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THE ECONOMIST FEBRUARY 11 1995


INTERNATIONAL -- Can peacekeeping survive? -- NEW YORK

    The world will not allow the horrors of Rwanda to be repeated in
Burundi, suggests Boutros Boutros-Ghali, the United Nations'
secretary-general.  Really?  Such a development would be precisely
the sort of thing that the UN Security Council is not, in these
chastened times, prepared to do much about. if the political
mission dispatched to Burundi this week fails to avert a tragedy,
the UN is unlikely to be able to raise the men or the money or the
political will to take on ethnic fighting, let alone genocide, in a
small remote country of no strategic or economic importance to the
larger powers.

    The UN can still send its men, under America's urging and wing, to
Haiti. It has also agreed to send them to Angola, a country the
superpowers long fought over -- but will bring them back if war breaks
out again. The blown-up vision of the UN'S interventionist powers,
born as the cold war died, has long since been punctured.

    Current operations, the vast, tottering mission to ex-Yugoslavia
apart, reflect these deflated ambitions.  Most of them are small-
scale, and some are gestures only.  To try to hold Sierra Leone
together, Mr Boutros-Ghaii can send no more than an envoy. When 60
governments were asked for troops to police Rwandan refugee camps,
the response was so pitiful that the job had to be left to luck and
the Zairean army.  Trouble, the UN hopes, will be dealt with by the
neighbours -- the Russians in Georgia, the West Africans in Liberia
-- with the UN saving its money if not its reputation by restricting
itself to casual supervision.

    The UN'S peacekeeping chiefs have written a sober follow-up to
the "Agenda for Peace", the document produced in 1992 on the crest of
the interventionist wave.  Peacekeeping and peace-enforcement are not,
they now argue, "adjacent points on a continuum, permitting easy
transition from one to the other." This is their polite way of
pinpointing the Security Council's hypocrisy in ordering, and
equipping, missions to keep a peace, or provide humanitarian relief,
while blurrily hoping that a politically correct solution will somehow
be enforced. The council's dodge of calling for "robust" rules of
engagement is no substitute for giving UN soldiers the tools, and
instructions, to do what needs to be done.

    Retrenchment is plainly in demand.  But talk of the UN returning
to its "traditional" role -- which was largely the monitoring of
ceasefires between ex-combatant states -- is meaningless: the world
seldom fights in that way nowadays (with Ecuador and Peru providing
an old-fashioned exception). Of the 11 UN operations started since
January 1992, all but two related to domestic conflicts, drawing the
peacekeepers into the unmapped labyrinth of guerrilla warfare,
collapsed state institutions and belligerents who do not want their
quarrel resolved.

    The UN is learning to do some untraditional, but also unwarlike,
things rather well: organising elections and training policemen, for
instance. it also tries, though so far without much success, to
persuade ex-soldiers to give up their arms.  But where, in all this
neat line-drawing between peacekeeping and peace-enforcement, does the
big grey area of humanitarian intervention, or the guarding of relief
convoys, fit in?

    This is the rub in planning to give an exhausted UN time off. The
world's villains, planning mass murder or land grabs, will not oblige.
They may even seize the opportunity.  And if or when atrocities are
brought into the open by CNN, outsiders will become uncomfortable,
demanding once again that something be done.  Governments, passing the
national-interest buck one to another, too often try to do the
minimum.  But moral imperatives pull the other way, and may sometimes
pull decisively.

    Expecting this, the UN peacekeepers in New York are struggling to
make their hit-and-miss operation less fallible.  They have come a
long way since the early days: a headquarters military staff of 116
(though all but 16 of them are on short-term secondment from national
armies); a 24-hour situation room; even a research cell (the UN's
blushing euphemism for intelligence gathering).  But all this newly
acquired professionalism is fatally undermined by the peacekeepers'
inability to get together an equipped force in a hurry.  Before a fire
can be put out, mused one official, the fire station has to be built
from scratch, each time.

    Around 30 governments have given the UN a list of the men and
equipment they could provide in an emergency.  But if their promise is
called, as it was when the UN was trying to collect a force for
Rwanda, they fail to deliver. (We were not asked for the right things,
grumbles one contributor; the UN responds that it was well enough known
what was wanted.) New mechanisms are clearly essential.

    The new agenda for peace calls for a rapid-reaction force, composed
of units drawn from several countries and stationed on home ground but
trained and ready to work together.  The snag still is that national
governments might not, when a crisis arises, allow their units to be
deployed.

    Some UN hands have long argued that the Organisation should have
its own foreign legion, directly under its control.  There would be no
difficulty, the UN says, in staffing such a force: it gets dozens of
applications from would-be mercenaries each week. Opponents of the
idea, who, for one reason or another, include most of the UN'S
members -- the Dutch are an exception -- pile on the difficulties:
how, for instance, would the UN find the money for training, housing
and pensioning its soldiers?  More to the point, governments are
scared of control passing to the UN'S secretary-general -- even
though he would act only under orders from the Security Council.

    The UN rather hopes that the bogey of a foreign legion may impel
its members to search for lesser -- though still good -- alternatives.
The Canadians, for instance, have organised a series of conferences
this winter and spring to generate, or ventilate, new thoughts. Ideas
include:

     * Countries that have trained, equipped and available units, but
hate the prospect of being bogged down, could send their men swiftly
to an emergency in the knowledge that they would be replaced after
four to six months by a smaller power.

     * A big and a small country could work in tandem, one providing
the equipment and the other the men.

     * Countries, such as Japan and Germany, with reservations about
contributing armed men, could keep unarmed teams at the ready for
immediate humanitarian relief.

    In the meantime, the UN tries to improve its efficiency by
earmarking troops (which may not, when the crux comes, be available)
and storing supplies rescued from old missions.  Knowing its limits,
it stresses the benefits of preventive action. But diplomacy might
work better, says one official grown cynical, if it were buttered
with a tiny proportion of the money spent on missions when diplomacy
fails.  Pre-conflict bribes may be the notion that best fits these
disillusioned times.

