War Games in Southern Serbia
AIM Belgrade, December 7, 2000
Peaceful but tense, with an occasional shell fired here and there -- that is the description of southern Serbia given in more or less all reports from the spot, that is, from the line that separates the security zone towards Kosovo and the rest of Serbia. The problems in the so-called "ground security zone," five kilometers wide and some 25 kilometers long, emerged almost immediately after it was established in line with the Kumanovo Military-Technical Agreement signed when the war in Kosovo ended. The agreement stipulates that the Yugoslav army cannot enter the buffer zone, whereas policemen armed with pistols and automatic rifles may patrol the zone in limited numbers. As the Liberation Army of Presevo, Bujanovac and Medvedja (LAPBM) was not mentioned in the document, its guerrillas are almost freely roaming the zone attacking Serbian police checkpoints. Since Nov. 23 last year until Dec. 3 this year, in these attacks one hundred civilians were killed as well as one hundred Serbian police officers and LAPBM fighters.
In the latest incidents on Dec. 3, members of the LAPBM fired four mortar shells at a police patrol in the buffer zone, but fortunately missed. "This is a reply to your secretly fired bullets, from sniper rifles with silencers, that wounded three Albanians," Albanian sources in Kosovo said quoting the words of Muhamet Xhemaili, one of the LAPBM commanders in the village of Muhovac, in an interview with the AFP news agency. "That's not true, we would never violate the cease-fire and fire at Albanians," said the Serbian Interior Ministry in an release carried by the Beta news agency. Of course, both are lying. "Recently we too fired three 120mm shells at the Albanians and didn't have to wait long for a response: 10 minutes later KFOR called us over the telephone and warned us to stop. They said they had located our position, and we fled immediately," members of a special police unit told us at their checkpoint in the village of Lucane, through which the demarcation line between the buffer zone and the rest of Serbia passes. One of the major nighttime clashes took place between Nov. 22 and Nov. 23, when the LAPBM launched a sudden attack, using grenade launchers and small arms, on a police checkpoint in the village of Konculj as well as on their colleagues in the trenches on the hills above the village of Dobrosin in the buffer zone. It was dark and no one could see how many attackers there were.
According to preliminary reports coming both from official and unofficial sources their number was anywhere between 400 and 4,000. This, however, is of no great relevance; what is important is that four special police from Gornji Milanovac were killed in the attack. Their reinforcement had failed to arrive in time, something went wrong with communications, and they had to withdraw over open ground. It took those who were not killed or wounded nine hours to reach Bujanovac the next day, after roaming through the woods and terrain they were not familiar with.
The police at the checkpoint near the village of Konculj, located on the road leading to Kosovo, also had to withdraw from their base after heavy shelling. Then the situation became quite serious: the Albanians were issued an ultimatum to leave the region in two days or be destroyed. Who made this threat is not known: it was either the Serbian government or the Serbian Interior Ministry. It might well be that they were in this together. Be it as it may, the remaining Albanians hastily took to moving to Kosovo, and the Serbs went the other direction, deeper into Serbia. Bujanovac and its surroundings was flooded with military and police units, led by generals very experienced in losing wars in the territory of the former Yugoslavia. Columns of tanks, armored vehicles, trucks filled with troops, field kitchens and other equipment rushed towards the boundary of the security zone to take up positions and prepare for a charge after the deadline expired. Along the way, however, the column of tanks had several accidents: en route from Vranje to Bujanovac (a stretch of road 17 kilometers long) four T-54 Russian tanks remained on the shoulder because their engines broke down.
Their crews impatiently waited to be towed away for repairs. If I am not mistaken, these tanks were also used in the Battle of Kursk, in the summer of 1943. Various special police units also showed up, among them the Special Operations Unit and the Special Anti-Terrorist Unit, both of which emerged from anonymity for participating in the brutal beating of demonstrators in the streets of Belgrade. The inhabitants of Bujanovac, Presevo, Medvedja and the vicinity were not impressed: cafes and restaurants were crowded, people in the streets and squares discussed everyday problems and almost no one mentioned the imminent war. They failed to take the bait, despite all the war drumming coming from the TV screens and newspaper reports, so similar to the elated humdrum and trumpeting that accompanied the passage of Yugoslav army units headed for Croatia a few years ago. The people watched all these troops with curiosity, but with no fear, as if they were participants in maneuvers that were about to enliven the monotony of provincial life. Politicians from the DOS spoke to crowds not stronger than one hundred at a time, who after each effective point they made awarded them with applause. This kind of reception was not strange at all, given that the Yugoslav Left party, accustomed to having its speakers regularly greeted with cheers, currently rules Bujanovac, after winning in the September local elections there. "No, we are not afraid of the Albanians; what we fear is the group of our twenty or so Serbs, the scum of the earth, who have proclaimed themselves our government. There they are, right next to (DOS leader Vladan) Batic, who is addressing the gathering, completely unaware of what sort of company he is in," says Fidanka Dejakovic, from Bujanovac, while her elderly friend, Stana Mladenovic, adds: "Woe is us if they take power."
