End of Romanticism

Two buses stopped at dawn next to one another at the Kelebija border crossing into Hungary. One bus had Pristina plates, the other was from Belgrade. In spite of the bad light, the differences were apparent immediately. The passengers from Kosovo were dressed in the eastern fashion, and some were travelling with their entire families and children. The passengers in the Belgrade bus were mostly in European dress and alone. The passengers of both buses were predominantly young and their faces showed concern and impatience.

The Pristina bus was bound for Sweden, where a paradise allegedly awaits asylum seekers, while the Belgrade bus was headed for Budapest airport, from where the passengers would later go on to western European cities and fly across the oceans. These scenes are repeated nightly. Serbs and ethnic Albanians live alongside each other, but not together. They emigrate in much the same manner - and at the same time, but in different directions.

The dispersal of a nation is the greatest loss for a national leader. Lacking personal aspirations, they continually repeat that they only wish to save the people from "being biologically endangered", from "genocide" and "the danger of extinction." The leaders of the two largest nations in the rump Yugoslavia have not succeeded in this, as proved by the hundreds of thousands of Serbian and ethnic Albanian youths who have left the country in the last few years. Fleeing from one's nation has become a mass occurrence. As always, the ones leaving are the ones who stand to gain the most and lose the least.

Slododan Milosevic and Ibrahim Rugova are in a tight spot. Not only because their countrymen are leaving them by fleeing abroad, but because the repertoire of rhetorical pirouettes and symbolical political gestures with which they could mesmerize them, has been depleted. Promises, threats, oaths and curses have all been used up. After all that has happened in the former Yugoslavia and especially in Kosovo, they have been left with the choice of reconciliation or massacres.

In accepting Yugoslav Prime Minister Milan Panic's proffered hand, Rugova has, regardless of his final goals, proved himself a statesman who recognizes realistic political options when he sees them. At this moment he could lose the war. By not resisting Panic's embrace at the press conference in Pristina, Rugova has temporarily managed to tear himself out of Milosevic's lethal clinch.

The American intellectual journal "The New Yorker" described Rugova, not without respect, as a man who could talk with foreign journalists unshaved and wearing torn socks. His pathetic stance and trade mark shawl accentuate his fragility and aesthetic drabness, entreat pity and sympathy. On the other hand, the Serbian leader's impersonal clerk's suit and dull tie aim at leaving the impression of a serious and strict partner who must be respected for his strength.

Rugova sloughed off his fragility on October 15 when he met with Panic, for what might prove to be a historical meeting. He even allowed himself the luxury of speaking Serbo-Croatian, and showed a better knowledge of grammar than the Californian Serb.

At the moment, frail Rugova is certainly the stronger partner. The start of fighting in Kosovo would mark the end of any hopes for the survival of a Yugoslavia, as far as the federal leadership is concerned. War in Kosovo cannot benefit the Serbian President because he has not exhausted all possibilities for staying in power without open violence.

On the other hand, Rugova's eventual attempt at achieving his goal without delay - at seceding Kosovo - is possible only by violence and leads into a chasm. Currently Rugova has a tactical advantage, but viewed strategically and on a long-term basis, Rugova can be helped only by Cosic and Panic. Milosevic, might, when he hits the bottom in Belgrade, try to set Kosovo on fire. Rugova is aware of this, the experience of Yugoslavia points to it.

The West has decided that Wilson's and Lenin's principle on the right of a nation to self-determination conceived at the beginning of the century, has come to mean at its end that the disintegration of a multi-national community must not spread across the borders of its former constituent parts. Otherwise, the confusing situation in the East and in Eastern Europe could lead to chaos and the "civilized world" could be sucked into the whirlpool.

This stand is neither more nor less rational than was the long-term adherence to the principle of the state's territorial integrity, including multi-national federations. It is conditional to the relation of current political forces and dependent on them, subject to changes. All know that Bosnia-Herzegovina will never become a united and independent state. One day it will admit this fact, but not right now. In the same way as they wrote off Yugoslavia when the vector of forces for and against it changed.

