Kosovo: War and Revenge
by Tim Judah
Yale University Press, 348 pp., $17.95 (paper)
Winning Ugly: NATO’s War to Save Kosovo
by Ivo H Daalder, by Michael E. O’Hanlon
Brookings, 343 pp., $24.95
Virtual War: Kosovo and Beyond
by Michael Ignatieff
Metropolitan Books, 246 pp., $23.00
House of Commons. Foreign Affairs Committee, London: Stationery Office
Vol. 2, 378 pp., £28.50
The Crisis in Kosovo 1989-1999
by Marc Weller
Cambridge, England: Documents and Analysis Publishing, 504 pp., $49.00 (paper)
Kosovo: Contending Voices on Balkan Interventions
by William J. Buckley
Eerdmans, 528 pp., $30.00
The Kosovo war was the last European war of the twentieth century, and NATO’s first. What we do we know about it a year later? Let’s start with a quick journey down the food chain of recent history.
In the beginning were the events themselves: the meetings at which Western leaders made the decision to bomb Serbia; American pilots sliding nervously into their planes at an Italian airfield to fly the first bombing missions; Kosovar refugees trudging to the border through snow and mud. Unless we were there, we will never know what it was like to be there. And the official records are still secret.
Yet there are amazing things that people who were not there can already know: for example, what it looked like to the bombs. Eerily silent images from video cameras mounted on the noses of NATO’s high-tech guided missiles show the very window or doorframe the missile is about to hit. This is quite new for historians. There were no cameras on the cannonballs at Austerlitz. I suppose it’s only a matter of time before we will see on our television screens, from a yet more advanced camera, on a still more accurate missile, the staring eyes of the victim in the moment before she dies.
Then there are the first reports. With the openness of modern democracies, there seems to be little of significance that does not get into the press, one way or another, and usually sooner rather than later. However, much of the information is deliberately “spun” by policymakers and their spin-doctors, or unintentionally garbled by the journalist, or both spun and garbled. These opinion pieces are generally of minimal use for working out what happened and why. The world-historical reflections of a Nobel Prize winner prove more ephemeral than the hurried news story of a nineteen-year-old reporter.
Among the few exceptions are intellectual commentaries that themselves contain a strong element of personal reportage. Three quarters of Michael Ignatieff’s Virtual War is of this kind, consisting as it does of lightly revised articles written for The New Yorker and other journals before and during the Kosovo war. Ignatieff’s higher journalism is made especially vivid and accessible by concentrating on one person in each piece: Richard Holbrooke (“the ego has landed”) for his diplomacy, Aleksa Djilas as The Serb, General Wesley Clark as “Virtual Commander,” and Louise Arbour of the Hague tribunal for the attempt to do justice. The …