Third World Report: Voting in Kosovo

By Christian Hummel | Monday, December 3, 2001

Kosovo After-Action Report

What a racket! If you have the chance, I highly suggest working as an elections supervisor for the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe.

These clowns came from all over Europe and the U.S. Most of the election supervisors arrived in Thessaloniki airport, where we were greeted by armed men. As we climbed aboard our buses for transit to our training center, a hotel complex in Halkidiki, I overheard one older gentleman explain to another that he loved these free trips. Monitoring elections is like being on a safari where you are paid to be there. But we'll talk more about that later.

The OSCE is responsible for developing and directing political life in a number of post-Socialist countries, most notably Bosnia-Herzegovina and Kosovo. Periodically, it is customary for 'democracies' to host elections, and the OSCE is the organization that manages them. Kosovo is in a tough situation. Legally, according to the U.N., which basically owns the province now, Kosovo is still part of the Federal Republic of Yugoslavia (i.e. Serbia and Montenegro). Practically speaking, the damn place is independent on a de facto basis and it's only a matter of time before it is de jure.

On November 17, the citizens of Kosovo went to the polls to select members of a new provincial assembly that will, in theory, be responsible for developing policies for the province exclusive of Belgrade and in conjunction with the international authorities present. However, the only issue anyone cares about, independence, is the issue the assembly will have no power over. Naturally, the only issue on which the parties campaigned was the future status of Kosovo.

In order to properly prepare us for the rigors of supervising elections, the OSCE put us up in a large resort complex in the Halkidiki, a region of Greece outside Thessaloniki. The training session was a lot like a bad cruise. There was free food, but you had to pay for the drinks. The rooms were small and not meant to be dwelt in for very long. Plus, there were these people wearing OSCE vests running around telling us where to go (like jackass cruise directors, I guess). The biggest difference was what we were talking about—mine awareness instead of shuffleboard ('The captain will host a discussion on the political situation in Kosovo followed by drinks on the Lido Deck...').

Among the assembled masses—there were 2000 monitors—quite a few characters stood out. There was the former Foreign Service Officer who was arrested by U.N. Police for being drunk and disorderly... on election day. The guy had been drunk all week and, I suppose, taking the day off was out of the question. Another was my old friend Martin, a former Franciscan lay missionary from the heady days of Bosnia. Lingering on the fringes were gangs of retirees from throughout the U.S., members of the Czech military, and 10 Canadians (it was all they could spare). The retirees were probably the worst. On the flight back from Thessaloniki, all they could talk about was how great these trips were and how much money they got to pocket. Oh, right: the elections are good, too. I sat next to a guy from Atlanta who worked for UNMIK (U.N. Mission in Kosovo) who said that, if this was typical, then he would never work elections again. The whole situation was more absurd and unprofessional than he could handle.

My training session was led by a French lawyer and a German Army colonel (retired). I can only imagine their after-hours discussions of history. Robert, the Colonel, explained that we must be relentless in our efficiency. Example:
'See this voter (calling up a power-point picture of an elderly man voting)? He is inefficient! You must help him!'

Everyone in the room, aptly named Beach Bungalow II, laughed. He replied that we shouldn't laugh at the old man. My comment about getting rid of all the voters to maximize efficiency wasn't considered. The training continued for several days along these lines, but I honestly don't remember much of what was said.

On our final day in Greece, members from Kosovo Force (KFOR) offered sessions on avoiding landmines, map-reading, and radio communication. After enduring ten minutes of a silly security briefing ('There is crime in Kosovo.' Really?), a crew of us, led by Martin, decided to see Greece. We rented a car and headed to Thessaloniki. Upon reaching the outskirts of Greece's 'Second City' we decided to keep driving. We eventually ended up in Meteora, a series of Orthodox monasteries perched high atop several cliffs, after passing through such gems as Kozani and later, Larissa. By the end of the day, capped off by a nice meal in Thessaloniki, we had put over 700 kilometers on the car, more than enough to bring us to Athens.

Our transit to Kosovo was fairly straightforward in spite of some initial security concerns. While we were learning to create efficient voting stations, Albanian separatists battled Macedonian police, raising fears of renewed fighting. Having been cut off from the outside world for several days, we didn't learn this until after our arrival in Kosovo. With armed escort throughout the entire journey, the bus ride was simply long and boring. Once in Kosovo, the long convoy separated into groups headed to the various towns at a Greek KFOR base. As I was off to Gjilan, I had another hour and a half to go.

