WASHINGTON– Strange as it may seem to some, there are those who wish to join the European Union, in spite of all its current flaws.

Croatian voters gave a resounding yes to becoming the 28^th member state of the European Union in a referendum held last Sunday. The country is slated to join as a full member on July 1, 2013, after the parliaments of all 27 current member states ratify the treaty of accession to the EU that Croatia signed in December 2011. The European model of interstate cooperation, the successful European peace project, the single market, and the principle of solidarity and mutual support: all these continue to exert the power of attraction to outsiders wanting to join.

The European Union, founded in 1957, is currently fighting one of its deepest crises: It is struggling to salvage the joint currency of 17 of its 27 member states. Chancellor Angela Merkel of Germany and other EU leaders have equated saving the euro with saving the Union itself.  There is a growing renationalization of politics in European countries, and fear of “others” is on the rise. Despite all this, a European country, Croatia, has decided through a democratic procedure that it wishes to join this European Union.

Croatian leaders have hailed this victory as “a great day for Croatia,” “a new day and a new chapter,” “a decision of such importance that we have made ourselves for the first time,” and “finding a haven guaranteeing security and peace.” But they also underlined that the dilemmas and concerns of those who voted against entry or abstained from voting have to be given due consideration.

The low turnout and the third of voters voting against entry were disappointing for many in Croatia, but also to a degree understandable. The crisis of the European Union, the fear that sovereignty is being taken away — after what has been perceived as a hard-fought war for national independence — the worry that now Croatia might also have to help bail out countries such as Greece, and the deep concern that a country that represents 0.8% of the population of the EU and 1.6% of EU parliamentarians will have no effective say in the affairs of the EU — all this created a relevant Eurosceptic movement and led more than half of the eligible voters to abstain.

In an electorate composed of 4.5 million voters, the turnout was 43.5%. This was, to date, the lowest turnout in an EU accession referendum. Of those who voted, 66.27% were for entry, 33.12% against.

Until now, 15 countries of the EU have asked their citizens to approve accession in referenda. The lowest turnout in a referendum for EU entry before Croatia was in Hungary in 2003, when 45.62% turned out, but 83% voted for joining the Union. Relatively low turnouts were registered in 2003 in the Czech Republic and Poland (55% and 58%) but with 77% majorities for entry. The highest turnout was in Malta with 90%, but “only” 53% voted for entry. Swedish voters in 1995 voted with the lowest majority for entry (52.8%). The biggest majority for entry was in Slovakia with 92.5%, with a 52% turnout. Denmark in 1973 and Finland in 1995 returned less than two-third majorities for entry. Meanwhile, Norway rejected entry twice, in 1973 and 1995, with majorities of 53.3% and 52.2%.

Why did Croatian voters decide to enter the EU? And, why did they do it with somewhat less conviction than their predecessors?

The common wisdom of the Croatian and other Western Balkan publics, where there are majorities for accession, is that it is better, as small and economically weak countries, to join a still very prosperous Union of 500 million people and 27 member states, than to stay outside of it. A Europe that has seen 67 years of post-war peace makes for an inviting haven for the successor states of the former Yugoslavia, who went through a harrowing conflict in the 1990s. For them, entry into the EU is still, above all, a guarantee of security, stability, and peace. In this stricken corner of Europe, the EU’s soft power is very real.

Enlargement of the EU, one of its greatest successes, continues despite “fatigue” — and despite long waiting times. (Croatia handed in its formal application for EU membership in 2003.) The next members in line, apart from Iceland, which is on a fast track, will probably do so at the earliest toward the end of this decade. Montenegro is a formal candidate for EU accession, with a date set for talks; Macedonia is a candidate; Serbia is awaiting candidacy in March. Bosnia and Herzegovina (BiH) has signed a Stabilization and Association Agreement. Kosovo’s case is the most complicated, since it remains unrecognized as a state by Serbia, BiH, and five EU member states, and has as yet no formal relationship with the EU. And then, of course, there is Turkey.

The “Yes” of Croatia’s citizens is a historical watershed: for the country itself, for a formerly war-torn region, and for the EU. It is another step towards the completion of an integrated Europe, free, democratic, and at peace.

Ivan Vejvoda is the German Marshal Fund’s Vice President for Programs

Croatia

On December 4, Croatians went to the polls to choose the government that will lead them into the European Union in 2013.

Tired of numerous political corruption scandals, the most high profile of which was the arrest of a former prime minister, Ivo Sanader (from the conservative HDZ party), and despite the recent anti-corruption drive of the new prime minister, Jadranka Kosor (also HDZ), voters chose a center-left coalition government – The Kukuriku coalition – comprised of the Social Democrats, the Pensioners Party, the Croatian Peoples Party, and a Regional party, the Istrian Democratic Assembly. It was a surprise result even to the winners. In his victory speech, Zoran Milanovic, the Kukuriku candidate for prime minister, declared that the future politics of the Croatian government will be justice and fair payment, with modern values but with respect for tradition.