===================================================

THE ECONOMIST FEBRUARY 11 1995

Bosnia -- Good intentions -- SARAJEVO

    One of the few things preventing another outbreak of murderous
violence in Bosnia is the Muslim-Croat federation, an agreement to
pool sovereignty, signed last March by the Bosnian (Muslim)
government and the Bosnian Croats after a year of fighting. It is
surviving, but only just. In Munich on February 5th, after months of
bickering that threatened to undo the agreement, the two sides
undertook to submit their disputes to the binding arbitration of
an international mediator.

    Volunteers for the job are unlikely to apply in droves.  Last
month, monitors from the European Union told their masters
(confidentially) that Muslims and Croats saw the federation "as a
temporary and inadequate solution, an arranged marriage of suspicious
partners." There was a "growing acknowledgment that the practical
reality of co-existence was a thing of the past."

    The biggest problem is that Bosnian Croats are divided over whether
to support the federation.  A majority of them do, arguing that it
helps to counterbalance Serb power and worrying that, if they
attempted to unite with Croatia proper, then some Croats would
inevitably be left behind as a minority in a Muslim state.  They
point out that under the March agreement the federation can ultimately
join Croatia in a loose confederation, which would provide the desired
ties with the homeland.

    But some Hercegovinan Croats think this is not enough.  They want
to preserve their statelet, which they call the "Croatian Republic of
Herceg-Bosna", so that it can become a unit of a greater Croatia that
will, they hope, include much of Hercegovina.  So they oppose the
federation on nationalist grounds.  Ante Pavelic, Croatia's leader in
the Nazi era, came from Hercegovina, which has long been a Croat-
nationalist stronghold.  Hercegovinan Croats are influential in the
Croatian government in Zagreb.  Franjo Tudjman, Croatia's president,
has sometimes favoured carving up Bosnia. But for the pastyear, with
his arm twisted by Germany and America, he has supported the
federation.

    Intransigence by the Hercegovinan Croats did much to undermine last
year's talks on the federation.  The Bosnian Croats would not share
the customs dues they charge on goods entering Bosnia.  They hampered
attempts to resettle the refugees of both sides.  They have also
prevented the reunification of the divided city of Mostar, which they
want for their capital, allowing only women, children and the elderly
to cross the lines separating the Croat and Muslim parts of the city.

    Formally, the federal government already exists, its members
doubling up as ministers of the Bosnian or Herceg-Bosna governments.
The federal parliament has held several meetings but few of its laws
have been implemented.  There are still two legal, fiscal and monetary
systems.  Of the eight new cantons that are supposed to make up the
federation, only one exists. One of the difficulties is that no one
knows how much territory the federation will, ultimately, control.
Another is that the Bosnian government wants a single, integrated
army, while the Croats, who fear being outnumbered, want two armies
under a joint headquarters (which has been set up).

    The Bosnian government wants to maintain the internationally
recognised Republic of Bosnia (with, in theory, its pre-1991 borders)
in perpetuity.  The Croats will not accept that.  "When the federation
is built, the Muslim-dominated republic must cease to exist," says
Jadranko Prlic, president of Herceg-Bosna and deputy prime minister
of the federation.  For their part, the Muslims ask why, if the Croats
believe in a federation, they have conserved their statelet.  Ejup
Ganic, deputy president of the republic and the federation, says the
Muslims will never abandon the republic, whose job is to represent
Bosnia to the outside world.  "The federation cannot become the main
entity without an overall peace," says Mr Ganic.

    Under the terms of the March agreement, Mr Ganic should have taken
on the federation's rotating presidency last month. But Kresimir
Zubak, the Croat incumbent, refused to hand it over on the ground that
Muslims were already president and prime minister of the republic. If
the arbitrator has to sort out such minor rows, how much time will he
have for the real problems?

=======================================================

A Country Captivated
Serbians dazzled as warlord, singer wed

Milwaukee Journal, February 19, 1995

    It has been billed as Serbia's wedding of the century.  Rich,
baby-faced Arkan - Serbia's most prominent warlord - marries Ceca,
a 21-year-old glamour queen and its most popular folk singer.

    It matters not to the legion of breathless fans that much of the
world regards Arkan as one of Serbia's worst war criminals. What
matters about Sunday's ceremony, Serbia's answer to a Hollywood
wedding, is the picture of love, beauty and riches lavishly drawn by
magazine covers and photo spreads.

    They provide an escape from the daily struggle here to get by, as
well as a symbol of Serb nationalism. "They are a perfect couple,"
said housewife Midana Trifunovic.  "Who cares what the world thinks
of Arkan?  They are a picture of Serbian beauty and pride."

    Papers with stories about the couple are sold out, and their
interviews glue people to the TV.

    The couple met when she sang for his Serbian Tigers paramilitary
units.  She also sang for some of his election rallies when he ran for
parliament in 1993.

    Sociologist Danica Spasic regards the public attitude as "mass
disorientation in a time of crisis. People are mixing good and bad
because they elieve in state-run propaganda, which has completely
distorted reality. "Everyone seems to have forgotten who Arkan is, or
where did this money come from, at a time when the majority of Serbs
have daily battles to make ends meet," she said.

    The 42-year-old Arkan's real name is Zeljko Raznatovic, and he has
a criminal record long predating former Yugoslavia's wars.  He is
wanted for armed robbery in Sweden.

    The Tigers have fought in Croatia and Bosnia, spreading fear among
non-Serbs and gaining a reputation for brutality.  Former US Secretary
of State Lawrence Eagleburger identified him as a likely war criminal.
But in Serbia, Arkan is widely revered as hero, a Serb patriot and a
successful businessman.

    Ceca (pronounced Tseh-Tsa), or Svetlana Velickovic, is a superstar
who attracts tens of thousands to concerts of what is known here as
"turbo-folk." The unique mix of traditional Slavic tunes and rock
music helps make Serb nationalism palatable for new listeners.

    The cost of helping Serbs right wars in Croatia and Serbia,
economic mismanagement, and international economic sanctions have
left half of Serbia's work force unemployed and most people
struggling just to survive.