What was most amazing about Kosovo was the amount of visible wealth. I had worked in Bosnia approximately two and half years after the war ended and this trip to Kosovo was roughly the same time after the bombing campaign. What impresses me is how much further ahead Kosovo is than Bosnia was at a similar point. There are many reasons for this.

First, the war in Kosovo was largely a low-intensity conflict between armed Albanian and the Yugoslav police forces. That is, until the NATO air war. It did not involve large armies as in Bosnia. Second, the ethnic composition of Kosovo is overwhelmingly Albanian, with only a small minority of Serbs remaining in the province. Therefore, there was much less ethnic cleansing than before. Finally, many Kosovars had been working abroad in Germany and Switzerland for decades due to the economic pressures on them within the province. With remittances and the money saved, many families find themselves much better off than their Bosnian counterparts.

The level of preparation for the elections was mixed. The OSCE's core supervisor introduced herself by saying her name and stating that she couldn't wait to leave. Housing ranged from adequate to piss-poor and there were no political briefings. Two days before Election Day, we were introduced to our drivers and language assistants. I had a little problem with my translator—she didn't speak English. To make matters worse, she also had a little bit of a stutter. At first I thought she was cold, but when we got to our polling center, I realized that communication through her was going to be impossible. The local election officials looked on with glee as they thought about how they could get around my supervision. However, a quick stop at the OSCE field office let me sack my first translator and take on a new one.

Election day itself was fairly unremarkable. We had to get up at three in the morning to collect our 'sensitive materials' and then we sat around empty polling stations until they opened at seven. The biggest problem concerned the Albanian flag. A little demonstration erupted outside when the international polling center supervisor refused to have the Albanian flag flown from the school. For about an hour, no one came in the building to vote. Somehow, at the end the day, the flag causing this controversy ended up in my backpack. Funny how things like that can work out.

The voters ranged from the young to the very old. The young are 'efficient' voters—they enter, collect their ballots, mark them, and leave. The old ones are a different story. Typically, an old couple would arrive together. Invariably, one of them a) can't read, b) can't see or c) isn't sure for whom to vote. What ensues is usually quite comical as the husband tries to go help his wife while four different polling officials are yelling at him to stop. Meanwhile, the party representatives are trying to grab the official voters' list and my committee chairman is sneaking out to have a smoke.

Following the twelve hours of voting, each polling station conducted its own count. Naturally, our count was off. Despite all of our efforts, our numbers were off by two. We eventually concluded that two people didn't sign the voters' registry when they voted. My committee suggested that we simply add two signatures. Remarkably, everyone in the room, including the NGO and party representatives thought this was a good idea. I eventually convinced them that this would not be proper and that I would handle the discrepancy back at OSCE headquarters. When the count was done, all of them approached me—and had me sign their timesheets! The OSCE was paying a per diem to all of the committee members. I'm not sure what that suggests about local ownership of the political process.

I think, at the end of the day, that I am skeptical about the whole process. Whether the international community (or Serbia for that matter) likes it or not, Kosovo will be independent soon. There was a division between those I talked to about whether there will be a 'Greater Albania' or not, but it shouldn't surprise anyone if the borders of some of these countries change a bit in the coming years. Although there are competent folks working for the international community in places like Bosnia and Kosovo, quite a few are idiots who would fail miserably at being the local dog catcher. I guess that's why they end up in Kosovo—their own country won't have them. Finally, if even the local nonpartisan poll-watchers have to be paid to have them participate, then the standard of political life in the province is probably suspect.

Civil Society

'If we were disturbed by the depravities and disorders in which we found these provinces immersed, our spirit was especially distressed at seeing the ineptitude and inertia of the peoples, which, are due to the laziness of their ancestors, leaves the lands desperately idle.'
—Report of the Inquisitors to the Venetian Senate Regarding Dalmatia, 1751. I guess some things never change...

Over the last couple of years, I have become fond of the NPR show 'Prairie Home Companion' and Garrison Keillor's descriptions of halcyon Lake Wobegone. While meandering the streets of Zagreb, I've thought about the warm feelings between neighbors, the eccentricities of small-town life, and the inflexible Calvinist and Lutheran moralities he depicts, and I've concluded that Zagreb is about the complete opposite of that fictional Minnesota town.

