Starting Points: Catholic Church

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May 1, 2010

Unfreezing Kosovo

Reconsidering Boundaries in the Balkans

Nikolas K. Gvosdev
NIKOLAS K. GVOSDEV is Professor of National Security Studies at the U.S. Naval War College. The views expressed here are entirely his own.

When Kosovo unilaterally declared its independence in February 2008, proponents of the move assumed that Serbia’s acquiescence to Kosovo’s final status was not absolutely necessary. The United States and many countries in Europe hoped Kosovo would gain quick recognition. These supportive governments thought that Kosovo would then have access to capital and investment, and that the northern, ethnically Serbian parts of the province would want to take part in the post-independence economic boom. Sadly, things have not gone according to plan.

Although the United States and many European countries did recognize the new state, some EU members -- such as Spain -- did not, due to fears of setting a harmful precedent that could weaken the doctrine of territorial integrity. Most other world powers have also declined to recognize an independent Kosovo, including Brazil, China, and India. Although some U.S. policymakers predicted that the Islamic world would embrace a new Muslim state -- and express gratitude to the United States for bringing about its birth -- almost no members of the Organization of the Islamic Conference have extended recognition. Even states that enjoy the patronage of the United States, such as Georgia and Iraq, have declined to support Washington by recognizing Kosovo (both countries face separatist problems of their own).

Being considered nonexistent has led Kosovo to struggle economically -- a situation made even worse by the lack of a formal agreement with Serbia on property claims. As U.S. Assistant Secretary of State Philip Gordon said recently, Kosovo is hampered by “high unemployment, low investment rates, and a relatively small economic base.” The government in Pristina requires Western aid to meet its expenses. Meanwhile, Kosovo remains a regional hub for narcotics, weapons, and human trafficking, with corruption a major deterrent to foreign investment.

Image via Wikipedia

Initially, many hoped that growing prosperity in Kosovo would entice those living in the Serb-majority region north of the Ibar River, as well as the residents of the ethnically Serb enclaves in the south, to reconcile themselves to the reality of Kosovan independence. But the weak economy has left this promise unfulfilled. Serbian participation in the electoral process has been minimal. Even many ethnic Albanians seem to be questioning the merits of independence: whereas 93 percent of Kosovo’s Albanians believed that independence had been a good thing two years ago, that number is 75 percent today.

Making matters more perilous is that, contrary to the assumptions of many proponents of independence, Belgrade has not reconciled itself to this fait accompli. Rather, it is challenging the legality of the unilateral declaration of indepedence, arguing that the rules-based international system was compromised when Kosovo’s status changed without agreement by both parties.

Serbia has asked the International Court of Justice to rule that Kosovo's declaration of independence was illegal according to international law. If the ICJ rules along these lines, then Kosovo would enter a permanent state of limbo (the court's decision is expected later this year). In such a scenario, Kosovo would not be able to join international bodies such as the UN, and its relationship with the EU would remain unsettled. Some countries may withdraw their recognition, as well.

But the ICJ process also creates a pretext for renewed negotiations that might break the existing deadlock. In pushing for talks, the United States and Europe must contend with two realities. First, the government in Pristina is not going to withdraw its declaration of independence, nor are states that have already recognized Kosovo -- beginning with the United States -- prepared to rescind their recognitions. Second, no government in Belgrade will recognize the current boundaries of Kosovo as legitimate. And in the aftermath of the 2004 riots, in which mobs attacked Serbian communities and churches, no Serbian administration can trust that ethnic Serbs and Serbian heritage sites will be safe in an independent Kosovo. To convince Belgrade otherwise would require outside security guarantees, but NATO is not prepared to make an open-ended commitment to deploying forces in Kosovo.

Whatever the outcome, Belgrade would benefit from resolving Kosovo’s status. Serbia’s relations with all of its neighbors -- and its position as the linchpin state of the western Balkans -- are complicated by the lingering Kosovo question. Its domestic politics are also negatively affected, as nationalists are able to attack pro-reform and pro-Western parties by championing the “fate of Kosovo.” Moreover, the U.S. strategy of compartmentalization -- whereby Kosovo is treated as an issue separate from the rest of the U.S.-Serbian relationship -- is not viable. The Obama administration cannot deepen cooperation with Serbia in order to stabilize the western Balkans yet “agree to disagree” on Kosovo.