    But there is no sense of limit to this wedding, estimated to cost
half a million dollars. Five hundred people, including politicians,
have been invited to the wedding at Belgrade's Intercontinental hotel.
The menu ranges from caviar and champagne to Serbia's traditional plum
brandy and roast lamb.

    Media reports say a race horse is among the presents Arkan will
lavish on his bride.  The couple are expected to honeymoon in Brazil.
Arkan has seven children from two previous marriages.

    According to Serb tradition, Arkan must shoot an apple in front of
Ceca's house before she can become his wife.  "It makes me nervous,"
Arkan told the weekly Zena.  "Everyone knows I'm not used to shooting
apples."

-----------------------------------------------------------------



"House Republicans, still smarting from a surprising defeat on
the

proposed deployment of a Star Wars missile defense system the day

before, voted Thursday to significantly alter the U.S.

relationship with the UN and foreign governments."



                                         CHICAGO TRIBUNE

                                Copyright Chicago Tribune 1995

DATE: Friday, February 17, 1995    SECTION: NEWS PAGE: 4

                      SOURCE: By Steve Daley, Tribune Staff Writer.
DATELINE: WASHINGTON



             GOP-LED HOUSE VOTES TO LIMIT U.S. ROLE IN UN
PEACEKEEPING



    House Republicans, still smarting from a surprising defeat on
the proposed deployment of a Star Wars missile defense system
the day before, voted Thursday to significantly alter the U.S.
relationship with the UN and foreign governments.   In passing
the national defense plank of its campaign "Contract with
America," the new Republican majority handed President Clinton
what the GOP termed a "mid-course correction" on his foreign
policy.    By a 241-181 margin, and over Clinton's strong
objections, the House voted to require that the UN reimburse the
U.S. for expenses sustained in peacekeeping efforts by deducting
American costs from annual peacekeeping dues.    The House
action would also bar U.S. troops from serving under foreign
command without the assent of Congress, and reduce the U.S.
contribution to the UN peacekeeping budget from approximately 25
percent to 20 percent.    The legislation urges the early
expansion of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization to include
Poland, Hungary and the Czech republics.    Clinton, who insists
the bill signals an ill-advised American retreat from the
international arena, has indicated he will veto the legislation
if it passes the Senate in similar form.    The final count was
41 votes short of the number needed to override a veto, assuming
the same number of members vote. Eighteen Democrats, mostly
Southerners, joined 223 Republicans to vote for it; four
Republicans joined 176 Democrats and one independent to oppose
it.    Sen. Bob Dole of Kansas, the Senate majority leader, has
introduced legislation aimed at limiting U.S. involvement with
UN peacekeeping operations.    Anticipating a veto, White House
spokesman Michael McCurry said, "The bill would end UN
peacekeeping and burden-sharing which helps the U.S. taxpayer by
sharing the costs of important security endeavors . . . around
the world."    Over two days of bitter debate, House Democrats
and a handful of Republicans raised fierce objections to the
bill, arguing it would inhibit legitimate presidential authority
and, in the words of UN Ambassador Madeline Albright, "force the
U.S. to act alone (militarily) or not at all."    Rep. Jim Leach
(R-Iowa) offered an amendment which would have deleted the
portion of the bill that constrained the U.S financial
contribution to the UN. But he was joined by only six
Republicans, and his proposal was defeated, 267-158.    Rep. Lee
Hamilton (D-Ind.), former chairman of the House Foreign Affairs
Committee, said the legislation "strikes at the heart of the
president's authority to protect our national security and to
conduct American foreign policy."    "This legislation reverses
one half-century of American leadership," said Rep. Robert
Torricelli (D-N.J.). "We are losing our leadership to
isolationism."    Republicans contend they are simply reflecting
public disaffection with UN operations in recent years, and
reacting to a broader public concern that America is
surrendering its military autonomy in the post-Cold War era.
"This is an America-comes-first policy," said Rep. Dana
Rohrbacher (R-Calif.). "The American people will not stand for
the military adventurism of a liberal elite."    According to UN
figures, the U.S. was assessed $1.1 billion in peacekeeping
costs in 1994, with UN expenditures set at $3.5 billion.
Republicans insist the U.S. has been subjected to
"double-billing" for peacekeeping costs.    Thursday's action
was set against a backdrop of fundamental party differences over
foreign policy, and the results were indicative of the growing
nationalist sentiment inside the GOP, particularly among younger
House members.    In their "Contract," Republicans maintain that
Democrats have "undermined" the American military and ceded U.S.
sovereignty to multinational groups.    Throughout the 1980s,
congressional Republicans accused Democrats of attempting to
inject themselves in U.S. foreign policy under GOP presidents in
Grenada, Panama and other areas.    But many Republicans were
outraged by the U.S.-UN partnership brokered by Clinton last
year in his attempt to restore the Aristide government in Haiti.
And recent UN military activities in Somalia and Bosnia, actions
widely regarded as failures, have further soured the public view
of the organization.    But beyond the geopolitical and
constitutional debates, the House action Thursday takes dead aim
at Clinton and his management of foreign policy.    In a
Thursday press conference, House Speaker Newt Gingrich (R-Ga.)
said House Republicans "disagree deeply with the way they (the
Clinton administration) would risk American lives around the
planet."    "This is not this Congress's last word on defense,"
House Majority Leader Richard Armey (R-Texas) said after the
vote.    Late Wednesday, House GOP leaders were shocked when 24
of their members defected to support a Democratic-sponsored
amendment that gutted the portion of the "contract" designed to
deploy a space-based antiballistic missile defense system.
Gingrich has promised to revisit the Star Wars debate, but on
Thursday he backed off any attempt to reverse Wednesday's defeat
when it became clear not enough Republicans were willing to
change their votes.



-----------------------------------------------------------------



    The cease-fire that Carter brokered has never taken effect in

Bihac, the besieged city that prompted his intervention and was
to

have been its main beneficiary. Worse, the Serbs are now
preparing

a similar siege for Srebenica, another of the cruelly misnamed

Bosnian "safe areas."



