Eurasia Daily Monitor
February 22, 2008 -- Volume 5, Issue 34
THERE IS A KOSOVA PRECEDENT, THOUGH NOT WHAT MOSCOW SAYS IT IS
by Vladimir Socor
Russia has failed to exploit Kosova's independence from Serbia as a
`precedent' for conflict-resolution through partition in Georgia, Moldova,
or Azerbaijan (see EDM, February 19). Nor could Moscow stop Kosova's move to
Western-supervised independence and its international recognition. Moscow
had insisted that Kosova's internationally recognized independence would
entitle Russia to recognize and officially protect post-Soviet secessionist
territories outside Russia. That thesis met ultimately with universal
rejection.
Even so, the success of Western policy in this regard is a limited
one, just like that policy itself. It accepted all along Moscow's
restrictive framework of discussion on what would or would not constitute a
`Kosova precedent' and its applicability. That discussion focused on the
legal issue of international recognition. Russia claimed, and the Western
side denied, that a precedent was being set in Kosova for Russia to use in
post-Soviet territories.
This Western response stops short of recognizing that the outcome in
Kosova has actually established a precedent and potential model for
resolution of post-Soviet conflicts. Its nature differs fundamentally both
from the Moscow-imagined `legal' precedent and from the actual model
practiced by Moscow and its clients on the ground. In Kosova, engagement by
the institutional West became the defining factor. This has succeeded in
reversing the mass ethnic cleansing, halting Greater-Nation-type military
expansionism (Greater Serbia in this particular case), and offering a
European perspective to all interested sides as a corollary to resolution of
the conflict.
That is the usable political precedent and model developed in Kosova.
Its norms and objectives await implementation, albeit with a somewhat
different mix of instruments, in settling the unresolved conflicts on the
territories of Georgia, Azerbaijan, and Moldova.
Russia kept silent about these implications and took a purely
formal-legalistic approach to the issue of precedent. Moscow claimed that
Western recognition of Kosova's secession, without UN approval and lacking
Serbia's consent, would constitute that `precedent.' Russia warned that it
could use such a `precedent' unilaterally and recognize post-Soviet
secessions, in its own interest and those of its protégés there.
The United States, European Union, and other Western actors responded
by insisting that Kosova is a sui-generis case, a unique combination of
factors requiring this particular solution, and unusable as a `precedent' by
Russia in the post-Soviet conflicts. Such a response is defensive and
tactical in nature, narrowly designed to refute Moscow's legally couched
doctrine of a `Kosova precedent,' but not looking any farther than that.
Political parallels were often drawn between the post-Yugoslav and
post-Soviet conflicts by every interested party at one time or another
throughout the duration of these conflicts. Russia's thesis connecting
recognition of Kosova legalistically with recognition of the post-Soviet
enclaves was novel only in its self-serving narrowness, but was by no means
a novel procedure as such. Precedents -- whether real or perceived --
figured prominently all along in the policy debates.
Thus, in 1990-91, the U.S. administration and key European governments
supported Yugoslavia's `territorial integrity' and its preservation, so as
to avoid a `precedent' that could have worked against the Soviet Union. That
logic failed to halt the disintegration of either the Soviet Union or
Yugoslavia. Ultimately it made it easier for hardliners in Belgrade and
Moscow to orchestrate armed conflicts in the early 1990s. By mid-decade,
however, the United States and European Union at last lived up to their
responsibilities in pacifying Bosnia-Herzegovina and reversing most of the
ethnic cleansing there.
Georgia regarded that Western intervention as a valuable and usable
precedent. For years thereafter, Tbilisi often cited the case of Bosnia in
calling for international peacekeeping in Abkhazia and return of Georgian
expellees to their homes there. From 1999 to date, Western success in
reversing the ethnic cleansing of Kosovars and keeping Serbia's military out
has laid the basis for a conflict-resolution model.
Ultimately, Moscow sought to invert the international recognition of
Kosova into a `precedent' for recognition of Russia's clients in the
post-Soviet conflicts. Russia poses as defender of territorial integrity
under international law with regard to Serbia while at the same time
supporting the seizure of territories from Georgia and Azerbaijan and
occupying itself territory in Moldova, all this against international law.
This glaring contradiction notwithstanding, Russia managed to narrow
down the debate to the issue of recognition of secessions or
precedent-setting for such processes. With this it also managed to confuse
or intimidate a few governments. Among these Spain, Romania, and Moldova
stand out for reacting in almost panicked tones to the recognition of Kosova
by most Western countries.
Spain, which has just rotated out of the OSCE's Chairmanship, issued
an anguished declaration of its Minister of Foreign Affairs Miguel Angel
Moratinos, protesting against the `violation of international law' by the
countries ready to recognize Kosova (El Pais, February 18). These countries
include the great majority of Spain's allies in the EU and NATO. They had
already called Moscow's bluff about Kosova setting a precedent for ethnic
separatisms everywhere. But Madrid apparently fell for Moscow's bluff with
regard to Spain's Basque country and Catalonia. On the other hand, as OSCE
Chairman-in-Office during 2007 Moratinos had made no attempt to correct
Russia's breaches of international law in the post-Soviet conflicts, where
he displayed a Russia-First approach.
