Many people in Bosnia and beyond thought they would never see Radovan Karadzic standing before the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia (ICTY). It seemed almost beyond the dreams of the rape victims that I interviewed in Bosnia in 1993, or those held in concentration camps. But even then, in the midst of the conflict and in very difficult circumstances, local civilians had painstakingly gathered detailed testimonies from survivors in the hope that one day, there would be justice for these crimes.
If Pristina investigated the fate of more than 400 missing non-Albanians in Kosovo, it would prove it cared for all its citizens, regardless of ethnicity. When Carla Del Ponte’s book hit the media last month, coverage predictably highlighted her allegations concerning the possible trafficking of prisoners’ organs from a mysterious yellow house near the Albanian town of Burrel. While Serbian officials exaggerated the claims, officials in Pristina and Tirana called them a slanderous lie.
John Laughland suggests that human rights organisations, including Human Rights Watch, are more concerned about the conviction of former heads of state than about them getting fair trials. Nothing could be further from the truth.
The much-anticipated UN plan for Kosovo’s final status unveiled in part last week is a crucial step to resolve the long-standing conflict over the restive province in what used to be Yugoslavia’s southwest. While avoiding the controversial word “independence,” UN Special Envoy Matti Ahtisaari presented the outlines for a new Albanian majority state with a period of international supervision and substantial autonomy for the minority Serbs.
Skepticism in Serbia about the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia (ICTY) is nothing new, but the recent judgment against Naser Oric has provoked a storm of criticism. The court sentenced Oric, the wartime commander of the Bosnian Muslim forces in Srebrenica, to two years’ imprisonment for command responsibility in the murder of five Serb prisoners and cruel treatment of ten others, committed by individuals under his control in 1992 and 1993.
As Kosovo’s Albanians prepare for victory - full independence - in the status talks taking place between Belgrade and Pristina, the province’s fearful minorities are holding their breath, unsure who to trust and how all this will pan out after six years of waiting. If Belgrade agrees to sever ties with Kosovo, it is likely many will leave, unwilling or too afraid to give the Albanians and the international community the chance to make good on promises of their protection - promises that have been broken time and again.
Slobodan Milosevic conducted his legal defense much as he did his political life: with bombast, bullying and belligerence. Observing Milosevic for weeks and weeks in The Hague in the first half of his four-year trial, it became quickly clear to me that he was undertaking a political offensive in the courtroom rather than presenting a rebuttal of the 66 charges he faced.
Bringing to justice those who commit atrocities has obvious appeal. It provides redress for victims and their families, punishes perpetrators, and deters others from replicating their crimes. But is the price too high? Critics argue that the threat of prosecution compels dictators to cling to power rather than step down, or that it encourages abusive combatants to fight on rather than sue for peace. Yet a decade of experience with international tribunals suggests these fears are overblown.
The 1995 massacre in Srebrenica occurred because Bosnian Serb leaders, intoxicated by hatred and an illusory sense of omnipotence, lashed out savagely against the country’s Muslim population. But the international community also bears responsibility for the worst crime in Europe since World War Two. After promising protection to the inhabitants of Srebrenica, the United Nations and NATO allowed the “safe area” to fall. That responsibility is compounded by the continuing failure to bring to justice Radovan Karadzic and Ratko Mladic, the two men indicted as the principal architects of the Srebrenica genocide.
Lacking their own police forces, international tribunals depend on international cooperation to ensure that war-crime suspects are brought to justice. The recent wave of surrenders to the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia (ICTY) shows that international pressure can induce cooperation in even the most recalcitrant states, provided that their diplomatic and economic interests are affected.
Many people in Bosnia and beyond thought they would never see Radovan Karadzic standing before the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia (ICTY). It seemed almost beyond the dreams of the rape victims that I interviewed in Bosnia in 1993, or those held in concentration camps. But even then, in the midst of the conflict and in very difficult circumstances, local civilians had painstakingly gathered detailed testimonies from survivors in the hope that one day, there would be justice for these crimes.
If Pristina investigated the fate of more than 400 missing non-Albanians in Kosovo, it would prove it cared for all its citizens, regardless of ethnicity. When Carla Del Ponte’s book hit the media last month, coverage predictably highlighted her allegations concerning the possible trafficking of prisoners’ organs from a mysterious yellow house near the Albanian town of Burrel. While Serbian officials exaggerated the claims, officials in Pristina and Tirana called them a slanderous lie.
John Laughland suggests that human rights organisations, including Human Rights Watch, are more concerned about the conviction of former heads of state than about them getting fair trials. Nothing could be further from the truth.
The much-anticipated UN plan for Kosovo’s final status unveiled in part last week is a crucial step to resolve the long-standing conflict over the restive province in what used to be Yugoslavia’s southwest. While avoiding the controversial word “independence,” UN Special Envoy Matti Ahtisaari presented the outlines for a new Albanian majority state with a period of international supervision and substantial autonomy for the minority Serbs.
Skepticism in Serbia about the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia (ICTY) is nothing new, but the recent judgment against Naser Oric has provoked a storm of criticism. The court sentenced Oric, the wartime commander of the Bosnian Muslim forces in Srebrenica, to two years’ imprisonment for command responsibility in the murder of five Serb prisoners and cruel treatment of ten others, committed by individuals under his control in 1992 and 1993.
As Kosovo’s Albanians prepare for victory - full independence - in the status talks taking place between Belgrade and Pristina, the province’s fearful minorities are holding their breath, unsure who to trust and how all this will pan out after six years of waiting. If Belgrade agrees to sever ties with Kosovo, it is likely many will leave, unwilling or too afraid to give the Albanians and the international community the chance to make good on promises of their protection - promises that have been broken time and again.
Slobodan Milosevic conducted his legal defense much as he did his political life: with bombast, bullying and belligerence. Observing Milosevic for weeks and weeks in The Hague in the first half of his four-year trial, it became quickly clear to me that he was undertaking a political offensive in the courtroom rather than presenting a rebuttal of the 66 charges he faced.
Bringing to justice those who commit atrocities has obvious appeal. It provides redress for victims and their families, punishes perpetrators, and deters others from replicating their crimes. But is the price too high? Critics argue that the threat of prosecution compels dictators to cling to power rather than step down, or that it encourages abusive combatants to fight on rather than sue for peace. Yet a decade of experience with international tribunals suggests these fears are overblown.
The 1995 massacre in Srebrenica occurred because Bosnian Serb leaders, intoxicated by hatred and an illusory sense of omnipotence, lashed out savagely against the country’s Muslim population. But the international community also bears responsibility for the worst crime in Europe since World War Two. After promising protection to the inhabitants of Srebrenica, the United Nations and NATO allowed the “safe area” to fall. That responsibility is compounded by the continuing failure to bring to justice Radovan Karadzic and Ratko Mladic, the two men indicted as the principal architects of the Srebrenica genocide.
Lacking their own police forces, international tribunals depend on international cooperation to ensure that war-crime suspects are brought to justice. The recent wave of surrenders to the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia (ICTY) shows that international pressure can induce cooperation in even the most recalcitrant states, provided that their diplomatic and economic interests are affected.