillas. (ACIT Communique, Jan. 11)

LA GUAJIRA: WIWA INDIGENOUS LEADERS MURDERED

On Jan. 3, Colombian army troops from the Rondon de Buenavista Group came to the indigenous Wiwa community of Seminke, in the area of San Juan del Cesar and Riohacha municipalities in the northeastern department of La Guajira. They took away community members Celso Carrillo Perea and Ricardo Arias Solis; the next day shots and explosions were heard at a distance from where the two were seized. The decomposed bodies of the two men were found in Riohacha on Jan. 5. In a joint communique, the Yugumaiun Bunkuanarrua Tayrona Wiwa Organization (OWYBT) of San Juan del Cesar, the Kogui-Malayo-Arhuaco Reserve in the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta and Prensa Indigena correspondent Guillermo Riguera indicated that Carrillo and Arias had no links to armed groups and were just campesinos engaged in agriculture to support their families. Their families were linked to an International Red Cross project in the community.

Last Dec. 9, troops from the Rondon de Buenavista Group arrived in the Wiwa community of Ulago and took resident Laudelino Mejia Montano from his home; the next day shots, explosions and a helicopter were heard nearby, and Mejia was subsequently found murdered.

The Wiwa communities are concerned because a number of residents and community leaders have been accused of being rebels or rebel sympathizers; those who are detained often turn up dead, presented as rebels killed in combat.

On Jan. 9 two individuals on a motorcycle assassinated Fernando Montano Armenta, a resident of the Wiwa indigenous community of La Pena de los Indios. He was murdered in San Juan del Cesar municipality. The community does not know which armed group is responsible for his murder. (Prensa Indigena, Jan. 3; Adital, Feb. 3)

Weekly News Update on the Americas, Feb. 5

ARAUCA: COMMUNITY LEADER MURDERED

On Feb. 4, community leader Alirio Sepulveda Jaimes was shot to death in Saravena municipality in the eastern Colombian department of Arauca, just a block and a half from an outpost of the National Police. The Departmental Association of Campesinos (ADUC) reports that Sepulveda was murdered by hired killer Edgar Guiza Gamboa, who permanently accompanies the National Army’s “Gabriel Reveis Pizarro de Saravena” Mechanized Cavalry Group No. 18, commanded by Lt. Col. Carlos Vicente Prada Garces. (ADUC, Feb. 10 via Colombia Indymedia) Prada Garces, whose first name was given in some sources as Jose Vicente, is likely the same person listed in the US Army School of the Americas (SOA) graduate list as Carlos Vicente Prado Garces; as a cadet he took SOA’s C-3 Arms Orientation Course for Cadets in January 1984, when the school was still in Panama. (SOA Graduates List)

Sepulveda’s body was picked up by several individuals on motorcycles whom witnesses recognized as members of the National Army’s S2 military intelligence unit, dressed in civilian clothing. After the killing, witnesses say Guiza went to a local shopping center where he drank alcoholic beverages and threatened passersby with the same gun he had used to shoot Sepulveda. According to ADUC, Guiza claims to be the commander of the Saravena paramilitaries.

Sepulveda was detained on Nov. 12, 2002 with 42 other Arauca community leaders, based on allegations by former rebels who were allowed to demobilize if they accused others. Sepulveda was freed for lack of evidence, but he continued to suffer constant threats and harassment; the army claimed he was a member of the National Liberation Army (ELN). (ADUC, Feb. 2 via Colombia Indymedia)

Weekly News Update on the Americas, Feb. 20

——

Weekly News Update on the Americas
http://home.earthlink.net/~nicadlw/wnuhome.html

See also WW4 REPORT #118
http://www.ww3report.com/node/1536

“Colombia’s army chief sacked in brutal hazing ritual” WW4 REPORT, Feb. 27
/node/1652

——————-

Reprinted by WORLD WAR 4 REPORT, March 1, 2006
Reprinting permissible with attribution

Continue ReadingCOLOMBIA: MILITARY TERROR IN CAUCA, ARAUCA, LA GUAJIRA 

FROM BAGHDAD TO TOKYO

Japanese Anti-War Movement Hosts Iraqi Civil Resistance

by Bill Weinberg

Japan is one of the minor members of Bush’s “coalition of the willing” in terms of troop commitment, but the Asian superpower’s anti-war movement has made more progress than any other in the world in establishing direct links of human solidarity with the civil resistance in Iraq—groups of the embattled secular left which oppose the US-led occupation and the Islamist insurgents alike.

Over the weekend of January 28-9, Japan’s Movement for Democratic Socialism hosted a meeting dubbed, with greater comprehension than concision, “The International Conference Aiming at the Complete Withdrawal of All the Occupation Forces and Reconstruction of Democratic Iraq in Solidarity with the Iraqi Freedom Congress.” The event, held at a Tokyo conference hall followed by a day of speeches and presentations at a Yokohama convention center, brought together some 500—mostly Japanese, but also including small delegations from the United States, France, the Philippines, Indonesia and South Korea. Front and center was a delegation of five—including a girl of nine named Sanaria—from Iraq, representing a political alliance that stands for inter-ethnic solidarity against the occupation, and resisting the trajectory towards civil war.

Report from the Autonomous Zones

The Iraqi Freedom Congress (IFC) is a new coalition, founded just a year ago, bringing together labor unions, student groups, women’s rights organizations and neighborhood assemblies to defend civil society against the occupation troops and profusion of armed factions in Iraq. The IFC is working to establish a parallel structure to that of the US-backed regime and armed militias linked to ethnic and religious groups. Its working model for this program is a neighborhood in Kirkuk, which the IFC has established as an autonomous zone, dubbed Al-Tzaman (Solidarity).

“Anybody can live in this area,” IFC president Samir Adil said of Al-Tzaman, speaking to a group of international activists at the Tokyo conference hall. “This is a humanity area—nobody has the right to ask you your religion or ethnic identity.”

The neighborhood of some 5,000 has a mixed population of Sunni Arabs, Christians, Turcomans, and Kurds, and has been an IFC autonomous zone for a year. In a city starkly divided by vying ethnic factions, it has become a haven for peaceful co-existence. The IFC re-named the neighborhood “Solidarity” from its Saddam-era militarist appellation of Asraiwal Mafkodein—”Prisoners of War and Missing,” a tribute to conscripts lost in the war with Iran.

“There is no government in Iraq—the government is only within the Green Zone,” Adil says, explaining the proliferation of ethnic and religious militias. “If you give security they support you.” Adil admits the IFC has established armed checkpoints in Al-Tzaman to prevent infiltration by militia and insurgent groups at night. He claims a local presence by the al-Zarqawi network has been cleared out by the IFC’s efforts. Adil says the IFC is now seeking to establish a second autonomous zone in the Baghdad neighborhood of Husseinia—and is in a contest with the Shiite Badr militia, which has a presence there.

“Every household in Iraq is armed now,” Adil says. “Iraqi society is a jungle society—you have to have a gun to defend your family.” Despite this reality, he emphasizes that the IFC is seeking to build a civil resistance to the occupation—not an armed insurgency. “Civilian people are paying the price for the armed resistance, so we believe it is a bad tactic,” he says. “But we are mobilizing the people to protect themselves.”

In addition to Kirkuk and Baghdad, Adil says the IFC has a significant presence in Basra in the south and in the northern Kurdish-controlled zone.

“Iraq has become an international battleground,” Adil says. “Every terrorist group and every terrorist state wants to exploit the situation in Iraq—Iran, Sunni political Islam backed by Saudi Arabia and Pakistan, the US. And every faction has its own media. The pro-American and Islamist groups all have their own satellite TV stations.”

Which brings Adil to the IFC’s special agenda for the Tokyo conference—to raise international funds for the IFC’s own satellite station. Adil says the US-backed politician Iyad Allawi controls two satellite stations (including the US-funded Iraqi network), while Shiite factions have three (including the Iranian state network), and four more are voices for Sunni “political Islam.” Adil includes Qatar’s Al-Jazeera among these last four.

“If we get sat TV we can bring many hundreds of thousands into our movement and bring about a big change in the next six months,” Adil says. He also believes this project could change the general climate of the Middle East, where Adil says secular left perspectives have no media voice.

