Concerned over Kosovar refugees, the West is demanding that Serbs show restraint--or else

By MASSIMO CALABRESI /BELGRADE

n the Serbian province of Kosovo, it does not take long for human misery to become the plaything of politicians. As the dust settled last week from two weeks of sustained Serb attacks against border villages, debate raged over how many civilians the fighting had driven from their homes. Leaders of the ethnic Albanians, known as Kosovars, claimed it was more than 100,000; the Serbs countered it was none. The Serbian Commissioner for Refugees, Buba Morina, claimed the Kosovars had staged harrowing TV pictures of fleeing women and children. Finally, the U.N. High Commissioner for Refugees weighed in with an official count--recent fighting had displaced as many as 60,000, nearly 13,000 of whom had crossed into neighboring Albania. The U.N. also estimated at least 130 deaths.

The numbers matter. Since fighting erupted in earnest last March, the West has watched for signs that the Serb strongman, Slobodan Milosevic, might launch a campaign of ethnic cleansing like the one he sponsored in Bosnia. Even more than the slaughter of civilians, the West fears a rush of refugees from Kosovo into unstable neighboring countries, setting off a new, wider war in the Balkans. So when the number of bedraggled Kosovars spilling out of the province became clear last week, alarm bells sounded.

On Friday foreign ministers from Britain, Canada, France, Germany, Italy, Russia and the United States--the "contact group"--met in London and demanded that Belgrade stop all military action against the civilian population in Kosovo immediately, allow international monitoring of the area and facilitate the return of refugees. The contact group ministers insisted that Milosevic must show progress in fulfilling these demands when he meets with Russian President Boris Yeltsin in Moscow early this week. "If President Milosevic does not agree with the plan we have mapped out," said British Foreign Secretary Robin Cook, "he must not be in any doubt about the consequences." Both Cook and U.S. Secretary of State Madeleine Albright, made clear that the group will push ahead with plans for taking military action against Serb forces.

The flurry of activity was a hopeful sign the U.S. and Europe learned the lesson of Bosnia--that Milosevic responds only to a credible threat of force. Credibility will be enhanced with NATO exercises this week in neighboring Albania and Macedonia "with the aim of demonstrating NATO's capability to project power rapidly into the region," according to an alliance statement. Said British Defense Minister George Robertson after high-level talks in Brussels: "The message to Belgrade is think again. Change your mind. Change your tactics. At the end of the day, if [Milosevic] doesn't get the message, NATO military means can and may well be used against him."

For a brief moment last month, it looked as if diplomacy alone might do the trick. In a series of separate meetings with Milosevic and Kosovar leader Ibrahim Rugova, U.S. envoy Richard Holbrooke got the two men to agree to talks. The sides remained far apart, but the Western hope was that the Kosovars, who make up 90% of the province's population, would give up their demand for independence in exchange for status as a constituent republic within Yugoslavia. But the border assaults by the Serbs beginning two weeks ago killed that hope. The Serb objective appeared to be creation of a buffer zone along the border with Albania to restrict the supply lines of the Kosovar rebels, known as the Kosovo Liberation Army, or K.L.A. The more immediate effect was to radicalize ethnic Albanians even further. "Milosevic has really screwed up here," says one Western diplomat in Belgrade. "Now even moderate ethnic Albanians who were willing to talk about republic status a few weeks ago are saying they'll settle for nothing less than full independence."

Forcing the sides back to the table will be that much harder now, and will require significant concessions by the Serbs. But it remains unclear whether the West can even rein in Milosevic's rampage, let alone squeeze him for a compromise. After weeks of hesitation and cabinet-level division following the failure of the Holbrooke initiative, the Clinton administration appears to be regaining a coordinated strategy, ratchetting diplomatic and economic pressure on Milosevic while trying to rattle Serb forces in the region with NATO's show of force. Morale in the Yugoslav army is very low and the Interior Ministry has had to establish its own medical panel to assess the constant "illnesses" claimed by officers destined for Kosovo duty.

Russia's stance on Milosevic's recent actions is another critical variable. Previously Moscow refused to dress down their traditional Orthodox Christian allies in Belgrade, but the Russians endorsed the strong condemnation of Milosevic issued by the Contact Group on Wednesday in Paris and also signed on for the Group's demands issued on Friday. Russia opposes NATO intervention, but could make its influence felt at the midweek Moscow meeting between Presidents Yeltsin and Milosevic. "The Russians are as concerned about what is going on [in Kosovo] as we are," said Albright in London. But others fear Milosevic is plotting the same strategy he used so effectively in Bosnia: playing Russia off against the West while getting away with murder. Western intervention in the Kosovo crisis could have unsettling repercussions for Russia, with its patchwork of often disgruntled ethnic groups. And unlike Bosnia, Kosovo is internationally recognized as a constituent part of Yugoslavia--NATO action there could set an uneasy precedent.

Still, even a Russian veto in the U.N. Security Council would not necessarily stop military intervention in Kosovo. Says a top NATO official: "If we can't get [a U.N. Security Council resolution], we'll have to find another legal basis to act if we have to act." But military strikes to rein in Milosevic would not be enough to solve the problem. The K.L.A.'s rise over the last six months from small groups of hit-and-run bandits to a force that now controls as much as 30% of the province poses its own threat to regional security. Already it has claimed responsibility for attacks on police in neighboring Macedonia, where 25% of the population is ethnic Albanian. The longer the conflict continues in neighboring Kosovo, the stronger the influence of the K.L.A. in Macedonia is likely to become. And with no known political representatives, getting the K.L.A. to agree to any future ceasefire could be tricky.

For the moment, the West is close to the crunch. "President Milosevic is now on his last warning," said British Foreign Secretary Robin Cook last week. NATO jets will carry that warning within earshot of Serb forces in Kosovo this week. But Milosevic has an uncanny ear for hollow threats, and with his record in the region, the West may have to prove its willingness to strike before the Serb strongman backs down.

--With Reporting by Dean Fischer /Washington and James L. Graff /Brussels