Will Serbia use Mladic detention to end Kosovo impasse and join EU?

The capture of Ratko Mladic is not just an opportunity for justice, but also a chance for diplomacy.

Can the Balkans finally turn the page? Ratko Mladic, the Serb general who was Milosevic's military spear-carrier in the long wars of anti-Muslim extermination and ethnic cleansing in the western Balkans in the 1990s, has finally been caught. Can Belgrade use this achievement to face down its nationalist past and finally bring closure on the Kosovo question, which is blocking a future for Serbia in the EU?

Like some wretched SS general hiding away after 1945, Mladic had a network of supporters and admirers who protected him from justice. He continued to receive his army pension – paid to his family – until a few years ago. Too many Serbs have been in denial about his role, too ready to forgive him as they woke up ten years ago to discover that Milosevic, Mladic and Karadzic had finally buried the major European federal state that Tito created after 1945.

Serbia's moderninising, pro-European president, Boris Tadic, a committed social democrat, always insisted both as defence minister and then as president that he wanted to bring Mladic to trial. Now he has delivered. As Balkans minister from 2001-2005 and then as UK delegate to the Council of Europe, I insisted that Serbia had to deliver – not protect – Mladic, if the door to Europe was to open fully. Now Tadic deserves Europe's thanks.

But will he snatch diplomatic defeat from the jaws of the Mladic arrest victory? In one of those spectacular coincidences that Balkan history adores, Tadic was due to meet President Obama tomorrow in Warsaw. But, in a misguided diplomatic blunder, Tadic declared earlier this week that he would snub the US president by refusing to go to Poland to greet him.

The reason for this was that Kosovo was invited to take part in the meeting along with the other ex-Yugoslav states. Yet Tadic could still turn up in Warsaw as Europe's hero of the hour, having finally hunted down the western world's most wanted war criminal to send him to The Hague for trial.

Instead the official Serb line – at least until the news of Mladic's arrest – was that Belgrade was so offended by the presence of Kosovo's president in Warsaw that Tadic would not fly to Warsaw to shake Obama's hand.

Coup in Poland

Washington is still strongly committed to supporting the new post-communist democracies of eastern Europe and the Balkans. While George W Bush took his eye off the Balkans to focus on Iraq and Afghanistan, Barack Obama will not forget that it was the US that helped defeat the Milosevic murder machine, first in Bosnia and then in Kosovo.

Obama's key foreign policy advisers, as well as Vice-President Joe Biden and the secretary of state, Hillary Clinton, are children of the 1990s who watched in frustration as neither the UN nor the EU was able to stop neither the genocidal slaughter in Srebrenica nor the mass killings of Kosovar Muslims by Serb paramilitaries under "generals" such as Ratko Mladic.

Getting Obama to Warsaw is a remarkable coup for Radek Siksorski, Poland's single-minded, outspoken but strategic foreign minister. Oxford-educated Sikorksi has moved on from a 1980s neoconservatism to his position today as Europe's most innovative and creative foreign minister. He has helped reduce the age-old Poland enmity of its two neighbours, Russia and Germany, to manageable, even friendly, relationships.

He has more contacts in Washington than any other European politician and has parlayed these into Obama's major visit. To place Poland as the pivot of Euroatlantic politics in the new Europe, Sikorski invited all European nations to come and talk with Obama.

These now include the new nation state of Kosovo, which is recognised by 75 other countries and is accepted as a partner by international financial institutions. But Kosovo faces a determined campaign by Serbia to deny the young nation's identity. Russia, which never loses an opportunity to meddle, backs Belgrade's anti-Kosovo line. Serb anti-Kosovar diplomacy is the continuation of Milosevic's war by other means.

Demonic obsessions

Serbia has allies in a few EU member states, notably the two Orthodox countries of Greece and Cyprus. Spain has also broken ranks with EU solidarity, citing the flimsy excuse that recognising Kosovo would encourage Catalan and Basque separatism – as if recognising other ex-Yugoslav entities would not.