The Romanian president, government, and parliament each issued
statements decrying the `violation of Serbia's territorial integrity,'
terming Kosova's independence `illegal,' and even pledging to not recognize
Kosova. As against independence, Romania calls for Kosova's autonomy within
Serbia (Rompres, February 18-20). Apart from remnants of traditional
pro-Serbian sympathy, Bucharest's position stems from concerns about
`precedent-setting' for secession by Romania's Hungarian ethnic minority or
`collective rights' for it (concerns harbored also by a more nationalist
government in Slovakia). Bucharest's logic seems self-contradictory.
Kosovar autonomy could theoretically become a usable `precedent' for
elements in the Hungarian minority to call for autonomy or collective
rights. Thus, Romanian-favored autonomy for Kosova could hypothetically
stimulate the consequences that Bucharest seeks to avoid. By contrast,
Kosova's independence is clearly not a usable precedent with regard to
Romania's Hungarian minority, because its compact bulk resides in the center
of the country and has no conceivable way to avail itself of a secession
precedent, even on the irrational assumption that it wished to do so.
Romania and Moldova agree on almost nothing at the official level, but
they turned out to share their opposition to Kosova's independence, out of
unsubstantiated fear of a `precedent.' In line with Russia's position,
Moldovan President Vladimir Voronin and the government each issued a
statement expressing `profound concern' about Kosova's Western recognition
and calling for continuing negotiations (Moldpres, February 18, 19, 20).
Moldova had maintained a cautious silence on the Kosova issue up to this
point. Breaking its studied silence in this manner signified a loss of
composure as well as a personal bow to Moscow's stance on the eve of Voronin
's visit to the Kremlin.
Yet Moscow was already backtracking on its own bluff at that point.
President Vladimir Putin, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and the Russian
bicameral parliament all blinked deeply during February 14-18 (see EDM,
February 19). And on February 20 the Duma's international affairs committee
chairman Konstantin Kosachev inadvertently demonstrated the insolvency of
Russia's threats all along to `recognize' Abkhazia and South Ossetia or
other post-Soviet secessionists: Such a move, Kosachev finally admitted,
`would have brought far more losses than gains, triggering a very serious
crisis in the CIS, and exacerbating Russia's relations with NATO, the
European Union, and the United States' (Interfax, February 20).
This must have been Moscow's cost-benefit calculation all along. But
it bluffed until almost the last moment and it managed to confuse a few
governments with its bluff.
--Vladimir Socor
February 22, 2008 -- Volume 5, Issue 34
THERE IS A KOSOVA PRECEDENT, THOUGH NOT WHAT MOSCOW SAYS IT IS
by Vladimir Socor
Russia has failed to exploit Kosova's independence from Serbia as a
`precedent' for conflict-resolution through partition in Georgia, Moldova,
or Azerbaijan (see EDM, February 19). Nor could Moscow stop Kosova's move to
Western-supervised independence and its international recognition. Moscow
had insisted that Kosova's internationally recognized independence would
entitle Russia to recognize and officially protect post-Soviet secessionist
territories outside Russia. That thesis met ultimately with universal
rejection.
Even so, the success of Western policy in this regard is a limited
one, just like that policy itself. It accepted all along Moscow's
restrictive framework of discussion on what would or would not constitute a
`Kosova precedent' and its applicability. That discussion focused on the
legal issue of international recognition. Russia claimed, and the Western
side denied, that a precedent was being set in Kosova for Russia to use in
post-Soviet territories.
This Western response stops short of recognizing that the outcome in
Kosova has actually established a precedent and potential model for
resolution of post-Soviet conflicts. Its nature differs fundamentally both
from the Moscow-imagined `legal' precedent and from the actual model
practiced by Moscow and its clients on the ground. In Kosova, engagement by
the institutional West became the defining factor. This has succeeded in
reversing the mass ethnic cleansing, halting Greater-Nation-type military
expansionism (Greater Serbia in this particular case), and offering a
European perspective to all interested sides as a corollary to resolution of
the conflict.
That is the usable political precedent and model developed in Kosova.
Its norms and objectives await implementation, albeit with a somewhat
different mix of instruments, in settling the unresolved conflicts on the
territories of Georgia, Azerbaijan, and Moldova.
Russia kept silent about these implications and took a purely
formal-legalistic approach to the issue of precedent. Moscow claimed that
Western recognition of Kosova's secession, without UN approval and lacking
Serbia's consent, would constitute that `precedent.' Russia warned that it
could use such a `precedent' unilaterally and recognize post-Soviet
secessions, in its own interest and those of its protégés there.
The United States, European Union, and other Western actors responded
by insisting that Kosova is a sui-generis case, a unique combination of
factors requiring this particular solution, and unusable as a `precedent' by
Russia in the post-Soviet conflicts. Such a response is defensive and
tactical in nature, narrowly designed to refute Moscow's legally couched
doctrine of a `Kosova precedent,' but not looking any farther than that.