To move forward, Washington must delink the question of independence from the question of frontiers. In other words, the debate over whether there should be an independent, Albanian-majority state of Kosovo must be handled separately from territorial issues. There are precedents for this approach: after World War I, the international community recognized that there would be an independent Armenia and Poland before the boundaries were definitely created; today, the Israel-Palestinian peace process works from a starting point of a two-state solution, although no final territorial settlement has been made. And yet, ever since the failed Rambouillet peace talks in 1999, diplomats have made the mistake of insisting that an independent Kosovo cover the entirety of the province as defined by the communist strongman Josip Broz Tito.

Belgrade and Pristina may come to an eventual agreement if the question of boundaries is split from the theoretical question of independence. Such talks should proceed without preconditions. This means that Serbia should not be required to change its constitution to cede legal and territorial claims to Kosovo (just as Ireland held on to its constitutional claims to the north of the island until 1998 without precluding talks with the United Kingdom). Nor should the government in Pristina be forced to abandon its earlier declarations.

Territorial adjustment, however, should certainly be on the table. The broad outline of a settlement is already clear: the Serb-majority regions north of the Ibar should remain part of Serbia, with some sort of arrangement made for important Serbian heritage sites and enclaves in the south.

One possible model for the latter is the agreement reached between Italy and the Vatican in 1929. For decades, the Catholic Church had not recognized the takeover of Rome by Italy in 1870; the Italian state was similarly uninclined to cede its claim over its capital city. The Lateran Treaty resolved this issue by establishing Vatican City as a neutral but independent state. Additionally, the Vatican received extraterritorial rights over sacred sites in and around Rome and in other parts of Italy. Of course, the Kosovo case is not identical, but the Lateran model could provide guidelines for a sustainable settlement.

An agreement between Belgrade and Pristina would resolve Kosovo’s state of limbo in the international community. It would simultaneously settle the critical issue that has slowed Serbia’s integration with Europe: Belgrade's ability to show that it controls all the territory under its jurisdiction, a requirement if it is to ensure enforcement of the acquis communautaire, the EU's body of common law. An agreement would also lift the current barriers to Kosovo's membership in the UN, signaling a final resolution to the issue.

Critics of such a plan would suggest that the very idea of redrawing boundaries is dangerous because it could call into question other disputed borders in the Balkans. But the reality on the ground is that Pristina has never controlled the territories north of the Ibar. And as shown by the continued need for NATO troops to protect Serb enclaves and monasteries in the south, Pristina does not really control those areas either. Would NATO member states launch a military campaign to conquer Mitrovica and the north in order to forcibly bring them under Pristina’s governance?

Some critics might also argue that adjusting Kosovo's boundaries would compromise its status as a viable state. Yet Kosovo is far less viable in its current condition. Moreover, if outstanding property disputes and border issues are resolved, international investors would feel more secure investing in Kosovo. Economic development, in turn, would have a positive effect on security and long-term stability.

And adjusting territorial boundaries would not necessarly spark new instability, because any agreement would respect the principles of the 1975 Helsinki accords by being voluntary and negotiated, not a forcible change imposed by one party on another.
Recent statements by senior officials in Belgrade suggest that Serbia wants to resolve the lingering sources of instability in the western Balkans. It has repeatedly said that it is flexibile on the question of Kosovo. Meanwhile, Pristina cannot consolidate its position and begin true governance under the status quo. Restarting serious negotiations between the two sides -- with both parties prepared to offer concessions -- could finally move Kosovo toward a durable, lasting peace.

Apr 12, 2010

Sexual abuse and the Catholic Church : The New Yorker

Image by Meneer de Braker (Akbar2) via Flickr

by Hendrik Hertzberg

On October 31, 1517, a Roman Catholic priest and theologian, Dr. Martin Luther, put the finishing touches on a series of bullet points and, legend has it, nailed the result to the door of the castle church in Wittenberg, Germany—the equivalent, for the time and place, of uploading a particularly explosive blog post. Luther’s was a protest against the sale of chits that were claimed to entitle buyers or their designees to shorter stays in Purgatory. Such chits, known as indulgences, were being hawked as part of Pope Leo X’s fund-raising drive for the renovation of St. Peter’s Basilica. The “Ninety-five Theses on the Power and Efficacy of Indulgences” touched off a high-stakes flame war that rapidly devolved into the real thing, with actual wars, actual flames, and actual stakes. The theological clash that sundered Christendom didn’t just change the face of Western religion; it birthed the modern world.