The new Croatian government will be comprised of people who have clearly thought about what problems need urgent attention in the country. They have held meetings and gatherings since 2009, carefully planning their future steps toward victory. However, their aim included not only winning the elections. This coalition is aware that it will be called on to make tough decisions on budget cuts to handle the country’s economic downturn. This coalition is aware that now is the opportunity to finally reconcile all the national groups within the country. And this coalition is aware of the necessity of regional cross-Balkan cooperation and of the importance of good neighborly relations where dialogue and compromise are the key words. Or, as Milanovic said, embracing it all, “We will do everything for Croatia to become a good place to live in.” Though he had every reason for triumph, his speech was serious and expressed concerns about the difficulties awaiting Croatia and its new government.

The new dawn for Croatia brought a lot of sunshine, but it will be hard to keep it from becoming cloudy given the economic and political realities. Continued support from the European Union and the United States will help chase those clouds away.

Slovenian Elections

In Slovenia, it was a real surprise where Ljubljana mayor Zoran Jankovic claimed victory in their recent elections. The center-left government of Borut Pahor lost its confidence vote in September this year due to the austerity package meant to fix the financial crisis. Pahor is the latest in a series of eurozone leaders who were toppled by the sovereign debt crisis.

Jankovic faces a series of negotiation talks as now everything depends on the willingness of the other parties to form a stable government capable of addressing the crisis. The problem here is that his potential collaborators are quite different in their political nature since one is the Democratic Party of Pensioners, which is strongly against the idea of budget cuts to the public sector, and the other is Civic List and its leader Gregor Virant, a moderate liberal whose party is supportive of drastic measures such as rapid privatization — something with which Jankovic himself is not comfortable. He would prefer a corporate approach in state management of currently public-run companies, but such a government could prove impotent to repairing the damage; there would be a scramble for concessions, which would lead to further financial and political complications, potentially ending in another round of special and early elections.

Gordana Delic is the Director of the German Marshall Fund’s Balkan Trust for Democracy in Belgrade.

WASHINGTON — Ratko Mladic appears today for an arraignment hearing in front of the judges at the UN’s International Criminal Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia (ICTY) in The Hague. The former commander of the Bosnian Serb forces was indicted by the ICTY on November 16, 1995, as peace talks were being held at the Wright-Patterson Air Force Base in Dayton, Ohio, and has been a sought-after fugitive for the last 16 years.  In the meantime, his absence from the ICTY has been the key stumbling block for Serbia to begin the process of joining the European Union.

Arrested by Serbian special forces in a village 70 kilometers north of Belgrade on May 26, and extradited five days later, Mladic will stand trial for charges of genocide, war crimes, and crimes against humanity. He is being tried for his leadership in the siege of Sarajevo that lasted for more than three years (1992-1995) and the massacre at Srebrenica (July 1995), which the International Court of Justice in 2007 characterized as “acts of genocide.”

His political leader, Radovan Karadzic, was apprehended and delivered by the Serbian state in July 2008 and has now been standing trial at the ICTY for the past 18 months. The ICTY had originally intended to put Karadzic and Mladic on trial together, but has to decide whether to continue with separate trials or merge them now that Mladic is in The Hague.

2008 was the turning point in this saga. Serbian President Boris Tadic was reelected, and his party took the helm of the newly elected democratic coalition, where there was full commitment and political will to fulfill the international obligations put before Serbia in turning over the remaining war criminals. The burden of this obligation has been removed.

A common refrain in Serbia for the past ten years was “Every day with Mladic at large is a lost day for Serbia.” In many ways this was true, despite all the democratic reforms that have been accomplished along Serbia’s democratic path. With this significant obstacle removed, Serbia’s road to the EU has cleared significantly, though there are still many kilometers to go. There is sufficient reason to expect that Serbia will become a candidate for membership to the EU in December and now also get a date for the beginning of accession talks to the EU.

This is an historic moment for Serbia, the region, and Europe. With Mladic’s arrest, an important chapter in the post-conflict Western Balkans has been closed. Many have rightly heralded this as a triumph of international justice and the rule of law.  It is also a crucial moment for the families of the victims, even if it is a weak solace because no one can bring back their loved ones. And it will be a further significant step in the process of regional reconciliation, leading to further stability and peace.

This is also proof that confronting the evil-doing of the past begins with the pursuit of justice, both at the international and national levels; Serbia, Croatia, and Bosnia-Herzegovina have all been engaged in trying cases in their own domestic war-crimes tribunals. But this dealing with the past at a judicial level occurs in parallel, as witnessed in other historical precedents, with the longer-term work of society with itself. This is a process to understand how these crimes happened, to find where responsibility lies, and to determine the institutions, procedures, and political and societal dynamics that need to be created  to impede a return of the extremes of suffering. In other words, how does one come about the “habits of the heart” that anchor civic and political freedoms in the rule of law.

War broke out in Europe at the end of the 20^th century in the former Yugoslavia despite all of the post-World War II lessons — which were also taught in Yugoslavia — that it should never happen again. But Yugoslavia’s combination of an absence of democracy and a democratic political culture coupled with nationalist frenzy proved to be fertile ground for conflict. But these lessons should now be well ingrained. All the countries of the region without exception are committed — and for the past decade have endeavored — to join the project of European and Euroatlantic integration. They have all come a long way and are ready for the final — though still difficult and significant — steps.

