Amazon.com
Between 1991 and 1995 over a quarter million people died during the conflict in the Balkan states. Meanwhile, the rest of Europe did not understand--or chose not to understand--what this war was about. The U.N. sent peacekeeping forces to aid the helpless, but would not assert its will to bring a peaceful end to the atrocities.
In a bold, contentious move by Clinton's first administration, a peace delegation was sent to Bosnia to secure an accord at any cost. A vocal proponent of this was Richard Holbrooke, then assistant secretary of state, who believed in hawkish diplomacy and a willingness to impose the moral will of America, if necessary. Holbrooke's belligerent pursuit of peace can be attributed in part to the tragedy of losing three of his team on the way through Sarajevo, making his quest for peace purposeful and passionate. In To End a War, an honest assessment and account of the events that followed, Holbrooke walks us through the complexities of the Dayton Accord from the perspective of the politicians and military men involved. It provides a fascinating insight into modern political diplomacy and the role of America in the international arena.
Without being a crusader, Holbrooke stresses throughout the need for responsible public service, subtly attacking some modern-day diplomats who use their positions irresponsibly. Ultimately he concludes that this peace process demonstrates the need for countries of power, such as the U.S., to take their of leadership roles seriously. To End a War is the definitive account of the peace process in the former Yugoslavia, important to anyone who wishes to understand the conflict in its entirety. --Jeremy Storey -- Dieser Text bezieht sich auf eine vergriffene oder nicht verfügbare Ausgabe dieses Titels.
From Kirkus Reviews
A riveting and forthright insider account of the Dayton accords and their aftermath, by their primary architect. For Holbrooke, a proponent of the use of force to end the Bosnian crisis, the assignment as assistant secretary of state during Clintons first administration (199496) offered an opportunity to implement changes he had long advocated. The core of Holbrooke's report, and by far the most vibrant and disarming, is his candid account of the Dayton accords that ended the war. ``The negotiations,'' he writes, ``were simultaneously cerebral and physical, abstract and personal . . . something like a combination of chess and mountain climbing.'' To End a War captures this mood precisely; Holbrooke offers gripping tales of marathon 24-hour sessions, scenes of the Balkan leaders screaming at one another and at the Americans, and offers unforgettable portraits of Milosevic, Izetbegovic, and Tudjman. The place seethes with frustration. When Anthony Lake comments that this is ``the craziest zoo I've ever seen,'' Holbrooke feels satisfied that he has ``understood the special weirdness of Dayton.'' The consummate diplomat and team member, Holbrooke tells not only of his own fiercely dedicated work but graciously praises and documents the efforts of negotiators, diplomats, politicians, and humanitarian workers who continue to take part in making and implementing policy. While not exactly literary, Holbrooke's memoir is both highly literate and informed, as well as notably readable. Quotations appear from W.H. Auden, Kierkegaard, and Melville, among others. Its also steeped in the tradition of diplomatic memoirs by eminent diplomat/authors such as Henry Kissinger and Harold Nicolson. While limiting his discussion to the Balkans and the Dayton accords, Holbrooke always has an eye to the broader picture, drawing frequent historical comparisons. A diplomatic memoir of uncommon honesty and insight and a sobering tale for those who dismiss the Dayton accords as an unjust peace. (8 pages b&w photos, not seen) (Author tour) -- Copyright ©1998, Kirkus Associates, LP. All rights reserved.
-- Dieser Text bezieht sich auf eine vergriffene oder nicht verfügbare Ausgabe dieses Titels.
From Library Journal
The chief U.S. negotiator of the Dayton accords gives the inside story.
Copyright 1997 Reed Business Information, Inc. -- Dieser Text bezieht sich auf eine vergriffene oder nicht verfügbare Ausgabe dieses Titels.
Copyright 1997 Reed Business Information, Inc. -- Dieser Text bezieht sich auf eine vergriffene oder nicht verfügbare Ausgabe dieses Titels.
