enquirer.com

News
Front Page
Local
Sports
-Bengals
-Reds
-Bearcats
-Xavier
Business
Weather
Traffic
Back Issues
AP Wire
-World
-Nation
-Sports
-Business
-Arts
-Health

Classifieds
Jobs
Autos
General
Obits
Homes

Freetime
Movies
Dining
Calendars
Weekend

Opinion
Columns
Borgman

GoCinci
HelpDesk
Feedback
Circulation
Subscribe
Phone #'s
Search

Enquirer Columnists
Tell us how to improve this site

Dayton accords stopped shooting, but wounds of war still bleed


BY CAMERON McWHIRTER
The Cincinnati Enquirer

When Bosnian, Serbian and Croatian leaders initialed the Dayton peace agreement in November, Clinton administration officials announced it would stop the fighting and restore a unified, multiethnic, democratic Bosnia.

"Bosnia is the ballgame for United States policy in Europe in this year," said Richard Holbrooke, U.S. lead envoy on Bosnia and chief architect of the accord, at his last briefing before retiring in late February. "We have staked a great deal on success in Bosnia. Failure is unthinkable."

The administration has put U.S. credibility on the line for the agreement, committing more than 24,000 U.S. troops, billions of dollars and the full efforts of the State Department toward making sure the wording of the 46-page document translates into peace in the war-torn Balkan nation.

But in Bosnia - where deep mistrust and animosity still dominate the landscape - failure and renewed fighting loom as a distinct possibility. Bosnia's hopes for a quick, surgical end to its debacle appear ruined.

Muslims, Serbs and Croats in the country now use the phrase Ne rat, ne mir - Not war, not peace - to describe the twilight world of post-Dayton Bosnia. They feel the accord has imposed an artificial peace, leaving them in a limbo where full-scale combat has temporarily stopped, but the hatreds, divisions, uncertainties and insanities of war continue unabated.

"I don't believe this is a long peace; no one does," said Hiba Hadzismajlovic, a 67-year-old Muslim woman in Sarajevo whose daughter is now a refugee in Cincinnati.

Many blame the problem on the accord, which is widely considered flawed, vague and simplistic. The Bosnian Serb newspaper, Oslobodjenje Srpska, recently ran a political cartoon depicting a squiggly, convoluted road winding around the mountains of Bosnia. At the beginning of the road stood an exasperated-looking angel carrying an olive branch. At the end of the road stood beady-eyed, well-dressed diplomats standing beneath waving flags.

The caption read cynically, "The road to Peace."

Kris Janowski, U.N. spokesman in Sarajevo, said leaders on all sides speak highly of the Dayton accord when talking to the United States and other countries in the NATO peace force. But they have little room for conciliation when it comes to carrying out the plan's edicts.

"You can talk as much as you want," he said. "But what is happening is more important than talking. And what's happening is not very encouraging. Lip service is in great abundance here."

The accord

The agreement, made up of 11 articles dealing with everything from human rights to internal borders to armies, was initialed by the presidents of Bosnia, Serbia and Croatia on Nov. 21, after three weeks of intense pressure from U.S. negotiators.

Eager to deliver some kind of peace settlement, U.S. diplomats used carrot-and-stick tactics - including the promise of U.S. ground troops to secure the peace and the threat of withheld aid. They got a deal. U.S. and NATO troops began mobilizing the week that the accord was signed. President Clinton promised that U.S. troops would be withdrawn from Bosnia by December 1996.

But while the peace signing made headlines across the world, each side in Bosnia was grumbling about what it had to give up. Bosnian Serbs had to give up territory. Bosnian Muslims allowed for the Bosnian Serb republic to exist within the borders of a "united" Bosnian state. Bosnian Croats agreed to become the second power in a federation with Bosnian Muslims.

Bosnian President Alija Izetbegovic, the political leader of the Muslim community, has been sour on the accord from the start. When he formally signed it in Paris, he described it as "a bitter potion of medication."

Three governments

Since the signing, dissatisfaction with the accord has grown exponentially among all groups. Today Bosnia is a country united only in name. In fact, it is the forced union of two "entities" under the Dayton pact. Fifty-one percent of Bosnia was put under the Muslim-Croat federation. Forty-nine percent of Bosnia was placed under the control of the Bosnian Serbs. In recent months, the Bosnian Croats have threatened to break with the Muslims and divide Bosnia into three parts. Many Bosnian Croats think they should ally with neighboring Croatia.

Most of the weapons still are in the hands of the opposing armies, who are prepared for renewed fighting. No one definitively won the war, so all sides remain armed and organized. Despite the pronouncements of Bosnian, Serb and Croat leaders as well as the Clinton administration and NATO, "peaceful" Bosnia is a brave new world that few Bosnians - Muslims, Serbs or Croats - have the energy to believe in.

