Richard Mertens
Special to The Christian Science Monitor
That turned out to be the easy part. More
recently, he's been trying to persuade
local Serbs and ethnic Albanians to work
together again at a limestone quarry.
"It's surprising to me," says Colonel
Reese, who at 6-foot-4 looks every inch
a tank commander. "We're designed to
fight, not to do this." But in missions such
as Kosovo, soldiers increasingly are
being called upon to foster peace more
than to wage war.
The Glama quarry lies just north of
Gnjlane, a town inhabited by both Serbs
and ethnic Albanians in the heart of
Kosovo's American-patrolled sector. The
quarry is part of a large state-owned
construction company that historically has
been the largest employer in town.
Before NATO airstrikes this spring
ended the Serb crackdown on rebellious
ethnic Albanians, the workforce was
mixed. Now the company is run by ethnic
Albanians using only ethnic Albanian
workers. Reese, with the help of other
Western officials, has been trying to
change that.
What's at stake at this and other
workplaces is the future of Serbs in
Kosovo - officially still part of Serbia -
and the success of the international
peacekeeping mission here. NATO-led
forces entered Kosovo on June 12,
ending more than two months of killings
and forced expulsions.
Since then, Albanian Kosovars, who
outnumber Serbs by 10 to 1, have taken
over most public institutions and
state-owned enterprises. Serb workers
have been forced out or have left out of
fear for their safety. On Sunday, some 50
Serbs in Gnjlane reportedly sent a
petition to the NATO-led force
demanding better protection from what
they termed "continuing harassment,
looting, robbery" and physical attacks.
While safety is a priority, Resse says, it is
not enough.
"For Serb communities in my area, there
is basically 100 percent unemployment,"
he says. "If there is any hope of them
staying in the region over the long run,
they're going to need more."
An opportunity arose this fall when the
construction company of which Glama
quarry is a part needed materials. The
company needed to blast to quarry more
rock, and to blast it needed permission to
import explosives. The Americans said
yes - but only if the company hired Serbs.
"In principle they agreed to it," Reese
says. "In practice, there were always
obstacles."
Employment has been an emotional issue.
In 1989, when Belgrade cancelled the
province's autonomy, it also took over
management of state-owned enterprises,
utilities, hospitals, and other public
institutions. It installed Serb managers and
fired most of the Albanian workers.
When NATO occupied Kosovo,
Albanians reclaimed their old jobs, and in
most cases, Serbs were no longer
welcome.
International efforts to reverse this trend
have almost universally failed. But people
like Reese keep trying. The Glama quarry
is not his first attempt. In September,
Reese intervened to keep Serbs from
leaving a bottling plant and health spa in a
village 15 miles down the road, but the
results were disappointing. The ethnic
Albanian in charge was a former
commander in the Kosovo Liberation
Army, raising fears of harassment. The
number of Serb workers has dwindled to
just 16.
To prevent attacks against them at the
quarry, Serb workers were promised an
armed escort and permanent guard at
work sites. But other issues sprang up. In
some villages, local Serb leaders wanted a
better deal: more Serbs hired, and Serb managers
back in charge. "They wanted
everything or nothing," Reese says. "So
they got nothing."
In the end, only 27 former Serb workers
came to an interview with quarry
company managers, about a third of what
the Americans had hoped for. Four
declared that they would not work for
Albanians. The Albanians rejected all but
six of the rest. The Americans insisted
that the company hire all 23.
Slobodan Djekic is one of them. He lives
in Stanisor, a village of about 50 houses
just a mile from the Glama quarry. Mr.
Djekic says he is eager to work, but
won't return unless all 35 workers from
his village are hired too. "If just some
Serbs go to work and other Serbs don't,
there will be resentment."
Quarry director Muhamet Halili says the
company has always been willing to hire
Serbs. But an assistant, Vaxhit Qirimi,
says, "If they have clean hands they can
come back and work here." He adds,
"There is not one Serb in 1,000 who has
clean hands. There is not one Serb in
100,000 who has clean hands."
This week, blasting is due to resume at
the quarry. But it remains uncertain when,
and if, Serbs will return to work.
As for Reese, his mission ended two
weeks ago and he returned to his base in
Germany, leaving his tanks and labor
troubles to his replacement and
understanding better than when he came
the limits to peacekeeping in Kosovo.
"I don't think the international community
can force [Serbs and ethnic Albanians] to
get along," he says. "We can force them
to do a lot of things, but we can't force
them to be partners in a multiethnic state."
Still, he hasn't given up hope for Glama.
"I think this quarry has a chance," he
says. "It's going to take a lot of work, but
I think it has a chance."