Adil, like many of the IFC leaders, is a veteran of political struggle against the Saddam Hussein dictatorship and a follower of the Worker-Communist Party of Iraq, founded after Operation Desert Storm to oppose both the regime and US imperialist designs on the Persian Gulf region. Born in Baghdad in 1964, he was imprisoned for six months in 1992 for labor activities in the construction trade. He was tortured in prison—he never removes his cap, but a long scar can be seen extending down his scalp to his temple. Supporters in Canada launched an international campaign which finally won his release. Realizing he was no longer safe in Saddam’s Iraq, he fled first to the Kurdish zone, then Turkey, and finally Canada. He returned to Iraq in December 2005 to help revive an independent political opposition.

If post-Saddam Iraq affords the possibility of building a new political movement, the new ethnic and religious polarization makes that movement more essential than ever, Adil says. To illustrate how the atmosphere has changed, Adil, who was born into a Shiite family, says he only became aware that his wife was born into a Sunni one when they discussed returning to Iraq together and realized their “mixed” marriage could become an issue. His wife chose to remain in Canada.

The IFC brings together several organizations, including the Federation of Worker Councils and Unions in Iraq (FWCUI), one of the major post-Saddam labor alliances, and its affiliated Union of the Unemployed in Iraq, which demands jobs and benefits for the thousands thrown out of work in the chaos since the US invasion; the Organization of Women’s Freedom in Iraq (OWFI), which is fighting the sharia law measures in the new constitution; the Kurdistan Center for the Defense of Children’s Rights, and the Worker-Communist Party.

An incident which helped spark the IFC’s founding came on March 15, 2005, when a Christian female student was physically attacked by the Sadr militia at a campus picnic at Basra University, and a male student who came to her defense was shot and killed. Thousands of students marched in protest, a solidarity march was held by students in Sulaymaniyah, and the Sadr militia was driven from the campus. These struggles led to the establishment of the National Federation of Student Councils, another IFC member organization.

Also attending the Tokyo conference was Nada Muaid, vice president of the Organization of Women’s Freedom in Iraq, who described the group’s work—including volunteer medical teams, computer classes for women, and shelters in Baghdad and Kirkuk for women fleeing domestic violence or “honor killings.” Such cases of women being murdered by their own families for adultery or even for being raped have exploded since the US invasion, Muaid says. “Political Islam has pushed women back under this occupation.” And now basic services are in rapid decline because of the heightening insecurity. “NGOs are pulling out due to kidnappings just as needs are growing—water poor quality and unreliable, blackouts are frequent.”

So OWFI is organizing self-help projects for women; the group is now seeking to expand its medical teams into full health clinics.

It is similarly picking up the slack in documenting systematic violence against women as foreign human rights organizations are reducing their presence on the ground in Iraq—again, just as the need is growing. “Abuse and rape are routine in the Interior Ministry’s political prisons,” Muaid says. “We are monitoring the human rights situation, sending reports of abuses to Amnesty International. But it is too dangerous to bring foreign rights workers to the country. And the existing human rights groups in Iraq are politicized—either they are pro-US and only report abuses by insurgents, or pro-Islamist and only report abuses by the US.”

Azad Ahmed Abdullah of the Children’s Protection Center tells a similar story. The group was founded in 1999 in the Kurdish zone, and spread after fall of Saddam, to help children wounded or left homeless in the war, or addicted to drugs. It runs shelters in Baghdad and Kirkuk, and is establishing programs in Basra and Sulaymaniyah. The Tokyo conference featured an exhibit of art by Iraqi children from the Protection Center’s workshops—most of it, not surprisingly, on themes of war.

Abdullah sees the collapse of the economy and public services as fueling the growth of political Islam. “The public schools now demand payment that many families cannot afford,” he says, “Religious schools are filling the void. And political Islamic groups exploit children for suicide bombings.”

Sanaria, the young girl from Kirkuk who was part of the IFC delegation, recounted how friendships are torn apart in her school by the ethnic tensions, how she was ostracized by Turcoman and Arab classmates for speaking Kurdish.

The fifth member of the Iraqi delegation was Ali Abbas Khafeef, who is Basra leader of both the Freedom Congress and the FWCUI. Like Samir Adil, he is a veteran of the Baathist prisons—only, after seven years in Iraqi prisons for labor activities, he was drafted and spent another 13 years in Iran as a prisoner of war.

Khafeef says the FWCUI is growing in Basra despite death threats and harassment against its leaders. It has organized strikes in the local transport and petrochemical sectors, and publishes the weekly newspaper Workers Council. Among its affiliates is the new Homeless Association, with 15,000 members in Basra. In defiance of threats, the FWCUI held a thousands-strong Mayday march through downtown Basra last year. Like OWFI’s Baghdad rally for International Women’s Day, this was a more powerful statement than many such marches around the world given the atmosphere of terror in Iraq.

Iraq Adventure Threatens Japanese Anti-Militarism

The Movement for Democratic Socialism (MDS) is one of several groups in Japan opposing their country’s involvement in Iraq, where Prime Minister Junichiro Koizumi has dispatched some 530 troops. These forces are ostensibly involved in reconstruction and other “noncombatant” activities, but there is growing talk on the Japanese right of a greater military role—and even abandoning Article 9 of the post-war constitution, in which Japan officially “forever renounce[s] war as a sovereign right of the nation.” Already, Japan has the world’s fourth highest military budget, after the US, Russia and China—despite Article 9’s stipulation that “land, sea, and air forces, as well as other war potential, will never be maintained.”

MDS activists are involved in a variety of causes, but all related to opposing the resurgence of Japanese militarism. MDS supports the Non-Defended Localities movement, an effort to move municipalities to reject the stationing of either Japanese or US military forces within their territory and to declare their non-cooperation with war—a right recognized by Article 59 of Additional Protocol I to the Geneva Conventions.

Members are also involved in the movements to win compensation for the victims of World War II-era forced labor under Japanese occupation in China, Korea and the Philippines, and their survivors. They actively oppose the US military presence in Japan, with a current key struggle the planned expansion of a US airbase onto a coral reef at Henoko, Okinawa, threatening critical dugong habitat. All the MDS campaigns are punctuated by cultural programs by the group’s music and dance company, which incorporates traditional drumming and martial arts moves.

MDS sees an historical irony in the fact that Article 9 was imposed by the US after World War II, and it is now Bush’s need for coalition partners in Iraq which is playing into the hands of Japan’s neo-militarists.

Founded in 2000, MDS emerged from a Marxist study group at Kyoto University, and is a current within one of Japan’s oldest anti-war organizations, Zenko. An acronym for “national assembly,” Zenko began life in the early ’70s as the National Assembly of Young Workers, one of several groups then opposing Japan’s role as a staging ground for the US war on Vietnam. It has today been renamed the National Assembly for Peace and Democracy—a fruit of the same post-Soviet re-evaluation that led to the establishment of MDS, which views lack of internal democracy as critical in the collapse of the socialist bloc.

With the start of the Iraq adventure, MDS helped organize a series of Tokyo public hearings for the International Criminal Tribunal on Iraq, and loaned support for Occupation Watch, a Baghdad-based group of international volunteers who monitor US military abuses. It was through this work that MDS became aware of the groups which now make up the IFC. Over the past two years, the MDS brought members of these groups to Japan to testify at the Tribunal and to participate in the annual Zenko conference. MDS also sent two delegations of Japanese activists to Iraq, where they were hosted by the civil resistance groups.

Says Mori Fumihiro, an MDS leader and co-chair of the Japanese Committee for Solidarity with Iraqi Civil Resistance: “We were impressed with their struggle as a humanitarian movement. They are involved in unarmed struggle against the occupation. They demand a secular and non-religious government as well as full equality between women and men. They call for the global anti-war movement to make solidarity with them… I believe that they are part of a global anti-war and anti-capitalism struggle and that international solidarity with them will strengthen our struggle.”

