[ALBSA-Info] Daily Telegraph 4

[aalibali at law.harvard.edu]

                     THE DAILY TELEGRAPH(LONDON)

                          February 09, 2000, Wednesday

SECTION: Pg. 15

LENGTH: 928 words

HEADLINE: The Balkans - legacy of war: Little sister squares up to big bully
Milosevic The assassination in Belgrade has increased tension between Serbia and
Montenegro

BYLINE: By Caroline Davies

 BODY:
ON barked command the officers draw their pistols. "These are the elite," boasts
Milan Perovic their commander, as his men swarm round a wall to confront a
personnel carrier throwing flares to disorientate those inside. "They are the
best in Montenegro, the best in the Balkans."

   We are in the grounds of the Motel Zlatica, a former hotel now converted into
barracks on the outskirts of Montenegro's capital, Podgorica. Protected by black
bullet-proof vests and state-of-the-art weaponry, these men make up the hard
core of the Spezijalni, Montenegro's special police force.

   This is just a training exercise, but elsewhere in Montenegro, Serbia's small
sister in the Yugoslav Federation, members of the special police are positioned 
and ready for war.

   Travelling along the snow-covered, mountainous roads that criss-cross this
tiny republic of 650,000 people, first impressions are not of war but of calm.
Serbian army roadblocks and border control posts, imposed during the Kosovo
conflict in defiance of Montenegro's wishes, have been dismantled. "They will
never, I repeat, never appear on our roads again," growls Vuk Boskovic,
Montenegro's deputy minister for police.

   The Yugoslav 2nd Army, under Belgrade's command and said still to number
around 7,000 in Montenegro, has retreated to barracks. The country's
anti-Milosevic coalition government daily inches away from Belgrade. The
German mark is now as legal as the dinar.

   The police have regained control of the customs posts. Yugoslav visa
restrictions are totally ignored and visitors are free to travel.

   Montenegrin Airlines, grounded when the Yugoslav army took over the airport
during Nato's bombardment, has resumed daily flights. The runway, pounded
mercilessly by Nato, is resurfaced and airlines hope to transport tourists to
the beaches and ski resorts of this breathtakingly scenic country.

   But the initial sense of calm belies the unease that continues to exist in a 
state that serves as Serbia's only outlet to the sea. Having steered a neutral
path through the war, and buoyed by recognition and aid from the West, President
Milo Djukanovic has issued an ultimatum to Belgrade: greater automony for his
country, an equal partnership, or he will call a referendum on independence.

   Independence from Serbia is something Milosevic cannot be seen to tolerate.
The port of Bar provides Serbia's sole route to the sea. It also allows
Milosevic to maintain the idea of a Yugoslavia. Without Montenegro there would
be only Serbia.

   There is also a strong and emotive blood tie. Since the bloody break-up of
the Balkans began in the early Nineties, Montenegro has been Serbia's staunch
ally. It was the Montenegrins who assaulted the medieval walled city of
Dubrovnik in 1991.

   Indeed Yugoslavia's Federal Prime Minister, Momir Bulatovic, one of
Milosevic's loyal followers, was President of Montenegro before being succeeded 
by Mr Djukanovic. Today Mr Bulatovic is under investigation in his home country,
accused of attempting a coup against his homeland after attending a rally in
Niksic in December when he insulted the Montenegrin police and attacked the
authorities in Podgorica.

   Now, with the murder in Belgrade of Pavle Bulatovic, the Yugoslav Defence
Minister, tension seems ready to rise. Pavle Bulatovic, who is not related to
the federal Prime Minister, was a senior member of Montenegro's Socialist
People's Party, which is in direct opposition to the reformist government. Many 
Montenegrins abhor his party.

   It has been five months since Mr Djukanovic issued his ultimatum and
Belgrade's only response has been to rule Montenegro's use of the German mark
illegal. It has also banned transactions to Serbian accounts in an attempt to
exert pressure.

   Despite this, Mr Djukanovic has not carried out his threat. The West is
unenthusiastic and has not promised support. A referendum could mean war, in
effect a civil war, as half of Montenegro is still loyal to Serbia, while the
other half strains towards the freedom.

   Hence the Spezijalni. They are everywhere, particularly near the border with 
Serbia. This special police force, now believed to number at least 15,000, will 
if necessary form the basis of a Montenegrin army.

   They keep a wary eye on the Yugoslav 2nd Army. Loyal to Mr Djukanovic and
paid handsomely in marks (not dinars, the official rate having slid in six
months from six to the mark to 20) the police ranks are said to be swollen daily
by defecting army officers.

   However, if relations with Serbia deteriorate further, the Federation's army 
numbers would probably increase to 25,000, including a large number of rough and
ready reservists. Already there are said to be about 700 special pro-Serbian
military police installed in the north of Montenegro. Local intelligence
suggests the government is willing to tolerate their presence as long as their
number does not exceed 2,000.

   In Podgorica the cafes and bars are overflowing with young men, who sit
smoking over coffees and beers. There is little else to occupy them and the talk
is mostly of politics. Dark rumours circulate, impossible to test, of 2,000
disengaged paramilitary fighters who have supposedly converged on Montenegro,
rumours hotly denied by the government.

   Others speak of plans to erect refugee camps in Bosnia-Hercegovina to house
Montenegrins when the  Albanians  take over their country.

   There is no evidence at any of this, except in the imaginations of those who 
are now no longer surprised at what Milosevic might do. Indeed, they seem to
spend their days waiting for it.