A Hint of Spring in The Balkan Tangle

By Bruce W. Nelan

Hundreds of pale, war-fatigued Sarajevans turned out to cheer when their familiar red streetcars went back into service. Their daily lives had long been framed by falling shells, and the friendly clanging of the trams sounded like a hint of peace, a bit of normality now that a NATO ultimatum had silenced the Serbian siege guns. The streetcars must have carried the same symbolism to Serb soldiers staring down from the hills around the city: last week a sniper fired into one of the jammed cars and wounded a passenger, and 12 people were killed elsewhere in the city.

By any standard, this is not a peace or even the cease-fire Serbs and Muslims agreed to in Sarajevo on Feb. 10. Nevertheless, the combatants may have taken the first serious steps in a Bosnian peace process last week. Diplomats began talking hopefully about finding an end to the 23-month war in Bosnia and Herzegovina. The complementary pressures of Washington and Moscow appeared to be nudging their respective clients toward accommodation. A tide seemed to be turning as zeal for warfare ebbed and attention flowed toward crafting a negotiated settlement.

Last week every faction was talking to someone. In Sarajevo the Bosnian government and Serb rebels agreed to open some roads to civilian traffic in and out of the city. In Belgrade Serbs and Croats announced that they would begin negotiating a formal settlement of the war they fought in Croatia in 1991, which left almost a quarter of Croatia in Serbian hands.

In Washington Bosnian and Croatian leaders signed two documents to establish a Bosnian federation and link it to Croatia. Real peace in Bosnia, said Secretary of State Warren Christopher, is "a ways down the road," but he hoped these pacts would "provide the basis for a larger political settlement, which must also include the Bosnian Serbs."

The federation agreement is both complex and incomplete. It provides for a merger of the Croat and Muslim areas of Bosnia under a strong central government and for a system of cantons with their own legislatures and courts. Bosnia's President, Alija Izetbegovic, and Croatia's Franjo Tudjman thought enough of the plan to fly to Washington to sign the papers linking their two countries. But what the arrangement does not cover is almost as important: the Serbs and the 72% of the territory of Bosnia and Herzegovina they occupy.

President Bill Clinton, looking pleased at having some good news to report, presided over the ceremony and found it "a moment of hope." His flowing phrases and lavish praise for a host of negotiators ended with a quote from a 19th century Balkan poet, Ivan Jukic, who wrote, "Only those are heroes who know how to live with their brothers." Like Christopher, Clinton hoped "the Serbs will join in this effort for a wider peace. We invite them and urge them to do so." Bosnian Serb leader Radovan Karadzic shrugged, saying Croats and Muslims can "decide the way they want to live" as long as it is not a threat to the Serbs. Momcilo Krajisnik, head of the Bosnian Serb legislature, dismissed the federation as "an unnatural creation" that would not work.

It certainly faces serious obstacles. Izetbegovic wants a federation of Muslims and Croats encompassing at least half of Bosnia, which means the Serbs would have to relinquish a fair share of their holdings. Several areas Izetbegovic most insistently wants back lie along the Drina River near the border with Serbia, a region the Serbs have swept with ruthless "ethnic cleansing" and are determined to keep.

While the U.S. has been prodding the Bosnian Croats and Muslims toward agreement, Moscow has been working on the Serbs. Russia's special envoy Vitali Churkin went to Belgrade to urge Serbian President Slobodan Milosevic to look carefully at the Muslim-Croat federation. Churkin said he found Milosevic "flexible and constructive." That may be because the Serb leader is feeling the pinch of U.N.-enforced economic sanctions -- more than half the work force is effectively unemployed -- and fearful that Croatia, no longer preoccupied with Bosnia, might divert its armed forces to the Krajina front.

Even if he finds a deal he can accept, Milosevic will have to lean on Bosnian Serbs, especially militia leaders, who view the Muslim-Croat plan as nothing more than an alliance uniting the Serbs' enemies. Rather than join a federation tied to Croatia, the Bosnian Serbs are far more likely to hold out for a republic of their own with links to Serbia -- Greater Serbia in effect, if not in name.

Although skepticism is still in order, a senior official in Washington called the week's developments "a visible sign of momentum." He referred not only to the negotiations but also to the U.N.-brokered arrangement to open roads and bridges in Sarajevo beginning this week. The deal is wrapped tightly in cumbersome conditions. Both the Bosnian government and the Serbs encircling Sarajevo will have to approve -- or veto -- each traveler's plans in advance. Vehicles must have a U.N. escort. Military movement on the roads is banned and so are commercial trucks, leaving the city still dependent on U.N. humanitarian shipments. Still, it does provide the first chance in almost two years for ordinary Sarajevans to leave the city and travel to other parts of the country. In spite of occasional sniper fire, they have already seized on the cease-fire's relative quiet to go out, shop, relax in parks and cafes.

Some Bosnians fear that the opening of a few exit doors will advance Serb plans to partition the capital rather than reunite it. They believe the Serbs may "cleanse" their areas by allowing only Muslims to leave, and vice versa. The result could be a factional rearrangement of the multiethnic city. U.N. officials admit that this kind of hardening of the Muslim-Serb lines is a possibility. Says one: "There is nothing in the agreement about reunifying the city."

The international focus is on keeping up the diplomatic pace. American envoy Charles Redman plans to sit down with Bosnian and Croat leaders to decide how much territory they will ask the Serbs to cede and what relationship the Serbs will have with their motherland. The Bosnian Serbs have been backing away from their previous willingness to hand over enough land to provide the Muslims and Croats with 50% of the country.

It will be difficult for anyone to uproot Serb warlords from the areas they now control or to open the way for former Muslim residents to return. The U.S. and its allies are still unwilling to use force, despite the apparent success of their ultimatum to halt the shelling of Sarajevo and their attack on four Serbian aircraft earlier this month. Moscow is pushing the Serbs, but it may not be willing to shove. "I have carrots for everybody," said Russia's Churkin last week. "I don't use sticks." At best, the Bosnians may someday get back half of their country. They will also have lost half of it.

With reporting by James L. Graff/Vienna, John Kohan/Moscow and J.F.O. McAllister/Washington