1995/The Times Mirror Company Los Angeles Times

February 17, 1995, Friday, Home Edition



    False Hopes Only Lead to Tragedy; When will West face reality in

    the Balkans?

SECTION: METRO;  PAGE: B-6 TYPE: Editorial



     In the slow struggle toward peace in the Balkans, true hope
will have to step across the corpses of at least three false
hopes.     The first is that Serbian President Slobodan
Milosevic will seriously assist in restraining the Serb
militants of Bosnia or Croatia. Milosevic, breaking past
promises, has continued to supply the Serb rebels in both
countries by air as well as by land. Incredibly, in view of this
record, the U.N. Security Council--prompted by the five-power
"Contact Group," which includes the United States--may soon
suspend its economic sanctions against Yugoslavia in exchange
for a new promise by Milosevic to stop breaking his old promises
and, in addition, to recognize the nations he has been trying to
dismember. Milosevic will violate the new commitments as he did
the old.



     RUSSIAN SAVAGERY: The second false hope is that Russia will
bring Serbia to the negotiating table. Russia and Serbia are
linked, historically, by their adherence to Eastern Orthodox
Christianity. Unfortunately, Russia's response to the Chechen
uprising, a Muslim revolt within its own borders, implies only
approval for Serb treatment of Bosnia's Muslims. The Russian
siege of Grozny exceeds in violence the Serb siege of Sarajevo.
Like the Serbs, but with greater savagery, the Russians have
directly attacked Muslim civilians.     Russia's action has
endangered a crucial $6-billion loan from the International
Monetary Fund and awakened Islamic militancy along Russia's
southern border, but in Russia as in Serbia economic and
diplomatic considerations have been swept aside by chauvinist
militarism.     The point of this folly for Western leaders must
be that, at least when conflicts at the margins of the First
World involve Muslims, Russia must be regarded as a part of the
problem rather than any reliable part of the solution. With
respect to the Bosnian conflict, in particular, Chechnya has
crippled Russia's ability to play any significant role even as
it has exposed the inability of the Russian military, for years
to come, to pose any significant land threat to Western Europe.



     EMPTY CEASE-FIRE: A third Bosnian hope that many, most
recently Jimmy Carter, have entertained is that the Bosnian Serb
leadership might be persuaded to accept autonomy rather than
independence in a peace plan that ratifies many of its military
gains. Sadly, the cease-fire that Carter brokered has never
taken effect in Bihac, the besieged city that prompted his
intervention and was to have been its main beneficiary. Worse,
the Serbs are now preparing a similar siege for Srebenica,
another of the cruelly misnamed Bosnian "safe areas." The U.S.
State Department recently decided to end official contacts with
the Bosnian Serb leadership. Would that comparable realism ruled
U.S. relations with Belgrade.     In 1995 the attempt to halt
Serb aggression stands approximately where the attempt to halt
German aggression stood in 1942. The hour is dark, in other
words. But abandoning false hopes regarding Slobodan Milosevic,
Russian mediation and Serb willingness to settle for a large but
partial victory can only hurry the dawn.

 1995/The Times Mirror Company



----





    "It is not possible to be a Serb and not be harassed here,"

said Ivan Cicak, president of the Zagreb office of the Helsinki

Committee for Human Rights. "We can perhaps understand the anger

of some Croats toward Serbs, but it gives no one the right to

oppress them."



