May 6, 1999
The
Clinton Capitulation by Jeff Jacoby SUNDAY
[May 2, 1999]: "We are not only
not going to stop the bombing," says
Defense Secretary William Cohen,
"we are going to intensify the
bombing." Monday: President Clinton
tells reporters that "under the right
circumstances, we would be willing to have
a bombing pause." Sunday: "We have to be part of
the force," insists State Department
spokesman James Rubin, referring to
the peacekeeping brigade that will secure
the Kosovars' right to return. "And it has
to be a NATO force." Monday: The United States,
Clinton says, is "open to a broad security
force. We would welcome the United
Nations' embrace of such a security force
. . . [which could include] the
Russians, perhaps the Ukrainians, perhaps
others who come from the Orthodox
tradition, who have close ties to the
Serbs." Slice by slice, the Clinton
capitulation is underway. No longer does
the President demand unconditional
compliance with NATO's terms, as he did
when this fight began. Instead he says,
"There's plenty to talk about." No longer
does he vow to bomb Serbia until Slobodan
Milosevic surrenders. Instead he is open
to bombing pauses, and to negotiations
with Serbia's hard-line ally, Russia. No
longer does he declare that a "NATO force"
or even a "NATO-led force" police the
peace in Kosovo. Instead he throws the
door open to a UN force so broad as to
comprise even pro-Serb, anti-Albanian
Russians and Ukrainians. Soon it will all be over but the
arranging of the fig leaves. And on every
important principle, NATO and the United
States will have lost. The West went to war to compel
Slobodan Milosevic to sign the
Rambouillet treaty, to restore Kosovo's
autonomy, and to halt the brutal pogroms
Serbian forces were unleashing against
Kosovar civilians. Today Rambouillet is
dead and a million Kosovars have been
torched and terrorized out of their homes.
The most homicidal dictator in Europe
dared the world's mightiest democracy to
stop him, and the mighty democracy
choked. Clinton's means were stunningly
unsuited to his ends. From the start he
ruled out a ground war, which signaled
Milosevic that his ground war could
proceed. The President invoked Hitler's
horrors in making the case against Serbia,
yet never called for the overthrow of the
Serbian regime. He should have labeled
Milosevic a war criminal, should have
notified the world that the fighting would
go on until the dictator was dead or
behind bars. Instead he talked about
"degrading" the Yugoslav military until a
"permissive environment" was achieved, and
scarcely mentioned Milosevic at all. In the course of prosecuting this war
to save Kosovo, NATO managed to send a
laser-guided bomb ripping through a convoy
of Kosovar refugees and vaporized a
bus-possibly two buses-filled with
civilians. These were tragic accidents, of
course. But they were also the sort of
disasters that occur when you try to stop
expulsions and massacres on the ground
with F-16s flying at 15,000 feet. In the Independent, a British daily,
Robert Fisk recently compared the
allies' approach to Kosovo's suffering
innocents to that of a passerby who sees
someone being victimized across the
street. "What NATO has done . . . has been
to stay on the other side of the road, to
make a note of the criminal's address, and
to throw stones through the window of his
home later that night," Fisk wrote. "Not a
single NATO life has been lost in five
weeks of war . . . because we do not
regard the catastrophe of the Kosovo
Albanians as worth a single NATO
life." The failure of the United States to
crush Milosevic will have grave
repercussions. America's standing in NATO has
plummeted. The allies launched the first
non-defensive military action in NATO's
history, despite misgivings, because they
trusted Washington's leadership. That
trust was squandered by a White House that
turned out to have no strategy for victory
and no plan for stopping Serbia's ethnic
"cleansing." Thanks to Clinton, the world will be
less likely to defer to American
leadership from now on. In the last six
years, Washington has shown itself unable
to defeat the warlords of Somalia, unable
to curtail North Korea's nuclear weapons
program, unable to destroy Islamic
terrorist Osama bin Laden,
and-above all-unable to outmaneuver
Saddam Hussein. Now comes the
debacle in Yugoslavia. If there was any
remaining doubt that the Colossus of
Desert Storm had feet of clay, the events
of the last 45 days have blown it
away. The United States was not obliged to go
to war-or whatever the term is for an
enterprise in which the overriding
priority is to keep soldiers' boots from
getting muddy-to arrest the depredations
in Kosovo. But having chosen to do so, it
was obliged to fight to win. The Clinton
Administration's refusal to take that
obligation seriously will cheer barbarians
everywhere. The bombs are still falling on
Yugoslavia, but the choreography of
arranging a cease-fire and cobbling
together a deal is underway. Before long
the bombs will stop. Milosevic and his
junta will not be obliterated. The
Kosovars will not be made whole. As the
Twentieth Century ends, it is still
possible for tyrants-even in Europe-even
at NATO's doorstep-to drive out minorities
at the point of a bayonet. Such is
Clinton's legacy to the world. History
will not be kind. (Jeff
Jacoby is a columnist for the Boston
Globe.) |