The European Union soft power is alive and active in the Balkans. NATO has also been an important security component of these integration processes. The EU, along with the support of the United States, can and must prove that the political peace project envisaged by the post-World War II founders and laboriously constructed for over 50 years in the guise of a European Union is capable of being extended to the Western Balkans. As other global and regional challenges unfold, this is place where the transatlantic allies can demonstrate a significant measure of success in a reasonable time frame.

Ivan Vejvoda is the Vice President of Programs for the German Marshall Fund and previously was Executive Director of the Balkan Trust for Democracy.

Photo by Surian Soosay

By Alina Inayeh

BUCHAREST — Nearly four months after a young Tunisian fruit seller burned himself alive out of despair over the corruption of his country and sparked a popular revolt against autocracy that swept the region, thunderstruck leaders on both sides of the Atlantic are finding their voice again. Last week, U.S. President Barack Obama gave a major speech that compared the uprisings with America’s civil rights movement. This week, it was Europe’s turn to answer the call from Northern Africa and the Middle East. By European standards of deliberation, the European Union’s response was atypically timely.

On Wednesday, Baroness Catherine Ashton, the EU’s foreign affairs chief, and Stefan Füle, European Commissioner for Enlargement and European Neighborhood Policy,  released a joint policy paper called, in characteristically dry EU-speak, “A New Response to a Changing Neighborhood.” Technically, this document is the result of a routine review of the EU’s existing neighborhood policy, and was scheduled long before the Arab upheavals. But as events unfolded, it became clear that Europe’s response could no longer be routine. So the advance word was that this would be a bold reaction to the dramatic changes in what remains a very dynamic neighborhood.

But the paper published on Tuesday falls somewhat short of a genuinely bold vision. It does not go so far as to sketch out a desired democratic end state for the nations of the region. That kind of clarity might have made relations with some countries easier. Still, by European standards, it’s a courageous document. Most importantly, it rectifies the chief flaw of the earlier policy by introducing genuine conditionality; it seeks to encourage democratic reforms by offering the carrot of economic support–and threatening to withdraw it in case of backsliding. This in itself is a remarkable affirmation of European principles and values. Civic and opposition party leaders had asked for it in vain for years, and watched in frustration as the EU gave funds to regimes that paid no more than lip service to reform, if that.

Yet reformers and activists in the region still fear that the new policy will share the fate of so many other well-intentioned documents: a slow death by uncoordinated and incoherent implementation. And will the EU, they wonder, manage to preserve the courage of its convictions when it comes to countries like Ukraine and Azerbaijan, which are courted by individual member states for geostrategic and economic reasons?

Here are four modest proposals that could help make a success of Europe’s new neighborhood policy:

First, conditionality needs to be made to work. It has to be translated into clear and objective indicators or benchmarks of economic, social, and political transformation that the EU’s regional partners cannot fudge (but that also won’t allow the EU to move the goalposts) One key indicator–and condition for any further steps in relations with the EU–ought to be a country’s willingness to hold free and fair elections.

Second, good ideas need good processes. The new policy provides several new mechanisms–a European Endowment for Democracy, a Civil Society Facility, Migration Partnerships–to reinforce civil societies in the region, in recognition of the fact that they are key drivers of reform and were ignored by earlier policies. But these now need to be fleshed out and, even more importantly, backed with real political support. At the same time, existing but tired mechanisms like the Union for the Mediterranean and the Eastern Partnership Civil Society Forum need to be shaken up to make them work in the new democratic dispensation.

Third, in a world that is strapped for funds, the new and improved neighborhood policy will have to figure out some more flexible financing mechanisms. For example, the European Commission could consider public-private partnerships to fund different aspects of the policy. These partnerships would have the double benefit of bringing money where it is needed, and of ensuring coordination between various actors active in the same sector, country, or region.

Fourth, the policy remains weak on regional cooperation. In a region scarred by old conflicts, regional cooperation can build bridges where bilateral relations cannot. Cooperation across regional boundaries between civil society organizations, local governments, media, and trade unions can help address issues that national governments shy away from, whether from a lack of resources or political will. If regional cooperation is to be given its full importance, then the most powerful neighbor of Europe, Turkey, must be included.

All in all, the European Union’s new neighborhood policy looks better than many observers had feared. It could even be a sign that Europe is finally getting serious about its neighbors. It would be a very important achievement for the Polish Presidency of the EU (which begins on June 1) if it made sure that enough political push is provided to make the policy work.

The Arab Spring has shamed many in Europe into reconsidering their previous support for stability over dignity, human rights, and fundamental freedoms. So perhaps there is indeed scope for bold action. Still, there will be many tests of Europe’s resolve–the next fraudulent election, the next TV station to be shut down, or the next party to be banned. The next test may come far sooner than we would like.

Alina Inayeh directs the Black Sea Trust for Regional Cooperation and the German Marshall Fund’s Bucharest Office.

Photo by Jasab

BUCHAREST — Sometimes, democratic progress can be gauged with a ruler. Last Sunday in Moldova, it measured exactly 94.5 centimeters or almost 37 inches—the length of the ballot paper Moldovan voters were issued when they went to the polls for the third time in the last 19 months to elect a parliament. A total of 20 political parties and 19 independent candidates registered for the November 28 parliamentary elections, competing for 101 seats in the Moldovan legislature.