On Nov. 27, the vice premier of the Serbian transitional government, Nebojsa Covic, after hours of deliberation with Bujanovac authorities left the police station and told gathered journalists that the deadline was no longer valid and that "even KFOR has asked us not to use the language of trenches and ultimatums, but the language of diplomacy and negotiation." The news quickly spread but provoked neither outrage nor enthusiasm. In the only cafe in downtown Bujanovac someone said amidst general approval that "only a fool could believe that Serbia would again go to war with NATO which, of course, will side with the Albanians again." The inhabitants of Bujanovac also were not upset when the oldest daily paper in Serbia reported that the U.S. president had sent his terrorists to the Albanians' rescue ("Hashim Thaci's and Bill Clinton's terrorists yesterday failed to fire at Yugoslav forces, " said a headline in the Politika newspaper of Dec. 3).
The flexing of military muscle continued simultaneously with the FRY's diplomatic activity, which kept producing ever better results: all Western countries condemned the Liberation Army of Presevo, Bujanovac and Medvedja, pledging to insist that the border between Kosovo and the demilitarized zone be hermetically sealed so as to prevent the group from provoking incidents. Still, police at their checkpoints continued to exercise caution. They were continually visited by military and police generals who encouraged them to persevere, while photographers swarmed around in an effort to leave tangible proof of these encounters for posterity. Freshly shaven and all smiles, police General Obrad Stojanovic, with his entourage of senior officers, congratulated members of the special unit on taking their positions: "Bravo, you've really demonstrated your courage." After the general departed, the policemen said: "Many of our colleagues from Sabac refused to come here precisely because of Obradovic. He always f---s us over by favoring his cronies, who are later promoted into heroes."
The lines of separation were regularly toured by the State Security Service general, Radomir Markovic, in the company of his special unit, which for the first time was seen in public there and then, having been until yesterday the staunchest defenders of the Family from Dedinje. Their commander has been hiding his true name for years, and his subordinates follow his example. Well-informed sources say this is because of Carla del Ponte, who is closely watching them and expects to see them in The Hague, because of crimes committed against civilians during the clashes in Kosovo. They imposed themselves on certain DOS leaders, expecting to become legitimate policemen, once again entrusted with the task of guarding those on the top.
Otherwise, it is generally believed that the situation in the south of Serbia is calming down despite occasional incidents of lower intensity, so that refugees have begun to return home. U.N. High Commissioner for Refugees Peter Deck said on Dec. 5 that some 600 ethnic Albanians from southern Serbia who had fled to Kosovo, had come back. "The return has started in the villages of Veliki Trnovac, Konculj and Lucane. The people are feeling safe because of the political process," Deck said and added that some Albanians were still arriving in Kosovo due to the increased presence of Serbian military and police forces. He also said that there were at the time some 4,300 Albanians from southern Serbia in Kosovo.
On Dec. 4 another minor incident occurred when LAPBM snipers fired two shots. They did not hit anyone, but again this raised the tension, especially when bellicose politicians were in question. Democratic Party leader Zoran Djindjic seriously threatened the Albanians and set a firm deadline: "We will wait until Dec. 23, and not a day longer," he warned. He failed to specify what would happen after that day if they do not withdraw, but that is not hard to guess.
A statement of Yugoslav Interior Minister Zoran Zivkovic to the Beta news agency that "we will be patient for a while..." was also unfinished. He too did not say what the government would do once its patience ran out. As if Yugoslav President Vojislav Kostunica has been writing open letters in vain to domestic politicians calling on them "to restrain from making tactless statements and raising war cries, because this is not a moment for waging wars but for pursuing wise diplomatic activities... We have no right to raise war cries in a country as impoverished as ours," said Kostunica in the hope that warmongers would finally sober up.
Jovan Dulovic
(AIM)