February 18, 1995, Saturday, Home Edition

BYLINE: SCOTT KRAFT; TIMES STAFF WRITER PAGE: A-1



JALSEVAC, Croatia -- As Anna selects fairy tales for her nursery
school class in Croatia these days, she knows that those penned
by Serbs are off limits. And when some of her 25 pupils draw
pictures of apes and say, "This is a Serb," or call each other
"ugly Serb" on the playground, she knows to keep her mouth shut.
     Her family has lived here, in the country now called
Croatia, for 800 years. She is a citizen of Croatia. She is also
a Serb, holding on to her job only because no one, aside from
her sympathetic principal, knows that.     "None of the kids'
parents even suspect," she said recently, pouring sweet black
coffee for a visitor to her home. She insists on speaking behind
a pseudonym, knowing that the Croatian authorities carefully
read dispatches in foreign newspapers. "My principal says she
won't be able to protect my job if anyone finds out."     Still,
this 36-year-old mother of two finds it difficult to hold her
tongue and impossible to be optimistic about her family's future
in Croatia.     "When this kind of hatred is planted in kids
this young, I don't see how it will ever end," she said.     The
Croatian state that emerged brom the former Yugoslav federation,
and was recognized as a sovereign nation three years ago, has a
state-of-the-art constitution firmly guaranteeing the rights of
all minorities, including Serbs.     But the law is not
enforced, and the lives of Serbs here are a daily list of
collective and personal insults, job dismissals, schoolyard
harassment, ostracism from neighbors, threatening telephone
calls, citizenship hassles and forced evictions.     In a Zagreb
restaurant on a recent evening, a male chorus employed by the
management loudly serenaded diners with anti-Serb songs dating
from World War II, when a short-lived Croatian government
collaborated with the Nazis and killed tens of thousands of
Serbs. The music continued the entire evening, with some patrons
pausing from their plates of roasted meats to join in.     "It
is not possible to be a Serb and not be harassed here," said
Ivan Cicak, president of the Zagreb office of the Helsinki
Committee for Human Rights. Cicak himself is a onetime Croatian
nationalist who now supports the Serbian minority.     "We can
perhaps understand the anger of some Croats toward Serbs, but it
gives no one the right to oppress them," he said. "We Croats
were fighting for a democratic state during the war, not a state
of hatred or racism."     Complicating that legacy of hatred,
for which both sides share responsibility in a long and tortured
history, is the fact that Serbs and Croats, as ethnic groups,
are not really very different.     It is rarely possible, for
example, for Croats and Serbs to tell each other apart by
appearance alone. They speak the same language, known as
Serbo-Croatian, and even share many of the same regional
dialects, though Serbs write in the Cyrillic alphabet while
Croats use the Roman alphabet.  (...)    But the main difference
is that since the 11th Century, Croats have been Roman Catholic
and Serbs have been Orthodox Christian. Also, many, though not
all, names are recognizably Croatian or Serbian.     And, of
course, they've been on opposing sides of the bloody wars
spawned by the breakup of the former Yugoslav federation.
After the 1991 Serbo-Croatian war, the Serbs made up 12% of
government-controlled Croatia, a proportion about equal, for
example, to the percentage of African Americans in the United
States. But 300,000 Serbs have fled, leaving only 150,000.
Those who have remained are sometimes called "loyal Serbs," to
distinguish them from the 300,000 rebel Serbs who hold a
mountainous stretch of Croatian territory known as the Krajina,
where it is the Serbs who have been the dominant ethnic group.
  The Serbs in Croatia have lived for generations with a
Croatian majority, albeit in a country--the old Yugoslavia--in
which Serbs were the dominant political power.     Now, though,
most of the Serbs in Croatia are or would like to be Croatian
citizens. But the Croatian government, under President Franjo
Tudjman, a 72-year-old war hero, has not exactly welcomed them.
    Under the constitution, Serbs are among the minorities
guaranteed representation, proportionate to their numbers, in
government, the judicial system and state enterprises.     In
one house of Parliament, 12% of the members are Serbs. But
elsewhere, they are rare.     Only one of Tudjman's 20 Cabinet
ministers is a Serb, and he does not have any responsibilities.
    Serbs also feel the sting of discrimination in other walks of
life, in ways subtle as well as overt.     Job applicants must
identify their ethnic group, and many employers won't hire
Serbs. Some Serbs have changed their names and lied to get jobs.
     The government-influenced media, in what most Serbs consider
a propaganda offensive, either vilify them or run stories
showing how happy they are to be living in Croatia. A typical
front-page headline recently read: "Serbs Be Damned--Wherever
You Are."     Even Tudjman, when he addresses the nation,
begins, "Dear Croatians and other citizens of Croatia. . . ."
 And he has defended the eviction of Serbs from their homes by
saying they were to blame for the military actions and
anti-Croat atrocities of Serbs elsewhere, particularly in
neighboring Bosnia-Herzegovina.  (...)    To the dismay of many
Serbs here, the government has renamed streets in honor of
leaders of the Ustashi, the collaborationist Croatian regime
that killed Serbs and put others in concentration camps during
the early 1940s.     An intersection long known as the Square of
the Victims of Fascism, in honor of those Serbs slain during
World War II, has been renamed the Square of Croatian Greats.
 The new currency introduced last summer is called the kuna, the
same name given to the currency during the Ustashi regime, and
the Croatian flag bears a checkerboard reminder of that regime's
symbol.     When asked about its failure to protect Serbian
rights here, the Croatian government says it will start honoring
the constitutional guarantees as soon as rebel Serbs in the
Krajina region return that territory to Croatia.     But in the
Krajina, rebel Serbs cite the oppression of minority Serbs in
Croatia as one of the many reasons they could never agree to
live under a Croatian government.     Tudjman has decided to
kick out the 12,000 U.N. troops providing a buffer zone between
Croatia and the Krajina, hoping that will end the stalemate.
World leaders say it will probably mean another war.     The
plight of Anna's family is emblematic of the problems Serbs face
in Croatia.     She and her husband, a laborer in Zagreb, live
with their two sons, ages 11 and 18, in a two-story house they
built in this rural suburb seven years ago.     Out front, they
have planted bright flowers, and in the back the soil has been
turned, ready for another spring planting of vegetables for the
table.     But the family recently decided to leave Croatia and
move to what remains of Yugoslavia, which is still run by a
Serbian government and is home to many refugees from Croatia.
 "We don't have any job there, and we're well aware we'll have a
lower living standard," Anna said. "But it will be better for
the children. Having things is not as important as the
psychological well-being of our children."     Both of the
couple's sons have found it difficult here in recent years. At
first, the couple did not tell their youngest that he was a
Serb. And they always left blank the space requesting ethnic
identity on his school forms.     But the boy's teacher was
suspicious, and she began questioning the youngster about the
names of his grandparents, who have more identifiable Serbian
names.     When she learned the truth, the teacher herself
filled in the blank spot on the boy's school forms and,
according to Anna, urged the other children not to play with
him.  (...)    The family is worried that the father and oldest
son will be drafted.     As Croatia prepares for war with the
Krajina Serbs, more and more "loyal Serbs" are being visited by
military police, often in the middle of the night. Some are
ordered into the service immediately, where they are usually
given the most menial or dangerous tasks.     Of the 25 children
in Anna's nursery school class, six who were Serbs have moved
away; only one Serb remains.     And her job seems less sure
every day. The school principal, a Croat married to a Serb, has
been supportive. When parents ask if she has "any of them" on
the teaching staff, the principal lies.     "I'm just warning
you, don't tell anyone you are a Serb," the principal has told
Anna. "Times are hard, and you are lucky to have this job."
So far, Anna has been protected by her first name, which is not
readily identifiable as a Serbian name.     Now she and her
husband are quietly trying to find a buyer for their house,
which is worth about $100,000. When they first put it on the
market, the best offer they got was $30,000 from a Croat who
said: "Go ahead. Move. You'll be lucky if you get a cent for
this house."     "As a Serb here, there's no chance to sell a
house for a real price," Anna said.     So the couple placed an
advertisement in newspapers in Zagreb, the Croatian capital,
offering to trade their house for one in Yugoslavia, where Serbs
are the majority. Their aim was to attract Croats who still have
parents or family in Yugoslavia and want to move them here.
But the advertisement elicited only anonymous phone calls.
"You think you'll make a deal," one caller seethed. "No way.
We'll blow up your house first."     All that has made them more
determined to move.     "The circumstances are forcing us," Anna
said. "I was born here, and I don't want to move. But I have no
hope that the situation will improve."     Among Serbs who
intend to stay, some have changed their names, hoping to hide
their ethnic roots. Others keep to themselves, hoping to keep
their jobs and their houses and avoid contact with racist Croats
until the Balkan conflicts are resolved.     A few Serbs in
Croatia are staying on principle, determined to fight for their
rights, but it is an uphill fight.     Veselin Pejnovic, one of
the Serbs in Parliament, sits on 16 separate commissions on
human rights, which he admits are mostly ineffectual bodies that
only give the impression of movement on the issue of minority
rights.     "It's a joke, really," he said recently.     "This
government has demonized Serbs for years and years," Pejnovic
said. "What it needs to do now is just declare that Serbs are
full-fledged citizens and that it is in the Croatian national
interest that we remain here."     (...)    Among the most
dogged fighters for Serbian political rights in Croatia is
Milorad Pupovac, a professor of linguistics and head of the
Serbian Democratic Forum.     "I know this is a young country,
and ethnic Croatians need some freedom to express the nationhood
they've been wanting for centuries," Pupovac said. "But I expect
more sensitivity to the fact that Croatia is not only inhabited
by ethnic Croats. How can I be loyal to an authority that does
not recognize me as a full-fledged citizen?"     His job is
complicated by tha actions of Serbs elsewhere.     Fresh still
are the memories of the Bosnian Serbs and their concentration
camps and the Krajina Serbs who killed thousands of innocent
Croatian women and children as they subjugated the eastern
Croatian town of Vukovar.     "Serbs have their responsibility
in this war. I'd be the last to deny it," Pupovac said. "But
just because a person was born a Serb doesn't make him
responsible."