The citizens of Moldova—including those living abroad—acknowledged the importance of these elections with an impressive 59 percent voter turnout. In Moldova’s capital, Chisinau, over 60 percent of those who were registered to vote went to cast their ballots on Sunday. A record number of people voted outside Moldova, too, forming long lines at Moldovan Embassies in Bucharest, Paris, and Moscow, clearly determined to exercise their constitutional right. International observers concluded that yesterday’s early parliamentary elections in Moldova met most OSCE and Council of Europe commitments and were administered in a transparent and impartial manner, having been held in a competitive and pluralistic environment.

Twenty-four hours later and after counting all the ballots, the final results placed the Communist Party of Moldova in the lead with 39 percent. Prime Minister Vlad Filat’s Liberal Democratic Party came second with 29 percent and can be considered the winner of these elections, gaining an additional 13 percent on top of their vote in the July 2009 elections. Marian Lupu and his Democratic Party came out third with 12 percent, followed by the Liberal Party, led by Acting President Mihai Ghimpu, with just short of 10 percent. The Alliance Moldova Noastra, the fourth component of the pro-western Alliance for European Integration, did not garner enough votes to pass the 4-percent threshold and will not make it into the next legislature.

Although the Communist Party remains the largest faction in the next parliament with 42 MPs, the decrease in the Communists’ support is noticeable. They have lost eighteen seats over the last three election cycles. The remaining three democratic parties combined will now have 59 seats. This would allow them to appoint the Prime Minister, as well as the next Speaker of the Parliament, but not the President, which would require a three-fifths majority of 61.

Following Sunday’s elections, Moldova is in the same situation it has been for the last year-and-a-half. The previous two parliaments failed to elect a president. Now, since none of the parties represented in the future parliament has 61 votes, there will have to be yet another round of negotiations. Members of the Alliance for European Integration have said on a number of occasions that they would like to preserve the alliance after the elections, despite having conducted separate electoral campaigns. Prime Minister Filat, now heading the second-largest party in the next parliament with 32 MPs, has already invited his former coalition partners, Marian Lupu and Mihai Ghimpu, to discuss the next steps. The leader of the Communist Party and former president of Moldova, Vladimir Voronin, also has voiced his willingness to discuss future governing coalitions with Lupu and with Filat as possible partners, but ruled out any potential partnership with the Acting President Ghimpu and his party.

Filat has made it clear that a coalition with the Communists is out of the question for him and his Liberal Democratic Party. The Democratic Party of Marian Lupu is only eligible for 15 seats in the next parliament. But Lupu (himself a former Communist) has indicated that he is willing to consider cooperation with the Communists. This gives his Democrats the biggest bargaining power in future post-electoral governing structures. Lupu has publicly declared his aspirations to become the next president of Moldova. Still, the Democrats and the Communists together will only have 57 votes—so they will need the Liberals’ support.

Despite these uncertain coalition prospects (and the possibility of a renewed blockade), these elections do demonstrate that Moldova is striving for democratic maturity. The decrease in support for the pro-Russian Communist Party, as well as the growing number of voters who favor the Western-oriented democratic parties show that Moldovan society is changing. This has not gone unnoticed by the international community there, which is showing support. Only last week, the EU agreed to allocate Moldova 41 million euros to help build state institutional capacity, along with an additional 79 million euros to support Moldova’s business environment, create new jobs, and transfer experience and expertise from European institutions. These are concrete examples that Moldova is on the right track. Now, Moldovan politicians need to realize that lingering political crises are no longer allowed if Moldova’s wish to become part of the European political family is to be taken seriously.

Dinu Toderascu is a Program Officer with the Bucharest Office of the German Marshall Fund

1999, 2010: these dates mark history in the Balkans. Eleven years ago, NATO waged an air war against Serbia over the treatment of Serbia’s southernmost province. Since then, the longstanding dispute over the status of Kosovo has been conducted through diplomatic and legal wrangling instead. On July 22, the highest court in the UN system, the International Court of Justice (ICJ), ruled that Kosovo’s declaration of independence in February 2008 did not violate international law. As Winston Churchill inimitably said: “jaw-jaw is better than war-war.” But the rulings of the International Court in The Hague are non-binding. So what happens now?

The ICJ’s advisory opinion was hailed as a political victory in Kosovo, and by the 69 countries that have to date recognized its independence (they include 22 of the 27 member states of the European Union). In Belgrade (whose government had asked the court for its opinion), President Boris Tadic admitted that this was a “heavy blow” to Serbia. Some Belgrade newspaper columns talked of a “new defeat for Serbia.”

In truth, the ICJ’s ruling is less unambiguous than it seems, and not just because 4 of the 14 judges on the bench dissented. In examining the legality of Kosovo’s declaration of independence, the court was helped by Serbia’s narrow framing of the question, which enabled the judges to avoid the key issue of whether Kosovo actually had the right to secede.
The political reality, nonetheless, is that the approximately 2 million Albanians in Kosovo do not wish to live under Belgrade’s rule, nor do the Serbs of Kosovo wish to live under Pristina’s rule. The Serbian state retreated from Kosovo after signing the June 9, 1999, Kumanovo agreement, but retained formal sovereignty through UN Security Council Resolution 1244.

