Kosovo’s contradictions

I’ve been slow to write about my stay week before last in Pristina, where I was teaching at the American University of Kosovo and talking with both old friends and new. Caveat emptor: they are overwhelmingly middle class folks in or near Pristina who are doing much better than average.

My impressions are contradictory. Here are some of the them:

1. Pristina is a far more cheerful place than once it was, but the complaints are loud and long.

No one seems to think the city is improving, but the improvements are dramatic: the Mother Teresa Boulevard pedestrian zone is crowded day and night, mainly with young people and children. The restaurants and cafes have multiplied many times over the past twenty years. The cafes are jammed, the restaurants less so. New hotels are popping up here and there, including a Marriott on its way. The CityInn and its restaurant, where we stayed, were first-rate. Traffic often moves slowly, but Kosovar drivers are remarkably indulgent of pedestrians, at least those who cross on the zebra stripes, and respectful of the traffic signals. Neither honking nor screeching brakes are common. The airport, a chaotic nightmare for years after the war, is a model of order and decorum both arriving and departing.

2. The country is overwhelmingly Muslim, but few women “cover” and few men go to mosque.

Some Kosovars are undoubtedly more religious than once they were, especially in the countryside. It would be surprising if the end of Communist and Serbian repression of Islam did not lead to more overt signs of religiosity. Perhaps one in a hundred women on the street in Pristina covers her hair, many still wearing tight jeans. Far fewer wear burqas. The Saudis and especially the Turks have been paying to rehabilitate mosques, and one person, horrified, showed me a photograph of a couple of dozen men blocking a (small) street during Friday prayers. Young people out for the evening circulate mostly in single-gender groups, not mixed male and female. Still, Riyadh and Ankara must be disappointed in the returns on their religious investments, at least in Pristina.

3. Many people think the country is headed in the wrong direction, even if the economy is thriving relative to the rest of the Balkans.

Kosovo’s economy has grown every year since 2003, and the entrepreneurs I spoke with are pleased with how things are going, but recent NDI polling suggests a plurality of both Albanians and Serbs are disappointed. The focus of their disillusion is the government: it has failed to convince a large slice of the population that the institutions will treat them fairly, especially when it comes to jobs. Everyone complains about corruption, but somehow the same political parties and personalities keep winning elections. Patronage is part of the answer: the incumbents always seem to be able to offer employment and pensions. Corruption is a big issue for everyone I spoke with, but Kosovars tend to interpret prosecutions, which are increasing, as a sign of how bad things are rather than how the courts are beginning to do their job.

4. Kosovars got their own state, but they don’t all want to keep it.

Every time I visit Kosovo, I meet people who tell me they would give up independence and their own state for union with Albania. They hold that view despite the miserable performance of the Albanian politicians: political Tirana is far more conflictual than political Pristina. Governance there is pretty bad. But for some people ethnic solidarity is more important. “We are the same people” they declare, despite the history of differences. Albania during the Cold War was an isolated and absolute dictatorship allied with Communist China while Kosovo enjoyed relative autonomy in non-aligned Yugoslavia. The border between the two was a hard one, both politically and topographically. Kosovo’s links to Europe are mainly to Germany and Switzerland while Albania’s are more towards Italy. The Serb presence in Kosovo is also a key distinguishing characteristic. Without it, Kosovo would look much more like the eastern province of Albania than a distinct polity worthy of its own state. But you can’t expect someone who wants his capital in Tirana to worry much about that.

5. The environment is polluted, but nature is beautiful.

The big problem is air pollution. Pristina is among the worst cities in Europe to breathe in. But wherever the bulldozers have not yet arrived, the natural environment is appealing and sometimes spectacular. We drove from sleepy Dragas north through bustling Djakovica/Djakova to Decan/Decani, where the Serb monastery and church look out towards the mountainous route to Montenegro. I’ve been into the mountains around the Brezovica area as well. Very nice. We unfortunately didn’t make it to the Rugova Valley, which I gather is also attractive. Just outside Pristina is the huge Germia park, with its gargantuan swimming pool, and even the parks inside the city are improving.

6. The place is peaceful, but not reconciled.

One Kosovo politician told me Albanians and Serbs are no longer prepared to kill each other, almost no matter what. The fever has passed, he suggested. But there are still resentments and distrust. Little has been done to reconcile: Serbia has not apologized for its homicidal repression and Kosovars are still treating all their fighters as heroes, even though they are aware that some killed innocent Albanians and Serbs, including after the war. The peace is personal more than political. While I understand domestic violence is a serious problem in Kosovo, during a week of walking many miles in its streets and parks, I never heard a voice raised in anger, even addressed to a recalcitrant child. At least in public, where evereyone seems to know everyone else’s cousin, Kosovars seem determined to keep the peace.

7. It’s stable, even if the Prime Minister had to go to The Hague.

Called to face the Special Tribunal at The Hague charged with investigating crimes in Kosovo, Prime Minister Haradinaj resigned, a couple of days after he and I had a chat about the dialogue with Belgrade and the tariffs he had imposed on Serbian goods, in retaliation for Serbia’s successful campaign against acceptance of Kosovo in international organizations (most notably UNESCO and Interpol). His two previous war crimes indictments, by the International Criminal Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia, caused unrest in Kosovo. This time around things have been calm. Elections are expected in September or maybe October. Ramush likely believes the court’s actions will redound to his eventual political benefit, as did the previous indictments. That has been true throughout the Balkans: those pursued by the courts have been greeted by their ethnic compatriots as heroes, not villains.