A senior international official described it best when he said that civil society in Croatia is 'embryonic.' Now, civil society in political scientific circles refers to the space in between the people and formal political institutions. More commonly, and in my opinion more useful, civil society can describe how people interact with one another. The Zagreb tram system is a good indicator of the state of civil society.

Zagreb, unlike other Croatian cities, possesses a fairly useful and thorough public transportation system, the highlight of which are fourteen tram lines. Now, every tram line tends to run adjacent to at least one other line, meaning that at any given location, you have two chances to move. I'm not an economist so I can't speculate as to whether this is efficient or not, but that is just the way it is. Further, it seems that every tram line converges at either Trg Ban Jelacic or in front of the train station ('glavni kolodvor'). At any time of day, you can approach one of these stops and see masses of people waiting for the next tram.

When a tram does arrive, all hell breaks loose. Rather than lining up peacefully by the sides of the opening doors, everyone rushes to get aboard. This might be okay if it weren't for the masses of people trying to get off at the same time. The problem is exacerbated by the constant presence of people who feel compelled to stand right in front of the door, rather than sitting down or moving to the interior of the tram. Young people, clutching their significant other cram aboard, old men beat each other with canes, and old women throw elbows in a way that would make Charles Barkley proud. For the lonely American student, accustomed to the order of the Washington Metro, the trams are a spectacle to behold. I think I've gotten the hang of it though. I knocked over some sixty year-old woman when she tried to take a seat near the ticket puncher. I showed her!

Another disconcerting element of Zagreb life is the ubiquitous graffiti. The
buildings in the city are all of some Baroque-Reformation-Generic Central European style that I can't describe, not knowing art history. Suffice it to say, they look pretty sharp lining the streets. Naturally, bored kids have taken it upon themselves to tattoo each and everyone of them with some wise words. They range from the unsophisticated ('F*** you!') to the more politically astute ('anti WTO'). The only building not marked is the US Embassy, guarded by legions of local police and rent-a-cops. Even national heroes get tagged—someone had some choice words to say on the statue of King Tomislav.

Queues are another source of confusion out here. People can't seem to fathom the notion that those already in line are there for a reason. No matter how short or long the line is, invariably someone will go straight to the counter and demand service. Unfortunately, only rarely does anyone say something to them. I've gotten adept at clearing my throat in such a way as to convey my disapproval of this tactic. Queues also run parallel to desks, rather than perpendicular to them.

Getting things done often requires great mental preparation. My most direct encounter with the legendary governmental bureaucracy involved the processing of my visa. First, American citizens do not need a visa for stays up to 90 days. Since I have and will continue to enter and leave the country at that rate, in theory, I shouldn't worry about getting a visa. However, the State Department, my gracious benefactor, thinks otherwise. I started the process while in Washington where I applied for a multi-entry visa. After weeks of waiting, and about $60, I finally got it the day before I left. The visa I received was a single-entry visa, my money and explicit requests notwithstanding. Once in Croatia, I had to apply for a special 'extended stay' permit. That meant going to the police station.

The police station had the long queues of foreigners in the same situation I was in. After handing over three forms, I waited for two and a half hours to have my 'interview.' The interview lasted for five minutes and largely consisted of my trying to explain how I was a researcher, but not in school. Eventually, someone concluded, and I won't correct them, that I am a doctoral student at Dartmouth College. Close enough. I was then given a date to return.

About a month later, I returned to the police station to collect my 'permit.' And sure enough, it was ready! I can't describe how shocked I was to receive the stamp in my passport. Actually, I still don't believe it. All I can say is that having letters from various Ministries seemed to have worked. However, the poor Bosnian folks I was standing next to seem to have fared more poorly.

Ultimately, I'm of mixed opinion in regards to the state of 'civil society' in Croatia. There is a society and it's roughly civilized, but where along the grand scale of European societies it resides is uncertain. The great sport here is to complain. My biggest complaint is over how much the locals bitch about things. Hell, this place has working electricity and water, public transportation, and low crime. I don't see any airplanes flying into buildings here. So, what if a kid can get his degree by bribing his professor and problems can get 'fixed' by knowing the right people? Any place where it's expected that you will spend the great portion of your day sitting around drinking coffee and not working is fine by me. Just don't expect to be in the EU anytime soon.

Third World Report: Voting in Kosovo

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