Behind this reality on the ground loom existential political issues: how can Kosovo function as a state? What is the legal status of the ethnic Serbs that live in the northernmost tip of Kosovo, around the city of Mitrovica, and how can they be protected? How can rights and security for all Serbs in Kosovo be enhanced? What status and protection will there be for the Orthodox monasteries south of the Ibar River, which runs through the city? One thing only is certain: Serbia’s — and Kosovo’s — future in Europe depends on a peaceful, negotiated answer to these questions.

Formally, the position of both sides remains clear and unchanged. Belgrade states that it will not recognize the independence of Kosovo; Kosovo contends that it is fully independent and wishes to be recognized as such by Serbia.

Yet even before the ICJ ruling, it was understood by all sides that this legal process would be a necessary rite of passage before opening the next chapter in the negotiations between Serbia and Kosovo. Belgrade and Pristina both have said that they have chosen and want to work for a future in the European Union. Even more importantly, they have made it clear that they are committed to peaceful resolution of all outstanding issues. Very few people, whether in government or civil society, seek a renewal of the conflicts of the 1990s, which cost the people of the Balkans so heavily. And despite the remaining animosities and unresolved issues, violence on the ground has become the exception rather than the rule. In a region scarred by a decade of war and conflict, this is no small feat.

The road to any settlement will still be long and arduous. The unresolved questions range from the existential/political (the legal position of Northern Kosovo, which remains de-facto under international administration but not under Pristina) to the technical (customs, police cooperation, electricity, water, and the like). In both countries, a war-weary public wants its government to make constructive moves; but in both, a minority of diehard opponents will try to block reconciliation. No one should underestimate just how difficult it will be for both sides to execute these manoeuvres.

The story of the Balkans is a quintessentially European story about competing claims for identity, sovereignty, and independence on a continent profoundly marked by ethnic, religious, cultural, linguistic, and political diversity and differences. The conflicts in Tyrol and Northern Ireland are (mostly, anyway) resolved; Cyprus remains unresolved; in Spain, the Basques and Catalans are still pulling away from Madrid.

In this story, the Balkans are the next chapter; and the European Union (backed by the United States) has a key role to play in it. What is the European project about if not peaceful post-war reconciliation? The Western Balkans — with Serbia and Kosovo at their heart — are one of the last missing pieces of this project. The transformational pull of Europe is already visible in the whole region. But the EU can do even more to promote cooperation, and help improve the lives of the people. Catherine Ashton, the EU’s new High Representative for Foreign and Security Policy, said on the day of the ICJ ruling that “the EU is…ready to facilitate a process of dialogue” between Pristina and Belgrade, which was an important signal to the entire region. The priority and promise of enlargement of the EU to the Western Balkans based on merit is the crucial framework for a successful way forward.

Still, Belgrade and Pristina remain the two main players in these settlement negotiations. And the process of dialogue (firmly encouraged by the EU and the United States) will in itself be a factor for peace, security, and stability in the region. It buys time, and builds trust; both are sorely needed. The ruling of the ICJ has now handed the question of how to achieve a durable peace back to the actors. In essence, it is saying, time for jaw-jaw after law-law.

Ivan Vejvoda directs the German Marshall Fund’s Balkan Trust for Democracy in Belgrade

BELGRADE — War was not supposed to happen again in Europe.  For decades, children had been taught in schools across the continent of the horrors perpetrated by Nazis and Fascists and Communists, by foreign invaders and domestic collaborators. Yet despite all this, in the early 1990s Yugoslavia was once again the scene of war and slaughter while Europe, and the world, looked on helplessly.  History was not only not over; it could repeat itself.

Appalling war crimes and crimes against humanity were committed in the wars that resulted in the breakup of Yugoslavia. In Bosnia and Herzegovina alone some 100,000 people were killed between 1992 and 1995, and many more were wounded and displaced.  In this catastrophe of human suffering, the killers came from all sides—Bosniaks, Serbs, and Croats— and no side was spared, although the Bosniaks suffered most of all.

One particularly horrific act of carnage stands out among the many: the July 1995 massacre at Srebrenica, where around 8000 Bosniak men and boys were killed by the Republika Srpska army commanded by Ratko Mladic.  At the time, the town was a United Nations safe area.  The 400-strong UN battalion, manned by Dutch soldiers, that was guarding it proved incapable of preventing the atrocities. Four years later, the then Secretary General of the United Nations Kofi Annan wrote, “Srebrenica is the biggest shame in the history of the United Nations.”

Fifteen years have passed since that act of genocide. On July 11, the commemoration at the Srebrenica Memorial Center in the village of Potocari brought together thousands of people, from foreign dignitaries to the families of 775 newly-identified victims (whose total number now stands at about 6500).

Neither former Yugoslavs nor the international community have forgotten the horrors of the crimes committed.  In June 2004, the government of the Republika Srpska, one of the two entities comprising Bosnia and Herzegovina, published its own formal investigative report. It is largely forgotten, but is nonetheless a well-researched and detailed document outlining the events that occurred and naming the individuals responsible.