Political parallels were often drawn between the post-Yugoslav and
post-Soviet conflicts by every interested party at one time or another
throughout the duration of these conflicts. Russia's thesis connecting
recognition of Kosova legalistically with recognition of the post-Soviet
enclaves was novel only in its self-serving narrowness, but was by no means
a novel procedure as such. Precedents -- whether real or perceived --
figured prominently all along in the policy debates.
Thus, in 1990-91, the U.S. administration and key European governments
supported Yugoslavia's `territorial integrity' and its preservation, so as
to avoid a `precedent' that could have worked against the Soviet Union. That
logic failed to halt the disintegration of either the Soviet Union or
Yugoslavia. Ultimately it made it easier for hardliners in Belgrade and
Moscow to orchestrate armed conflicts in the early 1990s. By mid-decade,
however, the United States and European Union at last lived up to their
responsibilities in pacifying Bosnia-Herzegovina and reversing most of the
ethnic cleansing there.
Georgia regarded that Western intervention as a valuable and usable
precedent. For years thereafter, Tbilisi often cited the case of Bosnia in
calling for international peacekeeping in Abkhazia and return of Georgian
expellees to their homes there. From 1999 to date, Western success in
reversing the ethnic cleansing of Kosovars and keeping Serbia's military out
has laid the basis for a conflict-resolution model.
Ultimately, Moscow sought to invert the international recognition of
Kosova into a `precedent' for recognition of Russia's clients in the
post-Soviet conflicts. Russia poses as defender of territorial integrity
under international law with regard to Serbia while at the same time
supporting the seizure of territories from Georgia and Azerbaijan and
occupying itself territory in Moldova, all this against international law.
This glaring contradiction notwithstanding, Russia managed to narrow
down the debate to the issue of recognition of secessions or
precedent-setting for such processes. With this it also managed to confuse
or intimidate a few governments. Among these Spain, Romania, and Moldova
stand out for reacting in almost panicked tones to the recognition of Kosova
by most Western countries.
Spain, which has just rotated out of the OSCE's Chairmanship, issued
an anguished declaration of its Minister of Foreign Affairs Miguel Angel
Moratinos, protesting against the `violation of international law' by the
countries ready to recognize Kosova (El Pais, February 18). These countries
include the great majority of Spain's allies in the EU and NATO. They had
already called Moscow's bluff about Kosova setting a precedent for ethnic
separatisms everywhere. But Madrid apparently fell for Moscow's bluff with
regard to Spain's Basque country and Catalonia. On the other hand, as OSCE
Chairman-in-Office during 2007 Moratinos had made no attempt to correct
Russia's breaches of international law in the post-Soviet conflicts, where
he displayed a Russia-First approach.
The Romanian president, government, and parliament each issued
statements decrying the `violation of Serbia's territorial integrity,'
terming Kosova's independence `illegal,' and even pledging to not recognize
Kosova. As against independence, Romania calls for Kosova's autonomy within
Serbia (Rompres, February 18-20). Apart from remnants of traditional
pro-Serbian sympathy, Bucharest's position stems from concerns about
`precedent-setting' for secession by Romania's Hungarian ethnic minority or
`collective rights' for it (concerns harbored also by a more nationalist
government in Slovakia). Bucharest's logic seems self-contradictory.
Kosovar autonomy could theoretically become a usable `precedent' for
elements in the Hungarian minority to call for autonomy or collective
rights. Thus, Romanian-favored autonomy for Kosova could hypothetically
stimulate the consequences that Bucharest seeks to avoid. By contrast,
Kosova's independence is clearly not a usable precedent with regard to
Romania's Hungarian minority, because its compact bulk resides in the center
of the country and has no conceivable way to avail itself of a secession
precedent, even on the irrational assumption that it wished to do so.
Romania and Moldova agree on almost nothing at the official level, but
they turned out to share their opposition to Kosova's independence, out of
unsubstantiated fear of a `precedent.' In line with Russia's position,
Moldovan President Vladimir Voronin and the government each issued a
statement expressing `profound concern' about Kosova's Western recognition
and calling for continuing negotiations (Moldpres, February 18, 19, 20).
Moldova had maintained a cautious silence on the Kosova issue up to this
point. Breaking its studied silence in this manner signified a loss of
composure as well as a personal bow to Moscow's stance on the eve of Voronin
's visit to the Kremlin.
Yet Moscow was already backtracking on its own bluff at that point.
President Vladimir Putin, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and the Russian
bicameral parliament all blinked deeply during February 14-18 (see EDM,
February 19). And on February 20 the Duma's international affairs committee
chairman Konstantin Kosachev inadvertently demonstrated the insolvency of
Russia's threats all along to `recognize' Abkhazia and South Ossetia or
other post-Soviet secessionists: Such a move, Kosachev finally admitted,
`would have brought far more losses than gains, triggering a very serious
crisis in the CIS, and exacerbating Russia's relations with NATO, the
European Union, and the United States' (Interfax, February 20).
This must have been Moscow's cost-benefit calculation all along. But
it bluffed until almost the last moment and it managed to confuse a few
governments with its bluff.
--Vladimir Socor