Half a millennium later, the present agony of Catholicism is very far from being in the same league, even though the National Catholic Reporter has called it “the largest institutional crisis in centuries, possibly in Church history.” The crisis is not about doctrine, at least not directly. It’s about administration; it’s about the structure of power within the Catholic Church; it’s about the Church’s insular, self-protective clerical culture. And, of course, like nearly every one of the controversies that preoccupy and bedevil the Church—abortion, stem-cell research, contraception, celibacy, marriage and divorce and affectional orientation—it’s about sex.

It’s also about indulgence—the institutional indulgence, fitful but systemic, of the sexual exploitation of children by priests. The pattern broke into public consciousness in the United States a quarter of a century ago, when a Louisiana priest pleaded guilty to thirty-three counts of crimes against children and was sentenced to prison. Since then, there have been thousands of such cases, civil and criminal, involving many thousands of children and leading to legal settlements that have amounted to more than two billion dollars and have driven several dioceses into bankruptcy. In 1992, Richard Sipe, a Catholic psychotherapist and researcher who served for eighteen years as a priest and Benedictine monk, told a conference of victims that “the current revelations of abuse are the tip of an iceberg, and if the problem is traced to its foundations the path will lead to the highest halls of the Vatican.”

America’s liberal system of tort law, along with the enterprising reporting of journalists at newspapers like the Boston Globe, brought the problem to light earlier here than elsewhere. But it can no longer be dismissed as an epiphenomenon of America’s sexual libertinism and religious indiscipline. In Ireland, for example, where Church-run orphanages and other institutions for children are supported by the state, a government commission reported last year that the Dublin Archdiocese’s preoccupations in dealing with cases of child sexual abuse, at least until the mid 1990s, were the maintenance of secrecy, the avoidance of scandal, the protection of the reputation of the Church, and the preservation of its assets. All other considerations, including the welfare of children and justice for victims, were subordinated to these priorities.

The past few years have seen a cascade of revelations from many countries, including, most recently, Germany, and in the past month the cascade has become a flood. Sipe’s prediction has come true. As Cardinal Archbishop of Munich, as Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, and now as Pope Benedict XVI, Joseph Ratzinger appears to have been at best neglectful, at worst complicit, in minimizing and covering up specific cases of abuse that came under his supervision.

The response of the ecclesiastical powers that be, once outright denial became untenable, has all along been an unsatisfactory mixture of contrition and irritation. From Benedict on down, Church fathers have made statements of apology and shame. Awareness programs have been launched, studies have been conducted, bishops have been obliged to resign. The Pope met personally with victims of abuse during his visit to the United States, in 2008, and even his critics agree that he has taken the problem more seriously, both before and since his elevation to the throne of St. Peter, than did his predecessor, the soon-to-be-sainted John Paul II.

On the other hand, that’s not setting the bar very high. When serious discipline has been imposed, it has generally been in the wake of bad publicity, usually from outside the Church and always from outside the hierarchy. There has been a lot of bad publicity of late, and some of the reaction has been tinged with resentful paranoia. In an editorial, L’Osservatore Romano, the official Vatican newspaper, accused “the media” of having the “rather obvious and ignoble intention of attacking Benedict XVI and his closest collaborators at all costs.” This was echoed, nearer home, by the Archbishop of New York, Timothy Dolan, who, in his blog (yes, he has one), accused the Times of “being part of a well-oiled campaign against Pope Benedict.” Back in Rome, on Palm Sunday, the Pope himself spoke darkly of “the petty gossip of dominant opinion.”

The Catholic Church is an authoritarian institution, modelled on the political structures of the Roman Empire and medieval Europe. It is better at transmitting instructions downward than at facilitating accountability upward. It is monolithic. It claims the unique legitimacy of a line of succession going back to the apostolic circle of Jesus Christ. Its leaders are protected by a nimbus of mystery, pomp, holiness, and, in the case of the Pope, infallibility—to be sure, only in certain doctrinal matters, not administrative ones, but the aura is not so selective. The hierarchy of such an institution naturally resists admitting to moral turpitude and sees squalid scandal as a mortal threat. Equally important, the government of the Church is entirely male.