 1995/The Times Mirror Company



===============================================================



White House May Send GI's Into Croatia

Washington Post



    Washington, D.C. - After two years of resisting military
involvement in the Balkans, the Clinton administration has
concluded  that it may have to send thousands of U.S. troops to
the region within  weeks because of the threatened collapse of a
U.N. peacekeeping  mission.       The U.S. forces would be
dispatched as part of a NATO effort to  protect the departure of
U.N. peacekeeping troops, who on Jan. 12 were  ordered to leave
Croatia this spring by Croatian President Franjo  Tudjman.
Although Tudjman has threatened to expel the U.N. troops before,
 American and European officials say this time he appears
serious and  the 12,000 peacekeepers may have to depart between
March 31, when  their U.N. mandate expires, and  .June 30, when
Tudjman says the last  U.N. soldier has to be gone.       With
concern building here and in Croatia, both Secretary of State
Warren M. Christopher and Defense Secretary William J. Perry
have recommended to President Clinton that he approve the
operation to  provide cover for a U.N. withdrawal from Croatia.

    According to administration officials, Clinton has withheld
endorsement so as not to give the impression that a U.N.
withdrawal is inevitable; American and allied negotiators are
still trying to persuade Tudjman to permit at least a token U.N.
force to remain to separate government forces from Croatian Serb
rebels who control more  than one-quarter of the country.

    Officials here and in Croatia have displayed growing concern
that  unless they can persuade Tudjman to relent, the immediate
result would  be renewal of war between the Croatian government
and the Serbs in  southern Croatia.

    Worse, these officials warn, the fighting would risk spilling
over  into neighboring Bosnia, where Serbs also are fighting for
 independence, and turn the neighboring conflicts into a
regional war  that could spin out of control.       Fighting
could erupt even while the peacekeepers are withdrawing,
catching them in a cross fire, or the lightly armed peacekeepers
 themselves could become the target of attacks, officials warn.

    U.S. and other NATO officials assume that withdrawal of U.N.
peacekeepers from Croatia would lead inevitably to the collapse
of the U.N. mission in Bosnia as well.       The U.N. troops in
Bosnia could face difficulties getting supplies if the
peacekeepers left Croatia, because most provisions for Bosnia
pass through a logistical center in Croatia.       "The key
question is Tudjman's intent.  Is he serious?" said a Western
diplomat in the region. "The closer we get to March 31, the more
it seems he is.  But we still hope he'll change his mind."

    The Serbs have run an autonomous region in southern Croatia -
 amounting to 27% of the country - since the Croatian civil war
halted in 1991.       Tudjman's government in Zagreb long has
complained that the 12,000 U.N. peacekeepers, originally
stationed to prevent flareups along the wandering 1,000-mile
ceasefire line, have in effect become buffers for the breakaway
region, behind which separatist  leaders are busily making their
self-declared Serb ministate a  reality.

    With the U.N. forces out of the way, the officials say,
Tudjman could attack the Serb-held zone in an attempt to bring
the whole country back under his authority.       Further, they
predict, rebel Serb forces in neighboring Bosnia would be
tempted to help defend their Serb brethren in Croatia,
broadening the battle into Bosnia and shattering that country's
fragile ceasefire that has kept a relative peace since January.

    Clinton pledged last December to send U.S. forces to help the
25,000 U.N. troops in Bosnia stage a retreat, which looked then
like  it might become necessary.

    Although that crisis has subsided, a similar threat now hangs
over Croatia because of Tudjman's expulsion order and,
administration  officials say, Clinton will soon extend the
promise of U.S. forces to  cover Croatia as well as Bosnia.



===============================================================



NATO's Claes in Hot Water

Milwaukee Sentinel



    A long-running corruption scandal has snagged a new victim:
NATO  Secretary General Willy Claes, who says he vaguely recalls
an aircraft  company offering bribes when he was Belgium's
economics minister. NATO  issued a statement expressing
confidence in Claes.

    But increasingly hostile Belgian news reports Friday said his
 position is threatened by allegations his party accepted $1.5
million  in bribes for a 1988 military helicopter contract.

    Claes approved the $330 million contract to the Italian
aircraft  manufacturer Agusta and previously insisted he had no
knowledge of any  illegal payments connected to it.     The
bribery allegations have long focused on Belgium's
Frenchspeaking Socialist Party. Three French-speaking Cabinet
ministers were  forced to sign last year, and the unsolved 1991
shooting death of former  party leader Andre Cools has also been
linked to the case.     The manufacturer denies wrongdoing.