The MDS and Zenko conferences have helped build support for the Iraqi civil resistance groups internationally. The group SolidaritĂŠ Irak is now working to support the IFC in France, and its representative Nicolas Dessaux attended the January conference in Tokyo. Members of the US group United for Peace & Justice have also attended, and in a step towards international coordination between the US anti-war movement and Iraqi civil resistance, the IFC held marches coinciding with last year’s Sept. 24 mobilization against the war in Washington DC. The IFC marches against the occupation that day brought out 600 in Baghdad and 3,000 in Basra—again, numbers rendered more significant by the fact that street mobilizations in Iraq are now routinely attacked by either occupation troops, security forces or armed factions.

The decision to work in solidarity with the IFC came only after much disputation both within the MDS and with international anti-war organizations. Says Asai Kenji, editor of the MDS Weekly newsletter: “When OWFI head Yanar Mohammed came and attended the Zenko annual conference in 2004, there were heated debates on how we can or cannot support a specific grouping in Iraq opposed to the occupation.”

At the July 2004 34th Zenko conference, the most intransigent voices opposed to adopting solidarity with the Iraqi civil opposition in the meeting’s final resolution came from American and British delegations. MDS president Sato Kazuyoshi wrote up an evaluation of the debate after the conference—and explained why MDS finally rejected the criticisms:

“The most disputed point in the conference was about the slogan of solidarity with Iraqi Civil Resistance. Representatives of the ANSWER (‘Act Now to Stop War & End Racism’) Coalition in the U.S. and of the Stop the War Coalition in the U.K. expressed their view that ‘we can’t say from outside Iraq which of the anti-occupational resistance forces are right,’ and that ‘it is a matter to be left to the self-determination of the Iraqis, and the world anti-war movements have only to focus on bringing troops home.’ In response to this argument, representatives of the UUI (Union of the Unemployed in Iraq) and OWFI (Organization of Women’s Freedom in Iraq) emphatically protested and asked what is wrong with building solidarity with movements that are demanding the withdrawal of occupation forces, and aspiring to a free, egalitarian and secular Iraq…

“Presently, the Movement for Democratic Socialism (MDS) is right in the middle of the struggles against the war on Iraq, hoisting aloft the flag of solidarity with the Iraqi Civil Resistance… The tactics adopted by the Islamic armed forces, i.e. kidnapping, confinement, abduction, beheading, assassination, cannot be justified…for the sake of opposing U.S. imperialism. Their suicide bombings are killing more Iraqi civilians than U.S. soldiers. Discrimination and oppression against women cannot be justified. They are trying to confront the U.S. military, ignoring lives and human rights of the Iraqis. .. They are trying to materialize an Islamic dictatorship in Iraq, not a democracy. Iraqi people do not want the U.S. occupation forces to be replaced by a dictator…

“In the case of the Vietnam War, victory was achieved through combining armed struggle and global anti-war movements. However, the National Liberation Front and the army of the Democratic Republic of Vietnam did not direct their guns toward the civilian population. Nor did they commit suicide bombings… In the Vietnam War, the victory was achieved because they succeeded in mobilizing all anti-U.S. imperialist forces, regardless of religions and ethnicities…

“It should be a natural right for the OWFI to protest against Islamist groups that intimidate women who don’t wear a hijab (head scarf). It should also be a natural right for them to criticize the kidnapping of women in the name of resistance. How do these events relate to the interests of the U.S. imperialist occupation? What is wrong with women struggling for their own safety?”

The statement also outlined analytical differences between MDS and the Worker-Communist Party of Iraq—particularly concerning the significance of political Islam on the world stage. MDS considers the Worker-Communist Party’s juxtaposition of US imperialism and political Islam as “two poles of terrorism” an oversimplification that exaggerates the importance of the latter. The statement calls for “further examination” of this and related questions, while concluding: “We have to strengthen the Iraqi Civil Resistance, which is struggling to drive out the occupiers and to realize secularism and democracy in Iraq.”

Towards a Free, Secular Iraq

Even a month before the horrific bombing of the Golden Mosque at Samarra, Samir Adil warned that Iraq was sliding towards collapse of the government, and civil war. “More than a month after the elections, pro-occupation terrorist groups are still forming a government in secret deliberations,” he said. “This is not democracy, this is a sham. Social services, security—the elections didn’t solve anything, they just gave legitimacy to the same scenario. Ethnic and nationalist conflict is deepening day by day. The militias carry out disappearances, throw bodies in the desert every night.”

The room for civil political activities closes day by day. On Jan. 1, US forces opened fire on a demonstration against high oil prices in Kirkuk, killing four. Days later, two were killed in Nasiriyah when Iraqi security forces opened fire on a march against unemployment.

Adil says the IFC advocates complete non-collaboration with the Iraqi government as long as the country is occupied by foreign troops and as long as the new state is predicated on “dividing power and oil proceeds between the ethnic factions.” Instead he calls for “public accountability and visibility on administration of resource money for the benefit of the Iraqi people as a whole.”

While Arab nationalists call for officially defining Iraq as “part of Arab homeland” and Kurdish nationalist parties ultimately seek secession, Adil says the IFC sees Iraq as first and foremost “part of the world.” He says the IFC opposes federalism as a recipe for civil war and the permanent fracturing of the Iraqi state. He calls for an Iraqi state in which the citizen is not a member of an ethnic or religious group but “human first, human last and human always.”

Adil sees the Western press as complicit in Iraq’s slide towards civil war by failing to note the existence of the secular opposition, or even to recall Iraq’s tradition of secularism as an independent nation. “They define our society as reactionary, religious. Nobody is talking about our secular society.

Asked for a final message for readers in the Unites States, Adil says: “The US lost in Vietnam not because the US lost soldiers in Vietnam, but because they lost the support of the American people. But we don’t want the American people to just protest to bring the troops home, but to support the secular progressive forces in Iraq, to think about the Iraqi people. We do not want another Taliban regime or Islamic Republic in Iraq.”

RESOURCES:

Iraqi Freedom Congress
http://www.ifcongress.com

Movement for Democratic Socialism
http://www.mdsweb.jp

MDS Appeal for World Solidarity with the IFC
http://www.mdsweb.jp/international/i923/i923_01a.html

Sato Kazuyoshi statement on 2004 Zenko conference
http://www.mdsweb.jp/international/magazine/r56/i_r56t1.html

MDS page on Non-Defended Localities
http://www.mdsweb.jp/international/i886/i886_45b.html

International Criminal Tribunal for Iraq—Japan
http://www.icti-e.com/englishsite.html

Save the Dugong Campaign Center
http://www.sdcc.jp/

Zenko
http://www.zenko-peace.com

SolidaritĂŠ Irak
http://www.solidariteirak.org/

See also:

“Civil War in Iraq: Already Here?”
by Bill Weinberg,
WW4 REPORT, October 2005
/node/1151

——————-

Special to WORLD WAR 4 REPORT, March 1, 2006
Reprinting permissible with attribution

Continue ReadingFROM BAGHDAD TO TOKYO 

WAR AT THE CROSSROADS

An Historical Guide Through the Balkan Labyrinth

by Bill Weinberg and Dorie Wilsnack

The Balkan region is intensely multicultural—a point of crossroads and clash for some of the world’s major religions, cultural spheres, and economic systems. While there have been vicious wars in Balkan history, these have taken place in the context of manipulation by imperial powers and the self-serving local leaders who cater to them.

The Balkans as Theater of Imperial Rivalry
Among the earliest inhabitants of the Balkans were the Illyrians, ancestors of the Albanians, who arrived before the seventh century B.C.E. They eventually came under the domination of the Roman Empire. In the fourth century C.E., the declining empire was divided in two for reasons of administrative expediency. The Western Empire remained based in Rome, while the Eastern Empire was centered in Constantinople (today Istanbul) and became the Byzantine Empire. While the Western Empire crumbled, the Byzantines grew more powerful. The border between the two empires was drawn right through the Balkans—setting the stage for centuries of future conflict.

The Slavs moved into the region from the north in the fifth century C.E., with Slavic tribes developing into the nations of Serbia, Croatia, Bosnia, and Montenegro (united by the Serbo-Croatian language), and Slovenia and Macedonia. Under the feudal system, smaller regions within these nations maintained a certain autonomy—such as Dalmatia and Slavonia in Croatia, and Herzegovina in Bosnia.

