To End a War

by Richard Holbrooke

  The JCS wanted to locate IFOR headquarters in Zagreb or Naples, rather than Sarajevo. Quarters suitable for a four-star admiral did not exist in Sarajevo, they said, and they worried about the security of their headquarters. We argued that if the senior American were not in Sarajevo the entire operation would be fatally weakened.

  They wanted to deploy IFOR only in the Federation, and not in Republika Srpska. State argued that this would turn the Inter-Entity Boundary Line between the two parts of Bosnia into the equivalent of the DMZ in Korea—and effectively partition the country.

  The Pentagon did not want to place IFOR troops on Bosnia’s international borders, despite a strong request from Izetbegovic. We argued that troops had to be placed on the international border to support our position that Bosnia was a single country.

  The JCS opposed “requiring” that the parties withdraw all heavy weapons from a “heavy weapons exclusion zone.” Instead, it proposed that the peace agreement simply “encourage” the parties to withdraw their heavy weapons “on a voluntary basis.” We found this position incomprehensible from the military’s own point of view. The word “voluntary” did not exist in the Balkan lexicon, and leaving heavy weapons near the IFOR troops would only increase their vulnerability.

  The Pentagon opposed the cantonment of weapons—that is, the stockpiling in isolated areas open to NATO inspection—by the two sides on the grounds that it was unenforceable. We argued that cantonments would protect IFOR and reduce the chances of incidents.

  They opposed giving IFOR the authority to investigate “past incidents of attacks, atrocities or human rights violations.” We said this was essential.

  The Pentagon resisted any obligation to respond to “over the horizon” reports of attacks on international civilian personnel or gross violations of human rights, on the grounds that this would “lead to mission creep and increase force requirements.” In plain English, this meant that the Pentagon did not want to go to the aid of international civilian aid workers if a problem arose outside their immediate line of sight. We argued that it was inconceivable that the military could stand by if civilians, some of whom might be Americans, were endangered.

  The military wanted little or no role in any aspect of civilian implementation, including elections and securing freedom of movement; we argued that its visible presence would be essential for the first series of elections after the war.

  The Pentagon not only rejected any police functions for themselves, but also opposed giving the International Police Task Force (IPTF) a strong mandate and authority to arrest people. This, they said, would constitute the most dangerous form of “mission creep.” If the IPTF got into trouble, the military argued, this could “lead to the assumption by IFOR of police functions throughout the country.” I argued that this would weaken the chain of enforcement. Either the military should have arrest authority or else the IPTF should be given such powers.

  The Pentagon wanted to exclude eastern Slavonia from the IFOR area of responsibility on the grounds that it would require more troops and raise more problems with Congress. We argued that eastern Slavonia, small, adjacent to Bosnia, and directly on the route that U.S. troops would travel to resupply their forces in Bosnia, was an integral part of the region, and would be easy to place under IFOR.

  Finally, the Pentagon opposed any mandate or obligation to arrest indicted war criminals. Needless to say, I disagreed.

  Over the last few days before Dayton we contested every one of these issues, winning some, losing many others. The implementation of Dayton, as it turned out, was determined in these meetings, with decidedly mixed results.

  I appealed privately to Perry and Shalikashvili for a more robust IFOR mission. After personal review, Perry and Shalikashvili reversed two of the Pentagon’s positions. The first was the location of IFOR headquarters; they realized that it had to be in Sarajevo rather than in Zagreb—a bizarre suggestion that had come up through the chain of command.

  They also agreed that IFOR had to deploy some forces in the Serb portion of Bosnia; otherwise we would divide the country instead of unifying it. Perry also agreed to deploy IFOR forces on the international borders, although the number was smaller than we wanted or Izetbegovic had requested.

  The first of the two White House meetings on the State-Pentagon disagreement took place on October 25. The JCS agreed to a required twenty-kilometer heavy-weapons-free zone adjusted to fit the demarcation of territory, and a four-kilometer zone of separation free of all weapons. This was a significant step forward from the original JCS-NATO plan. (I argued unsuccessfully for a ten-kilometer weapons-free zone.)

  Two days later, with the European military representatives already arriving in Washington, we returned to the Situation Room to resolve the rest of our differences. Despite its significance, the debate on October 27 was never personal or tense. In our private meetings, Shalikashvili had promised to look for ways to reduce the gap between State and the JCS. Nonetheless, there were still serious disagreements.

  “The issues before us are the ones that will determine the success or failure of the mission,” I said. “Elections and the right of refugees to return may not be in IFOR’s mandate, but they may be the key. We are deciding here whether or not we will end up with partition or a single country. If we succeed at Dayton, we will then face very tough real-life cases, such as people who want to return to their homes, say Muslims who once lived in Banja Luka—”

  Shalikashvili broke in. “That’s not IFOR’s mission. We can’t get every bus through. We should not sign a document we can’t implement. I hope police will do their utmost to provide security for returning refugees. If there is an incident and the police are overwhelmed, then the IFOR commander has the authority to assist. But there could be days when he can’t do this because his resources are stretched too thin.”