It is not “anti-Catholic” to hypothesize that these things may have something to do with the Church’s extraordinary difficulty in coming to terms with clerical sexual abuse. The iniquities now roiling the Catholic Church are more shocking than the ones that so outraged Martin Luther. But the broader society in which the Church is embedded has grown incomparably freer. To the extent that the Church manages to purge itself of its shame—its sins, its crimes—it will owe a debt of gratitude to the lawyers, the journalists, and, above all, the victims and families who have had the courage to persevere, against formidable resistance, in holding it to account. Without their efforts, the suffering of tens of thousands of children would still be a secret. Our largely democratic, secularist, liberal, pluralist modern world, against which the Church has so often set its face, turns out to be its best teacher—and the savior, you might say, of its most vulnerable, most trusting communicants.

Apr 4, 2010

Global Voices Online » Morocco: Are Christians at Risk?

by Jillian York

In early March, observers watched as around 20 long-time Christian orphanage workers were expelled from the country they called home. The incident, and others which followed it, have brought to light the debate surrounding Christianity in the Kingdom.

While the official Moroccan line is that 98.7-99 per cent of the population is Muslim (the remainder being approximately 1% Christian and 0.2% Jewish), that statistic includes ethnic Europeans residing in Morocco. Proselytizing is illegal, as is conversion away from Islam. Still, foreign Christians are allowed to practice freely, and a number of churches, mostly from the era of French colonization, remain. In contrast, the country's tiny Jewish population is almost entirely native, and is also allowed free practice of their faith.

Despite guarantees of freedom, it would appear that the government is taking a stronger approach of late to proselytism, both real and perceived. The Moroccan Dispatches shares a recent incident in which an Egyptian Catholic priest was expelled from the country:

Evangelicals have operated for years in Morocco, with their main purpose being the conversion of Muslims. Catholics have operated for longer, but purposefully have not engaged in proselytizing. So it came as a surprise that a Catholic priest was also detained and then exported during last week's crackdown.

The blogger shares a message he received from the church in Casablanca:

On Sunday the 7th of March, five minutes before mass began; the police in the city of Larache entered our friary and arrested one of our confrères, Rami Zaki, a young Egyptian friar still in initial formation who was spending a year with us. He was ordered to go with the police, had no possibility to collect anything, and was given no explanation for his arrest…

…When Rami was put on the plane, his passport was taken from him and given to the pilot who later surrendered it with Rami to the police in Cairo. He was detained by the police in Cairo for another seven hours for interrogation before he was permitted to telephone his community of friars. From Sunday, the morning of his arrest, to Tuesday afternoon, when he was released – a total of more than 50 hours – Rami was deprived by the police in Morocco and Egypt of any of his human rights.

In another post, the blogger demonstrates that the public has joined in the crackdowns, citing a recent incident in which a cross was removed from its site of many years:

Where a cross once hung in Meknés

This is the place where a cross used to hang in Meknes' medina. The Catholics who teach Moroccans languages and career skills in this building do not engage in proselytism but have caught up in the anti-Christian sentiment following the recent expulsions of Christians. Last week, the cross was knocked down and beaten into pieces.
On a positive note, Moroccans who have benefited from their services have volunteered to reconstruct the cross.

In a more recent post, the same blogger assesses a TelQuel article on the situation, and says of it:

In the main article, it points out that most Moroccans convert to Christianity more as a result of Arabic media and not from foreign missionaries. This jives with my experience: a number of Moroccans I know have had long conversations with Christian missionaries about religion and none have converted. Some defended Islam while smoking hashish just to piss off the Christians, it that gives you an idea of how many Moroccans understand their Islamic identity. This observation about foreign missionaries, of course, undermines the rationale behind the recent expulsions of many foreigners.

To conclude, the blogger notes the recent media crackdowns and laments:

Other media critical of the government have been shut down recently. And the same could happen to Tel Quel. But as long as they are still around, there will be at least some debate and critical thinking about current events.