On February 26, 2007, the International Court of Justice (ICJ) in The Hague defined the massacre at Srebrenica as genocide in a ruling on a claim brought by Bosnia and Herzegovina against the Serb-dominated Federal Republic of Yugoslavia. It did not hold Belgrade responsible for that genocide but ruled that its authorities “should have made the best effort within their power to try and prevent the tragic events then taking shape.” The court also underlined that genocide did not occur anywhere else in Bosnia and Herzegovina during the 1992-95 conflict.

Nonetheless, Serbia’s new democratic government has not been idle with regard to its responsibilities. President Boris Tadic went to Srebrenica on the occasion of the 10^th and again on the 15^th anniversary of the Srebenica massacre, to pay tribute to the victims.  Earlier this year, in March, the parliament in Belgrade found it within itself to approve the Declaration on Srebrenica, referring directly to the February 2007 ruling of the ICJ, and unequivocally condemning the war crimes and the politics that led to them. It also apologized to the families of the Bosnian Muslim victims and expressed their condolences.

The declaration also reiterated Serbia’s determination to arrest Ratko Mladic who, regrettably, remains at large. Two years ago, Serbia arrested Radovan Karadzic, the former President of the Republika Srpska, and sent him to the International Criminal Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia (ICTY), where officers of the Army of Republika Srpska were convicted for the genocide in Srebrenica.  Serbia would do well to intensify the hunt for Mladic and thus help fulfill its obligation towards the ICTY.

The confrontation with a past of war crimes committed in the name of a nation and its citizens is a complex and lengthy process that must be pursued for the sake of reconciliation, peace and democracy. It has two tracks. The first is justice, international and domestic. International justice has been meted out principally at the ICTY and ICJ, while domestic justice is dispensed at special war crimes tribunals in Serbia, Croatia and Bosnia and Herzegovina, set up around the turn of the millennium.

The second track is more complicated: a society facing up to itself. But how does a society come to terms with what was done in its name? Historical precedents – such as Germany, Japan, Argentina or Spain – teach that this requires time, perhaps even the passing of generations.

It is for the democratically elected leaders of Southeastern Europe to pursue reconciliation and the rebuilding of trust. But this means, first and foremost, recognizing  the crimes committed against other communities while appreciating that this in no way diminishes the suffering that one’s own nation has lived through.  It requires continuous efforts by the state, civil society and journalists to discover the truth behind the most painful episodes of war.

All this is now being done in the Balkans – but it must be consistently pursued, whatever the political, social and economic obstacles, for the sake of a more stable, democratic and peaceful future in the European Union.  As for the massacre at Srebrenica, the single bloodiest crime during the Yugoslav wars, it is essential that we never cease remembering that horrific crime and its victims.

Ivan Vejvoda is Executive Director of the Balkan Trust for Democracy.

SOFIA — Bulgarian Prime Minister Boyko Borisov announced last Friday that his government cancelled the Burgas–Alexandroupolis oil pipeline project and suspended the Belene nuclear power plant construction. That statement was linked by local and international observers to the recent visit to Sofia of CIA Director Leon Panetta and to strategic energy security concerns of the United States in the region. Both projects have been planned as Russian-dominated initiatives, and their implementation would seriously extend Moscow’s energy monopoly in Bulgaria and in the wider Balkan region. We don’t know what Mr. Borisov and Mr. Panetta talked about, yet the decision to stop or postpone two big projects in the energy field was considered a “tilt” of official Sofia from partnership with Moscow to closer strategic cooperation with the United States. (Stratfor, June 13)

All those considerations are on the borderline between reality and conspiracy theory that often happens in analyzing Balkan or Russian-related events. What we know for sure about those two Russian energy projects in Bulgaria is that they are generally unsustainable, both economically and environmentally. The oil pipeline between Black Sea port of Burgas and the Greek Aegean port Alexandroupolis was planned in the early 1990s, yet it was often deserted for a simple reason — Russia did not have enough oil to fill in the pipe. The project was revived in 2007 with President Putin’s visit to Athens, where he signed preliminary protocols with Bulgaria’s President Parvanov and Greek Premier Karamanlis. The Russian side kept the ownership of 51 percent of the project, informally compensating Athens for its minority share with an informal promise to employ the Greek tankers’ fleet to ship the oil through the Black Sea and the Mediterranean. Bulgaria was not compensated in any way for providing its territory, except for the presumed benefit of maintaining a historical friendship with Russia. At the end of the day, Sofia was to invest about $330 million in the pipeline construction and expect about $35 million annually in transit fees. The pipeline, designed to bypass the Turkish Straits, was to cut across a natural reserve in southeast Bulgaria, causing significant damage by logging and exterminating the habitats of Red Book endangered species.

However, the biggest threat to the environment could be posed by tankers discharging oil to buoys in the open bay of Burgas given the unpredictable weather in the area. An oil spill in the Black Sea from a facility from which Bulgaria profits only peanuts may easily spoil the tourist season along the Bulgarian Black Sea coast, which is estimated to generate at least $500-700 million annually. The only reasonable explanation for why Bulgaria joined this project in the first place is that it was the result of vested interests of previous governments’ officials who acted against the national interest.