The border between the ancient Eastern and Western Roman Empires corresponds almost precisely with that between present-day Serbia and Croatia. The power vacuum left by the decline of Rome allowed Croatia and Slovenia in the north and west to attain a degree of independence and sovereignty—though pressure from the Magyars in Hungary forced them into the influence sphere of Germanic powers like the Frankish empire of Charlemagne. The Serbs, however, came under Byzantine rule. The neighboring Bulgarian Empire, which included Macedonia, also eventually fell within the Byzantine sphere, as did Montenegro and much of the Dalmatian coast—although the port of Ragusa (today Dubrovnik), a center of trade with the Italian city-states, maintained its independence.

The two branches of the Roman Empire, of course, developed into the two great branches of Christianity. Hence, Slovenia and Croatia became Roman Catholic, while Serbia, Montenegro, and Macedonia became Eastern Orthodox. Both religions vied in Dalmatia and other contested regions. Bosnia, a remote and mountainous region between the two spheres, was never effectively under the control of either and developed a “heresy” with populist and anti-authoritarian overtones called Bogomilism, which the Catholic powers to the north and Orthodox powers to the south both did their best to exterminate.

Independent Croatia disappeared in 1102 C.E., when it was absorbed by Catholic Hungary. Bosnia also fell under Hungarian rule following a Rome-sanctioned crusade against the Bogomils in 1244, though it regained its independence in 1377. In 1190, as the Byzantine Empire began to lose its grip on the Balkans, Serbia emerged as an independent kingdom. At its most powerful, medieval Serbia included Macedonia and extended south to the Aegean coast.

In the fourteenth century the Byzantine Empire was in rapid decline, besieged by Turkish invasions from the east. The Turkish (and Islamic) Ottoman Empire established itself on the ruins of the Byzantine Empire and expanded into the Balkans. Following the decisive Battle of Kosovo in 1389, Serbia lost most of its territory to the Ottomans. A reduced Serbian kingdom survived along the Danube River to the north under Hungarian protection, but completely succumbed to the Ottomans in 1459. Belgrade, the city on the Danube which had been established as Serbia’s new capital, held out under direct Hungarian rule until it was finally taken by Ottoman emperor Suleiman the Magnificent in 1521.

The Ottomans had succeeded in winning the loyalty of Bosnian peasant Bogomils during their uprisings against Catholic Hungary. In 1463, Bosnia was annexed to the Ottoman Empire and most of the Bogomils converted to Islam. The Ottoman administrators favored Bosnia’s Muslim Slav majority with status and access to land. Those Bosnians who remained Catholic were considered ethnic Croats. Those who remained Orthodox identified themselves as Serbs.

While many Bosnian peasants had welcomed the Ottomans as liberators, the Serbs mourned their lost kingdom and were loathe to acknowledge Constantinople’s new rule.

Beginning in the sixteenth century, the Balkans became the scene of a great struggle between the Ottoman Empire and the Hapsburg monarchy in Austria. As the Austrian and Hungarian empires merged in the seventeenth century, Croatia and Slovenia came under the control of Vienna, while Serbia, Bosnia, and Macedonia remained under Turkish rule. The Austrians encouraged Serbs to migrate to Croatia to form a border militia and fight against their former Turkish masters. These Serbs established the Krajina, a semi-autonomous martial zone within Croatia.

The Ottomans invaded Austrian territory in 1683, but were driven back. Then, Austria invaded Ottoman territory in 1689 but was similarly driven back. Afterwards, local Serbs were accused of “collaboration” with the invader. Facing violent reprisals, many Serbs migrated from Kosovo, and this plateau which had been the heart of medieval Serbia became more the domain of ethnic Albanians. Pushed into the mountains by the Serbs centuries earlier, the Albanians were now favored by the Ottomans and many converted to Islam.

The Emergence of Nationalism
After the French Revolution, both nationalism and the idea of South Slav (Yugoslav) unity spread in the Balkans. Napoleon Bonaparte”s armies established the “Illyrian Provinces” in Dalmatia, formally abolishing feudalism there. Dalmatia was returned to Austrian rule after Napoleon’s defeat in 1815, but the ideological seeds of modernity had taken root.

A movement for Serbian independence emerged, which, despite violent repression by the Ottomans, succeeded in creating a semi-independent Serbian state by 1830. The following decades saw growing violence. The Turks attempted to crush nationalist movements in Macedonia and to take Montenegro, which maintained a precarious independence. Christian peasants revolted against the Ottomans in Bosnia, and were aided by Austria and Serbia. Bosnia was occupied by Austria in 1878 and formally annexed in 1908.

In 1912, Greece, Bulgaria, and Russia joined with Serbia in the First Balkan War to wrest Macedonia and Kosovo from the Turks. The Albanians in Macedonia and Kosovo suffered reprisals at the hands of the invading Serbian forces, including the burning of villages. Fearing annexation by Serbia and Greece, regional leaders in Albania declared their own independence. While the leadership of the Albanian independence movement was Muslim, Catholics and the Orthodox were also embraced by the nascent Albanian national identity. The Albanian national movement had actually first emerged in Kosovo, with the founding of the patriotic League of Prizren in 1878.

In 1913, the winners of the First Balkan War began fighting among themselves in a Second Balkan War. Russia and Greece were joined by Romania in backing Serbia’s struggle against Bulgaria for control of Macedonia. Serbia won control of both Macedonia and Kosovo.

The balance of power had shifted again. Serbian nationalists no longer saw the Hapsburg monarchy as an ally against the Ottomans, but as the remaining imperial power standing in the way of a Greater Serbia. Serbia began supporting nationalist organizations like the clandestine Black Hand among Serbs in Austro-Hungarian Bosnia and Croatia.

Allegedly, it was a Black Hand activist who assassinated the Austro-Hungarian Archduke Ferdinand at Sarajevo in 1914. However, lax security during Ferdinand’s visit to the Bosnian city led some to speculate that Austrian hard-liners wanted the Archduke dead as an excuse to make war on Serbia. When Austria attacked Serbia, Europe was plunged into World War I.

The Austro-Hungarian and Ottoman empires now joined forces against Russia, and its ally Great Britain, which came to Serbia’s aid. Germany lined up with Vienna and Constantinople; France with London and Moscow. Greece and Romania sided with Russia and the Serbs against Bulgaria and the Turks. Croats and Slovenes who had been conscripted into the Austrian army were pitted against the Serbs. Albanians in Kosovo revolted in support of the Austrian invasion, and were favored with administrative posts and restoration of their language and cultural rights by the Austrian occupation forces.

When the Bolsheviks seized power in 1917, Russia withdrew from the war. But by then the United States had entered on the side of Britain and France, and the Allies landed at Greece to help the Serbian army retake the country. In 1918, the Austro-Hungarian and Ottoman empires were defeated and finally dismantled.

From the First Yugoslavia to World War II
The victorious Allies redrew the map of the region. In cooperation with local forces who aspired to South Slav unity, a Kingdom of Serbs, Croats, and Slovenes was created—later renamed Yugoslavia. For the first time Serbia, Croatia, Slovenia, Bosnia, Montenegro, and Macedonia were united into a common state. The Hungarian region of Vojvodina was annexed to Serbia (having been an autonomous Serb duchy within the Hapsburg empire). The small enclave of Zara on Croatia’s Dalmatian coast was taken by Italy which, in 1919, called in U.S. troops to back up its claim.

The new Yugoslav government was based on the Serbian monarchy, and was seated at the Serbian capital of Belgrade. The establishment of a dictatorship by King Alexander in 1929 further consolidated Serb power in the new state. Administrative borders were redrawn within the kingdom, augmenting Serb control and eliminating the constituent nations as unified territories.

This “First Yugoslavia” began to fall apart with the rise of European fascism in the 1930s. In 1934, King Alexander was assassinated by a member of the Croatian nationalist organization Ustashe, which was backed by Mussolini’s Italy. The Regency appointed to rule in place of Alexander’s ten-year-old son granted Croatia some autonomy. With the outbreak of World War II, it also tilted toward the Axis, signing a pact with Hitler in March of 1941. This resulted in British support for a coup d’etat and popular uprising against the Regency. But the uprising was put down by invading Nazi troops as the Luftwaffe bombed Belgrade. The government and royal family fled into exile in Britain.