  Finally, Shalikashvili offered a compromise. “Supposing we accept the ‘authority’ to do additional tasks,” he said, “but not the ‘obligation.’ ” There was some confusion until Shali explained the distinction, which had a clear meaning to the military: if IFOR completed its required missions, it would have the authority, but not the obligation, to undertake the additional tasks. “For example, we do not wish to be obligated to arrest war criminals,” he explained, “but we will accept the authority to arrest them if we get the chance.” This was a big step forward from the military’s opening position, which had opposed any widening of IFOR’s role. But the meaning of this finely crafted compromise would not be determined until the commanders on the ground decided how to use their “authority.”

  This compromise was swiftly accepted by Christopher, Perry, and Lake. I did not object. It gave us a unified American position, which was essential for the weekend meetings with our European allies and the NATO Council, and in Dayton.

  But had I known then how reluctant IFOR would be to use its “authority,” I would have fought harder for a stronger mission statement, although I would probably have lost. But, like all the civilians in the meetings, I believed that IFOR would do more than it did, especially in the critical first year.

  The “Silver Bullet.” I still did not feel that IFOR’s mandate was sufficient. Clark agreed, and he and his staff added a “silver bullet” clause to the military annex. Although phrased in bureaucratese, it gave the IFOR commanders freedom to use force whenever they felt it was necessary, without recourse to civilian authorities. In its final form, it read:

  The Parties understand and agree that the IFOR Commander shall have the authority, without interference or permission of any Party, to do all the Commander judges necessary and proper…. The violating Party shall be subject to military action by the IFOR, including the use of necessary force to ensure compliance with the Annex.

  On the day between the two White House meetings, October 26, Christopher took the Dayton team and a number of senior officials, including Madeleine Albright, to a government train
ing center in the Virginia hills near Warrenton for a strategy session. By now our team had expanded substantially. Warrenton was a dress rehearsal for Dayton, and we walked through every detail of the talks, presenting to Christopher and his team a ninety-two-page draft peace agreement and volumes of backup material. We agreed on a basic concept: Christopher would open the talks, then return to Washington, where he would remain available for visits whenever his presence might make a difference. After five hours of discussion, Christopher pronounced himself “satisfied and impressed” and we drove back to Washington.

  The Consultations Intensify. The Europeans waited impatiently. The civilian implementation structure would be headed by Carl Bildt, and the military force would be at least two-thirds European—yet we had spent almost no time talking to the Europeans while our internal debate proceeded. When the consultations with the Europeans finally began, time was short, and the agenda massive. A visitor to the sixth floor of the State Department that weekend would have seen an unusual sight—dozens of people from at least seven countries wandering up and down a long corridor arguing in small groups over hundreds of pages of draft agreements and backup papers. Kornblum and I moved from room to room, encouraging and guiding the process.

  I wish that cynics about government service had observed these meetings. It was one of those lovely Washington fall weekends that make the capital seem invigorating, but inside, oblivious to the weather, dozens of bureaucrats and military officers from many countries sweated through intense, seemingly endless meetings. By late Sunday afternoon, they had resolved many issues, especially those involving the deployment and role of IFOR. But we could not finish work on several key matters, including the authority of the senior civilian in Bosnia, and the role of the International Police Task Force. We agreed to complete our discussions in Dayton.

  As the meetings continued, Owen, O’Brien, Menzies, and Jack Zetkulic of the Balkan desk flew to New York with me to talk to the Bosnians. Despite our pleas, they had done nothing to prepare for Dayton. Six weeks earlier, on September 18, I had raised my concern over this issue with Muhamed Sacirbey over a late-night conversation at the Inter-Continental Hotel in Zagreb. “Mo, I’m concerned that your government isn’t ready for a peace conference,” I had said. “Every time we try to discuss the key issues, you guys disagree with each other. You can’t go into a big conference like that.”

  “We need help,” he had replied. One of Sacirbey’s charming qualities was his ability to admit, when he was alone, the mess in his government. “You’re the Foreign Minister,” I had said. “You are going to have to keep your team focused.” I remembered his reply: “I know, I know. But it won’t be easy.” A few days later, Owen gave Sacirbey a list of fifteen international legal experts, but the Bosnians ignored the list and the idea until the last moment. On the eve of the talks, the Bosnians still had serious internal divisions within their government, few clear positions, and no qualified international legal experts, except one overworked and underconsulted international lawyer, Paul Williams.

  The meeting in New York was intended to help the Bosnians prepare for Dayton. “Think strategically about what you want to achieve in Dayton,” I said. Sacirbey, however, told us his government would not negotiate with the Serbs until we had forced the Croats into a new and better Federation agreement. This threatened our original scenario for Dayton, but Sacirbey had a point.

  Negotiating requires flexibility on tactics but a constant vision of the ultimate goal. Sacirbey’s demand would slow Dayton down and could even sink the conference, but there was no alternative. Putting the Federation first would give the Sarajevo delegation a chance to settle down, while pressuring us to produce a better Federation agreement.

