The aftermath of the war on Yugoslavia is not following the typical
pattern. Usually, the commander in chief basks in the glow of victory.
Medals are handed out, parades organized, speeches given to the masses.
Veterans are heralded as preservers of freedom. The national soul swells
in patriotic fervor. The merchants of death gain a new lease on life.
Not this time. This is no victory glow, no parades, no flag waving.
Outside the mainstream media, there is a curious lack of any bragging at
all. There are no yellow ribbons adorning trees. Indeed, veterans of
this war are more pitied than praised. Veterans of past wars are rushing
to repudiate the whole mess.
As regards the “national soul,” it is pretty much what it was before
and during the war: skeptical of any pronouncement from D.C. Meanwhile,
Congress has moved on to the usual civic pieties: promising to reform a
smattering of failed programs, dreaming up new ways to regulate our
lives, and celebrating Rosa Parks. Even Clinton seems to be backing away
from the topic of the war.
What gives?
This war never enjoyed wide or deep public support, and for good
reason. It was an attack on a far-away sovereign country that never did
anything to any American. No interests of this country were threatened,
or even affected, by the 600-year-long struggle between Christians and
Muslims over Kosovo. The U.S. bombing was simply an aggression of the
sort the Russians used to accuse us of.
Even now, it is difficult to know the real reason for intervention,
since no one believes that the Clinton administration cares about
human-rights violations. You can’t take anti-brutality sermons seriously
when the preacher is simultaneously bombing hospitals, schools, and
water systems,
and killing innocents as a war tactic. Far from giving rise to
nationalist pride, U.S. behavior forms a pit in your stomach.
Clinton tried to draw on antique war myths and accuse his opponents
of appeasement in the face of evil. But it didn’t fly. His poll ratings
actually declined during the war, an astounding fact in light of the
tendency of war to unite a country behind the ruling regime. And these
numbers are from phone polls that dramatically under-assess the level of
dissatisfaction with existing government policy. The war was supported
with intensity by very few, mostly those who had something to gain from
it.
Even according to NATO’s own stated aims, the war was not a success.
The final treaty steps away from the absurd demands made in the
Rambouilett talks. And from a humane point of view, the war was
catastrophic, with thousands dead and an entire society in ruins. The
lack of public celebration of victory reflects a widespread
acknowledgment of this.
The truth about this war was not being spread by mainstream organs of
opinion, of course. But thanks to the Internet, this was the first war
in which a sizeable number of Americans had access to alternative media.
News from anti-war sites was just as accessible as that from pro-war
sites
(again, the mainstream media). So there was no need to rely on the
warfare state’s spokesmen, and those who parrot their opinions.
The contrast between truth and propaganda was so dramatic that we all
received an education in how war disinformation works. Even NATO was
sometimes forced to admit it had lied about its own iniquities. It was
either confess, or lose all credibility.
One of the few reporters to deal somewhat frankly with NATO
atrocities was Steven Erlanger of The New York Times, though he waited
until the NATO occupation to unburden himself fully. Writing in the New
York Times Magazine (June 13, 1999), he points out that no one, Serbian
or Albanian, believed “that this was anything but Washington’s war.” All
the prattle about allies
was just a fig leaf.
He further confirms that the U.S. was, “perhaps out of frustration,”
deliberately targeting civilians. One “month into the war, no Serb
believed that the bombs were not aimed at them or that NATO hit anything
— even hospitals or the Chinese Embassy — by error.”
He tells a horrifying story about the massacre at Aleksinac.
Reporters were invited to view the death inflicted on civilians by NATO.
As they walked, “Western reporters joked to inure themselves to the
bloody human remains on which they were unavoidably stepping.” But
Serbians standing nearby said, “listen to the bastards, speaking English
and laughing.” Serbians wept, says Erlanger, not only at the loss of
life and property, but also “for the death of their own misconceptions
of America.”
And now, we hear of individual Serbs being run out of Kosovo, 80,000
at last count, frightened of terrorism directed against them that NATO
is either powerless to stop or de facto encouraging. When a handful of
Serbs refuses to collaborate, and dares to resist the foreign occupiers
with guns, can anyone really say they are wrong? As Erlanger notes, even
Serbs “have a right to their patriotism, and to their own national
myths, and to their grief.”
There’s a scene in Godfather when Michael Corleone tells his new
girlfriend how his father once offered a contract to a man at gunpoint.
His father said, “either your brains or your signature are going to be
on that paper.” His girlfriend freezes in horror, but Michael quickly
assures her, “that’s my family, Kate, it’s not me.”
It is difficult for Americans to consider the immense human suffering
inflicted on Yugoslavia with weapons built by our tax dollars. Far from
celebrating, there is a widespread tendency to avoid even thinking about
it. But for those who do think, this war makes them want to cry out to
the world: that was the government’s war, not mine.