The war cost in excess of 200,000 lives. More than 2.5 million Bosnians fled or were driven from their homes in the 3ï-year conflict. In Sarajevo alone, 10,615 people - including 1,601 children - were killed, the Bosnian Health Ministry says. A total of 46,982 people, including 11,442 children, were wounded. The population of Sarajevo dropped to about 360,000 from about 525,000 before the war. Only about 200,000 of those now living in Sarajevo lived in the city before the war.

With no clear victor, both sides consider themselves losers.

"It's very disappointing for us," said Nihad Halilbegovic, the Bosnian government's secretary for invalids around Sarajevo. "We wanted a multiethnic republic. We fought and many died for that. But at Dayton, they gave the Serbs half the country. Now, they don't have to cooperate with us at all."

Bosnian Serbs are not the only ones not cooperating with Dayton. The Bosnian government, the Bosnian Croats and the international community have all reneged on parts of the accord. The result is a mess - and it's getting messier.

Major problem areas include:

The unfinished war. The current peace, tentative as it is, is held together by NATO's IFOR, the Implementation Force of the Dayton agreement. IFOR, an army made up of troops from dozens of countries, is everywhere in Bosnia, even on the radio.

"Radio IFOR, the Rock of the Balkans," 1000 AM, blares an eclectic mix of music, from Anita Baker to the Bangles. In between songs, a smooth American male voice comes on, followed by a woman's voice translating in Serbo-Croatian.

"Remember, we are here to help you. Please report any land mines and do not interfere with IFOR operations," the voice says.

The voice talks about "a few isolated incidents" that had caused some concern, but "each day that the peace process holds, the chance of fighting is less likely."

The truth of that statement remains to be seen.

IFOR, the North Atlantic Treaty Organization's first real deployment in its 50-year history, is an impressive show of force. Led by the Americans, British and French, the 60,000-person army includes units from every NATO country, plus Russia, the Ukraine, Hungary and other non-NATO countries.

A major component of the Dayton agreement calls for the creation of a "Zone of Separation," a 600-mile band snaking its way through Bosnia, dividing the two combatting sides, the Bosnian federation (Muslims and Croats) and the Bosnian Serbs.

IFOR troops are heavily armed compared with any local military. U.S. troops, who usually travel in convoys of no less than four vehicles, are armed with .50-caliber machine guns atop Humvees, Bradley fighting vehicles with light canons, mechanized mortars and advanced communications equipment. First Armored Division has brought in tanks and howitzers. U.S. aircraft and helicopters patrol the skies.

But the NATO show of strength does not erase the deep hatred both sides still have for each other.

Almost every night, Bosnian television broadcasts videos of the Bosnian army marching or running through trenches. Bosnian Serb TV meanwhile, broadcasts nationalistic documentaries about how the Serb people must defend themselves from Croat "fascists" and Muslim "fanatics."

Gen. Ramiz Drekovic, vice commander of the Bosnian army, stressed in an interview with The Enquirer that his army was following the regulations of the accord, but he wouldn't mind if war broke out again. "My heart is one thing and reality is something else," the general said through a translator. "The political leaders signed this accord because they felt it was the best end to the war. I am a soldier, I follow orders."

A major shortfall in money for Bosnia's reconstruction. The World Bank estimated that more than $5 billion in foreign aid was needed to rebuild the country after almost four years of war. So far, only about $700 million has been contributed. Commerce Secretary Ron Brown was on a special mission to persuade U.S. businesses to invest in Bosnia's reconstruction when his plane crashed April 3 on a hillside near Dubrovnik, Croatia.

Continued violations of the Dayton agreement. Police with the Bosnian government, the Bosnian Serbs and the Bosnian Croats have set up checkpoints throughout the country in direct violation of the Dayton agreement's call for absolute free movement of citizens. All sides in the conflict also continue to hold prisoners, despite the accord's calls for the immediate release of political and military prisoners.

Civilians on all sides have complained of being attacked and beaten by opposing soldiers and police. NATO troops in the country have conducted little active enforcement of Dayton accord criteria beyond having troops withdraw beyond designated internal borders.

Constitutional mess. In Serb-held territory, the red, white and blue flag bearing the Serbian cross is everywhere. The cross is the symbol of Serbia and bears four Cyrillic C's echoing a Serbian phrase translating loosely as "Serbians must be united to survive." During World War II, the flag was carried by the Chetniks, right-wing royalist Serb guerrillas who took aid from the Nazis.

In Croatian areas, the flag bearing the Croat checkered crest tops all the buildings. The flag's crest harks back to Croatia's role in the Austro-Hungarian empire and when it was an independent state.

In Bosnia government areas, the flag with a blue crest on a white background is the only one in sight. The flag, created in 1992, harks back to medieval crests of an independent Bosnian kingdom.

To try to impose one of the flags on the other regions would mean war, so IFOR hasn't done anything to resolve the split.

The fact that Bosnia can't even agree on one flag is symbolic of deeper political problems not resolved by Dayton. The governmental framework described in the agreement reads like a manual for gridlock. In an effort to appease all sides, negotiators set up a bicameral "parliamentary assembly" with each ethnic group getting about a third of the representatives. The rhetoric of "multiethnic democracy" aside, the parliament created by Dayton might more accurately be dubbed institutionalized separatism.