The fascist powers dismantled Yugoslavia. The German occupation forces ruled Serbia with collaborationist elements from the old regime. A pro-Nazi “independent” Croatian state, which included Bosnia, was established under the Ustashe. Italy had seized Albania in 1939 and now occupied Dalmatia and Montenegro as well, and divided Slovenia with Germany. Most of Kosovo was annexed to Italian-occupied Albania. Hungary took much of Vojvodina, while Bulgaria annexed Macedonia.

The Ustashe regime in Croatia established a death camp at Jasenovac and carried out genocide against hundreds of thousands of Serbs, Jews, and Roma (Gypsies). Bosnia’s Muslim leadership was co-opted by the Ustashe regime and cooperated in the genocide. Nazi and collaborationist forces in Serbia deported Jews and Roma to Auschwitz, and sent uncooperative Serb army officers to German prison camps. Many Kosovo Albanians, their loyalty bought by unification with Albania, also formed collaborationist militias. Serbian nationalist elements in the Yugoslav military that remained loyal to the monarchy formed a guerrilla group known as the Chetniks, which initially received aid from Britain and resisted the Nazi occupation.

However, at the behest of Russia’s Joseph Stalin, the Allies ultimately threw their support behind a Communist guerrilla movement known as the Partisans, which remained committed to the idea of Yugoslavia, as opposed to Serb nationalism. The fighting became extremely confused. Perceiving the Partisans as the greater threat, some Chetniks joined Italian and German offensives against the Communist guerillas. Chetniks in Bosnia massacred Muslims and Croats. Britain and the U.S. air-dropped aid to the multi-ethnic Partisans in their struggle against the Ustashe, the Chetniks, and the occupation forces.

The Tito Era
In July 1943, Mussolini was overthrown and Italian troops returned home from the Balkans. In November 1944, the Soviet Red Army advanced on Belgrade. The overstretched Germans were dislodged and the Partisans emerged victorious. Their Croatian-born leader, Marshal Josip Broz Tito, was installed in power. Tito established the Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia, which consisted of six republics (Serbia, Croatia, Slovenia, Bosnia, Macedonia, and Montenegro) and two autonomous regions within Serbia (Vojvodina and Kosovo). Not only was defeated Italy forced to cede its claims to Dalmatian territory, but the Italian peninsula of Istria was liberated from Mussolini’s rule by Tito’s Partisans and annexed to Croatia. Tito even tried to claim the Italian city of Trieste, but backed down after sparking a post-war crisis with the West.

Following Tito’s break with Stalin in 1948, Yugoslavia maintained independence from the Soviet bloc, pursuing a “non-aligned” path between East and West. The neighboring Albanian Communist regime under Enver Hoxha, which had been closely allied with Tito, broke from Yugoslavia at this time and became a rigidly closed dictatorship.

Yugoslavia embarked on a program of reconstruction and industrialization. Creating a multi-ethnic Bosnian republic was part of Tito’s plan to solidify the anti-nationalist character of the new Yugoslavia. But Serbs retained predominance in the Communist Party apparatus, the political police, and the leadership of the Yugoslav People’s Army (JNA). Fearing invasion from both NATO and the USSR, Tito gave the JNA a central role in the new Yugoslavia. It became one of the largest of Europe’s armies. Using the Partisan model, the government also built an extensive territorial defense network of local militias.

Tito built Yugoslavia’s defense industry into one of Europe’s largest, with Bosnia (seen as the strategic center from which to defend in the event of war) home to some of the most important arms plants. Trade and investment for the Yugoslav arms industry poured in from both the East and West. American defense giants like Lockheed won contracts in Yugoslavia. Tito’s system of “self-management” incorporated certain capitalist elements and allowed for a larger degree of autonomy in the industrial sector than in most Communist states. International capital was obtained for the development of heavy industry, especially metallurgy, in Croatia. The International Monetary Fund (IMF) loaned heavily in the 1960s. In the effort to transform a peasant economy into an industrial power, Yugoslavia racked up a $20 billion foreign debt—a figure comparable to that of many Third World nations.

While Yugoslavia became the most open of the Communist nations, there was still significant repression. Tito kept the lid on the hatreds left smoldering from World War II, but he muzzled legitimate discourse and dissent as well. Any expression of nationalist sentiment was completely forbidden. Nevertheless, demands for autonomy continued to surface. The Yugoslav security forces, suspicious of Hoxha’s designs on the region, took a heavy hand with Kosovo Albanians in the 1960s, leading to demonstrations in Pristina (the regional capital) in 1968. Student democracy protests in Belgrade that year were also met with arrests. In the “Croatian Spring” of the early 1970s, the republic’s Communist Party began moving towards autonomy from Belgrade, prompting Tito to unleash a purge.

However, these developments also prompted Tito to purge hard-liners from the federal apparatus and to unveil a new constitution instating a high level of decentralization in nearly all areas except military and foreign policy. The 1974 constitution established a rotating federal presidency among the republics, to take effect after Tito’s death. The autonomy of Kosovo and Vojvodina was extended to make them equal with the six republics in most capacities.

In the late 1970s the IMF started to call in its loans. Following Tito’s death in 1980, Yugoslavia fell into dramatic economic decline as IMF repayment plans imposed harsh austerity. Richer Slovenia and Croatia began to resent the drain of local wealth to the JNA—and the poorer regions of Serbia, Montenegro, and Macedonia. Albanian students demanding greater autonomy protested angrily in Kosovo in 1981. Thousands were arrested and eleven students were killed by the police. Grassroots movements against militarism and nuclear power, especially in Croatia and Slovenia (where an atomic plant was built), called for a looser Yugoslav confederation. But such initiatives were blocked by the JNA.

Yugoslavia Self-Destructs
In 1986 word surfaced of a secret memorandum written by the Serbian Academy of Arts and Sciences delineating a plan for a Greater Serbia within Yugoslavia. The text, revealed in the press years later, called for revoking Kosovo’s autonomy and charged the Kosovar Albanians with “war” against the province’s Serbs. In fact, Kosovo’s mines were a source of much wealth for the federal regime, yet the region was Yugoslavia’s poorest. The Albanians, as Yugoslavia’s poorest group, had soaring birth rates, while Serbs of means were moving out of Kosovo. At the time, Albanians made up 90 percent of Kosovo’s population, and there were widespread accusations of violence and discrimination against local Serbs.

Slobodan Milosevic’s League of Communists of Serbia (soon to be renamed the Socialist Party of Serbia) became the first group to successfully break the Titoist prohibition on nationalism, launching a populist campaign in 1987 that exploited both class resentment against bureaucratic elites and Serb fears of Albanian demographic dominance in Kosovo. The 1389 Battle of Kosovo became a rallying cry. The campaign led to Milosevic’s election as Serbia’s president. The JNA, with a largely Serb officer corps, fell in line behind him.

In 1989, Milosevic arranged a purge of Kosovo’s Communist party and pushed through constitutional changes that abolished Kosovo’s autonomy. Students again took to the streets in Pristina, and workers occupied Kosovo’s mines in protest of the move. Milosevic put down the actions with army troops, while opposition protesters in Belgrade also met violent repression. Albanian teachers and government workers in Kosovo were fired on a massive scale. Schools and other public institutions became rigidly segregated. Albanian-language newspapers and radio stations were closed. Kosovo’s Albanians established a parallel network of schools, clinics, and civic agencies run out of private homes.

The Serbian treatment of Albanians evoked disgust in Slovenia and Croatia. Nationalist parties emerged in each of the republics, and the Yugoslav Communist Party fell apart, surviving only as Serbia’s ruling party. The federal structure ceased to function.

In 1990, a new deal with the IMF imposed economic “shock therapy” on Yugoslavia, freezing wages and dramatically cutting back such basic services as energy and transportation. That same year, the United States cut off economic aid pending the results of the upcoming separate elections in each of the six republics. The elections were marked by populist campaigns highlighting ethnic grievances in each republic.