Pressestimmen
In Selecting To End a War as one of the 11 Best Books of the Year, The New York Times wrote:
"Diplomacy is the grungiest job... But it must be satisfying because this enthralling book is also a heartfelt call to America to use its power when societies break down and to become a steady global force resisting human rights abuses everywhere. It is filled with anecdotes and sharp pictures of the wily Balkan leaders Holbrooke had to deal with, as well as with shrewd and seldom flattering analyses of the personalities and motivations of timid American and NATO military commanders... His recreation of battles over principle and tactics with Western generals and State Department and White House officials are dramatic and his description of a rudderless Administration during the early days of his efforts is astonishingly candid, and convincing. His combativeness may offend the pinstripe set, but it is wonderfully refreshing on the page. It is a very rare book on diplomacy that makes you feel you were in the midst of it, and excited to be there."
--The New York Times Book Review
MORE PRAISE FOR To End A War:
"One of the most important and readable diplomatic memoirs of recent times... His account should restore some respect to the much maligned art of diplomacy."
--The Washington Post
"A compelling account of a life-and-death negotiation -- the personal dynamics, the theatrical gestures, the unexpected snags, the leaks... A classic exercise in lock-up, great power diplomacy. To End a War is a riveting book."
--Time
"Holbrooke is brilliant, forceful, determined, focused... In his intuitive feel for the realities of power diplomacy and his strategic vision, he is the heir to Henry Kissinger in American diplomacy."
--The New York Post
"Of all the many excellent books that have been written on Bosnia, To End A War may turn out to be the most important. Holbrooke has written a superb book, one that is clear and honest... Bosnia needed a Holbrooke; perhaps more importantly, so did Washington, if it was to redeem its besmirched honor."
--Michael Elliott, Newsweek
"Easily the best book of recent years on how to carry off a diplomatic negotiation... We can only hope that the White House, Congress and the public are listening, and that generations of Americans will read Holbrooke's book."
--The Philadelphia Inquirer
"A natural writer, Holbrooke uses poetic license to dramatize events into an absorbing read. We have him bluffing, shouting at, or cursing Balkan politicians, negotiating deals of great consequence on the fly, stitching things together as he goes along."
--The Boston Globe
"A roller-coaster ride, from the driver's seat... The going is rambunctious and fascinating."
--Foreign Affairs
"A bravura performance, fascinating, informative and powerfully argued."
--The New Republic
"Richard Holbrooke is the Quentin Tarantino of diplomacy... peppered with amusing anecdotes and shrewd insights."
--The Economist
"To End a War should be read by anyone who still believes that the relationship between the United States military and its political overseers is healthy."
--Thomas E. Ricks, The Washington Monthly
"The first detailed insider account of foreign policy battles in the Clinton Presidency. An unsettling, prophetic book."
--Jim Hoagland, The Washington Post
"Riveting and forthright... Holbrooke's memoir is both highly literate and informed, as well as notably readable. It is steeped in the tradition of diplomatic memoirs by eminent diplomatauthors such as Henry Kissinger and Harold Nicolson."
--Kirkus Review (starred)
"A penetrating portrait of modern diplomacy... essential for understanding how American power can be brought to bear on the course of history."
--Publishers Weekly
"Holbrooke on Bosnia is legendary."
--The Christian Science Monitor
"Absorbing... What mattered [to Holbrooke] was the exercize of American leadership in setting the post-cold war global pace, in keeping the peace in Europe, and in strengthening a Western alliance badly strained by what was otherwise regarded as a second-tier regional problem... Holbrooke has been hailed for prodigies of imperial shrewdness, manipulation, and overall orchestration. Yet his willingness to second guess some of his own tactics along the way adds to the credibility of his account."
--Stephen S. Rosenfeld, World Policy Journal
"The Dayton Agreement provided much-needed relief from the horrible war that preceded it, and it is largely to the credit of Richard Holbrooke that there is any agreement at all. He has now given us, in To End A War his memoir of this crucially important negotiation, the crowning achievement (so far) or an impressive diplomatic career. The book makes compelling reading."
--Paul Wolfowitz, The National Interest
"To End a War is a good book, well-written and very readable... It is invaluable to have such a substantial contribution to the public record, written by a principal player so soon after the event."