==============================================



TODAY'S ISSUES==> TOPIC: MILITARY & ARMS      Ref: C31N2990
Date: 03/01/95 From: PRESTON MCMURRY
             Time: 07:49pm \/To: STEVE SCHULTZ (Leader)
                      (Read 0 times) Subj: R: BOSNIA-HERZEGOVINA
UPDATE



A U.S. military officer at the N.A.T.O. Southern Command
Headquarters in Naples, Italy, has compiled a report saying that
U.N. personnel were confused and inept in their accounts last
month of a possible covert air operation delivering arms to the
Bosnian Government. The report, which h infuriated the U.N.,
says the aircraft observed were either N.A.T.O. air patrols or
commercial aircraft on approved flight plans in Serbian airspace.



On February 10, a Norwegian military officer at the Tuzla
airfield reported seeing a C-130 series Hercules accompanied by
two fighter aircraft flying low over the airfield. When
Norwegian troops investigate they were fired on by Bosnian
Government troops. Two days later, a Briti officer reported a
similar sighting, and there were further reports on February 17
and 23.



While no aircraft were seen landing, no arms deliveries were
seen, and n one knows the origin of the aircraft, the fact that
it was a C-130 has l to suggestions that it was a covert U.S. or
Turkish operation to supply Bosnian forces.

And even the type of aircraft is in dispute. A U.N. officer,
reviewing t report, said "the idea that trained officers could
mistake a low-flying transporter over Tuzla for a commercial
aircraft flying a 35,000 feet in Serbian airspace is frankly
ludicrous and insulting." (Roger Cohen/N.Y.T



=====================================================================

THE ECONOMIST MARCH 4TH 1995

Think again, Tudjman

     The Croatian president's decision to send the United
     Nations peacekeepers packing risks plunging former
     Yugoslavia back into war

   YUGO-FATIGUE affects outsiders even during periods of fighting.
When, as now, the death rate is low and international diplomacy is
stalled, the world readily forgets the woes of former Yugoslavia.
It may soon get a vicious reminder of them. In Bosnia, the
ceasefire between the mainly Muslim government and the Bosnian Serbs
is fraying. The United Nations has reported secret flights delivering
weapons to both sides, as they rearm in readiness for the end of a
ceasefire that expires on April 30th. The situation in Krajina, a
region of Croatia ruled by Serbs, is even worse. The opposing armies
of the Croatian government and the Krajina Serbs are strengthening
their fortifications and moving artillery to the front line.

  The peace that Croatia has enjoyed since early 1992 may well break
down after March 31st. That is the day on which Croatia's president,
Franjo Tudjman, says the 12,000 UN peacekeepers in his country must
start to leave. Strung out along 1,600kilometres (1,000 miles) of
ceasefire lines,they have successfully prevented small incidents
from turning into full-blown war. Mr Tudjman says the soldiers must
all be gone by June 31st, but magnanimously adds (to the delight of
restaurateurs and brothel-keepers) that the UN can keep the bases in
Zagreb and Split from which it services its forces in Bosnia.

   Withdrawing the UN's blue helmets could well prove hazardous, for
most are quartered on Serb-held land. Fearful of what mayhappen when
the troops leave, Serb civilians may try to stop them going, perhaps
by lying down in front of their departing lorries. Serbian soldiers
may demand that weapons be left behind. Belatedly, NATO is drawing
up plans-involving the dispatch of extra troops, including Americans
-- to help evacuate UN troops in Croatia.

   Mr Tudjman has ignored pleas from America, Russia, the UN and
Germany (his chief ally) to revoke his expulsion order. His
frustration with the UN is understandable. Its soldiers have
failed to implement UN resolutions calling forthe disarming of the
Croatian Serbs. And he fears that Croatia will follow Cyprus down the
road to partition: there, the longer the UN'S peacekeepers have
stayed, the more the illegal Turkish republic in the north has become
a fait accompti. Facing elections early next year, Mr Tudjman wants
to be seen to rattle the sabre of Croatian nationalism and to reassert
authority over the 27% of his land that Serbs control. He seems to be
gambling that the blue helmets'departure will set off a new round of
diplomacy, from which a lasting settlement may emerge.

   Mr Tudjman should think again. His decision is already causing
harm. Last December his government and the Croatian Serbs signed an
economic accord which reopened an oil pipeline and the motorway from
Zagreb to the Serbian border. Now the Serbs are refusing to implement
the accord's second stage (on telecoms and railway links) unless the
UN troops stay. Nor will they discuss a plan drawn up by the European
Union, Russia, America and the UN, under which they would hand back
some land in exchange for guarantees of autonomy.

   When Mr Tudjman says he does not want another war, he probably
means it. His suggestion that a small force of unarmed observers from
NATO or the Western European Union should replace the UN troops maybe
proof of sincerity. But his assertion that the departure of the UN
soldiers would probably not lead to war is doubtful. When they pull
out, one opposing army will be tempted to grab strategically valuable
points before the other can. A few toothless observers, of the sort
Mr Tudjman envisages, could do little to prevent skirmishes escalating
into war.

Dread nationalism

   Many Croats claim that, in the @vent of war, they could reconquer
Krajina without provoking intervention from Serbia. If that is Mr
Tudjman's assumption, it is a foolish one. Senior figures in the
Serbian and Bosnian Serb governments have already said they would
defend their cousins in Krajina. Croatia has worked hard to build its
military might, and can boast 1,000 pieces of artillery. But it could
not defeat heavily armed Serbia. A new war in Croatia would reignite
the Bosnian conflict and probably make it impossible for the UN to
maintain troops there.