Franjo Tudjman, leader of the Croatian Democratic Union (CDU), was a veteran of the Partisans who had been briefly imprisoned under Tito for espousing Croatian nationalism. Tudjman won 67 percent of the vote in Croatia. The CDU victory stirred fears among Croatia’s Serbs when the party refused to disavow Croatia’s Ustashe past. This stance proved helpful to Milosevic in Serbia as he used his nationalist program to outmaneuver student and intellectual opposition.

A plebiscite in Slovenia in December of 1990 went overwhelmingly for secession, and Slovenia prepared to declare independence. A similar referendum in Croatia in May 1991 had similar results. Fears of Croatian independence were inflamed in Croatia’s Serb enclaves when the nascent state adopted the flag and crest that had been used by the Ustashe (although the symbols had roots in medieval Croatia). Tudjman’s draft constitution made no reference to the citizenship rights of ethnic Serbs, who were a “constituent nationality” under Croatia’s Communist constitution. He purged Serbs from the republic’s police and militia forces in preparation for independence. Before the plebiscite, Serbs formed their own militias and sealed off their enclaves. No polling stations were allowed in their territory. After three generations, the Krajina had reemerged.

On June 21, 1991, United States Secretary of State James Baker visited Belgrade, warning of the “dangers of disintegration” and urging Yugoslavia to maintain “territorial integrity.” Belgrade took this as a “green light” to use force to halt secession. Meanwhile, Germany, with substantial investments in Slovenia and Croatia, was urging the European Community to recognize the breakaway republics. One week after Baker’s comments, Croatia and Slovenia declared independence and JNA tanks and troops invaded Slovenia, meeting strong resistance from Slovenian territorial defense forces. After ten days of fighting, with forty-four JNA troops dead, the international community helped negotiate a cease-fire and a three-month moratorium on Slovenia’s secession. By the time the moratorium expired, the JNA had pulled out. The Balkans’ borders had changed for the first time since World War II.

War in Croatia and Bosnia
By then Croatia had descended into war. The Serbs in the Krajina declared their own independence, expelling Croat residents from their territory. The JNA invaded eastern Croatia in August, coming to the defense of local Serb militias. Serb artillery demolished the city of Vukovar in Croatia’s eastern Slavonia region. Atrocities against civilians were committed by both sides.

The European Community tried to mediate the conflict at a September conference in The Hague, where Serbia demanded that Serb regions in any seceding republic have the option to remain in Yugoslavia. Talks in The Hague deadlocked, and the fighting intensified. In October, the city of Dubrovnik, on Croatia’s Dalmatian coast, was shelled by Serb/JNA forces from the overlooking hills. Fourteen cease-fires were implemented and failed until February 1992, when United Nations Special Envoy Cyrus Vance brokered one that included the introduction of UN peacekeeping forces.

Under German pressure, in December 1991 the European Community recognized Slovenia and Croatia as independent. But the Serb-controlled regions of Croatia in the Krajina and Slavonia continued to maintain their autonomy – which was not recognized by the Croatian capital of Zagreb, but backed by force of arms. In June 1992, the UN began an economic embargo against Serbia. An arms embargo against all republics failed to stop the war from spreading, and some say it solidified the Serbs’ power since they had large weapons stockpiles supplied by a sympathetic JNA.

The future of Bosnia become unclear. Bosnia’s cultural diversity (45 percent Muslim Slav, 33 percent Serb, and 18 percent Croat), traditionally a point of pride, became a source of tension. The Bosnians initially declared their desire to remain in a loose Yugoslav confederation. But faced with secession by Slovenia and Croatia they were compelled to hold a referendum of their own in February 1992. This halted all negotiations in Bosnia, and strengthened a strategic alliance between Bosnian Muslims and Croats against the Serbs, who boycotted the referendum. The vote went for secession.

The 1991 Bosnian elections had brought Alija Izetbegovic of the Muslim-supported Party of Democratic Action to power. Izetbegovic was a former dissident who had been imprisoned in 1983 for writing an “Islamic Declaration” outlining a program for Muslim nationalism. Although Izetbegovic put together a multi-ethnic coalition government, the Milosevic regime used his background to convince Bosnian Serbs that the Bosnian government was a fundamentalist Islamic power bent on massacring Serbs in a holy war.

By April 1992, fighting had begun in Bosnia. Under the leadership of poet and psychiatrist Radovan Karadzic, and with support from Serbia, Bosnian Serbs formed their own “Serb Republic” and military. Karadzic’s forces sought to cut a corridor though northern Bosnia to connect Serbia with Serb-controlled areas of Croatia. They attempted to create ethnically homogeneous zones, eventually gaining control of some 70 percent of Bosnian territory. The expulsion of Muslims and Croats from areas under their control drew international protest, as did the discovery of makeshift concentration camps run by Serb troops where mass rapes and other atrocities occurred. (United States President George Bush knew of these horrific realities from CIA reports before they were revealed in the international press, but remained silent about them.)

Karadzic integrated Bosnian Serb JNA troops into his military command, which continued to receive support from Belgrade. Zagreb backed Bosnian Croat forces under Mate Boban, who came to the aid of the besieged Bosnian government. The UN sent peacekeeper troops to police the lines of control, and UN negotiators Cyrus Vance and Lord David Owen developed a Peace Plan dividing Bosnia into ten semi-autonomous regions. The plan won grudging agreement from the Bosnian government and Croat forces, but the Serbs rejected it at their self-declared parliament.

In January 1993, fighting briefly broke out between Croats and Serbs in Croatia, where the presence of UN troops had done little to move the situation toward a political settlement. In March, Bosnian Croat forces also began attacking Muslims in towns like Mostar, with an eye to staking a territorial claim before the Peace Plan took effect – leading many Muslims to suspect a Serb-Croat plot to divide Bosnia.

Bosnia settled into a war of attrition, with Sarajevo and a few other government-held cities besieged by the rebel Serb forces that controlled most of the country. For months, Sarajevo, Bosnia’s capital, was intermittently shelled from the surrounding hills. The UN announced war crimes charges against Karadzic and his general, Ratko Mladic, as well as lesser figures from all three sides.

Macedonia also declared independence, gaining UN recognition in 1993. Yugoslavia now consisted only of Serbia and Montenegro. In 1992, Kosovo Albanians had gone to the polls in their living rooms, electing a parliament and president—dissident intellectual Ibrahim Rugova—to lead their parallel underground government, but held back from declaring themselves an independent state.

Slobodan Milosevic, his Serbian nationalist party now known as the Socialist Party, faced opposition from both marginalized anti-war dissidents and ultra-nationalists like Vojaslav Seselj’s Radical Party, which controlled seats in the Yugoslav Parliament. But Milosevic, shifting to maintain power, sometimes found Seselj a useful ally against Serbian moderates.

In Croatia, the hard-line opposition of Dobroslav Paraga (which was openly nostalgic for the Ustashe) represented a more strident nationalism than Tudjman. Like Serbia’s Seselj, Paraga controlled extremist paramilitary groups in Bosnia. But an anti-war opposition also persisted in Croatia. In both Serbia and Croatia, the opposition press was periodically closed by official decree for criticism of the regime.

The forces of the Bosnian Muslims, Croats, and especially Serbs, who faced the most stringent embargo, turned to smuggling heroin and other contraband for arms and petrol. A criminal economy exploded throughout the region.

Western Intervention
In February 1994, following a rocket attack on Sarajevo’s marketplace, NATO planes struck Serb targets in Bosnia. The siege of Sarajevo was eased. Mate Boban was ousted as leader of the Bosnian Croats, and a formal Croat-Muslim alliance was rebuilt. In May 1994, after NATO threatened air strikes against Serbia, Milosevic ordered the Bosnian border sealed, ostensibly cutting off aid to Karadzic. President Bill Clinton then pressed to lift the arms embargo against the Bosnian government, but the United Kingdom and France (with UN peacekeeper troops in Bosnia) refused. Nonetheless, Clinton later vetoed bills to end U.S. participation in the arms embargo.

In May 1995, Croatian government forces took the Serb-held Western Slavonia enclave, sending Serb refugees fleeing into Serb-held Bosnia.

