Kosovo's Army in Waiting

On the steep slopes of central Kosovo, a magenta KIA 4x4 slows to a crawl amid the cheers of running children. Behind the wheel, the rebel Albanian commander known as Celiku, or "Steely," acknowledges their play-soldier salutes, greets several wizened old men and continues up the mountain to his hilltop compound. Sitting on the cushioned floor of his house, sipping thick Turkish coffee, Celiku, a commander of the Kosovo Liberation Army's "general headquarters," says there's only one way to end the war in the secessionist southern Serbian province. "Serbia has to be defeated militarily," he says. "Otherwise they will not withdraw."

Eighteen months ago, the idea that the K.L.A. could be the agent for that kind of humiliating defeat would have been greeted with derision in Belgrade. No one's laughing now. In just over a year, the K.L.A. has transformed itself from a disorganized network of bandits into a presentable, if limited, guerrilla army. That army is a fraction of the size of the Yugoslav army, but it has all the classic guerrilla advantages: the loyalty of the population, an intimate knowledge of the terrain and a brutality that won its members the label of "terrorists" a year ago. Already they have killed hundreds of Serb security forces in ambushes and sniper attacks. By last week, as the Yugoslavs massed some 40,000 troops in and around Kosovo's borders, it may have looked like overkill in dealing with a small guerrilla force. But the K.L.A., funded by millions of dollars in aid from sympathetic overseas Albanians--and perhaps millions more in smuggling revenues--has become a legitimate power in the Balkans.

Much of that success comes from a diffuse, hydra-headed power structure that has rebounded from repeated attempts to put it down. The general headquarters, based in central Kosovo, consists of a dozen or so men who control the political, civil and military operations of the 3,000 to 10,000 rebels. In the field, however, commanders operate with independence. There is safety in that broad, nontraditional power base: it means there is no one head for the Serbs to cut off. It has produced a wide range of K.L.A. leaders, from bloodthirsty terrorists who target civilians to patriots ready to die for their putative country. Some commanders are outright criminals. Interpol cops say parts of the K.L.A. are funded by profits from smuggling along the infamous "Balkan route," the main line for 90% of Western Europe's heroin.

Other commanders are more professional. Commander Remi, 28, who controls a region that includes the capital of Pristina, is a former law student. Operating from a bland house about 30 minutes north of Pristina, he has made a reputation for himself by holding off violent Serb attacks, although not without casualties. But after years of Serbian repression, there is no shortage of young men willing to die for independence. Says Mohamet Latifi, a soldier serving under Remi: "If someone attacked your house, would you run away or would you defend it?"