--Pauline Neville-Jones, Prospect
"To End a War goes a long way toward revealing a much more human and thoughtful figure behind the brash, pushy image. Though Holbrooke was presented in the media as a sort of diplomatic Lone Ranger, one of the constant themes of this book is the teamwork on which he always depended. The point is made in a dramatic and tragic way in his opening chapter, in which he describes how three of his closest colleagues lost their lives when their armored vehicle rolled off a mountain track on the outskirts of Sarajevo... This is one of several genuinely moving moments in To End A War."
--Noel Malcolm, Los Angeles Times Book Review
"A graphic and insightful account of one of the most difficult problems the United States has faced since the end of World War II."
--Warren Christopher
"This brilliant and remarkable book is both an absorbing first hand narrative of the Balkan conflict and an invaluable contribution to the history of our time. This is more than a book about Bosnia. There will be more Bosnias in our future, and To End a War offers basic guidance about the uses of American power in a dangerous world."
--Arthur Schlesinger, Jr.
"What Richard Holbrooke has given us in this impressive diplomatic memoir is a vivid and well written account of the heroic efforts put forth by the author himself and the small team he headed to spare the troubled Balkan region further bloodshed and horror, and to bring the endangered peoples of Bosnia hope, security, and normalcy of life."
--George F. Kennan
"Must reading."
--Henry Kissinger
From the Hardcover edition.
"Diplomacy is the grungiest job... But it must be satisfying because this enthralling book is also a heartfelt call to America to use its power when societies break down and to become a steady global force resisting human rights abuses everywhere. It is filled with anecdotes and sharp pictures of the wily Balkan leaders Holbrooke had to deal with, as well as with shrewd and seldom flattering analyses of the personalities and motivations of timid American and NATO military commanders... His recreation of battles over principle and tactics with Western generals and State Department and White House officials are dramatic and his description of a rudderless Administration during the early days of his efforts is astonishingly candid, and convincing. His combativeness may offend the pinstripe set, but it is wonderfully refreshing on the page. It is a very rare book on diplomacy that makes you feel you were in the midst of it, and excited to be there."
--The New York Times Book Review
MORE PRAISE FOR To End A War:
"One of the most important and readable diplomatic memoirs of recent times... His account should restore some respect to the much maligned art of diplomacy."
--The Washington Post
"A compelling account of a life-and-death negotiation -- the personal dynamics, the theatrical gestures, the unexpected snags, the leaks... A classic exercise in lock-up, great power diplomacy. To End a War is a riveting book."
--Time
"Holbrooke is brilliant, forceful, determined, focused... In his intuitive feel for the realities of power diplomacy and his strategic vision, he is the heir to Henry Kissinger in American diplomacy."
--The New York Post
"Of all the many excellent books that have been written on Bosnia, To End A War may turn out to be the most important. Holbrooke has written a superb book, one that is clear and honest... Bosnia needed a Holbrooke; perhaps more importantly, so did Washington, if it was to redeem its besmirched honor."
--Michael Elliott, Newsweek
"Easily the best book of recent years on how to carry off a diplomatic negotiation... We can only hope that the White House, Congress and the public are listening, and that generations of Americans will read Holbrooke's book."
--The Philadelphia Inquirer
"A natural writer, Holbrooke uses poetic license to dramatize events into an absorbing read. We have him bluffing, shouting at, or cursing Balkan politicians, negotiating deals of great consequence on the fly, stitching things together as he goes along."
--The Boston Globe
"A roller-coaster ride, from the driver's seat... The going is rambunctious and fascinating."
--Foreign Affairs
"A bravura performance, fascinating, informative and powerfully argued."
--The New Republic
"Richard Holbrooke is the Quentin Tarantino of diplomacy... peppered with amusing anecdotes and shrewd insights."
--The Economist
"To End a War should be read by anyone who still believes that the relationship between the United States military and its political overseers is healthy."
--Thomas E. Ricks, The Washington Monthly
"The first detailed insider account of foreign policy battles in the Clinton Presidency. An unsettling, prophetic book."
--Jim Hoagland, The Washington Post
"Riveting and forthright... Holbrooke's memoir is both highly literate and informed, as well as notably readable. It is steeped in the tradition of diplomatic memoirs by eminent diplomatauthors such as Henry Kissinger and Harold Nicolson."
--Kirkus Review (starred)
"A penetrating portrait of modern diplomacy... essential for understanding how American power can be brought to bear on the course of history."
