Priština, Kosovo -- The capital city was oddly quiet a week and a half ago, as United Nations Special Envoy Marrti Ahtisaari met with Serbian and Kosovar Albanian leaders to present his much-anticipated plan to end the UN Mission in Kosovo (UNMIK) and provide a framework for the area's future status. Billboards had appeared in Priština several days earlier proclaiming "Kosovo welcomes its future," and a protest organization had been busy for weeks stirring up anti-UNMIK sentiments. But when the former Finnish President finally arrived, nobody showed up either to welcome him or to protest.
The reaction reflects the ambivalence and pessimism that now permeate the region. For years, the Kosovar Albanian majority has sought independence for the Serbian province just as fervently as the Serbs have insisted that Kosovo is the ancestral homeland of their nation. But even though Ahtisaari's plan firmly opens the door for Kosovo to declare its independence -- giving Kosovo the right to seek membership in international organizations -- and even though Kosovar Albanian media and politicians have welcomed the plan, the popular reaction has been hesitant and skeptical.
The Albanians simply no longer have any confidence in the UN. The province has been under UN administration since air strikes pushed Serbian forces out of Kosovo in 1999, but the economy has remained stagnant, corruption is rife, and peace is tenuously maintained only as a result of the presence of 16,500 NATO troops.
Ahtisaari's program does offer some prospects for improvement, such as increasing access to and strengthening a diverse and impartial justice system, boosting symbols of national identity intended to unify Kosovo's multi-ethnic population, and restructuring the professional military in an effort to avoid creating another reincarnation of the Kosovo Liberation Army (KLA). (Although Ahtisaari announced that he will hold additional meetings to receive feedback, the understanding is that "this document is final," in the words of a member of the Kosovar Albanian negotiation team.)
Many Albanians who spoke to the Prospect sounded notes of I'll-believe-it-when-I-see-it caution. "If this is full independence, then, yes, it is good" said one former KLA soldier in a typical reaction. But many people do have doubts about the vision of Kosovo laid out in Ahtisaari's plan. Provisions for a European Union-headed International Civilian Office (ICO) to replace UNMIK call for an ICO authority that will have the final say on all judicial, security, and legislative matters. The Albanian Kosovars are confident that the United States and NATO would wield this power fairly, but they are not equally confident about Europe.
"If America does not lose in Iraq or Iran," Fadil Krasniqi, an Albanian from Priština, explained, "then it will remain the world's police. That will be good for us. If America loses, then we will be at the mercy of Europe, which does not look out for our interests." Albanians generally believe that European powers have marginalized and divided them ever since the end of World War I, when the borders of the new Albanian state failed to include a large portion of the region's Albanian speaking population. Stemming from this perception, UNMIK, as well as the future ICO, is seen as an extension of Europe's colonial tradition. The United States, in contrast, has a small representation in UNMIK, and is seen as having proved itself an ally and friend, primarily through NATO.
For Albanians, another primary cause for concern is the creation of six new or expanded Serb-controlled municipalities and a special status for Serbian religious sites. The plan, many foresee, will institutionalize ethnic divisions rather than bridge them.
"For now cooperation is impossible," said an Albanian from Mitrovica, a city bitterly divided between Serbs and Albanians that has been a flash point for violence, "but in the future there is a possibility." In his view, though, Ahtisaari's proposal to divide Mitrovica along its ethnic boundary into two separate municipalities would be a "disaster" for future unity.
Indeed, one does not need to look far to see the potential dangers of dividing political power along ethnic lines. The Dayton Accords that ended the war in Bosnia Herzegovina in 1995 established a Serb Republic within Bosnia with a parallel and autonomous power structure. To this day it is nearly impossible for the country as a whole to build consensus. A 2005 European Union report on Bosnia's progress noted that efforts to transition to a market economy "suffer from complex government structures, fragmented policymaking and by a lack of resources and qualified staff." Economic stagnation has led many to see little hope in the future. Though it's unlikely Kosovo's future will be quite as bleak, Bosnia serves as a warning that dividing ethnic groups physically and politically may not foster a productive economy and successful society.
Conversations with individual Albanians, Serbs, Roma, and other members of Kosovo's minority communities reveal a common agreement that what Kosovo needs most of all is more jobs. (A popular joke in Kosovo is that it is not hard for Serbs and Albanians to work together, as long as they are dealing with stolen cars or illegal drugs.) The broader implication is that promoting economic development and general prosperity is the surest way to achieve Ahtisaari's goal of transforming Kosovo into a viable, multiethnic, democratic state.
Despite billions of dollars of investment, the IMF estimated in 2004 that 30 percent of Kosovo's active labor force is unemployed, and the average worker earns slightly more than 200 dollars a month. Many people believe that the low wages of public officials, healthcare providers, and educators are partly responsible for the high levels of corruption in the public sector. The paucity of jobs has also created an "internal brain drain"-- people with advanced degrees often work as security guards and drivers.
What has prevented economic development, argues Besa Shahini, the executive director of the Kosovar Initiative for Stability, a local think tank, is that investment has largely ignored the areas that would ensure sustainable development -- notably education and agriculture. Instead, short-term policy objectives have driven investment. In particular, to prepare Kosovo for "final status," UNMIK directed funds toward attaining "European standards" for governance, media, and human rights.
The lack of final status has served as a convenient excuse for Kosovo's government to avoid taking responsibility for the economic crisis and corruption. According to a senior UNMIK political advisor, the current political leadership does not have the capability to face these challenges even with an independent state. The many politicians and officials implicated in scandals or war crimes have faced minimal repercussions mainly as a result of the party-based system that runs through the judiciary, executive, and legislative institutions of Kosovo's government. A recent survey cites a typical example of the pernicious effects of this system: "[W]hen the opposition in the Kosovo Assembly asked that a commission be formed to investigate an apparently dubious inter-ministerial transfer of funds, the parliamentarians representing the parties in government simply outvoted the proposal and the commission was never formed."
Kosovo's road to unity, prosperity, and full independence remains uncertain and arduous. This past Saturday, a radical protest organization demanding immediate, full independence, Vetevendosje (Self-Determination), organized a protest against Ahtisaari's plan that ended in violence. According to UN police, two protesters died from their injuries and over seventy people were taken to the hospital, including eight police officers. Vetevendosje compared the excessive use of force to treatment from Serbian police before 1999, a comparison that could cultivate a more hostile attitude towards the UN among Kosovo's wider population.
As of now, diplomats here seem confident that the UN Security Council will adopt Ahtisaari's program despite threats of a veto from Serbia's supporter, Russia. Then there will be a transition period of 120 days, when Kosovo's Parliament must approve a Constitution and create the legal framework for implementing the plan. This critical phase may come as soon as this spring, but, as clashes become more prominent, nobody is sure of the outcome. The majority of the population is only cautiously hopeful that their lives will improve, even if the political uncertainties are resolved and a more-or-less independent Kosovo finally takes its place among the nations of Europe.
Olivia Starr is the head curator of an interactive children's museum in Kosovo. She is also working on expanding her thesis, "The Unimagined City: Urban Development and Historical Identity in Priština," into a book.
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