Contemporary Violence: Postmodern War in Kosovo and Chechnya

Abstract

Cerwyn Moore’s analysis of wars in Kosovo (1998–99) and Chechnya (1994–96 and 1999– 2002) starts by insisting that traditional accounts of war in International Relations cannot adequately explain contemporary violence and, therefore, we should favour a revised approach relying on hermeneutics and, thus, events, facts and stories. Indeed, given their locations, both Kosovo and Chechnya are places where the outbreak of violence provided an opportunity for the resurrection of myths and narratives of national identity that further inflamed the dispute. The very beginning of the examination of the situation in Kosovo necessitates two important clarifications (if not corrections). First, the author says that ‘Kosovo [is] locally referred to as Kosova’ (p. 35) – yes, but only amongst the Kosovo Albanians and never amongst the Kosovo Serbs. And, second, the author claims that ‘[u]ntil recent years Kosovo was a province of the post-Dayton Serbian Republic’ (p. 35) – ‘post-Dayton’ refers to BosniaHerzegovina and not to Serbia, but, more importantly, Kosovo was a province of Serbia long before the 1995 Dayton Agreement. In contrast, the history of Chechnya is presented more accurately with some important insights about the cause of Chechen separatism and external response to it. In fact, the Russian political involvement following the end of communism has often included operations in Chechnya. As a response, the war resurrected the relevance of religion for Chechen identity: Even though the immediate post-Soviet period was not officially characterized by religious elements, the post-1996 constitution defined the Chechen state as Islamic (pp. 59–60). Of course, the Western media were interested in developments from the very beginning. In order to approach them and further their cause, both Chechens and Kosovo Albanians tried to distribute images of extreme violence and crimes. For example, while the former produced, copied and sent abroad DVDs and CDs explaining the Chechen resistance, the Kosovo Liberation Army (KLA) relied on news bulletins and websites aimed at provoking an international intervention (pp. 79–81). In this respect, Moore has a valid point when insisting on the relevance of stories, narratives and interpretation that can surely provide International Relations with more profound understanding of conflict. Both in the Balkans and in the North Caucasus, the locals relied on stories (often of disputable reliability) in order to construct the image of an enemy and secure external attention. However, such situations are usually characterized by a win-lose outcome. In the former Yugoslavia, for example, the Western media and officials were more sympathetic to Slovenian, Croatian and, later, Kosovo Albanian narratives, while the other, Serbian, stories remained unheard. Moore moves on by offering an account of the armed resistance movements. He claims that ‘[i]n Kosovo and Chechnya, criminality and criminalization combined’ (p. 106) and, in order to illustrate the existence of lawlessness, he talks about the KLA activities and the Chechen movements, respectively. Some Chechens were interested in adopting radical Salafism, some in creating a professional Chechen army, some in joining the Special Purpose Islamic Regiment. Perspectives on European Politics and Society Vol. 13, No. 2, 246–249, June 2012