--Publishers Weekly
"Holbrooke on Bosnia is legendary."
--The Christian Science Monitor
"Absorbing... What mattered [to Holbrooke] was the exercize of American leadership in setting the post-cold war global pace, in keeping the peace in Europe, and in strengthening a Western alliance badly strained by what was otherwise regarded as a second-tier regional problem... Holbrooke has been hailed for prodigies of imperial shrewdness, manipulation, and overall orchestration. Yet his willingness to second guess some of his own tactics along the way adds to the credibility of his account."
--Stephen S. Rosenfeld, World Policy Journal
"The Dayton Agreement provided much-needed relief from the horrible war that preceded it, and it is largely to the credit of Richard Holbrooke that there is any agreement at all. He has now given us, in To End A War his memoir of this crucially important negotiation, the crowning achievement (so far) or an impressive diplomatic career. The book makes compelling reading."
--Paul Wolfowitz, The National Interest
"To End a War is a good book, well-written and very readable... It is invaluable to have such a substantial contribution to the public record, written by a principal player so soon after the event."
--Pauline Neville-Jones, Prospect
"To End a War goes a long way toward revealing a much more human and thoughtful figure behind the brash, pushy image. Though Holbrooke was presented in the media as a sort of diplomatic Lone Ranger, one of the constant themes of this book is the teamwork on which he always depended. The point is made in a dramatic and tragic way in his opening chapter, in which he describes how three of his closest colleagues lost their lives when their armored vehicle rolled off a mountain track on the outskirts of Sarajevo... This is one of several genuinely moving moments in To End A War."
--Noel Malcolm, Los Angeles Times Book Review
"A graphic and insightful account of one of the most difficult problems the United States has faced since the end of World War II."
--Warren Christopher
"This brilliant and remarkable book is both an absorbing first hand narrative of the Balkan conflict and an invaluable contribution to the history of our time. This is more than a book about Bosnia. There will be more Bosnias in our future, and To End a War offers basic guidance about the uses of American power in a dangerous world."
--Arthur Schlesinger, Jr.
"What Richard Holbrooke has given us in this impressive diplomatic memoir is a vivid and well written account of the heroic efforts put forth by the author himself and the small team he headed to spare the troubled Balkan region further bloodshed and horror, and to bring the endangered peoples of Bosnia hope, security, and normalcy of life."
--George F. Kennan
"Must reading."
--Henry Kissinger
From the Hardcover edition.
Kurzbeschreibung
When President Clinton sent Richard Holbrooke to Bosnia as America's chief negotiator in late 1995, he took a gamble that would eventually redefine his presidency. But there was no saying then, at the height of the war, that Holbrooke's mission would succeed. The odds were strongly against it.
As passionate as he was controversial, Holbrooke believed that the only way to bring peace to the Balkans was through a complex blend of American leadership, aggressive and creative diplomacy, and a willingness to use force, if necessary, in the cause for peace. This was not a universally popular view. Resistance was fierce within the United Nations and the chronically divided Contact Group, and in Washington, where many argued that the United States should not get more deeply involved. This book is Holbrooke's gripping inside account of his mission, of the decisive months when, belatedly and reluctantly but ultimately decisively, the United States reasserted its moral authority and leadership and ended Europe's worst war in over half a century. To End a War reveals many important new details of how America made this historic decision.
What George F. Kennan has called Holbrooke's "heroic efforts" were shaped by the enormous tragedy with which the mission began, when three of his four team members were killed during their first attempt to reach Sarajevo. In Belgrade, Sarajevo, Zagreb, Paris, Athens, and Ankara, and throughout the dramatic roller-coaster ride at Dayton, he tirelessly imposed, cajoled, and threatened in the quest to stop the killing and forge a peace agreement. Holbrooke's portraits of the key actors, from officials in the White House and the Élysée Palace to the leaders in the Balkans, are sharp and unforgiving. His explanation of how the United States was finally forced to intervene breaks important new ground, as does his discussion of the near disaster in the early period of the implementation of the Dayton agreement.