Slovakia and Romania are rightly angry at the nationalist populism of Hungary's new conservative government, which issues passports to Hungarian minorities in its two neighbours, with the clear implication that the Hungarian-origin citizens of Slovakia and Romania owe first loyalty to Budapest.

Only Romania has decided to make its non-recognition of Kosovo a reason to reject Sikorski's invitation to Warsaw to sup with Obama. Both the US and Sikorski say firmly that the Kosovar president, Atifete Jahiga, will attend the Warsaw summit.

Sikorski was very clear. "Kosovo is recognised by some 75 countries, including the majority of the European Union. Poland recognises Kosovo so there was no reason not to invite Kosovo's representative," he told the Financial Times. He also had a blunt message for President Tadic. "Serbia has to show that it has overcome the demons from its past if it wants to join the European Union."

In fact, the EU's foreign affairs chief, Cathy Ashton, has been quietly but effectively trying to bring Belgrade and Pristina together. Her chief aide, the able British diplomatist Robert Cooper, has been involved in quasi-shuttle diplomacy between Brussels, Belgrade and Pristina.

Smart Serbs know that the notion that Kosovo is just a breakaway province which will accept rule from Belgrade is a fiction. Sadly, some EU member states such as Spain, Greece, Slovakia and Romania help Belgrade – and, behind Belgrade, Moscow – maintain this fiction.

Obama and Sikorski have called this bluff by insisting that Kosovo has much right as any EU nation to sit next to representatives of other Balkan states at international conferences. Serbia is locked in denial on this issue.

The question now is whether the arrest of Mladic allows Tadic to come triumphantly to Warsaw, or whether Serbian nationalist irredentism insists he stay in Belgrade rather than sit at the same table as his fellow-president from Kosovo. The sooner all of the EU, and the rest of the world, let Kosovo be Kosovo, the quicker Serbia can start its push for EU membership.

Mladic's arrest should be the moment when Serbia cuts its Kosovar Gordian knot and moves forward to Europe, rather than remembering the past when Serb bullies such as Mladic assumed that they could rule other peoples and nations demanding freedom.

Denis MacShane is a British MP and a former minister for Europe

Denis MacShane is MP for Rotherham and was a minister at Foreign and Commonwealth Office
A woman in an Indian surrogacy hostel. Photo: Getty
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The Handmaid's Tale has already come true - just not for white western women

Why, if the fate of the fictional Offred is so horrifying, is the fate of real-life women in surrogacy hostels causing so little outrage?

When anti-choice Republican Justin Humphrey referred to pregnant women as “hosts”, I found myself wondering, not for the first time, whether everything had got “a bit Handmaid’s Tale.”

I’m not alone in having had this thought. Since Donald Trump won the US election, sales of Margaret Atwood’s dystopian novel have spiked and we’ve seen a plethora of articles telling us how “eerily relevant [it] is to our current political landscape.” In an interview during Cuba’s international book fair, Atwood herself said she believes the recent “bubbling up” of regressive attitudes towards women is linked to The Handmaid’s Tale’s current success: “It’s back to 17th-century puritan values of New England at that time in which women were pretty low on the hierarchy … you can think you are being a liberal democracy but then — bang — you’re Hitler’s Germany.”

Scary stuff. Still, at least most present-day readers can reassure themselves that they’ve not arrived in the Republic of Gilead just yet.

For those who have not yet read it, The Handmaid’s Tale tells the story of Offred, who lives under a theocratic dictatorship in what used to be the United States of America. White, middle-class and college-educated, Offred once enjoyed a significant degree of privilege, but now belongs to a class of women whose sole purpose is to gestate offspring for high-status couples. Much of the shock value of the story comes from the contrast between Offred’s former life – in which she had a name of her own - and her present-day existence. If this can happen to someone like Offred, it is suggested, surely it can happen to any of us.