The Belene nuclear power plant project was launched in 1980, was deserted in the fall of communism, and was revived following the premature closure of four Bulgarian nuclear reactor units at the existing Kozludui power plant. The closure was enforced by Brussels as a precondition for the country’s accession into the EU. Manipulated auction procedures made Russian AtomStroyExport the predetermined winner to construct the new Belene power plant, while clear investment plans, electricity market assessments and cost-benefit analyses were absent. The initial cost of the project was estimated at four to six billion euros, leaving wide twilight zones for unlimited growth of that figure in the future by means of addition of contract annexes. Public debate on the project was silenced by Bulgaria’s nuclear lobby in partnership with the ex-communist Socialist government of 2005-2009. However, the arguments against Belene were quite reasonable. The power plant would extend Russian energy monopoly over Bulgaria for decades ahead. Belene would be the first nuclear project of Russia on EU soil after 1990, and the economic consequences for local markets would prove quite unfavorable. The project’s size would contribute to a monopoly over the energy system nationwide and prevent the development of an open energy market.

The global financial crisis has hampered the Bulgarian government’s plans to invest into the Belene project as a majority shareholder. The Russian government offered to make the investment instead, but that would further strengthen its monopoly over the project and within the energy system in general. The government of Prime Minister Borisov declined the offer, insisting on attracting a reliable package of European and international funds into the power plant investment scheme. Unless such funds are made available, the project will remain frozen.

Here we come to the arguments of political and strategic implications of the Russian-owned projects in Bulgaria. The Belene project, the Burgas–Alexandroupolis pipeline, and the Gazprom South Stream gas pipeline project — designed to span the Balkans as an alternative to the Western-sponsored Nabucco gas pipeline — extend the Russian energy monopoly in Bulgaria and in the entire region. Moscow never treats energy as a commercial asset only — trading with energy serves the long-term strategic plans of Russia’s resurgence as a regional superpower in Eastern Europe. Bulgaria does not need to “tilt” to Washington or Brussels in giving up non-beneficial energy projects with Russia. The country is part of the EU and NATO and, therefore, a member of Western security and economic alliances. Russian energy monopoly over the Bulgarian economy could peacefully co-exist with the country’s alliance in the Western institutions in an environment of improving relations between Moscow, Brussels, and Washington. Yet we have no insurance of such improvement of relations for the future. A period of revived tensions between East and West would tear Bulgaria between its loyalties to NATO and the EU and its vulnerability to Russian strategic pressure.

The Friday statement of Prime Minister Borisov to cancel or suspend unfavorable energy projects on Bulgarian soil is a clear “tilt” to the Bulgarian national interest: the same interest which had been obviously neglected by previous senior power holders in favor of “gray-zone” vested interests. Does that decision serve the interests of the West? Probably, yes, to the extent that partners and allies tend to have common interests.

Ognyan Minchev is the Executive Director of the Institute for Regional and International Studies in Sofia. The views are his own.

BRUSSELS — A specter is starting to haunt wider Europe — those countries located between the EU and NATO on one hand and Russia on the other.     That specter is “Finlandization.”   The return of this Cold War phrase reveals much about the changing spirit of the times and geopolitics of European security today. “Finlandization” refers to the policy imposed   on Finland after World War II to pursue a foreign policy of neutrality that took the strategic interests and demands of the Soviet Union into account while preserving a democratic political system and avoiding the adoption of a communist system or becoming a satellite state, as was the case in Central and Eastern Europe.  

While the term is often used in a pejorative fashion, it is historically unfair to Finland itself, a small Nordic country that fought the Red Army to a draw in order to guard its independence and then managed to preserve it for 40 years.   As communism and the Soviet Union collapsed at the end of the Cold War, Helsinki used this new window of opportunity to move westward: it swiftly joined the European Union and created the option to join NATO by meeting all of the Alliance’s criteria in advance, an option it has heretofore chosen not to implement but could do so expeditiously if political currents changed.  

But the phrase is slipping back into modern usage–as a potential future option for those countries in wider Europe.   It is a shorthand way to describe a Russian policy that seeks to limit the foreign policy choices and sovereignty of countries on its borders and preclude their joining NATO or seeking a westward course in what Moscow sees as its sphere of privileged interest.   Moscow has been engaged in a political offensive on this front since the 2008 Russia-Georgia war.   It has recently been focusing on using soft power to tie a country like Ukraine more closely to it and to deny Kiev a Western option.

Moscow is not only seeking assurances from these countries that they will not seek to join the West.   It is also seeking assurances from Western nations that they recognize this alleged sphere of special interest — and potentially give their tacit agreement to such new notions of limited sovereignty.   That is one of the main issues embedded   in a series of Russian policy pronouncements and the European security proposal of Russian President Dmitry Medvedev. While no Western leader has yet endorsed this idea as official policy, one doesn’t have to travel very far in the diplomatic corridors before running across diplomats who are asking out loud whether some new and modern version of “Finlandization” might become an acceptable policy for countries whose prospects for Western integration seem to be sinking.    

What has brought this idea back from its Cold War grave?   One factor is the perception that the historic opportunity for democratic enlargement that opened after 1989 is slowly closing. The United States’ preoccupation with the major challenges it currently faces in southwest Asia and the wider Middle East has, rightly or wrongly, contributed to the sense that American diplomacy and power is no longer available to help extend the vision of a Europe whole and free deeper into the post-Soviet space.    Enlargement fatigue, growing Russian opposition, the more complicated nature of some of the candidates — and now the Euro crisis — have all moved enlargement   off the front burner of Western policy priorities.   The combination of Russian assertiveness, European weakness, and American distraction has helped to spawn the view that the historical window for democratic enlargement may be coming to a close and that the West   needs a new, pragmatic compromise with Russia on wider Europe.

