Background: Where paranoia and prejudice rule Kosovo will dissolve into conflict unless peace-building is taken seriously, warns Donald Reeves - An Article By The Church Times 10.07.2009
"IT WAS a warm day in Mitrovica in Kosovo, and café life spilled out on to the pavements. We took a break from a meeting with a non-governmental organisation, Community Building, and stood looking towards the bridge over the river Ibar, which separates the mostly Albanian part of Kosovo from the Kosovo Serbs.
Serbs felt free to stroll over the bridge, though few of them did so, but Albanians crossed at some risk. The bridge was almost deserted: an occasional car, a solitary figure once in a while. Across the bridge two large Serb flags fluttered, and around them in cafés, men, known as "bridge-watchers", observed those who came and went, looking out for unwelcome Albanians, who would then be harassed.
An armoured personnel carrier drove over from the Serb side, guns swivelling, followed by a platoon of French soldiers marching in close formation. The platoon immediately disbanded. The soldiers lit up cigarettes and shambled out of sight. No one paid attention. Our Albanian and Serb Kosovo friends smiled wanly.
In 1999, these soldiers from KFOR, the international security force, had provided vital protection to both sides. The smiles indicated ambivalence towards them. Protection remained necessary, a reassurance, but it was no solution to the political impasse.
I asked a foreign diplomat why it is that Serb flags were permitted to fly. Kosovo is an independent democratic state, pledged to honour the rights of minorities. He answered: "Mitrovica is the front line. Try to take those flags down, and you will have a bullet in your head, and the flags would be up again in minutes."
North of the Ibar, Kosovo Serbs look to Belgrade. They have their own institutions, hospitals, and schools, and their own phone network and car registrations; so bridge-watchers can identify who is crossing. Above all, they continue to speak Serbian. Two main languages are spoken in Kosovo, and they bear no relationship to each other.
Kosovo Serbs cannot accept the loss of their country; so, north of the Ibar they consider still part of Serbia. It does not belong to the new country Kosovo, which they do not recognise anyway.
The UN and several international organisations are present. Serbia tolerates the situation, and allows criminals, basically two clans, run of the region. It is a no man's land for governments. The international presence can be no more than a passive gesture. South of the Ibar, Kosovo Albanians look to Prishtina.
The situation represents the impotence of the international community. For all the rhetoric of one nation, it looks as if partition is the reality.
Impotence is hardly the word to describe the intervention of NATO ten years ago. Seventy-eight days of intensive bombing of Belgrade from March to June 1999 ended with the capitulation of Slobodan Milosevic, the President of Serbia. Then 50,000 troops were deployed: one soldier for every 42 Kosovans.
Kosovo is roughly the size of Cornwall and Devon together. The European Union, the Organization for Security and Co-operation in Europe, and the UN completed the trio of international organisations, whose task was, in the words of the then secretary-general of the UN, Kofi Annan, "to help the people in Kosovo rebuild their lives and to heal wounds of conflict".
Kosovo was left without any instruments of governance, no security, no functioning public services, a collapsed economy, and a colossal refugee problem. During the conflict, 90 per cent of Kosovo Albanians had fled their homes. Now they were returning.
So what seem to have been unlimited resources were made available. At its peak, the UN employed 6000 people. The EU was the big spender: £1.8 billion went on economic assistance, and, over four years, £2.6 billion on administrative costs. An army of consultants, bureaucrats, technicians, and NGOs descended on Prishtina. Eventually an infrastructure emerged. Plans to privatise public institutions were put in place, and border arrangements were finalised.
Missing from all this activity over ten years has been any political will to integrate the minorities into this new nation, which was declared independent in February 2008. Kosovo Serbs are adamant that this new status has been inflicted upon them.
Kosovo Serb communities exist insulated from their Kosovo Albanian neighbours. This is particularly true of those monasteries and convents surrounded by Kosovo Albanians. Two of these are the 13th-century convent at Pec, which is the ancient seat of the Serb Orthodox Patriarchate, and the 14th-century monastery at Decani (Comment, 22 June 2007).
Both are endangered World Heritage Sites, and are significant for cultural and religious reasons not only to Serbia and Eastern Orthodoxy, but also to European Christianity. These and other monasteries and churches in Kosovo represent everything pre-cious to Serb culture and identity. Take these away from Serbia, and, as I was told: "We will be nothing."
Armed guards protect the monasteries. Approaching the Pec Patriarchate, I was stopped by an Italian army captain, who asked firmly but politely: "Are you carrying any weapons?" Possibly my cassock concealed a revolver. Several checkpoints later, we entered the convent, where about 20 mostly elderly nuns live modestly, surrounded by some of the most magnificent frescos ever painted.