   Mr Tudjman may not care about that. But he should worry that most
of Croatia, including Zagreb, is within range of Serb rockets. If Mr
Tudjman really is the father of his nation, as he believes himself to
be, he should have the courage to stand up to Croatia's nationalists
and revoke an order which can only hurt his country, and the rest of
former Yugoslavia.
=====================================================================
THE ECONOMIST MARCH 4TH 1995

Post-Communist Vandalism

      Art treasures are being destroyed in the Balkans-
      by soldiers in what used to be Yugoslavia and by
      spivs in Albania

   The height of the battle forvukovar in ineastern Croatia in
1991, a soldier carefully unwrapped a bundle stashed amid the ruins
of the town's just bombed museum. It contained a human foot. "We're
looking for the rest of him," the soldier said. More than three years
later Hans-Christoph von Imhoff, an art consultant, has been to the
region to accomplish the rather less gruesome task of finding out what
happened to the museum's collection. The good news is that he has
found much of it in Serbia. The bad news is that thousands of other
treasures are still unaccounted for, either lost, looted or destroyed.

   Mr von Imhoff was sent to hunt for the Vukovar collection by the
Council of Europe. He arrived armed with a partial list of missing
items provided by the Croatian authorities, and the Serbian officials
obliged by showing him some 2,000 objects now stored in the northern
town of Novi Sad. Many of these come from the Bauer collection of
Croatian art, which, packed and stored underground by the Croats
before Vukovar fell, was found by the Serbs at the end of their
three-month siege. The Serbian authorities are keen to co-operate
with the Council because they want to avoid charges of officially
sponsored looting.

   Vukovar now lies in the self-proclaimed Republic of Serbian
Krajina. Since 1991 the Croats have been charging the Serbs with
"cultural genocide" and "urbicide", but they fail to point out that
when the museum was bombed it was being used as a billet by their
own soldiers. Although many artefacts were saved, many others were
destroyed-including much of a cultural history exhibit. Croatian art
experts say that overall some 50,000 items are missing while the Serbs
put the figure at about 10,000. Some have certainly been looted.

   During both the Croatian and Bosnian wars religious buildings have
been attacked and razed to the ground by soldiers brimming with ethnic
hatred and religious bigotry. But a row nonetheless rages over the
fate of thousands of Serbian Orthodox religious artefacts which were
brought out from Croatia during the fighting.

   Nikola Kusovac, the curator of the National Museum in Belgrade,
wishes people would calm down. Strolling through the museum's
conservation rooms, he says that The Bauer collection has come to
grief during the war with Croatia the Serbian government organised a
committee to save Orthodox religious artefacts from the war zones and
that in all about 1,500 were saved.

   Pausing before an iconostasis by Arsa Teodorovic from the Serbian
Orthodox Bishop's Palace in Pakrac, Mr Kusovac notes that it was first
damaged in 1941 and that it was reconstituted, using the surviving
pieces. Pakrac is now under Croatian control. The looming dilemma is
whether, following a peace settlement, this piece and others like it
should be returned because they come from Croatia or kept because they
belong to the Serbs.

   Mr Kusovac's committee was controversial while it operated because
it worked to save only Serb treasures, and not Croatian ones, in the
combat zones. Mr Kusovac is widely reputed to have said that "the
Croatian and Catholic garbage should be left to be destroyed." He
hotly denies this, pointing out numerous paintings by Croats and
sculptures by a famous Croatian sculptor, Ivan Mestrovic, which remain
in his museum. He says: "I had no permission from the Croats to enter
their churches and can you imagine the catastrophe if it had been
reported that a Serbian art expert was packing things up in a Croatian
church?"

   In Albania historic monuments are threatened not by war but by an
over-exuberant rush towards capitalism. Until 1991 responsibility for
the monuments lay with the Ministry of Culture. Since then, laws to
restore nationalised property to its original owners or their
descendants have led to the handing over of some of these sites to
private citizens out to make a quick lek.

   Among the casualties is one of the finest ottoman hammams
(bathhouses) in the Balkans. Situated in the city of Elbasan, and
dating back at least to 1670, this hammam was extensively and
authentically restored during the communist period and its central
fountain was put back into good working order. But it has now been
transformed into a tacky discobar with plastic chairs, a plywood bar
and bright green decor. Damage caused by the psychedelic paint and
the constant cigarette smoke of patrons may prove irreparable.

   The snag is that the restitution laws passed since 1992 fail to
make any distinction between historical monuments and ordinary
dwellings when it comes to the transfer of property. And once the
property is back in private hands the cash-strapped state cannot
afford to buy back even the most valued sites. Last year a garage for
car repair was set up in the grounds of one of Shkodra's most
beautiful 19th-century houses. A cheap restaurant is open for
business on what remains of Tirana's ancient city walls. In Durres,
the largest Roman amphitheatre in the Balkans now accommodates many of
the city's homeless. Albania is not extensively endowed with ancient
monuments, and the loss and disfigurement of the few that have
survived wars, invasions and earthquakes is hardly likely to encourage
the growth of a tourist industry.

   Most Albanians show little interest in their nation's cultural
heritage, especially when a nice little cafe or disco on a historical
site can be a source of much needed income. After a half century of
communist conformity, people are loth to allow the state any further
say in how they conduct their own businesses or treat their newly
reacquired property.

   Such short-sightedness will prove costly. Albania desperately needs
more tourists to help it escape poverty. The republics of
ex-Yugoslavia will eventually be in still more desperate need of
foreign exchange to pay for its postwar reconstruction. But few
visitors are going to travel to the Balkans to eat in an ancient
monument that has been converted into a greasy-spoon with plastic
fittings. Or to see churches and mosques that have been blasted,
sacked and looted.

===============================================

TODAY'S ISSUES==> TOPIC: MILITARY & ARMS      Ref: C3AI3094
Date: 03/06/95 From: STEVE SCHULTZ (Leader)
          Time: 02:51pm \/To: ALL
                 (Read 1 times) Subj: BOSNIA-HERZEGOVINA UPDATE



The commander of Bosnian Serb forces, GEN Ratko Mladic, allowed
a U.N. convoy to bring supplies to Dutch peacekeepers yesterday.
The permission came after the U.N. drafted plans to run the Serb
blockade with helicopters escorted by N.A.T.O. aircraft. Ten
trucks with 30 tons of food arrived in Srebrenica at dawn. About
730 Dutch soldiers are stationed there, and had less than two
days of food left. (Reuters/N.Y.T.)