There is a problem, however.   A return to Finlandization — or some other form of limited sovereignty under a different name — would mark an historical setback.   It would be a direct refutation of some of the founding principles of the Charter of Paris from November 1990 — the document that was supposed to be the cornerstone and a kind of bill of rights of a new post-Cold War European cooperative security architecture.   That document — along with its successors — explicitly  guarantees the right of a country to be able to choose its own domestic and foreign policy path.     It would be the end of a vision that three U.S. presidents have been committed to and worked for since 1989 — the belief in a new cooperative European security structure that abolishes previous concepts of a balance of power, sphere of influence, and limited sovereignty.

Moscow today seeks to halt the further enlargement of Western institutions closer to its borders through a new version of Finlandization.   But what is also clear is that the West no longer has a clear consensus or strategy for what we seek to achieve today with these countries.   We affirm our commitment to the old principles but are unsure how to pursue or operationalize them in a changed political and strategic context.   If we want to ensure that Finlandization remains a historical phrase and not a current one, we need a new strategy of enlargement. As the American saying goes: you can’t beat something with nothing.  

Ronald D. Asmus is Executive Director of the Brussels-based Transatlantic Center and is responsible for strategic planning at the German Marshall Fund of the United States.

BUCHAREST — On May 9, the streets of Moscow will witness a rare and memorable spectacle. In a parade marking the 65^th anniversary of Victory Day – the end of World War II, when Germany surrendered to Soviet commanders – 10,500 servicemen will march through Moscow for this special celebration, accompanied by 150 military vehicles. Former allied troops (British, American, French, and Polish) will march alongside soldiers from former Soviet Union countries. The Russian authorities have promised this will be the biggest and most impressive military show in Moscow in the last 65 years – and they know a thing or two about military shows.

Yet the politics on display may well turn out to be even more remarkable. For the official stands will be shared by old, current, and future allies and enemies, in a panoramic picture of Europe spanning 65 years. Watching the parade will be the Russian leadership – first among them President Dmitri Medvedev and Prime Minister Vladimir Putin. They will be joined by German Chancellor Angela Merkel, French President Nicolas Sarkozy, and a host of other European notables.   The symbolism is, of course, deliberate: peaceful relations between Europe and Russia guarantee peace and stability on the continent. Yet it is also a reminder that the relationship is rooted to a significant degree in natural resources and hard power: Europe’s dependency on Russian gas, matched by Russia’s thirst for technology, furthered by potential sales of advanced military technology, and deepened by talks of a common security architecture.

Moreover, the notion of a “peace in Europe” works only if you firmly ban from your memory the wars and conflicts that took place since the end of the Cold War (from the Balkans to Chechnya to Georgia, to name only a few), and if you define Europe – as the Russians like to do – as contiguous with the territorial reach of the European Union. Even so, it’s hard to ignore the fact that the arc between Northeastern Europe and the Southern Caucasus remains a highly combustible zone, as well as a wellspring for organized crime and illicit trade of all kinds, from people to drugs and weapons, and coming from as far away as the Middle East and Asia.

Also present in the stands will be leaders from the Commonwealth of Independent States (CIS) – the club of former members of the Soviet Union. They are meeting at an informal summit a day earlier, with foreign policy cooperation as one of the main issues on the agenda. What this cooperation could look like was exemplified only a short while ago by the recent shift in Ukraine foreign policy toward a more Moscow-friendly stance.  Cooperation between Russia and what it used to call its “near abroad” could translate into progress and development for Russia’s neighboring countries; but for now, it appears to mean control over their military alliances, stimulation of social divisions, prevalence of Russia’s economic interests, and continuation of conflicts throughout the region.

Ukraine, Moldova, Armenia, Azerbaijan, Georgia, and Russia itself remain tied to a history and present that is marked by conflicts generated or catalyzed by the breaking up of the Soviet Union, and whose prolongation obstructs their economic and political development.  Georgian troops, of course, will not be marching in the parade, and Georgian leaders will be nowhere close to the other VIPs. Their absence will remind onlookers of the August 2008 war between Russia and Georgia, which was in no small degree responsible for Russia’s current surge of confidence, and two “solved” frozen conflicts (in Abkhazia and South Ossetia) by declaring them independent entities.

Only the absence of the Moldovan president Mihai Ghimpu will remind those who care to notice that this tiny country disapproves of Moscow’s neighborhood policy and is seeking economic and political integration with the West. Perhaps next year’s parade attendance roster may tell us whether it succeeded or not.

Former European enemies standing together to commemorate the end of one of the most terrible and bitter wars in human memory: that is indeed a reassuring sign of the continent’s enduring commitment to peace. Yet there is another, more subtle message in the lineup: authoritarian countries claiming “spheres of influence” have not fostered security, development, and prosperity in the past. And they are not doing so now.

Editor’s note: Corrected the description of the CIS to be the former Soviet Union states.

Alina Inayeh directs the Black Sea Trust and the German Marshall Fund’s office in Bucharest