In July, Bosnian Serb forces overran the UN-protected “safe areas” of Zepa and Srebrenica, summarily evicting thousands of Muslim women and children to Bosnian government-held territory. Srebrenica’s men were held, their whereabouts a mystery—years later, international investigators would find the mass graves where they had been dumped. Investigators maintain that the Serb forces used the mind-altering gas BZ against the troops defending Srebrenica. Sarajevo, Gorazde, Tuzla, and Bihac were the only remaining UN “safe areas.” Croatian troops intervened as Bosnian Serbs attempted to take the government-held Bihac pocket near the Croatian border.

In August, Croatia invaded the Krajina, meeting little resistance. Serbia did nothing to intervene, leading to further theories of a Tudjman-Milosevic carve-up deal. A U.S. warplane based on a carrier off Dalmatia’s coast launched strikes on the Serbs’ missile defense system in the Krajina just before Tudjman ordered in his troops. The Croatian forces were also trained by U.S. military advisors for the Krajina invasion, dubbed Operation Storm—technically not a violation of the arms embargo, which did not cover military instruction.

Two hundred thousand Serb refugees fled the Krajina in a massive exodus to Serb-held Bosnia and Serbia, with Croatian troops burning and ransacking their houses behind them. Milosevic faced nationalist protests in Belgrade for his failure to act. The overwhelmed Serbian government settled the refugees in Vojvodina and Kosovo, helping tip the demographic balance away from Hungarians and Albanians, respectively. As the refugees arrived, Croats were expelled from Serb-held Bosnia and Vojvodina.

Tensions also escalated in the one remaining Serb-held area of Croatia, the Eastern Slavonia enclave bordering Serbia. Skirmishes erupted with Croatian troops, and Milosevic sent forces to Serbia’s border with the enclave. Pushing a new U.S.-brokered peace plan for a confederated Bosnia with large Serb and Croat ethnic zones, NATO threatened further raids if Sarajevo was shelled. At the end of August a second marketplace bombing called NATO’s ultimatum. From U.S. air bases in Italy, NATO launched successive bombing raids aimed at Serb arms depots and artillery outside Sarajevo. The NATO raids and Serb losses in the Krajina marked a turning point. Bosnian government and Croat forces made territorial gains in a sweep through central Bosnia.

The new U.S. role augmented the Clinton Administration’s renewed leadership status in Europe, and headed off greater involvement by Islamic countries that had sent mercenaries to fight for the Bosnian government. Despite opposition at home, Clinton ordered 20,000 U.S. troops to Bosnia, which was divided by NATO into U.S., French, and British spheres. Greece, Turkey, Germany, and other NATO members sent smaller troop detachments. In a special arrangement for a non-NATO state, so did Russia—the perceived protector of the Serbs.

American negotiators successfully brokered a cease-fire in October, bringing Serb, Croat, and Muslim leaders to Wright Patterson Air Force Base in Dayton, Ohio, for a three-week marathon session that resulted in the Dayton Peace Accord. Under heavy pressure, the Bosnian Serbs agreed to be represented in Dayton by Milosevic, who suddenly took on the mantle of “peacemaker.” This finally brought the lifting of economic sanctions against Serbia. In the wake of Dayton, Serbia also agreed to pull out of Eastern Slavonia, ending the last armed stand-off in Croatia.

The Dayton Accord ostensibly established a single Bosnian state—but one made up of two separate entities, a Serb Republic and a Croat-Bosnian Federation, which maintained their own militaries and separate relationships with bordering states. Even those areas under Croat control were more answerable to Zagreb than Sarajevo. NATO troops replaced the ineffective UN forces as the monitors of compliance with the Accord. Yet responsibility for overseeing elections, rebuilding, refugee repatriation, and civil reconciliation stayed with UN, European Union, and Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe (OSCE) agencies with comparatively modest budgets.

The Dayton Accord displayed a pattern familiar since the region’s early history. The agendas of the Western powers informed the Accord, and the local political leaders used it for their own advantages, just as they used ethnic nationalism and war. Bosnia’s civilian population had little say in the matter. Over 10,000 had been killed in Sarajevo since the war started.

The Kosovo Explosion
The Dayton Accord failed to include any provisions for Kosovo. In frustration, many young Albanians gave up on Ibrahim Rugova’s nonviolent strategy of building a parallel society that could eventually gain international recognition. In 1997, an Albanian guerrilla group, the Kosovo Liberation Army (KLA), began ambushing police patrols and attacking stations. Serbian security forces responded by sealing off villages and rounding up suspected guerrilla collaborators. Reports of torture and “disappearance” of detained Albanians escalated.

Milosevic was then facing the biggest crisis of his career. When his regime refused to recognize local elections for the opposition in November 1996, thousands of protesters took over Belgrade’s central square for several weeks. The protests were broken by police in January 1997 and the opposition coalition splintered, though the regime finally did recognize some opposition electoral victories.

Milosevic was barred by the constitution from running for a third term as Serbian president, but in July 1997 he had the federal Parliament he controlled elect him president of Yugoslavia. The vote was taken in an atmosphere of terror, with the opposition press closed by decree. Milosevic remained Serbia’s real boss, and actually increased his power.

Neighboring Albania had meanwhile descended into chaos. The weak post-Communist government had entered NATO’s Partnership for Peace military program and opened the country to U.S. troops and spy planes. It also promoted unscrupulous pyramid schemes, designed by get-rich-quick outfits to exploit the desperation and ignorance of Europe’s poorest, most isolated country. When the pyramids crashed, thousands of Albanians lost their life savings. In March of 1997 the country exploded into rebellion. Village clans plundered the military armories and seized local control. Thousands of refugees fled across the Adriatic to Italy. In April, a multilateral European intervention force landed, restored a measure of central authority, and prepared to oversee new elections.

Many of the arms plundered from the Albanian military were smuggled across the border to the KLA. Interpol claimed the KLA had also turned to the heroin trade to fund arms purchases. In any case, the rebel group swelled as repression gripped Kosovo. In February 1998, following a KLA attack on a police patrol that left four officers dead, Serbian police and paramilitary groups responded with a new campaign of “ethnic cleansing.” By early 1999, hundreds of villages had been torched and a quarter of a million Kosovar Albanians (out of a total population of 1.4 million) were displaced. Some fled across the border to Albania and Macedonia. Others hid in Kosovo’s mountains.

In return for guarantees of Serbian sovereignty over Kosovo, U.S. envoy Richard Holbrooke secured Milosevic’s agreement on a deal calling for an OSCE “verification mission” to monitor the situation on the ground. But the violence continued, despite the monitors. International investigators discovered evidence of massacres, which was predictably contested by Serbian authorities.

In February 1999, a new round of U.S.-brokered talks between the Milosevic government and an Albanian team including both KLA and Rugova representatives convened at Rambouillet, France. Milosevic rejected Clinton’s demands for NATO troops to police Kosovo. The Albanians rejected terms mandating a three-year interval before Kosovo could vote for secession. The Albanian team finally gave in and signed the Rambouillet Accords. Fearing a backlash from hard-liners in his own regime, Milosevic remained intransigent. On March 24, NATO began Operation Allied Force, a sustained bombing campaign of Yugoslavia. Belgrade’s forces responded with Operation Horseshoe, a campaign to finally drive the Albanians from Kosovo altogether. Whole villages fled at gunpoint, families loaded onto tractors.

Ultimately, 800,000 Kosovar Albanians settled in massive refugee camps hastily established in Albania and Macedonia. Milosevic was finally accused of war crimes, and ordered to surrender himself to a UN tribunal established at The Hague.

Despite NATO claims of precision bombing guided by military necessity, civilian targets were widely hit—including bridges, factories, oil refineries, power plants, and Belgrade’s TV station. In one embarrassing error, a convoy of Albanian refugees was bombed. In May, Belgrade’s Chinese embassy was destroyed by a NATO missile. Another errant missile destroyed a civilian passenger train. Another hit a suburban area of Bulgaria. Such “collateral damage” cost perhaps 2,000 lives. The bombing also unleashed an ecological nightmare. Mercury and PCBs from bombed industrial sites contaminated the Danube, bringing fishing and commerce on the river to a halt. In Pancevo, where a dark cloud from the destroyed petrochemical works enveloped the city, doctors noted a doubling of the miscarriage rate. NATO forces suffered no casualties, though Yugoslav air defense forces did succeed in downing a U.S. Stealth fighter (the pilot was rescued).