Or so that is what a white, middle-class reader – a reader like me – might tell herself. Recently I’ve started to wonder whether that’s strictly true. It can be reassuring to stick to one narrative, one type of baddie – the religious puritan, the pussy-grabbing president, the woman-hating Right. But what if it’s more complicated than that? There’s something about the current wallowing in Atwood’s vision that strikes me as, if not self-indulgent, then at the very least naive.

In 1985, the same year The Handmaid’s Tale was published, Gina Correa published The Mother Machine. This was not a work of dystopian fiction, but a feminist analysis of the impact of reproductive technologies on women’s liberties. Even so, there are times when it sounds positively Handmaid’s Tale-esque:

“Once embryo transfer technology is developed, the surrogate industry could look for breeders – not only in poverty-stricken parts of the United States, but in the Third World as well. There, perhaps, one tenth of the current fee could be paid to women”

Perhaps, at the time her book was written, Correa’s imaginings sounded every bit as dark and outlandish as Atwood’s. And yet she has been proved right. Today there are parts of the world in which renting the womb of a poor woman is indeed ten times cheaper than in the US. The choice of wealthy white couples to implant embryos in the bodies of brown women is seen, not as colonialist exploitation, but as a neutral consumer choice. I can’t help wondering why, if the fate of the fictional Offred is so horrifying to western feminists today, the fate of real-life women in surrogacy hostels is causing so little outrage.

I suppose the main argument of these feminists would be that real-life women choose to be surrogates, whereas Offred does not. But is the distinction so clear? If Offred refuses to work as a handmaid, she may be sent to the Colonies, where life expectancy is short. Yet even this is a choice of sorts. As she herself notes, “nothing is going on here that I haven't signed up for. There wasn't a lot of choice but there was some, and this is what I chose.” In the real world, grinding poverty drives women of colour to gestate the babies of the wealthy. As one Indian surrogate tells interviewer Seemi Pasha, “Why would I be a surrogate for someone else if I don't need the money? Why would I make myself go through this pain?"

None of the feminists who expressed shock at Justin Humphrey referring to pregnant women as “hosts” have, as far as I am aware, expressed the same horror at surrogacy agencies using the exact same term. As Dorothy Roberts wrote in Killing The Black Body, the notion of reproductive liberty remains “primarily concerned with the interests of white, middle-class women” and  “focused on the right to abortion.” The right not just to decide if and when to have children, but to have children of one’s own – something women of colour have frequently been denied – can be of little interest of those who have never really feared losing it (hence the cloth-eared response of many white women to Beyoncè’s Grammy performance).

As Roberts notes, “reproductive liberty must encompass more than the protection of an individual woman’s choice to end her pregnancy”:

“It must encompass the full range of procreative activities, including the ability to bear a child, and it must acknowledge that we make reproductive decisions within a social context, including inequalities of wealth and power. Reproductive freedom is a matter of social justice, not individual choice.”

It’s easy to mock the pretensions to pro-life piety of a pussy-grabbing president. But what about the white liberal left’s insistence that criticising the global trade in sexual and gestational services is “telling a women what she can and cannot do with her body” and as such is illiberal and wrong? “Individual choice” can be every bit as much of a false, woman-hating god as the one worshipped by the likes of Humphrey and Trump.

One of the most distressing scenes in The Handmaid’s Tale takes place when Janine/Ofwarren has just given birth and has her child taken from her:

“We stand between Janine and the bed, so she won’t have to see this. Someone gives her a drink of grape juice. I hope there’s wine in it, she’s still having the pains, for the afterbirth, she’s crying helplessly, burnt-out miserable tears.”

Right now there are women suffering in just this way. Only they’re probably not white, nor middle-class, nor sitting in a twee white bedroom in Middle America. Oh, and they’re not fictional, either.

The dystopian predictions of 1985 have already come true. It’s just that women like me didn’t notice until we started to be called “hosts”, too.

Glosswitch is a feminist mother of three who works in publishing.