  On Monday, October 30, I flew to Dayton for my first look at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base. Dozens of workmen swarmed over the site in preparation. The Air Force, working closely with Pat Kennedy and Rosemarie Pauli, had repainted and rebuilt parts of the five facing visiting officers’ quarters so that the three Balkan delegations, the United States, and the Europeans each had its own building. The Air Force had knocked walls out and created “presidential suites” for some of the participants. They turned over to us the Hope Conference Center, a two-hundred-room hotel (which we filled completely with administrative and security personnel) with conference rooms. The Air Force had built a high barbed-wire fence around the entire area and had secured the entrances with heavy concrete barricades, which were heavily guarded by military police and security personnel.

  With large areas for private walks, many private rooms, and even tennis courts, the final result was close to our dreams for Site X. The Air Force had even built, in the words of Tom Shoup, the deputy director of the 88th Civil Engineer Group that readied the site, a “very lovely meandering walkway, complete with lighting, so that delegates could walk this peaceful path from their quarters to the meeting rooms.”* When Donilon saw the facilities, he was impressed. “This is as close as it gets to a perfect setup,” he said. “Now all we have to do is get a deal.”

  Our tour was made more poignant by the vice commander of the Air Force Materiel Command who showed us around. He was Lieutenant General Lawrence P. Farrell, Jr., Joe Kruzel’s brother-in-law, whom I had last seen more than two months earlier when he spoke over Joe’s grave at Arlington. He was businesslike throughout, but at the end of my visit he told me that he and his family had a special reason to pray for success at Dayton.

  That same evening, October 30, the House of Representatives delivered a serious public blow to the Administration, voting three to one for a nonbinding resolution that the Administration not deploy troops to Bosnia without prior congressional approval. Gingrich called the vote “a referendum on this Administration’s incapability of convincing anyone to trust them.”

  Mike McCurry answered immediately. “The President will live up to his responsibilities as Commander in Chief and be true to his oath of office,” he said. “If he needs to act to protect America’s interests in the world, he will act.” While Leon Panetta predicted ultimate congressional support for a deployment, telling The Washington Post that “the American people are not going to walk away from a peace settlement,” Senator Patrick Leahy of Vermont, one of our supporters, warned that “the President would lose” if it came to a vote right away. The President told the press that the resolution would have no effect on the talks, but there was no denying that if we succeeded in Dayton, the vote’s damage would have to be undone.

  The Last Briefing. Our last meeting before Dayton was on October 31, with President Clinton and Vice President Gore in the Cabinet Room. Trying to start on a light note, I denied rumors that we had picked Dayton because it was Strobe Talbott’s birthplace. Thin laughter. I gave the President a T-shirt from Wright-Patterson showing a dove superimposed over the map of Ohio, and he predicted it would become a collector’s item. I noted that Ohio’s population included people from every ethnic community of central Europe and the Balkans. “There are more Serbs and Hungarians in Cleveland than any other American city,” I said. “The area is filled with Croats, Albanians, Hungarians, Slovaks, and other groups who understand the tragedy of their original homelands. We hope the fact that they confine their rivalries to the football fields will send a signal to the participants.”

  This interested and pleased the President. He knew the area well, and spoke with feeling about the way people from different backgrounds lived in harmony in Ohio.

  Regarding the talks themselves, I said we were on our own thirty-yard line. “That’s not bad, considering we started on our own goal line,” I said. “Dayton’s a gamble, but the shuttle phase has run its course. Even if we fail, our nation can be proud that we made an all-out effort for peace. But there are practical limits to how long we can keep people cooped up at Wright-Patterson. We’ll hit a wall by day ten or fifteen.”

  The President said that he hoped Dayton would be successful, but if it was he would face the most difficult d
ecision any President has to make: sending thousands of young Americans into a dangerous, possibly lethal situation. “Given Somalia, we must have a clearly defined goal so that there’s no mission creep,” he said.

  “I have especially strong feelings about Sarajevo,” he went on. “It would be a mistake to divide the city. We don’t want another Berlin. If you can’t unify it, internationalize it.” Turning to me, he said we should not be “constrained by artificial deadlines.”

  I said that there was one critical issue I had to raise, even though it was difficult. “If we are going to create a real peace rather than an uneasy cease-fire,” I said, “Karadzic and Mladic will have to be captured. This is not simply a question of justice but also of peace. If they are not captured, no peace agreement we create in Dayton can ultimately succeed.” There was silence at the Cabinet table.

  “We can only go to the Hill with a full agreement,” I went on. In the continuing silence, it seemed like a good time to raise some other important issues, even though they would not be resolved that day. “I know that this still concerns the military, but we cannot give up Gorazde and create sixty-five thousand more refugees. Also, there is real tension over what we are doing on the Zones of Separation. If we patrol only on the internal demarcation line, we will be partitioning the country. We must prevent Bosnia from becoming a Cyprus or a Korea. “Finally, there is a political dilemma. The Hill sees us as replacing the U.N. in the middle of the war, although of course this is not the case. We need to explain better that we won’t send troops without an agreement, and we won’t participate in an operation like the U.N.”

  We broke up with many expressions of support. The President led us into the Roosevelt Room, where he told the press, “This is the best chance for peace we’ve had since the war began. It may be the last chance we have for a very long time.” Then he and Vice President Gore posed for pictures with the negotiating team, wished us success, and left.