While the air assault was overwhelmingly led by the U.S., it also saw participation by Germany’s military, in combat operations for the first time since World War II—ironically, under a left-coalition government that included the Green Party. Greece allowed NATO troops and war material to pass through to Macedonia and Albania, but refused to participate in the air raids. Many NATO countries saw large protests against the bombing. On April 28, the U.S. Congress voted not to declare war, but not to halt the bombing either, ceding authority on the question to the president.

The bombing ended on June 20. Both NATO and Belgrade claimed victory. In fact, both compromised: Milosevic agreed to accept NATO troops, but the West dropped demands for any moves towards actual independence for Kosovo. The deal was sanctioned by the UN, which also prepared its own international police force for Kosovo. The KLA, which had fought Serb forces on the ground throughout the bombing, was to be partially disarmed and converted into a civilian police force.

As the U.S., Britain, France, Italy, and Germany divided Kosovo into occupation zones, Russian troops rushed in from Bosnia to seize Pristina’s airport as a bargaining chip. NATO’s commander, U.S. General Wesley Clark, wanted to push the Russians out, but was overruled by his European coalition partners. Russian troops were allowed into the international “peacekeeping force” despite protests from Albanians, who accused Russian mercenaries of participation in Operation Horseshoe. Kosovo was now part of Serbia in name only, with power actually divided between NATO and the KLA—now swelled with volunteers from throughout the Albanian diaspora.

As Albanian refugees flooded back in, Serb civilians fled towards Belgrade. By summer’s end, Kosovo’s Serb population had been reduced by two-thirds, to 70,000. Many towns were divided into Serb and Albanian zones, separated by barbed wire and occupation troops. Both Serbs and Roma, who were accused of collaborating with the Serbs, were targets of forced evictions, executions, and other revenge violence. As Serb refugees poured into Serbia, widespread protests again erupted demanding the resignation of Milosevic—in defiance of a state of emergency.

Protests simmered for a year, but a united opposition movement failed to consolidate. In the Summer of 2000, Milosevic—having pushed through constitutional changes allowing him to run for another term as Yugoslav president—called new elections. The three opposition candidates shared the consensus on Serb nationalism. Montenegro’s leadership called for a boycott of the election, while the West chose to support the most moderate candidate, Vojislav Kostunica of the Serbian Democratic Party.

In the September 24 elections, Kostunica claimed a 55% victory, but Milosevic refused to recognize this, demanding a run-off vote. A huge protest movement—with considerable financial backing form the U.S. State Department—now mobilized throughout Serbia to oppose a run-off and demand Milosevic’s resignation.

On October 5, half a million people amassed in Belgrade, with tens of thousands of Serbs arriving in the capital from the provinces. In Kolubara, thousands of miners and their local supporters seized the streets and forced the police to withdraw. The following day, Yugoslavia’s Constitutional Court confirmed Kostunica’s victory, and Milosevic resigned. After 13 years, Milosvic’s reign was finally over. Even Montenegro agreed to recognize Kostunica as president.

However, almost immediately, remnants of the officially disbanded KLA stepped up attacks on Serbian patrols in the “buffer zone” between occupied Kosovo and Serbia proper with an eye towards liberating more territory. Kostunica warned that the guerilla attacks could spark a “large-scale war.” The Kosovo crisis also exacerbated divisions in Macedonia. Before the country was called upon to host thousands of Albanian refugees, the large Albanian minority there already faced harassment and demands for their expulsion, and Albanian-language classes at the national university were threatened. The U.S. maintained 300 troops in Macedonia—the only U.S. troops under UN command in the world. But, once again, the UN presence failed to prevent violence.

In February 2001, a KLA offshoot, the National Liberation Army (NLA), took up arms in northern and western Macedonia, and began expelling ethnic Macedonians from the territory they grabbed. Macedonian government forces responded by shelling guerilla-held towns. In August, a tentative cease-fire was reached, and NATO launched Operation Essential Harvest, calling for 3,500 troops (mostly British) to oversee the “voluntary disarmament” of the NLA in exchange for constitutional guarantees of Albanian language and cultural rights. But the agreement could fall apart, and if war resumes the Macedonian crisis could become quickly internationalized. Bulgarian and Greek expansionists both have open designs on the country, and many local Macedonians accuse NATO of backing a “Greater Albanian” design on their territory, as there is no deadline for guerilla disarmament.

Dangers of a Wider War
There is much potential for re-escalation of the Balkan crisis, and the presence of foreign troops makes the stakes higher. Many Kosovo Albanians view KLA disarmament and retreat from official independence as a capitulation, while Serb hard-liners like Seselj accused Milosevic of selling Kosovo, and are even more hostile to Kostunica. Nonetheless, in June 2001, Kostunica capitulated to Western pressure and turned Milosevic over to the UN war crimes tribunal. Several lesser figures from all sides in the Bosnian and Croatian wars have also been turned over to The Hague—although Karadzic and Mladic remain at large.

Montenegro, which was bombed by NATO in 1999 despite being at odds with Belgrade, remains another likely flashpoint. Montenegro’s president, former black marketeer Milo Djukanovic, has support from local Albanians, urban dwellers, and the West, but was opposed by Milosevic’s followers. Unwilling to support Serbia’s war in Kosovo, Djukanovic threatened to hold a referendum on secession if Montenegro was not granted greater autonomy, and actually switched Montenegro’s currency from the Yugoslav dinar to the German mark. The contradiction there, if less urgent than under Milosevic, has not been resolved under Kostunica.

The large Hungarian minority in Serbia’s northern breadbasket of Vojvodina mostly rejected Belgrade’s Kosovo war, and expansionists in Hungary have designs on that region.

Bosnia remains tense and divided, dependent on outside governance and funding. Karadzic has lost control of the Serb Republic to more moderate forces, and is in hiding. The Muslim-led government in Sarajevo has become more narrowly nationalistic, but has little control of the countryside. In Croatia, efforts by Serb refugees to return to their homes remains a source of tension. In December 1999, Tudjman died of cancer, and his CDU was voted out by a reformist coalition in subsequent elections. The Croatian reformists worried that Croatia’s continued violations of international human rights standards, and the lack of effort in arresting Croatians wanted by the war crimes tribunal, would stall the desired entry into the EU.

In the immediate aftermath of the 1999 bombing, Russia conducted its largest military maneuvers since the end of the Cold War. Russian bombers approached Norwegian and Icelandic airspace, and were confronted by NATO fighters. The exercise ended with a “simulated” nuclear strike—a chilling echo of Cold War brinkmanship. Moscow faces domestic terrorism and economic collapse, and views it as significant that the bombing campaign began days after NATO, on its 50th anniversary, expanded to include Hungary, the Czech Republic, and Poland—three former Warsaw Pact members, two of which border the former Soviet Union. Russia is now waging a counter-insurgency war against Muslim rebels in the Caucasus mountains. The former Soviet republics of Georgia and Azerbaijan, immediately to the south, have established preliminary military-diplomatic links to NATO. In the Central Asian republics of Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan, NATO is training troops to fight Islamic guerrillas based in neighboring Tajikistan under the Partnership for Peace program. The Kremlin sees all this as an embryonic encirclement of the Caspian Sea, which is eyed by U.S. corporations for major oil development in the twenty-first century.

Never Again?
Wars are often followed by waves of public sentiment that such carnage must never happen again. But wars do happen again, frequently in the same places. The new Balkan wars are usually portrayed in the media as part of a never-ending conflict among ethnic groups. History shows, however, that these conflicts are most often the result of outside pressures from more powerful nations and manipulation by the local leaders who do their bidding. If the international community, either at the level of nation-states or citizen initiatives, truly wants to promote peace, an understanding of Balkan history must inform any action we take. Otherwise, it is likely that the cycles of violent conflict in the region will continue to spiral.
August 2001

Balkan War Resource Group
39 Bowery PMB# 940
New York, NY 10002

Continue ReadingWAR AT THE CROSSROADS