To End a War is a brilliant portrayal of high-wire, high-stakes diplomacy in one of the toughest negotiations of modern times. A classic account of the uses and misuses of American power, its lessons go far beyond the boundaries of the Balkans and provide a powerful argument for continued American leadership in the modern world.
From the Hardcover edition.
As passionate as he was controversial, Holbrooke believed that the only way to bring peace to the Balkans was through a complex blend of American leadership, aggressive and creative diplomacy, and a willingness to use force, if necessary, in the cause for peace. This was not a universally popular view. Resistance was fierce within the United Nations and the chronically divided Contact Group, and in Washington, where many argued that the United States should not get more deeply involved. This book is Holbrooke's gripping inside account of his mission, of the decisive months when, belatedly and reluctantly but ultimately decisively, the United States reasserted its moral authority and leadership and ended Europe's worst war in over half a century. To End a War reveals many important new details of how America made this historic decision.
What George F. Kennan has called Holbrooke's "heroic efforts" were shaped by the enormous tragedy with which the mission began, when three of his four team members were killed during their first attempt to reach Sarajevo. In Belgrade, Sarajevo, Zagreb, Paris, Athens, and Ankara, and throughout the dramatic roller-coaster ride at Dayton, he tirelessly imposed, cajoled, and threatened in the quest to stop the killing and forge a peace agreement. Holbrooke's portraits of the key actors, from officials in the White House and the Élysée Palace to the leaders in the Balkans, are sharp and unforgiving. His explanation of how the United States was finally forced to intervene breaks important new ground, as does his discussion of the near disaster in the early period of the implementation of the Dayton agreement.
To End a War is a brilliant portrayal of high-wire, high-stakes diplomacy in one of the toughest negotiations of modern times. A classic account of the uses and misuses of American power, its lessons go far beyond the boundaries of the Balkans and provide a powerful argument for continued American leadership in the modern world.
From the Hardcover edition.
Synopsis
The first insider account of foreign policy battles in the Clinton Administration. To End a War is a brilliant, compellingly readable portrayal of high-wire, high-stakes diplomacy in one of the toughest negotiations of modern times. This is a classic account of the uses and misuses of American power, whose lessons go far beyond the boundries of the balkans and provide a powerful argument for continued American leadership in the modern world.
Über den Autor
Richard Holbrooke began his diplomatic career in Vietnam in 1962, serving in the Mekong Delta and the American embassy in Saigon. After a tour on President Johnson's White House staff in 1966-67, he wrote one volume of the Pentagon Papers, served as special assistant to Undersecretaries of State Nicholas Katzenbach and Elliot Richardson, and was a member of the American delegation to the Paris peace talks on Vietnam. Holbrooke was Peace Corps director in Morocco from 1970 to 1972 and managing editor of Foreign Policy from 1972 to 1976. He served as Assistant Secretary of State for East Asian and Pacific Affairs (1977-81) and U.S. Ambassador to Germany (1993-94). He was Assistant Secretary of State for European and Canadian Affairs from 1994 to 1996, when he became the chief architect of the Dayton Peace Accords. He is co-author of Clark Clifford's memoir, Counsel to the President, and is currently a vice chairman of Credit Suisse First Boston, based in New York. He is married to the author Kati Marton and has two sons, David and Anthony.
From the Hardcover edition.
From the Hardcover edition.
Leseprobe. Abdruck erfolgt mit freundlicher Genehmigung der Rechteinhaber. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.
The Most Dangerous Road in Europe (August 15-21, 1995)
For all of us there is a twilight zone between history and memory; between the past as a generalized record which is open to relatively dispassionate inspection and the past as a remembered part of, or background to, one's own life. --ERIC HOBSBAWM, The Age of Empire: 1875-1914
THE MOUNT IGMAN ROUTE TO SARAJEVO was often described as the most dangerous road in Europe. Parts of the road, a narrow, winding red-dirt track originally used only by farmers and shepherds, were controlled by Serb machine gunners, who regularly shot at U.N. vehicles trying to reach the Bosnian capital. The roadbed itself had little foundation and no reinforcement along its sides, and in several of its narrower sections it was difficult for two cars to pass other. The wreckage of vehicles that had slid off the road or been hit by Serb gunners littered the steep slopes and ravines. In the summer of 1995, however, with the airport closed by Serb artillery, the two-hour drive over Mount Igman was the only way to reach Sarajevo without going through Bosnian Serb lines.