The presidency is supposed to be three presidents, with one chair who received the highest number of votes around the country. Each "president" has veto power over any decision made by the presidency if the decision, whatever it is, is considered "destructive of a vital interest of the Entity from the territory from which he was elected."

For example, if the Bosnian government wants to prosecute war criminals, the Bosnian Serb president can stop it cold, as long as he goes to his Serb assembly and receives a two-thirds vote of approval.

Elections. Under the Dayton accord, all "parties shall ensure conditions for the organization of free and fair elections, in particular, a politically neutral environment; shall protect and enforce the right to vote in secret without fear or intimidation; shall ensure freedom of expression and of the press; shall allow and encourage freedom of association (including of political parties); and shall ensure freedom of movement."

So far, none of these assurances, signed by all parties, has been established throughout Bosnia. To help set up a democratic Bosnia, the Dayton accords required nationwide elections by the end of the year. No elections have been planned so far. International organizers say they have not received enough money from aid groups and Western governments to sponsor the elections.

Freedom of movement. Many refugees and displaced people want to return to their villages, now under control of opposing sides. They are supposed to be allowed to move back to their homes. In reality, they can't cross the "entity" borders safely, despite complaints lodged by NATO.

Mr. Izetbegovic said earlier this month that few people really want this peace to work, and even fewer want a united Bosnian state.

"Someone is not allowing us to consolidate our state, and the tracks we have lead to some centers in Zagreb and Belgrade. This is combined with the international community," he said.

Human rights. The Bosnian war was full of atrocities. Whole villages were destroyed and civilians murdered, all in the name of ethnic cleansing. Soldiers were known to have murdered, raped and tortured people with impunity. Tens of thousands of people simply disappeared. Under the Dayton accord, those indicted on charges of war crimes (currently more than 50 people, mostly Bosnian Serb soldiers) are supposed to be prosecuted by a U.N. tribunal at The Hague in the Netherlands.

Only a handful of those indicted have been sent to The Hague. Bosnian Serb officials have been particularly recalcitrant on the issue of war criminals, because their leader, Radovan Karadzic, is one of those indicted. Bosnian Serb officials who meet with international representatives all express their continued loyalty to Mr. Karadzic. IFOR has taken no action against Mr. Karadzic, even though Michael Steiner, the deputy head of the international civilian mission to Bosnia, has said Mr. Karadzic still controls the Bosnian Serb government - in direct violation of the Dayton accord.

Pressure groups formed by refugees from "cleansed" areas have demanded answers from IFOR and the Bosnian government. They want to know what really happened to all the people who disappeared. They want people guilty of war crimes brought to justice.

Gaivna Catic, 37, is a Muslim who grew up in Srebrenica, one of the most notorious of towns captured and "cleansed" by the Bosnian Serbs. Thousands of Muslim men were rounded up. U.N. investigators think most were slaughtered. Mr. Catic had left the town for work before the war, but all of his relatives still lived there.

"The survivors of Srebrenica suffer from the same trouble," he said through a translator. "I went to a doctor because I can't sleep well. The fact is that I can't find out the exact number of my family that is still alive. . . . I want answers."

Ne rat, ne mir

In post-Dayton Bosnia, many think the peace accord was so flawed that war will flare up as soon as NATO leaves. A brooding pessimism prevails as people struggle through a world of "ne rat, ne mir" - not war, not peace.

Despite a series of international meetings to solve problems with the accord (held in Rome, Geneva, Moscow, London, Paris and Brussels so far), the pact appears to be running into more problems. Dayton appears only to have halted an unfinished war, not healed its wounds or mended its devastation.

On the approach to suburban Sarajevo from the southwest, a blue sign announces "Dobro Dosli Sarajevo" - Welcome to Sarajevo. This sign carries the mountain crest of the city. It was put up during the 1984 Winter Olympics, the proudest moment in the city's history. Today, the sign is riddled with bullet holes. The Serb cross has been scratched into one side. Farther toward downtown, past the airport, a wall is covered with now-famous English graffiti: "Welcome to hell."

Many Bosnians hoped these signposts would become artifacts of the nation's tragedy, mementos of a sad past, but marks of something finished. Now they worry that they are signs of the future.

Alija Osmankovic, 55, spoke to The Enquirer while trying on a new prosthetic leg. His right leg was blown off below the knee by rocket shrapnel while he was fighting for the Bosnian government in central Bosnia.

"This war has not stopped yet," he said through a translator. "It's just waiting."

Published April 21, 1996

Next story



 
Search | Questions/help | News tips | Letters to the editors
Web advertising | Place a classified | Subscribe | Circulation

Copyright 1995-2000. The Cincinnati Enquirer, a Gannett Co. Inc. newspaper.
Use of this site signifies agreement to terms of service updated 4/5/2000.