Rugova knows that the same principle holds true for Kosovo. The West can prohibit Serbia from annexing territories in Croatia and Bosnia-Herzegovina only for so long as its territorial integrity remains intact. This is why Greek Prime Minister Constantin Mitsotakis told the German daily "SieDeutsche Zeitung" that the "Albanians in Kosovo must not be encouraged towards independence, just as the independence of Serbs in Croatia must not be approved." The secession of Kosovo in the south with "compensation" to Serbia with new territories in the west is inconceivable, at least for the moment.

Rugova is perfectly aware of this chain in which, as he put it, "the just demands of the Kosovo Albanians" could perish. Rugova told the "Daily Telegraph" that "if Kosovo accepts autonomy, the matter will be finished, and we don't want that." Negotiations with the Federal Government ensure the West's attention and favor. Their outcome is unforeseeable, but everything is better than the current reckless rushing into war. The Bosnian experience has shown what happens to the militarily weaker side.

Rugova is conscious of the disaster which befell the Muslims in Bosnia-Herzegovina. The foreign military intervention which Alija Izetbegovic believed would come about, did not; because as U.S. Chief of General Staff Colin Powell repeats ceaselessly, it is not clear what political goals would be achieved by a military operation. Many might find the "New York Times" slogan "Bomb Serbia" attractive, but it does not answer the question "and then what?" Perhaps the author of the article in the "New York Times" really believes it when he says that the idea is not just to punish the Serbian leaders, but show them that only an ironing out of conflicts can avert further suffering.

In spite of this, there are no doubts, however, that mass attacks by the Yugoslav Army against ethnic Albanian settlements would result in immediate U.S. air strikes against targets in Serbia. What would be left after the war? Serbia's infrastructure would be destroyed and Kosovo torched and devastated. What would prevent Kosovo's population from fleeing massively to Albania? Probably only high snow drifts if war came before the winter set

in. What would prevent the Croats and Muslims in Bosnia-Herzegovina from trying to take advantage of the war in southern Serbia, and striking? Certainly not the presence of the United Nations Protection Force in Yugoslavia (UNPROFOR). The apocalyptic consequences of war in Kosovo are endless.

If Rugova is thinking of the fireball which could stir up an armed insurgency among ethnic Albanians in Kosovo, then he is a very worried man. If he proves to be reckless, he will repeat Alija Izetbegovic's adventure and unpreparedness to "sacrifice Bosnia-Herzegovina's sovereignty for peace." By opting for dialogue with Panic, Rugova might only be showing that he is not ready for war, but even this is more reasonable than what Bosnia-Herzegovina's President did.

There is a factor which slows down but does not stop the ethnic Albanians' growing passion for total independence and unification with Albania. It seems that Albania does not have the same wishes, at least not at this moment. Judging by statements to foreign political observers who visited the country recently, the Albanian society has disintegrated. Political, economic, cultural and other institutions have mostly disappeared. Only long-term foreign aid can help Albania stand up on its own again. It is debatable if the necessary aid could be secured if the priority national goal is one of unification with Kosovo, the achievement of which would entail war with neighboring countries.

Kosovo's economy and level of civilization are far ahead of Albania. It would be a union of unequal partners, and everybody knows how such marriages end.

Nationalism, like pre-marital love, is romantic. This is especially true of the Balkans where national collective psychologies include a strong inferiority complex with regard to Central and Western Europe. These complexes are compensated by romantic illusions of "historical grandness", "nobleness" and the "goodness" of one's own nation which is permanently threatened by dangers from outside. Journalism has long defined nationalism as a cross between an individual inferiority complex and a collective mania of greatness.

Rugova the poet is a romanticist. If he tries his luck as a realpolitik politician, he will lose his poet's aureole and will have to discard his shawl, thus spoiling his image. He will have to start bargaining over the limits of autonomy for ethnic Albanians. He will become prosaic, but he will also become a modern politician.