The chief European negotiator, Carl Bildt of Sweden, had been shot at as he crossed Serb territory only weeks earlier. He urged us not to use the Igman road. But without visiting Bosnia's beleaguered capital we could not carry out our mission. On August 15, we made our first attempt, taking a United Nations helicopter from the Croatian coastal town of Split to a landing zone high on Mount Igman, after which we would drive in armored vehicles to Sarajevo. Our helicopter was unable to find a break in the heavy clouds over the landing site. After circling for several unpleasant hours, we returned, frustrated and tired, to Split.
Hearing that we could not reach Sarajevo, Bosnian Foreign Minister Muhamed Sacirbey, accompanied by the senior American diplomat in Bosnia, John Menzies, drove over Mount Igman to meet us at the Split airport. Known to most Americans via television as the eloquent face of his embattled new nation, Sacirbey was perhaps proudest of the fact that he had been a first-string defensive back at Tulane University. He was tough, strong, and fit. Still, the long and bumpy road trip had tired him, and he was as exhausted as we were. To avoid being overheard, we squeezed into the cabin of our small Air Force jet as it sat on the tarmac, and briefed him on our plans. I stressed that while our mission had the full backing of President Clinton, and represented a last, best hope for peace in the Balkans, there was no guarantee of its success. Our discussion finished as darkness fell over the Balkans, and we flew on to Zagreb, the capital of Croatia, to meet Croatian President Franjo Tudjman. After a day in Zagreb, we arrived in Belgrade on August 17 to meet the key actor in this stage of the drama, President Slobodan Milosevic of Serbia.
Although I knew the other major leaders in the region, this would be my first meeting with the man who, in our view, bore the heaviest responsibility for the war. I approached the meeting with great uncertainty, and was guided by my deputy, Robert Frasure, who had spent many hours negotiating with Milosevic earlier that spring.
Frasure's main bargaining chip with Milosevic had been the economic sanctions that the United Nations had imposed in 1992 against the "Federal Republic of Yugoslavia," the name by which Serbia and Montenegro still called themselves even though the four other republics of the original Yugoslavia--Slovenia, Croatia, Macedonia, and Bosnia-Herzegovina--had declared themselves independent nations. The sanctions had seriously damaged Serbia's economy, and Milosevic wanted them ended. But for more than sixteen months he had refused to offer anything concrete in return for our suspending or lifting them.
Our first meeting with Milosevic, on August 17, lasted almost six hours. He was smart, charming, and evasive. As Warren Zimmermann, our last Ambassador to Yugoslavia, put it: "Milosevic makes a stunning first impression on those who do not have the information to refute his often erroneous assertions. Many is the U.S. senator or congressman who has reeled out of his office exclaiming, ''Why, he's not nearly as bad as I expected!''" But despite his cleverness, Milosevic was playing word games devoid of substance--and he knew it. Without budging, he focused on inconsequential changes in draft documents over which he and Frasure had been arguing since the beginning of the year. His goal remained to get the sanctions lifted at no cost.
Our most important point concerned whom we would negotiate with. The United States, we said, would never again deal directly with the Bosnian Serbs, who still rained artillery and racist rhetoric down upon the Muslims and the Croats from their mountain capital of Pale. "You must speak for Pale," I said. "We won''t deal with them ever again."
Frasure thought the meeting had gone well. Nonetheless, it left me dissatisfied. I decided to see Milosevic again the next morning to make clear that we would not continue the cat-and-mouse game he had played with previous negotiators. To emphasize this, it was necessary to change the ground rules a bit. Our entire team of six people had attended the first meeting, but Milosevic had had only two people with him--his new Foreign Minister, Milan Milutinovic, and his chief of staff, Goran Milinovic. Nine people were simply too many to establish the sort of direct relationship necessary for a frank dialogue.
Early on the morning of August 18, before our second meeting with Milosevic, I met with Frasure and Rudy Perina, the senior American diplomat in Belgrade, in the garden of the ambassadorial residence. As we walked between the imposing old stone house and the tennis court, under magnificent chestnut trees and presumably out of the range of prying microphones, I said that I "planned to throw a controlled fit" to make clear to Milosevic that what he was doing was unacceptable. Because of this plan, I added that the next meeting needed to be smaller.