The nuns welcomed us warmly, speaking of their apprehensions and poor relations with the municipality.
"Freedom is eternity," sighed the Mother Superior, a strong-minded frail woman in her 80s, gazing upwards in response to my question how it felt to be a virtual prisoner.
Each week, a priest arrives from Belgrade, a day's journey away, to celebrate the liturgy. Otherwise, the sisters are left to themselves, and spend the time praying, guiding the few visitors who take the trouble to come (mostly soldiers from the KFOR troops), and looking after each other as best they can.
Eight miles up the road is the monastery of Decani. Again, we had to run the gauntlet of heavily armed Italian troops before entering another small estate, consisting of a jewel-like church enclosed by living quarters, workshops, and cattle sheds. Thirty monks, who are mostly young and energetic, worship at frequent intervals. They manage a farm with dairy and orchards. They offer hospitality to all who come, never stinting in time and attention. This generous welcome is exceptional, given the stressful circumstances in which they live, perpetually afraid of attack.
The purpose of our visit to Pec and Decani was to measure the degree of interest among the nuns and monks to integrate with the mostly Kosovo Albanian municipalities. Were they prepared to relate to their neighbours, or were they cutting themselves off, determined to continue being part of Serbia, and not the new country that surrounded them?
We met the Muslim mayor of Pec, who was delighted: "I cannot understand why the nuns feel so isolated," he said. "It is not necessary." The Muslim mayor of Decani told us of his chief problem: 13,000 unemployed people in his municipality. He wanted to develop business and tourism. He understood that his plans threatened to disturb the peace and traditions of the famous monastery, but was prepared to compromise.
The Abbot of Decani told us later:
"They don't want us here. They do not understand the holiness of this place."
But both sides have invited the Soul of Europe to create opportunities where Serb Orthodox Kosovo Serbs and Muslim Kosovo Albanians can begin to meet and talk.
Meeting each other is essential. Because of the way the Kosovo Serbs are isolated, there is paranoia, fuelled by mutual demonising. The monks feel threatened by terrorists lurking in the thick woods surrounding the monastery, and a grenade recently thrown over the monastery walls did not ease their apprehension. The mayors feel that the monks are arrogant and not prepared to compromise.
Whatever the reality, this is how each side perceives the other, and this has to be the starting point for any mediation. We learned this even before we arrived in Kosovo. From both sides, friends warned us: "You can't trust them. Take care. Don't believe what they say."
So our first task has been to begin a slow process of trying to dismantle the fear each has of the other, so that eventually they can recognise the needs of the other. Unless this situation is addressed, the "peace" that the massive international intervention of people and money brought about will be no more than a mirage. The situation is tense and precarious. One incident can (and often does) trigger a wave of violence.
It is short-sighted and wrong to leave peace-building initiatives to small under-resourced organisations, such as the Soul of Europe. Peace-building, not just peace-keeping, must be built into any strategy for intervention from the start. International institutions such as the EU regard peace-building as too difficult to quantify.
It is even regarded as potentially disruptive because the building up of working relationships between former enemies is risky. Mistakes will be made. The process can unravel. This is why some international organisations describe peace-building as "beyond their capacity". But that is no excuse. There is no excuse at all for allowing paranoia, prejudice, and fear to ruin the lives of individuals and communities.
The events of 1999 have dropped into the black hole of our consciousness. The pictures of Tony and Cherie Blair striding through the lines of Kosovo Albanians in refugee camps in Macedonia seem to belong to another age. But Kosovo must not be forgotten. Unless peace-building takes place at every level, the cycle of conflict will begin all over again. "
REPORTS will be posted on as the peace building process develops...
UPDATE NOVEMBER 2009
In June this year the Soul of Europe was promised funding for the Monasteries project. Unfortunately this promise was not kept. And we are busy fundraising again. Our project manager in Pristina has completed an application form for a substantial grant for the European commission.. If this succeeds this will be a better way to proceed. Kreshnik Sylejmani will be the Project director(Soul of Europe - Kosovo). And the Soul of Europe (UK) will be Consultants,although the project cannot happen without us.
We will anyhow delay the start of the project until the New Year because there are local elections in November.,in Kosovo. This gives us time to continue fundraising.
Peter Pelz and Donald Reeves will be going to Serbia and Kosovo on November 23rd for 7 days. The purpose of this journey is to touch base with the Serbian Orthodox Patriarchate,meet potential funders and also secure a partnership with an International NGO,who are very positive about about our proposals.. We shall then go to Prishtina for 2 days to meet our Project Manager and continue to prepare the project.
IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO CONTRIBUTE TO THE MONASTERIES PROJECT PLEASE CONTACT DONALD REEVES.
EVERY PENNY HELPS.