July 7, 1996
Arbitrators for Bosnians: 'Diplomats' in GI Gear
By MIKE O'CONNOR
MERBEGOVACA, Bosnia-Herzegovina -- A U.S. lieutenant colonel who commands nearly 900 troops, 44 Bradley fighting vehicles and 14 tanks was sitting under the swaying branches of a willow tree recently and using soothing words to ask 22 Bosnian villagers to think again before turning to violence in the face of the rising tensions here.
He acknowledged that promises made to them under the peace accords had not been fulfilled. The best he could say was that if they were patient, and trusted him, things might improve.
"Hold on to peace in your corner of the world and wait," the colonel, Tony Cuculo, said, making it sound as grand an offer as possible.
Without diplomatic training, U.S. soldiers here in northeastern Bosnia are holding together a peace that might have collapsed by now if it had depended solely on international civilian agencies or on the good will of Bosnian politicians.
With the former warring forces for the most part confined to their barracks, many senior U.S. commanders are spending most of their time cajoling and gladhanding local officials and running meetings to encourage the Muslims, Croats and Serbs to work out their differences.
This is far beyond what they envisioned when they were sent to Bosnia last December. But confronted by officials here who often refuse to comply with the peace agreement, and by the ineffective efforts of many international agencies, some American officers say they have the choice of expanding their responsibilities or watching war begin again.
"This is more a cease-fire than a peace, anyway," said Col. Gregory Fontenot, who commands one of the two U.S. brigades in the U.S. sector.
In places like this village, the cease-fire is close to fraying.
Encouraged by aid agencies, Muslims who were expelled from this area have begun repairing their homes, preparing to return.
But this is Bosnian Serb territory, and local Serbian officials are threatening to give some of the houses to Serbian refugees. The Muslims are threatening violence to prevent that.
Under the peace agreement, a civilian commission is to decide who owns vacant houses. But more than six months after the accord was signed, the commission is just beginning its work in Bosnia.
U.S. officers do not have the right to decide who can occupy the houses, so Cuculo huddled with the villagers in an effort to prevent violence.
They agreed with his advice, for the moment, and as he left one villager said, "We trust Americans, and we want to name a street here after Colonel Cuculo." It was quite a compliment, considering there are only two streets in the village.
Three days later, at the weekly meeting of civilian authorities from the three Bosnian factions, the Americans pressed the officials into agreeing that no one would do anything with the houses for at least a week; meanwhile, it was hoped, some arrangement would be worked out among senior Muslim and Serbian officials.
Their approach, the officers acknowledge, comes more from desperation than long-range planning: keep people talking, and agree to almost anything that seems like progress, while the tougher questions are papered over or postponed.
The officers are learning the skills on the job, relying on help from international relief workers, human rights workers and other international monitors, along with U.S. military specialists in civil affairs and psychological operations.
"We're going just 24 hours at a time, looking for what agreements we can get on the small things and hoping the big things don't blow up under our feet," one officer said.
At the meeting, Fontenot tried to bring the three sides together at least on a few reconstruction projects. "If there's any area of overlapping interests, we're looking for it," he said.
With loans from other governments still not available for the most part, the colonel pointed to an American businessman the Army had invited and said: "We have a hard-core capitalist over here who wants to make you all rich. So you can argue, or you can get on with putting a BMW in every garage."
The peace accord envisioned that Bosnian authorities would work out differences more or less on their own. But while local officials, who usually knew each other before the war, may want to agree, senior officials on all sides often order them to refuse to cooperate.
Cuculo appealed to the local officials at the meeting to show independence and to agree to work together to encourage their superiors to be more conciliatory, and Fontenot said later that the officers hoped that eventually pressure from the people will overcome recalcitrant political leaders.
"I don't see enough progress in the minds of the officials," Fontenot said, "but while we bring them together, we are also allowing for reconciliation among average people."