Apologizing to Rudy, I asked him to drop out of the meeting. Returning to the house, I asked the other two members of our team--Joseph Kruzel, the Senior Deputy Assistant Secretary of Defense; and Lieutenant General Wesley Clark, the Chief of Plans for the Joint Chiefs of Staff--to drop out as well. I would take only Frasure and Nelson Drew, an Air Force colonel who, as the National Security Council staff member on our team, represented the White House. Frasure concurred in this suggestion.
Nothing generates more heat in the government than the question of who is chosen to participate in important meetings. My request ran against a diplomatic custom I greatly respected--that the senior resident American diplomatic representative should normally attend every official meeting with a head of government. But although unhappy, all three men agreed without objection. It could have been a difficult moment; I was deeply gratified by this early sign of our cohesiveness as a team.
Less than an hour later Frasure, Drew, and I were seated in a high-ceilinged meeting room in the Presidential Palace--one of Tito''s old offices--in Belgrade. It was a room we would come to know well in the next seven months. Like other such meeting rooms in communist and former communist countries from Beijing to Bratislava, the room tried to make up for its lack of charm by a drab giganticism. The three of us sat on a long sofa. Milosevic took an armchair a few feet from where I sat at the end of the sofa. Foreign Minister Milutinovic sat on another soft chair facing us directly, and Goran Milinovic, always the loyal staff officer, sat at the edge of the group, taking notes.
As we talked, I thought of the difficulties and dangers we would face each time we tried to reach Sarajevo. It was annoying that we had...
For all of us there is a twilight zone between history and memory; between the past as a generalized record which is open to relatively dispassionate inspection and the past as a remembered part of, or background to, one's own life. --ERIC HOBSBAWM, The Age of Empire: 1875-1914
THE MOUNT IGMAN ROUTE TO SARAJEVO was often described as the most dangerous road in Europe. Parts of the road, a narrow, winding red-dirt track originally used only by farmers and shepherds, were controlled by Serb machine gunners, who regularly shot at U.N. vehicles trying to reach the Bosnian capital. The roadbed itself had little foundation and no reinforcement along its sides, and in several of its narrower sections it was difficult for two cars to pass other. The wreckage of vehicles that had slid off the road or been hit by Serb gunners littered the steep slopes and ravines. In the summer of 1995, however, with the airport closed by Serb artillery, the two-hour drive over Mount Igman was the only way to reach Sarajevo without going through Bosnian Serb lines.
The chief European negotiator, Carl Bildt of Sweden, had been shot at as he crossed Serb territory only weeks earlier. He urged us not to use the Igman road. But without visiting Bosnia's beleaguered capital we could not carry out our mission. On August 15, we made our first attempt, taking a United Nations helicopter from the Croatian coastal town of Split to a landing zone high on Mount Igman, after which we would drive in armored vehicles to Sarajevo. Our helicopter was unable to find a break in the heavy clouds over the landing site. After circling for several unpleasant hours, we returned, frustrated and tired, to Split.
Hearing that we could not reach Sarajevo, Bosnian Foreign Minister Muhamed Sacirbey, accompanied by the senior American diplomat in Bosnia, John Menzies, drove over Mount Igman to meet us at the Split airport. Known to most Americans via television as the eloquent face of his embattled new nation, Sacirbey was perhaps proudest of the fact that he had been a first-string defensive back at Tulane University. He was tough, strong, and fit. Still, the long and bumpy road trip had tired him, and he was as exhausted as we were. To avoid being overheard, we squeezed into the cabin of our small Air Force jet as it sat on the tarmac, and briefed him on our plans. I stressed that while our mission had the full backing of President Clinton, and represented a last, best hope for peace in the Balkans, there was no guarantee of its success. Our discussion finished as darkness fell over the Balkans, and we flew on to Zagreb, the capital of Croatia, to meet Croatian President Franjo Tudjman. After a day in Zagreb, we arrived in Belgrade on August 17 to meet the key actor in this stage of the drama, President Slobodan Milosevic of Serbia.
Although I knew the other major leaders in the region, this would be my first meeting with the man who, in our view, bore the heaviest responsibility for the war. I approached the meeting with great uncertainty, and was guided by my deputy, Robert Frasure, who had spent many hours negotiating with Milosevic earlier that spring.
Frasure's main bargaining chip with Milosevic had been the economic sanctions that the United Nations had imposed in 1992 against the "Federal Republic of Yugoslavia," the name by which Serbia and Montenegro still called themselves even though the four other republics of the original Yugoslavia--Slovenia, Croatia, Macedonia, and Bosnia-Herzegovina--had declared themselves independent nations. The sanctions had seriously damaged Serbia's economy, and Milosevic wanted them ended. But for more than sixteen months he had refused to offer anything concrete in return for our suspending or lifting them.
Our first meeting with Milosevic, on August 17, lasted almost six hours. He was smart, charming, and evasive. As Warren Zimmermann, our last Ambassador to Yugoslavia, put it: "Milosevic makes a stunning first impression on those who do not have the information to refute his often erroneous assertions. Many is the U.S. senator or congressman who has reeled out of his office exclaiming, ''Why, he's not nearly as bad as I expected!''" But despite his cleverness, Milosevic was playing word games devoid of substance--and he knew it. Without budging, he focused on inconsequential changes in draft documents over which he and Frasure had been arguing since the beginning of the year. His goal remained to get the sanctions lifted at no cost.
Our most important point concerned whom we would negotiate with. The United States, we said, would never again deal directly with the Bosnian Serbs, who still rained artillery and racist rhetoric down upon the Muslims and the Croats from their mountain capital of Pale. "You must speak for Pale," I said. "We won''t deal with them ever again."
Frasure thought the meeting had gone well. Nonetheless, it left me dissatisfied. I decided to see Milosevic again the next morning to make clear that we would not continue the cat-and-mouse game he had played with previous negotiators. To emphasize this, it was necessary to change the ground rules a bit. Our entire team of six people had attended the first meeting, but Milosevic had had only two people with him--his new Foreign Minister, Milan Milutinovic, and his chief of staff, Goran Milinovic. Nine people were simply too many to establish the sort of direct relationship necessary for a frank dialogue.
Early on the morning of August 18, before our second meeting with Milosevic, I met with Frasure and Rudy Perina, the senior American diplomat in Belgrade, in the garden of the ambassadorial residence. As we walked between the imposing old stone house and the tennis court, under magnificent chestnut trees and presumably out of the range of prying microphones, I said that I "planned to throw a controlled fit" to make clear to Milosevic that what he was doing was unacceptable. Because of this plan, I added that the next meeting needed to be smaller.
Apologizing to Rudy, I asked him to drop out of the meeting. Returning to the house, I asked the other two members of our team--Joseph Kruzel, the Senior Deputy Assistant Secretary of Defense; and Lieutenant General Wesley Clark, the Chief of Plans for the Joint Chiefs of Staff--to drop out as well. I would take only Frasure and Nelson Drew, an Air Force colonel who, as the National Security Council staff member on our team, represented the White House. Frasure concurred in this suggestion.
Nothing generates more heat in the government than the question of who is chosen to participate in important meetings. My request ran against a diplomatic custom I greatly respected--that the senior resident American diplomatic representative should normally attend every official meeting with a head of government. But although unhappy, all three men agreed without objection. It could have been a difficult moment; I was deeply gratified by this early sign of our cohesiveness as a team.
Less than an hour later Frasure, Drew, and I were seated in a high-ceilinged meeting room in the Presidential Palace--one of Tito''s old offices--in Belgrade. It was a room we would come to know well in the next seven months. Like other such meeting rooms in communist and former communist countries from Beijing to Bratislava, the room tried to make up for its lack of charm by a drab giganticism. The three of us sat on a long sofa. Milosevic took an armchair a few feet from where I sat at the end of the sofa. Foreign Minister Milutinovic sat on another soft chair facing us directly, and Goran Milinovic, always the loyal staff officer, sat at the edge of the group, taking notes.
As we talked, I thought of the difficulties and dangers we would face each time we tried to reach Sarajevo. It was annoying that we had...
